‘I would’ve thought you might have a bit of sympathy for her, Mother,’ said Sonny, slicing a piece of toast. ‘Having borne two children of your own you must know what she’s going through.’
‘Is she still getting the sickness?’ Thomasin tried to make the concern genuine. ‘She should be over that by now.’
‘Yes, it is rather worrying,’ frowned Sonny. ‘She was all right at first. The sickness came when, by rights, she could have expected it to be over with. I’ve been debating whether to call in the doctor.’
‘I don’t think there’s any need for that,’ assuaged his mother. ‘The midwife had a look at her and is perfectly satisfied.’
‘But midwives can’t know as much as doctors,’ he replied worriedly. ‘There may be something seriously wrong.’
Thomasin chuckled. ‘I shouldn’t let the midwife hear you saying that. She carries a pretty sharp pair of scissors in her pinny. Don’t worry, lad. If she can’t cope she’s had my firm instructions to send for the doctor. I had the two of you without any medical help so there’s no reason why Peggy can’t.’ A vision of Dickie’s fluffy head cradled in her arms intruded on her thinking; she thrust it aside.
At her words Patrick, too, got the vision. Oh, son, son! If only we knew ye were all right and not lying rotting in some back alleyway. He and Sonny had made various trips to surrounding villages in an effort to sniff out the tinkers’ trail, but the Fallons had vanished completely.
‘She can’t eat anything,’ Sonny rambled on. ‘I asked Josie to take up a tray after we’d gone to Mass; it came down untouched. It must weaken her, not eating.’
‘Look, will you stop worrying,’ said Thomasin. ‘Wearing yourself to a frazzle isn’t going to help her. It’s perfectly natural, having babies. She’ll be right as rain in a few weeks, you see.’ She reached for the cream jug and tipped it towards her cup. There was a delicate ping as the two pieces of china accidentally kissed.
‘Perhaps she might have an appetite now,’ persevered Sonny. ‘Maybe if I ask Josie to take up another tray.’
‘Really, Sonny you’re getting like a broody old hen,’ reprehended his mother. ‘If you are forced, you may ask Josie to take something up, but go and ask your wife if she wants anything first. I don’t want poor Josie tramping up and down three flights of stairs for nothing.’
‘I’d hardly call it nothing,’ objected Sonny. ‘My wife’s ill and …’
‘Oh, Sonny for pity’s sake!’ Thomasin covered her brow with her hand. ‘Act as you must, but do stop treating that girl as if she were made of porcelain. You’re making a rod for your own back there, I tell you.’
Sonny shoved his chair under the table and marched out, ruffled.
‘Eh, she’s got him like that!’ Thomasin clenched her fist and shook it. ‘Can’t he see she’s just having him on a bit of string? All she wants is attention.’
‘An’ what’s wrong with that?’ asked Patrick cheerfully. ‘I’d welcome a bit more attention meself at times.’
Her visage became even more severe. ‘Would you care to enlarge on that remark?’
‘Jazers, woman ye’re always biting these days. All I meant was we’d all like more attention than we get.’
‘No, you didn’t. That jibe was directed at me. I want to know what it meant. You don’t go short of anything, do you? There’s always a meal on the table when you come home, isn’t there?’
He rose, his face smilingly-patient and, coming round the table, took hold of her hands and pulled her gently from her seat. ‘Woman, you’re so damned bristly lately. I know you’re worried about Dickie – we all are – but snapping at me isn’t going to make him reappear. All I meant was I don’t see as much of ye as I’d like to these days. You’re always busy at your work. I love ye, Tommy. I miss your company. You’re right, I don’t go short of anything – but there are occasions when I hanker after the old days.’
‘Don’t try to tell me you’d swap all this for that poky old house, because I’d not believe you.’
‘If I thought it’d bring me more o’ your company then I’d do it this minute,’ was his honest answer. ‘All this is very fine, an’ if you’re happy with it then so am I. But you know me – I’m all for the simple life.’ There had been less and less of that over the past couple of years. His visits to Walmgate had tailed off after the humiliation of Erin’s wedding; he could not bear to face Molly. But, as he said now, ‘It wouldn’t worry me if I were back in Walmgate tomorrow if you were with me.’
