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The Branded Man

Page 36

by Catherine Cookson


  Alone with her child, she could hug her; she could talk to her and tell her she wasn’t sorry she had been born, and that she loved her, and always would.

  She had not heard the front doorbell ring and when the tap came on the sitting room door and Carrie, pushing it open, said, ‘Mr McAlister to see you, ma’am,’ she was reminded she had become ma’am to the staff since the baby was born. As he entered the room, she hitched herself onto the edge of the couch, saying, ‘Is anything wrong?’

  ‘No; what could be wrong?’ He walked slowly towards her; then stood looking down on the baby as he said, ‘This is the first time I’ve seen you nursing her since you came home.’

  ‘It’s because I don’t get a chance. There’s a new routine in the house, which I don’t think is going to last; in fact, I’m sure it’s not. Do sit down.’

  He drew up a chair to the side of the couch, then said, ‘I promised Sarah to pick up a package to take to Annie on my next trip up to town. I feel sure, in this case, it’s only a means to an end, because it’ll be some money I have to carry, and she could send it, as she usually does, by postal order; but I think she wants news of how the family is faring, especially, to put it in her own words, how the young-uns are rigged out.’

  ‘Well,’ Marie Anne put in now, ‘if I know anything about Annie, after food she’ll have spent whatever she gets on the children.’

  ‘She must send most of her wages back there, I think.’

  ‘No, not all; she sends half. The rest goes into her bank.’

  ‘May I hold her?’

  ‘Yes, yes; of course.’

  He lifted the child from her lap and laid it in the crook of his arm, and after a moment he said, ‘Have you finally decided on a name?’

  ‘That was a foregone conclusion. We’ve tried everything, but we’ve decided it’s just going to be my name reversed, Anne Marie.’ She smiled at him now, saying, ‘It sounds better than Marie Anne anyway, don’t you think, or even Mary Ann?’

  ‘I’m not going to answer that question; she might feel hurt.’

  They laughed together; and then he said, ‘It’s your birthday next week and I’ll be away.’

  ‘Yes; yes, it’s my birthday next week. If I remember rightly we’ve been into birthdays before, haven’t we, Don?’

  ‘Yes, we have.’

  ‘And it still remains the same. I’ll be seventeen and no younger and you’ll be thirty-three and no older. But the same difference remains.’

  ‘As you say, madam, as you say. But why I mentioned your birthday again was because I have a present for you, but it’s in the making and you’ll not get it for some time.’

  ‘It’s a piece of your work?’ she asked softly.

  ‘Yes, it’s a piece of my work.’

  ‘That’s kind of you.’

  ‘Oh, yes’—his head moved widely—‘very kind of me, so kind of me.’ Then, his tone changing, he said, ‘Don’t give me replies like that; it’s the type of answer you would have given had it been a box of chocolates.’

  Now her face was straight as she said, ‘You are taking what I said the wrong way. I’ve noticed lately you’ve been doing that, putting a different meaning to the things I say.’

  ‘Have I?’

  ‘Yes, you have, Mr McAlister, and I don’t like it.’

  ‘Oh well, then, I must pull myself together, and you must tell me how I must address you in the future.’

  ‘There you go again. What is wrong with you? You’ve been seeing Dr Ridley; is it something physical?’

  His head went up and he laughed as he replied, ‘No, my dear, it’s nothing physical. But how do you know I’m seeing Dr Ridley? As regards my physical health, I’m perfectly fit.’

  ‘People talk; and when a doctor’s gig comes to take you for a ride, there must be a purpose behind it.’

  His lips went into a quizzical smile: ‘You’re right there, madam,’ he said; ‘there is a purpose behind it and all will be revealed in good time. Until then…we’ll change the subject.’ And he looked down at the child and remarked, ‘Just look at her. She says she’s very happy to know that I’m to be her godfather.’

