by Comfort Me
‘Why didn’t you want James to know?’ asked Anna.
‘Because I don’t know what’s in it and I don’t want him to get mixed up with the law. That’s why I didn’t want you to be involved but if it would ease Susan Deagan I want her to have a bottle.’
‘Should I ask Maggie or should I take the bottle for her to decide?’ asked Anna. ‘I think the morphine is still helping Mrs Deagan.’
‘I don’t know what to do,’ Frances said. ‘I want to help Susan but I don’t want to get Rosa into trouble. She’s been so good to me. When I told her I couldn’t manage to pour the stuff into a medicine bottle, I don’t know how she did it, but the next time she brought it in a dozen medicine bottles.’
She looked so worried that Anna impulsively squeezed her hand and said gently, ‘Don’t worry any more. I’ll have a word with Maggie. I’ll just find out if the morphine is still working and if it is there’s no need to mention the medicine. I can always come to you for some if it’s needed.’
Frances sighed with relief. ‘That’s a weight off my mind. I’ve been worried about it ever since I heard about Susan Deagan,’ she said.
‘She’s sleeping most of the time now,’ Anna said, ‘but when she’s awake and the family are there she’s always bright and cheerful. Still managing their arrangements too.’ She laughed. ‘She’s arranged for Maggie and Walter to move in permanently and for Norah and her husband to have Maggie’s house. I didn’t think it would be grand enough for Frank Sutton but I think that big house is too expensive for him, now that Norah’s shop has been sold. It’ll keep Norah closer to the family too.’
Frances smiled at Anna. ‘I’d love to talk to you all night,’ she said, ‘but it’s not fair to James, I suppose. You’d better go and talk to him because he won’t come and interrupt us. You’ve made a big difference in him, Anna. He’s so much happier since he got friendly with you.’
Anna blushed and stood up. ‘I’ve enjoyed our talk, Frances,’ she said. ‘I’d like to talk longer but I’ll do as you say.’
She went to the parlour and James sprang to his feet. He had already folded up the newspapers and had been idly staring into the fire and he seemed delighted to see her. It was balm to Anna’s spirit to be so warmly welcomed by James and parted with so reluctantly by Frances, but she realised that she would soon have to return home.
She sighed. ‘I’ll have to go home soon,’ she said. ‘Time passes so quickly here.’
Darkness had fallen and the curtains had been drawn and the central gaslight lit. The fire burned brightly and the room looked cosy and welcoming and she sighed again.
‘But not immediately,’ James said, looking so dismayed that she said recklessly, ‘I might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb,’ and sat down smiling.
‘Is there anything I can do to help, anything at all?’ James asked but Anna said, ‘No,’ very firmly.
She was ashamed to tell anyone of the sordid scenes about money and was determined that when her father came home she was going to tell him what was happening, no matter what trouble it caused. The refusal of money for the visit to the Jensons’ was the last straw, but before that her correspondence with friends in Dublin had almost ceased because she was unable to obtain stamps from her mother, and Dorrie had given up sending, and there had been numerous other humiliations.
She realised her refusal had been too abrupt and to soften it she said smiling, ‘My main offence is not being Dorrie. My mother misses her so much,’ then felt she had been tactless in saying that to James and added, ‘I’m sorry to keep talking about her.’
He was putting wood on the fire and with his head bent he said gruffly, ‘I suppose you think I’m a fool or worse, still thinking like this about a married woman.’
‘Why should I?’Anna said. ‘I’m the last person entitled to think that. If people knew…’ She sat twisting her hands together in agitation and James gently put his hand on them. ‘I can’t just forget Eugene!’ she burst out. ‘Whatever he is, I can’t stop loving him just like that.’ Tears ran down her face and splashed on their hands and James silently handed her his folded handkerchief.
She wiped her eyes and they sat drawing comfort from each other for a moment then Anna said, ‘You don’t know what I’m talking about.’
‘I know something has gone wrong between you and Eugene and you’ve been very unhappy,’ James said. ‘I felt that was why you were so understanding about me and Dorrie.’ Anna was shaking and he very tentatively put his arm around her. She leaned against him, twisting the handkerchief between her fingers.
