A Dinner Of Herbs (63 page)

catching at hers, saying, “ You understand, lass, don’t you? “

Mary Ellen didn’t speak, she merely nodded her head. Oh, she understood, and she was

with him every

step of the way. She too wanted to show that big upstart what they had achieved, and by tomorrow this

time she’d have every bit of silver out on the table; she’d have flowers in vases; she’d have fresh curtains

in the sitting-room. If she had to stay up all night, she’d have everything spruce for the morrow.

Hal rose now and, as if picking up her thoughts, he said, “I’d better get out of these togs, because by

this time the morrow anybody will be able to eat their meat off that yard outside. I’ll work those three

beggars until the fat drops off them.”

Mary Ellen’s voice was quiet now as she said, “I think we’d better tell them what it’s all about first.

What d’you say, Kate?”

“Yes, Mam, yes.”

Mary Ellen was surprised at the way her da ugh taken the news. It was if there was

nothing un tow

red-letter day in her life the day she was to meet 1 father. She couldn’t know that there was noth relief in

Kate’s whole being, for now she had think, time to plan, time to enjoy this love that ha into her life,

before Ben’s identity should be reve

There had been no mention of Roddy’s wife accompanying him. It had been taken for

granted that she

would come. In speaking of her later that night in the bedroom, Hal had described her as a well-dressed

snipe who should have been wearing the trousers, because he had gauged within minutes

who ruled the

roost in that set-up. To Mary Ellen’s enquiry, he had answered that she looked nearly as old as old Kate

had done. He had admitted that this was an exaggeration but stated firmly that she looked old enough to

be Roddy’s mother, and that for the short time he had been with them she had acted as if she was, using

words of endearment that had made him uneasy, like one would use to a hairn: darling

this, and my love

that. When Mary Ellen had asked if he looked happy, Hal had paused a long while before answering,

“I’ll leave you to make up your own mind about that when you see him... And now the

house and all of

them were ready. Despite herself, Mary Ellen was experiencing a fluttering behind her

breast bone.

Hal had taken the trap to meet the train at Hexham. That was two hours or more ago, so he should be

here any minute.

It was a lovely day. They’d had a little rain in the night, nothing that would do much good, but it had laid

the dust and freshened the air. The long windows in the sitting—room were wide open,

looking on to the

newly cut stretch of grass, and the white lace curtains were fluttering gently in the breeze.

In the

dining-room the table was laid for high tea and Annie, looking for a space to put down one last dish of

small pies, remarked caustically. Think the Queen was dropping in. If I’d had my way he would have

got short shrift. By! he would that.

You’re daft. You know that, Mary Ellen, you’re daft, laying on all this. If he’s as big a noise as you

make out this won’t impress him.

Likely been wined and dined like royalty afore now. To my mind he’s got a damn nerve

to show his

face. “ She lifted her head and stared at Mary Ellen who was standing looking out of the window, from

where she could see the drive that led round to the front door. But then, her voice

dropping, she ended,

“ How are you feeling about it? “

Mary Ellen turned to her and pulled a slight face before answering:

“I’m looking forward to it in a way.”

“Hal not troubled?”

“About me? Huh!” She gave a laugh.

“No, Hal’s got me where he wants me, has had for years and he knows that.”

“Aye, yes, you’ve had a good life together, you two. Rough passage afore, but you’ve

made up for it.”

“And you’ve helped, Annie.” Mary Ellen’s voice was soft, and she went on, “I couldn’t

have done

without you in those early days. Although he was all in all to me, I needed someone, a mother, and you

were better than most I’ve come across.”

She watched Annie wag her head now, purse her lips, take up the end of her long white

apron and blow

her nose on it. Then almost on a bark, she turned on Mary Ellen, crying, “This is a time to tell me, isn’t

it? You know how me nose goes whenever I bubble.” Her eyes blinking and her face

crumpled, she

stared across at Mary Ellen. Then her voice low, she muttered, “I’ll have to put some

flour on it,” and

turning, she hurried out of the room. And Mary Ellen, drooping her head, smiled to

herself as she

muttered, “Oh, Annie. Annie.”

What she had said was true; she had been lucky to have Annie in those struggling years when she was

starting on a new life. Now the old life was about to reappear, and she wasn’t afraid for herself, but she

was for Kate. Yet she had been amazed at the way Kate had taken the news, showing no

great

excitement. It was as if she was to meet up with an everyday event:

there was a calmness about her that was puzzling. But then she had been puzzled in other ways a great

deal of late. But where was she now? She must go and fetch her. Or should she wait to

have a talk

with him first?

She swung round as she heard the wheels of the trap on the drive.

There was no time now to go and search for her. She hurried out of the room, across the hall to the

open front door, and there she stood, watching Hal bring the trap to a standstill. Then he got down and

was followed by another man. There was no woman with them.

Her mouth fell into a slight gape as the man walked slowly towards her. Hal had prepared her, in a way,

for what to expect, but in her mind’s eye she was still seeing the young virile looking Roddy Greenbank.

But this big hulk of a man was no Roddy Greenbank. There was nothing recognizable

about him, not

even his eyes. He was indeed like a man gone to seed.

“Hello, Mary Ellen.” The voice too was different. It had a foreign sound to it, as if

English was his

second language.

“Good gracious, you’ve hardly altered.” His look of appraisal covered her from head to foot, and the

tone of his voice touched on surprise and was it slight pique?—at how kindly the years had dealt with

her.

“Come in,” she said.

“Come in.” And he followed her into the hall, but immediately stopped and gazed around him, and after

a second or so he said, “My! My!” And Hal coming behind him said, “What d’you mean?

My!

My! “ as if he didn’t know what the exclamation meant.

“Well, it’s em ... a ... a very nice hall. That’s what I mean.”

