by Comfort Me
Soon after Julia had arrived at Rosemount Frances had said to her, ‘Mr and Mrs Hargreaves have separate bedrooms but I don’t want it talked about to anyone.’
‘Sure there’s nothing strange in that,’ Julia said. ‘A lot of the quality who came to stay had separate bedrooms or the gentlemen had beds in their dressing room for when it suited.’
‘There’s some who’d like to know about it, but it’s not their business or ours, so don’t forget, Julia, no talk.’
‘Indeed, and why would I?’ Julia said calmly. ‘As you say, it’s their business entirely, Miss O’Neill.’
The weeks before Christmas seemed to fly past. Julia had made several Christmas puddings and cakes and all the other cooking preparations were well in hand.
Captain Furlong had returned to sea for a brief trip and in London Dorrie had recovered her health, though not her spirits. She had not been pleased by the glowing accounts of the dinner party at Anna and James’s house which her aunt had sent and the O’Briens had written to them as well. Even her mother had said that the food was delicious but she added that James had said that Anna was a good housekeeper, which consoled Dorrie slightly.
Michael and his partner had set up the framework of their business, and with the winter weather work outside was impossible, so he was able to keep his promise to spend more time with Dorrie. She found this was a mixed blessing. She had been used to having a day in town when Michael was safely tied up with business, when she could meet Mrs Rafferty and spend some happy hours gossiping and being advised by her friend. She also relied on seeing Mrs Rafferty so she could receive supplies unobtainable elsewhere.
Dorrie was still determined to delay any pregnancy and Mrs Rafferty not only helped her with this but also supplied her with some evil smelling liquid to take if the preventative methods failed. It’s only until I’m happier and stronger, Dorrie excused these measures to herself, but she had been alarmed by the result of taking the liquid.
She thought the doctor’s manner had been odd, and worried that he might say something to Michael, but Michael blamed himself for neglecting her and believed her story of waiting to be sure before telling him about the baby.
The doctor told him he should wait three months before resuming marital relations with Dorrie, to allow her to regain her strength before the next pregnancy, and Dorrie was sure that before that time was up she would be able to see Mrs Rafferty again.
Two of the ladies of the parish came to visit her when she was recovering and gave her food for thought. ‘What a shame you’ve been ill practically since you moved into the parish,’ one of them said. ‘We’ve scarcely met you.’
The other one, a middle-aged woman with protruding teeth and a roguish manner, said archly, ‘We all know your husband. Such a handsome man. All the girls thought he was single and fell in love with him.’
‘And were disappointed to find my illness wasn’t fatal,’ Dorrie said angrily.
‘No, no, dear Mrs Farrell,’ the other woman said hastily, ‘Miss Knibbs was only joking,’ but Dorrie’s manner was cool for the rest of the visit.
When they had gone she stood up and looked in the mirror. Her face was pale, with dark shadows beneath her eyes, and her hair, which had not been washed for a while, hung lank and colourless on her shoulders. She wore a dark housedress, too large now for her thin body.
She sat down again and wept with self-pity, as she pictured Michael as he looked when he left that morning. He had lost the devil-may-care attitude of the early days and wore a navy suit instead of the uniform, but as that fool had said, he was still a handsome man. She pictured the girls in church eyeing him, perhaps welcoming him to the parish. As one of the army wives had said, he could charm the birds off the trees. And he’s mine, she thought savagely.
With sudden decision, she jumped to her feet and went to wash her hair, then, as she sat before the fire brushing it dry, she made her plans.
When she had coiled her hair, already looking brighter and curlier, and changed her dress she went to the kitchen. Since she had been ill, a daily woman had taken care of the cooking and shopping and she usually left when Michael came home and he took over the serving of the meal and the care of Dorrie. Now Dorrie said brightly, ‘You can go now if you like, Mrs Burns, and I’ll see to things. I’m feeling better today.’
‘You look better, thank God,’ Mrs Burns said. ‘There’s a hotpot in the oven and I’ve made an apple pie.’
When Michael came in he was surprised and delighted to see Dorrie in the kitchen and to find that she intended to join him at the table for the meal.
