It was nearly half an hour later when they all sat down to dinner, for Lizzie had had to go for Mike at least three times, and when he eventually entered the kitchen he looked towards Mrs McMullen and his voice was airy and his glance held nothing out of the ordinary when he said, ‘Hallo there.’
Mrs McMullen did not return the greeting, not verbally at any rate, but inclined her head stiffly towards him.
The first part of the meal was passed over in deceptive friendliness. Mrs McMullen addressed her remarks to Michael. Mrs McMullen liked her grandson, and at one time he had liked her, but not so much now, and his answers to her questions about his school career were of such a nature as to have little personal touch in them at all. So the conversation was kept moving mainly between Michael and his grandmother.
It was at the point when Lizzie was asking ‘Does anyone want any more meat?’ that Mrs McMullen brought up the subject of horses. It was as if the roast sirloin had in some way reminded her of horses, for she said, ‘I suppose you know you’ve got riding stables opened up not far away?’
‘Oh yes.’ Lizzie nodded at her mother. ‘They’ve been going about three months now. It’s a young fellow that’s running them. I hear he’s doing well.’
‘Yes, he is.’ Mrs McMullen had attacked her fresh supply of sirloin and she kept her eyes directed towards her plate as she made the remark, and it brought the eyes of the others on her as she knew it would.
‘Do you know him?’ Lizzie’s fork was poised halfway to her mouth.
‘Yes, yes, I know him. He’s young Eddie Travers, Mrs Flannagan’s youngest brother.’
‘Oh no.’ Lizzie’s voice sounded most dismal at this news and Mary Ann, looking at her mother, wondered why she should be so affected by it. She herself was always in some way affected by the name of Flannagan, especially if it had Sarah before it, but why her mother should sound like that she didn’t know. That was, not until her da’s head went back and he made huh-ing sounds before dropping his head forward again and looking directly at her, saying, ‘Well, that’s exploded your birthday surprise.’
‘Oh, Mike, be quiet!’
‘What’s the use? Can you see her going taking riding lessons there alongside Miss Sarah Flannagan? They fought in the gutter afore, and there’s no reason to think they’ll stop if they’re on horses. We don’t want any horse combats and one or the other breaking their necks.’
Mary Ann was looking at Lizzie now and her eyes were full of disappointment. This then had been the big surprise for her birthday that her mother had hinted at, to take riding lessons. And now it was all nipped in the bud because the man was Sarah Flannagan’s uncle. Yet it wasn’t against Sarah Flannagan she felt embittered at this moment, but against her granny. If her granny hadn’t said anything she would likely have gone to the stables and started, and once having started she would have kept on. But now with the knowledge that she was almost sure to run into Sarah, who might already be a horsewoman of some repute—she had a mental vision of Sarah mounted on a large bay, leaping over all the farm gates—she couldn’t run that risk. Oh! Her granny! Her teeth went straight through the crusty top of a baked potato…her granny!
But her granny had only just begun, she did not show the real reason for her visit until they reached the apple pie and custard. Then her remark-cum-question brought Mary Ann’s head up so swiftly that she winced at the pain of her neck as her granny said, apropos of nothing that had gone before, ‘Have you heard the latest about Bob Quinton?’
‘Bob?’ Lizzie looked full at her mother. ‘No, what is it? Has he retired out of the fortune he’s made from building?’
‘No, it’s nothing to do with building. But he’s retired all right…from his wife.’ Mrs McMullen’s round eyes rested now on her daughter and she added, ‘It shouldn’t surprise you; it didn’t me. I’ve been waitin’ for it practically since the day he married.’
‘Yes, I can understand that.’ Mike’s words were slow and definite and brought his mother-in-law’s gaze not onto him but directed towards her plate again.
‘I don’t believe it. Where did you hear that?’ There was a worried note in Lizzie’s voice. ‘It’s just gossip. People will say anything, especially when a couple are happy.’
‘What makes you think they were happy?’ Mrs McMullen’s small eyes seemed to spring open and upwards towards her daughter. ‘They never struck me like that. As for any truth in it, it’s true all right because he told me himself.’
‘But why?’ Lizzie’s hands were resting on the table now.
