Comfort Me With Apples

by Comfort Me

  He walked about for hours, unaware of his surroundings and of the people he passed, his mind in turmoil. Gradually he became calmer and when he heard a church bell he was surprised to find that he had walked full circle and was once again near St Francis Xavier’s church. He felt suddenly exhausted and went to compose his mind, soothed by the familiar ritual of the Benediction and making vague plans.

  He saw Anna and Dorrie as he left and flushed at the memory of his humiliation that morning but Dorrie smiled at him warmly. The thought of that smile and his musings in church gave him the courage to confront his mother again, determined to ignore any abuse she flung at him.

  His mother had been stoking up her anger all the time he was away and as soon as he appeared she unleashed it. ‘How dare you defy me?’ she screamed. ‘I’m your mother. You owe me respect but you’ve always been useless and ungrateful. I wasted my life with your fool of a father and ruined my health when you were bom and for what? A half-witted idiot who’s been nothing but a curse to me and a disgrace to my dear brother, who deserves better.’

  She stopped for breath and James stood, half turned away, his lips set, letting the abuse wash over him, but when she went on, ‘And now making a show of me, you fat, stupid fool, with that common brazen hussy who’s only laughing up her sleeve at you,’ it was too much.

  He bent over her, staring at her with hatred and shouting, ‘That’s enough! You evil, foul-mouthed old bitch. You’re not fit to wipe her shoes.’

  The effect on his mother was dramatic. She fell back in her chair, gasping for breath, with her face purple and her eyes protruding. There was no one he could ask for help so he ran to Dr O’Brien’s surgery. Fortunately the doctor was at home and returned with him immediately but they found Mrs Hargreaves already dead.

  ‘It’s my fault,’ James said. ‘I killed her. I called her an evil, foul-mouthed old bitch.’

  ‘And what had she said to you to cause that, eh?’ the doctor said shrewdly. ‘Now, listen to me, young man. I don’t want to hear any more of that. Your mother died of a bad temper, no matter what I put on the death certificate. She wasn’t the first of my patients to die of that and she won’t be the last. I’ve warned her about overeating and allowing herself to fall into these rages so she was responsible for her own death, nobody else.’

  ‘But it was right after I shouted at her,’ James said.

  ‘No matter. She could have controlled her temper but she chose to indulge in it. I don’t want to hear another word about you blaming yourself and say nothing to your uncle. I know all about the pair of them. My advice is put this behind you now and get on with your own life.’

  He scribbled a note and went to the door to send a boy with it to his wife. ‘Now suppose we have a cup of tea,’ he said. ‘My wife will make the necessary arrangements and notify your uncle and I’ll stay with you until he arrives.’

  They went to the kitchen and Dr O’Brien helped James on to a chair. ‘You’ve had a shock,’ he said. ‘I’ll make the tea.’

  After drinking the tea and eating a thick slice of bread and butter James felt that he was back to normal, but when the doctor questioned him gently he spoke more freely than he had ever done, and Dr O’Brien gained an insight into his life and the events of the day, of which James would normally never have spoken.

  Shortly afterwards, two women arrived to lay out the body, soon followed by James Seddon. ‘My condolences,’ the doctor said. ‘A great shock for her son, but not unexpected.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ James Seddon barked and Dr O’Brien said smoothly, ‘I’m sure your sister has told you that I warned her about the state of her heart. Two inches of fat around it. This could have happened any time in the past few years.’

  ‘She complained of her health but a lot of that was distress caused by her son. Have you been upsetting her again?’ James Seddon said fiercely to his nephew.

  Before James could speak Dr O’Brien intervened. ‘Mr Hargreaves has been a most devoted son and he behaved admirably on this occasion. Did all the right things but nothing could have saved his mother. She died shortly after I arrived.’

  James listened with amazement but said nothing and his uncle growled, ‘You surprise me. Not what I would have expected.’

  Dr O’Brien stared at him and said deliberately, ‘A family physician learns a great deal about his patients and their families but, like a priest, we never divulge what we learn unless it is necessary.’

