by Mary Wood
‘You look happy, sir. It’s nice to see. There seems so much gloom about. You’d not think it was the start of summer, when all expectation should be in the air.’
‘Oh? What’s afoot, Tom? I sensed myself that all isn’t well.’
‘No, there’s one or two down in the dumps. My Issy was telling me of the Irish seeming to have problems. She’s been up there a couple of times this last week delivering babbies, and she says as there’s more than the usual black eyes and bruises amongst the womenfolk. She’s in a real twist about it all. Then there’s poor Will, coughing his heart up, and his ma hardly able to get out of bed. Then . . . well, all in all, it’s a sorry state of affairs.’
‘Yes. I know about Will, of course. Not much hope for him, from what the doctor says. Poor fellow was down the mine from an extremely early age. It’s very sad. He is such a nice man – one of God’s natural gentlemen.’ Anger, a familiar feeling on this subject, touched his heart. ‘The damn coughing sickness! It is a curse in our line of work. I do all I can to protect my workers, but some seem more susceptible to it. I believe Will’s father died of it, so he may have had a weakness. Still, it seems unfair it should get hold of him, just as his mother took ill. Of course, she’s getting on in years and so this kind of thing is to be expected, but it isn’t nice to hear of her suffering. Anyway, on the other subject, what does Isabella think is happening amongst the Irish community?’
‘She won’t say much. She thinks it’s to do with that traveller. She’s heard tell of stuff he gets up to, and some of it beggars belief.’
‘Is it something we could get the law onto?’
‘I think they should be involved, but Issy says everyone is scared stiff, so she don’t think they’ll say owt.’
‘Well, if you hear anything that is factual, let me know, Tom. Nothing can be done on conjecture. If I have a whiff of there being any truth in what’s behind the fear, I’ll speak to the magistrate and get the Leeds police involved.’
‘I’ll do me best. I’ll tell her you’re willing to help. That might give Issy a chance to get them to talk.’
‘Let’s hope so. I don’t like any of my workers feeling intimidated. Seamus has a cheek, and a rum way of repaying kindness. I expect Issy told you he used to drop in on us on a regular basis. We welcomed him, gave him work, shared any extra kills the gamekeeper made with him and generally looked out for his welfare, and this is how he repays us. Well, I am not standing for it, and I have a mind to tell him to leave my land and not come back.’
‘I beg your pardon, sir. I don’t mean to be bold, but I don’t think that would be wise. At least, not for you to tackle him on your own. He’s a villain. Some of what Issy hears is of him already on the run from the law, and from others. And it seems these “others” wouldn’t just stop at moving him on to another county; they’d be more likely to dispatch him to face his maker. Which means he could be a desperate man. You could be in danger by taking him on.’
‘You’re right, of course, and please don’t worry about having spoken out of turn. In fact, if that is what is going on, then I might speak to the police anyway, to see if they have any information on him. Well, I’ll be off. I want to call in on my mother, as well as have a scout around the estate. I should be back well in time for you to see to Goldboy before you finish for the night.’
Bridie opened the door to Issy. Her heart felt the gladness of seeing her friend, for some days she knew she’d not be able to carry on without Issy’s help. The tiredness ached in every part of her body, from coping with Will and Janet in their sickness, and from her lively little Bridget.
God had blessed her, so He had, when He’d sent little Bridget to them, but didn’t He soon after smote her with sadness?
Pride swelled in her, banishing these thoughts, as Issy entered and said, ‘By, Bridie, she’s a bonny little thing. And look at her, talking away to Janet as if she were going on thirty instead of being just two year and three months old!’
‘I know, ’tis as me little Bridget has an old head on her shoulders, and she’s for having the intelligence of a much older child. And isn’t she for being such a help too, keeping her granny entertained as she does? And her pappy . . .’
Oh, Will, her poor Will. The doctor’s words came back to her, and it was as if she’d not been for understanding them when she’d heard them. But now . . .
‘What is it, love?’