‘You look wonderful,’ he said, gazing at her adoringly, and she thought briefly of the toothy Miss Knibbs. Aloud she said, ‘I’ve just realised it will soon be Christmas and we’ll be travelling to Liverpool. There’ll be all sorts of preparations going on there for our visit. I must get really well, because Father will be home too.’
‘You must try to eat more,’ Michael said anxiously. ‘We must build you up.’
‘Yes. I’m nearly as skinny as Anna,’ Dorrie sighed.
‘I wouldn’t call Anna skinny,’ Michael protested. ‘She’s just not as nicely rounded as you were.’
Dorrie laughed. ‘She’s certainly not what Mama would call “a fine figure of a woman”,’ she said, ‘but on that subject, Michael, all my clothes are too big for me now.’
‘Then get new ones, alannah,’ he said fondly. ‘The money is there and I want your family to see that I’m looking after you.’
On the following Sunday Dorrie, wearing a blue serge suit with a three-quarter-length coat and a large blue hat, was proudly escorted to church by Michael. She had written to tell her mother that she was quite recovered and would be home for Christmas.
Unless the crossing was too rough, she and Michael would spend some time with his family in Ireland and stay in Liverpool overnight on their way back. It appeared she intended to be a model wife from now on.
Chapter Twenty-One
On the pretext of shopping for clothes for the Christmas visit, Dorrie managed to see Mrs Rafferty again one day. They met in a secluded corner of a small cafe and Dorrie poured out all the details of her miscarriage. ‘The pain was terrible,’ she said. ‘I thought I was going to die.’
‘You must have took too much,’ the older woman said, ‘but never mind, it done the trick and you’ll know better next time.’
‘I’m all right for a few weeks,’ Dorrie said. ‘The doctor told Michael to wait for three months until I’m stronger.’
‘And will he?’ Mrs Rafferty said cynically but Dorrie looked surprised. ‘Of course,’ she said. ‘He’s very good. Can’t do enough for me because he thinks it’s because he left me alone so much.’
‘And so he should,’ Mrs Rafferty said. ‘Snatching you away from all your friends and dumping you in the middle of nowhere without a by-your-leave.’ She saw that her remarks were not well received and added swiftly, ‘And Liverpool? What’s happening there?’
Dorrie, easily diverted, launched into a tale of the dinner party and James’s lovely house and wonderful cook and Anna’s gardening. ‘There was a London doctor there who praised everything, my aunt said in her letter.’
‘So your sister’s fell on her feet,’ said Mrs Rafferty. ‘Everything going right for her and wrong for you and it’s all her fault. If she hadn’t covered up for that pervert, pretending he was courting her, he’d have been found out long ago and your poor husband wouldn’t have been driven to leave the army.’
Dorrie looked at her, round-eyed. ‘I never thought of that,’ she said, ‘but Mrs Rafferty, she did believe him, I’m sure. We used to think he was slow to propose because he’d had a sad love affair.’
‘You thought that, and she pretended to, but I’ll bet she knew the real reason. Her woman’s instinct would have told her but she liked people to think she was courting. She’s crafty. She seems to have finished up better off than you but she’s only a housekeeper. That feller marri
ed her to save talk but it’s you he’s in love with, isn’t it?’
Dorrie smiled complacently. ‘Yes, I’d only have to crook my little finger,’ she said. ‘And she is only a housekeeper. He said that to Father, that she was a good housekeeper. Mama said they don’t sleep together. They had separate bedrooms in the first house and they probably do in this. She said Anna’s got that look anyway, untouched, Mama said.’
They giggled together, then Mrs Rafferty said thoughtfully, ‘That’s worth knowing. If they haven’t slept together the marriage hasn’t been consummated and can be annulled. He’d be free to marry again, legally and by the rules of the Catholic Church. That’s a shot to keep in your locker, ducky.’
‘Oh, I do miss you, Mrs Rafferty,’ Dorrie cried, leaning close across the table. ‘You know so much and you can always advise me. D’you know…’ She hesitated, then rushed on. ‘We were having a row and Michael said he left the army to get me away from you. He must have been jealous of you.’
