The Branded Man

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by Catherine Cookson


  An oil lamp was hanging outside the entry to the flats, and as he crossed the yard towards it a small group of children came scampering out of the door, to be brought to a halt at sight of the big man in the broad-brimmed hat. Then with little squeals they scattered into the yard.

  When he reached the first landing, Don drew in a deep breath; but on the second he stopped, because not only was he out of breath but he had walked into darkness, illuminated only by the faint light coming from the outside lantern.

  Having ascended the third flight he was pleased to see a glimmer of light given out by a nightlight candle set in a jar.

  For a moment, he stood quietly drawing in deep breaths of the fuggy smelly air, before putting out his hand and knocking gently on the door.

  He was about to knock a second time when it was pulled open and Sarah stood there, dumbfounded and her mouth agape, before exclaiming on a high note, ‘Why! Mr McAlister. What’s brought you up to heaven so soon?’

  He laughed outright as he answered her bantering greeting: ‘The Archangel Gabriel called me up. He said I had to bring you tidings of great joy; to bring a message to a Miss Marie Anne Foggerty.’

  ‘Oh! Well, in that case who would dare to defy the Angel Gabriel? Come in.’

  As she closed the door behind him he stood for a moment in amazement at the brightness and comfort of the room, so much so that he remarked upon it, before he addressed Marie Anne, saying, ‘What a lovely room you have here! Really beautiful. Good evening, Miss …’

  His voice trailed away for he could not say Foggerty, nor could he say Lawson.

  Marie Anne was standing by the side of a chair. There was an enquiring look on her face as she said, ‘Good evening, Mr McAlister.’

  Sarah now put in, ‘Won’t you sit down? But not in my chair: with your weight and size you’ll go through the bottom of it. Here! This one should suit you,’ and she brought from the far wall what he recognised was a Sheraton armchair, but with one very obvious false leg.

  When he sat down very gingerly on the proferred seat, she laughed, saying, ‘Don’t worry; it won’t give way, it’s been well and truly tested.’

  He too laughed as he said, ‘I’ll take your word for it.’

  Seating herself on the edge of her own chair, Sarah said, ‘Have you come to tell us you’ve found work for us both, something refined where she can play the piano and I can waste me time looking after some old lady? But mind you, I’—she now thrust her finger towards him—‘I insist on vetting anyone of that ilk.’

  He did not answer her smile with another, but turned towards Marie Anne, whose look was eager, and he said, ‘I’m sorry I haven’t come to offer you work. I’ve really come to talk to you, Miss …’ again he paused; then looking Marie Anne straight in the face, he said, ‘Lawson.’

  Marie Anne’s mouth dropped open just the slightest; then she seemed to close it with a snap, but she didn’t speak; nor did Sarah make any remark, but she looked from one to the other and waited.

  ‘I recognised you, Miss Lawson, the day we met in the restaurant. Perhaps you won’t remember, but you had encountered me before, and even before that incident I had seen you a number of times from when you were quite young, running like the wind across the fields. I used to think you only needed a slight lift and you could have flown like a bird.’ There was a soft smile on his face now, and he waited for a response from her. But when none came, he said, ‘I know you were puzzled, too, when we first met here. You felt you had seen me before, and you had, because it was I who found you the night you crashed your head against the wall. You were definitely running away from something or someone, and when you partly recovered and saw me you…well, you got a shock and fainted again.’

  When the expression on her face hadn’t changed, he said, ‘You remember?’ and she nodded at him, saying slowly, ‘Yes; yes, I remember now.’ And she did. This is what had bothered her: the moonlight shining on an ordinary face, then a dreadful frightening one taking its place.

  As she stared at him now, she knew what the felt hat and the bandage covered. This was the branded man whom she had heard Fanny mention as if he were an ogre. How awful! Because she had also heard he was a sculptor and a clever, educated man who lived in a cottage along the river bank back home.

  What was she talking about, back home? Well, the place where she had lived. And here he was, come to tell her something about that place. She was sure of it. She said bluntly, ‘Why are you here, Mr McAlister?’