‘How is it I am going to cope, Issy? Dr Payne has been after warning me about Will. He’s – well, he’s getting worse . . . His time is near.’
‘You’re doing very well, lass; better than most would. You have a gift. You’re a natural at this nursing, and your inner strength amazes me.’
Issy’s arm came round her and gave her comfort. Her tears threatened to spill over, but she knew she couldn’t let them or they would never stop. Issy seemed to sense this. ‘I’m here for you, thou knows, love. You can call on me day or night. Come on, lass, let’s have a brew. I have a thirst on me as would rival the Devil’s, and with him sitting in all that heat, an’ all.’
‘Ha, I wasn’t for thinking of him like that. Well, I hope it is that he’s parched. It’ll serve him right for the evil he does!’ It surprised her to know she could laugh when the tears were a constant threat, but then Issy was after being a real tonic. She could take you from your sorrows to laughing in one sentence.
‘Aw, love, that’s better. Now, let’s have an update while I make the tea. How is Janet today?’
‘She’s about the same. There’s still no use in her left side, but she manages well. ’Tis not having her speech as is frustrating for her. She was after throwing her cup at me earlier, but I gave her a telling. Sure, it could have hit me wee Bridget, so it could. Janet cried, and it broke the heart of me. It must be like living in hell, not being able to communicate, and yet ’tis as Bridget seems to understand her. Many a time she’ll be after saying, “Mammy, me granna wants drinkies” or “Me granna’s tummy’s making noises,” to tell me Janet is hungry. It’s uncanny, so it is.’
‘It must be all those saints’ names you gave her. They’re all busy passing things on to her. What were they all again?’
‘Bridget, Mary, Janet and Megan. Though I’m not for knowing if Megan is a saint or not, but sure it is the name Will’s grandmother had, and as it was after being an Irish favourite, we put it in. Besides, it’s a powerful thing having the Mother of God’s name, so if one of them isn’t a saint, then that will be for making up for it.’
‘Ha, that’s a good one, if ever I heard owt. I thought it was only the fairies you all believed in. There’s nowt like having every possibility covered, is there? Anyroad, enough idle chatter. You look worn out, love. Is Will lying down?’
‘Aye. When I looked in on him a moment ago he was after being in a deep sleep, bless his heart.’
‘Well, let’s have this sup of tea and I’ll help you with Janet’s bath. We’ll get her comfortable, and if Will’s still at his rest by then, how about you go out for a walk, get some fresh air, eh? I can sit for the rest of the afternoon. I’ve done everything at home, and there’s no one about to drop a babby, so I’ll not be needed elsewhere. Besides, it’s days since I last sat for you. You can’t stay cooped up all the time.’
‘That would be grand. For the rest of the afternoon, you say? Would it be as I could go up the hill to see Eric? I haven’t been there since early spring. I could be telling him how things are here, and asking him to help his pappy and his granna. Oh, to stretch me legs that far and to feel the sun would be wonderful, so it would.’
‘Of course, that would be no problem. It’ll do you good.’
A warmth entered Bridie, and it wasn’t all down to the tea. Oh, to be going out on me own, and aye, maybe even seeing Seamus for a wee while, warms me heart, so it does. Though doesn’t that be giving me a feeling of a powerful guilt?
Issy broke into her thoughts. ‘Bridie? Tom asked me to ask if you’ve decided what you’re doing about W
ill’s allotment. Only, he said to tell you it’s not too late to get some stuff planted on it. He has an abundance of plants he says are really hardy and will take well. He won’t need them all, and there’s a few others are willing to help him to set them for you.’
‘That would be good – thanks, Issy. Will did all the ground-work at the back end of last year. It’ll be grand for him to be knowing ’tis planted out for us.’
‘Reet, come on then, lass. Let’s get started on Janet, and then you can away to the hills.’
‘I’ll just be after putting Bridget down for her afternoon nap first. She’ll be out of our way then. Only if she misses her sleep she can be in a mood like they say the little people get in, if they can’t find a mushroom to sit on.’
