Comfort Me With Apples

by Comfort Me

  ‘She’ll suit you, Anna, a nice quiet girl. She’s from the west of Ireland, County Mayo, and she’s been working as an undercook in Powerscourt, the big demesne in Wicklow. She was coming over to marry a blacksmith but he was killed by a kick from a horse before she arrived.’

  ‘Poor girl. What a shock!’ Anna exclaimed.

  ‘She’s staying with friends in Soho Street but I’ll send her up to see you, if you like,’ the doctor said. ‘Her name’s Julia O’Boyle.’

  Two days later Anna saw the girl hovering timidly by the gate and brought her into the kitchen. At first glance she looked more Spanish than Irish, with straight jet-black hair, brown eyes and an olive complexion, but she explained in her soft brogue that Spanish sailors who were washed ashore after the Armada was wrecked settled in Mayo and married Irish girls.

  ‘But that was in fifteen hundred and something,’ Anna said and Julia said softly, ‘Was it so?’

  Anna liked her immediately and Julia settled in quickly. Her cooking was a revelation to Anna. ‘The potatoes are like balls of flour and whatever the meat it just melts in the mouth,’ she told Mrs O’Brien. ‘She’s shown me what to do but it never turns out the same. I think it’s a gift you’re born with.’

  Julia was gentle and deferential with Frances, addressing her as Miss O’Neill and offering to rub embrocation into her limbs.

  ‘No thanks, girl,’ Frances said, ‘but you can do something else for me.’ She showed her the black bottle Rosa had brought and the bag of medicine bottles. ‘Will you fill these outa the black bottle? They’re handier to keep by me. Mrs Hargreaves knows about them but I don’t let on to the doctor or Mr James. Least said soonest mended, eh?’

  ‘Indeed,’ Julia said, and filled the bottles neatly and without further comment. After that Frances regarded her as a friend and everything went smoothly in Rosemount.

  Anna and James invited her mother and aunt to see the new house but Mrs Furlong said it would be too much for her. Clara, however, accepted and Anna’s only worry was how to explain her sleeping arrangements.

  She told James she wondered what Clara would make of the separate bedrooms and he said, ‘Need she know? If the bedroom doors are closed you can just wave at them and say that these are bedrooms, then show her the bathroom.’

  Anna looked at him with respect. ‘Why didn’t I think of that?’ she wondered.

  ‘Because you were too close to the problem,’ he said promptly and they laughed together.

  Every night they kissed goodnight on the landing and went into their separate rooms without any self-consciousness but Anna had worried about visitors’ opinions of their arrangement. Now she knew what to do.

  There had been a constant stream of visitors since they moved in. Norah Sutton, née Deagan, who advised Anna about plants for her garden, other members of the Deagan family, although Kate had left for London, the O’Briens, and school friends of Anna’s with whom she had lost touch. Frances also had her friends to visit her in her room.

  The most eagerly awaited friend came when Isabel arrived for her long-promised visit. She was delighted to see Anna so happy and living in such a lovely house and was greatly impressed by the change in James. Although she’d seen him briefly at the wedding, she remembered him chiefly as a plump, stolid young man, dominated by his mother.

  ‘I wouldn’t have known him,’ she said frankly. ‘He’s really smart and handsome. And so confident and easy to talk to.’

  ‘I think he began to look better soon after his mother died,’ Anna said. ‘More healthy, because he had better food and did a lot of walking and bicycling. I’m glad you think he’s more confident. That old witch nearly destroyed him.’

  As Isabel knew so much about Eugene, and Anna’s feelings for him, she had told her about James’s proposal. ‘I had my romantic notions about Eugene and James had his about Dorrie,’ she said lightly, ‘but we knew they were impossible and we decided that as we’d got the romantic stuff out of the way and we were good friends it was a good basis for marriage.’ Isabel agreed rather doubtfully and said that when Anna had described the proposal she liked the bit where James had poured sherry and spoken about plighting their troth. ‘Shows he has a sense of humour,’ she said. ‘I think there’s a lively man under that quiet exterior.’

  ‘We often have a laugh together,’ Anna said defensively and Isabel said soothingly, ‘I’m sure you do.’