  After staring at her for a moment he rose to his feet and, looking down at her, he said, ‘I am here, Miss Lawson, to tell you that your grandfather and your brother Patrick are at this moment resting in the guest room of the priory.’

  As Marie Anne’s hand went out and groped for the support of a chair, Sarah got up quickly and, going to her, put her arm around her shoulder, saying, ‘There now. There now. It had to come some time.’

  They were all silent. Then Marie Anne, looking at Sarah, said, ‘You knew all the time?’

  ‘Indeed no! I knew nothing of the sort. I’m hearing it for the first time, like yourself. I could never have kept a thing like that to meself. But having said that, it’s the best thing that could have happened to you; I mean, you going back to where you belong.’

  ‘I don’t belong there, Sarah. I’ve told you; and now I’m telling you, Mr McAlister, I can’t go back there. You should never have done this: it will break up the family; my mother will not have me.’

  ‘As far as I understand it, Miss Lawson, your mother has had no say in this matter whatever; and you won’t be going back to your old home, but to The Little Manor, which is being prepared for you and where your grandfather also intends to live permanently. And I can tell you another thing, Miss Lawson: until you decide to return home he will not leave London. Already, he abhors the place and all that he has seen so far, especially of the yard below and this area.’

  ‘He has been here?’ Marie Anne’s face was screwed up in disbelief, but Don nodded at her, saying, ‘Yes; straight from the train he came, for he demanded to see where you were living. Now, speaking personally, as I view him he’s an old man and, this winter, he has already suffered a severe cold. And that was when he was living in clean air. What a few weeks in this atmosphere might do for him, I wouldn’t like to say.’

  Marie Anne now put her hands across her rising belly and almost pityingly said, ‘I can’t show myself to him like this. He always took my side and held me in such high esteem. He and Pat were the only ones who saw any good in me, and now—’ Her head drooped.

  ‘He still holds you in high esteem, because he loves you. You seem to be the only thing in his life that he cares about; and if there’s any blame to be allotted, he blames himself for allowing you to come here in the first place.’

  Addressing Sarah, Marie Anne said, ‘Oh, what am I to do, Sarah?’

  ‘You know damn fine well what you have to do and what you’re going to do. You’re going back now with Mr McAlister and you’re going to see your grandfather and the brother that you’re always yapping about. And tomorrow I’ll have all your things packed up and ready for the road.’

  ‘Oh no, you won’t!’ Marie Anne was on her feet again, all indecision gone. ‘Whatever happens, arrangements have to be made and they’ll take more than a day or so. And what about Annie and her brood?’

  ‘What about them?’ The question came high from Sarah. ‘Aye! What about them? They are my concern, not yours.’

  ‘They’re the concern of both of us; she’s been good to me. And then there are the drawings. I must visit Mr Stokes and tell him I’m leaving here, and…and tell him that I want to keep on sending him the drawings. Oh yes, I do. They are something I’m good at; and I could make a career of it. Yes, I could.’

  ‘All right! All right! All right!’

  ‘Well, I’m going to see him and tell him I could send them to him through the post. And don’t forget he was good to me: he gave me five shillings a drawing.’


  ‘Only when I pushed him up.’

  During this exchange Don had been standing on the side, as it were, his head moving from one to the other.

  ‘Then there’s Mrs Everton. I must go and see her. She was very good about letting me play the piano.’

  Sarah was now standing with her arms akimbo, and she put in sarcastically, ‘And you mustn’t forget, must you? Mr Paddy O’Connell and his Emporium.’

  At this Marie Anne’s head drooped and she held her face between her hands as she muttered, ‘Well, he did set us up here nicely, didn’t he? And yes, I will go and see him. And oh dear me! All this before I meet Grandpa.’

  She was sitting down again, the tears running down her face, but this time they brought no sympathetic gesture from Sarah, who went swiftly up the room and into the bedroom, returning within a minute carrying Marie Anne’s coat, scarf, hat and boots, and saying brusquely, ‘You can stop that now and get into your outdoor clothes, because you’re wastin’ Mr McAlister’s time. And what’s more, I think he’s had enough of your emotions in the last five minutes or so. Now come on.’