Issy laughed at this. ‘Eeh, and you say as I have some funny sayings! You can top me, lass, and would win any witty contest we might enter.’
They giggled at this daft notion, and Bridie thought it felt good to have the feel of merriment come into the drab atmosphere of sickness.
‘I’ll get started on getting everything ready while you take her up, love. Go on with you! Little people indeed! You Irish are sommat else in the tales you tell. Aye, and you tell them that often, I reckon as you come to believe in them as truth!’
Leaving the house an hour later, Bridie took a deep breath. She turned into the lane and for a moment had to stand still and just gaze at the beauty around her. Dog roses and black-thorn blossom clothed the hedgerows and filled the air with a sweet, subtle scent. Her mood, already lifted by Issy, soared, and hope seeped into her. Jesus Himself wouldn’t be for taking her Will from her, she was sure of that. The doctor could be wrong. Wasn’t Will a strong man? To be sure he could fight back from this.
These thoughts settled in her, giving her the truth of them and belying what others would have her believe. An urge came into her to skip over the stile and run across the field, to stretch out her limbs, which had for so long only known the short walk to the Irish for her gin. Not that she had to go often, for hadn’t she cut down and only took a drop now and then?
Only once had she ventured further, when a few days ago Seamus had left a message for her to contact him. Hadn’t he been kindness itself on that visit, sympathizing with her plight and saying how he would always help her? But then, didn’t she know he would, and now she wasn’t for believing what she heard about him.
It was warmer than she thought. Beads of sweat stood out on her forehead as she climbed the hill. She could see the boulder, lying just feet away from the beck. She ran the last few yards to it and fell against it, panting for breath. ‘Oh, Eric, ’tis that Mammy is for thinking of paddling in the beck, so she is, just to cool her feet down. But I have some things to talk over with you, so I’ll do that first.’
She sat beside the boulder, going through all of her worries. She felt them lighten with the unburdening of them to her little son. She didn’t hear the tread of a horse until it snorted and its master called out, ‘Well, well, you’re the last person I expected to see up here! Are you all right, Bridie?’
She jumped up. ‘Oh, Mr Harvey – yes, I’ll be after being fine. Issy was for looking after things for a while, so I could take the air and spend some time with me son, as . . .’
‘Your son?’
‘Aye, ’tis that he is buried here under this boulder. They wouldn’t let us bury him in the churchyard, for they were after saying as he had no soul, with him not taking a breath.’
‘I see. So you buried him up here. Well, for one, I am sure he did have a soul; and for two, you couldn’t have chosen a prettier, more peaceful resting place for him.’
She watched him dismount, and her heart thudded. She didn’t know if it was from fear or anticipation, for she was remembering the kiss they’d shared and the looks he’d given her over the years since, as if he was undressing her in his mind. He came over and stood near to her.
‘How are things at home, Bridie?’
‘Oh, they are after saying as my Will won’t last to see the year out, but I’m not for believing them.’ She went on to tell him of her real feelings on the matter of Will. ‘Now Janet, to be sure ’tis her time. ’Tis only when, not if, and the poor soul is for knowing it. It is lucky I am to have the help of Issy – I mean, Isabella.’
‘Yes, it’s good that she took over from her mother in looking after the sick and delivering the babies. I hear she does a good job, and I am sure she does. Look, Bridie, I have to tell you: you really must prepare yourself. Will is very sick. Oh, I’m not saying there isn’t any hope – there is – but you have to face the fact he may not recover.’
‘I know, but sure it is you can bring things about if you dwell on them, and I’m not about to do that.’
‘Well, that is a good outlook. Now what about you, Bridie? How are you coping with it all? I . . .’
The space between them shrank. She could feel the tension surrounding them, and her breath became shallow as desire lit inside her. For hadn’t it been such a long time since Will . . . ? She shook the thought from her mind. Trying to control the urges attacking her, she searched her mind to find something to say, something to break the spell. ‘What is it you are doing up here, Mr Harvey?’
