For My Brother’s Sins

by For My Brother's Sins (retail) (epub)

  ‘Very nice, dear,’ understated her mother. ‘Very nice indeed. I always said that one day you would find your true position and I was correct, was I not? Of course,’ she sniffed disparagingly, ‘I also knew that whatever good fortune befell you would be of your own making and not of your husband’s.’ Hannah Fenton had always despised Patrick. She felt her daughter had married beneath her and fifteen years of familiarity with the man had not changed her opinion. Neither had her advancing years brought any sweetening of character. ‘It is as well, dear, that one of you at least had some sort of social connection. I had visions of you ending your days in that terrible little house.’

  Thomasin laughed. ‘I’d hardly call Mr Penny a social connection, Mother. He was a grumpy old bugger at times.’

  ‘Really, Thomasin dear,’ reproved her mother, limping about the hall – she suffered greatly with rheumatics nowadays. ‘You will have to moderate your deplorable language if you are to move into wider circles. It is all very well being liberally-minded when one is living among people of a lower bearing than oneself, but I imagine that your new neighbours will take great exception to such gutter language.’

  ‘Blimey, don’t start on about the neighbours already,’ sighed Thomasin. Despite much leg-pulling her mother still retained that superior air. ‘Giz yer hat an’ let’s have a nosey round t’old place.’

  ‘It stinks,’ provided Dickie as Thomasin led the way.

  ‘By, yer can always rely on kids to put the dampers on things, can’t yer?’ answered his mother. ‘It’s only fusty ’cause it’s been shut up for a while – like you ought to be.’

  ‘He must’ve been old,’ speculated Sonny. ‘Old people’s houses always smell.’ He lowered his eyes on incurring a vitriolic glare from his grandmother.

  ‘If yer tryin’ to put me off yer goin’ the right way about it,’ complained Thomasin. ‘Any more an’ I’m gonna chuck the lotta yer out. Ooh, Lord look at this!’ She swept, sparkling-eyed, into the front parlour. ‘He’s got a pinanna.’

  ‘Reet, let’s ’ave kettle on an’ mek a bloody do of it!’ bawled William, rubbing gleeful hands, as rough and ready as his wife was aloof.

  ‘William, language please,’ objected Hannah. ‘And do keep your voice down, none of us are deaf.’

  William leaned towards Patrick. ‘She’s freetened neighbours’ll hear,’ he chuckled. ‘By, have they gorra shock in store for them. They won’t know what’s hit ’em when we move in.’

  ‘I wasn’t aware that I was takin’ in lodgers,’ said Thomasin whimsically.

  ‘Tha knows what I mean, clivver bugger! We will be visitin’ thee, won’t we?’

  ‘That’s debatable,’ said his daughter with a crafty wink at Patrick. ‘I don’t know as I want my new house cluttered up wi’ riff-raff, showin’ me up.’

  ‘Eh, just ’cause tha’s gorra piano there’s no call to get uppity. We’ve enough shirty buggers in t’ouse wi’ tha mother. Anyroad, what about purrin’ that whatsit on?’

  ‘How doest expect me to boil t’kettle when there’s no bloody fire?’ His daughter matched his basic commentary.

  ‘If ye wait a couple o’ minutes longer,’ murmured Patrick, ‘ye’ll be able to boil it on your mother’s head. Will ye look at her face: red as a farmer’s bum.’

  Hannah’s cheeks were suffused with ill-temper at having to listen to this repartee. She had hoped Thomasin’s new status would have reformed her unladylike behaviour, but the last few minutes had doused that expectation.

  ‘I think me father’s right,’ Thomasin was saying now. ‘We oughtta make a do of it, just to warm t’house up a bit; have a bit of a sing-song round t’piano. What d’yer say, Pat?’

  ‘I second the motion. Will I go out an’ fetch us a couple o’ bottles?’

  ‘Why not?’ Thomasin ignored her mother’s disfavour. ‘Me father can help yer carry ’em.’

  ‘O’ course, ye’ll be wanting a proper housewarming later on,’ said Patrick. ‘With all our pals.’

  ‘Oh, please!’ ejaculated Hannah, wringing her hands. ‘Not that dreadful Mrs Flaherty.’

  Patrick set his mouth and waited for Thomasin’s usual retort of: ‘Oh, don’t be such a bloody snob, Mother!’ But oddly, and much to his disquiet, it did not come. ‘Ye’ll surely not be forgetting Molly an’ the rest just ’cause ye’ve come into a bit o’ money, Tommy?’ he prompted.