‘Because she’s a piece, that’s why. He could never be happy with a woman like that. Her, a painted—’
‘She’s not! She’s a nice woman, she’s beautiful.’
‘Mary Ann! Stop that!’ Although Lizzie’s tone was sharp there was also bewilderment expressed in it. And her bewilderment grew as she looked at Mike as he said, ‘Leave her alone, Liz.’ Mike’s voice was low and even. ‘She’s only speaking the truth. It’s as she says. Connie Quinton’s a nice woman, a beautiful woman, and personally I would say that’s an understatement.’
‘What do you know about her?’ Mrs McMullen’s tone was scathing, but Mike answered her with irritating calmness. There was even a touch of laughter in his voice as he replied, ‘Well, dear Mother-in-law, more than you think. For your information we had coffee together yesterday morning.’
‘Ha ha ha!’ The ha-ha’s were merely an imitation of mirth and Mrs McMullen followed them up with, ‘That’s the laugh of the week, that is. You havin’ coffee with Connie Quinton. My, my! That’ll be the day.’
‘He did then. We both had coffee with her and me da and her talked a long time. And she liked him, and she’s going to call…see!’
‘There now, what d’you make of that, eh?’ Mike had risen to his feet and had pushed his chair back and was standing looking down at Mrs McMullen, with a superior smile twisting his lips. ‘That’s something for you to set the town on fire with, eh? Connie Quinton likes me. Me, Mike Shaughnessy. And she’s going to call. Now what d’you make of that, eh? You’d better get on your hat and coat as quick as you can and tell Bob that bit. Go on now. But before you go don’t forget to tell Liz’—he lifted his eyes to his wife’s amazed face—‘don’t forget to tell Liz that you knew this was going to happen and that I’d go off with another woman; in fact you’ve known I’ve been carrying on for years, in fact that’s why Bob and her split up.’
‘I’ll not stay in this house and be insulted.’
‘No, I wouldn’t. And if you hurry you’ll just catch the bus at the corner. And, anyway, you’ll be quite happy to go, won’t you, for you’ve said all you came to say. Only it didn’t have the reaction you hoped for, did it? Ah, well, knowing you, you’ll think up something else before very long.’ Mike turned from the infuriated glance of his mother-in-law, to turn back leisurely again, adding, ‘Oh, and when you’re talking to Bob, tell him it’s Durrant’s we go to.’
Without even casting a glance in Lizzie’s direction, Mike now walked out of the kitchen and through the scullery, and they all listened as the back door closed, not with a bang, but just in the ordinary way.
The kitchen was left in a deep, numbing silence. Mary Ann’s mind was as full of bewilderment as her mother’s face. Her da had called Mrs Quinton Connie. He had only known her name was Connie because Beatrice had said Auntie Connie, but he had spoken as if he had known her for a long time and had been to Durrant’s with her every Saturday. What was the matter with her da? As for her granny…She looked towards the disciple of the devil, who, the picture of offended dignity now, was getting into her coat. Oh, if only something would happen to her granny, something swift, sure and final.
When a few minutes later Mrs McMullen, putting the finishing touches to the lapels of her coat and adjusting her hat on a dead straight level, addressed her daughter saying. ‘Well, Liz, it’ll be a long time afore I darken your door again, you mark my words on that,’ Lizzie, standing on the hearthrug, look
ed at her mother, and all she said was, ‘Goodbye, Mother.’
‘Goodbye.’
Mrs McMullen took three steps across the room towards the door, then turned and asked, ‘Aren’t you comin’ to the bus with me?’
‘No, Mother, I’m not.’
‘Well, now I know where I stand. That’s a daughter for you. You can work and slave for years, and what do you get?…“No, Mother, I’m not…” What about you, Michael?’
Michael glared at his granny but his voice was quiet as he said, ‘I’m sorry, but I’m going out with Tony in the car at two o’clock and it’s nearly that now.’
‘That’s a family for you. My God! What is the world coming to? Well, it’s as I said—’ She swung round to her daughter and, emphasising her words now with a wag of her finger, she cried, ‘It’ll be a long time afore you’ll see me again.’