  When he looked up, they stared at each other, no smile on their faces; but Marie Anne’s was asking herself, why, when she felt as she did about him, should she at times, such as this, have the urge to lash out at him with her tongue? while he was thinking, I can’t stand much more of this. While I’m in London I’ll just have to sort myself out; her nearness is getting too much for me; I’ll break through one day and scare her to death. Anyway, what is going to be the final outcome? The new face is still but a mask and there remains the hideousness beneath. And another thing: if any one of them knew what was in my mind concerning her, I’d be shown the door. I know that.

  Suddenly he almost thrust the baby into her arms, saying, ‘I must be going.’

  When Marie Anne went to rise he did not put out a hand to help her, and so she pushed herself up with one hand while cradling the child with her other forearm.

  ‘I hope you enjoy your stay,’ she said.

  He turned and looked at her; then answered quietly, ‘Yes; I’ll enjoy it in a way, for I always like seeing the Brothers.’

  At the door now, he turned fully around and said softly, ‘The point is, I won’t be able to stay away too long.’

  Marie Anne stood staring at the closed door; then, her head bent over the child, she muttered, ‘He’ll never speak out, never! And I can’t, for I’m half afraid he might return to the Brothers. In any case, were I to come into the open, imagine the effect on Grandpa, on Father, and Pat, and Sarah…oh yes, Sarah.’

  Eleven

  Don had been away for nine days. His train had been due in Durham at about three o’clock in the afternoon; but here it was seven o’clock, and he had not yet put in an appearance. Emanuel’s annoyance was definitely evident when he banged his spoon into his empty soup plate, saying, ‘Well, damn him! We did it for the best. It was the only way we could think of thanking him.’

  After gathering up the soup plates from the rest of the family, Sarah was heard to mutter, ‘He could be overcome.’

  ‘What’s that, Foggerty, you’re muttering?’

  ‘I was just thinkin’ to meself, sir.’ She now uncovered a large meat dish holding a shoulder of lamb and, carrying it to the table, she placed it before the old man, who then demanded, ‘Well, what were you thinking to yourself, woman?’

  ‘I said, sir, he might be overcome.’

  ‘Overcome?’ He screwed up his face at her.

  ‘Yes sir; it isn’t everybody who can say “thank you” easily. They know what they want to say but they find it difficult bringing it out.’

  The old man stared at this Irish woman, this card of an Irish woman. He’d never had much time for the Irish, although he found them to be good workers when they were well directed, but put some money in their pocket and you mightn’t see them for days.

  As she passed behind his chair his head turned and his gaze followed her to the sideboard, only to be checked by his son saying jokingly, ‘Father, I like my lamb hot.’

  ‘Oh. Oh do you? Well, why didn’t you start cutting it?’

  ‘Well, if I’d done that, I know what would have happened; I would certainly have been put in my place as regards your fitness to go on carving.’

  Marie Anne, Evelyn and Pat laughed and the old man was about to come back with some retort when, instead, he held up his hand and said, ‘Shush! a minute, the lot of you. Quiet! That was the doorbell.’

  As they waited Sarah slipped towards the door and opened it, and now they all could hear the distant voice saying, ‘I’ll wait in the sitting room, thank you.’

  ‘You’ll do no such thing! You’ll come in here this minute!’ and the old man’s roar rattled the glasses on the table. When Don appeared in the doorway saying, ‘I’m…I’m sorry, but I’ll…’ Emanuel continued to bellow, ‘Shut up! Come in and sit yourself down.’ He pointed to a seat at the botto
m of the table, next to Nathaniel; then addressed Sarah, saying, ‘Set another place, and be sharp about it.’

  After Don had sat down he looked from one to the other, then drew in a long breath before he said, ‘I…I was held up. Oh, dear me!’ He put his elbows on the table and drooped his head into his hands, and so tight was he pressing on his cheek that he seemed to push the mask further onto his face rather than away from it towards his ear, and very quietly, he said, ‘The little I did for you…and were I to go on doing it for the rest of my life it would never…never be worth all that, all that kindness. All the effort it must have taken to transform that cottage into a beautiful home. I…I may receive other surprises in my life, but never one greater than…than when I approached that once familiar place. I could see it was different, but why? How?’ He took his hands from his face now, but continued to look down on the empty plate; then he went on, ‘I saw what had been done outside, to the outbuildings too, and…and when I opened the door I…I couldn’t enter; I stood leaning against the doorpost like…like someone drunk. To put my feet on that carpet seemed a sin.

