Erin’s Child

by Erin's Child (retail) (epub)

  ‘Brian, I’ve admitted she’s got the best looks in the family…’

  ‘…unless, of course, it’s because she’s deformed,’ sprang in Brian. ‘Why does it affect you so, Mrs Feeney? Oh yes, it does. I noticed when I said the word. It couldn’t be because you think her deformity reflects on your status, could it?’

  The voice was cold. ‘Doctor Dyson, as this is meant to be a celebration I’ll overlook that remark, but should you make such an insinuation again…’

  ‘Mrs Feeney, I beg your pardon but you were the one to make insinuations. You haven’t the courage to come right out with it and say that Belle should be grateful to me because no one else will marry a crippled girl. Well, that’s absolutely ridiculous. She’s as much chance of marrying as the next person if she so chooses. Is that how you’ve always looked upon her – as your crippled granddaughter? Not just your grand-daughter nor your pretty grand-daughter but your deformed grand-daughter.’

  Thomasin was used to controlling her voice. ‘You are offensive, Doctor, and I think you should apologise.’

  ‘No, I think you should, Mrs Feeney. It’s high time you made reparation to Belle for the shabby way you’ve always treated her.’

  ‘How long have you known my grand-daughter, Doctor Dyson?’ asked the elderly woman frigidly.

  ‘About five years.’

  ‘Such a long time. I’m faintly surprised that you feel qualified to comment on what is essentially a family matter.’

  ‘I think I know her better than you.’

  ‘A family matter, Doctor, which does not concern outsiders. Now, you are welcome to stay as a guest of my grand-daughter if you wish, but let me make it clear that I will listen to no more defamatory statements! I love Belle.’

  ‘Of course you do!’ he said sincerely. ‘I wouldn’t dream of questioning that. But you pity her – and you pity yourself because of her.’

  ‘I’ll say goodnight, Doctor,’ said Thomasin shortly. ‘I trust our paths won’t cross again this evening.’ She moved away, wondering angrily what she had done to bring that down on herself.

  Brian watched the false smile she had donned for the benefit of the other guests – Why have you got such a big mouth, Dyson? he asked himself, then went to join Belle and her grandfather. Always trying to build bridges with dynamite.

  ‘Ah, now here’s the fella that’ll tell us!’ cried Patrick. ‘Sit down, boyo, an’ cast your eyes on that woman in the pink frock.’

  ‘Gramps,’ chivvied Belle. ‘Stop getting Brian embroiled in your wickedness.’

  ‘D’ye see who I mean? Now tell me – are they or are they not her own?’

  Brian’s mouth quivered. ‘I take it you are referring to her teeth, Mr Feeney?’

  ‘Tee… sure as hell I am! Her bosoms, man!’ Belle was convulsed and struggled to silence him, but Patrick, evaded the hand that searched to cover his mouth. ‘She’s got those bloody concertina things shoved down her bodice. Look! Ye can see one o’ them’s half-folded up. It’s given in. God, the things women do for attention.’

  ‘Gramps, you swore to Nan you’d never touch another drop,’ scolded a blushing Belle.

  ‘An’ what makes ye think I’ve been at the sauce?’ demanded the old man.

  ‘Because I know you wouldn’t dream of embarrassing us like this if you were sober. Tsk. Nan’ll be mad as anything – as I am myself. Where did you get it?’

  ‘Ye mean how did I manage to collar one o’ those flunkeys who’ve been blatantly avoiding me with their trays,’ replied her grandfather. ‘I didn’t, I brung me own.’ He caressed his pocket.

  Belle became serious. Something must have upset him, for him to start drinking again. She voiced that concern.

  ‘I’m not upset. Do I look upset? No, I’m enjoying meself. I just didn’t see why I should be the only one to toast the Queen’s Jubilee in lemonade – disgusting stuff.’ He quietened. ‘Ye won’t tell your Nan, will ye?’

  ‘I may do if I think it’s for your own good.’ She punched him laughingly. ‘Of course I won’t – as long as you promise to water it down a bit, Gramps. Brian, will you tell him how bad it is for him?’

  ‘She’s right, you know.’

  ‘Ah, go ’way with ye both,’ scoffed Patrick. ‘Stop pontificating an’ take this wench onto the dance floor.’

