Erin’s Child

by Erin's Child (retail) (epub)

  ‘But why?’ He spread his hands. ‘What’s so horrible about wanting a husband and children?’

  ‘What do I need with a husband? I already have a horde of children downstairs.’

  ‘But not your own. You love children so much. Wouldn’t you like one of…’

  ‘Love?’ Belle burst out laughing which brought more discomfort to her chest. ‘I hate the little blighters! I’d be an abominable mother.’

  He almost fell off the edge of the bed. Behind his spectacles his eyes were blank. ‘But how can you say that and in the same breath talk of devoting your life to them?’

  ‘You don’t really know me at all, do you? Brian, you don’t need to love children to see the injustices they suffer, the cruelties. Personally I’m always highly suspicious of people who keep professing, “Oh, I adore children!” They must be suffering some insecurity if they have to keep saying it; probably trying to convince themselves. Children can be revolting creatures – but they still have to be protected. I’m not saying I don’t like them – naturally you can’t help liking some of them – but I’d do the same for a dog.’

  He stood abruptly and began to march to the door. How could he have misjudged her so?

  ‘Bri!’ She halted him. ‘Don’t go off in a huff. You’re making me out to be ungrateful and I’m not. I still want your friendship…’

  ‘How very kind!’ he responded sarcastically. ‘I’m so glad there’s something I can give you.’

  Despite her dreadful fatigue her temper matched his own. ‘You know very well this isn’t about what you can give me! It’s what you want me to give you. I’m supposed to fall into your arms out of gratitude: “Oh, darling, you saved me! Marry me, marry me!” Well, I’m sorry, Brian, I am grateful, I truly am – but I can’t give you something that isn’t there.’

  Tiredness overcame his offensive. ‘This seems to be going all wrong, as usual. I never meant to get angry. I’m sorry for putting you through this when you’re so ill. It’s just that I want you so much, Belle.’

  That was evident from the way he was looking at her. Belle had to admit to herself that it was very flattering, and she could not pretend that she lacked sexual feelings, for some nights they almost drove her mad. But if she gave rein to the latter she would simply be using him. ‘Come back, Bri.’ She held out her hand. Slowly he returned to the bed and clasped the outstretched fingers. ‘We had a good arrangement, didn’t we? Don’t let’s spoil it by one of us wanting more. You should know by now I’m not the romantic type.’

  ‘Forget about the romance,’ he told her. ‘Plenty of marriages are based on friendship.’ At her expression he said, ‘All right, I’ll shut up – for now. But there’ll be other days.’

  ‘If you want to be a martyr.’ But the annoyance had gone. ‘Now will you please go help Sally to catch that elephant? Otherwise I feel I will expire.’

  Chapter Forty-One

  Patrick went to visit Belle regularly. After a few days he found her very much improved in body. Her temper was in fine fettle too; she had discovered that she wasn’t going to be allowed out of bed for a month.

  ‘Do you know what they’ve done, Grandfather?’ she demanded as he pulled the customary chair up to her bedside. ‘Brian and that nursemaid I was stupid enough to employ, they’ve taken my clothes away – hidden them!’

  ‘An’ well done to them too, I say,’ replied Patrick, inciting greater annoyance. ‘Well, would ye stay in bed voluntarily? Would ye? ’Twas only out of cocksuredness that ye got like this in the first place. Thought ye knew better than the expert.’

  ‘So that’s how you describe my heroism,’ griped Belle, then twitched her lips to show she wasn’t really cross with him. ‘Oh, God, I think I’d go mad if it wasn’t for your visits.’ She eyed the brown paper package on his knee. ‘And what have you brought me today?’

  ‘I haven’t brought ye anything.’

  ‘Oh, thank you.’

  ‘Thought I’d treat meself for a change.’

  ‘I wasn’t aware that whiskey came in square packets.’ She knew from Erin that her illness had scared him into drinking again. Mother had gone back to the factory now the crisis was over, so there was no one at home to watch him.

  Patrick cautioned her. His horny-nailed fingers picked at the string, then threw it onto her lap. ‘You do it, your nails are longer than mine.’

  Belle placed the object on her blanketed lap and teased at the knot until it slackened. She unravelled the paper. ‘The Time Machine. The things you read, Grandfather.’ She leafed through it, sampling a few paragraphs, then passed it back.