  ‘The sitting room and the kitchen are so transformed I can’t believe how it was possible to do it; and with such taste and in so short a time. But…but, oh, the bedroom!’ He now looked directly at Marie Anne and his smile widened as he said, ‘The Brothers would have me on my knees for a week in penance if I had even dared to think of anything like it.’ Then turning back to the old man, he said, ‘And the bed. Oh the bed! I don’t expect to sleep tonight because I’ve slept on boards ever since I can remember, and Marie Anne has had a taste of them.’

  Again he was holding his head, but only his brow now, and his voice trembled as he said, ‘What can I say to you good people, because never, never in my life have I received such a gift and such kindness. The Brothers were kind in their way, but there is kindness…and kindness and yours is overwhelming.’

  ‘Nonsense! Nonsense!’ This was Emanuel speaking again. ‘Well, anyway, you’ve said your piece, so would you mind if we eat?’ and straight away said to Sarah, ‘Bestir yourself and send those vegetables to the table.’

  Sarah made no immediate reply, but motioned to the girls; then she herself took up the gravy boat and moved around the table with it. But when, lastly, she came to Don, she said politely, ‘Good evening, Mr McAlister,’ and Don replied with equal politeness but with a twinkle in his eye, ‘Good evening, Miss Foggerty;’ then in a very soft tone Sarah said, ‘I’m so glad you like your house, but you wouldn’t have enjoyed it in its present state for long if I hadn’t pointed out to them all the cracked tiles round the chimney pot, and they’ll swear…’ only to be interrupted by the sound of someone spluttering, and the head of the table coughing as if he were about to choke; but above it all, Marie Anne’s voice was heard in the form of a polite request, one which could have been taken for a command, as she said, ‘Would you see to the dessert, Sarah, please, and in the meantime we’ll see to ourselves.’

  And ushering the girls before her, Sarah left the room.

  Rubbing his face with his napkin, Emanuel muttered, ‘Something’ll have to be done with that woman; you’ll have to see to it, Marie Anne.’

  ‘I’ll do nothing of the sort, Grandpa. If she has to be checked then you’ll have to do it yourself, because you’ve encouraged her right from the beginning, and you ask for everything she hits you with.’

  ‘I didn’t ask for that about the roof.’

  ‘No,’ put in Pat now as he wiped his wet lids; ‘but the funny thing about it is she’s nearly always right in what she says’—and he now nodded to Don—‘and she was then. Nobody had thought about the tiles, and as you know, they were in a bad way.’

  ‘Oh yes, I know that.’

  ‘Well, she’s right. In no time you would have had the water in.’

  ‘I can’t believe it, you know.’

  Emanuel turned to his son saying, ‘What can’t you believe, James?’

  ‘Well, for instance, I can’t believe in the atmosphere here compared with that at the dinner table at The Manor.’

  It was at this point that Evelyn turned to Don, saying, ‘I suppose you’ve heard from the Hardings that I confiscated nearly all your old furniture?’ But before Don could answer, Nat put in, ‘Not quite confiscated, Don; we put it in the stable until you could decide which pieces you would like to keep.’

  ‘Take what you want,’ said Don. ‘Any additions of any kind to those rooms would now be an intrusion. You know, the Hardings were waiting for my reaction, too; Sally had a big tea all lined up. That was why I was late; they, too, have been so kind. She had made a large cake for me with “Welcome Home” iced on it.’

  ‘Did you like it?’ asked Evelyn.

  ‘Yes; it was very nice.’

  ‘Just very nice?’—there was a note of indignation in Evelyn’s voice—‘I had a hand in that cake.’

  ‘Oh well, then,’ said Don with mock heartiness, ‘I must say it was simply delicious; I’ve never tasted anything like it before.’

  Amid the ensuing laughter, Marie Anne asked in some sincere surprise, ‘You helped to make the cake, Evelyn?’

