i 3d091ef367b6a8bf (46 page)

686wrong side of the blanket and they belong all right. And you belong.' And her tone becoming lighter, she said, 'Now, what are you goin' to have? Let's get down to eatin', eh?' only to add with some concern, 'Don't you feel like anything?''Nothing to eat for a while, but I tell you what I would like: a good big glass of your elderberry wine, the oldest stuff.''That you'll have in two shakes of a lamb's tail.'He watched her hurry from the room to the scullery and again his gaze wandered about him. How was it he felt so at home here? How was it he had ever come here in the first place? Just because he was as wet as a duck that hadn't oiled its wings, she had said. He smiled to himself. She came out with some funny things. The old man would have liked her. Oh, yes, he would have liked little Bertha. They would have got on like a house on fire. Funny, but he couldn't get him out of his mind for very long. And then there was his father ... A murderer.That part hadn't reached the papers. No, it was too complicated, and the fact that the younger brother had kept silent about it all

687these years would have made greater headlines still: and would they have believed that he was unaware of his brother's guilt until after the innocent man had been hanged? No; as Douglas had said to him, nobody would have believed it. What was more, he would have been termed an accessory after the fact.As for the episode that had ended it all, all he could recall vividly was the hate that had swept through him as he tore Henrietta from her father's grasp, and from her grasp on him. In the split second before the bullet had struck him, had his father pulled him forward to protect himself? He would never know for sure, but the suspicion would always remain in his mind. And had the hate of him died? No.

No, it hadn't; it was still there. He could only hope that time would dim it. And that's what he wanted, in all ways . . . time. Time to know what he was going to do with his life. Would he go up to Cambridge?

No; he didn't think so. Then what would he do? Well, he didn't know, did he? That's why he was here, for if there was any place he would find himself, it would be in the company of Bertha Hanratty.Jfl 688It was after he had eaten, some two hours or more later, and they were sitting before the fire, that she brought the subject up by saying to him, 'What d'you intend to do with your life, lad?' and he had answered, To tell you the truth, Bertha, I don't know/'Will you go to the university?''No; I've already made up my mind about that.'She was looking into the fire now as she said, 'Well, whatever you intend to do, don't waste it, lad. You've only got one life. But, you know, you never realize this until you are halfway through it, that's if you get the chance to reach that stage. Often life is taken from people before they realize that they value it. I used to be always sorry when I heard of life being snatched from the young. But then again, it might have been better that way for them, for it may have saved them suppin'

sorrow. You know, Joseph, I'm a very healthy woman. I've never known a day's illness in me life and yet I've known such unhappiness that at times I would have swapped it for the peace which some chronic invalids seem to have inside themselves. D'you know what I mean?'

689He didn't answer her, not even with a nod, and she went on, 'You've heard me talk about me son in Australia an' that I hear from him every Christmas and that I hope he'll just pop in the door one day.

Well, that's all bunkum, lad, all bunkum. Our Jimmy, who's now, I should say, forty-three, come the twentieth of next month, never gave a thought to anybody in his life. I've never heard from him in fifteen years. No Christmas card.' She slanted her gaze towards him now. 'I heard from him when he married and the wife wrote to me when each of the children were born, just a short note. Now I don't know whether any of them are alive or dead. I wrote to them at the last address they gave me but I got no reply. And our Lena, she's forty, has two children. I told you she lived in Jersey. She sends me a Christmas card and I send the bairns something every Christmas. From what I understand she's married decently off, quite warm in fact. But none of the warmth ever came this end. Why didn't they take after my Willie? Very odd, you know, about families, Joseph, very odd. And so, now you know why I nearly ate you up the day you landed on

690the doorstep in the rain. I was lonely. I look back an' I know I've been lonely every day since Willie died. But from the minute you stepped into the kitchen, as I told you, me life seemed to change. Lad, if you walked out the morrow and I never saw you again, the memory of these last few weeks, waitin' for you comin' in at night, seein' you out in the mornin', the memory of that'll last me.' 'Oh, Bertha.' He leant forward and caught her hand, and she lifted it up and pressed it against her cheek, and at the contact he asked himself, how many kinds of love were there? because here he was telling himself that he loved this little woman in a way that he had never loved his mother, because he had never been able to talk to his mother, at least his mother had never been able to talk to him, as Bertha had. Looking back, he thought that his mother had buried herself in the quicklime that had covered his stepfather. She had only been half-alive all those years, living only because she had to bring him up. It had been a sad life and the sadness had impregnated him. Yet, with Bertha here, it was different. For him, there was a glowing warmth emanating from this little