‘I don’t know how to explain to you. I suppose you know about such things but I didn’t. Mrs O’Brien explained it by saying that he had two sides to his nature, one was attracted to girls and the other to men. Dorrie thinks he never loved me. He just used me to convince Dr O’Brien because he wanted to inherit the doctor’s money.’
‘I don’t believe that,’ James said firmly. ‘I saw how Eugene was with you at the bazaar and other times when he was home on leave. He wasn’t like that madman Dorrie married but he was a man in love, truly in love.’
‘Thank you, James,’ Anna said gratefully. ‘It means so much to me to believe that. You see, I just can’t forget him or stop loving him. I’m sorry for him, because he’s tried so hard, but other people have made it difficult for him.’
‘That weekend when Dorrie was home – had you just been told this?’ James asked. Anna nodded and he said, ‘I feel very selfish. You apologised to me for not warning me Dorrie was home and just said you had things on your mind. I wish you’d told me, Anna, or that I’d asked why you were upset.’
‘I couldn’t have told you then,’ Anna said. ‘It seems easy now.’
‘And what’s the position now? Are you still writing to Eugene?’ asked James.
‘No, it’s all over. He’s left the army and he’s travelling in Europe with an older man, an MP. It was hard for Dorrie and Michael because there was a lot of gossip. Michael’s mother wanted Dorrie to stay with her in Ireland until it died down but Michael said she wouldn’t miss the Christmas festivities at the depot.’
‘That was very disloyal of him,’ James said indignantly but Anna assured him it was not intended as criticism.
‘He’s worried about Dorrie settling down in married quarters,’ she explained.
Soon she decided that she must go, but she felt a sense of release in being able to talk about Eugene and it seemed that James appreciated that she understood his feelings for Dorrie.
They walked back to Westbourne Street in companionable silence and Anna felt fortified against the scene she expected but the house was peaceful.
‘Winnie Deagan has had a daughter,’ Nelly announced. ‘Two o’clock this afternoon and Gerald was up here at three like a dog with two tails. You just missed Jim and Kate. They come in for you and your ma decided she’d go instead.’
‘Isn’t that lovely? And Mrs Deagan will see it!’ Anna exclaimed. ‘Is Mama still in there?’
‘No. They gave her a glass of champagne and she’s gone to lay down,’ Nelly said with a wink. ‘Kate said you was to go in when you came home.’
Anna went immediately and found Jim, Luke and Walter in the kitchen with beaming smiles. Jim poured her a glass of champagne and Luke told her that Maggie was with her mother and Kate had gone home with Gerald to see Winnie and the baby.
‘Bring your glass with you to see Ma,’ Jim said, leading the way to his mother’s big front bedroom, where she lay propped up in bed.
Anna kissed her and raised her glass. ‘A toast to Grandma Deagan,’ she said and Mrs Deagan smiled.
‘I never thought I’d live to see the day,’ she said. ‘A granddaughter!’
Even her voice seemed stronger, Anna thought, and there was some colour in her pale cheeks but there was a warning glance from Maggie and Anna kissed Mrs Deagan again. ‘I’m made up,’ she said. ‘The best news I’ve heard for ages,’ and she and Jim left the room.
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sp; In the kitchen, Kate had just arrived and was talking excitedly about the baby. ‘She’s beautiful,’ she said. ‘Quite a lot of dark hair and blue eyes and she seems to be looking about her. She closed her fingers round Gerald’s finger and we thought he was going to take off like a balloon. Winnie looked wonderful too, tired, but so happy and pretty.’
‘It seems to have done wonders for your mother too,’ Anna said.
Kate said eagerly, ‘It’s made her so happy. Do you know, Anna, the first thing Winnie said when the nurse said it was a girl was, “She’s brought her name with her. Susan.” Ma cried when Gerald told her and you know she never cries.’
Anna found her own house still peaceful when she returned. Her aunt was out and her mother still slept as Anna told Nelly about Mrs Deagan and about the new baby and her name.
‘Did you have champagne?’ Nelly asked.
‘Yes. It was nice. I liked it,’ Anna said.
‘They must’ve give your ma more than one glass or else put sumpn in it to get rid of her,’ Nelly said. ‘She could hardly walk up the stairs and she’s slept like the dead ever since.’