He was about to go towards the open door Mary Ellen was now holding open, when two

figures

appeared at the top of the shallow stairs, and he stopped again and looked at them

descending. And

Hal, going towards them, said, “These are my daughters’—he pointed “ Maggie and

Florrie. “

The two girls stood staring for a moment at this man who was Kate’s real father before giving the

smallest of curtseys and saying, one after the other, “Good-day, sir.

“Good-day. Good-day. My! aren’t we pretty.” He glanced at Hal while still addressing

them, saying,

“You certainly don’t take after this old codger.” His manner was hearty, friendly.

Mary Ellen’s voice now came from the doorway: Take the tea into the dining-room,

Maggie,” she

called, and on this the girls, still smiling, turned away and hurried towards the kitchen, their best dresses

making a froufrou sound.

He was now in the middle of the sitting-room, and once again looking around him, and

when he said,

“Very nice room, very nice,” there was definitely a note of condescension now in his

voice. And when

he added, “It’s almost as big as my salon at home,” Hal could hold his tongue no longer, and in his

roughest voice he said, “Sit down, man, and drop your cloak off. Remember that we

know each other

of old.

Whoever you’re out to impress, it isn’t us. “

The man’s face was red now. His already full cheeks puffed out a little more and his

voice held a trace

of its original tone as he now came back, saying, “Well, there’s certainly one thing, the years haven’t

altered you.”

“I never intended them to, but I’ve listened to your bragging since we left Hexham and I’ve had enough

of it. Now let’s be ourselves, shall we? You know what you’ve come for, well....”

“Hal.” Mary Ellen’s voice was quiet.

“Stop that. Enough is enough.”

Now she turned to Roddy and said, “Sit yourself down. I’m sorry about this.”

Roddy sat down, and his attitude now was recognizable to them both when, bending

forward, he placed

his elbows on his knees and joined his hands together and quietly he said, “I’m sorry too.

As you so

rightly said, it’s a cloak.” He now raised his eyes and looked towards Mary Ellen, saying,

“Life’s a funny

thing. If we could think at twenty as we do at forty, how different things would be.”

Hal had always told himself there was one thing he was sure of, and that was Mary

Ellen’s feelings for

him. The love she had once given to this fellow was dead as any corpse in the cemetery.

But there she

was, looking at him tenderly, pity in her glance.

“Be damned!” he muttered to himself, then broke in, “Will I tell Kate?”

Mary Ellen turned her gaze from Roddy, saying quietly now, “Fetch the lads in.”

“The lads afore Kate? No.” He stared at her hard before marching from the room, and she turned and

looked at Roddy again, but did not speak for a moment. Presently, she said, “Kate doesn’t look like me

... she has your height, but that is all.”

He did not answer but continued to stare at her, and now she smiled at him, saying, “I’m glad to hear

you are so successful, Roddy. It must be a great feeling to have achieved all that, I mean, having

exhibitions of your work.”

“Yes, yes.” His reply sounded dull, and there followed another silence before she asked very quietly,

“Are you happy?”

“Happy?” He repeated the word; then on a louder note he said, “Oh, yes. Yes, I’m

happy.” And

having made the declaration almost vehemently he became quiet while staring at her.

And now he asked

in a tone that she had never heard even the Roddy Greenbank that she remembered use

because in it

there was a well of sadness. He muttered, “If I can speak the truth for once in my life, I can say now,

Mary Ellen, I’ve never known a day’s real happiness from the time that I last saw you.

You were

washing, I remember, your arms all soapy suds, and you had turned all the stuff out of the cottage, and

you brought the child down from the attic. That was the morning you told me you loved

Hal and that you

were going to marry him, and that what you’d had for me was a girlish fancy, like one of the pains of

growing up. I think it was from that morning that I realized what I’d lost.”

She got to her feet, saying, “Now, Roddy, the past’s past, we can’t go back. And I must tell you straight

that what I said that morning, I still say: there’s nobody in the world for me but Hal.”

He was on his feet too now, his voice low, his words quick.

“Yes, yes, I know, but you asked and I had to tell you. I’ll just say this and no more, I envy him. I

suppose that’s why I’ve played the big fellow ever since I’ve met him. Understand?”

“Yes.” She nodded at him.

“Yes, Roddy, I understand. But your wife, don’t you get on?”

“Oh ... oh.” He threw back his head now.

“Oh, yes we get on. She’s the world’s organizer. I’m where I am today because of her;

without her I’d

still be doing some hack work in a back room in somebody’s office. Oh, I’ve got a lot to thank her for.”

His tone was becoming light again and with it he was choosing his words as he went on,

“There’s

different aspects to life. If one market closes on you, don’t worry, try another. That’s what Mary says.

And she’s right, it works.”

He turned now as the door opened. He watched Hal push it wide. Then there came into

the room a tall

big-made woman. She was wearing a grey taffeta silk skirt and matching blouse. Her hair was black

and straight and dressed in coils on each side of her head. But his eyes were riveted on her face. Mary

Ellen had said their daughter wasn’t like her and that she took after him only in height.

And she was

right. My God! he said to himself, she was right. This woman was plain. Yet. yet. The

artist in him

searched for a word to fit her. The bone structure of her face was prominent, the cheek bones high, the

jaws squarish. On a man he could have depicted a god with the same features. But here

was a woman.

She was standing but two yards from him now and he was looking into her eyes. Now

here was

something, here was something. They were beautiful eyes, her one good feature. But her lips were well

formed too.

“How do you do.”

He was amazed at the sound of her voice: it was like a soft musical note coming out of a large unwieldy

instrument. Yet no, she wasn’t unwieldy, her body was magnificent from an artist’s point of view. Put

her on a dais in Paris and they would go mad about her. But here she was, his daughter.