For My Brother’s Sins

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

  ‘I couldn’t let ye sit out here all on your own.’ Patrick, clad only in his trousers, smiled through the half-light. ‘I’ve been through it meself. I know what it’s like listening to the woman ye love goin’ through hell an’ not being able to do a damn thing about it.’

  ‘It’s not quite the same though, is it?’ asked Sonny, battling with his lassitude. ‘You were waiting for your own child to be born – I’m waiting for someone else’s. Oh, take no notice of me,’ he returned his father’s smile, ‘I’m glad you came. It’s comforting to know somebody cares.’ There came another weary moan from Peggy.

  ‘Your mother cares too, son,’ answered his father softly. ‘I know she badly wanted to come an’ sit with ye herself but pride, or pig-headedness, call it what ye will, stopped her. That’s why I came in her stead; to tell ye that she loves ye an’ she doesn’t want ye to go packing your bags. She’s already lost one son, she doesn’t want to lose you, too.’

  Sonny gave a slanted smile on recalling his impulsive declaration. ‘I don’t think there’s much danger of that the way my bank balance stands.’ He turned fully round to face his father. ‘I can’t understand it, Dad. Why does she hate Peggy so? Can you tell me?’

  ‘Now, would ye take one bit o’ notice of anything I said if it were not in Peggy’s favour?’ asked his father. ‘No, I thought not. Then ’tis no good me saying anything, is it? Apart from telling ye that anything your mother says is purely for what she sees to be your own good and not out of spite. She loves ye, Sonny. It’d be awful nice if I were able to go back an’ tell her she’s forgiven. Can I?’

  Sonny set his head at a weary angle. ‘I’m sure we both said things that need to be forgiven. Father …’ He picked at the cloth of his trousers. ‘Do you feel the same way as Mother? Do you think I did wrong in marrying Peggy?’

  ‘Ah, the girl’s young yet,’ said Patrick evasively. ‘Any failings she has will right themselves with age.’

  ‘But you don’t really like her,’ said Sonny, then was diverted by an ear-splitting staccato of pain. ‘Oh, Christ!’ A sudden renewal of energy brought him leaping to his feet and he began to pound at the bedroom door.

  ‘What’s happened? What’s happened?’

  Presently the door opened and a tired-looking midwife filled the doorway carrying a bowl of water. ‘Can’t you shout any louder? Don’t you think I’m deaf enough already wi’ listening to that lot in there? What’s happened, you say. Your son’s happened, lad – an’ a right load o’ truck he’s caused in gettin’ ’ere an’ all!’

  * * *

  Because the midwife refused to let him in until Peggy had had some sleep, Sonny used the five hours that followed to rest his own throbbing head. When he woke he rushed down some breakfast then went back upstairs to demand entry.

  ‘Aye, you can come in now,’ granted the nurse, wiping her hands on a towel. ‘I’m off home. I’ll be back tomorrow to see how things are.’

  Sonny had expected to feel nothing for the child his brother had sired, had not even thought of it as a separate entity; but when he bent his head over the lace-draped crib and eased aside the covers he was greatly surprised to find his vision blurred by tears. There was nothing about the child to suggest his paternity – no thick, black curls like Rosanna’s – only a delicate, pale-gold cap, a button of a nose and puckered pink lips that, even in sleep, went through sucking motions.

  ‘Peggy, he’s marvellous,’ he breathed, glancing up adoringly at his wife. ‘Just like you.’

  Peggy seemed to be donating more interest to her manicure than the child.

  ‘Well, don’t you think so?’ he urged.

  She shrugged and continued to file her nails. ‘If you say he is then he must be.’

  He attributed her lack of zeal to fatigue. ‘I’m sorry. Here I am paying all this attention to the baby and none to the wife who gave him to me.’ He took a final warm look at the baby, then came to sit on the bed. ‘Was it very rough?’

  She spread her fingers then, satisfied with her efforts, folded away the manicure set and regarded him frostily. ‘If you are truly interested it was agony – sheer agony. I never want to go through it again. And I would have thought that the least my husband could do was to show some consideration while I was passing the night in purgatory.’