  Obediently Marie Anne got to her feet and allowed herself to be helped into her coat, the scarf put around her neck and the hat put into her hands. But there the hat remained and Marie Anne said, ‘You’re coming with me.’

  ‘Oh no, I’m not.’

  ‘Well, then’—the voice came very firm now—‘You’re forever pushing me around, Sarah Foggerty, and telling me what to do or what I haven’t got to do. Now this time I’m telling you, if you don’t come with me, I don’t go.’

  Again there was silence between them until, in a throaty voice, Don said, ‘Miss Foggerty, I would get into your outdoor clothes if I were you.’ …

  Twenty minutes later they were being greeted by Brother Peter in the hall of the priory; but when he went to lead Marie Anne to the sitting room door she turned and looked at Sarah, saying, ‘You’re coming in with me?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘But—’ Marie Anne’s beseeching tone was cut short by Don saying quite firmly, ‘You must do this alone, Miss Lawson; your grandfather would expect it of you.’

  Sarah and Don watched the door being opened and then closed, and from then the only sound that came to them was the high cry of, ‘Grandpa!’ followed by, ‘Oh! Pat,’ and at that, simultaneously they turned about and in a low voice Don said, ‘The Father Prior would like to meet you, I know, and hear more about her background, as only you know it. If you’ll take a seat in here I’ll go and see if he’s available.’

  After he had left her in the small waiting room Sarah sat with her hands pressed tightly between her knees. If she had ever wanted to cry in her life she wanted to cry at this minute: she was asking herself what she was going to do without her, because she had grown to love her as if she were her own daughter, the daughter she’d never had, nor was likely to have. They had been together only about fourteen months, but it could have been fourteen years; it was as if she had taken her out of the cradle. But now, she chastised herself, she must take a back seat in this. It was the best thing, perhaps the only thing that could have happened to the girl, she knew, for she had been secretly worried to death about what they would do when the child came, and they at the top of that house with those crucifying stairs. So, what had happened tonight had happened for the best. God knew what He was doing…But did He? Had He given a thought to the bastard child? It would have been accepted in the flats; but what about the class she was going back to? She was a young lady, a very young lady, and she had been with a man: she wouldn’t be classed fit to enter into society of any kind, even if she were under the protection of her grandfather and all the weight and power he seemed to carry.

  In a way and in this minute, she imagined the girl would have had more happiness in working and bringing up her child in the Courts, if only they’d been able to live on the ground floor and not halfway to heaven.

  They had talked half the night. They had gone to sleep arguing. Sarah was adamant that in no way would she fall in with Marie Anne’s plans, and Marie Anne was adamant that in no way was she going back to Northumberland without her, Grandpa or no Grandpa …

  Now it was ten o’clock the following morning and they were both ready for outdoors, and Sarah had been bidden to be at the Brothers’ house at half-past ten, because Mr Lawson wished to speak to her.

  They were ushered into the sitting room by Brother Peter, and Sarah stood nervously and stiffly aside while the elderly man embraced Marie Anne; then when the younger man approached her, holding out his hand saying, ‘I’m Patrick, Marie Anne’s brother,’ she said, ‘How d’you do, sir?’

  ‘Grandfather,’—Pat was leading Sarah forward towards the old man—‘this is Miss Foggerty, about whom Marie Anne has told you so much.’

  When the elderly man peered at Sarah she looked him straight back in the face, saying, ‘Good day, sir.’

  ‘Good day, Miss Foggerty. Do please take a seat,’ and Emanuel Lawson pointed to where Marie Anne was already seated. Then, seating himself before her, he said, ‘I have much to thank you for, Miss Foggerty. From what Marie Anne tells me, I gather she doesn’t know where she would have been at this moment, had it not been for you; certainly not in comfortable rooms, even if they are very high up, as I understand them to be, and among good friends. And all through your guidance and kindness. She tells me quite firmly and heartlessly’—he now turned a soft glance on Marie Anne—‘that she will not return with me unless you accompany her. Now, now!’ He lifted his hand and his voice changed to a firmer note as he went on, ‘As you know, for the next few months she’ll be in need of a nurse-companion. Now, I am not doing you a favour by asking you to take on this post; we’re just being selfish. We are wanting your services; or at least I am; Marie Anne, I think, requires something more from you, something that she has had all along, for she seems to think you are the only woman who has ever shown her any love. And so, Miss Foggerty, let me hear what you have to say.’

