Roses of Winter (34 page)

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Authors: Murdo Morrison

BOOK: Roses of Winter
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“The question is, dae ye love him?” Pearl asked.

Ellen’s eyes grew moist. “Aye, ah do.”

“Well, doesn’t that decide the matter?” Pearl insisted.

“It’s no’ that...” Ellen stopped. Pearl looked at her expectantly. “It’s just… it’s just…, ah just don’t like the feeling that that’s whit everybody expects me tae dae.”

Pearl was exasperated. “Ye just told me that ye loved Jim so whit’s yer problem?”

Ellen shook her head. “Ye know, mah Ma surprised me.” She told Pearl about her what her mother had said.

“Aye, well ah’m glad ye’re finally beginning tae realize how lucky ye are.
 
After the night ah’m no’ likely to have a family.” She explained to Ellen that she had finally decided to tell her family about Jimmie. “The minute mah faither hears about it ah’ll be oot on mah ear.”

“Surely he widnae really dae that?” Ellen was shocked. She could never imagine her own father doing anything of the kind. As bad as he might be, she couldn’t imagine Pearl’s father putting her out on the street.

“Aye ye’ll maybe change yer mind when ah show up on your doorstep the night,” Pearl said. “Actually ah wis gaun tae ask ye if ah could stay wi’ you for a few days if it comes tae it. Even if he doesn’t pit me oot ah might want tae get away from him for a while.”

Ellen was angry now. “If that man lays a hand on ye, he’ll have me tae answer to.”

Pearl rolled her eyes. “Wid ye be serious. Ye’ve nae idea whit he can be like, especially when he’s had a few. Naw, the best thing is tae get the hell away from him when he’s in one o’ his moods.”

Ellen could see the sense in this. “Pearl, if ye need a place to stay mah Ma will put ye up.”

“Are ye sure?” Pearl asked.

“Ah’ll ask her,” Ellen said, “but ah have nae doubt that she’ll insist on it.”

 

❅❅❅❅❅

 

That evening it was all Pearl could do to prevent Jimmie from going up with her to see her family. “Jimmie, we agreed that I would see them masel’,” Pearl insisted. “You being there wid jist make matters worse.”

Pearl went up the stairs and let herself in the door. In the kitchen she found her mother sitting by the fire. The gas mantle was lit but turned down so low it barely emitted a gleam of light. She was peering at a knitting pattern in the dim light.

“Ma, why don’t you turn up the mantle so you can see. You’ll ruin your eyes.”

Her mother looked up from the pattern. Peggy Lafferty was a short, stout woman who looked older than her years. Her hair had begun to turn gray in her thirties and now, two decades later, her face was lined and bore the look of one who had endured great hardship in her life, as indeed she had.
 

“Pearl, ye gave me such a fright. Ah didnae hear ye come in.”

Pearl came and sat in the chair opposite her. “Aye well, ah wisnae in a rush tae come in, tae tell ye the truth.”

Her mother, worried by her daughter’s words and manner, put down her knitting and looked intently at Pearl. “Whit’s the matter wi you? Has something happened?”

Pearl nodded. “Aye, something’s happened. Something that should make you happy but ah fear will just cause a lot of trouble. At least it will when mah faither hears aboot it.”

“Ye’ve no’ gaun an’ done something stupid have ye?” her mother asked.

Pearl was exasperated. “Ah’m no’ expecting if that’s whit ye mean. Whit the hell dae ye take me for?”

“Ah’m glad tae hear that,” Peggy said. “And you watch your language. It’s a good thing yer faither’s no’ here.” Peggy thought a moment. “Whit dae ye mean it’s something that should make us happy?”

“Ah wis planning tae tell ye both thegither but maybe it’s best that ah let you know first, Ma. Ah’ve met a boy ah really like. We want tae get married.”

Her mother’s look of surprise was replaced with a sudden look of understanding. “But he’s no’ Catholic, is he?”

Pearl said nothing. For Peggy the news was devastating. She had born the brunt of her husband’s temper and ill treatment for so long that to survive she had evolved a strategy of avoidance that had found little success against his excesses.
 
Patrick Lafferty was a man who viewed acquiescence as license to go to further extremes.
This news from Pearl
, Peggy thought,
was the last straw
. It would push her husband beyond the point where any pretence of family life could be maintained.

Peggy Lafferty began to weep. Tears streamed down her face to drip from her chin on to the knitting on her lap. Pearl came over and put her arm around her mother’s shoulder.

“Ah’m sorry, Ma.”

Her mother stirred. “Why should you be sorry? It’s him that should be sorry for putting his family through hell.” Peggy wiped her eyes with her apron. “Ah jist don’t think ah can bear it any more.” The sound of a key in the door made them both start.

“God, it’s him,” Peggy exclaimed. Pearl hurried over to sit by the table.
 