  Sonny took the rebuke to heart. ‘You know I would’ve been here if I’d been permitted. The midwife …’

  She bared her teeth. ‘I’m not talking about that! I refer to what we discussed yesterday when I asked you to dismiss that maid and you said you would. And what is the first thing that greets me after my tribulation? That great fat, lumpish prig bringing in my breakfast – so much for your promises.’

  ‘Oh dear.’ So that was the reason for her cool manner; she thought he had let her down – and he had.

  ‘Precisely. Oh dear!’ replied Peggy. The way his ginger hair clashed with the gold bedspread vexed her beyond reason. She pushed him off the bed with the excuse of wanting to straighten the covers.

  ‘I did talk to Mother about it. In fact we had quite a row. She made it clear that we’re only guests in her house and aren’t going to tell her what to do with the servants.’

  ‘I’d like to tell her what to do with them,’ said Peggy vindictively. ‘And I suppose you just stood there and took it?’

  ‘I tried my best! I even said that as soon as you were on your feet we’d get a place of our own.’ He caught the spark of hope in her eye and felt impotent at having to douse it. ‘But I’m afraid it won’t be up to much. I’ve a bit of money saved but it’s not going to provide anything as big as this.’

  ‘So we’re stuck here,’ she countered.

  ‘It looks like it – but only till I get enough. Besides,’ he looked uneasy, ‘there’s something else you should know.’ He told her about finding Rosanna, finishing with, ‘And as the two babies are half-brother and sister Father suggested it’d be kinder to keep them together.’

  ‘Father! Mother! Don’t you do anything off your own bat?’

  Her vehemence shook him, but he remained firm. ‘I happen to agree with him. She can’t help her beginnings, and she’s a likeable little thing – though not as much as ours.’ He looked fondly at the crib. He had never found babies in the least attractive until now.

  ‘I don’t know how you expect me to cope with two babies,’ she replied badtemperedly. ‘Though I don’t suppose it’ll concern you unduly, regarding the fact that neither of them are yours. Why don’t you go scouring the country in search of all your brother’s bastards? Then we can have a whole houseful.’

  ‘What a rotten thing to say! And so bloody unfair. Where would you have been if I hadn’t agreed to marry you?’

  ‘Oh, so I’m going to get that thrown in my face every five minutes, am I?’

  ‘Oh hell! I didn’t intend it to sound that way. You know why I married you – not because of the baby but ’cause I love you. Haven’t I told you often enough?’

  The baby, woken by hunger and their quarrelling, crumpled his face and started to whimper. ‘Pass it over, will you?’ said Peggy unforgivingly. ‘I suppose I must feed it much as it disgusts me. After all, we can’t have your mother forking out for a wet-nurse can we? You’re sure you wouldn’t like to bring the other one up so I can have one stuck on each side?’

  ‘There’s no call for such crudity,’ answered Sonny, gingerly picking up the infant and placing him in her arms. What on earth had come over her? She was like a different person. ‘Besides, Rosanna is weaned; she’s not going to cause that much trouble. If you like, Josie can see to most of her needs while she’s tiny. Honestly, Peg, I wouldn’t have agreed if I thought it was going to upset you like this. You know I wouldn’t do that for the world.’

  ‘Oh, I can’t see it making much difference,’ sighed Peggy lethargically, undoing the ribbons of her nightgown, then she bristled again. ‘But it would’ve been nice to be consulted for once. I don’t have any standing in this house whatsoever.�
�

  ‘That’s not true, Peggy. You’re the most important person in my life.’

  For a moment her face softened as she looked down on her newborn son. Once again there was the Peggy he’d fallen hopelessly in love with. ‘Yes, I believe you mean that, Sonny. You’re much too good for me, you know.’

  ‘Rubbish!’ he laughed awkwardly.

  ‘Yes, you are. There’s not many would have had me after what I did to you, and look upon the baby as their own.’ She put a finger to the infant’s cheek; the mouth was instantly open. She laughed softly and put her face close to his, breathing in his scent. Strangely, this display made him feel even more pushed out. But he was glad to see her looking happier and said as much.