  Patrick gave a cursory ripple of the pages. ‘I’m looking forward to getting me teeth into that.’ There were few things he could apply that optimism to these days. ‘If you’re not nice to me I might just go home an’ do so.’

  ‘You’re not meant to eat it, you’re meant to read it.’

  ‘Aye.’ He became meditative, staring at a point on the wallpaper over her head. ‘I wish I had one.’

  ‘One what?’

  ‘A time machine.’

  ‘I could do with one of those myself,’ said Belle, anticipating the day she was released from this prison. ‘And where would you ask it to take you?’

  That was a mistake. ‘I’d ask it to turn back the clock to one hour before Rosanna was killed.’ His hands tightened on the book, so hard she felt he was going to crush its spine. ‘Because then I’d know to do anything in my power to stop her leaving the house. I could’ve saved her. Belle, if I’d handled it differently.’

  ‘Gramps, it’s no good going back.’

  ‘I took it for just a passing fling, ye know. Thought she’d forget about him after a month’s parting. I’d forgotten what it’s like to be young an’ passionate.’

  ‘We can all find ways of reversing events with hindsight. Life just doesn’t come that way.’ She didn’t tell him about seeing Rosanna going into that house in Walmgate.

  ‘Seeing you lying there that night made it worse,’ he rambled. ‘Brought it all back… I thought I was going to lose you, too.’

  ‘Well, you haven’t,’ she told him, shaking his hand. ‘Wouldn’t you rather the machine took you back to a happier time?’

  He pondered for so long with eyes closed that she thought he’d fallen asleep, but eventually he answered, ‘Eighteen sixty.’

  ‘That was very definite. It must’ve been an exceptionally good year.’

  ‘It was a hell of a year – diabolical. ’Twas the year your nan an’ me almost split up.’ She gave a little laugh of bafflement. Patrick stretched himself, then relaxed. ‘No, I don’t know what made me choose it, either. The date just came into me mind. Maybe because it was such a passionate time. It must be hard for you to contemplate me an’ Nan as a couple o’ hot-blooded youngsters, but we were once. Oh, yes…’ His voice trailed away.

  ‘I wish there was some way I could make it easier, Gramps,’ she said earnestly.

  ‘There is – get some whiskey in for next time I call. I can’t stand these temperance houses.’ But he was smiling again. He looked up as a visitor was admitted. ‘God love us an’ save us! They told me the drink would get to me eventually though I didn’t know the hallucinations would be that dastardly.’ He levered himself from the chair as Sonny came forward bearing a large bunch of flowers.

  His son laid the blooms on the patient’s lap and bent to kiss her. ‘Somebody appeared to forget we have a telephone. I’ve only just heard about your drama. Josie and everyone send their love and hope you’ve got the old bilges working properly again.’

  ‘I’d be better if some people would stop treating me like an invalid.’ Belle sniffed the flowers. ‘A dress would’ve been more appreciated than these.’

  ‘Oh, don’t mention it, Belle!’ Sonny waved a hand. ‘They only cost me a fortune.’ He perched on the bed. ‘Glad to hear you and your mother are on speaking terms again. In fact I expected to find her here looking after you.’

  �
��And so you would have done, if I hadn’t told her to sling her hook!’ His niece smiled. ‘But yes, it is nice to have her understand at last.’

  Sonny nodded. ‘And how’s Father then?’ During their telephone conversation his mother had mentioned that the old man was drinking rather heavily again. That was another reason for his visit.

  ‘Oh, Father’s quite well considering it takes a near-tragedy for him to get to see his son. I thought it was at Leeds you lived, not Timbuctoo. Josie well? And the girls?’ Sonny said that all were fine. ‘An’ how’s your mother keeping?’ Sonny exchanged glances with Belle. ‘Well, don’t you see more of her than I do?’

  ‘All right, no more buggering about,’ replied his son. ‘Maybe if you didn’t drink so much she might be more inclined to talk to you.’

  ‘Ah-ha!’ said Patrick knowingly.

  ‘I thought you’d got over that by now, Dad?’ Sonny was reproving.

