Dickie (Feeney Family Sagas Book 4)

by Sheelagh Kelly

  This one didn’t blush, but drew on her cigarette and eyed him through the haze. Belle had the urge to flirt too; a new experience for her. She felt both anger and amusement at the same time for the man who had provoked it.

  ‘In fact, I have great admiration for you in many ways, Belle.’ She asked him why. ‘Oh … your Christian activities for one.’

  ‘Christian?’ She frowned.

  ‘Taking in other people’s mistakes an’ …’

  ‘You’re referring to the children?’

  ‘Yes, an’ those ye want to help in Africa. You’re a very compassionate lady.’

  She simply laughed and puckered her lips around the cigarette again. He laughed too, and asked what he’d said that was so funny. She answered with a shake of head and studied him unblinkingly for a long time. Under her stare, Dickie had the unusual sensation of having a woman make him feel uncomfortable. To cover this, he leaned forward and ground the cigarette into the ashtray. It broke her concentration. She too stubbed out her cigarette and when she sat back it was to gaze into mid-air.

  After a span of silence, she made a weird comment. ‘Sometimes … sometimes, I loathe and despise people.’

  Dickie looked bemused. ‘But ye do so much to help em.

  ‘Not because I like them.’

  He chuckled. ‘Then why bother?’

  ‘To stop them from destroying each other,’ said Belle. ‘To make their offspring into decent human beings. Educate them so that when they grow up they won’t spend their time putting other people into concentration camps – that’s what they’re doing in South Africa,’ she explained. ‘And all under the British flag. It made me feel ashamed.’

  ‘I don’t know much about the cause,’ said Dickie. ‘But surely in a war …’

  ‘These aren’t just soldiers we’re talking about; they’re women and children. I’m not so concerned about the women, they’re a tough lot and they’ve brought half of it on themselves by smuggling weapons to their men, but the children have no say in the matter. They’re rounded up in a frenzy of politics and allowed to rot.’

  Dickie showed an interest he did not really feel. ‘From starvation?’

  ‘Partly. I’m told they receive the same rations as our soldiers – which isn’t saying much of course, the Army never did overfeed its men. But no, it’s disease that’s claiming the majority of them, having to be cooped up together like pigs.’ Dickie asked what she planned to do about it. ‘There’s little I can do except raise funds. I see no point in going back to South Africa where I’m banging my head against a wall. I might as well be here organising relief parcels.’ She added in mock officiousness, ‘I shall be asking all the members of this family to dig deeply, of course.’

  ‘Oh, naturally I’ll do everything I can,’ promised Dickie and seeking his wallet, provided her with a substantial contribution. After she had taken it with thanks, he asked, ‘Well, does that prove how willing I am to be a father?’

  She replied like a schoolmarm, ‘Good gracious, you’ll have to do more than flash your wallet!’

  ‘And so I will!’ he vouched theatrically. ‘I’ll prove it to ye when I drive ye home. Ye’ll see how the kids like me.’

  Belle folded the money into a square and said whimsically, ‘My mother doesn’t seem to like you very much.’

  He did not deny this statement, but after a moment of silence, asked, ‘Has she ever told ye about me?’

  ‘A little, but what I find puzzling is that it conflicted with the information she gave me a moment ago; I was always led to believe that you were some sort of hero.’

  ‘Ah, that was when I was dead,’ supplied Dickie. ‘Now that I’m resurrected I’m the swine again.’ After a soft laugh he became pensive. ‘Ye know, I always had the feelin’ right from being very small that your mother resented me, as if I’d taken something that was hers. God knows what it was.’

  ‘And when did you become the cheat, the liar and the womaniser?’ asked Belle.

  ‘Oh, tried and convicted, am I?’

  Belle made an elegant gesture. ‘I’m granting you the right of reply, Uncle.’

  The skin around Dickie’s eyes crinkled. ‘Ah well, I suppose I was a bit of a bad lad in me youth. But as ye can behold,’ he tugged at his greying hair, ‘that was a long time ago. Ye see, your mother forgets that twenty-six years have gone by. She doesn’t know me as I am now.’ He fixed penetrating eyes on his niece. ‘You, on the other hand, not having met me before, have the privilege of making up your own mind.’