  ‘Yes, I did. Let me tell you, miss, I’ve graduated from mucking out cow byres, cleaning pig sties, and feeding swill. I’ve now moved on to the culinary arts.’

  ‘I don’t believe you’ve ever been closer to a pig than to hear its grunts.’

  ‘You don’t? Well, you come over with me tomorrow and I’ll give you the pleasure of partnering me in my chores.’

  When, of a sudden, her grandfather laid his hand on Evelyn’s, she became silent as did the others, because the action showed commendation that no words could have conveyed.

  It was Don who cut through the air of slight embarrassment by saying, ‘Farmer Harding tells me you never succeed with a pig unless you can get it to stand still while talking to it, by which time you’ve likely mesmerised yourself.’

  As fresh laughter ensued, Marie Anne thought, That was such a nice gesture of Grandpa’s; it so touched her she could have wept: recently, there had been a number of occasions when she herself had felt the urge to make a similar gesture.

  Don now caught her attention by asking, ‘Did you have a good birthday party?’ and she answered, ‘Well, I wouldn’t say it was a party; more a family tea, and we spent most of the time talking and arranging the christening.’

  ‘Oh; you’ve set a date, then?’

  ‘It’ll be in a fortnight’s time.’

  ‘Oh! A fortnight. As soon as that?’

  There had been a surprised note in Don’s voice and which was reflected in his expression and caused Pat to put in quickly, ‘You’re going away again, then?’

  ‘No. No; I’ll be here for the christening. Yes; yes, indeed.’ And when he laughed he had all their attention, but his next words left them more puzzled when he said with some emphasis, ‘Oh, I wouldn’t miss the christening for anything.’

  Twelve

  It was a week before the christening was to take place. James had alighted from the carriage to greet his father.

  ‘It’s a beautiful day, Father, isn’t it?’ he said.

  ‘Yes. One of the rare ones, soft and warm. I can really breathe in this air; and it’s lovely to walk outside without having to be happed up against wind and weather.’

  ‘You’re not as happed up at times as you should be, with that chest of yours.’

  ‘Never mind my chest; anything new?’

  ‘Not about business, no. But I am intrigued by one of two letters I received today.’ And he withdrew from his pocket a square envelope which he handed to his father with the words, ‘See how it’s addressed: Miss Marie Anne Lawson, c/o The Manager, Lawson Shipping Company, Newcastle, England.’

  Emanuel glanced at him, saying, ‘It’s a Spanish stamp.’

  ‘Yes; that’s what intrigued me. Where is she now?’

  ‘She went out for a walk with Sarah; the baby was sleeping.’

  ‘There’s
some other news, too. They’ve bought the ranch, out there in Canada. David says, that’ll put some distance between them; three hundred miles, I think. But by what he says it can’t be nearly enough; it seems that Vincent has become impossible to live with. He says Veronica is a changed woman from what he remembers of her; he doesn’t know how she puts up with Vincent. She has much more patience than he remembers when he was at home. Anyway, our letters have likely crossed; I had told her my solicitor says I can get a divorce in three years’ time by doing nothing, because she left me, I didn’t leave her.’

  ‘Well, that’s a blessing, and in no disguise,’ said his father; ‘and you can now plan your life ahead whether it be sooner or later. Ah! Here they are, returning now,’ and he turned towards the approaching figures.

  When Marie Anne and Sarah came abreast of them, Marie Anne said, ‘Isn’t it a glorious day, Father?’ and he answered, ‘We’ve just been discussing that. By the way,’ James now handed her the letter he still held in his hand, saying, ‘that came to the office for you, my dear.’

  Marie Anne seemed to hesitate before she took the proffered envelope from him. For a moment, she stared down at it before raising her gaze to the two men, then turned to look fully at Sarah.

  She appeared to be about to speak; but when she did it was as if she were ignoring the letter: ‘We could do with a cool drink,’ she said. ‘I’ll be glad to get my hat and dustcoat off. Why one must always wear a hat in the open air I shall never be able to understand.’ And turning abruptly, she left the two men and went into the house, followed by Sarah …

 

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