  There was the briefest delay, then she answered airily, ‘Whatever made yer think that? Naturally they’ll all come. But just let’s get settled in before yer start inviting ’em round, I’ll have enough to do without parties.’ – The longer we wait, hoped Thomasin with a vague sense of betrayal, maybe he’ll forget the idea. Molly was a good sort and Thomasin did pity her circumstances but the mind came up with all sorts of visions at what impression the Irishwoman would create in this select neighbourhood.

  It was going to be hard enough being accepted here without Molly. Best if she and Patrick visited their old friend instead of the other way round.

  – Perhaps she is learning after all, smiled Hannah to herself, then said aloud, ‘Are we to be allowed to finish our tour of the house before the men indulge themselves?’

  ‘Aye, away then,’ said Thomasin. ‘Let’s see what’s hidden away upstairs.’ She caught her father’s expression. ‘The ale won’t run dry in five minutes, yer know. That’s all it’ll take us to inspect t’bedrooms. After all, that is what we’re ’ere to do, not test quality o’ t’local brew.’ She led the way up the blue-carpeted stairway and stopped at the first landing, off which there were two bedrooms. Craning her neck around the door of the room to her right she uttered a moan of disappointment. ‘S’empty,’ she explained to those behind her and opened the door wider for them to see. ‘Fair-sized rooms though, aren’t they?’

  While her family was still commenting on the spaciousness of the empty room, Thomasin investigated the other and her wondrous cry brought them all rushing to crowd into the doorway at her shoulder. ‘Well, the old bugger!’ she exclaimed, then laughed delightedly as she pounced upon the splendid papier mâché bed. ‘He’s really done himself proud wi’ this lot, hasn’t he? What a bed! I wonder if he ever entertained in it?’

  ‘Thomasin!’ Hannah almost fainted. ‘If I have to listen to any more of your vulgarities I shall leave. If you have no respect for your benefactor do have a care for your poor mother’s sensibilities.’

  Thomasin was undaunted. ‘We-ell, yer not gonna tell me that a man who lives alone is gonna buy a bed like this just to sleep on, are yer? Just look at it.’

  The bed was fitted with an eight-feet high canopy which was fringed with red wool and draped with curtains of deep crimson, these edged with gold cords and tassels. The foot and headboard were shining black papier mâché, embellished with gold-painted flowers and inlaid with mother-of-pearl. The pillow slips, though a mite wrinkled at present, were of best quality linen and edged with thick lace. There was a frilled valance to match the damask coverlet on which Thomasin now lay back contentedly, ankles crossed, hands behind head, and feeling extremely shabby against this plush backdrop.

  ‘Didn’t tha say he died in bed?’ asked William innocently, making her leap up with a curse.

  ‘Don’t do that to me!’ she chastised him, suppressing an involuntary shiver. ‘Yer’ve put me right off now.’ William chuckled. ‘Lig down, soft ’aporth! Look at number o’ folk that’ve snuffed it in my bed before it were handed down to me, an’ I’m still walkin’ around – just. Away, can’t we go an ’ave that ale now?’

  Erin had opened the door of a huge mahogany wardrobe. ‘There’s all his clothes still here, Mam.’

  ‘Let’s have a gander!’ Her grandfather edged her aside. ‘There might be summat that’ll fit me.’ He lifted out a navy-blue frockcoat and held it against himself.

  Erin urged him to try it on and reaching into the bottom of the wardrobe lifted out a pair of boots.

  ‘Nay, lass.’ William waved his hand positively. ‘A
coat’s one thing, but I draw t’line at wearin’ dead men’s boots. I’m gerrin too old to tek risks like that. By, I look a reet toff in this.’ He searched for a hat to cover his bald pate then studied his reflection in the wardrobe mirror. ‘Well, I wouldn’t know meself if I didn’t know it were me.’ He spat on his hands and smoothed down his side-whiskers. ‘Aye, a proper gent.’

  Hannah was examining a japanned box which she had found in a drawer. ‘Why, this is full of jewellery!’ she exclaimed, lifting out a cameo brooch.

  ‘Aye, it’d belong to his late wife.’ Thomasin came to stand beside her. ‘There’s some nice stuff, isn’t there?’ Hannah agreed and held the brooch against the lace at her collar, admiring the effect in the cheval mirror that stood in the corner.

  ‘Yer can have it if yer like,’ said her daughter generously. ‘Erin, perhaps there’s summat you might fancy here.’

