Dorgan laughed good-humouredly. ‘I don’t suppose a young lady like yourself will have had much use for explosives before.’
Her lips parted. She stared at him. ‘Explosives?’
‘That’s right. This little lot is going to help our cause, an’ you’re part of that cause now, Rosie. I know it’s hardly necessaiy but I’m going to have to call on ye to swear an oath of secrecy. If you so much as utter one word we’re all of us finished – an’ that includes young Tim here.’
‘I’ll never breathe a word,’ swore Rosanna, drawing a Cross upon her heart. ‘I swear it on Our Lady’s name. Thank you for trusting me, Mr Dorgan. You don’t know what it means to me.’ She reached her hand backwards to draw Timothy to her.
‘Sure, I knew soon as ever I laid eyes on ye that here was a girl I could trust me life with. Phil, I said to meself, there’s a young lady who’s going to do as much for our cause as O’Donovan Rossa.’
‘You honour me too much.’ Her cheeks had reddened. ‘I really don’t see what help I could be – though I’d be willing to try, of course.’
‘Ye’d be surprised. For one thing a respectable person like yourself would be allowed into any number o’ places where the likes of us ruffians would be turned away. Oh yes, Rosie, you’re going to be invaluable to us, isn’t she, Tim?’ He spotted the glint of desire in Tim’s eye and laughed. ‘Ah, God listen to the buffoon going on about causes when all the young lovers want is to be on their own. Go on then, off with yese while this poor old soul has to content himself with a cup o’ tea.’
He busied himself with the teapot so as to detract from the girl’s blushing cheeks. When the creak of the bed had told him it was safe he gathered up the bundle and carried it out into the yard. Stepping into the privy he bolted the door and reaching into the darkest corner prised three loose bricks from the wall. Inserting the oilskin bundle into the cavity, he replaced the bricks then pulled down his trousers and sat on the wooden seat. A sudden thought brought a chuckle to his lips: wasn’t he always saying it’d take dynamite to shift his tight bowels?
* * *
As was customary when Belle had a school holiday Erin went to collect her from the college. Protests that she was almost an adult and could quite efficiently come on her own did not seem to register with the girl’s mother. ‘You are not an adult, you’re a child, and how’re ye going to manage your trunk?’ she argued on their way to the station. ‘How would you know if you were on the right train?’
‘Mother, I’m hardly an idiot,’ objected Belle. ‘I can speak, you know. I could ask a porter. Why won’t you trust me?’
‘Of course I trust ye,’ replied Erin lightly. ‘It’s other people I don’t trust. What if, out of mischief, the porter was to direct ye to the wrong train?’
‘And why would he want to do something as childish as that?’
‘Because people aren’t always nice to those they see as different.’
Belle did not disclose that she’d had plenty of experience of this at college. Whether it was done because of her deformity or that she was way out in front as far as school marks were concerned, she didn’t know. Neither did she care. That they hated her was enough. She could not lay claim to one friend at that school. Not one. Oh, they weren’t all mean to her, but she was cute enough to see that those who were nice were only being so because of her deformity, because they felt sorry for her, so it was all the same really. People were a perverse lot. She hated school. She detested its pupils, scorned its tutors.
‘Besides,’ Erin was saying, ‘your whole argument is pointless. No respectable young lady goes about unchaperoned.’
‘But…’
‘Belle, would you like me to unpack this suitcase in the middle of the platform, take out a hairbrush and give ye a paddling?’
Belle gave in. It was hopeless trying to have a reasonable discussion with her mother. For all the woman boasted about Belle’s forwardness she didn’t credit her with an ounce of commonsense.
When they arrived home and had undergone the usual moist-eyed reunions with Grandfather and the others, Belle suddenly remembered the letter in her pocket and pulled it out. ‘Sorry, Mother, I forgot to give you this.’
‘Silly girl, it could be something important.’ Erin took it and ripped it open. After apparently reading a few lines her eyes suddenly swam with moisture. She put a hand to her face and looked helplessly at her mother as Thomasin enquired concernedly what was wrong. ‘Oh,’ said Erin, unable to say more. Pressing her hand over her mouth she held out the letter. Patrick took it.
