In the darkness of his mind, an idea was growing; an idea which, in the fullness of time, would come to fruition and shape their destiny.
During the evening, Lucy would return to the farmhouse every so often; an old dear from the village was there, keeping an eye on little Jamie. “He’s the same as he was when you came in half an hour since.” A widower these many years, old Meg now filled her life with looking after other people’s children. “He’s sleeping,” she told Lucy with a toothless grin. “You go and enjoy the party, dear, and leave me to my knitting. Your little lad is safe enough with me.”
After going upstairs to check Jamie, Lucy gave the old woman a grateful kiss and returned to the party.
Outside in the shadows, Frank Trent emerged from his hiding-place and crept stealthily toward the barn. Placing himself where he would not be seen, he peered in through the window.
He saw Barney’s son, Ronnie, hand-in-hand with Lucy as he led her onto the floor. The two of them danced wildly to the rhythmic sound of the accordion, Ronnie playing the fool and Lucy laughing at his antics while he flirted outrageously with her.
When the music stopped and Lucy was making her way back to the table with Ronnie, his brother Tom came on the scene and grabbing Lucy, he led her back onto the dance-floor. The music changed to a slower tempo, and soon she was in his arms and moving effortlessly round in his arms, chatting and smiling, and seeming at peace with herself.
Frank saw all this and the rage inside him knew no bounds. Thrusting his fists against the window it seemed for one moment that he might smash it from its frame. Then the music stopped and everyone was clapping, and when in that moment a woman turned toward him, he ducked down and disappeared into the shadows again.
“What d’you think you’re doing?” Ronnie demanded light-heartedly of his brother. “Stealing my woman from under my very nose?”
“I rescued her,” Thomas answered, stuffing a piece of pork pie into his mouth. “I could see she was fed up dancing with a four-footed idiot, so I thought I’d show her what a real partner could do.”
Lucy giggled. “Stop it, you two,” she said. “I’m having a wonderful evening. You’re both good dancers and you know it!”
“Ah, you’re just saying that.” Ronnie searched the table for another chunk of fruit-cake. “I bet you’re really in agony from the number of times he’s trodden on your toes.”
At half past midnight the evening came to an end.
As they left, everyone said what a wonderful time they’d had, and how good the food was, and how they would be so sorry to see the Davidson family leaving.
Standing side-by-side at the door as they saw everyone out, Barney and Joanne thanked them all in turn.
“I’ll see youse out and about before you sail away, so I will!” Having downed more booze than she was capable of holding, Bridget was four sheets to the wind. “Oops!” Laughing raucously, she hobbled out to the waiting car, clutching hold of her companion, her jacket stained with wine and her hitherto beautifully coiffured hair looking as if it had been through a wind-tunnel.
Behind her, Barney and Joanne walked arm-in-arm back to the house with Lucy and Susie, who had danced with her friends until her feet ached.
“Leave all that till the morrow,” Barney told his sons, who had a mind to start clearing away the furniture. As it was, he left them sitting on the barn floor, finishing off their drink and deep in conversation. “D’you think they’re worried about going to America?” Barney asked Joanne.
“Not a bit of it!” she declared. “They’re very excited, like the rest of us. In fact, Thomas said he would be brokenhearted if Leonard Maitland suddenly changed his mind and said we couldn’t go after all.”
Her words did not help Barney. Instead he felt as though his own heart might break, because very soon he would have no choice but to confess the truth of his illness. And the more he thought of it, the more he dreaded the day.
Inside the house, they found old Meg fast asleep in her chair, with the knitting on her lap and snoring like a good ’un. Barney chuckled. “We’ll have to wake her,” he said. “The old dear needs her bed.”
Joanne gently shook her, and when she woke it was with a start that frightened them all and sent her knitting clattering to the floor. “What’s up? What d’you want?” With big eyes she stared at them. “Oh, it’s you.” Her mouth opened in a toothless grin. “I thought for a minute it was me old man come back to haunt me.”
“Come on, my old darling, it’s time you were tucked up in bed.” Barney helped her out of the chair, Joanne went to fetch her hat and coat and Lucy paid her for the night.