  Patrick stared at his family, and was imbued with the picture of the women at the foot of the Cross haggling over Christ’s clothes. There were the three females hunched avariciously over the jewellery casket, his father-in-law preening himself in his new outfit, Sonny opening and shutting drawers as if there were no tomorrow and his elder son bouncing on the bed in a most peculiar fashion. ‘For God’s sake will ye look at yourselves!’ he accused. ‘The poor ould fella’s hardly cold an’ here y’all are rifling through his personal possessions as if it were a free-for-all. Tommy, I thought better of you. After all, he was your friend.’

  His wife spun to face him with a sound of guilt. ‘Eh, yer right! Poor Mr Penny, what would he say if he could see us? I got carried away with it all. Still,’ her mien changed to one of business-like resignation, ‘it’s got to be done sometime, Pat, and he is dead and buried. I can’t really see t’difference whether we do it now or in a month’s time. We’d still be intruding into his private memories.’

  ‘Aye, that’s true,’ allowed Patrick grudgingly. ‘Come on then, are we going to look at the rest o’ the house? Ye’ve plenty of time to go through all that another day.’ He headed the procession up the next flight of stairs where they found two more empty bedchambers, and up yet another flight to the top of the house and two attic rooms, one of which was piled almost to the roof with old books and pictures, furniture and trunks. After the hastiest examination they returned to the ground floor where Thomasin ushered everyone back into the parlour.

  It was decided that the boys should be sent for the refreshments and in their absence Thomasin invited all to be seated while she herself went to check on the contents of Mr Penny’s larder. She reappeared bearing a tray. ‘There’s some fruitcake here. It looks all right; I can’t vouch for its taste though. Some biscuits too.’ Selecting an armchair she seated herself happily, placing the tray on the occasional table beside her. ‘I also found this.’ She indicated a half-filled botde of Madeira. ‘That should be more to your taste than beer, Mother.’

  ‘Well, perhaps just a thimbleful, dear if I may. Will you join me? One really cannot consume ale you know in a house such as this.’ Hannah cast her critical eye over the furnishings. Besides the cottage piano there was a sofa and two armchairs upholstered in striped silky material of green and white. In the opposite corner to the piano was a heavily-carved mahogany bookcase, the contents of which seemed to be providing great interest to Patrick, and a little to its right stood a reading stand, also carved from mahogany. Apart from the occasional table which bore the tray there were two others; on one was a composition of wax fruit and flowers under a glass dome, and on the other, also protected by a glass dome, was a pathetic tableau of stuffed goldfinches. ‘They’re out for a start,’ decreed Thomasin. ‘They give me the creeps.’ The remainder of the pleasant room’s decor was provided by dozens of embroidered cushions, runners, mats, antimacassars and framed samplers, a firescreen painted with a sailing ship and a good many gilt-framed pictures, bedded on gold flocked wallpaper. The carpet’s pattern was a mixture of green and beige, and the curtains were of dark green velvet, with tassels the thickness of a man’s wrist.

  ‘Mr Penny was a widower, you say?’ enquired Hannah of her daughter.

  Thomasin captured her line of thought. ‘I was thinking the same thing: everything seems too neat and orderly, too well-furnished to have belonged to an old widower, doesn’t it? Not to mention clean. Although I expect t’rooms haven’t altered much since his wife died, he probably only used t’back room, an’ he was at work best part o’day, so he’d hardly time to make a mess had he? And happen he could’ve had someone in to clean for him, that’d account for it The only other option is that he had a fancy woman tucked away somewhere, an’ I don’t believe that for one second, otherwise why would I have been the only beneficiary in t’will?’ Mr Ramsworthy had reassured her that the will would stand uncontested. Being well-acquainted with the deceased he would have known had there been anyone of this nature in Mr Penny’s background.

  At this point the boys returned with beer-filled jugs, grumbling at the long walk they had had to the nearest public house. So used were they to Walmgate with its surplus taverns that a walk of more than five yards seemed excessive to them.

  ‘A toast, then,’ put forward William, when his glass had been charged. ‘To Tommy an’ Pat an’ their well-deserved prosperity.’

  ‘Thanks, Dad,’ smiled Thomasin. ‘Everyone. And here’s to your continuing good health too.’ She sipped appreciatively at the Madeira.

  ‘Chuck us one o’ them thingys over will yer, Pat?’ William’s son-in-law passed the plate of biscuits. ‘Ta! Right then, who’s gonna give us first turn?’

