“Do you ever see the others?” Ivy couldn’t wait any longer for news of her brothers and mother. She’d tried to question Shay in the street but he’d avoided giving her any answers. She pointed towards her empty teacup and silently asked Ann Marie to serve her. Her hands were shaking too much to lift that heavy teapot.
Doug wanted to curse at finding himself in this position. He’d hoped to avoid telling Ivy how matters stood but that was unrealistic. She deserved to know. “Ivy, I telephoned our mother as soon as I found out about me da’s death. The lads live with her in London.” He could almost see her body flinch from that blow. “I left it up to her to tell them about da.”
“I’m glad she knows.” Ivy gratefully accepted the cup of tea Ann Marie placed into her shaking hands. She took several sips of tea, trying to control her reaction. She failed. She gently put the cup back on its saucer.
Then the other three people at the table watched as Ivy simply fell apart. She’d wanted news of her family. She’d never imagined how much it would hurt to hear that they had all been living together – without her.
“Ann Marie, would you oblige me by changing seats?” Doug stood abruptly. What did he care what these feckin’ strangers staring at them thought? He’d paid a small fortune to rent the suite here and this tea didn’t come cheap. Let them look. “My shoulders are a great deal broader than yours.”
“Allow me!” Johnjo jumped to his feet and quickly rearranged dishes and chairs. In minutes they were all once again seated around the table, ignoring the stares of the curious staff members and guests.
The maître d’ hurried over, followed by two waiters carrying a silk screen between them. They placed the screen around the area for maximum privacy.
“Thank you.” Doug bowed his blond head graciously. “I appreciate it. My sister has just been given disturbing news.” He offered that titbit of gossip as it would keep the staff busy passing it along to the curious.
Doug pulled his chair closer to Ivy’s. He knew his sister. He picked up the cup of tea and offered it to her. He put his long strong fingers to the base of the teacup she clutched between shaking hands and helped her carry it to her lips.
“Ivy,” he said, “we are not worth your tears.”
He took a pristine white handkerchief from his breast pocket and tried to dab at the tears rolling silently down her chalk-pale cheeks.
Ivy tried to bury her face in her teacup. “I’m makin’ a show of meself.” She lowered the empty cup, mortified.
“You most certainly are not,” Ann Marie snapped past the lump in her throat. How many knocks was this woman supposed to take without breaking?
“Tell her everything quickly.” Johnjo wished he could punch someone. “It will be easier on her to take it all in at once.”
“Have some more tea, Ivy.” Ann Marie refilled Ivy’s teacup.
“I’m not going to collapse, you know.” Ivy almost smiled. The other three were looking at her as if she were an unexploded bomb.
Doug was heartily ashamed of himself. His sister didn’t deserve the treatment he and his brothers had subjected her to.
They had always known where their mother went after she left home. They’d received letters and packages from her which a neighbour had passed on. The arrangements had been made before their mother left. The secrecy had been presented as a delightful bit of fun by their mother. Why had they never questioned it? They deserved to be horsewhipped for their treatment of a woman who’d done nothing but love and protect them. He dreaded telling Ivy of the luxury his two brothers and their mother lived in.
“I’m not being overly dramatic to say that our brothers and mother have sold their souls to the devil.” Doug heard his own words and wanted to groan. He meant every word, however.
“Could you put it any worse?” Johnjo snapped into the heavy silence that had fallen over the table.
“Violet was never a loving mother, Ivy,” Doug said slowly. “The only person beside herself she ever loved was our da. That’s a simple fact of life.” He paused, not sure how to go on. “She’s a hard cold woman and leaving Éamonn broke something inside her. I can’t explain it to you, Ivy, because I don’t understand it meself but she’s empty inside.”
Doug accepted a cup of coffee from Johnjo. He sipped slowly while looking at the elegant young beauty at his side. He wondered how much of his mother’s attitude was driven by the fear of someone outshining her.