  Belle did not flinch under the stare, her own eyes amused. ‘Oh, I will.’

  Dickie held her gaze smilingly, then looked thoughtful. ‘Fred and his sisters aren’t very much alike, are they?’

  ‘That’s because they all have different fathers.’

  He laughed. ‘Their mother was a pro?’

  His indelicacy did not seem to bother her. ‘No … but she’s a very generous sort.’

  Dickie looked concerned now. ‘She isn’t dead then?’ This might affect his plans to adopt.

  Belle distorted her mouth. ‘No, and I shouldn’t really be making fun of her. Her name’s Ann. She’s thirty-five but has the mind of a child – is totally incapable of looking after herself, let alone offspring. Until recently her own mother had been caring for them all and doing an admirable job, but she’s a sick old woman and Ann takes more looking after than Freddie and the girls put together. So, when she sneaked out and got into the family way yet again … her mother felt unable to cope any longer and put her in the Workhouse. She did try to continue looking after the children for a time, but her health deteriorated and she could see that if she didn’t do something about it then the children would be taken into the Workhouse, too. Living just up the road she was familiar with our aims and so …’ ”

  Dickie grazed on the information for a while. ‘With the mother being loco, is there any chance o’ the kids … ?’

  ‘She didn’t start out as an imbecile!’ snapped Belle. ‘She was quite normal until some fool ran over her head with a cart.’

  Dick said he had heard the children talk about their grandmother and asked if she ever came to see them. Belle told him she did. ‘Would there be any trouble from her if we wanted to adopt them?’

  ‘Not from a legal standpoint. She’s signed their guardianship over to me.’ Belle saw his face relax. ‘So, you only have me to contend with.’ Her gimlet eye warned that this would be no easy task.

  A glance at the clock told her she should be getting back for the children’s lessons. ‘Right, Uncle, enough dalliance. I believe you mentioned a lift home?’

  Playing the gallant, Dick made a circle of his arm, guiding Belle to the automobile. Dusty saw them from the bedroom window and was bolstered by the sight; enough to think of rushing down to accompany them. Then she saw the way Belle was gazing into Dickie’s face. A wife’s presence would obviously be superfluous.

  * * *

  Belle gave one of her rare smiles as the children made a fuss of her uncle. ‘You certainly didn’t lie about them being fond of you.’

  ‘You wound me, Belle!’ He faked offence. ‘I never lie.’ Picking up Faith, he took Julia by the other hand and followed his niece through to the parlour. The next half hour was devoted to proving what a good father he would make, telling the children jokes and stories. When Belle said they really must get some work done, he showed what a wrench it was for him to leave by hugging and kissing the girls and even patting Freddie’s lank hair. Ordering them to have their books ready for her return and pleading with the nursemaid to cork the baby’s howling mouth, Belle went with her uncle to the door.

  Dickie leaned on the jamb and ran his eyes over her. ‘What’s it to be, then? Do we get Faith, Hope and Chattery?’

  She held his eyes. ‘You’re determined I’m going to make up my mind today, aren’t you?’

  ‘An’ why not? Isn’t two hours in my company enough to make an impression – if ye say no I’ll commit suicide.’
He flashed his teeth.

  ‘I think I have your measure.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘You don’t like Freddie, do you?’

  He was startled, having come to believe he had won her over. ‘How can ye say that when I’ve just spent half an hour spouting all my good tales to him?’

  ‘I’ll compliment you on your performance; it was very good … if a little forced.’

  ‘But they like me!’

  ‘Oh, I agree they do. They also like the coalman because he lets them ride on his horse and the woman who brings the milk because she conjures toffee from her ear, but that doesn’t mean I’d allow them to go and live with either.’

  ‘Listen, ye haven’t had a proper chance to speak to Dusty yet. She’s marvellous – she’ll convince ye.’

  ‘It wouldn’t matter if she were the best mother in the world – those children are not going out of this house until I’m positive they’ll have a stable home.’

  ‘Why don’t ye try Joseph an’ Mary?’ muttered her uncle sarcastically, then tried again. ‘Look, don’t decide now. Let me take ye out to dinner an’ we can discuss it more intimately.’

