But, yet again, she was rerouted from Clancy’s Yard to Duke of York Passage and another series of doors to knock upon.
‘Mother Flaherty?’ said the woman who answered Erin’s first knock. ‘Aye, she lives over there with her daughter Norah. Yer’ll not find her in though, she’ll’ve gone for a bevvy.’
Erin, issuing effusive thanks, told her she would call and say hello to Norah. ‘Though she’ll probably not recognise me.’
Tentatively she tapped on the door the woman had indicated. A child of about ten answered. ‘Hello, is your mammy in?’
‘Mammy, there’s a lady at the door,’ called the child.
‘Tell her to leave her calling card, I’m not receivin’ visitors today.’ The voice was shortly followed by a middle-aged woman who wiped her hands on her apron and offered hasty apologies. ‘Oh, Lord, I’m sorry, ma’am! I thought the child was having me on. What can I be doing for ye? Have ye taken a wrong turning?’
‘Norah, don’t ye recognise me?’ asked Erin.
The woman still smiled, but paused in wiping her hands and cocked her head. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t think…’
‘It’s Erin, Erin Feeney.’
The smile evaporated. ‘Oh, come slumming have yese? An’ what might ye be wanting here?’ Erin’s face fell. ‘Come to flaunt your fancy clothes, have ye? Come to show us what ’tis like to be well off?’ She leaned forward, baring her teeth. ‘I don’t know how you’ve got the nerve to come here after the way ye treated my mother.’
‘Norah, it wasn’t…’
‘Saved up for ages for that wedding gift she did an’ y’all looked down your noses at her, couldn’t wait for her to stop embarrassing ye.’
‘Norah, please give me a chance to explain.’
‘Oh aye, just bide there while I fetch me children an’ let ye explain to them why your daughter’s all poshed up in fancy clothes while they have to go to bed wi’ no supper. Explain to them why the likes o’ your people saw fit to sack my Joseph while your husband probably drives round in a fancy gig, smoking a fat cigar which cost more than I spend on a day’s food…’
‘If I’d thought my visit would upset ye so much…’ began Erin, then spoke to Belle. ‘Come on, dear, we’ll go now.’
‘Aye, go on! Back to your bloody house with a hundred rooms an’ your piles o’ food. Don’t spare a thought that I’m going to have to feed eight bairns with no man in work. Go on! Back to your own kind, we don’t want ye here.’ She slammed the door.
Belle gripped Erin’s hand comfortingly as they hurried through the dim passageway. ‘Why didn’t you tell her? About Father, I mean.’
‘Would it have done any good? No, ’twas a mistake to think I could just stop in an’ say hello after all this time. They think we deserted them an’ they’d probably be right.’ But it had been a painful reunion and Erin remained tight-lipped for some time.
On their way back along Walmgate a fight spilled over from a public house and a pack of writhing, punching, swearing Irishmen tussled on the footway.
‘We’ll cross over,’ decided Erin, and was about to do so when one of the combatants was pushed and stumbled into Belle, knocking her into the road. ‘You scoundrel!’ Erin sprang to her child’s defence, plucking her from the path of a carriage then beating the culprit about the head and shoulders.
This caused aggression to turn to hilarity. The man’s companions roared with laughter at the sight of the big oaf cowering under Erin’s bad-tempered blows. Belle marvelled at how one moment these people seemed intent on murder and the next bosom pals, arms draped round each other’s shoulders as they shared the joke. One old woman found it particularly enjoyable, dancing about in nimble fashion, rolling up her sleeves and making swift jabs in the air. ‘Go on, mash his brains, lady!’
Erin recognised the voice at once and ceased pummelling the man to stare at the ancient crone. ‘Molly! I’ve been looking all over for ye. Oh, Molly!’ She grabbed Belle’s hand and hauled her up to stand in front of the old woman. The crowd had gone quiet. ‘Molly, please hear me out. I’ve just been to see Norah an’ she told me about your troubles. If there’s some way I can help I’d desperately like to.’
‘Is it knowing the lady y’are?’ asked the grey-faced man swaying beside Molly Flaherty.
‘Sure, I do not,’ replied the woman, whose skin looked like a section of withered bark. ‘Never seen her before in me life.’
‘Molly, ’tis Erin,’ pleaded the other. ‘Don’t ye know me?’
The wizened old face, seamed with years of dirt, squinted at her closely. Belle received a noseful of liquor fumes though she was well-distanced. ‘Erin? Erin who?’
