by Anne Doughty
‘I knew something must be badly wrong when you said not to ask about him in your note. We guessed you didn’t want to spoil Hannah’s last evening.’
‘I knew I could depend on you,’ Rose said warmly. ‘Friday evening really did make up for the previous Sunday.’
She fell silent for a little as she collected her thoughts and then told her friend as clearly as she could what had happened over Sunday lunch.
‘And you’ve not had a letter from him?’ Elizabeth asked, the strong lines of her face making her look severe as she listened intently.
‘Only the one John and I wrote that evening with the cheque. He returned it unopened.’
‘That was hard on you both,’ she said coolly, her clear grey eyes full of sympathy.
‘Yes, it was awful, Elizabeth. My stomach turned over when I saw our address in his handwriting, but maybe that’s where I’ve changed. I was hurt. I was even more hurt for John. But then I began to think. We did all we could for Jamie. We loved him and cared for him. He’s reached manhood, which many a poor child never does. If he has to go his own way, then we’ve got to accept it. I’m sad. Of course, I’m sad. But I won’t let it bring the world down round me. There are others who need my love and care. Jamie has walked away. If he comes back, he’ll be made welcome, but if he chooses not to, life must go on without him.’
Elizabeth nodded, reassured that Rose had been able to reach beyond the pain and disappointment.
‘Did John take it hard?’
‘He did at first. But the night after he came back from leaving Hannah in Dublin, he suddenly said to me. “Jamie’s alive. He has all we gave him. It’s in God’s hands whether he comes back or not. We mustn’t grieve for what is his own choice.”’
‘I think John is right. I think you both are. It is very sad. But how much sadder if Jamie had been killed in the yard. Or if Sam hadn’t been so quick on his feet, when that wagon started to roll,’ she said, dropping her work in her lap. ‘You’ve had quite a homecoming, Rose.’
Rose smiled ruefully.
‘If anyone had told me in February that Jamie would have taken himself off in a huff, that Sam would be unemployed, Hannah engaged and in Switzerland, I really couldn’t have believed it,’ she declared. ‘And I certainly wouldn’t have thought I had the strength to cope with it. Perhaps that’s the gift of my illness. I knew I gave thanks for all the good things in my life, but I hadn’t given thanks for life itself.’
Elizabeth nodded slowly and said nothing. She’d had a great deal to give thanks for herself in these last demanding months, but her story would keep. She was more concerned about the burdens Rose had shouldered the moment she arrived home.
‘How do you think Sam is?’ she asked quietly. ‘He was being quite philosophical about it when we talked to him on Friday, but there was hurt there as well.’
‘He’s fine physically. He couldn’t have had a better doctor, but I can see he’s worried about getting a job. He reads every newspaper he can lay hands on and asks for more. John thinks he shouldn’t even consider going back to Thompson’s, even if they did offer to reemploy him when the leg’s mended.’
‘Yes, I agree with John,’ replied Elizabeth, nodding vigorously. ‘Hugh was absolutely furious when he heard what had happened. He thinks Sam wouldn’t have got his cards if he’d been a member of the lodge. Thompson became Master this year and by a remarkable coincidence most of the lads who work for him join as soon as they’re seventeen,’ she said sharply.
Rose sighed and put down her work.
‘Oh Elizabeth, how stupid of me. I never thought of that. I should have guessed. When Jamie made his disparaging remarks about Catholics, it was Sam who asked him if that was what they taught him at the lodge. I suppose he’d heard that kind of talk at work. Knowing Sam, he’d just set it aside in his own quiet way but it looks as if the accident was an opportunity to get rid of him, doesn’t it?’
‘I’m afraid it does. But you mustn’t worry,’ Elizabeth went on quickly. ‘Hugh said I was to tell you he’s found something that might suit him. A cousin of mine, one of the Pearsons, has started up a new haulage business. They’re a Quaker family too, so there’d be no nonsense about joining the lodge. There is one problem, however,’ she added. ‘That’s why he asked me to tell you before he spoke to Sam.’
‘What’s that then?’