  She asked about Dorrie and Anna told her that she had only seen her once, briefly, since her wedding. ‘She and Michael came for five days,’ she said. ‘We went to see them but we were going on to a concert and we invited them here but they made an excuse. She’s changed, Isabel.’

  ‘Your aunt said that,’ Isabel said. ‘She said her letters were full of complaints about Michael. Whatever went wrong with that fairy tale love affair?’

  ‘Michael is still as much in love with her,’ Anna said. ‘He’s made sacrifices for her. Left the army which he loved to get her away from bad influences. I’m not so sure about Dorrie.’

  ‘To love anyone is to want what’s best for them, even if it’s not for you,’ Isabel said shrewdly. ‘She doesn’t seem concerned about his happiness, does she? Your aunt told me he’s working hard to set up in business but Dorrie won’t settle and join anything in the parish. Just sits at home crying because he has to be out a lot.’

  ‘I can’t understand how she can have changed so much,’ Anna said, looking troubled. ‘She was so sweet-natured when she was at home.’

  ‘Yes, but everything was going her way then, wasn’t it?’ Isabel said. ‘She thinks that should last forever but it doesn’t for anyone. She’ll get over it.’ They were in the garden and she began to ask about the plants and talk about her own garden and about her brothers and baby sister.

  ‘My uncles are so good to us,’ she told Anna. ‘It seems strange to see Mama being treated like an indulged baby sister but it’s what she needs now. It has suddenly hit her that Papa won’t ever be coming home. At first it seemed as though he was just at sea.’ She wiped away a tear. ‘Mama’s been very brave, though, and we all love the life in the country.’

  She also told Anna shyly that there was a new headmaster at the village school and they had become friends. ‘His name’s John Holland and he’s a really good teacher,’ she said. ‘Our boys think he’s wonderful.’

  ‘And so do you,’ Anna teased her.

  Isabel blushed. ‘He’s had a hard job pulling the school round but he’s doing it so well,’ she said. ‘The previous headmaster took to the bottle after his wife died. Everyone was sorry for him but he got worse and worse and the children, especially the big boys, were right out of control but John’s made them respect him.’

  Anna thoroughly enjoyed Isabel’s visit and was sorry when it was over, but she was happy to know that the family had recovered from their loss and were leading such a contented life in the country, with the prospect of a happy future for Isabel and the headmaster.

  She had always confided in her friend, especially since Dorrie’s marriage, and she had enjoyed discussions with her but there were things she could not say even to Isabel.

  She could discuss Dorrie’s marital problems but not her feelings towards her or James. On their one brief meeting Anna had missed nothing of what happened, of Dorrie’s flirtatious glance at James, or his stiff reaction to it. She felt that it was for Michael’s benefit more than James’s, although Michael had ignored it, but what had James really thought? Had he seen her sneering glance as they left?

  She and James had not discussed her sister’s brief visit, either immediately afterwards or since. They had discussed the concert that followed it and James had told her that he knew nothing of music but had enjoyed it and would like to hear others. ‘Another way you have improved my life, Anna,’ he had joked.

  They talked about his colleagues and his work in the office, items in the newspaper or local gossip, but Dorrie was never mentioned. Even if she was spoken of by other people the
y never discussed it as they discussed other parts of the conversation as they walked home.

  On the last evening of Isabel’s visit the two girls sat in the garden. It had been a mild and sunny day, without any nip of autumn in the air, and a full moon made the garden almost as bright as day. The scent from night-scented stock and tobacco plants filled the air and Isabel leaned back on the seat and said dreamily, ‘On such a night.’

  ‘It’s beautiful, isn’t it?’ Anna said as softly.

  Isabel sighed. ‘A night for love,’ she said and smiled. ‘I have immortal longings in me.’

  ‘For John?’ Anna murmured and Isabel looked at her and smiled, then whispered, ‘Yes.’ She longed to ask Anna who she was thinking of but she said nothing and they sat in silence for a while, busy with their own thoughts. Anna was trying to recall details of Eugene’s face and recapture the feelings of love and longing for him that the memories of their happy times together could evoke, but she was dismayed to find that even the scented beauty of the night could not arouse these feelings.