  She sighed. ‘I would be even happier were it not for your domineering mother.’

  ‘I do wish you’d try to make an effort to get along with her, Peggy,’ he begged.

  She reverted to her defiant profile and the radiance he had witnessed a moment ago evaporated. ‘Like you do, you mean? Knuckling under, never standing up for your rights, or your wife’s rights – never taking a decision unless Mother agrees. Hah! Now I understand why they call you Sonny – you’re just a weak little boy. Now, will you please go? I’d like to do this privately.’ She had finished undoing her ribbons, and waited.

  Sonny, mortally wounded, slunk from the room. Looking back, he would remember this as the time he began to come awake from his false idyll.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  The ensuing years brought great change to the house in Monkgate. Some for the better, some much worse. The mutual dislike of the two Mrs Feeneys continued to hang like a shroud over what might have been a pleasant family atmosphere. But Thomasin still refused to give in over the settlement. It was hell living with Peggy but she would be even more on edge if Sonny and his wife moved out of her control, not only because she knew Peggy would take charge of her hard-earned cash, but also for the babies’ welfare, for Peggy was no mother. It was as well this was a large house and the two could keep out of each other’s way, only meeting at mealtimes. Sometimes Sonny feared he was going to crack under the strain of it all.

  Peggy had insisted after the birth of the child that she had to have a room to herself. It was very tiring bringing up two children and she claimed that Sonny disturbed her when he came to bed. Mother had not been very pleased, but for once Sonny had insisted on his wife’s rights to privacy, even though Peggy’s request had cut him deeply.

  The state of their marrige deteriorated. It was as though they were merely lodgers in the same house. He had tried very hard to understand his wife’s attitude – it was said that some women behaved apathetically after parturition, and he would have liked to believe this to be the contributing factor to her treatment of him. But he sensed that she somehow held him to blame for her unhappiness. She could be very cruel at times; making excuses to keep him from her bed. Yet at others there would be the old Peggy whom he had wooed and courted in the front parlour, delighting him with her attention and welcoming him into her bed for nights of sensuous pleasure.

  At first poor unsophisticated Sonny was far too appreciative to notice that these passionate nights coincided with a request from Peggy for clothes or money. When he did connect the two, the realisation hurt even more.

  There was only one way he could find solace in his loneliness and that was in his painting. Things being more settled at the store, his mother had once again granted him the afternoons off. She felt so desperately sorry for her son, despite the hurtful words he’d flung at her. She knew that it was Peggy speaking and not her son. He was able to paint quite openly now. Patrick had returned home one rainy day to catch his son in the act. After a few harsh words about why Sonny was not at the store helping his mother, Patrick was made to realise by his son’s answer just how important Sonny’s painting was to him. He knew that all was not as it should be with the boy’s marriage, but had not imagined that it was so bad.

  ‘Ye’ve floored me, Sonny,’ he gasped. ‘I never knew it was as rough as that. By God man, ye want to take her in hand.’

  Sonny shook his head tiredly. ‘If she doesn’t want me then I’ll not force myself on her.’ He looked up eamestly. ‘It’s just … I can’t understood what I’ve done wrong.’

  ‘Now there’s no blame to be laid at your door, Sonny,’ replied Patrick. ‘’Tis not for me to say why she’s doing this to ye, but I know an’ you know that ye’ve done that girl proud. How many men would marry a girl who was carrying their brother’s child; set her up in a big house with a servant at her beck an’ call; place her on a pedestal almost? No, ’tis nothing you’ve done. I’ve a mind to go tell that young lady just how lucky she is.’

  ‘No! Please leave it, Dad, it’ll only cause a row an’ could make matters much worse. It’s my problem; I must sort it out for myself.’

  Problems, problems, sighed Patrick to himself. God, what’s happening to this family? I’ve a son disappeared off the face o’ the earth, another whose wife has reduced the marital act to a bargain basement, and a daughter who’s too terrified to let her husband touch her. Where did we go wrong?

  He had looked at his son then, sat like a forlorn child at his easel, painting away his sorrow. What right had Patrick to take away this last scrap of comfort? Leaning nearer the unfinished painting he stroked his chin thoughtfully. ‘This was your mother’s idea, ye say? You taking the afternoons off to paint.’

