by Iris Gower
He turned her over onto her back and then he was bringing her fresh delights; she cried out, feeling she would die from the rush of joy that seemed almost painful in its intensity. ‘Boyo, Boyo, I love you so much.’
Afterwards, they lay quietly side by side in the great bed, the hours passing in dreaming and whispers and sometimes in snatches of sleep. Catherine’s limbs remained twined around his, her face against Boyo’s heart. The beating was rapid, loud in her ears. She felt privileged to enjoy such happiness, such fulfilment and yet she knew the magic must end, he would rise, go to the bathroom and then he would be making for home and for his wife.
‘Cat,’ he said softly and it was as if he sensed her thoughts. ‘I must go soon but there’s something I want to say first. Now, don’t be angry or offended but I’ve opened a bank account in your name. Please don’t say anything, I have so much money that I don’t know what to do with it. Your father, he was good to me once – a long time ago, this is perhaps the only way I can repay him.’
Catherine was silent, was this his way of telling her it was over, of paying her off? ‘Are you saying goodbye, Boyo?’ She asked, her voice suddenly hard. He sat up and looked down at her in exasperation.
‘Why is it that I am misunderstood at every turn?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Look, I told Bethan what I was going to do, to give you some money of your own. She thought I was going to leave her. Now this from you. Women! I’ll never understand them.’
Catherine suddenly saw the funny side of it. Boyo sitting up in bed naked, his hair tangled over his forehead like that of a small boy and a bewildered look on his face, trying to do his best in what must be a very difficult situation.
‘If you’ll never understand women, how is it you have two in your life?’ She fell back on the pillow and tears rolled down her cheeks and she wasn’t sure if she was laughing or crying.
‘You vixen, I ought to give you a good spanking.’ He held her close and kissed her mouth gently. ‘I love you, Cat, I’ll never say goodbye to you, I promise. But I cannot abdicate my responsibilities at home either, not now. All I can do is my best and the two women in my life will have to take it or leave it.’
‘I know.’ She nuzzled close to him. ‘I’m a harridan and a nag. Thank you for the money, it’s a kind thought.’
‘But you won’t use it, not even to try to cure your father?’ He read her well.
‘No, I won’t use it. As for curing Dad, I accept now that it isn’t possible. He’s sick unto death, he has had enough and he’s ready to die, he’s told me so. Mam thinks I don’t realize how bad Dad is but I realize, oh, I realize only too well.’ There was a catch in her throat and suddenly her happiness had evaporated. She clung to Boyo.
‘How am I going to face it? I can’t imagine life without my father.’ She caught her breath. ‘And Mam, she will be lost and alone. We both have more than our share of responsibility and, like you, I feel all I can do is my best, to share myself out between you all.’
‘What we mustn’t do is quarrel between ourselves,’ Boyo said softly. ‘I do not want to add to your troubles. My only worry is that I can’t spend as much time as I want to with the only woman I will ever love.’
Catherine clung to him feeling warmed and comforted by his words. He loved her, that was a knowledge she must hold to her in the dark days that were to come.
Liam was standing near the gate when Catherine returned to Honey’s Farm, waiting for her seemed to have become a habit with him. She looked into his face anxiously.
‘Dad, is he worse?’
‘He’s just the same, colleen, no change at all.’ He began to walk beside her along the path. ‘It’s just the feeling in the house, the oppression, it gets to me sometimes, all the pain of it,’
She took his hand. ‘You are a very nice, very sensitive man, Liam,’ she said softly. He gripped her hand tightly.
‘Sure and don’t I know that without you telling me? I’m a handsome buck into the bargain and you should be glad to be seen with a fine fellow like me.’
‘Seen with you?’ Catherine asked unable to resist a smile at his cheek.
‘Yes, seen with me, have you forgotten we are going to the fair tomorrow?’
She looked at him doubtfully. ‘Do you think we should, Liam? I mean perhaps it would be better if we stayed with Mam.’
‘Positively not,’ Liam said. ‘Uncle Jamie was on to me about it only this evening. “Taking my girl to the fair tomorrow, aren’t you, giving her a bit of a break?” That’s what he said.’