Ronnie came rushing in. “Your son’s here,” he told her, and her old face lit from ear to ear. “He’s a good lad,” she said. “He does look after his old mammy.”
No sooner had she been helped into the car than she was fast asleep. “Salt of the earth,” her son told Barney with a proud smile. “Never stops … allus on the go. She’s in her seventies now, but I reckon I’ll be worn out long afore she is.”
After Meg had gone, Jamie woke up and started crying. Lucy ran upstairs and came down with him in her arms. “Oh dear, he’s wet the bed. I am sorry. I’ve put the sheets in the pail to soak and I’ll rinse them through tomorrow. The mattress is still dry—thanks to your old rubber sheet. Look—I think we’d best go home.”
“If you want to stay I’m sure we’ll find something suitable to wrap his little bottom in,” Joanne said. “And there’s plenty o’ clean sheets—you know where they are.”
Lucy thanked her but thought it might be best if she took Jamie home and saw to him there. “It’s been a very long couple of days and he’ll rest easier tucked up in his own cot.”
“We’ll see you tomorrow then,” Joanne told her, while Barney went to fetch his big coat.
Ten minutes later, wrapped against the cold night air, she and Barney set off with the child, who by now had nodded off again. “I don’t know how to thank you,” Lucy told Barney.
“Thank me? What for?” He hoisted Jamie higher in his arms.
“For giving Jamie the party.”
“It was a pleasure,” Barney answered. “And don’t forget, it was also to mark our going to America.”
Something in his tone caused Lucy to ask, “And is that what you really want, Barney, to go to America?”
The man chose his words carefully, not least because Lucy had already voiced her concern about his health. “O’ course I want to go! Why wouldn’t I?”
Lucy gave him a sideways glance; in the moonlight he looked incredibly pale, and there was a quietness about him that wasn’t natural. Twice during the evening she had seen a kind of sorrow in his face that worried her.
“What’s wrong with you, Barney?” she asked quietly. “And don’t fob me off with untruths. I’ve come to know you fairly well, and I’ve a feeling there’s something up. What is it? You can trust me—you know that, don’t you.”
Barney didn’t answer, nor did he look at her. Instead he kicked irritably at the roadway. “It’s high time somebody did summat about these damned ruts in the lane,” he grumbled. “Last week, old Ted Foggarty’s horse caught its fetlock in one and had to be put down!”
Lucy persisted. “Talk to me, Barney.”
“I am talking.” He gave her a cursory glance.
“I haven’t said anything to Joanne and I won’t, but I know there’s something wrong,” Lucy repeated. “Bridget told me she saw you going into the doctor’s surgery some time back.”
Turning to look at her, he said, “I won’t hear any more of this nonsense, Lucy. Yes, I won’t deny I went to see the doctor, but only because I was feeling run down. I’ve been under the weather recently and I thought it might be a good idea to go and get some tonic.”
“And did he prescribe some?” Lucy was slightly relieved but still left with the feeling that he was not telling all.
“He did, and I’ve been taking it religiously.”
“And
is it working?”
Barney was feeling trapped. “Well, you’ve not seen me being other than fine, have you?”
Lucy shook her head. “No.” Enough was enough. Barney was getting grouchy. “But I’m not always looking in your direction, am I?”
Barney laughed it off. “I should hope not!”
When they reached Lucy’s cottage, he helped her inside with her bat and the child. A few minutes later, he and Lucy emerged from the front door. “Good night, Lucy girl,” Barney said, and yawned long and hard. As always, he kissed her on the cheek. “See you the morrow.”
“Good night, Barney.” She waved him off down the lane, and afterwards went back inside, her face still burning from the touch of his lips. It was a sad thing, she thought, to love a man who belonged to your best friend. But love him she did, and try as she might, she could not change that.
Neither Barney nor Lucy had seen Frank Trent hiding in the shadows, watching and waiting. When Lucy was kissed good night, he was shaken by the look of love on her face as she waved Barney off. And his heart was black with jealousy.