‘Andrew, call me Andrew. I saw you running across the field. I watched you come up here, and I couldn’t resist following, though I had to take the more slanting route. Do we have to talk, Bridie? I think we have more to do than that?’
‘Oh, so you did expect to be finding me here, and you after saying I was the last person . . .’
He swayed towards her. She could feel his breath on her cheek. The touch of his hand on her hair further awakened her. He ran his fingers through it, and let it fall back onto her shoulder. Strands of it licked the heightened feelings of her as it brushed her breast. He followed the flow of it with the back of his smooth hand. ‘Oh, Bridie, I have wanted you for so long.’
His lips reached her neck, and a shiver ran through her, lingering between her legs and lighting up that part of her as if a flame had touched it. She turned her head and his lips found hers. The soft kiss deepened. His tongue sought entrance to her mouth. She gave in to its urgent probing. He tasted nice, clean and fresh. Their tongues danced together. His fingers undid the buttons of her bodice and slid it off her shoulders. She couldn’t resist. She knew in the heart of her she should, but didn’t know how to. No one would be after knowing, she told herself, and wasn’t she yearning to take a man to her, after her enforced celibacy?
The grass accepted her like a down mattress, its lush depths cushioning her naked body. The sun kissed every part of her, tingle-drying the moist parts where he’d licked and sucked her skin.
Kneeling, Andrew discarded his jacket and shirt. She helped him out of his riding breeches, feasting her eyes and hands on what he had to offer her, and trying to calm the anticipation that took the heart of her and denied any resistance.
Joy surged through her as he entered her, tentatively at first, looking into her eyes as if seeking approval. She gave it by wrapping her legs around him, pulling him into her and crying out with the ecstasy that took the very being of her into a place she knew she belonged, as wave after wave of intense pleasure seared through her.
His words and his cries told her of his enjoyment of her. She had so much to give and to take, and she gave herself into forgetting everything but this moment, allowing every peak to wash her whole body in sheer abandonment, until at last she had given her all and relaxed under him, letting him seek his own moment.
When it came to him, her name was on his lips in gasps of deep, throaty whispers as he plunged deeper and deeper into her. ‘Bridie, Bridie . . .’
His sweat dripped onto her face. She put her tongue out to lick it, and giggled as the saltiness of it made her wrinkle her nose.
He laughed down at her, then rolled off. ‘Oh, Bridie, what am I going to do with you? You are a very naughty girl.’
‘Me? Wasn’t I sure it was you who too
k advantage of me, when you followed me up here? And wasn’t I alone and defenceless?’
‘Bridie, I . . . Well, you wanted it – you know you did. You offered it to me with your eyes, your mouth. Everything about you screamed out to me to take you.’
‘Ha, I’m only for teasing you. I was after wanting a man to make love to me this good while.’
‘Oh, any man would have done, then? You little minx. Well, it happened to be me and I’m glad of that, and if you keep fondling me like that I’ll take you again. Bridie, has anyone ever told you, you were made for loving? Come here . . .’
His second taking of her matched his first, which surprised her, for didn’t she find it wasn’t usually so? Giving herself up to the pleasure of it, she drifted for a while, then had a mind to take a more active part, doing things she enjoyed doing. This thought froze in the fear of her as, without warning, the sun disappeared into the shadow falling over them. Before the scream left her throat, the whip curled through the air like a snake. It cracked down across Andrew’s back.
The sting of it, and the shock, caused him to take a breath that Bridie thought he would never release. She somehow managed to get his body off her and got to her feet. ‘Seamus, no. No!’ Her voice hung in the air unbidden.
Seamus raised his arm, his body magnificent, taut and strong. His horse-whip, knotted in many places, was ready to strike again. Jumping at him using her full body weight jarred the pain through her, but did nothing to stop him. He brushed her aside as if she were no more than a feather. The sickening crack and the agony-filled scream were drowned out by Seamus’s words. ‘You fucking bastard! I’ll not rest until you are for taking your last breath, so I won’t. To be sure you’ll never touch my woman – or any other – when I’ve done with you, you dirty, thieving bastard!’