She was gone. Lizzie sat down in the chair by the fire but she didn’t speak. The table was littered with dishes, but she made no attempt to clear them away, which in itself was unusual, for immediately a meal was finished everything on the table was taken into the scullery.
Mary Ann watched Michael go and stand near her mother and put a tentative hand on her shoulder, saying, ‘Don’t worry, Mother. Anyway, she won’t come back for some time now; you’ve got that to be thankful for. Come on…’ He gave her shoulder a little shake, then added, ‘I’ll dry up for you before I go.’
There were times when Mary Ann liked their Michael, when she liked him very much. She was going to say, ‘You go and I’ll dry up’, even knowing that it had come as anything but a pleasant surprise when he had said he was going out with Tony…and in the car. But Lizzie, getting to her feet now, said, ‘I’m all right. Get yourself away and don’t be late.’
Five minutes later there was only Mary Ann and Lizzie left in the kitchen and the dishes were still on the table, and Lizzie was touching something on the mantelpiece when she said in an offhand kind of way, ‘You did have coffee with Mrs Quinton yesterday morning, then?’
‘Yes, Ma.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me before?’
‘Well, Ma…’ Mary Ann paused. ‘I meant to when I came in, but then…then that other thing happened, and this morning my neck was paining and I forgot.’
‘Yes, yes, I can see that.’ Lizzie started to move the dishes now and Mary Ann watched her face. It had an odd look on it, a look that she had never seen on her mother’s face before, not even when she was worried over her da taking a drop.
The true nature of the look on Lizzie’s face was not made clear to Mary Ann until that same night when she was in bed and her ma and da were downstairs together waiting for Michael coming in.
She had strained her ears to the low drone of their voices for the past half-hour but had not been able to make anything out, until her mother’s voice, rising suddenly, seemed to force its way up through the floorboards below the bed. It brought her into an upright position.
‘Well, you could have mentioned it when we got to bed. Or even this morning.’
The words came muffled, and Mary Ann had to bend floorwards to hear them. But there was no need to strain to hear her da’s swift reply. ‘All right, all right, I’m holding something back. I wasn’t just turning the tables on your mother. Have it your own way. I’m starting an affair with her. And why not? Why not indeed?’ His voice was higher now. ‘I went through hell for years through you and Bob. And now they’re splitting up why shouldn’t I chance my arm? And don’t be like your mother and say I’ll be steppin’ out of me class, because that doesn’t hold in this day and age. And, what’s more, the lass is lonely and I wouldn’t have to work very hard to get her to accept some comfort. Now, there you’ve asked for it and you’ve got it. Are you satisfied now?’
There followed an awe-filled silence when no words came up through the floor, and Mary Ann, with her face cupped in her hands, stared down towards it, waiting. Her body was once more filled with fear and anxiety and she kept saying to herself, ‘Oh, Da! Oh, Da!’ She knew that her da was being cruel and in a way he was making things up about Mrs Quinton, and yet there seemed some semblance of truth in what he said. This was brought to her by the picture of her da and Mrs Quinton sitting looking at each other across the cafe table…But her da loved her ma; she knew he loved her ma. Then how could he say such awful things? How could he hurt her ma by suggesting that he would go off with Mrs Quinton? The whole situation had turned topsy-turvy. It was Mr Quinton she had been afraid of coming after her ma again.
Thoughts of Mr Quinton and her ma led her back to what she had overheard while standing in the brush cupboard last Saturday afternoon, and there seemed a similarity between what Mrs Quinton had said about the row she had had with her husband and her da and ma going at it in the kitchen now. Or was it what Mrs Willoughby had said? Mrs Willoughby had said, ‘I know you, Connie; you keep on and on.’ And that’s what her ma had been doing, keeping on and on.
And when she heard the back door bang Mary Ann knew that her da was doing what Mr Quinton had done, walking out. But her da would go no farther than the farm. Or would he go walking round thinking of Mrs Quinton and then…
She was out of bed and down the stairs within a matter of seconds.
Lizzie was sitting at the kitchen table, her face buried in the crook of her elbow, and though she made no sound Mary Ann knew that she was crying bitterly.
‘Ma. Oh, Ma!’
Lizzie’s head came up with a start, but she did not look at her daughter; she kept her face turned away as she said, ‘Now what do you want? You should be in bed.’