  Patrick screwed up his face in disbelief. ‘Got over Rosie? God, I’ll never get over her – even if everybody else has.’ Sonny was famed for his even temperament but now he cracked. ‘I didn’t mean Rosie! For Christ’s sake, you miserable old bugger, I miss her too, you know! Just because I don’t go round with my face down to my boots or reach for the whiskey bottle every five seconds doesn’t mean I don’t feel her loss – Jesus, she was my daughter. Having four more doesn’t make the loss easier to bear. I could still scream with the pain sometimes, but it won’t bring her back and it only upsets those around you.’

  Patrick was unmoved. ‘And that’s your way of telling me I’m getting everybody down with my long expression.’

  ‘Yes! But I’m far more concerned about your drinking. If you’re not careful you’ll kill yourself!’

  ‘An’ who’d care?’

  ‘Oh, Dad…’ Sonny stopped ranting. ‘What a bloody state you’ve got yourself into… We all care about you, you know that.’

  ‘So why do I always seem to find meself on me own? Your mother’s out all hours saving her ancient monuments, Nick’s back with you at Leeds, Erin’s at the factory, Belle’s got her children – ’tis only ’cause she’s trapped in her sickbed that I’ve anyone to listen to me grumbling.’

  ‘Well, I’m listening.’ Sonny placed a hand over his father’s. ‘I’ll try and get over more often.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t want to force people into spending time with a grizzly old bugger who they’d rather avoid.’

  ‘Oh, do stop it, Grandfather,’ snapped Belle irritably. ‘You’re making me feel ill.’

  He laughed then. ‘Ah well, it’s had some good effect then, it’s served to keep you in that bed. Oh, I’m sorry if I’ve been getting on everyone’s nerves, Son… I sound a right self-pitying devil, I know. It’s just that when I’m on me own I get to thinking, an’ when I get to thinking… I get to drinking.’

  ‘I do know,’ murmured Sonny. ‘I can be in the middle of painting a picture when all of a sudden there she is…’ Patrick nodded. ‘And Dickie.’

  Sonny was dealt a sharp reminder. Yes, that’s how it would be… Oh, how he would have loved to tell his father that there was no need for this double mourning, but he daren’t.

  He came alive and thrust a hand into his pocket, throwing a five-pound note onto Belle’s coverlet. ‘Right, we’re taking bets! A fiver says you can’t lay off the booze until Christmas.’

  But Patrick wouldn’t be provoked. ‘Take it back, I’m damned if I’m going teetotal for anybody.’

  Sonny distorted his mouth at this failure. ‘Can you do anything with him?’ he demanded of Belle.

  She jabbed at her temple. ‘What d’you think all these grey hairs are?’

  ‘Eh, I don’t know… Josie was just saying last night how nice it would be if the family could spend a week under the same roof and make a proper reunion of it – even when we do all get together these days it’s never for more than a day or two. I told her she was being a bit optimistic.’

  ‘That she was. Faith, your mother’d have kittens if ye suggested she spent a whole week in the company of her husband – hey, that’s an idea! She could start selling them at the store, a new pet department.’

  Sonny laughed. ‘Eh, but if we held this reunion at Christmas when everybody’s spent all their money she’d have no excuse to be rushed off her feet, would she? An’ you’re the one who’s just been moaning about never having any company – wouldn’t you enjoy it?’

  ‘Oh aye, I think it’s a fine idea.’ Pat chuckled. ‘It’s a bugger, isn’t it? Having to make advance appointments of nine months to see your wife.’

  ‘It’ll take me that long to save up enough brass to feed you all,’ said Sonny. ‘You’ll come with your sprites, won’t you, Belle?’ She said she would.

  ‘Listen,’ his father promised, ‘if you can get your mother to spend an entire week with her husband I’ll not only regulate my drinking, I’ll give you a gold medal.’

  * * *

  ‘So where’s the gold medal?’ enquired Sonny nine months later when his parents arrived in Leeds with their suitcases.

  ‘What’s the boy talking about?’ Thomasin followed the butler and maid into the holly and misdetoe-laden hall.

  ‘I promised our son a gold medal if he could get you away from the store,’ declared Patrick. ‘I said it’d be too much of a hardship for ye to spend a full week with your husband.’