  James Seddon stared back at him for a moment then his gaze dropped and he said no more.

  The doctor picked up his bag and James escorted him to the door and tried to thank him. Dr O’Brien put his hand on his arm. ‘That fellow is a bully and a windbag. Stand up to him, James. Windbags are easily pricked.’ He smiled. ‘Don’t forget, call me if you need me. My wife and I will do anything to help.’

  ‘Th-thank you,’ James stuttered but the doctor was already gone.

  James closed the door, feeling bemused, not least by the doctor’s use of his Christian name, but it gave him a feeling of security, of having a friend.

  James Seddon seemed unusually subdued but he took charge of all the arrangements for the funeral. After the Requiem Mass, followed by the burial at Ford Cemetery, the mourners went to James Seddon’s house in Fairfield to be served a meal by his grim housekeeper.

  Everyone dispersed after the meal. James knew that his uncle would have liked them both to return to the office but for form’s sake they had the rest of the day off. After the gloom of his uncle’s house James was relieved to find Frances O’Neill at his own house with a bright fire burning and the kettle on for tea.

  Although he pretended no grief for his mother he was astounded when Frances said cheerfully, ‘You won’t know yourself now, will you? You’ll be able to have a bit of life for yourself at last.’

  James was lost for words but Frances was only saying what he had already thought, that now he would be free to go where he would see Dorrie, even speak to her.

  ‘Wasn’t no life for a young man,’ Frances went on. ‘Stuck in the office all day with that Seddon, then coming home to do the housework that I couldn’t do and play cards with your ma.’

  ‘It was my duty,’ James felt compelled to say but Frances snorted.

  ‘Aye, I know that’s what she drilled into you,’ she said. ‘The truth is you were too nice for your own good and she played on it like she done with your father. You take after him. There’s nothing of her or your uncle in you.’

  James smiled at her. He liked the plucky little woman who worked so hard in spite of her disability and, knowing nothing but bullying and disapproval all his life, her kindness had meant a great deal to him. She was a strong character who could give as good as she got from his mother and had worked for her for many years despite frequent quarrels.

  Mrs Hargreaves knew that no one else would work so hard for long hours and little pay as Frances, and it suited Frances to stay, so these storms always blew over. Frances had once told James that she stayed because without a regular job she would be used by her family.

  ‘I’d just be a handrag for them, called on when any of them were confined or thought I’d be handy. Being as they’re family I’d get no thanks and of course never a penny. This way I can do this and my other little job and I’m never there for them.’

  James knew that her ‘other little job’ was cleaning offices very early in the morning and in the evening, before and after working for his mother.

  Now she handed James a cup of tea and perched on a kitchen chair to drink her own, gazing at him with bright eyes, her head on one side. James was reminded of a thrush.

  ‘What are you going to do now then?’ she asked.

  ‘I’m not going into the office today. My uncle isn’t either so it’s all right,’ he said, misunderstanding her.

  ‘I don’t mean that,’ she said. ‘I’m talking about what you’re going to do with your life now you’re on your own. D’you know what I’d do if I was
you?’

  ‘No. Go on – tell me,’ he said, smiling at her.

  ‘I’d strike out. Find another job. You’ll never get nowhere in that office ’cos your uncle’s against you. You’d have to carry on for a bit, get yourself sorted out like, but now’s your chance to have a life of your own.’

  James said nothing for a moment, sipping his tea and thinking, but he said finally, ‘I think you’re right, Frances, but I don’t think I can do it. I mightn’t get another place. I only got this job through my uncle and I’m pretty useless, you know.’

  He smiled ruefully but Frances said indignantly, ‘No, you’re not. That’s only what she told you – and him – your uncle. You don’t know what you can do without them on your back.’

  James shrugged. ‘I’d like to do it, Frances, but I need my salary. I mean what about this house, the bills here? Mother handled all that but we only just managed on my salary. I couldn’t risk being without it.’

  ‘There isn’t much to lay out here. Food and coal, and a few shillings for cleaning stuff and lamp oil and that, and my few bob,’ Frances said. ‘The house is bought and paid for.’