She smiled lovingly then. ‘Forgive me, love. I have been a bit of a maungy cat lately. It’s that wife of Sonny’s, she’d drive a saint to murder. And I’m sorry if it looked like I’ve been neglecting you in favour of the store. I shall make a definite effort to be a more dutiful wife to you.’
‘Dutiful – you?’ he laughed. ‘Begod, ’tis not miracles I’m askin’ for. No, all I want is the old Tommy waiting for me when I get home from work on an evening. Give me that an’ I’ll be happy.’
‘Eh, he’s easily pleased is lad!’ Thomasin gave him a smacking kiss. ‘Very well, sir – your complaint will be rectified forthwith.’
But though they laughed, secretly they both knew that she would be unable to fulfil the promise, for the old Tommy no longer existed.
* * *
Sonny gripped the brass knob in his square, competent hand, twisted gently and peeped into the bedchamber. Someone had opened the drapes and the bright sunshine streamed into the pleasant room so that the fourposter with its yellow spread was a soft blur of gold. He crept over to the bed and looked down at his sleeping wife. She looked radiant with the sunbeams striking her passive features. Peggy gave a sigh and began to open her eyes, closing them again quickly as the sunlight dazzled her. Sonny went solicitously to the window and tugged at a curtain to shade the light from her face, then returned to sit on the bed.
He bent over and kissed her lips, and would have liked to press his suit had she not turned her head away. ‘How’s our patient? Did you have a nice rest while I was at Mass?’
She groaned and spoke through her fingers. ‘I feel awful. Did anyone mind very much that I wasn’t at church?’
‘I did,’ said her husband. ‘I missed you like anything.’ He stroked the tousled hair from her face. ‘Father Kelly asked after you.’
‘Did he? I trust you acquainted him with my state of health.’
‘He understands,’ replied Sonny, wishing the same were true of his mother. A fool could see that the girl was undergoing enormous suffering. He made his voice deliberately bright to raise her spirits. ‘Is there anything I can get for you? Could you face some breakfast if I send Josie up?’
She groaned again. ‘Maybe later I might be able to keep something down. Just now all I want to do is sleep.’
He kissed her and rose. ‘’Course. It was selfish of me to wake you in the first place.’ He cupped her cheek with his hand and gazed at her lovely face. ‘You sleep now. I’ll ask Josie to pop in later.’
When the door had closed behind him Peggy listened for the creak of the stairs. Then, satisfied that he had gone, she leaned forward, punched at her pillows and made herself comfortable. Retrieving the box of chocolates which had been in danger of melting under the bedclothes, she stuffed two into her mouth and went back to the magazine through which she had been thumbing before she had been so rudely interrupted.
* * *
‘You just tell me what Miss Peggy wants, Mr John an’ I’ll whisk it up any time,’ said Josie. ‘Poor lamb, it must be awful to be in such a happy condition and yet feel so wretched.’ It was no secret that Miss Peggy was in a delicate state and that Mr John had stepped into the breach to save her being labelled a loose woman. It was a grand thing for any man to do – marry a girl when the babe she carried wasn’t his – but that was just like Mr John. She straightened the cloth on the tray and laid a setting. ‘What d’you think she’d fancy?’
Sonny ballooned his cheeks. ‘Oh, I’ll leave it to you, Jo
sie. I’m not very well informed on what might tempt a sluggish palate.’ He glanced down at the bucket of shamrock at his feet, imported for this special day. ‘You might decorate the tray with a bit of that – make it look pretty so that she doesn’t feel left out of the celebrations.’
‘Don’t you worry, Mr John.’ Josie bustled about the kitchen. ‘I’ll do it up right special and see that she gets something down her.’
A short interval later Josie boiled an egg, placed it in a silver eggcup on the tray along with some strips of bread and butter, some pieces of honeycomb, a cluster of grapes, cream jug, sugar bowl, cup, saucer and teapot. She didn’t really have a lot of time to spare as there was the St Patrick’s Day luncheon to see to, but if she couldn’t manage a few minutes for Mr John’s wife then it was a bad show. She wound her way up three flights of stairs, stepping lightly so as not to disturb Peggy if she was still sleeping. Laying down the tray outside the bedroom door she carefully twisted the knob and inserted her head round the door. Two dimples punctuated her artless expression. ‘Why, Miss Peggy I’m so glad to see you’re feeling better!’