Having had a run of bad luck of late, he had heard through the grapevine how Lucy had been given a cottage to live in and regular work. With no sailings available and with nowhere to live, Trent had thought to foist himself onto Lucy by persuading her that he loved her and the child. Once he’d got his feet under the table, he’d plan his next move, while Lucy worked to bring in the wages and he worked to spend them.
The thing that shocked him now was that, having come back with purely selfish motives, he had seen Lucy in other men’s arms and realized he still had deep feeling for her. She belonged to him, by God. He’d taken her virginity, and by rights she was his, and the mother of his son—not that he could even remember the brat’s name.
Inside the cottage, Lucy quickly washed the child with a drop of warm water, talking to him as she did so. “This is our home, Jamie. It might be small and cramped, but now that Barney’s mended the roof and fitted new doors, and me and Joanne have polished the entire place till it shines, it might not be the poshest place in the world, but it’s cozy enough for me and you.” In fact she loved its every nook and cranny.
“It was a good party,” she said, slipping on his pajamas. “Barney and Joanne gave it just for you.” She recalled what Barney had said. “And it was to say goodbye to their friends as well, because soon they will be off to a new life across the water.”
Pushing the heartache to the back of her mind, she told the child, “You’re christened now, sweetheart.” She kissed his sleepy face. “It’s wonderful, isn’t it? You have your name written down in the book for everyone to see.”
When she tickled him he chuckled and squealed, and she took him in her arms, hugging him as if she would never let him go. “You’re Mammy’s big boy,” she said. “We’ll soon be losing the best friends we’ve ever had, so we’ll need to look after each other, you and me, eh?”
“Not when I’m around to take care of you.”
“FRANK!” Even before she turned, Lucy knew the voice, she knew the man, and could hardly believe he was standing right here in her house.
“You should always lock your door at night.” His slow, dangerous smile enveloped her. “You never know who’s lurking about.”
“What do you want?” Instinctively, she held the child closer. When he took a step nearer, Lucy stepped back.
“I want you, Lucy.”
She had been afraid, but now she was over the first shock, she was angry. “You didn’t want me when you ran off, leaving me unconscious, like the coward you are!”
Cunning as a fox, he momentarily bowed his head as though with shame. “That’s why I’m back,” he lied, his eyes sad with regret. “I did behave like a coward, and I want to make it up to you.”
“I don’t believe you!” Standing tall and defiant, Lucy looked him in the eye. “I’ve made a life for myself, Frank, and I’m happier than I’ve been in years. There is no place here for you now.”
“Please, Lucy, don’t say that,” he whined. “It took a lot of courage for me to come here after what I did.” He glanced around the room, thinking it warm and cozy; a far cry from the dives where he’d been holed up of late. “We could have a good life together,” he went on. “You’ve already got work up at the farmhouse, and I’ll find a job, I promise. We’ve got to give it a go.”
When he saw her expression he grabbed her roughly by the arm. “Aw, look, Lucy. We were always good together, you know that!”
“You used me!” Shaking him off, she told him in a quiet, trembling voice, “You lied to me all along, and when I needed you more than ever, you ran off.” She stared at him, wondering what she had ever seen in him. “We don’t need you, Frank. We don’t want you here. Please go. Leave us alone.”
He was desperate now. “I love you, Lucy, it’s why I keep coming back. I’ve always loved you. I didn’t realize it until now.” Darting forward, he grabbed her by the arm. “I had you, and I threw you away,” he said angrily. “But I’ve got you back now and I don’t intend to let you go.” Cupping her face in the palms of his hands, he whispered earnestly, “I know I did wrong, but I do love you, Lucy. You’ve got to believe me.” And he did love her, as much as a man like him could ever love anyone.
“Get off me!” Lucy’s instincts told her that at long last he might be telling the truth, but it was too late. Frank Trent no longer meant anything to her. Thankfully she was over him now, and could see him for the selfish, vicious man he had always been. “I don’t want you here, now get out!” She put Jamie down and tried to distract him with a toy while she hissed, “Go on! Get out of my house!”
Realizing she meant every word, Frank shook his head and smiled. “I’m not going anywhere,” he said softly. “Not without you.”