  ‘You know I never dance,’ Belle stated firmly.

  ‘Then ’tis about time ye did.’

  ‘I heartily agree,’ said Brian, springing to his feet and trying to drag her from the chair.

  ‘Brian, don’t be silly.’

  ‘This is what I have to put up with all the time,’ said Brian to the older man. ‘“Brian, don’t be silly. Brian, don’t do this, Brian don’t do that, be a good boy”.’

  She laughed at his affected simper. ‘Don’t be a clown.’

  ‘See? I don’t know why I bother to keep asking her to marry me. She’d treat me like a dog if we were wed.’

  ‘I know the feeling,’ remarked Patrick, but not sorrowfully. ‘An’ I don’t know why ye keep bothering to ask her – tell her, man! There’s too much o’ this pandering to females nowadays. Ye say to her – right, we’re getting married next week – an’ she’ll just have to go along with it.’

  ‘Yet another one who doesn’t know her,’ muttered the doctor ruefully, catching Thomasin’s stern examination. As he met her eye she turned away.

  ‘What’s that?’ Patrick cupped his ear.

  ‘I said I’m going to take your advice.’ Brian refused to let go of Belle and dragged her to her feet. ‘I shall start by demanding that she have this dance with me – and then who knows.’ He hoped Belle could interpret the question in his eyes and looked for an answering gleam in hers. But sadly through the warmth he gauged her response: it was still no.

  Thomasin couldn’t seem to take her eyes off Belle for the rest of the evening – How could he say that? she asked herself over and over. I don’t treat her like that, I don’t. Once or twice, other members of her family asked if she was feeling all right for she didn’t appear to be enjoying the party, which was highly unusual for Thomasin.

  ‘D’ye think Mother’s ill?’ Erin muttered to Sonny as they waltzed past Thomasin’s chair. ‘She’s looking very vague.’

  Sonny followed his mother’s eyes and assumed her to be staring at her husband who was sitting with Belle and the doctor. ‘No, she’s just worried about Dad. He’s had one or two, I think. Still, it is a party.’

  ‘Aye… let’s just hope he doesn’t extend the party into next week,’ smiled Erin.

  ‘Have you ever thought of getting married again, our lass?’ her brother asked unexpectedly.

  After laughing at the change of subject she mused, ‘Once or twice… but no one could replace Sam – and I’m very happy as things are.’

  ‘Good.’ He pulled her into his body and performed an exaggerated step bringing forth laughter to endorse her statement.

  At the end of the evening Thomasin and Patrick shook hands with their guests and saw them to their carriages. Thomasin was still in a state of mild agitation over Brian’s words. He knew this, which was why he was very apprehensive on taking his leave of her.

  ‘Goodnight, Doctor Dyson.’ Thomasin extended a cool hand.

  ‘Doctor Dyson?’ said Belle. ‘Sounds like you’ve been crossed off the Christmas list, Bri – what’ve you been doing to her?’

  Thomasin broke the awkward handshake and turned to her grand-daughter who leaned forward to accept a peck on the cheek. Expecting this, Belle was taken literally off-balance to receive an impulsive and crushing embrace. She wobbled, then laughed her surprise as Thomasin showed reluctance to let her go. Thomasin pressed her cheek to the young woman’s and patted her back. ‘You look really beautiful, Belle,’ she murmured into her ear, arms still wrapped tightly around her. ‘I am proud of you, love.’

  Belle was still marvelling over this unsolicited show of affection as she and Brian walked to their carriage. ‘What on earth
have you said to her, Bri?’

  ‘Nothing,’ he lied. ‘The only exchange we had was the usual one I have with members of your family – when are you and I getting married?’

  Belle groaned. ‘I don’t know why they’re all so intent on seeing me married off. It can’t simply be to get rid of me – I’ve already left home. People are funny, aren’t they? You’d think they’d be pleased that Pm happy as I am.’

  ‘It’s not so much you they’re concerned about, but me. They see the way I look at you.’

  ‘Well, I trust you won’t allow them to think it’s me who’s keeping you dangling,’ said Belle firmly.

  ‘Oh, they’re well aware how you feel about losing your independence, Belle,’ came Brian’s reply.

