A Mother's Grace

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by Rosie Goodwin


  Grace felt as if the woman’s voice was coming from a long way away. She was trapped in a nightmare, surely, and she would wake up in a minute and all of this would just have been a terrible dream. But it wasn’t a dream and slowly it began to sink in. Her mother was gone, she would never see her again and she hadn’t even been here to say goodbye to her.

  ‘And how is Jacob? Does he know?’ Gertie forced herself to ask.

  It was Mabel who answered, Mrs Batley was crying too hard. ‘He’s the same, no change. And yes, he does know.’

  ‘Right then, I suggest we get something hot into this young lady,’ Aunt Gertie ordered. ‘She’s had a long journey and she’s in shock.’ So far Grace hadn’t shed a single tear but her aunt had no doubt they would come later and the sooner the better as far as she was concerned. It would do her no good to bottle things up. Mabel scuttled away to lift the singing kettle from the range and make the tea as Gertie eased Grace’s arms out of her coat. The girl just sat there and let her do it.

  ‘I couldn’t let you know we were coming because the snow brought the telephone lines down,’ she told them. ‘But I’d be grateful if you could get a couple of bedrooms ready for us. We will no doubt be staying for a while now. There will be things that need seeing to.’

  Mrs Batley heaved a sigh of relief. Gertie was obviously thinking of the funeral. ‘Miss Grace’s room is just as she left it. It’ll only need the fire lightin’ an’ a hot brick puttin’ in the bed. An’ it’ll take us no time at all to get another room ready for you.’

  ‘And where is Madeline now?’ Gertie asked then with a catch in her voice. As painful as it was someone had to take control and get things organised.

  ‘The undertakers came an’ took her away to the chapel o’ rest after the doctor had been an’ issued the death certificate this mornin’,’ Harry told them grimly.

  Gertie nodded. ‘Right, it’s too late to do anything else today. I suggest we all get a good night’s rest and then I will speak to Madeline’s solicitor first thing in the morning. Jacob is clearly in no state to do it. I assume she had a solicitor?’

  ‘Oh yes, she did.’ Mrs Batley sniffed and nodded vigorously. ‘It was Mr Mackenzie from the master’s law firm in the town. She had him out here not so long ago to make a new will an’ me an’ Nurse Matthews witnessed it for her. He’s been back a few times since an’ all for signatures an’ things.’

  ‘Good, then that should make things easier.’ Gertie sank into the chair opposite Grace and gratefully accepted the tea that Mabel offered as silence settled on the room. Suddenly it seemed there was little left to say.

  Sometime later Mrs Batley served dinner, hot jacket potatoes dripping with butter and a steaming cottage pie, but none of them seemed to have much of an appetite and they merely picked at the food. Grace didn’t even attempt to eat hers at all and most of it was thrown away. The only one who did it justice was Nurse Matthews. As Mrs Batley confided later that evening, the woman had an appetite like a horse.

  ‘So, how has Jacob taken the news of his wife’s death?’ Gertie asked the nurse, who was piling her plate high.

  ‘It’s hard to tell with him not being able to speak,’ she answered with butter dripping down her chin.

  ‘Hmm, well I dare say I should come up to see him.’ Gertie didn’t look overly enthusiastic. ‘Although, as you say, I doubt he will be able to express his wishes regarding her funeral. I suppose there is no chance of him attending?’

  The nurse shook her head. ‘None whatsoever. He can’t even get out of bed, he’s completely paralysed down one side.’

  Gertie nodded. ‘Very well. Then unless she expressed any preferences in her will, Grace and I will have to do as we think she would have wished.’ She leaned over and squeezed Grace’s hand. That small action from her usually undemonstrative aunt was Grace’s undoing, for suddenly the tears sprang to her eyes, sparkling on her long dark lashes before gushing down her cheeks.

  Almost an hour later, Gertie stood outside Jacob’s bedroom door with Grace at her side and steeled herself to face him.

  ‘Ready?’ She gave Grace an encouraging smile and when the girl nodded she tapped at the door and entered.

  Jacob’s head turned immediately in her direction and she tried hard not to let her shock show on her face. He was a wreck and it was hard to remember him as he had once been: upright and handsome.

