by Anne Bennett
There was crisp snow on the ground on Christmas morning, for the previous day’s fall had frozen overnight. Both Martha and Maria thought it too cold to take the babies out. ‘Anyway,’ Martha said, ‘the pram will be the very devil to push in this.’
‘I’ll stay here and go to a later Mass,’ Sean said.
‘No, I will,’ said Patsy. ‘You should be together at Christmas.’
‘If you are sure…‘
‘Course I am.’
‘Do me a favour then, Patsy, and give Barney a shout in about half an hour, will you?’ Maria said. ‘And I’ll have another go when I come home. He must have one hell of a hangover from the state he was in last night, but if he doesn’t get up, he will miss Mass altogether.’
Patsy decided she wouldn’t just call him, but take him a cup of tea. She remembered how thirsty she had been the first and last time she’d had a hangover of any significance. She quite often felt delicate in the mornings now, and sometimes queasy, or might have a bit of a headache, but nothing like that first time. But before she could do this there were the babies to see to, and they were more of a handful now that they were both on the move. She gave them both a drink and a biscuit, threw a load of toys into the large playpen Sean had bought to keep them safe, and left them both in there while she took the cup of tea to Barney.
He took some time to rouse. When at last he opened his eyes he shut them tight against the light. ‘Jesus, dammit, what are you at, shaking me like that?’
‘Barney, it’s me, Patsy.’
‘I don’t give a holy shit who it is.’
Barney had never spoken to Pasty in that way before and she was taken aback, but she remembered how she had felt and said, ‘I’ve brought you some tea.’
That brought Barney’s bleary eyes open again and slowly he pushed himself up in the bed. Patsy saw with a little consternation that, on his top half anyway, he was bare. He had a mass of black hair on his chest.
Barney saw her discomfort, but made no comment on it. Instead, he took the cup from her, drained the scalding liquid with a couple of good swallows, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he put the cup on the table by the bed. ‘God, that was a life saver.’
He patted the bed. ‘Why don’t you sit down?’
Maria was nervous and she ran her tongue over her lips. ‘Better not.’
Before she could do a thing about it, Barney’s arm shot out. He grasped her hand and gave a tug so that she fell onto the bed in a heap. Barney was becoming frustrated with Patsy. He’d been taking her out for almost a year and was no further forward with her, and he didn’t intend to wait much longer. He had decided by the New Year he wanted to have shown Patsy what she had been missing all this time and this was a heaven-sent opportunity.
Still holding her hand, he began to massage it gently between his fingers. ‘There,’ he said huskily. ‘That’s better, isn’t it?’
Patsy nearness was arousing him so much, he thought if she could see beneath the covers she would be scared to death. As it was, Patsy was realising it had been foolish to come into Barney’s bedroom. The look in his eyes was frightening her a little.
‘I have to go,’ she said, trying to get up, but Barney didn’t let go of her.
‘Not yet awhile,’ he said. ‘Can’t I have a kiss for Christmas?’
‘Barney, I—’
‘Just one little Christmas kiss?’ Barney pleaded. ‘It’s not much to ask, especially as I am feeling like death. Come on, I need cheering up.’
Thinking she would humour him, Patsy bent her head and when their lips touched it was as if an explosion happened in Barney. He grabbed Patsy and pulled her on top of him while he kissed her in a frenzy of desire, his tongue darting in and out of her mouth. She fought him at first and then she was kissing him back, hardly aware what she was doing, for strange yearnings were flooding Patsy’s whole being. She didn’t understand them fully, but knew she didn’t want them to stop.
‘Ah Patsy, Patsy,’ Barney said, releasing her lips at last. ‘I have wanted this so much, and for so long. I’ll never hurt you, so don’t worry.’
‘What are you talking about?’ Patsy asked, still breathless from the kiss.
‘You just slip in here beside me.’ Barney said, moving the covers over, ‘and, God, I’ll transport you to Paradise.’
Patsy was on her feet in an instant. ‘Barney, I couldn’t do that. How can you even suggest such a thing?’