691woman, and, although he couldn't tell her, he knew that for the rest of his life he would feel that wherever she was, he must be near her, at least within visiting distance, and that often. 'What about another glass of your lifesaver?' he said.And this brought her to her feet with a laugh, saying, 'At your service, sir! At your service. And you know somethin'?* She poked her head forward. 'If you hadn't been to a funeral the day I'd put the phonograph on.''Why not?' he said. 'Why not?''Do you think the old man would have enjoyed it?''Yes, he would, I'm sure he would, and this kitchen . . . and you.''Well, that bein' so I'll go and get it. It's in a cupboard in the front room.'He lay back in the chair, his head moving from side to side: he had just buried Ms grandfather and now they were going to have the phonograph on. He must be back in the dream, he must. Life was crazy, but sort of happy at this moment.

11They were sitting side by side in the drawing-room. Victoria was lying back on the couch with her feet on a high foot-stool; Bridget was holding her hand and saying, 'Do you think she understands all that has happened? I mean, the relationships, that Joseph is her half-brother, and Douglas her uncle, and Amy her cousin?''Oh yes, she understands, although-' Victoria paused here, then said, 'she may not have understood how it all came about because I have not told her about her father's connection with Joseph.'

She again paused and made a movement with her head as if dismissing something before ending, 'And Lily's part in all this.' Then turning to look fully at Bridget, she asked quietly, 'When are we leaving?*

693'Any time, my dear. Everything is ready for you down at the house. It could be this afternoon.'Victoria now raised her head from the couch and looked round the room, saying as she did so, 'Once I step out of this house I'll never enter it again, but not a day will pass of those I've got left but I'll be walking its corridors, its rooms, wishing for something to happen, something drastic, something terrible that would wipe him out of my life and leave Henrietta safe. You know, Bridget, if I could have got my hand on a gun, I would have shot him years ago. I've wondered since if it was because he sensed this as much as his need for money that he sold the contents of the gun room, only keeping one or two in his own room . . . and under lock and key. You know, at the height of my hate I would turn to the Bible for help, and every character I read of there had some redeeming feature. But I could find none in him, at least I don't think so, except that perhaps he might have had a love for his mistress, judging by the letters and a photograph I found in his drawer. She looked to be an elderly woman, too, which was surprising.

Well, all I cani

694hope is that she perhaps found some redeeming feature in him, because I never did.'Bridget patted Victoria's hand, saying, 'You will forget, and it will be like old times when we were young , . ,'What a stupid thing to say. Nothing would be like old times, and what had happened in the past twenty years would obliterate even the thoughts of those far-gone days. Victoria had said that every day she had left she would recall the time spent in this house. And that was likely, because, if she were to believe the young doctor, her condition was such that her days might spread into a few months, and perhaps with special care and attention, a little longer.When Amy appeared quite suddenly, dressed for outdoors, Bridget looked at her in some surprise, saying, 'Are you going for a walk in the garden, dear?''No, Mammy; I'm going for a walk outside. I'm going to see Joseph.**Oh, my dear.' Bridget drew herself to the edge of the couch now, saying, 'Well, we are all going along to see him shortly; your father wants to have a talk with him. I told

695you last night that your father's got some suggestion . . .*'I know, Mammy; but there's no reason why I can't visit Joseph on my own, is there?''No; but it's a very long walk, and it's a lonely road.'I'm used to walking, Mammy; and I'll have to get used to walking lonely roads before I'm finished, don't you think?'Bridget looked at this daughter of hers who took after herself in so many ways, mostly in her mind, and she didn't think she liked it. She loved her dearly, so very, very dearly, but she wished that she wasn't such a replica of herself and had more of her father's traits. But she had come to realize of late that when one faced oneself, one found some displeasing facets, and one of them was a strong will, which became wilfulness when displayed at Amy's age. She said now, 'Does Daddy know where you're going?''Yes; I told him. He's up in the schoolroom with Henrietta.' Then turning, she looked down at her new aunt, as she thought of her, and she said with a smile, 'She said my name quite plainly.'