Belle felt her mother hesitate, afraid of the reception, then boldly stated her surname.
‘Erin Feeney!’ Recognition lit the woman’s face. ‘Aw, Erin me little darlin’, me baby!’ She drew Erin into a bony embrace, her slitty eyes filling with tears.
Vastly relieved, Erin allowed the contact to be prolonged, even though her friend smelt terrible. ‘Oh, Molly, I’m so glad you’re pleased to see me. Norah threw me out.’
‘She did, did she?’ Molly stopped hugging to roll up her sleeves yet again. ‘We’ll see about that.’
‘No, Molly, I don’t want to bring trouble between ye. I just brought my daughter to see the place where I was born an’ I thought I’d look ye up. Belle, this is Mrs Flaherty who looked after me when I was a baby.’
‘How do you do?’ Belle extended a genteel hand which Molly employed to haul the girl to her bosom. ‘Aw, such a bonny child ye have, Erin – but don’t tell me just the one?’
‘Aye, just the one, Molly. My husband died when Belle was a baby.’
‘Aw, that’s tragic.’ Molly let go of a thankful Belle to claw at Erin’s arm. ‘But ye should marry again, a good-lookin’ girl like yourself.’
‘Hardly a girl,’ smiled Erin and changed the subject. ‘Well, and how is yourself, Molly?’
‘Oh, terrible,’ replied Molly, clutching her own shoulder. ‘The ould rheumatatics, ye know.’
‘Norah tells me her husband lost his job.’
‘Aye, this is Joseph.’ She touched the grey-faced man who, trying to take stock of the proceedings, screwed his cap through his hands. ‘We came for a wee drink just to get us from under Norah’s feet, y’understand. She’s an evil temper on her of late.’
‘I can understand that,’ answered Erin. ‘It must be very hard. What about the rest of the family?’
‘Oh, they’re hereabouts somewhere. I don’t see much of them these days. They have their own families to see to without looking after me. Ah,’ she gave a motion of surrender, ‘what am I defending them for? If ’twasn’t for Norah I’d be in the poorhouse. ’Tis coming to something when a woman’s own children throw her out on the streets.’ She dabbed at her eyes.
‘Is there any way I can help?’ enquired Erin, and opened her purse. ‘I’ve not brought much out with me…’ She offered a halfcrown to Joseph but he waved it aside.
‘Ah, ’tis not necessary, ma’am, thank ye all the same.’
But Molly was quick to snatch it. ‘Such generosity! Erin, you’re a fine girl, I always said so,’ and she hung on to the money grimly.
‘I’m sorry ’tis not more.’ Erin snapped the purse shut. ‘And is there nothing else I can do for either of ye?’ She looked at Joseph.
‘Well now, ma’am,’ began Joseph. ‘As ye said I lost me job… I’m badly in need o’ work, if ye could see your way to helping me in that direction.’
‘What sort o’ work d’ye do?’ asked the other immediately.
‘I’ll do anything, ma’am.’
‘Perhaps my father has a place for ye,’ said Erin thoughtfully. ‘Come back with me now an’ we’ll ask him. You too, Molly. I’m sure Father’ll be delighted to see ye again.’
‘I’d love to see himself an’ all,’ answered a wistful Molly. ‘But I’m doubting your mother would want me clutterin’ up her fine home.’
> Erin, knowing there would be no guests in the house, thought it safe to say, ‘I’m certain Mother would welcome your company after such a long absence, Molly. After all ye were very good to her, good to all of us.’
‘I’m not so sure. The trouble with Tommy is she’s so inconsistent. Ye never know how ye’re going to be treated. I’d not care to think she’d be behaving the same way as my last visit.’
‘Please, Molly, forgive her that,’ begged Erin. ‘Forgive us all. ’Twas just the upset o’ the wedding caused the misunderstanding. We really were pleased to see ye again.’
‘So pleased it took ye fifteen years to stage a reunion,’ said Molly wryly, then grinned and tucked her dirty arm through Erin’s as the latter confessed it was seventeen actually. ‘Ah, sure we’ll come with ye, pet. We can only get thrown out the once, can’t we?’
Before going home Erin went with Molly and her son-in-law to tell Norah where they were going. Joseph had barely been in the house two seconds when they heard Norah erupt. ‘Ye lazy, nogood drunken wretch! Here’s your children going with empty bellies an’ you an’ that woman I have the misfortune to call Mother boozing away our last few pence. Get your filthy hide out o’ my sight!’ She came to push him from the house, which was when she saw Erin who had waited outside. ‘What’s she doing back here?’