Catherine could well believe it, her dad was the sort of man who thought about the feelings of others, he probably realized she needed to laugh a little now and again to lighten the burden his sickness placed on her.
‘Yes, then, we shall go to the fair. Satisfied?’ She smiled up at him and behind him the sun was going down, highlighting the red of his hair. He really was a handsome man, why couldn’t she have fallen in love with him she asked herself not for the first time.
‘I could grow on you.’ Liam spoke as if he had heard her thoughts. ‘We could make a good marriage and in time you would come to love me. What girl could resist me for long?’
She shook her head. ‘No, Liam, I am in love with Boyo Hopkins, I am his mistress whether you like it or not. I know I can’t be his wife but then I have something his wife does not have, his love.’
Liam stopped walking and put his hands on her arms. ‘Are you sure, love?’ He asked softly and there was no censure in his voice. ‘Men say all sorts of things, make promises, will do anything when they want a woman as beautiful as you.’
‘Liam, I know you mean well but don’t worry about me. I’m not a child, I know what I’m doing and I know Boyo loves me. I don’t have to prove that to anyone else.’
He sighed and drew her against his shoulder and held her gently, his chin resting on her hair.
‘Well, I’m in love with you, Catherine O’Conner, and I can’t help that. I think I’ve loved you from the first moment I saw you, first your photograph had me spellbound and then the sight of you in that hotel; so fresh, so lovely, how could I help loving you? I believe we are meant to be together.’ He held up his hand as she made to protest.
‘I won’t put any pressure on you but I will be here if ever you need me. Come on, give me a hug.’
She was happy to rest in his arms for a few moments, gathering her strength to go into the house. ‘Liam,’ her voice was muffled, ‘I’m glad to have you for a friend but that is all that can ever be between us.’
When Catherine made her way into the kitchen, Fon was dozing in her chair, the pages of The Swansea Times strewn on the floor around her feet. She looked so young suddenly, so defenceless, that Catherine had the strangest feeling that they had changed places, she had become the strong one, the mother figure, and Fon the child.
She knelt on the floor and put her arms around her mother holding her close. ‘Mam,’ she said softly, ‘come on, let me take you up to bed, you’re exhausted.’
Fon leaned sleepily against her shoulder and Catherine felt a wave of protective love sweep over her. Fon needed her, needed her more than anyone in the world right now.
‘I’ll have a cup of tea first, love.’ Fon stirred and leaned away from Catherine. She looked up, her eyes were brimming with tears. ‘Oh, Catherine, I’m so afraid.’
‘I know, I know.’ Catherine rocked her mother to and fro, her eyes closed, a sense of despair and inadequacy rising within her.
She heard Liam build up the fire and then the scrape of the kettle against the coals. He was a good man and she was grateful to him but that was all she could offer him, her gratitude.
The water in the kettle, already warmed on the hob came swiftly to the boil. Liam moved about the kitchen quietly and efficiently and then Catherine heard the scrape of a chair on the flags.
‘Right, you two idle women,’ he said cheerfully, ‘come and have this cup of tea before it goes cold.’
Fon looked up and smiled through her tears. ‘You are a good boy, Liam. I’m so glad you’re here, I don’t know what we would do without you, love.’
‘I know, as I keep telling Catherine here, I’m indispensable and a fine handsome man to boot and tomorrow I am taking Catherine to the fair in town. I think I deserve a kiss from my Auntie Fon for such devotion to duty.’
Fon rose from her chair and crossed to where Liam was sitting and hugged him warmly. ‘I’d have known anywhere that you came from the same stock as Jamie, you are so like him.’
‘And that’s the highest praise any man could ask for.’ Liam reached up and touched Fon’s hair and for a moment, their eyes locked. It was, Catherine thought, as if the two of them were drawn together in a conspiracy and she knew full well what that conspiracy was.
Well, they could plan and plot but much as she loved her mam, she could not marry Liam, ever. The both of them would have to accept that sooner or later.
‘Drink your tea.’ Liam nodded towards Catherine as Fon released him, ‘Come on, both you girls could do with a bit of warming up, you are as pale as little day-old chicks the pair of you.’