‘It’s in Portadown, Rose,’ she said steadily. ‘Sam would have to live in digs like Jamie. Do you think he could manage that? He seems so happy at home. And what about you?’ she went on, looking hard at her friend. ‘Jamie, Hannah and Sam, all gone in the course of one summer?’
Rose smiled reassuringly.
‘I told Sam the other day that his Granny Hannah always used to say “Your children are only lent to you.” It looks like we’re handing them all back. Except for Sarah. And even she’s growing up fast,’ she added, smiling, as she held up the bodice of the dress she was making for her.
Elizabeth nodded and grinned broadly, her whole face transformed, her grey eyes twinkling.
‘Oh Rose dear, I did have to laugh on Saturday morning. Poor old Hugh,’ she went on, smiling. ‘He looked over my shoulder on Friday night as we walked into your kitchen and he thought, “Oh, a visitor, I wonder who she is,” and the next moment Sarah smiled at him and he couldn’t believe his eyes,’ she went on. ‘And all day Saturday he kept saying to me, “Hasn’t Sarah grown over the summer? Weren’t those pictures she took remarkable?” I think he still hasn’t got over the shock.’
‘Then that makes two of them,’ said Rose laughing happily. ‘Sarah told me she wondered who the tall man was. She says she didn’t recognise him till he smiled at her. Can you believe it, Elizabeth, him walking properly again after all these years? John said he looked ten years younger, more like twenty two than thirty two. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him laugh so much as he did on Friday night. I began to think it was your lovely pear wine,’ she said, dropping her work in her lap and studying her friend’s face.
‘It was a splendid evening, Rose. I hope Hannah enjoyed it,’ she said, a hint of sadness in her voice.
‘Yes, she did. She said it really made up for the way Jamie spoilt Sunday’s celebration. It’s not like Hannah to be so forthright, but she was really angry at Jamie for forgetting who his grandparents were and how many of his uncles and aunts are Catholic.’
‘Will Hannah be happy, Rose?’
‘With Teddy?’
Elizabeth nodded silently.
‘Yes,’ she said simply. ‘There was something between them from the beginning, but I missed it because Teddy spent so much time teaching Sarah photography. I didn’t realise Hannah was always there in the background encouraging him. Anne told me she’s the only girl Teddy’s ever looked at. She said when they went to a ball and she asked him the name of the last girl he’d danced with, he could never even remember,’ she added, grinning.
‘So you think we’ll have a wedding next year?’
‘Setting aside illness and accident, I can’t see anything else coming between them. They’re totally committed to each other.’
‘I thought we might make them a quilt …’
Rose glanced up and saw a small, awkward smile on her friend’s face. She looked at her more closely and recalled the unusual radiance about her last Friday evening. This morning too, there was an air of excitement that hadn’t totally vanished as they’d spoken of Jamie and Sam and Hannah.
‘Elizabeth,’ she began firmly, ‘we’ve gone through my entire family and not said a word about you. There’s something you’re not telling me, isn’t there?’
To her absolute amazement, Elizabeth blushed.
‘I don’t know when it will be possible,’ she began awkwardly. ‘I can’t leave Hugh till he’s properly recovered, but I have promised to marry someone.’
‘Someone!’ exclaimed Rose. ‘Do I know this extremely fortunate individual?’
‘Yes, you do. In fact, it’s all your doing,�
�� she replied shyly. ‘It’s Richard Stewart from Dromore. He says he knew he wanted me to be his wife when he looked at me across your bed. He asked me to think about it before we went to Manchester. After his visit to Sam on Monday he came up here and asked me what I’d decided.’
‘And you said ‘yes’ to Richard Stewart on Monday and didn’t tell me,’ said Rose, with a feeble attempt at outrage.
‘It’s taken me till today to believe it,’ admitted Elizabeth honestly.
‘Then I forgive you,’ said Rose, beaming with delight, as she got up to kiss her friend. ‘I think we’d better start on a quilt for you. You’ll be married long before Hannah, if Hugh and John and I have anything to do with it,’ she said, glancing at the clock.
‘Goodness,’ said Elizabeth, ‘it’s almost twelve. I don’t know where the morning’s gone. I’ve missed you so, Rose dear. Suddenly, there seems so much to catch up on. Can we meet again soon?’