  Instead, she thought of James, who had gone to the front garden to leave her and Isabel to talk. Was he affected by the beauty of the night? she wondered. Was he suffering, thinking of Dorrie, so beloved and so unattainable? She felt pain herself at the thought.

  As though on cue, Isabel stirred and turned to her. ‘Do you ever think, Anna, that you and James were a bit hasty? I know you’re happy but – but weren’t you both a bit young to put love so firmly behind you? You know, on a night like this…’

  ‘No, but I see what you mean,’ Anna said. ‘I can only say I enjoy a night like this but it doesn’t arouse longings in me, immortal or otherwise.’

  They both laughed and Isabel said, ‘I had a cheek to ask. It’s just that I care about you, Anna, and I want so much for you to be happy.’

  Anna moved along the bench and kissed her friend. ‘That’s exactly how I feel about you,’ she said, ‘and I’m quite sure you are going to have a truly happy life. You deserve it.’

  They heard footsteps on gravel, then James came across the grass to them. ‘Julia has some supper ready,’ he said. ‘What a lovely night! I suppose you countrywomen call this a harvest moon, Isabel?’

  ‘I’m not the complete countrywoman yet,’ Isabel laughed. ‘Although I do love living there.’

  ‘I think your knowledge of Shakespeare might come in more useful,’ Anna teased her as they went into the house. ‘Isabel has been quoting Shakespeare,’ she said to James.

  ‘I’ll have to introduce you to Henry Mortimer from the office,’ James said. ‘He’s always quoting poetry, especially Shakespeare. I’ve had to begin reading it so that I don’t look a complete ignoramus.’

  ‘But do you enjoy it?’ Isabel said.

  ‘I do, and Anna does too, don’t you? We’re discovering books we want to read, getting to know all the second-hand bookshops,’ he said, smiling at Anna.

  ‘Yes, Mama didn’t like me to read,’ she said simply. ‘It’s lovely to be able to buy books and read whenever I want to.’

  James felt a surge of anger against her mother and said to Isabel, ‘Anna’s introduced me to music too and I enjoy that. Another dimension to my life.’

  ‘You’ve broadened my mind too,’ Anna said. ‘I know a lot more about politics now.’

  When the two girls said goodnight Isabel whispered, ‘I take back what I said about the romance, Anna. You’ve got a perfect marriage, perfect. You’re so good for each other.’

  ‘I think so. I’m glad you do,’ Anna said.

  Isabel hugged her. ‘Think back,’ she said. ‘Could either of you have spoken as you did tonight before you were married? James especially. It took courage to say what he did and you’ve given him that. You’ve given each other confidence because you really care for each other.’

  ‘We wouldn’t have married each other if we didn’t,’ Anna said. ‘We said from the start we felt respect and affection for each other.’

  Isabel smiled. ‘I know,’ she said, ‘but I think it’s much more than that now,’ and she kissed Anna warmly before going into her own bedroom.

  Chapter Twenty

  Captain Furlong was due to arrive home shortly after Isabel left and Dorrie and Michael were coming to Liverpool at some point while her father was home. Anna dreaded the meeting, although she reflected that Dorrie would have to behave herself while under her father’s eye.

  James had mixed feelings about seeing Dorrie again. He had been shaken by her behaviour at their last brief meeting, at the hand languidly extended, obviously meant to be kissed, and the flirtatious glance she had given him.

  He was too aware of his own shortcomings to believe that it was anything but an attempt to annoy Michael but he worried that Anna might feel humiliated by it.

  Since his marriage his life had been transformed and now he thought humbly that Anna had been so good to him he must be careful that nothing occurred during the visit that might hurt or upset her in any way.

  Captain Furlong arrived home on a Wednesday in late October and Dorrie and Michael were due to come on the following Saturday but instead a telegram arrived stating that the visit must be postponed and a letter would follow.

  The letter, when it came, was from Michael and he told them that Dorrie was ill and unable to travel.

  ‘The doctor says she has suffered a miscarriage, which was a great shock to me. It was very early days and Dorrie had said nothing to me until she was sure. She is being very brave but it is a great disappointment. The doctor says we are young yet and please God things will go better next time. I will make sure I spend more time with her and the worst is over now with the setting up of the business.’