Afraid now, Lucy had to think hard. She had to be rid of him, but how? Suddenly an idea came to her. “For a long time I hoped and prayed you might come back,” she lied, “but you didn’t. So I had to make a life for me and little Jamie, and now I’m going away to America. We’re leaving soon, Frank—it’s all arranged.” She added as an afterthought to appease him, “I’ll write to you. Give me an address, and I promise I’ll write as soon as we get there.”
Visibly shocked, he took a step back. “America!” Looking into her eyes he gave her a shaky smile. “I don’t believe you.”
“It’s true.” She was desperate to make him believe. “Why would I lie? If you were hanging about outside, you must have seen Barney Davidson bring me home. There’s been a big party up at Overhill Farm to say goodbye to all the friends and neighbors. Mr. Maitland has sold up here, and we’re all going with him to help run his farm in Boston, Massachusetts. If you don’t believe me, ask anyone. It’s common knowledge round here!”
“You little bitch!” Without warning he tore the child from her, and over the sound of his terrified cries, he said calmly: “You’re not going anywhere, with Mr. Maitland or anyone else. You’re coming with me. We’re getting right away from here. I’ll find us lodgings in London. Somehow we’ll manage. We’ll be all right together, you and me … and him.” Though he had acknowledged his love for Lucy, he had little feeling for the child; so far he had not spoken to Jamie, or even looked at him.
“No, Frank! There was a time when I would have walked to the ends of the earth for you, but not any more. You see, I don’t love you.” The calmness in her voice belied the turmoil inside. “Now give me my son.” Reaching to collect little Jamie, who by now was screaming hysterically, she did not expect what happened next. Raising his hand, Trent brought it down hard against her temple and sent her reeling across the room.
“I must be out of my mind to want you back,” he snapped. “Dancing and laughing, and flirting with every man in sight. You’re nothing but a trollop!”
Hurt and dazed, she dragged herself up by the chair; somewhere in the chaos of her mind she heard Jamie crying. “Give me back my son!” she said hoarsely.
&n
bsp; “Want the brat back, do you?” He gave a low, grating laugh that sent shivers through her. “You can have him … but you’ll have to take me as well.”
Lucy was frantic. “Please, Frank, it wouldn’t work between us. All I want is to be left in peace.”
Clambering up against the chair, she went sprawling again when he thrust his booted foot into her side. “You don’t seem to understand what I’m saying,” he growled. “You either come with me now, or I’m taking him with me, and you’ll never see him again. So, what’s it to be?”
Terrified that he might carry out his threat, Lucy was tempted to give in and let him stay—anything to have little Jamie safely back in her arms. But what then? He might rape her—get her with child again! Her flesh shuddered at the thought of his touch. He was repulsive to her. Anyway, he would soon discover that it was a trick on her part, and then his rage would know no bounds. What would happen to her and Jamie then?
“Well?” He stood over her, his face dark with loathing.
Lucy looked at her son, still sobbing with fear. She turned her gaze on Frank and begged, “Don’t hurt him, please. If you want to stay, you can stay, and we’ll talk again in the morning.”
When she saw the look in his eyes she knew it wasn’t enough. “Please, Frank, you’re asking me to give up everything I know and love, to go away with you. I’m not saying no, but I’m not saying yes either. Give me time to think about it; you owe me that much.” She held out her arms. “And now … give me the child.”
As he cut across toward the river on his way back home, Barney thought it was the most beautiful time of day, when the moon was full and round and the skies speckled with a myriad of twinkling stars. All along the chilly hedgerows he could hear the night animals scurrying about, and in the distance, the unique sound of a barn owl. “You made something wonderful when You made this earth,” he murmured, his gaze roving the heavens. There was such peace and beauty on God’s earth, and he felt deeply privileged to be a part of it.
Then, suddenly, Barney was made to stop in his tracks. “What’s that?” From somewhere close he could hear the sounds of human voices raised in anger. Turning this way and that, he tried to pinpoint where the voices were coming from, but it was difficult; the tumbling of water from the weir diverted his senses.
The Journey Page 24