  She smiled as they reached the carriage. ‘Yes, that’s what they all think of me, isn’t it? That I’m terrified of marriage because it would make me look weak, having to depend on some man – plus my deformity. It might have been that way once – that, and my distrust of men – but not any more. I’ve grown up enough to realise that none of us can be totally independent – and I do find you very trustworthy, Brian.’ A fond grin. ‘But I still won’t marry you, simply because it would be too deceitful.’

  There was a finality about her words that robbed Brian of the hope he had carried for five years. Yet still he doggedly refused to let go. He watched her climb into the carriage, saying despairingly, ‘Well… if you don’t mind, I’ll continue to deceive myself for a while longer.’ He climbed up beside her and gave a huge sigh. ‘Oh, Belle… I wish that just for tonight you could be a man, so you’d know how hard these five years of celibacy have been for me.’

  ‘If I were a man you’d hardly be asking me to marry you.’ Her voice was as flippant as ever, but Belle had turned thoughtful. ‘Anyway,’ she challenged as he picked up the reins, ‘if you’re talking about sex, I would have thought that you were modern enough to know that women have those urges too.’

  There was something in the way she had said that. Brian made no move to set the horse in motion, but turned to look at her. ‘And what do you do to ease them?’

  She smiled and averted her face. ‘That’s a bit personal, Doctor – and risky; I could ask you what you do about yours.’

  He was still looking at her. ‘There’d be nothing to tell.’ He sat there staring at her with the reins in his hands, then gave a little laugh as he finally whipped up the horse. ‘You were right that time you said I didn’t really know you…’

  ‘Don’t feel too bad about it,’ she said to the night sky, ‘nobody does.’

  ‘All these years I’ve been proposing marriage, doing the honourable thing – maybe if I’d simply asked you to share my bed…’

  She turned to look at him now, saw the expression in his eyes. ‘I don’t want to mislead you, Brian. There’s been no drastic change. I still only see you as my friend and I can’t offer you a torrid love affair.’

  Brian felt a thrill in the pit of his stomach, but managed to keep his voice even and his eyes on the horse. ‘I’ve told you, I’ll do without the romance.’

  She put a hand on his arm and said earnestly, ‘But wouldn’t you feel I was using you?’

  ‘I’ve been waiting five years for you to use me, Belle.’ She gave an embarrassed chuckle. ‘Well… let’s just see what happens when we get home, shall we?’ And they both fell silent to reflect.

  Thomasin gave a final wave as their carriage turned out of the drive, then took Patrick’s arm. ‘Away, let’s get you home to bed.’

  ‘What about me nightcap?’

  ‘I think you’ve already had it, haven’t you?’ Standing next to him she had smelt the whiskey.

  ‘Sorry…’ He looked guilty. ‘I did behave meself though, didn’t I?’

  She smiled a pardon and nodded.

  ‘So will ye stop marking the bottles an’ trust me to do me own regulating?’

  ‘If you think you can manage it.’

  ‘Listen.’ He put his face down to hers and murmured sensuously, ‘When we get home I’ll show ye I can manage all sorts o’ things.’

  She laughed and flirted with him like a young girl as they took to their own carriage.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  ‘Come here, Win.’ Nick beckoned his fiancee over to the sofa.

  ‘You come here if you want me – and I’m beginning to wonder about that!’ Three years after their meeting and still he hadn’t named the day, always too obsessed with finding some way to impress his grandmother. The two thousand pounds sat in the bank – earning interest, true, but otherwise unproductive.

  ‘Aw, Win.’ He bowed to her wish and came over to where she stood. ‘You know how much I want you!’

  ‘I know how much you want that directorship. I’m just not sure where I stand in relation to that.’ She nibbled her lip. ‘I love you, Nicholas… but maybe it might be as well if we called the engagement off.’

  ‘Eh, don’t make threats you don’t mean,’ he scolded.

  She spun away from him. ‘You’re so damned sure of yourself, aren’t you! Well, I’m not going to be put off forever. I’ve helped you as much as I can to get the position you want but I’m not prepared to wait another year. And if you really loved me you wouldn’t expect it.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Directorship or no, you set a wedding date for no later than the end of this year… or it’s over.’