‘You want it as much as me, if you would only listen to your own body,’ Barney snapped. ‘The kiss said as much.’
‘Yeah, well, the kiss was a mistake.’
‘Some mistake.’ Barney said, grabbing at her suddenly and yanking her into the bed beside him. He was totally naked—she soon realised that—and he pushed her hand down on to his stiff and throbbing penis, just as Sally let out one of her ear-splitting yells.
Patsy was feeling sick and dirty. She had never seen a man’s penis, let alone held one in her hand, but Barney’s mouth was covering hers, one arm surrounding her so she was unable to pull away. His tongue was darting teasing her mouth. With a sense of horror she felt herself responding. Her hand was being pushed up and down Barney’s penis and she heard him groaning.
She stiffened. What the hell was she doing, she thought, and the next moment she was fighting like a wild cat. She tore her mouth from Barney’s and bit the hand that tried to restrain her.
He gave a yell. ‘What the hell, you bloody little sod! he cried, looking at the blood dripping on to the coverlet before sticking his injured hand in his mouth.
‘Leave me alone,’ Patsy demanded. ‘Let me go.’ Barney’s attention was centred on his throbbing hand and he had relaxed his grip on Patsy. She pulled her hand away and brought her knee up sharp. He gave a moan of pain, but when Patsy tried to get out of the bed, her legs got tangled in the covers and Barney was able to grab her again as she struggled.
‘By God, you’ll pay for that, you little tiger,’ he said, and slapped her hard across the face with the hand she had bitten. Patsy opened her mouth and screamed as loud as she possibly could.
‘Shut up, for Christ’s sake,’ Barney shouted over the noise, knowing such sustained screaming would eventually arouse the notice of the neighbours. ‘Give over. I’ve not touched you yet.’
Patsy continued to scream and then she suddenly yanked her hand. Taken unawares it slipped from Barney’s grasp and then she was off the bed, out of the room and down the stairs with the speed of light. She pulled Sally, awash with tears, red with temper and still crying, from the playpen. Sobbing herself in panic and fear, she went into the kitchen and picked up the carving knife, fully intending to let Barney have it if he came after her.
However, the skirmish with Patsy had taken it out of the hungover Barney and his hand was throbbing. He swung his legs out of bed and sat there for a minute or two, waiting for the tilting room to right itself and the dizziness in his head to ease, before making his groggy and shambling way to the bathroom where he vomited over and over. He was in no state to pursue anyone.
Maria felt herself soothed by the familiarity of the Mass that morning, the Latin words and responses that she had known from childhood, interspersed with beautiful carols. It had been just what she had needed after Barney’s assault on her body the night before, when he had been so rough and unfeeling she knew she would be bruised in many places, and had been feeling depressed by the whole scenario.
Outside they were greeted by many, and were making for home when Martha was hailed by Chloë’s mother.
‘How is dear Patsy getting on?’ she asked.
Martha laughed. ‘I should think you could tell me that,’ she said. ‘She’s at your house more than she is at her own.’
Chloe’s mother looked a little stunned. ‘At our house?’ she repeated. ‘You must be mistaken. Patsy hasn’t been to our house in months.’
Now it was Maria’s turn to look stunned. ‘You mean she doesn’t come round to do her homework
a couple of nights a week?’
‘No, as I said…‘
Maria, seeing that there were problems that were probably not for the boys’ ears, began to walk on with then. They were just as anxious to get home, for laid out on their bedroom floor was the train set Santa had left. At least Paul knew it was Santa and though Tony had his doubts, a train set was still a train set and it was just begging to be played with.
Sean, beside Martha, watched them walk out of earshot before he said, ‘Have they gone to concerts a time or two, or to the pictures?’
‘Not together. Chloe is mixing with a completely different set these days.’
‘Where is she?’ Martha said. ‘We will ask her.’
‘She isn’t here. She was in the choir at Midnight Mass, but your Patsy has given that up too, so Chloë was telling me. Said she needed time for her studies. Commendable, if a little sad. My dear, are you all right?’ she said, seeing the colour suddenly drain from Martha’s face.