  Sonny played with a palette knife, pushing and pulling at the patches of colour on the wooden board. ‘She gave me her permission, yes, but I hope you’re not going to wait for her to come home then pounce on her. If you want to have a go at me then do so, but Mam was only trying to help me; she knows how things are.’ They had stitched up the wounds each had inflicted on the other; things were tranquil between them at the moment. ‘I wish she’d thought to share it with me,’ said his father. There was a time when they had had no secrets from each other. But lots of things were different between them these days. And he had his own secrets.

  ‘Well, I dare say she knew how you’d react,’ replied his son.

  ‘How long’s it been going on?’

  ‘A couple of years or so. My pictures have been selling very well actually.’

  ‘I thought your mother was only selling the ones ye’d done ages ago. I didn’t realise you were having to take the afternoons off to provide her with stock.’

  ‘I suppose that’s that then, is it?’ Sonny fetched a large cloth and draped it over the canvas.

  ‘Take it off.’

  Sonny looked enquiringly at his father.

  ‘Take it off,’ repeated Patrick. ‘An’ for Christ’s sake, Sonny – stop trying to be some sort of bloody martyr. Ye really know how to make a father feel guilty, don’t ye? What’s happened to ye? Where’s your fight gone? Ye used to be such a spunky kid – even as a five year old ye were never afraid to argue with me.’

  ‘I’m still not afraid,’ sighed Sonny. ‘I just can’t be bothered.’

  ‘Christ, she’s really done a magic trick on you, hasn’t she? Why d’ye stand for it, if she’s upsetting ye like this? Is it that you’re nervous o’ chucking her out? ’Cause I can tell ye ye needn’t be. We’ll be right behind ye, Sonny.’

  ‘There’s none of you understands, is there? I don’t want to throw her out, I love her.’

  ‘God! How can ye love anybody who treats ye like she does?’

  ‘How the hell do I know? I just know I do.’

  ‘Will ye stop putting them bloody painting things away! For God’s sake stand up for yourself, lad. That bloody woman’s making a sop of ye. Ye want me to say it? All right I will: I was wrong to stunt your ambition, wrong about your pictures, wrong about every bloody thing. Now take off that bloody cover an’ get on with it!’

  So Sonny did.

  * * *

  Patrick himself had experienced changes. Catch had been correct in saying that his was too much land for one man to work, so apart from
having the old molecatcher help him from time to time he had also taken on a labourer.

  Domestic matters too had not escaped modification. Josie had been promoted to cook-housekeeper, with two young girls to help with the chores. Peggy – well, Peggy was just as lazy and slovenly as ever, using the children as an excuse to get out of any work and sitting in the park all day reading her magazines.

  The only thing which flourished in this uneasy atmosphere was Thomasin’s business, which had built up a very fine reputation for itself. The demand for home-baked produce was now so considerable that Thomasin had hired an experienced pastry-cook. Added to William and his apprentice, the boy who had taken over Dickie’s mobile grocery and the other female assistant she had taken on, this brought the strength of her shop staff to five, not counting Sonny. All of which enabled Thomasin to spend more time touring the city drumming up business and sniffing out a good deal. Which is how she found out about the vacant property in Parliament Street.

  This particular day had been pleasing in all aspects. She had just clinched an important deal. Her opponents had been obstructive to her proposals in the beginning, but after lunch by the riverside with a capful of wind whispering through the treetops and an attractive female bargainer, they had finally come around to Thomasin’s way of thinking. Immensely pleased with herself, Thomasin had shaken hands on the deal and had taken a cab, intending to squeeze in another commitment before the sun went down. But as the cab steered slowly in and out of the parked vehicles along Parliament Street she spotted it.

  Asking the cabbie to wait a while she alighted from the hansom and peered up at the estate agent’s sign, then back down again at the property. It was ideal; much bigger than her present store, and in not too bad a shape, either. It wouldn’t need as drastic treatment as had Penny’s. An opportunity such as this would not come twice; she must take instantaneous action.