  There was a long pause before Sarah said, ‘What I have to say, sir, is a very deep and sincere thank you for your kindness and your offer, but, as I tried to explain…well’—she gave a half smile here—‘your granddaughter, sir, is very stubborn, I don’t know who she gets it from, but she is, and we talked and practically fought half the night about this. But it’s this way, sir. To put it plainly, I have a sister who lives in Ramsay Court, on the floor below us, and she has ten children. I have always tried to help her, and at this time she is more in need of my help than ever, because her husband has injured his foot and is unable to work, at least for a time. So I feel responsible for her and for the children. Her eldest son, Shane…well, he is very bright but he doesn’t attend school as he should, because he works on coal bagging.’

  He stopped her here by saying, ‘What is coal bagging?’

  ‘Filling sacks with very dusty coal, sir.’

  ‘Oh.’ He nodded at her, then said, ‘Go on.’

  ‘Well, that’s all sir; except that, as I’ve had a little education—I read well and have a good hand at writing—I should like him to have a chance.’

  ‘Yes. Oh yes, I understand you had to write and read all the letters that passed between my daughter-in-law and her half-sister, and thereby you doubtless learned a lot about Marie Anne’s mother.’

  ‘Some, sir.’

  ‘Yes, indeed, some. Well, now.’ He turned to Pat and asked brusquely, ‘Well, what’ve you got to say about all this?’

  ‘Nothing more than what we discussed earlier, Grandfather.’

  ‘And you’re willing to leave the big house and come and live at The Little Manor?’

  ‘Oh Pat, no.’ Marie Anne was on her feet now and moving towards Pat. Taking his hand, she said, ‘You can’t do that, Pat. Oh no!’

  ‘Why not? I am not happy there; you know I’m not, no more than you were.’

  ‘But she’ll…she’ll hate me more than ever.’

  ‘Putting it bluntly, dear, she coul
dn’t possibly.’

  Marie Anne’s head sank, and she said, ‘No, perhaps you’re right there.’

  ‘It’s only what she’s asked for, and for a long time, and when you get home you will know there’s going to be other changes, too; but that we’ll leave for the present. Let us finish with Sarah’s problem.’ And looking towards Sarah, he said, ‘Grandfather is thinking of setting up a running household in The Little Manor, a house further along in the grounds and where he used to live at one time with my grandmother. Lately he has been living in The Manor itself and just staying odd days along there, and so he kept on only three servants all told, two old retainers and a young girl. Maggie and Barney Makepeace have looked after him for a long time, Katie is the maid. But since it is now to be an occupied family home, we shall want more staff. Grandfather means to take some from the main house but, as he said, the staff has to be ruled whether it’s large or small and we will need a housekeeper, and from what Marie Anne tells me, you know everything about running a house. You had to do it for your mother’s sister for a long time; and Marie Anne also tells me’—he smiled now—‘you’re very careful about money, even cheese-paring.’

  ‘Oh, miss!’ Sarah had turned to look at Marie Anne, and Marie Anne said, ‘Well, you are; you’re too careful for words.’

  ‘Needs must, miss.’

  ‘Oh yes, that’s an old saying,’ put in Emanuel Lawson: ‘Needs must when the devil drives.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’ Sarah was smiling at him. ‘And the faster he goes the more he charges.’

  That anyone, especially a servant, should dare cap his grandfather’s sayings brought a tight smile to Pat’s face. It could be seen it had left that particular gentleman a little nonplussed.

  He now went on, ‘Marie Anne tells me that you have helped to support your sister financially for some time.’

  Rounding on Marie Anne now, Sarah said indignantly, ‘You haven’t left anything out, have you?’

 

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