  ‘You’re too frivolous, Uncle Richard.’

  He stared at her. Suddenly this took on an extra dimension. It wasn’t simply that he had to have those children to please his wife, but that he had to master Belle. He donned his hat at a defiant angle. ‘Can I ask ye something, Belle? What makes you so bloody special that ye feel ye have the right to run people’s lives for them? I’m not talking about me, but about those kids. What makes ye think that you know better than they do in their choice of parents?’

  She merely smiled. ‘I must tell you than I abhor bad language … and now I really must say goodbye, Uncle Dickie.’ She was about to shut the door, but he put on an imploring face. ‘Drop the Uncle.’

  ‘Why – don’t you care for the responsibility of a niece?’ she asked flippantly. ‘If you don’t then you’ll hardly be fitted to cope with parenthood, will you? Until Saturday.’ She closed the door in his face.

  Seething, Dickie strode to where he had parked the car, beating the air with every swing of his cane. He was bending over the starting handle when a cry of, ‘Uncle Dickie!’ brought his head round. The sight of Frederick produced an oath, ‘Oh, shit,’ but he waited for the boy to run up. ‘What d’you want? Your Aunt Belle’ll be mad if she catches you out.’

  Freddie sprawled on the car’s bonnet. ‘Aren’t you and Aunt Dusty taking us out today?’ When Dick replied negatively, the boy asked why.

  ‘’Cause …’ Dickie sought for a reason, glaring at the child. Fred knuckled his snub nose, regarding him with anxiety. Even with the impetigo healed, he was no picture. Christ, what a repulsive little sod you are, thought Dick. Why the hell my niece is being so choosy beats me. She ought to be thankful that anyone wants to take the boy, there’d be few volunteers. ‘’Cause your Aunt Belle says not!’

  ‘But you’re still going to be my new dad, aren’t you?’

  ‘Just get back home!’ Dick gave the boy a shove. ‘On second thoughts, I’ll take ye; show madam just how wrong she is.’ Cupping a rough hand round Freddie’s skull, he propelled him forward. A sharp series of raps brought Sally to the door. Dickie elbowed his way in, shoving the boy ahead of him. ‘There y’are!’ he told a surprised Belle. ‘See how much he thinks of me? See how responsible I am? We coulda swanned off, the pair of us, but I knew how worried ye’d be so I brought him right home – though he was devilish keen to go with me, I can tell ye.’

  Belle gave a gracious inclination of her head; it was clearly a mocking gesture rather than an appreciative one. ‘That was most conscientious of you, Uncle,’ she said as if to a pupil. Dickie left.

  * * *

  Dusty had been sitting at the window of their room awaiting his return. When the car trundled up the drive she hurried down to meet him in the hall. ‘Did you enjoy yourself?’

  The tone made him wince. ‘D’ye mind if I take me coat off first?’ He did so, then headed for the drawing room.

  ‘Upstairs!’ Dusty picked up her skirts and began to climb. ‘Your mother’s in there. I don’t want anyone butting in.’ When they were in private, she folded her arms. ‘Well, what did she have to say?’

  Dickie sat on the bed. ‘Nothing of any import.’

  ‘And it took all morning to say it? Were the children even mentioned at all?’

  ‘Of course they were! What d’ye think I’ve been doing there?’

  For answer, she thrust her tongue into her cheek. ‘So, are we to be allowed to adopt them?’ Her husband told her Belle was thinking about it. ‘Maybe I can aid her decision when I go round tonight.’

  ‘That’s not such a good idea, Dust. She isn’t expecting to see us till Saturday.’

  ‘Then she’ll have a nice surprise, won’t she?’

  * * *

  If the surprise was pleasant, Belle didn’t show it when she answered their knock that evening. ‘Oh … I’m just bathing the girls.’ There came the sound of merry splashing along the passage. With an impatient glance over her shoulder, Belle decided to let the visitors in. ‘Would you mind waiting in the front parlour with the boys until I’ve got them dressed. It’s only the younger ones, I won’t be long.’