  ‘Jacob.’ She inclined her head as his eyes bored into hers. They had never had any respect for each other and she hadn’t expected things to be different now.

  ‘I have asked Harry to request Mr Mackenzie to visit me first thing in the morning and then I will make the funeral arrangements for Madeline.’

  His response was a grunt but his eyes had already left hers and were seeking Grace who stood close behind her. Grace nervously stepped into his line of vision and instantly his face softened and he held his hand out to her imploringly. Grace hesitated then took a step closer, clearly reluctant to touch him, and pain flashed in his eyes as he began to make guttural noises.

  ‘Now, now, the patient is becoming agitated, perhaps it would be better if you came back later.’ Nurse Matthews hurried to stand protectively at the side of the bed but he growled deep in his throat and lashed out at her as Grace retreated further back towards the door. Aunt Gertie ushered her out onto the landing, alarmed to see that the colour had drained from Grace’s face and she was shaking.

  ‘There’s no need for you to go back in there if you have no wish to,’ she told her niece. ‘But now come along to your room. You’ve had a long tiring day. Everything will look a little better after a good night’s sleep.’

  Grace doubted that anything would ever look better again but she did as she was told.

  The next day, Mr Mackenzie sat opposite Gertie in the drawing room as she stared back at him, her back straight and her hands folded primly in her lap.

  ‘First of all, may I offer my condolences?’ he said politely. ‘Mrs Kettle was a genuinely lovely person and I’m sure that she will be sadly missed.’

  Gertie inclined her head as he removed Madeline’s last will from his bag and perched his steel-framed glasses on the end of his nose. He then cleared his throat and began, ‘Ahem … it is usually customary to read the will following the funeral service but Mrs Kettle specifically requested that should anything happen to her I should share it with you right away. It is all very straightforward fortunately. She wishes you to now become Grace’s legal guardian until she comes of age. I shall ensure that Grace has an allowance each month and also make an allowance to you to cover her board and keep should she wish to return to Wales with you for the foreseeable future. That, of course, will be entirely her decision. I have also promised to make sure that Mrs Batley has a sum of money each month to cover the running costs of the house, food, coal and the staff wages. However, should Judge Kettle recover sufficiently he will then take over control of his finances again, but Mrs Kettle did state that should this happen she would prefer Grace to stay with you.’ He shook his head at this stage. ‘Unfortunately, Dr Busby informs me that this is unlikely to happen. Indeed, the chances are that he could have another seizure at any time and it is unlikely he would survive it. The funeral arrangements Mrs Kettle was content to leave up to you and Grace. She thought perhaps Grace would wish to choose the hymns for the service, etc. Finally, should anything happen to the judge, the house, contents and any monies would all pass to Grace.’ He peered at her over the top of his glasses and enquired, ‘Is that all clear? Are there any questions you would like to ask?’

  ‘None at all thank you, sir.’ Gertie shook her head and he returned the will to his bag and took off his glasses.

  ‘Then in that case I will wish you good day, ma’am. I realise you have arrangements to make but if I can be of any assistance in any way at all please don’t hesitate to get in touch.’

  ‘Thank you, Mr Mackenzie.’ She rang the bell for Mabel who showed the lawyer to the door. Nurse Matthews was in
the hallway and he stopped to have a brief chat with her so Mabel left them to it.

  Gertie then went in search of Grace who she found sitting staring from her bedroom window. ‘Ah, here you are.’ After taking a seat, she carefully explained the contents of her mother’s will to her and Grace nodded. It was just what she would have expected.

  ‘If you don’t mind, Aunt Gertie, I think I would like to come and live with you in Wales,’ she said.

  Gertie nodded. ‘Of course I wouldn’t mind,’ she assured her.

  At her kind words, Grace bowed her head and wept broken-heartedly. Gertie gathered the girl’s shaking body into her arms and rocked her to and fro and Grace clung to her like a lifeline until the tears subsided slightly, then she frowned. ‘The trouble is, I don’t think my father will be very happy about me going,’ she choked.