“The lads?” Ivy croaked.
“Violet has the uppercrust belief that only a male child will suffice. In the eyes of her new ultra-snobbish society friends she has supplied an heir and a spare to the man she calls her husband. The lads seem willing enough to go along with the deception. As far as I can see the two of them are revelling in a life of total uselessness. I mean no offense to you and yours, Ann Marie.”
“None taken.” Ann Marie looked at the table spread with sandwiches, cakes and assorted goodies. It was all completely untouched. She intended to scandalise the staff by requesting they pack it up to be carried away. She knew people, Ivy being one of them, that could use this food. Doug would be billed for everything anyway. “I’m afraid I know people like those you describe.”
“Our Éamo has changed his name,” said Doug. “As soon as he arrived in London they enrolled him in a posh school as the eldest son of a returning Anglo-Irish family. He is now more English than the English. He has settled into the lifestyle of ‘Little Lord Fauntleroy’ with an ease that is embarrassing.”
“Well for him.” Ivy shrugged.
“No, Ivy, it’s not.” Doug said seriously. “Our brother is ruled with such a rigid hand by our mother’s consort it’s a wonder to me he doesn’t suffocate. He has been forced to change everything about himself – nothing he does is enough. There is too much of the old man in me. I wouldn’t accept the rules and regulations set down by an upper-class British chinless wonder. Our mother and brothers live in a fancy house with a very fancy London address. Violet’s been known as that man’s wife since the day she left us. I suppose they’ll be able to make it official now.”
He didn’t mention his own reaction to the man his mother lived with. He’d recognised the look in that man’s eyes on first meeting him. Doug and his brothers had always been ‘pretty boys’. His da made sure his sons knew what that could mean. Éamonn had taught his sons to use their fists. He’d encouraged them to walk away from a fight whenever possible. However, if you had to fight, as his son you’d better feckin’ win. Doug had been dodging men with seeking hands all of his life. He wasn’t about to move in and live with one. He’d taken to his heels.
“Ivy,” Doug caught the grimace on Johnjo’s face as he checked his watch, “I’ll have to leave soon. We can go into all of this another time. Give me that phone number you were boasting about.” He grinned when she looked like objecting. “You were, you know. Anyway, give me the phone number. I have gifts for you from the lads.” He didn’t mention he’d shamed his brothers and his mother into contributing them. “I’ll be in Dublin through Christmas and the New Year. We’ll meet up and discuss our lives past, present and future.”
“I’ll get our coats.” Johnjo stood and left the lounge without waiting for a response.
“I want to instruct the waiters to pack up this food.” Ann Marie too stood and left the lounge, obviously once again wanting to give brother and sister time to themselves.
“Ivy, I have to tell you.” Doug grabbed her hands, turning her to face him. He stared into her eyes, eyes so like his own. He hadn’t imagined telling Ivy his news in this hurried fashion. It couldn’t be helped. She deserved some time to think about the life-changing decision he was about to ask her to make. “When I’ve finished up here in Dublin I’m going to America.” He could feel the shock travel through her body. “I’ve been offered a chance at a life in the ‘fillums’. I don’t know if you’re aware, but they are going to start making talking pictures. The big boys out in America have been looking for people with �
��pleasing’ voices. Apparently I sound ‘just wonderful on record’, according to the talent scouts I’ve talked to anyway.”
“In the name of Divine Jesus!” Ivy prayed, staring at her brother. What could she say? Was he out of his mind? From the looks of things he had a great life as top of the bill here and now. Was he really going to take a chance on a wild-hare dream like ‘talking pictures’? Surely to God something like that would never catch on?
“I want you to come to America with me, Ivy.” Doug leaned over her to underline his seriousness. “I’ll be able to give you a much better life than the one you have now. Come away with me, Ivy. Somewhere no one will judge us by where we came from or who we come from. It will be a whole new life for you and me. I’d take care of you the way you always took care of me.”
“I can’t . . .”