‘I know, but he didn’t manage it, did he?’ Mrs Rafferty said triumphantly. ‘We still see each other.’
Shortly afterwards they parted, Dorrie saying that she would be in touch after Christmas, then leaving the cafe first.
Mrs Rafferty lingered for another cup of tea in case they were seen together, then left, well satisfied with the seeds she had planted in Dorrie’s mind.
Dorrie brooded on the remarks and by Christmas almost hated her sister and blamed her for all her misfortunes.
Captain Furlong arrived home ten days before Christmas and came to visit Anna and James. While James worked in the garden, Anna and her father were left alone in the drawing room. He seemed ill at ease, clasping his hands between his knees and staring down at his boots. ‘What do you think of your mother’s health now, Annabel?’ he finally said abruptly.
‘I think she’s quite recovered, Father,’ Anna said. ‘Of course, we only visit once a week but she seems quite well. Perhaps we should go more often but we’ve been so busy with the house.’
Her father shook his head. ‘No. I think it’s magnanimous of you to go at all. I’ve been hearing more of what you had to bear but you do understand, Annabel, it was the illness which made your mother behave in that way.’
‘Of course, Father,’ she said gently, ‘but as Mrs O’Brien would say, it’s all water under the bridge now and Mama’s well again.’
‘You’re a good girl,’ he said gruffly, patting her hand. ‘I’m very happy to see you so well-settled and with such a good husband. I wish Dorothea was as happy. Mama has shown me some of her letters and she seems to be finding it hard to settle into civilian life. I would have expected her husband to be the one to find it difficult.’
‘She doesn’t like change but I think she’s settled down now,’ Anna said soothingly. ‘Would you like to see the sewing table we’ve bought Mama for Christmas?’ They went to look at it and the subject of Dorrie was forgotten.
Captain Furlong enjoyed walking, after spending so much time aboard ship, but the distance to Anna’s house was too great for his wife and sister and they were busy with Christmas preparations so he came alone several times. Anna felt that she drew much closer to her father and understood him better after these visits.
Christmas Day fell on Wednesday and Dorrie and Michael arrived on the previous Saturday. The family were shocked by Dorrie’s fragility and her mother even vacated her sofa so that Dorrie could rest there. ‘You’re so thin,’ she wailed, ‘and so pale, my darling. What has been happening to you?’ She looked reproachfully at Michael and he shuffled his feet and looked uncomfortable. Dorrie enjoyed the fuss and even Clara joined in the cosseting.
‘Anna and James will come to see you this evening,’ Aunt Clara said. ‘So that you have time to recover from the journey and have your meal.’
Dorrie made no response until she realised that her father was looking at her, then she smiled and said faintly, ‘That’ll be nice.’
After the evening meal Mrs Furlong resumed her place on the sofa near to the fire and Dorrie and Michael sat together on another sofa. When Anna and James arrived Michael, who was nearest to the door, jumped to his feet and hugged Anna, then kissed her cheek. ‘Lovely to see you, alannah,’ he said, anxious to heal the coolness between her and Dorrie.
Dorrie had also risen to her feet. James held out his hand but she put her arms around him and reached up to kiss his cheek, although she managed to press her lips to his ear. Only Anna saw this but she moved on to greet Dorrie while James, looking bemused, was shaking hands with Michael.
Dorrie offered her cheek to Anna but she only touched it with her lips before turning to Clara, who was offering to take her coat. In the general bustle, as Anna’s father was arranging chairs near the fire for the newcomers, James was able to recover from the shock of Dorrie’s kiss.
Captain Furlong announced that he had asked Dr and Mrs O’Brien to call in and they arrived a little later.
Dorrie was the centre of attention and responded by being the bright and sparkling girl they all remembered. She teased Anna about her wonderful cook and her gardening skills, which she had heard about in every letter, and Anna slipped easily into her role of quiet foil for Dorrie.
‘Dr O’Brien should take credit for Julia,’ she said. ‘He sent her to me.’
‘Yes, and I’ve had many a good meal at your house in gratitude,’ he said, ‘because Julia’s glad to be there.’