  She hesitated, then said, ‘Your ma had a long stocking, y’know. She kept it quiet from you but she had a good pension from your father’s job and she saved outa your salary and all.’

  ‘How do you know that?’ James said in surprise.

  ‘She had to talk to somebody and I suppose she thought I didn’t matter. She had to brag how clever she was. I thought it was funny, a woman handling all the money, but she told me once why she done it. She’d had a bit of money left to her when she was young but when a woman got married everything she had was her husband’s property like.’

  ‘But that was altered in 1882. The Married Women’s Property Act,’ James said.

  ‘I don’t know about that,’ said Frances. ‘But she’d been married for a while then. As soon as she was married she started saving from her housekeeping money.’

  ‘But why?’ said James. ‘I’m sure my father wouldn’t have touched her money or insisted on his legal rights.’

  ‘I know,’ Frances said. ‘But she said laws were made by men to suit men and it was up to women to look out for themselves. She was determined to have a nest egg that was just hers.’

  ‘I never knew she felt like that,’ James said. ‘Or that she would do anything so secretive. She was such a pattern of rectitude.’

  ‘That’s the impression she gave,’ Frances said dryly. ‘She couldn’t talk about it to her brother so I suppose that’s why she talked to me. She knew I didn’t blame her for hoarding the money and it’ll come in handy for you now, won’t it?’

  ‘If I can find it,’ James said but Frances said airily, ‘I know where she kept it. At the back of her wardrobe. She got me to lift the bag on to her bed once. I think she wanted to count it.’ She glanced at the clock, then carried her cup and saucer to the sink. ‘I’d better get on,’ she said. ‘And you can go and look for the money. You’ll need the key to her wardrobe.’

  ‘My uncle took the keys,’ James said. ‘He’s the executor of her will.’

  Frances sat down again and stared at him in amazement. ‘That didn’t give him no right to take your keys,’ she said. ‘What did he say about the house and that?’

  ‘He said the house and contents would be mine but he’d supervise me,’ said James.

  ‘Why? You’re over twenty-one and anyway it was your father left the house to you, not her. You want to go and see the lawyer fellow and ask him about your father’s will. You needn’t let on to old Seddon what you’re doing.’

  James looked stunned. ‘I’m sure you’re wrong, Frances,’ he said. ‘How could my father leave it to me? I was only a baby when he died.’

  ‘I don’t know. I only know he done it,’ Frances said stubbornly. ‘And with a lawyer. Your ma was in bed with sciatica and I was looking after her when your father come in and said he’d done what she said. “The house and contents and any money,” he said. “It’s all quite legal.” Years after he died she told me he’d tricked her, left everything to her while she was alive and then to you. Real mad she was, calling him for everything. Said he was making sure your uncle never got nothing.’

  James stood up and walked about, too agitated to keep still. ‘It’s unbelievable,’ he said. ‘All this and I knew nothing! What a fool I’ve been, drifting along, never asking any questions. I knew she hated my father although she pretended to grieve for him but I never dared to question her. That’s the truth of it, Frances. I never dared to question anything. I’m just a coward.’

  ‘No, you’re not. You was just unlucky, bullied by the pair of them from when you was a little kid. No wonder you was afraid to ask questions. Anyone would’ve been. And she put on a good act about your father, the wicked mare. Well, maybe she’s paying for it now.’

  Frances took a flask from the drawer of the table and poured brandy from it into the cap. ‘Here, get that down you, lad,’ she said and took a swig from the flask herself. James felt the brandy exploding like fire inside him. ‘We both needed that. I found it skied away in her room,’ Frances said.

  She sat down again. ‘That’s a facer, him taking the keys, though,’ she said. ‘Your ma was such a one for locks. I can’t even get me cleaning things ’cos the cupboard’s locked and the tea caddy’s nearly empty but the store cupboard’s locked.’

  ‘And the coal cellar,’ James said grimly. ‘I must have gone round in a dream but I’ve woken up now. I’m going round to my uncle’s for the keys this minute.’