His face soon came alight. ‘Why, ye soft pratie! I thought it was some disaster. Aw, Belle, congratulations!’ He hugged her, passing the letter over her head to Thomasin. ‘The child’s only gone and passed all her examinations for university, that’s all.’
Thomasin, without reading the letter, threw her arms around Belle and the hall became a melee of laughing congratulations. ‘Come on, come on!’ she beckoned. ‘Don’t stand out here. Patrick, get the glasses out.’ She waved them on to the drawing room where toasts were made and Belle stood patiently until it all became too much of a bore. She asked if she might be excused. ‘I feel awfully grubby from the train.’
‘Oh, look at me,’ said her mother, peering down at herself. ‘Standing about drinking sherry and covered in soot. Come along, dear, let’s call Abi and get you unpacked.’ She made to collect the trunk from the hall but Nick went ahead. ‘I’ll get it.’
With Erin detained by her parents Belle went up with her cousins, Nick bearing the trunk on his shoulder, Rosanna at the rear.
‘Well done, Belladonna,’ he threw over his shoulder. ‘May I presume you’ll be collecting this fistful of degrees from London University, coz?’ The residential college where Belle studied was affiliated to this establishment.
‘I shall,’ answered Belle as they took another flight. ‘And that’s as many questions on university as I’m going to answer. It’s bad enough with Mother.’
‘Shouldn’t be such a brainbox then.’ Nick’s long legs stretched to four steps at a time, leaving the girls behind.
‘Shall I help you unpack?’ asked Rosanna as they caught up with Nick in their bedroom.
‘My, I didn’t foresee my intellectual achievements procuring such generosity,’ jeered her cousin, then feeling in good spirits at being home decided to be a little kinder to her lesser-brained relative. ‘It’s all right. Abi will see to. it. Now, everyone, please let me forget about school and tell me all that’s been going on while I’ve been walled up in there.’ At her Easter vacation she had been shocked to find that Tim was no longer working for her grandfather. She would miss him dreadfully but at least his absence meant that neither girl could have him so the rift between her and Rosie could be patched up. After all, it was no fun sharing a room with someone you detested. She had been rather surprised that Rosanna hadn’t been more upset, having professed undying love for Tim. It just went to prove how fickle Rosie could be. For herself she intended to investigate Tim’s whereabouts. If her cousin had forgotten him so quickly she definitely had not. ‘And are you still helping Grandfather, Rosie?’ She had thought perhaps that with Tim gone Rosanna’s interest in the fruit and vegetable trade might have palled.
‘Oh yes, I’m getting to be quite an expert book-keeper.’
‘And you, Nick, have you been awarded any more promotion lately?’
‘Grandmother’s going to put me in charge of the Goodramgate store,’ he answered.
His sister looked at him intently. ‘I haven’t heard Nan mention that.’
‘That’s because she doesn’t know yet,’ replied Nick slyly. ‘But she is.’
Belle laughed. ‘Still the same old Nick. Oh, it’s good to be home. If only I didn’t have to go back.’
‘Never mind,’ said Rosanna amicably. ‘We can have some good times while you are here. Would you like to come and help me one day at the storehouse? We could get round Gramps and slope off for a picnic.’
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‘I’d like that, Rosie,’ replied Belle, smiling to herself. It was always like this at the start of the holiday; everyone all lovey-dovey. By the time it was over there would be blood splashing up the walls.
‘And maybe you’d like to come to the store to see how I’ve improved the running of things,’ offered Nick.
‘He’s really the man that sweeps the floor,’ explained his sister scathingly. Belle laughed.
‘You may mock.’ Nick wagged a majestic finger. ‘But one day I’m going to be running the show on my own and when I do I shan’t allow riff-raff like you two in.’
Rosanna looked at Belle, then both said, ‘Right!’ and pounced on him, Belle sitting astride while Rosie pulled off his boots and tickled his feet until he cried for mercy. Then the three of them fell in a pile, laughing.