  Gertie sniffed. ‘Your father has more than enough people here to look after him so don’t you get feeling guilty. You are far too young to be devoting your life to an invalid. When we get home we can perhaps think of something to fill your time so you don’t get bored. Your father is actually a very wealthy man so there is no need for you to work if you have no wish to.’

  ‘I want to do something but I don’t quite know what yet,’ Grace confessed miserably. All she could think about at that moment was the loss of her mother and what an enormous hole she would leave in her life. Without her, things would never be the same again.

  Her aunt patted her hand. ‘There’s plenty of time for you to think about it; no rush at all. Meanwhile I have the vicar calling shortly to make the arrangements for your mother’s funeral. Perhaps we could all sit down and plan it together?’

  Grace gulped as tears started to her eyes again. It seemed that they were never very far away at present.

  Two days later, Grace ventured into her father’s room again and once more he became agitated at the sight of her, holding his hand out to her imploringly. Grace knew that she should take it but the thought of touching him made her shudder so she stood a safe distance from the bed.

  ‘Mother’s funeral will be on Friday, Father,’ she informed him primly with her hands clasped tightly at her waist. ‘And when it is over I shall … I shall be returning to Wales with Aunt Gertie.’

  ‘Ugh … ugh … ugh!’ His head began to thrash wildly from side to side and dribble oozed down his chin, but still Grace made no move towards him.

  Seeing how distraught he was becoming, Nurse Matthews laid down the book she had been reading and hurried to the side of the bed.

  ‘You’d best leave, miss.’ The nurse was already pouring a few drops of laudanum into a glass of water. ‘You’re upsetting my patient.’

  Grace stared at her father for a second longer. Then, only too happy to do as she was told, she left, closing the door quietly behind her. Once outside the bedroom she stood for a moment with her hand pressed over her mouth. The man she had just left holding his hand out to her was her father but all she had felt for him was revulsion.

  On the day of the funeral the weather was abysmal. Rain lashed at the windows and the sky was low and grey. The service was conducted by Reverend Lockett, a long-standing friend of Madeline’s, but Grace hardly heard a word of it. The church was full to capacity. Every one of the lawyers from the firm that Jacob had inherited from his uncle were there to pay their respects as well as many of his colleagues from the court. Word had spread of Madeline’s death and, unfortunately, there were also some of the people Jacob had had staying at the house as his guests and Grace recognised one of them as the man who had waylaid her on the landing. He smiled at her lasciviously as she passed him in the church on her way to the front pew but she merely glared at him scornfully. And then came the interment but Grace didn’t cry. The grief she was feeling went way beyond tears. As she watched the rain wash across her mother’s fine mahogany coffin as it was lowered into the grave, and listened with half an ear as the reverend chanted the words of the burial service, she felt numb; the tears would come later.

  Aunt Gertie was gently nudging her and she realised with a start that it was time to throw the handful of earth she was holding into the grave. It landed with a dull thud on the coffin and the rain instantly turned it to mud that smeared the brass name plate. And then at last it was over and Aunt Gertie took her elbow and led her away as the freezing rain stung their faces.

  Back at the house Mrs Batley and Mabel had laid on a spread fit for a king and many of the mourners took full advantage of it, but Grace couldn’t eat a thing. Instead she found a quiet corner and tried to hide away. People constantly approached her to offer their condolences but she could find no words so simply inclined her head, hoping they would soon go away. At last she heard the door close on the last guest and then Mrs Batley and Mabel were busy carrying the dirty pots to the kitchen. Normally Grace would have happily pitched in to help but today she sat on, locked away in her own little world of grief.

  ‘Poor little lass.’ Mrs Batley sighed as she emptied a tray full of dirty glasses onto the large wooden draining board. ‘She don’t even seem to be aware o’ what day it is.’

  Mabel nodded in agreement as she paused to throw some nuggets of coal onto the fire. ‘Well they do say as grief takes different folks different ways. Perhaps she’ll be better when she’s away from here. It ain’t exactly been a happy house fer some time has it?’