696'Oh, I'm so glad.' Victoria answered her smile, and when Amy said, 'There's a very good school for deaf children in Newcastle, perhaps she could attend there,' Victoria drew herself from the back of the couch, saying, 'Oh, that would be excellent. Oh yes,' and turned to look at Bridget, who said, 'Yes, indeed it would. We'll see into it.' And now she smiled broadly at her daughter, saying, as though assenting to her wishes, 'Be careful how you go. We'll be along very shortly, because we all may be going home this afternoon.''Oh; this afternoon?''Yes, dear, this afternoon.'The smile had slid from Amy's face, and she turned quickly and went out without further words. Within minutes she was hurrying along what her mother had termed the lonely road, jumping the ice-capped puddles here and there and even sliding on one of them. And then she was knocking on the door of the cottage.She had to wait some seconds before it was opened and by Joseph, and his greeting was one that showed a little surprise.

'You're

697early,' he said; then looking to the side, he asked, 'Are you on your own?''Yes. Yes, sir, I'm on my own. May I come in?'He stood aside, and when she entered the room she did as he had done on his first sight of the kitchen; she stood and stared about her. Then her eyes focussed on the end of the room, and the fire and the chair to the side of it, and the books lying on the mat at its foot.'Give me your coat.'As he helped her off with her coat, she said, 'How's your arm feeling?''Fine, all right, but I'll be glad when it's out of this sling. Come up by the fire; Bertha's out in the garden feeding her feathered friends.''Bertha?

You call her Bertha?''Yes. Yes, I call her Bertha ... Sit down.'As she went to sit in the basket chair a voice from somewhere behind her shouted, 'Nuff to cut the nose off you out there! I'll soon have to put drawers on Lizzie else her backside will be frozen; they've got her pecked to bits. I think I'll bring her in 698later . . .' Bertha's voice trailed away; then as she entered the room she exclaimed on a high note,

'Well! Well! And where did you spring from? Did you come down the chimney? I didn't hear a carriage.''Amy, this is Mrs Hanratty. Bertha, this is Amy, and apparently, yes, she did come down the chimney.''Sit down, lass, sit down. Eeh! look at the sight of me!' She now rubbed her hands down the old black coat she was wearing. 'I must look like a witch to you.''She is a witch.' He was smiling at Amy now. 'She makes things happen, turns people inside out. And that's not the half of it.'Amy sat down and stared from the little dumpling of a woman to this tall young man, this young man whom she loved, and in such a way that it was a constant pain. But she saw immediately that he wasn't the same person who had lived in the Lodge, nor yet the one she had seen during the past few days in the house down the road. He looked different; his long body wasn't stiff any more, and his manner was entirely changed; it was , . , She couldn't find the words readily to explain it, for he appeared not only relaxed, 699but free . . . free and easy. Yes, that was the term. His manner towards this little woman and hers towards him were as if they had known each other for years. And, too, there seemed something more than that between them. And yet, from what he had said, he had lived in this place only a matter of weeks while attending his grandfather at the house. Yes, and wasn't it strange that he had to help nurse his grandfather? That surely couldn't have made the change in him, could it? But perhaps the change was all for the better; there would be no more barriers to get through.The little woman had taken her coat off now and had pulled what looked like a man's cap from her head and she was saying, Til just spruce meself up a bit, then I'll make you a drink. But in the meantime get yourself into the front room. Now wasn't it funny-' She was looking at Joseph now. 'Don't you think it's funny that I should light that fire in there this mornin'? I said to you, didn't I, I was lighting it because I felt the room might get a bit damp?

But that place is as dry as a bone.' She now turned a beaming face on Amy, ending, 'I must have 700known you were coming, lass. Well, go on, the pair of you, and leave me to get on in me kitchen and get Charlie singing.'Somewhat bewildered, Amy allowed herself to be led down the kitchen and into the front room, and here she stopped again as she took in the horsehair suite, the wallpaper with cabbage roses shouting out from it, the dresser holding bits of china, and on a table to the side of the small window a large horn phonograph. -He laughed at her bewilderment, saying, 'You'll get used to it; it isn't the furniture that matters here. Come, sit down on that nice soft seat.' He bent over and thumbed the hard horsehair sofa.When seated she looked up at him, and said, 'You like it here?''Yes. Yes, I like it here.''You're changed.''How d'you mean, changed?''Your manner, everything about you.*'Oh that. Yes.