Peggy, caught on the hop, had no time to conceal the half-eaten casket of chocolates as she had done at Sonny’s approach. In her anxiety she clipped the box with her fumbling hands and tipped the contents onto the floor.
‘Oh, here, let me!’ Josie rattled in with the tray and set it on the bedside table.
‘Would it not have been more mannerly to knock before you entered?’ demanded Peggy waspishly, watching Josie scrumple up the empty chocolate cases and return the uneaten ones to the box.
‘Well, I didn’t like to, Miss Peggy.’ Josie heaved up her ample proportions and, putting the chocolates aside, started to rearrange the bedclothes. ‘Mr John said you might be asleep an’ I didn’t want to wake you. Let’s make you comfy, shall we?’
‘For Heaven’s sake stop doing that!’ Peggy struck out at Josie’s ministerings. ‘And please afford me my correct status. I am not Miss Peggy but Mrs Feeney.’
Josie remained cheerful. ‘Well, I just thought it’d save confusion.’ She laid the tray on Peggy’s lap. ‘I mean, we won’t know who we’re talkin’ about with two Mrs Feeneys in the house.’
‘Nevertheless I insist that you have the courtesy to use my proper title,’ snapped Peggy, then pointing at the tray: ‘What’s all this?’ she picked at the sprigs of shamrock that bordered the tray and held one up between thumb and forefinger. ‘One would think this family was still treading the Irish bogs!’ She threw it and all the other pieces of shamrock onto the floor.
‘I’m sorry you don’t like it, Miss … Mrs Feeney,’ said Josie, still even-tempered, attributing Peggy’s foul mood to her condition; women could be a bit odd at such times. ‘Mr John an’ I thought …’
‘Mr John and I?’ mouthed Peggy imperiously. ‘My husband has been discussing our private affairs with the servant?’
‘He simply suggested that I make the tray look pretty so’s you’d eat something,’ explained Josie.
‘And this constitutes pretty, does it?’ Peggy viciously smashed the top of the egg with a spoon. ‘One over-boiled egg and the leftovers from the breakfast table. Well, if you think I’m going to eat that muck you’re mistaken.’ With one violent movement she hurled the tray onto the floor, plastering the Axminster rug with butter, smashed honeycombs and steaming tea.
‘Oh, Miss Peggy I’m sure there was no call for that!’ Josie clasped her hands to her cheeks and stared down at the mess.
‘I beg your pardon?’ Peggy, undergoing a remarkable recovery, leapt from the bed and confronted Josie face to face. ‘Just whom do you think you are addressing?’ Josie gaped. ‘It seems to me that people in this house have been far too lenient with you. You are much too familiar with your superiors. Well, I for one will not be spoken to in such a fashion.’
‘I apologise, Mrs Feeney,’ answered Josie contritely. ‘I’m sure I didn’t mean to upset you.’
‘You do not upset me,’ snarled Peggy. ‘You annoy me greatly. Now please be quick to clean up that mess and get out!’ She flounced back to bed glaring as Josie tried to rehabilitate the Axminster, using her apron as a mop.
When she had done her best the maid curtseyed and asked: ‘Will you be coming down to lunch later, ma’am or will you require a tray?’
‘You can fetch me something on a tray,’ replied Peggy ungratefully. ‘And make sure it’s more edible than the previous offering. Now go and leave me alone.’
When Sonny returned from the store at lunchtime he intercepted Josie on her way upstairs with another tray. ‘Oh, she’s still in bed then? I was hoping she’d be over it by lunchtime, that’s why I persuaded Mother to close so we could all take lunch together.’
She took in his look of disappointment. ‘Well, babies can cause an awful lot of trouble, Mr John; they have minds of their own.’ Like some people I could mention, but won’t.
‘How did the breakfast go down?’ he asked.
‘Oh, she really went to town on it,’ replied Josie, without so much as a blink.
‘Splendid. I knew you could be relied upon to produce something effective, Josie.’ He reached for the tray. ‘Tell you what, I’ll take that up, save your legs. I was going up to see my wife anyway.’