‘I’ll have to get a few bottles in,’ Anna said dryly.
The baby was christened a week later. Winnie’s sister, Peggy Parsons, was godmother and Jim Deagan godfather to the baby, who was baptised Susan Winifred. Winnie was churched in a ceremony before the baptism, then taken to lie down in the Deagan house. All the family had assembled there and only the godparents were present at the baptism.
Gerald was plainly worried about Winnie. ‘The nurse went mad at the idea of her getting up and going out so soon,’ he said. ‘She said all her patients lie flat on the ninth day but Winnie was determined.’
‘Winnie knows what she’s doing,’ Maggie said placidly. ‘Don’t worry.’ Anna was invited in next door and went with the family to Mrs Deagan’s bedroom. The old lady lay propped up on snowy pillows, as though on a throne, and the baby, in her christening gown, was laid gently against her thin arm while the family gathered round the bed. Luke had set up a camera and took a photograph of his mother with the baby, then one with Gerald and Winnie at either side of them.
‘Two Susan Deagans,’ he said with a smile.
‘Yes. Not for long, but at least we’ve seen each other,’ his mother said, stroking the baby’s soft cheek. ‘God has been very good to me.’ The baby turned her head and seemed to look up at her grandmother and Gerald lifted her so that his mother could kiss her. ‘Susan,’ she said. ‘I hope she has as happy a life as I’ve had and as good a family. God bless her.’
Gerald gently lifted the baby away and kissed his mother and when Winnie bent to kiss her Mrs Deagan reached up and put her thin arm around her neck. ‘Thank you, girl,’ she said. ‘I’ll die a happy woman.’
Winnie left the room in tears. The others had already quietly moved away and she joined them for a few minutes in the parlour, while the baby was passed round and admired, then Gerald took them both home.
Before she left she said to her sister, ‘Tell everyone your news, Peg,’ but when Peggy hung her head shyly Winnie announced, ‘Peg is going to marry Jimmy O’Dowd at the end of January.’
There were exclamations of pleasure from all the Deagans and Kate said emphatically, ‘Good. He’s entitled to some happiness and I’m sure you’ll both be very happy, Peggy.’
The cab was waiting so Winnie and Gerald left but Luke found some champagne and they all drank a toast, first to Peggy and Jimmy, then to Susan Winifred Deagan.
‘Will Jimmy move into your house?’ asked Luke.
‘Yes. He’s there most of the time anyway. He has all his meals with us,’ Peggy said. ‘He’ll sell his own house.’
‘It depends which house would get the better price,’ Norah’s husband, Frank, said.
Nobody answered and the conversation went on. It was Frank’s only contribution all day and Anna felt sadly that Mrs Deagan was right. Norah had made a bad mistake in marrying him.
The group soon dispersed, as Mrs Deagan was asleep. She slept for most of the time, until Christmas Day, when she rallied and entertained all the family in her bedroom.
Anna saw her briefly and felt that when she kissed her goodnight it was for the last time. The dying woman held her hand and whispered, ‘You’re a good girl, Anna, and you’ll soon have the happiness you deserve. God’s ways are not ours but He has a plan for all of us. God bless you girl.’
At two o’clock in the morning, as Maggie, as always, watched at her mother’s bedside, she saw a slight change and called the others, and with her family around her Susan Deagan gently slipped from life to death.
Afterwards Maggie collapsed completely but the others made all the arrangements. These were many and complex because, added to the high regard for Mrs Deagan herself, the numerous members of her family were well known and well liked and many people wished to show their respect and sympathy for them in what they knew was a time of grievous loss.
Mrs Furlong spent most of her time at the parlour window, fuming as she watched the numerous callers and the quantity of wreaths being delivered next door. ‘Ridiculous,’ she seethed. ‘There’s more fuss being made than for our dear Queen when she died in 1901.’
Anna had been sitting with her and working on the household mending but she stood up and walked out.
She was more courageous now in dealing with her mother, partly because of her increasing disgust with her and partly because her friendship with James and his support made her feel stronger. She had been to his house again once after a confraternity meeting and once for Sunday tea.