‘As soon as you like. I’ve missed you just as much. And I want to hear a great deal more about Richard Stewart of Dromore. Oh Elizabeth, I’m so pleased. It makes up for so much,’ she said, standing up. ‘What about Tuesday? If you come to me, I can cut out on the parlour table and you can have a look at Sam for yourself. He always loves seeing you.’
‘Yes, let’s make it Tuesday,’ said Elizabeth promptly. ‘I’ll see you before I’m sure, but Tuesday will give us time to talk.’
Rose collected up her sewing and they said a hurried goodbye. She walked briskly down the lime avenue, her eye picking out the first yellow leaves lodged in the longer grass at their feet. At its end, away from the arching canopy of the trees, she stared up at acres of bright blue sky piled high with masses of cloud. She loved this walk from Rathdrum to Ballydown, less than a quarter of a mile, but so varied, each handful of yards revealing a different perspective, green fields, ploughed earth, the sharp outline of the Mournes, so close in the bright light.
After their quiet period in late summer the birds were active again too. Everywhere, there were scuffles and flutterings in the hedgerows and ditches. A whole flock of sparrows rose protesting as she walked towards the bush where they sat. Cheeping furiously, they flew off, wheeled and came back, settling almost exactly where they had been.
‘Hello, Sam. Have you had a walk?’
‘Aye, I’ve been to the gate a couple of times between visitors.’
‘Visitors? So who did you have?’ Rose asked, delighted that he’d had company while she’d been away.
‘Michael MacMurray said he’d like a word with Da. He came to ask when was a good time to catch him. He stayed a while. He says they’ve settled on Canada. It’s been a bad year for him. He says another like that and he’d not be able to pay the mortgage on the bit of land he owns.’
‘Oh dear,’ said Rose, as she began laying the table. ‘I’ll be very sad to lose such good neighbours, but he’s spoken about Canada more than once recently. What about his potatoes?’
‘They’re all right he says. No blight, but a poor yield. I’ve a feelin’ he can’t pay Da the rent of our field. That’s why he wants to see him.’
‘Oh well,’ said Rose, pulling the kettle forward and preparing to make tea, ‘Da’ll not be hard on him. Sure what’s a few pounds from a neighbour when things are so bad with him.’
She went out into the dairy for cheese and cold meat. It was only as she brought it back to the table she remembered Sam had said ‘visitors’.
‘Who else did you have, Sam?’
‘I had a visit from my Boss, as was.’
‘Thompson?’
‘Aye,’ he replied, nodding at her, as she paused, teapot in hand, a look of amazement on her face.
‘What did he want?’ she asked shortly.
‘He said I could have my job back, provided I joined the lodge.’
‘And what did you say?’ Rose asked, wide-eyed.
‘I said that unfortunately I had something else in mind.’
‘And have you?’
‘No. But I intend to see that I have, as soon as the plaster’s off,’ he replied, with a cool determination she’d never heard before.
‘Well, John, that’s got that sorted out,’ Hugh said, putting down the oil can and wiping his hands on a piece of cotton waste. ‘There’s something I want to talk to you about. Why don’t we go and sit in comfort in the conservatory and I’ll ask Mrs Lappin to bring us a mug of tea. The ladies are at your house this morning, I’m told.’
‘Aye, so I hear,’ replied John, as he turned off the lights over the work bench and parked a hammer on the drawings he’d been working from, so they wouldn’t blow away in the draught. ‘I think there’s a bit of talk to be caught up on after the summer, so Rose says.’
‘They’re not the only ones has some catching up to do,’ Hugh replied, as he picked up his stick, pulled back his shoulders and took a deep breath before he strode out and headed for the back door.
‘I can’t get over how well y’are walkin’ Hugh,’ said John, catching up with him. ‘I still have to remind m’self what ye’ve went through, because it looks so easy now.’
‘Even better when I get rid of the stick,’ he replied grinning, as Mrs Lappin appeared and they sat themselves down to wait for their tea.
‘How long does Doctor Stewart think that’ll be?’