* * *
Rosanna had been itching to share her secret with someone other than her brother for ages – a female ear – but knew that Belle’s was not the one to choose. A jealous Belle would be sure to give her away. Perversely the temptation was even stronger as the girls strolled arm in arm along the country lane on that hot summer’s day, perhaps because she and Belle had exchanged fewer cross words than was usual during the time her cousin had been home. The sun filled Rosie with such feelings of kinship that she thought she would burst. How she kept rein on her tongue was a miracle.
Finding a pleasant spot Belle took the rug which had been folded over her arm and spread it on the grass. Rosanna deposited the hamper in the centre, pulled the cane pegs from their stays and opened the wicker lid.
‘Ooh, good old Abi!’ came her exclamation as she put aside a bowl of salad to lift out a ham and tomato flan, which was soon demolished, as was the parcel of sandwiches that came after it, the raspberry scones, two apples and several iced buns.
After eating they sat with their faces upturned, drinking in the sun, and talked until the neglected bowl of lettuce began to droop and turn brown at the edges.
‘D’you think you’ll ever marry, Belle?’ mused Rosanna, her long hair flowing down behind to tickle the hands that supported her.
‘What makes you ask that?’ asked a startled Belle.
‘Oh… nothing. Just wondering.’
Belle turned her face back to the sun. ‘Maybe – if I can find the right man.’ Tim came to mind. She smiled. ‘Though I have a horrible feeling Mother has more in store for me than to waste myself on marriage.’
‘How can it be wasting oneself if you love someone?’
‘I didn’t say I thought that, only that Mother sees it that way. What about you?’
It was so very tempting. ‘Some day.’
The conversation faded as each dwelt privately on the matter, then all at once a figure stepped from nowhere, causing both young hearts to leap. Despite her handicap Belle was the first to spring up and fling her arms round his neck. ‘Tim, how tremendous to see you! How did you know we were here?’
Tim kissed her cheek affectionately, observing Rosanna over the hunched shoulder. When the child had thrown herself at him Rosie had stepped back, her face uncharacteristically passive. ‘I didn’t.’ Smiling, he disengaged her arms from his neck but held onto her hands. ‘But it’s nice to see you again, Belle. How’s that school going down?’
‘All right.’ She made a face, then laughed ecstatically. ‘Oh, but it’s wonderful to see you! I feared I never would when I heard the bad news last time. I’ve been trying to discover where I might find you – and now you’ve found me. Won’t you stay and share our picnic?’ She tried to lead him to the rug. ‘I think we could find a few crumbs at the bottom of the hamper.’
‘That’s kind of you but I daren’t stay long.’ He held back. ‘I really came in the hope of passing a message to Rosie.’
Belle’s smile levelled as Tim dropped her hands to approach his lover whom he kissed – much more tenderly than he had kissed her. ‘Hello, colleen. How’s the body?’
‘The body’s fine.’ Her eyes engaged with his, and Belle, seeing that look, knew that everything Rosie had thrown at her that day was true: Tim had just been friendly to make Rosanna jealous. But Belle didn’t give in that easily.
She stepped up to them, breaking their concentration. ‘So!’ she said, overly bright. ‘What is this message? If it wouldn’t be regarded as prying.’
Tim addressed himself to Rosanna. ‘I came to see if ye could make it any earlier on Sunday, darlin’. I have a trip to make for our mutual friend at three.’
Rosanna chewed her cheek. ‘I don’t know if I can… Nan’s very strict on matters of the lunch-table.’
Darling. He called her darling, thought the other girl bleakly. Yet still she persevered. Hooking her arm through his she said, ‘I’m sure if Rosanna can’t make it then I’ll be able to oblige, Tim.’ A resentful glance at her cousin. ‘It was rather sneaky of her to corner you while I was away.’
The lovers exchanged pitying expressions.
‘Or was the invitation confined to my cousin?’ said Belle, dropping his arm.
‘Belle…’ began Tim.
‘It was all true, wasn’t it?’ breathed the girl, her face a picture of betrayal. ‘All the things she said about you, about you just being nice to me because you felt sorry for me.’
‘No, it wasn’t.’
‘It’s because I look like this, isn’t it?’
‘Don’t talk stupid. You’re a nice-looking girl.’