She felt increasingly at home there and comfortable in talking to James. Frances always welcomed her warmly and was delighted to hear of Susan’s grandchild and the happiness she had brought and she was interested to hear of the proposed marriage between Peggy Parsons and Jimmy O’Dowd.
‘Poor Jimmy. He was tricked into that marriage with Olive but he did the honourable thing and wasted half his life on it. Him and Peggy’ll be happy and her old dad’ll be made up to have Jimmy living there. This is what I miss, Anna, now I can’t get out. All the bits of news. I ask James and he tells me what the Archbishop’s been doing! Men!’
Anna was invited to Sunday tea again on the last Sunday in January but her mother objected. ‘No, I need you here,’ she said. ‘I have two friends coming to tea and I need you to hand round cakes and sandwiches and make fresh tea when we need it.’
Before Anna could speak, her Aunt Clara, who was sitting on a sofa reading, raised her head. She never spoke directly to her sister-in-law now and she said calmly to Anna, ‘I should go if I were you, Anna. Your mother is quite capable of handing round a cake basket and Nelly can make fresh tea for them. You should accept the invitation.’
It was ludicrous, Anna thought, to see her mother trying to decide how to react. Whether with hysterics, or the injured little woman with the world against her, or the matriarch demanding obedience, while she was being watched sardonically by Anna and Clara.
Her moment passed and she could only say weakly, ‘Wait until my husband hears of this. My own daughter encouraged to defy me in my own home.’ She stood up and marched out, pausing in the hall to demand tea and aspirins from Nelly, and went upstairs.
Clara said abruptly, ‘I don’t know where you go, Anna, and I don’t want to know but if you have a chance of happiness, take it. Don’t let your mother spoil it. You’ve never asked me why I don’t speak to her but I’ll tell you. I was friendly with a widower and he asked me to marry him. I was undecided. I was set in my ways, I thought, and so was he, but then we would be company for each other in our old age.’
Anna said nothing and Clara sat looking into the fire. ‘He had a very jealous married daughter. He said nothing to her and I said nothing here until we decided but one of your mother’s gossips ferreted it out. Your mother took it on herself to go and see the daughter and cause trouble. I might not have married him anyway, Anna, but it was our decision, nothing to
do with your mother. Don’t let her do the same thing to you.’
‘I’m so sorry, Aunt Clara,’Anna stammered.
Clara shrugged. ‘These things happen,’ she said, then in the same unemotional tone, ‘but hell will freeze over before I speak to her again.’ Then she too left the room.
There were many things Anna would have liked to ask her aunt but she had a lot to think about with what she had already been told. What an evil woman her mother was. Anna wondered whether she had inherited any of her mother’s traits and decided to ask Dr O’Brien about heredity. This reminded her that she had been remiss lately in visiting the O’Briens, although she still saw them at church.
The last time she had seen Dr O’Brien he said heartily, ‘I’m glad to see that you and young Hargreaves are friendly, Anna. He doesn’t find it easy to mix.’
‘Neither do I, doctor,’ Anna said ruefully, ‘although I didn’t realise it while Dorrie and Isabel were there to break the ice for me.’
‘Aye, well, we’re all different,’ the doctor said vaguely, before darting off to scold a woman whom he had told to stay in bed.
I wonder if anyone else has noticed? Anna thought now. She had written to Dorrie to tell her all the news about the Deagans and about Peggy Parsons’ wedding but she had never mentioned James or her visits to his house.
Dorrie seemed to have settled down and been very popular at the Christmas festivities and she said nothing about any gossip about Eugene. She did, however, enclose a newspaper cutting which read
‘Mr Robert Norton Carpenter MP has been enjoying the sunshine of Saint Tropez with his companion, Mr Eugene D’Arcy, formerly of the Brigade of Guards. Mr Norton Carpenter has resigned his seat.’
Anna was alone when she opened the letter and simply threw the cutting in the fire and said nothing about it when she replied to her sister.
Anna said no more to her mother about her invitation but set off on Sunday the twenty-seventh of January. It was bitterly cold and wet and she was glad to see James waiting at the corner of Westbourne Street with a large umbrella. They fought their way up Eastbourne Street in the teeth of a gale and fell thankfully into the warmth and peace of James’s house.