‘Ah, daughter, don’t get such a paddy on ye,’ said Molly. ‘Erin’s going to help us.’
‘We don’t want her help. And you!’ She stuck her finger in Molly’s chest. ‘You’re as bad as he is. Ye’ve taken sixpence from the bloody rent money, haven’t yese? Don’t bother to lie, I know ’twasn’t Joseph, he’d never dare. Well, ’tis the last time. Ye can get your backside down to the workhouse an’ see if they’ll put up with your drinking ’cause I’ve had enough.’
‘Aw, Norah, me darlint.’ Molly stepped towards her.
‘Don’t darlin’ me, you’re out! An’ he’s out. You’re all bloody out!’ She slammed the door.
‘Why did ye not give her the halfcrown, Molly?’ asked Erin as the procession tramped back along the passage. ‘It might’ve made her a bit sweeter.’
‘Her sweet? Sure, she’d make a lemon screw its face up.’
‘She’s a right to be mad, I think.’
‘An’ for what? Sure we only had the one. We’ve got to have somethin’ to make life bearable, haven’t we, Joe?’
Erin piloted her daughter around a pile of refuse. ‘I trust ye’ll not spend the money I gave ye on drink. I meant it for the children.’
‘Spend it on drink? Why, no indeed. We won’t, will we, Joseph? No, I’ll just look after it for a wee while. It might help to buy our way in when we get back.’
‘She said she didn’t want ye back. Said she’d had enough o’ ye.’
‘Ah, isn’t she always tellin’ us that? Friday wouldn’t be Friday if we didn’t find ourselves locked out.’
‘But what will ye do?’
‘Same as we always do, colleen. Young Joseph here will kick the door in.’
When they arrived at Peasholme Green Erin sent Belle upstairs then went to the drawing room to prepare her mother. Molly and Joseph remained in the hall, gazing in awe at their palatial surroundings.
‘Ah, so there y’are!’ Patrick pulled himself out of his chair. ‘We’ve been wondering where ye’d got to.’
‘I’ve been out with Belle. I’ll explain later.’ Erin turned to Thomasin. ‘Mother…’
‘Ah, t-t-t-t, not so fast,’ interrupted Patrick. ‘Did ye have words with that young madam o’ yours?’
‘I did. Do I gather ye found Rosie?’ With his nod Erin asked if she was still as upset.
‘She’s over it a little now. I packed her off to bed with a glass of milk an’ nutmeg. She was sorely wounded, though. Sonny and Josie are coming over to reassure her. I can’t think what possessed Belle to be so… Erin, what is it? Ye’re leppin’ about like a flea doin’ overtime.’
Erin hardly dared look at her mother, unsure how she’d take the rash invitation. ‘While I was out I bumped into an old friend. I thought ye might like to see her so I brought her back. Will I bring her in?’
‘Well, unless ye want us to play Guess the Visitor,’ replied her father.
When Molly and Joseph were brought from the hall Patrick gave an exclamation of delight and went straight to his old friend to plant a kiss on her withered cheek. ‘God love ye, ’tis wonderful to see ye, Molly!’ He hugged her.
‘Oh, Pat, me darlin’ boy,’ cried Molly, observing Thomasin warily with one eye as she returned his embrace. ‘Ye’ve never altered, never.’
To her credit Thomasin belied the extreme shock she had suffered by coming forward readily, hands outstretched. ‘Molly, how are you? Do come and sit down. Will you have a cup of tea?’
‘That’s mighty gracious of ye, Tommy.’ Molly’s coming-together with her hostess was a little more inhibited than it had been with Patrick. ‘Er, would ye be after having anything a bit stronger?’
Thomasin, still battling with her unpreparedness, smiled. ‘Of course. Sherry, whiskey?’
‘A drop o’ the hard stuff if it isn’t too much trouble.’ Molly wrung her hands.
‘No trouble at all, Molly.’ Thomasin looked at Joseph.
‘Oh, this here is Norah’s husband.’ Molly introduced them. ‘Joseph, these are two great friends o’ mine, Tommy an’ Pat.’
‘How do you do, Joseph? Won’t you take a seat?’ Thomasin swept her hand towards the sofa where her visitors perched themselves awkwardly, afraid of transferring the dirt from their clothes to the upholstery. ‘Joseph, what can we offer you?’