‘She’s fine,’ Sean said. ‘It’s the fasting and the cold.’
‘Of course,’ said Chloë’s mother soothingly, but she knew that was not what had so upset Martha. It was because her daughter had been deceiving them. Why should a girl do that unless she was up to no good? She scurried home, anxious to regale her husband with this juicy snippet of gossip. She’d pump Chloë too, she decided, and find out just how much she knew.
Martha’s mind was screaming denial and yet she knew that what Chloë’s mother had said had been true. So where had Patsy been all those times she was supposed to be with Chloe, and who with? These were the questions to be asked. As soon as Martha was in the door, she told Patsy she wanted to see her in her room.
The latest encounter with Barney had shaken Patsy and she had begun to realise that Chloë was right. Barney wanted more that mere friendship and she knew exactly what he would have done to her had she not fought him off. The realisation made her feel physically sick. And then her mother was home and attacking her like a raging virago.
Everything was exposed, all the lies and deceit, the very things that Martha came down hard on.
‘Who were you with?’ she demanded. ‘That’s what I want to know.’
Patsy knew to be truthful here would not help her case, but she didn’t have a plausible lie to hand and so she shrugged. Martha grabbed her shoulders and shook her. ‘Don’t you shrug your shoulders at me, my girl, or I’ll give you a good hiding, big as you are. It was some boy, no doubt?’
It was better she believed that, Patsy thought, and she nodded dumbly.
‘Name?’ Martha rapped out.
Patsy shook her head. ‘Don’t want to tell you.’
‘By Christ, my father would have taken his belt off to me for less than half of what you have got up to.’
Patsy’s head shot up. ‘You don’t know what I have got up to.’
‘What I do know is a girl who says she is up at her friend’s house, or going out with her when she isn’t, is up to mischief of one kind or another. If a boy asked you out and he was a decent, honest boy that you could bring home and introduce properly, then I probably would have had no objection to you seeing him a time or two. But not like this—underhand and secretive. It points to the boy not being at all respectable. I just hope that you have respected yourself and not let this boy take liberties.’
‘I have, I mean I haven’t,’ Patsy said flustered, but the memory of that morning and the kiss that she had responded too so eagerly pushed itself to the forefront of her mind. She blushed with embarrassment and gave a sudden shudder.
Martha saw the flush and the shudder and put a different interpretation on it altogether. She felt for the bed and sat down, for her legs threatened to give way on her. ‘Holy Mother of God!’ she cried brokenly. ‘Have you forgotten everything I have ever taught you?’
Patsy stared at her mother. ‘You don’t think…you can’t imagine…‘
‘Patsy, I will ask you this one question,’ Martha said. ‘Think before you speak and tell me the truth. Did you go with this boy?’
‘I don’t need to think,’ Patsy cried. ‘The answer is no! No! No!’
Martha sagged with relief. ‘That is the absolute truth?’
Patsy nodded. ‘The absolute truth.’
‘And you still won’t give me this boy’s name?’
Patsy shook her head. ‘No,’ she said. ‘But you may as well know I had already decided just today, while you were at Mass, to end it.’
‘Good,’ Martha said. ‘And that would have happened anyway now, because after this performance, my girl, you’ll be lucky if you are allowed to put your nose outside the door for some time. Now get ready for Mass and, much as I would love to sit down now to a lovely Christmas breakfast, I will walk with you to the abbey to make sure you get there.’
Patsy was glad her mother was going with her, because she had dreaded meeting up with Barney on the way. She fully intended to dodge him after Mass too, but Sean was waiting for her when she came out of the church.
‘Is this how it is going to be from now on?’ she asked.
‘’Fraid so,’ Sean said. ‘But you brought it on yourself, Patsy, and proper upset your mother. She doesn’t deserve this, you know, because she loves you dearly. We both do and I don’t know why you ever doubted that.’