‘I loved you…’
‘Oh, Belle.’ He tried to take hold of her hand but she snatched it away. ‘Belle, it had nothing to do with how ye look. In fact I think you’re very beautiful. It’s just that me an’ Rosanna…’
‘It’s just that her body isn’t twisted and mine is,’ Belle threw at him.
‘Belle, it was wrong of me to shower all that attention on ye and give the wrong impression.’ His face held an apology. ‘I was angry at Rosie and wanted to make her jealous.’
‘And you used me!’
‘It’s true. I shouldn’t’ve done an’ I humbly beg your forgiveness if I hurt ye.’
‘I’ll never forgive you, never! Either of you.’ She wheeled on Rosanna. ‘Now I know why you didn’t seem affected by Tim’s dismissal; you were seeing him all the time, weren’t you? While I was locked away in that dratted school you two were canoodling, laughing at me…’
‘Belle, please don’t tell Grandfather, he knows nothing about this,’ begged Rosanna.
‘And why shouldn’t I tell him?’
‘It would finish us, Belle,’ answered Tim gravely.
‘What do I care of that? Neither of you gave a jot for my feelings.’
‘Belle, I’ve said I’m sorry. I didn’t ever intend for ye to fall in love with me.’
‘But I did!’
What could he say to give her comfort? In callow fashion he said the wrong thing. ‘You’re young yet, Belle. Give yourself time to grow up a little before talking of love. I’m not worth it, ye know. Some day you’ll meet a nice young man…’
‘No! I’ll never love anyone else. You made me believe you loved me. I hate you. I hate you both. I’ll never trust another man as long as I live!’ She made to run away. Her heavy boot caught in a divot and nearly brought her down but she shook off their assistance. ‘Leave me alone! I don’t need you.’
‘Belle, what’re you going to do?’ cried Rosanna fearfully.
Belle stopped then and trained a look of gleeful hatred on her cousin. ‘You think I’m going straight to Grandfather, don’t you?’
Rosanna reached for Tim’s hand. ‘And are you?’
‘You’ll both just have to wait and see, won’t you?’ With this Belle limped rapidly away down the track.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
When Rosanna got back and saw her cousin standing with her grandfather she feared the worst. But when she nervously approached Patrick held out his free arm – the other draped round Belle’s shoulder – and gave a cheery greeting.
‘Ah, here s
he is!’ He drew her into a squeeze. ‘Wasn’t it too bad o’ Belle to leave ye to pack up on your own.’
‘Oh, I don’t mind.’ Rosanna snatched a glance at her cousin’s bitter face.
‘Well, come on then, I think we’ll go home early and get us some lemonade.’ He worked his dry mouth. ‘I’ve not enough spit to cover a flea.’ Keeping his arms about them he marched both along the path to where the carriage waited. ‘Ah good, Joseph’s hitched the pony; no waiting. Thank ye, Joseph,’ he shouted as they approached. ‘Ye can tell the lads they can have an early hometime, too. They’ve done a good day’s work.’
‘Thank ye, sir, that’s very gentlemanly of ye.’ Joseph saluted.
‘And how’s your family keepin’, Joseph?’ Patrick took charge of the reins.
‘Oh, nicely, sir, thank ye. Oh, yes.’
‘And our friend Molly?’'
‘Her too yes, sir, thank ye, sir. And your own, sir?’
‘They’re in excellent health, Joseph. Why, look at the two fine specimens I have here as proof. What d’ye think to them, eh?’
‘Oh, they’re as fine a pair o’ young ladies as ever walked the streets, sir,’ flattered Joseph, making Patrick roar with laughter. ‘I always say to the wife: that Rosanna, I say, if ever an angel fell down from Heaven ’tis herself.’ A smile from Rosanna. ‘Why, ’tis a pleasure to see her smiling face every day. Makes the lads work that much harder. Ah, they all admire her greatly – an’ if ye could see the way she turns the heads when she goes trotting by our house on her Sunday outing ye’d never believe it. Sure, they’ve never witnessed the like of her down our way. Oh, no.’
Rosanna’s smile froze. She dare not look at her grandfather’s face, awaiting his comment, but Joseph was still blarneying. ‘An’ could I be after askin’ how Miss Belle’s eddication is coming along, sir? I hear she’s got herself a double dose o’ brains.’
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