  ‘I’ll help,’ said her eager aunt, as Dick entered the front room to a loud welcome from the boys. Belle told her there was no need, but Dusty was already rolling up her sleeves. On coming across the roomful of naked female flesh, she covered her face in pretend shock, ‘Ooh, four bare gollies! My goodness gracious,’ and whipped a towel from the fireguard to swaddle the dripping Julia. Sally, lifting Faith out of the zinc bath, smiled a welcome. She had come to like her employer’s aunt, particularly for the way she had reduced the workload in Belle’s absence. Dusty bundled the little girl onto her knee and patted her dry, singing all the while.

  ‘Look at this water on the carpet!’ complained Belle. She grabbed the last girl, Lucy, out of the long bath and began to rub her vigorously with a towel. Dusty thought she was much too rough on the delicate skin. She also wondered how the children could hold such genuine affection for this woman – they behaved so warmly towards her. Dusty could only think that they were more perceptive than she was.

  After all were dressed in nightgowns, Belle and the nursemaid lugged the bath away whilst the other woman ran a gentle comb through the damp locks. On returning, Belle announced that they would never get the girls to bed at this rate and, grabbing a brush, hauled it roughly but effectively over screeching heads until all were ready for bed. Dickie was allowed in then, to tell the children a story over cocoa.

  When, looking exhausted, the nursemaid went off to wash the cups, Dusty asked if she might accompany the children upstairs to tuck the little ones in. Belle was all too grateful for someone to save her legs and in her aunt’s absence sat by the fireside to chat to Dickie.

  Having kissed each one and supervised prayers, Dusty came down to find her husband sitting very close to Belle and the pair of them enjoying some joke. Temper flared, but reminding herself that she had been the one to prescribe her husband’s charm as an antidote to Belle’s obstinacy, she bit her tongue and sat down. For the next half an hour she conversed quite politely, until she could no longer stand the looks that passed between Belle and her husband. Consulting the clock, she said that they should be getting back for dinner and, fury thumping at her temples, she led the way out.

  * * *

  The couple had been gone an hour when Belle received another caller. Condemning himself for the unfounded jealousy he had entertained earlier, Brian arrived carrying a bottle of good wine.

  Belle eyed the label approvingly. ‘You haven’t got some illegal trade set up, have you? You’re usually moaning about having no cash.’

  He kissed her and hung his coat on a peg in the passage.

  ‘It was a sacrifice, but your grandmother’s idea of a welcome home party got me to thinking along the same lines.’
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  Belle asked him to uncork the bottle and put it on the sideboard while she went to the kitchen. ‘I’m sorry but there’s nothing very special to go with it.’

  Brian sorted noisily through the contents of a drawer for the corkscrew. ‘I didn’t realise you had such a low opinion of yourself, dear.’

  ‘I was referring to the food. I wasn’t sure you’d be coming.’

  ‘I said I would, didn’t I?’ He gripped the bottle between his knees and employed the corkscrew.

  ‘You said you might, and it is nine o’clock. I’d almost grown sick of waiting.’ She finished bringing the food in, and made loud lament as the cork popped out, bringing half the wine with it. ‘You’d make an excellent wine waiter, Bri.’ She used a napkin to mop first at his trousers and boots, then at the carpet. ‘I don’t think we’ll wait for it to breathe, do you? It’s on its last legs already.’ They both sat down.

  ‘Ooh, you are a critic, Belle.’ He smiled and poured the wine. ‘Tell me what you think.’ She sipped it and said it would pass, then laughed and told him it was excellent.

  As they ate, she spoke of her aunt and uncle’s visit. ‘You know, I asked the children just what it was they liked about Uncle and his wife, expecting them to give some deep meaningful reason for wanting them as parents. Julia said she liked Aunt Dusty because, “She wears nice clothes”, and Uncle Dickie, because “he sings rude songs while he’s driving the car”.’ Brian showed amusement then, trying to make his voice casual, asked what she herself had though about Uncle Dickie. She inserted a forkful of chicken. ‘He’s one of those infuriating people whom you can’t help liking even though he is full of himself.’

  Brian’s fork toyed with his food, ‘Yes … I had the feeling that you were pretty impressed with him.’