‘Ma, Mrs Quinton doesn’t want…’
Lizzie was on her feet glowering now. ‘Get back to bed. You’ll keep your ears open once too often, milady. Go on upstairs this minute with you. And don’t let me hear you mention Mrs Quinton’s name in this house again. Do you hear?’
Mary Ann, her head drooped, turned away and walked slowly upstairs. She had been going to tell her ma that Mrs Quinton didn’t want her da, she only wanted Mr Quinton. She had been going to tell her what she had heard from the brush cupboard, but Lizzie’s manner had indicated to her plainly that she had taken a dislike to Mrs Quinton and that being so it was not likely that she would believe anything nice about her.
As Mary Ann stood at her bedroom window and looked out onto the dark shape of the farmyard, screwing up her eyes in the hope of catching a glimpse of her da, she knew that the three years of peace had suddenly slid out of life as if they had never been, and the old pattern had returned. It only wanted her da to go and get…she halted her mind on the thought. She would not even think that it only wanted Mike to go and get drunk for life to be as it was.
Her eyes lifted from the yard to the sky and in a vague way she realised she was changing, and the realisation was forced upon her by the clarity with which she was seeing the position between her parents and the Quintons. And she was saddened by the knowledge that the more people loved, the more intensely could they hurt and be hurt, and as she turned from the window and groped her way to the bed she wished with a deep solemn wish that she need never grow up.
Chapter Six: Mr Lord Looks Ahead
On the following morning Mary Ann came downstairs feeling like nothing on earth. When she was in bed her ma had asked her how she felt and she had said, ‘All right’, but now she was up her neck was paining her and, what was most unusual, she didn’t want to go to school.
On entering the kitchen she was going to tell her mother this when she was stopped by the sight of Tony. He was already dressed for the office, and he was talking to her da and did not pause to look at her when she entered the room but went on saying, ‘And the latest is, I’ve got to promise I won’t marry for five years…or else. I have no intention of marrying yet awhile, but to make such a promise is another thing.’
‘Oh, it’s all on account of this Lorna business. I wouldn’t lay too much stock on what he says at the moment.’
Mary Ann noticed that thi
s morning her da did not sound as interested as usual in Tony’s problems, from which she gathered that her ma and him hadn’t made it up. But her ma’s voice was kind, even gentle, when, looking at her, she asked, ‘Is your neck paining you now?’
‘Yes, Ma, it’s very sore.’
‘Well, you’d better not go to school this morning.’
‘All right, Ma.’
Tony caught her attention again but not very strongly as he said to Mike, ‘And when I said to him, “And I suppose you’ll want to pick who I’m to marry?” he said quite flatly, “Yes, you can rest assured that’ll be more than likely”.’ She found she couldn’t work up the interest the situation between Tony and Mr Lord warranted. The pain in her neck was making her feel a bit sick and there was the business of her ma and da.
Lizzie bent over Mary Ann now, saying, ‘Aren’t you going to eat your cereal?’
‘No, Ma. I don’t want anything.’
On this Mike spoke to Lizzie without looking at her. ‘You’d better get her to the doctor’s,’ he said.
‘Yes, that would be a wise move at this point.’ On Tony’s words Mike looked at him inquiringly but did not speak, and Tony, taking his glance from Mike for a moment, said, ‘That’s really why I popped in, to warn you. They’re going to take the matter to court.’
‘What!’ The exclamation came from Lizzie.
‘Yes,’ said Tony. ‘They are going to make it assault and loss of work for both of them.’ His voice was very low as he gave this information, and Lizzie, perhaps for the first time that morning, looked at her husband. Mike did not return the look, but his head went up and he said, ‘Let them. Let them do their damnedest. I’ve got a case to put an’ all.’ Then his chin coming in, he turned his head sharply to Tony and demanded, ‘You still seeing that one?’
‘No, I’m not, Mike.’ Tony spoke definitely. ‘She made it her business last night to waylay me and she gave me this information, hoping, I think, that I’d try to persuade her father not to take any measures against you. But you know what that would mean, don’t you, and I thought you’d rather have things as they stand now.’
Love and Mary Ann Page 8