  Frances encouraged him, knowing that his anger, and possibly the unaccustomed brandy, would give him the courage to outface his uncle.

  James called a cab to drive to his uncle’s house in Fairfield and told the cabby to wait. ‘My business won’t take long,’ he said grimly. The housekeeper was reluctant to admit him but he insisted and was shown to James Seddon’s study. ‘I’ve come for my household keys, Uncle,’ he said abruptly.

  ‘The keys! I’ll keep those. I intend to go through your mother’s papers but this is not a suitable day,’ his uncle said sternly.

  ‘I need them now,’ James said. ‘Everything in the house is locked up. The coal cellar, the store cupboard, even the cleaning cupboard, so I must have the keys at once.’

  His uncle still demurred but James insisted and finally the keys were produced. ‘Make sure you relock everything immediately,’ James Seddon said. ‘And take care of these keys. Have you still got that hunchback coming in?’

  James felt a rush of anger but he said calmly, ‘Frances O’Neill is absolutely honest. Anything is safe with her and not because of locks and keys. She’s a good-living woman.’

  ‘All very well,’ his uncle grumbled. ‘Trust nobody, that’s the best policy.’

  ‘I kept the cab,’ James said ‘Goodbye, Uncle.’

  ‘Don’t be late tomorrow,’ his uncle growled.

  James drove home. In addition to his usual feelings of revulsion he felt anger at his uncle’s words about Frances and was amazed at his own temerity in answering him. He felt that he had taken the first step in his new life.

  Frances told him he looked a different man already. ‘I feel different,’ said James. ‘You’re right, Frances. This is my chance to change my life and I’m going to start by unlocking every door and cupboard in this house and leaving them unlocked.’

  When he opened his mother’s wardrobe he was met by an overpowering smell of camphor but at the back he found two large canvas bags containing sovereigns and half-sovereigns to the value of over four hundred pounds. He was both hurt and angry at the discovery when he recalled how all his salary had been claimed for the house.

  He took ten pounds in sovereigns and ten in half-sovereigns and went down to Frances. ‘You were right,’ he said abruptly. ‘There was over four hundred pounds there. I know you’ve been underpaid for years, Frances, so I’ve brought this for you.’ At first Frances refused to take anything but finally
they compromised on ten pounds. ‘And a fair amount for your work in future,’ James said.

  ‘Will you still want me to come in then?’ Frances asked. ‘I was wondering.’

  ‘Yes, if it suits you,’ James assured her. ‘It would certainly suit me.’

  ‘Glad to,’ said Frances. ‘I’d have a chance to give the house a good clean. I don’t want to interfere like but if I was you I’d sell this house and most of the furniture. It’s all good stuff, walnut and mahogany. You’d get a good price for it. You might even sell the furniture with the house, they go so well together.’

  ‘But where would I live?’ James said, stunned by the suddenness of the suggestion.

  Frances had evidently thought it out. ‘Plenty of good houses to rent, especially just for one man. The house’ll be clean when you come to sell and you could add the money you make from it to that nest egg,’ she said. ‘Buy a house and furniture to suit your bride like when you come to settle down,’ she added with a sidelong smile.

  James looked at her in stunned silence and she looked back at him with twinkling eyes, then took down her shawl and pinned a battered felt hat to her bun of hair. ‘I’ll go to the butcher’s on my way here tomorrow and get something for your tea and I’ll have the fire lit and the tea ready when you get home. Your mother had weekly accounts at the butcher’s and the grocer’s. I’ll carry that on, shall I?’

  James smiled at her. ‘Yes please, Frances. I can see I’d be lost without you. I’m glad you’ve decided to stay.’

  ‘Aye, well, I’ll do anything I can to help,’ she said. She picked up the blue sugar bag containing her sovereigns. ‘Thanks for the baksheesh too. Don’t get upset over that money. She couldn’t help her nature.’

  Frances left and James sat down by the fire, enjoying his solitude and intending to look through his mother’s papers later, but the events of the day and the revelations from Frances had exhausted him. He went to bed and fell asleep immediately.