‘Oh sure, tea would be fine, ma’am, if ye please. I’m a very abstemious person meself.’ If there was work to be had it wouldn’t do for them to get the impression he was a drunkard.
Thomasin motioned for her husband to fetch Molly a drink. ‘I believe I could do with a cup of tea myself. Erin, ring for Abi, would you?’ She placed her palms together, treading air whilst they awaited the maid. ‘Well now, this is Norah’s husband, is it?’
‘It is. He’s a good boy, is Joseph.’
‘Joseph is partly the reason they’re here,’ explained Erin. ‘Ye see he’s just lost his job, an’ we were wondering… could ye find a space for him, Dad?’
Patrick didn’t really need another labourer but was so eager to rescind the dreadful way his old friend had been treated the last time she came to his house that he immediately voiced an affirmation.
Molly’s apprehensive face cracked. ‘Oh, that’s decent of ye, Pat!’ And to Joseph, ‘Didn’t I tell ye he was a real pal?’
‘Oh, she did, sir – an’ thank ye very much.’ Joseph rose to perform a series of bows. ‘I’m in your eternal debt.’
‘My pleasure, son. An’ tell me, Molly, are ye still living in the same place?’
‘Ah, no,’ she told him. ‘I’m in Duke of York Passage now.’
He nodded. ‘An’ is it any better there?’ She told him it wasn’t.
Abigail came in, stopping dead in her tracks when she saw the unlikely visitors. Thomasin’s calm request for tea was met in record time, Abi eager for another sighting of the guests. The conversation was clumsy but amiable. Joseph, a garrulous soul, told them how pleased he was to meet them at last. ‘Indeed if we hadn’t been introduced just now I could’ve picked ye out of a crowd.’ He looked fondly at Thomasin who was in the act of pouring tea. ‘Ah, she was forever tellin’ us about your good wife, sir. Oh, yes. I bet ye were a fine-looking woman when ye were younger, ma’am.’
Thomasin gave a lop-sided smile to her husband. ‘Would that be one lump of arsenic or two, Joseph?’
‘Begging your pardon, ma’am?’ Joseph’s expression was without guile.
‘Just my little joke.’ Thomasin passed him a cup of tea, muttering aside to Pat, ‘It’s good to tell who he lives with, isn’t it?’ Nevertheless, she was finding it enjoyable to mull over old times with Molly and her son-in-law, if only to prove to h
erself just how far she had risen.
‘Ye know, Pat,’ said Molly wistfully, ‘ye ought ta come back an’ spend an evening down the old place. Ye’d be made to feel at home. Nothing’s changed.’
‘I might just do that one o’ these days, Molly,’ replied the man fondly, not divulging that when he had been campaigning for Lockwood his itinerary had taken him within feet of her door. Naturally he had not known she was there… but he hadn’t bothered to look her up, had he? Oh, times have changed, Molly.
‘Did ye hear about Father Kelly?’ asked his friend, rotating her empty glass to draw attention to this fact.
‘I did.’ Patrick smiled sadly and reached for the decanter. ‘We’ll all miss him.’
Molly’s glass was immediately at the ready. ‘Aye, God rest him. He was one of us. Sure, ’tis a great class o’ whiskey ye serve, Patrick.’
The ultimate epitaph, thought Patrick: ‘He was one of us.’ What more could any man hope to have carved on his tombstone?
* * *
After leaving her mother Belle had gone to the room she shared with her cousin. Why this should be so when there were so many vacant rooms was a question she had often asked herself, never more so than now. She didn’t want to talk to Rosanna. She didn’t even want to see her.
It turned out she didn’t have to. Rosanna, mutually hostile, was pretending to be asleep, her face secreted neath the covers. Without lighting a lamp Belle undressed then put on her nightgown and climbed into bed. The curve of her spine always prevented her from lying directly facing the ceiling. She lounged to one side gazing into the darkness, pondering what had been said tonight, and about Tim. Concentrating on the latter she felt the longing burn within her childish breast. It wasn’t true, what Rosanna had said. Tim’s endearments were no fabrication. Oh, if only she were older.
Thoughts of Tim were rife in the other bed too, though of a more fulsome nature. Picturing him in her mind Rosanna placed the flat of her palm on her body, ran it up over the developing mounds of her breasts, down to the hot, jutting bone that burnt through her nightgown. She heard Belle’s sigh and knew that the girl’s thoughts were also with Tim – but it doesn’t matter, thought Rosie elatedly. He loves me. Tim loves me.
Erin’s Child Page 36