‘Very good, Mr John.’Josie handed it over. ‘I hope Mrs Feeney finds something there to her satisfaction.’ Though I wouldn’t think so if she’s been stuffing herself with chocolates all morning. What a performance! Josie had been quite hurt by the young mistress’ attitude – though she wouldn’t mention it to Mr John. He had enough troubles and would be in for some more if he crossed swords with his wife, which he would if he knew how she had treated the maid. He was a very fair young man was Mr John – the way he had seen no wrong in taking the tray up himself advertised this. Mindst, the poor girl had been through a lot and they all had to make allowances for her. She’d be a bit more pliable when the baby arrived.
Sonny issued a cheerful greeting as he elbowed his way into the bedroom with the tray and saw that his wife was awake. ‘Glad to see you’ve livened up since this morning. Josie tells me you enjoyed some breakfast.’
She fastened wary eyes to his face, but seeing no hint of satire answered, ‘Yes, it went down a treat.’
‘I’m so glad. D’you think you could tackle some lunch?’ He lifted the lid that covered the plate. ‘There’s a lovely bit of fish pie here. She’s an expert at pastry crust is Josie – even better than Erin; but keep that to yourself.’
‘It looks too stodgy,’ was Peggy’s unkind reply. ‘Though I may attempt a forkful of vegetables – just to please you.’ Sonny sat by her while she picked over the meal. She caught him staring at her. ‘What’s the matter?’
‘Oh, nothing.’ He started and smiled. ‘I was just thinking how I’d love to paint you in that pose.’ His wife had such expressive eyes.
‘Then why don’t you?’ she asked, before sliding a regiment of peas between her lips.
‘I’m afraid I have to go back to the store this afternoon. I promised Mother I’d do the ordering for her.’
‘Oh, Mother, Mother! What about me? I’m your wife. Surely it wouldn’t harm your mother to do without you for one afternoon – and it is St Patrick’s Day; it would have been more respectful not to have opened the store at all.’
‘Well …’
She leaned over and grabbed his hand imploringly. ‘Stay with me, Sonny. I’m so bored being stuck up here alone.’ And the magazines had all been read; the chocolates eaten.
He stroked her fingers. ‘Maybe you’ll feel strong enough later to get up; then you could take a little walk to the store and keep me company.’
‘Oh, no!’ She fell back against the pillows. ‘I’m much too weak. Please, Sonny, stay and paint me. You always said you would.’
‘I know but …’
‘What’s the matter? Don’t you think I’m pretty enough at the moment?’ she pouted. He was quick to set that matter straight –
she was radiant, he told her. ‘Then please, please stay and paint me.’
He chewed on the idea for a moment. Mother had not arrived home yet; maybe she had changed her mind about closing for lunch. If that were the case he would not be able to let her know he wasn’t coming back this afternoon. Still, he stared at Peggy’s pleading face, his wife must come first. With mixed feelings he capitulated and went to dig his equipment from the cupboard. Mother couldn’t possibly mind if he spent the afternoon with his sick wife.
In his absence Peggy gloated; that was another point she could safely award to her score. The stake which she had inserted between mother and son was slowly being driven further home. Soon the bond should be severed completely and Peggy would have her way.
* * *
Thomasin waited until Patrick was out of the room before approaching Sonny that evening. She had suffered a prick of alarm when he had not turned up after lunch, coloured by the abduction of her other son. All through the afternoon she had worried. When she had arrived home to find he had been here all the time she was livid. It had taken great restraint to control her temper until now.
‘You might have sent word that you didn’t intend to come back after lunch,’ she censured. ‘I was very concerned about you. Yes, concerned!’ she lashed at his sceptical smile. ‘Can’t you imagine what went through my mind when you didn’t turn up? All these weeks you’ve watched me worrying over Dickie and it’s taught you nothing. Didn’t you realise how frightened I’d be?’
‘Not frightened enough to close the store and come looking for me, though eh, Mother?’ He relented at once under her glare. ‘No, I’m sorry – you’re right, it was remiss of me. I just didn’t think …’
‘Oh? I don’t see an Out of Order sign round your head. I mean, presumably some things get the old cogwheels turning – I don’t need to ask who.’
‘Peggy asked me to stay with her …’
For My Brother’s Sins Page 44