There was silence in the kitchen except for the ticking of the clock on the mantelpiece and the shifting of coals in the grate. Catherine became aware that Fon was reluctant to go to the bed she shared with Jamie, fearing he would die in the night and leave her alone.
‘I’ll go and see to Dad.’ She rose with a sense of purpose, ‘I’ll make sure he’s comfortable and settled for the night.’
Fon glanced at her gratefully. ‘There’s a good girl.’ The relief in her voice was almost tangible. Catherine squared her shoulders and moved to the door and Liam’s quietly spoken words followed her.
‘If you need any help, colleen, just call me.’
It was dark in her father’s room and Catherine lit the lamp and watched as the soft light spilled over the bed. Jamie’s eyes were open and he forced a smile as he looked at her. She sat carefully on the bed beside him. ‘Do you need anything, Dad?’ She touched his hand, his skin was dry and hot.
‘I need the privie, Catherine.’ He sounded apologetic. She smiled.
‘You don’t need to worry, Dad, there’s a chamber under the bed, I’ll get it for you.’ She scrambled on her knees beneath the bed and drew out the china chamber-pot. She helped her father swing his trembling legs over the side of the bed and then attempted to draw him to his feet.
He looked up at her, his face suddenly covered in a sheen of sweat. ‘It’s no good, Cathie, we are not going to manage it.’ He bent his head. ‘Oh, God, let me die in dignity, don’t make this torture go on.’
‘Wait here, Dad.’ Catherine left him propped against the iron bedpost and hurried to the top of the stairs. ‘Liam, could you give me a hand up here?’ She kept her voice calm so as not to worry her mother. The door downstairs opened and Liam was taking the stairs two steps at a time.
Together, they accomplished the difficult task and afterwards, as Liam carried the chamber away, Catherine fetched warm water and bathed her father as though he was a baby.
‘You shouldn’t be doing this, my little love,’ Jamie was exhausted, his face grey; ‘you are a child, it’s not fair on you.’
‘Don’t talk rubbish, Dad!’ Catherine tweaked his nightshirt into place and covered him with the blankets. ‘I’m a big, strong farm girl and if I can’t give my father a helping hand with what comes naturally then there’s something wrong with me.’
‘Now,’ she looked down at him, ‘I shall bring you a nice hot cup of tea with plenty of sugar, just as you like it.’
‘Forget tea,’ Jamie said with a show of his old spirit, ‘I think I deserve a drink of something stronger after what you and that nephew of mine have just put me through.’
‘What about a little drop of brandy then, Dad?’ she winked at him. ‘But don’t go telling Mam and getting me into trouble, mind.’
Downstairs, she washed her hands in the water from the kettle and then poured her father a liberal measure from the brandy bottle.
‘What’s that?’ Fon asked without any real curiosity.
‘Never you mind, it’s a little treat for my dad, he’ll sleep tonight, have a good rest.’ She paused, her hand on her mother’s shoulder, ‘A little drop of brandy can’t do him any harm now, Mam.’
Later, when Fon had gone to bed, Catherine sat in the kitchen with Liam and she was grateful to him for the companionable silence they shared. The coals shifted and sparks shot up from the cinders in the pan beneath the fire.
‘Time to go to bed, I suppose,’ Catherine said softly. She looked at Liam. ‘Mam is right, I don’t know what we’d do without you.’
‘It’s the least I can do.’ Liam smiled his slow smile and rose to his feet. ‘Right then, bed it is and don’t worry about your dad’s ablutions in the morning, from now on, I’ll see to that.’
He knelt and riddled the coals in the fire. ‘I’ll be out of bed early, I always am, it’s the way of farm life, it becomes a habit, so don’t worry.’ He glanced at her over his shoulder. ‘Go on, get your rest, you’ve got shadows under your eyes as deep as the folds in the mountains of Mourne.’
But when she was lying in bed with the moon stretching fingers of light across the floor and bed, Catherine was unable to sleep. She thought of Boyo and, for the first time since their relationship began, she felt a tinge of resentment against him; she was hurt and angry that he couldn’t be with her at this time when she most needed him. It was a long time before she closed her eyes.