Every word was like a hammer blow to Patsy’s heart and she was engulfed with shame. She knew now Barney was wrong—wrong about many things—and she had been such a silly little fool to believe him. Both her mother and Sean cared about her, and loving Deirdre too had not changed that. She had let them down badly. She would make it up to them, she decided, and in time maybe they would learn to trust her again.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Barney was soon well aware that somehow Martha had found out that Patsy had been deceiving her, and though he knew Patsy couldn’t have involved him, because Martha wasn’t the sort to sit on that sort of information and do nothing about it, he still wanted to know exactly what she had said.
However, she was guarded too well and Patsy herself seemed to be steering well clear of any situations when they might be alone together. He supposed that he had really frightened her on Christmas Day.
Patsy actually felt burdened down with guilt and shame, and full of remorse. It was as if blinkers had been removed from her eyes and she saw Barney clearly for the first time. He was a drunk and a liar, not always kind to Maria, and took no notice of his own wee daughter. Patsy castigated herself for the fool she had been. She was very glad the relationship with him had gone no further and deeply regretted that one kiss when she had almost forgotten herself. She was aware that Barney was trying to have a word with her and she knew too that all he cared about was saving his own skin. Well, she thought, he can just sweat. It will do him good.
It was two days after Boxing Day and a Saturday when Martha asked Patsy to fetch the rations from Erdington as both she and Maria had very heavy colds. Patsy wrapped herself up well and had wellingtons on her feet, for the falling snow was being driven by the wind into drifts. It was bitingly cold.
It was as she turned for home that she saw Barney coming towards her and knew she would have to face him. She stepped back to where the overhang of the shop gave her some shelter and where she could put down the bags, which felt like a ton weight.
‘You have been avoiding me,’ Barney snapped as he drew near.
‘What if I have?’ Patsy retorted. ‘And do you blame me after you attacked me on Christmas morning?’
‘Don’t give me that,’ Barney snarled. ‘You came into my bedroom. You knew what you were about and then you got cold feet and now you are turning the blame on me. Anyway, I heard Martha going for you afterwards. How much does she know?’
Patsy sighed. She knew that Barney was right about one thing. She had gone into the bedroom, knowing he was in the bed. Who would ever believe that all she intended giving him was a cup of tea? No one would think a person could be that naïve. So she didn’t bother tryi
ng to defend herself, but instead said, ‘Well, Mom knows nothing about you—and not for your sake alone either. If I had spoken about you, it would have hurt too many people. Mom thinks I went out with some boy and she knows no more than that. So you can rest easy in your bed,’ she added mockingly, seeing the relief flood Barney’s face.
‘I should have known I could count on you,’ he said.
‘Count on me?’ Patsy repeated. ‘Yeah, once, bloody little fool that I was, you could have counted on me. What we did…I can hardly believe I was so stupid, but while I was wrong, you were worse, and all that stuff you said about Mom and Sean not caring for me was rubbish. I regret what I did with you, but I can’t change that. There is to be no more of it though.’
Barney looked at Patsy disparagingly. ‘You’re a cocky little sod.’
‘You can call me all the names you like,’ Patsy said with a shrug, ‘because your opinion doesn’t matter a jot to me.’
‘You cheeky bugger!’ Barney said through gritted teeth. ‘Don’t worry yourself, for I wouldn’t touch you with a barge pole.’
‘Good. Suits us both then.’
Barney longed to give Patsy a good hiding, talking to him like that. She felt the suppressed violence and saw the balled fists, yet faced him unafraid. Barney looked away first.
‘Go home to your mammy and daddy, little girl,’ he said mockingly. ‘I’m away for a pint.’
Patsy picked up the bags again as Barney walked away. A pint, that’s a laugh, she thought. A great many pints is more like it.
The weather worsened. Each day brought more snow, blown, by the gusting, billowing winds, into drifts, some big enough to cover a man. Each night the snow froze, making the roads and pavements like sheets of ice, which were then covered by more snow the next day.
Anyone who ventured out was in danger of being swept into a drift by the relentless wind, or slipping and breaking a limb. The cold was bone chilling; water pipes burst all over the city and affected power supplies. Few went to the sales that year, but the Evening Mail had pictures of the intrepid souls who did, to shops often lit by candles and served by those shop assistants who could make it to work, still wearing their outdoor coats.