  ‘Eh, give us a chance to have our sup first,’ pleaded his daughter. ‘We’ve got all night for fun an’ games.’

  ‘Well, if I’m not gonna get to sing tha can oblige by tellin’ us what tha’s gonna do wi’ all this brass tha’s got comin’ to thee,’ said William through a mouthful of crumbs.

  ‘We haven’t rightly decided yet,’ replied Thomasin, then to her elder son who kept nudging her in the ribs: ‘Will you please stop interrupting while I’m tryin’ to talk! What d’yer want, anyroad?’

  ‘Can I have another piece o’ cake, please?’ asked Dickie.

  ‘Oh, here y’are then, gutsy. Pass the plate round first.’

  ‘Want a bit o’ cake, Grandma?’

  Hannah sighed inwardly. No matter how often she had reminded them that she was not ‘Grandma’ but ‘Grandmama’ or ‘Grandmother’ it seemed to go in one ear and out the other. ‘No thank you, dear,’ she told Dickie. ‘The cake is a trifle heavy for my fragile digestive system.’

  ‘Grandad?’

  William selected a hefty wedge and addressed Thomasin again. ‘Tha must have some sorta notion what tha might like to do. Esta gonna keep shop or sell it, or what?’

  ‘Oh, I shall keep it on,’ said Thomasin decisively. ‘Our Erin’s goin’ to help me run it, it’d be too much on me own, if I want to make a real go of it.’

  ‘That’ll be nice for her,’ said William, prising a cherry from the cake and handing it to his grand-daughter.

  – Will it? Erin took the cherry resentfully. – I notice no one asked for my opinion.

  Hannah had noticed this omission too. ‘And what does Erin have to say to your plan?’

  ‘Oh, it’s a lot better than workin’ in the café, isn’t it?’ said Thomasin before the girl could answer. ‘An’ she’s been a great help to me this past week. I don’t know where I’d’ve been without her. An’ now she won’t need to go lookin’ for another job; she’s got a ready-made one right here.’

  ‘Erin?’ persisted Hannah.

  Erin would have liked to answer that – no, she didn’t like the arrangement at all. But how could she when her stepmother had just said how much she relied on her help? Erin wasn’t the sort to let anyone down. Besides, what was the point in telling them of her true wish? The eight months of education she had received at the Cummings’ household had not provided her with enough experience to call herself a govern
ess, and she was far too old to attend college now. Even if she were not, Father would never countenance wasting money on a girl’s education. Wonderful though Patrick was in many ways he was very narrow-minded in this respect.

  ‘Mam’s right,’ she told her grandmother with no hint of the bitterness she really felt. ‘It seems the obvious thing for me to do; help in the shop. Why hire an assistant when there’s two willing hands at home?’ – And besides, came the resentful thought, for what else would I qualify? But even as she passively accepted her fate she was determined that should she ever be lucky enough to have daughters they would never suffer the same deprivation as herself.

  ‘An’ what about thee, Pat?’ enquired William. ‘What’s this lass o’ mine got lined up for t’maister?’

  ‘Ah, that’s one thing we’re definite on,’ replied Patrick confidently. ‘I’m going to purchase a piece of land an’ grow my own produce.’

  ‘Be a farmer?’ Hannah was aghast. The man had just been presented with enough wealth with which to cultivate a worthy reputation and still he seemed unable to uproot himself from his lowly origins.

  ‘There are such things as gentlemen farmers, Hannah,’ Patrick informed her.

  ‘There are – but I’m sorely afraid you would not number among them,’ said his mother-in-law scathingly. ‘Gentlemen farmers employ labourers to do their work for them. You, I think, will not be happy unless you are grovelling about in the dirt yourself. However,’ she condescended, ‘I am most pleased to hear that my daughter will not be entrusting the maintenance of the store to you.’ Patrick shook his head and chuckled deep in his chest, though more from annoyance than amusement. What did one have to do to earn this woman’s respect?

  ‘There’s method in all this, Mother,’ said Thomasin. ‘After Pat told me that that was what he wanted – a plot o’ land – I got to thinking – why not widen my own horizons by selling not just provisions but greengrocery too? Grow all our own produce so there’s no middle man to worry about. It would all be on a soil-to-shelf basis, and with Pat doing the cultivating there’s no labourer to pay either. Heaven knows there are enough people makin’ money out of us without handin’ it to ’em on a plate. There’re all sorts of possibilities it would open up.’