  ‘Huh! How could it be wi’ that evil bugger lyin’ up there,’ Mrs Batley snorted. ‘Still, he’s had his comeuppance now ain’t he? They do say as what goes around comes around. I did think we might see an improvement in him once Grace was back home but if anythin’ he’s been worse. Nurse Matthews says his temper is somethin’ terrible at the moment. Happen it’s ’cos Grace won’t go in to see him. I reckon the lass has made the right decision – about goin’ to live wi’ her aunt I mean, though I confess I’ll miss her somethin’ chronic.’

  ‘We all will,’ Mabel agreed. ‘But I think she’ll have a better life away from this place. Most lasses her age are out an’ about havin’ the time o’ their lives but that poor little lamb ain’t never been given no freedom. She ain’t even been allowed to have any proper friends here. The only real one she had was the one that died in Wales, poor little mite. But hopefully that will all change when she’s livin’ in Wales again.’

  The two women then went on with what they were doing and for now the subject of Grace’s future was put on hold.

  ‘So, do you want to go into your father and say goodbye?’ Gertie asked Grace on the day they were due to leave. The majority of Grace’s clothes had been packed into trunks and were now stashed in the back of the car. Harry would be driving them to the station and Grace was pleased about that. Harry seemed to have changed since her father had become bedridden. He was more confident now that her father could no longer make him feel inferior and she was delighted to see that he and Mabel were now very close.

  ‘I suppose I should.’ Grace didn’t look like she wanted to but she climbed the stairs all the same.

  Jacob’s eyes found hers the instant she set foot in the room and once again his one good hand reached out to her but she chose to ignore it.

  ‘I’m going now, Father,’ she informed him coldly.

  ‘G … Gr … Gr …’ Sweat broke out on his brow and his fist pummelled the bed in his frustration. ‘N … no … no …’

  Grace merely stared at him for a moment then she said quietly, ‘I blame you for Mother’s death. If you hadn’t come to my room that night and …’ She gulped deep in her throat as the painful memories came rushing back. Then suddenly all the hatred she now felt for him poured out of her. ‘If it hadn’t been for you and your sick obsession with me she might still be here. Her heart had never been strong and what happened that night was just too much for her. But you don’t care, do you? You never loved her as she deserved to be loved. I wonder if you know how to love anyone, even me!’

  His head wagged from side to side but he no longer had the power to move h
er.

  ‘You treated mother no better than you treated the staff. Do you even care that not one of them likes you or has any respect for you? Well, it doesn’t matter now. Your rule is over and I don’t care if I never set eyes on you again. I’m only sorry for them having to stay here to take care of you.’

  Somehow, he had worked his way almost to the edge of the mattress in his distress and he looked as if he might slide out of bed at any minute. But Grace made no move to help him, she felt nothing for him now, not even pity. ‘I believe the saying goes, “what you reap you shall sow”. Goodbye, Father.’ And with that she walked away and didn’t once look back. Deep inside she prayed that she would never have to look on him again. He was as dead to her now as her mother was.

  As Harry drove them to the station they spotted Nurse Matthews heading purposely into town. It was her day off and Grace was surprised to see how different she looked out of her uniform.

  ‘She’s all dolled up like a dog’s dinner,’ Gertie commented. ‘I wonder if she’s got someone to meet?’

  Grace shrugged, not caring much what the woman did with her spare time. She didn’t care about anything at the moment, she was too locked in grief.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  ‘Why, Dylan, lad, I didn’t expect to see you here,’ Gertie said in surprise as she stepped from the train onto the platform in Pwllheli. Dylan, who was dressed in his Sunday best, blushed furiously.

  ‘Me nan told me you were due home today so I thought I’d ride in with me grandad to meet you.’ He twisted his cap in his hand as his eyes shifted to Grace, whose skin was waxen, but she didn’t even look at him.

  ‘Well, now that you’re here you may as well help with the luggage.’ Gertie waved to a porter and sent him off to fetch the boxes and trunks from the luggage van. ‘I’ll get Grace out to the trap while you wait for them,’ Gertie said and shooed Grace ahead of her onto the cobbled street. The smell of the sea air met her and she breathed deeply, relieved to be home. Aled helped Grace climb up onto the back seat and tucked a warm rug across her legs as he glanced worriedly at Gertie.

 

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