  ‘You poor, neglected soul.’ But the rebuke was delivered without malice. Sonny had put such effort into this reunion that they all must try exceptionally hard not to fall out. She let the maid take her hat and coat, then stripped off her gloves. ‘Brr! Point me to the fire, it’s brass monkey weather out there.’ This when they were out of earshot of the servants.

  ‘That’s exactly how Father feels, you know,’ said Sonny, taking her into the drawing room while Patrick went upstairs for a brush-up.

  ‘I thought I could hear something clanking.’ Thomasin stood before the blaze rubbing her hands.

  ‘I didn’t mean like a brass monkey, thank you, Mother! You know very well what I mean. You’ve not spent an awful lot of time with him since we last met, have you?’ Her jocular smile fizzled out. Coming away from the fire she took a seat. ‘I have tried… but I can’t sit at home with him, Sonny, I just can’t. We’re like two bookends. He drives me mad with his tales of the old days and how good it was. It wasn’t good, it was damned hard, you know that and so does he at heart. It’s just his way of getting at me.’ Sonny shrugged. ‘Oh, I know what he means when he says “the old days”. He refers to when we were young and gay – but he can’t expect things to stay the same, can he? I mean, you just don’t feel the same way about somebody when you get older – especially when they seem intent on pickling their liver for posterity'.’

  ‘No better, then?’

  ‘Well… he’s up and down really. Some days he doesn’t touch more than a glass.’

  ‘You know, something struck me the other day. We’ve contributed as much to his drinking habits as he has. Every time there was some upset it’d be “Here, get this down you, Dad”. Just think back, Mam. We’re not really within our rights to blame it all on him.’ The expression on her face agreed this was a good point. ‘Instead of condemning, we should be more positive – maybe if the drink’s not on display he might be less inclined to reach for it.’

  ‘I suppose I should’ve been the one to suggest that. I really do care about him you know, Sonny. It’s just that this weakness of his makes me so mad.’

  Sonny was about to point out that his mother had her weaknesses too – for didn’t she plunge herself into her work when she couldn’t face life as it was? But she would not have appreciated this – work to her was a virtue, not a weakness – and anyway, at this juncture his thoughts were interrupted by Josie’s entry with their daughters.

  ‘Oh, you’re even bonnier than ever!’ Thomasin rose to kiss them all. ‘And look at Elizabeth! What a young woman – we’ll soon have to see about finding you a husband.’ S
onny smiled. Dear Mam, ever the matchmaker. If only she could do a little matchmaking for herself and Father. ‘Where’s my sister, by the way?’

  ‘She’s catching the train,’ his mother told him. ‘Says she’ll be here this evening with Belle – they seem to be spending quite a bit of time together now. Bosom pals.’

  ‘Yes, well I trust Belle hasn’t acquired any more children lately, else we’re going to have to stick labels on them all to remember whose are whose.’

  ‘Oh, it’s going to be lovely, all of us together,’ enthused Thomasin. Then her smile frayed a little.

  Sonny knew what was going through her mind. Oh, Mam, if only I could tell you that he’s still alive.

  * * *

  Later, Sonny took his parents to see the neat row of cottages he had built for his mill-workers. After this they visited the workhouse with a Christmas tree and gifts of food. On their exit, Thomasin expressed a desire to visit the store. ‘I promise I won’t be long. I just want to see how Nick’s coping,’ so after dropping their son back at the house, she and Patrick were driven into town.

  On the way, however, they passed a park and having no wish to compete with the Christmas crowds Patrick said he would take a walk round it while his wife conducted her business with Nick.

  ‘I don’t know if that’s wise,’ replied Thomasin as he alighted from the carriage. ‘Have you got enough clothes on? I don’t want to come back and find you frozen to a park bench.’

  He assured her he would be fine as long as she didn’t take all day about it and Thomasin, wishing him a happy walk, told John to drive on.

  Briggate was packed with shoppers and traffic. There was barely room for Thomasin’s carriage to park outside her own store. ‘I hope you remembered to fetch the goose grease, John,’ she told her driver as he helped her to the pavement. ‘It’s going to be a right squeeze getting in there.’ He smiled and followed her to the door where a man in uniform saluted and asked Thomasin if she was keeping well. She inspected his appearance automatically. ‘Very well, Stanley – and you?’