‘Depends on me. If I do all the exercises regularly to build up the muscles and keep walking every day, it could be as little as a year.’
‘Man that’s great,’ said John warmly. ‘And so’s this,’ he added, nodding his thanks to the older woman as she put a mug of tea in his hand and set down a plate of homemade biscuits between them.
‘John, my friend, I had a lot of time to think when I was away in Manchester. After the operation, I was quite helpless for a week or more. I couldn’t do anything at all for myself. Real disability concentrates the mind,’ he said soberly. ‘I’m truly sorry you had such a hard time of it here all those weeks, but something good will come out of it.’
John looked across at him, a slightly puzzled look on his face.
‘If I’d asked you to go and do all the things you did in those five weeks I was away you’d have said, quite rightly, that it was my job. You committed yourself to working on machinery, not sorting out disputes and management problems and dealing with a fire. You might also have told me you couldn’t do them, mightn’t you?’ he added, with a slight grin, a note of question in his voice.
‘You’re right there,’ John responded vigorously. ‘It wasn’t my line of country at all, but sure there was nothin’ else for it, was there?’
Hugh laughed heartily.
‘John, you know they did tell me two to three weeks. I had no idea of landing you with five. But an ill wind sometimes blows in something good,’ he went on, pausing to drink from his mug. ‘What your five weeks showed me was something I’d not have seen otherwise. I couldn’t have managed as well these last years if you hadn’t been here to help me. Oh yes,’ he said, raising a hand to stop John’s protest. ‘I know what you’re going to say. You were only doing your job. Nonsense man. You were making it possible for me to do mine as well. If I hadn’t had you backing me up and listening to me when I was at my wits’ end what to do for the best, the Sinton mills wouldn’t be as well off now as they are.’
He paused and John fidgeted awkwardly.
‘Now John, plain speaking is the Quaker rule as you well know, so let me be plain. I want you to come into partnership with me. Now, don’t start objecting till you’ve heard me out,’ he went on quickly. ‘When I was lying in bandages, I saw clearly that you already were my partner. You just weren’t getting the credit for it. Nor were you getting paid for it. I want that put right immediately,’ he said coolly, naming a figure that left John speechless.
‘I’ve been remiss, John. I’ve never paid much attention to money beyond looking at the balance sheet each year. I’ve never actually drawn a salary from the business myself, just taken enough from the profits to
cover our expenses living here. I talked to a textile finance expert in Manchester and when I told him that, he just laughed at me. He pointed out that the money I didn’t take simply increased the company’s tax bill. He then went on to tell me how firms went broke.’
John sat wide-eyed, listening carefully. He’d always left the running of the household money to Rose, assuming he wouldn’t be any good at something she did so well. It had never struck him that, for years now, he and Hugh had been discussing expenditure of all kinds. Whether to repair looms or change them. Whether to extend the weaving sheds to cope with big orders that might only be temporary. Which contractor to employ for repairs after a storm, or a flood. Which insurance company offered the best rates for the critical fire policies.
‘Did he now?’ he said, putting his empty mug down without taking his eyes from Hugh’s face.
‘Yes, he did,’ he replied, nodding cheerfully. ‘It might surprise you to know, John, we’ve been on the right track for all we didn’t know it? Apparently, the main cause of mills going down is that they don’t keep up with changing technology. And when they do see they’re being left behind, they panic and bring in a whole lot of new machinery, all in one go. They clean forget they have to train up staff to use it, so their production drops and the quality too. Consequently they lose orders just when they’ve big bank borrowings. Then it only needs one more thing to go wrong, a change in fashion, a lift in the exchange rate, higher shipping costs, or a rise in the price of steam coal, and that’s it. The straw that breaks the camel’s back. Receivership. As easy as that, John,’ he said, spreading his hands out in a sweeping gesture.
‘If I hadn’t had your reports in Manchester about what you’d done and what you thought needed doing, I might not have started thinking, and I certainly wouldn’t have asked around and found a specialist in textile finance. We’ve done very well despite our ignorance, John. I think we must make changes to secure the future, but I can’t do it on my own.’
He paused and looked steadily at his friend.
‘Now say you’ll be my partner and give me your hand on it.’