“I’m not asking you to make a decision now,” Doug said. “I want you to think about it. Just think – California, sunshine and happiness. We’d be on the pig’s back, Ivy.”
“Me head’s spinning, Shay.” Ivy thought the room was spinning too.
Doug saw Johnjo enter the lounge. “I’ve got to go, Ivy. I want you to think long and hard about what I’ve said. It would be a new life for all of us, a fresh start. We’ll be in a strange world where no one knows anything about us. We can be anyone we want to be. A new life, Ivy, think about it. I want you to come with me, share the wealth.”
“You’ve given me so much to think about I have a headache. I’ll think about everything you’ve said. But before you go I want you to promise me you’ll telephone and let me know when we can meet up again. Promise!” Ivy squeezed her brother’s hands, staring into his eyes. She couldn’t let him leave her here without that promise. He’d walked out of her life without a backward glance once before.
“I promise.” Doug stood and accepted his coat from Johnjo while admiring the way Ann Marie commanded the hotel staff to pack up the food on the nearby occasional table. She did it in a charming manner but none the less the staff hopped to obey.
“We won’t lose touch again, Ivy,” Doug bent and pressed a kiss into his sister’s lily-white cheek. “I promise, no matter where I am or what I’m doing. We will always be brother and sister.” Doug felt a lump in his throat at the thought of the pain he’d caused to a woman who’d been nothing but loving and caring towards him. He was heartily ashamed of himself.
Chapter 34
“Jem!” Ivy felt as she imagined a homing pigeon must feel as she made directly for the livery. Ann Marie had insisted they take a horse-drawn taxi from the Shelbourne. She had stacked the boxes of food the waiters packed for her onto one seat of the carriage and almost hauled a still stunned Ivy home with her. They’d taken the foodstuff in to Sadie. Ann Marie wanted Ivy to stay with her but she couldn’t. She’d needed to get away. She’d left the food parcels with Ann Marie. She was going to use the fancy foodstuff to show Sadie how to present a high tea. She might as well – they’d never touched it.
She stood in the middle of the livery and shouted. “Jem!”
“He’s upstairs in his own place.” John Lawless put his head out of the office to shout. “He said he was sick of the sight and sound of us lot so he took himself off for five minutes of peace.” He grinned. “He must have known you were coming, Ivy. He said he was going to put the kettle on.”
“Thanks, John.” Ivy crossed to the wooden ladder and climbed the rungs swiftly, thanking the fates that Jem would be alone.
“Jem Ryan!” she called when she was halfway up the ladder. “Fancy a bit of company?”
“If it’s only you, Ivy.” Jem appeared in the open door of his home. “You’re welcome but if any of those hairy lads are with you I’m kicking that ladder away.” He was only half joking. The antics of the lads today had almost driven him demented. There was so much to be done clearing and preparing the new entrance to the livery.
“There’s a rumour going around The Lane . . . that you have the kettle on.” Ivy continued to climb the ladder. She accepted the hand Jem held out to help her over the rim of the loft.
“Did you get your business done at the bank?” Jem asked.
Ivy went blank for a minute. It seemed such a long time ago that she’d left the bank with Ann Marie, weeks instead of hours. So much had happened.
“What’s wrong?” Now that she was standing closer Jem noticed the look on her face.
“Let’s go inside.” Ivy didn’t answer, she couldn’t, not yet.
“What’s wrong, Ivy?” Jem closed the door at their back and simply stood waiting to see what she would do or say.
Ivy looked around the room with dazed eyes. Jem had only one soft chair in his room. That was all right – they only needed one. She pulled the hat from her head, took off her suit jacket and turned to look at Jem still standing staring at her as if waiting for her to collapse. She must look as bad as she felt.
“Jem . . .” She held out her hand to him.
He walked slowly over to take it. He was shocked by the chill of her skin. She pushed him towards the soft fireside chair and he allowed himself to fall into it. She dropped down onto his knees and simply folded her body into his.