The day of the fair dawned bright and sunny. Catherine rose from bed feeling a lifting of her spirits, Liam was taking her to town. For an hour or two, she could forget her father’s sickness, forget her mother’s haunted eyes and just enjoy being young and healthy.
Liam and Fon were already in the kitchen when she descended the stairs. Liam was sitting at the table and Fon was serving the breakfast, she was actually smiling. ‘Liam’s seen to your dad,’ she said eagerly, ‘and we both think he looks a little better today.’
Catherine felt pity drag at her. She met Liam’s eyes and she knew they shared the knowledge that Jamie O’Conner would never get better.
‘I’m glad he’s having a good day.’ She kissed her mother’s cheek. ‘Anything I can do?’
‘Aye, pour some more tea, I’m parched.’
‘So am I,’ Liam said. ‘I thought you’d never get out of bed and do some work down here in the kitchen.’
‘Work, that’s all I ever do,’ Catherine returned his banter. ‘Put upon by my cruel family I am.’
‘My heart bleeds for you,’ Liam said dryly and Catherine smiled at him. She was growing fond of this cousin of hers.
The morning was a busy one, the usual chores had to be done and though Liam had hired four labourers to work the farm, he was still needed to supervise. It was late afternoon by the time Catherine climbed into the trap beside him and headed towards Swansea.
The sun was high above, warm and comforting, it was good to be alive. Catherine had become very much aware of her own mortality lately, her father’s sickness had made her realize how uncertain life could be. She breathed deeply, how lucky she was to be able to enjoy the sunshine.
‘Was Dad really feeling better this morning? Is he having a good day?’
‘He is.’ Liam smiled down at her. ‘He’s got the fighting spirit of the Irish in him, hasn’t he?’
‘I know but last night he was so sad, so weary, he just wanted to die.’
‘Well today is a new day,’ Liam said emphatically, ‘and right now, you and me are going to enjoy it.’
‘I feel as excited as a child.’ Ellie smiled up at her husband and Daniel bent and kissed the tip of her nose. ‘It’s so long since I’ve been to a fairground and more importantly, so long since I’ve visited Swansea.’
‘And we are going to ride in a grand carriage,’ Daniel said, with a gleam in his eye. ‘It’s a fine thing when your wi
fe knows so many influential people.’
‘It’s only Boyo and Bethan we’re going with,’ Ellie said reproachfully, ‘and Boyo is an old friend, isn’t he? Anyone would think I was a social climber.’
‘Ah, but Boyo’s wife is county, you know.’ Daniel adopted a heavy attitude and stared down at her with a long face. ‘It is not often that a poor cleric and his wife have the pleasure of travelling in style with the toffs.’
Ellie laughed. ‘I suppose I was considered a toff, once before … well, it’s a long time ago now.’
‘I was forgetting’, Daniel teased, ‘that my wife was born to a rich family herself and was once owner of Glyn Hir tannery, a woman of great fortune.’ He drew her close. ‘A woman who gave it all up for me and into the bargain made a young man very rich and very happy.’
‘The tannery was rightfully his,’ Ellie said, touching her husband’s cheek. ‘Boyo has done well with what I gave him, he has made himself a much bigger fortune than he started with; all credit to him.’
The bell rang sharply and Ellie heard the maid cross the hall and swing back the arched door of the vicarage. Then the room seemed full with Boyo’s tall frame blotting out the light from the window and Bethan coming forward to kiss Ellie’s cheek.
‘You are looking well,’ Ellie said admiringly, ‘approaching motherhood seems to suit you.’
Bethan’s face was suddenly transformed, filled with light. She ran her hand over the curve of her belly and her eyes filled with tears. ‘I know, I’m so happy. I can’t believe it has happened, after all I’m not a young woman any more.’
‘Nonsense!’ Ellie protested. ‘You are a woman in your prime, you look beautiful.’
Boyo hugged Ellie and she looked closely into his face, realizing that he was not as happy as a man about to become a father should be. Had the shadow in the back of his eyes anything to do with the O’Conner girl? Rumour had it that the pair were lovers, still, it was none of her business.