  He gazed into her face. She meant it. Slowly, he got down on his knees and took hold of her fingertips, face deadly serious. ‘Win… I realise I’ve been totally selfish in making you wait. So, I’d better do it properly, hadn’t I?’ He kissed her fingers, then inhaled. ‘Will you do me the honour of being my bride this year?’

  Her lips parted in astonishment at his surrender and once again she was the pliable creature he was used to. ‘Oh, Nick…’

  ‘I couldn’t lose you, could I?’ he whispered earnestly. ‘We’ll set the date right now – would October be soon enough?’

  ‘Oh, yes!’ She clasped his hands to her breast, touched that for once he had put her before his work. ‘I didn’t mean to bully you – and I’ll do my utmost to help you get round your grandmother.’

  ‘Oh, you needn’t trouble yourself about that, Win!’ His air changed to one of gaiety. ‘It’s all in the bag.’ At her vacant stare he grinned devilishly. ‘I was going to name the day anyway – that’s what I wanted to do when I said “come here”.’

  ‘You…!’ She gave him a hefty shove with her knee and he fell away from her, laughing. ‘Miserable villain!’ But she was amused. ‘How have you managed to do it, then?’

  He pulled himself to his feet and put his arms round her. ‘Well, it’s not quite completed yet… but come October you’ll be married to a director.’ His eyes sparkled as he ground his body into hers. ‘I don’t suppose you want to practise being a wife…?’

  She stopped his hands from wandering too far. ‘You’ve made me wait, you can do the same. Can I tell my parents?’

  He kissed her nose. ‘Just keep it under your hat for a wee bit longer – I have to work on my grandparents first.’

  * * *

  A few days after his pact with Winnie, Nick made a trip to York to see his grandfather and asked if Patrick would lend him the pasture land which he owned on Malton Road. ‘Just for a short time – I’d pay rent, naturally.’

  ‘Be buggered the money.’ Patrick waved aside any question of rent. ‘Why would I want to charge my grandson for what’ll belong to him in a year or two – sooner, quite probably.’

  ‘Ah, you’ll last a good while yet, Grandad.’

  ‘I will if it’s flattery that’s keeping me alive.’

  ‘It is yours and not Nan’s, isn’t it?’ asked Nick with a hint of anxiety.

  ‘It is, though I don’t see as that matters. But tell me, what does a young buck like yourself want with pastureland?’

  ‘Horses,’ came the succinct reply. ‘I’m going to buy some.’

  ‘For racing? Sure, I
hope they have more luck than the stumers I put me dollars on.’

  Nick shook his head. ‘Not for racing, no – you’ll keep quiet about this for a while?’

  ‘Oh, if it’s a secret better not tell me.’

  ‘It’ll only be one for a few months,’ said Nick assuredly. ‘It’s a kind of surprise for Nan. Can I have it, then?’

  ‘Well, now.’ Patrick placed his right hand below his ribs and winced but Nick failed to see the look of discomfort. ‘I think you’re about to be disappointed – I already rented it to a Mr Kettlewell yesterday.’ Pat was barely aware of what he did or did not own these days. When Kettlewell had approached him the Irishman had accepted his first offer with no haggling. ‘Truth, if I’d known ye wanted it, Nick…’

  This didn’t deter the young man’s eagerness. ‘If I can get him to change his mind would I be able to have it then – what’s he want it for, by the way?’

  ‘Sheep, I think. Sure, ye can have it, boyo… How’s that Win o’ yours? Are we going to see a wedding this year?’ At Nick’s secretive wink he smiled and pressed a finger to his lips. After a further period of conversation Nick left. Before reaching into his pocket the old man made quite sure the door was closed, then pulled out a bottle, uncorked it and downed a long swig, grimacing afterwards. He then went back to his modest ration of whiskey.

  * * *

  ‘Hosses!’ exploded Thomasin to Francis after another board meeting at Leeds. ‘I gave him two thousand pounds so’s he can show me what he’s worth and he wastes it on a bunch of nags.’

  ‘Frankly, I can’t see Nick as a horsey person, Thomasin.’ Francis tried to soothe her.

  ‘You’re right, he isn’t! If you could see the motley selection that’s filling up my fields… hundreds o’ the blessed things. What the devil is he up to?’