  He had written a similar letter to his aunt and uncle but it was received with less sympathy by Dr O’Brien. ‘She hadn’t told her husband!’ he said. ‘Why not? Did she hope she wouldn’t need to?’

  ‘What do you mean, Paddy?’ asked Mrs O’Brien.

  ‘I mean I think that girl’s been well-tutored by someone,’ he said grimly. ‘I’d like to have a word with the doctor who attended her.’

  Mrs O’Brien looked alarmed. ‘Don’t be reading too much into her not telling him,’ she said. ‘He says himself it was early days and you know what she is for romantic notions. She might have been wanting to set the scene, a candlelit dinner or something.’

  So the doctor said no more and Mrs O’Brien sent a lacy bedjacket and a sympathetic letter to Dorrie and Michael.

  Anna was unsure how she felt when she heard the news. There was a sense of reprieve but then she thought that she wanted to meet Dorrie again while her father was at home. The nature of her illness was a shock too and she wondered how James would feel about Dorrie as a mother.

  James himself was also ambivalent about his feelings. In one way he longed to see Dorrie and in another he dreaded it, so he was not sure whether or not he was disappointed. As usual he and Anna said nothing directly about Dorrie or her illness. They had been told about the letter when visiting her parents.

  The following day, when James had returned from the office and they were eating dinner, Anna said suddenly, ‘Father and Mama and Aunt Clara are very disappointed after all the preparations for the visit. What do you think of asking them here for a meal to cheer them up?’

  James was taken aback for a moment, then he said, ‘Yes, of course. That’s a good idea. Let them taste Julia’s cooking. When?’

  ‘I hadn’t really thought,’ Anna said.

  They discussed the idea more fully later when they sat in the garden and decided to make it the traditional Sunday midday roast dinner and to ask Dr and Mrs O’Brien and a doctor friend who was staying with them.

  ‘Did you want to ask anyone else? Henry Mortimer perhaps?’ Anna said but James shook his head.

  ‘Six people. I think that’s enough for our first attempt, don’t you?’ he said and Anna agreed.

  ‘It won’t matter with them if anything goes wrong,’ she said. They were
both secretly nervous and each wondered if their new confidence would stand the strain.

  Frances and Julia were delighted with the prospect of the dinner party and plans were made for a conventional dinner of soup, roast beef for the main course, followed by Julia’s speciality, charlotte russe.

  ‘I don’t want to seem to be showing off,’ Anna said but she knew that any food cooked by Julia would be superlative.

  Frances told them the tale of the overlarge joint of beef she had bought to show off before her sister-in-law and James’s remedy for it.

  ‘I was that upset when I seen the size of it when it was delivered. I knew the two of us would never eat it before it went off but he was that good. Told me I was daft to get upset over a bit of meat and I could easily give away what we couldn’t eat. Me niece’s family were very near starving and they made good use of it, I can tell you, but how many men would have taken it like that? He’s one in a million.’

  ‘Ah, he’s a grand man altogether,’ Julia said and Anna felt a glow of pride in James.

  Julia came with her to the butcher’s to choose the beef for the dinner party. The shop was full but the butcher himself came to serve Anna. She told him what she wanted and said firmly, ‘I need enough for ten people and I don’t want to stint.’

  ‘Ten people?’ Julia queried when the butcher went away.

  ‘Yes. Six guests, my husband and I and you and Frances,’ Anna said. She had noticed a sharp-featured woman edging through the crowd of customers to be near them and was sure that she was the sister-in-law who had been so unkind to Frances.

  They chose a massive sirloin and Julia whispered, ‘That’s grand. The meat and the fat are just the right colour. It’ll cook beautiful, sure it will.’

  ‘The very best, Mrs Hargreaves,’ the butcher said.

  Anna had seen the sharp-featured woman staring with round eyes at the magnificent sirloin and as she was close enough to eavesdrop Anna said, ‘We had our instructions from Miss O’Neill, didn’t we, Julia? I warn you, she’ll be scrutinising the meat when it’s delivered.’