“Ivy?” He ran his hand up and down her back, wondering what on earth had brought his Ivy to this state. He didn’t think it could have anything to do with the business of the Cinderella dolls that she’d been fretting about. She’d been full of plans about those before she’d left to meet Ann Marie.
“I saw our Shay.” Ivy finally let the tears that had been tearing her apart inside free. She shook with the force of the sorrow and shocks she’d sustained.
Jem didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to ask who Shay was – he knew. He didn’t try to stop her tears. God knows if anyone deserved a good cry it was the woman shivering in his arms. He was content just to sit there holding her.
“I’m getting you all over wet and making a fool of meself,” Ivy muttered at last through her blocked-up nose. She hid her head in his neck, not willing to let him see the mess she must have made of herself.
“I’ve been sitting here so long I’m spittin’ feathers,” Jem quipped. “I’m gummin’ for a cup of tea.”
“Oh, you!” Ivy gave him a gentle punch.
“Can you tell me about it?” He pushed her away from him slightly while he fought to remove a clean handkerchief from his trouser pocket. He pressed the linen into her hand and grinned when she blew her nose with gusto. She moved around on his lap, obviously trying to get more comfortable, but bringing a sheen of sweat to his brow.
“I saw our Shay.”
“You said . . .”
“He’s a big noise now, my little brother,” Ivy whispered. “Headliner at the Gaiety no less. Prince blinkin’ Charming, if you wouldn’t be minding. Off to America to make his fortune in the fillums.”
“Ivy,” he pushed her away from his chest to stare down into her face, “what in the name of God are you talking about?”
“Shay.” She shrugged. “Only he’s not my Shay any more – he’s the big noise Doug Joyce, your man everyone has been talking about for ages. You remember Conn told us all about yer man, the one who has been packing the audiences in for weeks now. He’s been in all the papers, Jem. I’ve been so busy I haven’t been reading the papers from cover to cover but still, you’d think I’d have caught on before this. I felt like an eejit.”
“Doug Joyce is your brother Shay, the middle lad?” Jem was beginning to understand. “I read the papers myself, Ivy. I never noticed it was him either. I suppose it’s because it would never occur to us.” He shrugged. Who would have thought that a star of the stage was one of Ivy’s brothers?
“He took me to tea at the Shelbourne Hotel no less.” Ivy twisted the soaked handkerchief in her hands.
“Did he?” Jem tried to lighten the mood. “So you finally got to take tea with the toffs.”
“He’s going to America, Jem.” Ivy couldn’t joke. “Going to make his fortune in the fillums ou
t there. The talkies, he called them – have you heard about that?”
“I’ve read something about them in the papers.” Jem, always fascinated by the changes in the world around them, had been intrigued to read about talking pictures and couldn’t wait to see one.
“He wants me to go to America with him.” Ivy stared into Jem’s eyes as she said this. She saw the shock register, felt his body stiffen against her. “He wants me to become a lady of leisure, let him look after me.”
“What did you say to that?” Jem felt his heart break. Nothing he had to offer her could compare to a life in the sun with film stars.
“I didn’t say anything. We had no time – he had to get ready to go on stage this evening.”
Jem simply waited. There was nothing he could say. He would not be the one to stand in her way if she wanted to accept this chance of a lifetime.
“It breaks my heart that he’s going so far away,” Ivy offered, “and I think he’s going to be left penniless. Talking pictures, I ask your sacred pardon, what will they think of next?” She couldn’t bear the look of silent suffering on his face. She’d made her mind up already. It hadn’t been a hard decision to make. “I’m not going anywhere, Jem Ryan. I have too much to do right here.” She slapped her hand on his chest. “Someone has to be around to keep you in line.”
“I’m glad,” he understated, pulling her back against his chest while the relief that went through him made him weak. He’d almost lost her.
Ha'Penny Chance (Ivy Rose Series Book 2) Page 29