‘She’s a good girl as well as a good cook,’ James said. ‘She’s very good to Frances.’
‘Frances who was your housekeeper? Is she still with you?’ Dorrie exclaimed.
‘Of course,’ Anna said.
Dorrie was tempted to make an artless remark about James looking after Anna as well if she was unable to work, but with Dr O’Brien and her father both looking at her she said instead, ‘I thought she might have gone to her family.’
‘No. We’re her family. She did so much for James and she’s still a great help to us,’ said Anna.
At a quiet moment Dr O’Brien sat down by Dorrie and began to ask searching questions about her illness. She looked to Michael to rescue her but he was deep in conversation about his business with James. Then help came in another way.
Nelly came into the room, saying, ‘I’m sorry, doctor, there’s a lad here for you. A man in Aber Street got his arm crushed at work. He made it home but he’s outa his mind with pain, the lad said.’ She pulled a note from her apron pocket. ‘Your Mary give him this at the surgery.’
Dr O’Brien read it rapidly, then said to Mrs Furlong, ‘I’m sorry. I must go. Lucky I’ve got my bag with me.’
‘We’d need a surgical operation to part you from it,’ his wife said tartly, but she came into the hall with him to see him warmly wrapped up before he said a general goodbye and left.
The boy was standing by the kitchen fire, drinking a cup of cocoa. ‘Finish it, finish it, lad,’ the doctor said, before hustling out with him to Aber Street.
Dorrie was relieved to see him go and told Michael so. ‘I was glad he was called away,’ she said. ‘He was asking all sorts of questions about my illness. How do I know? I was too ill to know what was happening.’
‘He’s just concerned about you,’ Michael soothed her, but she was annoyed that he had not been alert to her distress signals and looked about for James. He was deep in conversation with Captain Furlong, but glanced over when he felt her eyes on him then looked away quickly, but Dorrie was satisfied.
The evening broke up early as everyone was concerned about Dorrie’s health. Captain Furlong escorted Mrs O’Brien home and Anna and James left at the same time.
Dorrie’s father took the opportunity to confide in Mrs O’Brien, sharing his worries concerning his younger daughter. ‘She was such a happy child but she seems so changed since her marriage,’ he said.
‘She’s a good girl but she’s easily led,’ Mrs O’Brien said. ‘She was all right while she was with Anna, influenced by her. When she went t
o London I think she had romantic notions of a glittering social life, which she might have had if Michael had been an officer, but it’s different for other ranks in the army.’
‘We thought she had settled down well at first,’ her father said. ‘But Michael tells me that she became too friendly with a bad type of woman, who influenced her.’
Mrs O’Brien waited for him to say more but she realised that Michael had been deliberately vague to Dorrie’s father. He had evidently not told him that he had been called before his Commanding Officer and told to control his wife, who was causing trouble by flirting with married men and upsetting their wives. Michael had blamed Mrs Rafferty’s influence for this too.
She said consolingly, ‘Things will be better now. She is away from that woman and Michael’s business is going to be a great success, so they’ll be able to have a wonderful life. Dorrie is the same good girl she always was,’ and by the time he left her Captain Furlong felt a much happier man.
James called a cab for the journey back to Rosemount and as they were both tired they went to bed soon after they arrived home. There was little discussion about the evening but Dorrie’s greeting to James filled both their minds. Anna tried to convince herself that Dorrie was simply copying Michael’s greeting for her but she knew that it was quite different.
James had been shaken by the loverlike embrace and the kiss pressed against his ear, but, like her behaviour to him on her last visit to Liverpool, he saw them as being for Michael’s benefit. Either to match his greeting for Anna or to inspire jealousy in him.
He was as much shaken by his own response. Not delight, as he would have expected, but embarrassment and fear that Anna might have seen what happened and been humiliated.
It had been arranged that Anna’s parents, Aunt Clara and Dorrie and Michael would come to Rosemount for Christmas dinner and spend Christmas Day there and Anna and James would spend Boxing Day, or St Stephen’s Day as Dr O’Brien called it, with the family in Westbourne Street. The following day Dorrie and Michael would sail for Ireland.