Patrick Lafferty walked into the kitchen. The scowl on his face changed to a look of deep suspicion. It was as though he could smell the scent of their tension hanging in the air. “Whit’s the matter wi’ you two?” he demanded.

They looked at him in the manner of defenseless animals facing a dangerous predator. Pearl broke the silence.

“There’s something ah need tae tell you,” she said. She had decided to get directly to the point. The certain storm would be no easier to endure if delayed. “Ah’ve met a nice boy and we want tae get married.”

“Jist like that,” her father sneered. “Ye must have known him for a while. Why have we no’ met him?” He stopped. “Oh, ah get it. There’s something aboot him ye didn’t want me tae find oot. That’s the game, isn’t it?”
 

Pearl looked her father straight in the eye. “Aye ye’re right. But before ah tell ye whit ah think ye know already, there’s something ah want you tae understand. Ah love him and it makes nae difference tae me whit you think about it.”

Patrick’s face flushed a deep red. He started to raise his hand.

“An’ hitting me is no’ gaun tae change mah mind either,” Pearl said quickly.

Her father dropped his arm and went to sit down at the fire. Thwarted by Pearl’s attitude he turned on his wife. “An’ you, ye damned bitch. How long have you been hiding this behind ma back?”

Peggy said nothing. Pearl turned on him. “And ah’m tired o’ you talking tae mah mother like that.”

He rose to his feet, his face contorting in anger. While he struggled to get the words out, Pearl cut him off. “Ah telt her just a few minutes before ye came in the door. So leave her oot o’ this.”

From somewhere deep in Pearl there welled up a deep resentment of her father. The anger swirled around in her head and left no room for any sense of caution. Patrick, used to submission from his wife, felt the challenge to his authority as keenly as a blow to the face.

“Jimmie is a Protestant and ah’m going tae marry him,” Pearl said looking her father square in the eye.

“If ye dae then ye can forget aboot setting foot in this hoose ever again,” Patrick said so emphatically that Pearl felt flecks of his spit on her forehead. She wiped them off in disgust.

“If that’s the way ye want it,” she screamed at him and turned to leave.

He grabbed her shoulder and spun her around. “Ah’m no’ done talking tae you.”
 

“What’s the point?” Pearl snapped at him. “There’s nae talking tae you aboot this. Ye’re aye gaun on aboot Protestants but ye’re no’ exactly a shining example yersel’, are ye.”

Perhaps it was the truth in Pearl’s statement that provoked Patrick. He swung his arm and struck her full in the face. Pearl crumpled but didn’t fall. She stared at her father, too dazed and confused to move. Before Patrick could do anything further, Peggy was on him. She slapped him on the head and shoulders.

“You bastard you,” she screamed. “You goddamn shite.” Patrick grabbed her by the wrists. Pearl was afraid for her mother then. She moved to intervene but was surprised to see Patrick gently restrain Peggy and hold her to him.

Peggy was struggling to break free, screaming and ranting incoherently. Pearl saw a look of fear flicker across her father’s face. His fight with Pearl forgotten now, he was trying to calm his hysterical wife. Pearl came to her mother and put her arm around her. Recognizing his complete defeat, Patrick let Peggy go to her daughter.

Once away from her husband Peggy’s hysteria faded to sobbing and then to silence. Her chest heaved. She allowed Pearl to take her to her chair where she sat frozen, almost catatonic.

Patrick Lafferty sat in his chair, his head in his hands. Pearl stared at her father, wondering what his withdrawn state might mean. Peggy’s attack, the resistance of one who had reached her limit and had nothing left to lose, had surprised Pearl, but shocked her father into apparent insensibility. The room fell silent save for the sound of the fire. Only a small pocket of gas flaring from a lump of coal broke the stillness.
 

Pearl waited, seemingly the only conscious person in the room. She had expected a fracas, even violence, but not this. The silence increased her anxiety. Her father sat so still that she began to doubt whether he was alive. This grew to the dimensions of an obsession. She felt waves of panic flow through her chest. Despite the hurts and insults she had received from him throughout her life, she had maintained a vestige of affection for him as her father. She rose and went over to him. Pearl looked for signs of life.
 

Patrick lay slumped against the wing of his armchair. His chest showed no signs of movement. Pearl laid her hand on his arm. Her father stirred and turned to look directly at her. She jumped. Pearl’s fear for her father was replaced with fear of him. Patrick’s look of surprise changed to a scowl.

“Whit are ye daeing?” he demanded.

“Are you all right, Da?” Pearl asked.

“Whit the hell difference does it make tae you whether ah’m all right?” he demanded.

She sighed and shrank from him.

“Why wid ye think ah wid be all right wi’ the upset ye’ve caused in this hoose?”

Pearl rose to his bait. “Whit ah’ve caused? You have a damned cheek tae say that tae me. You’re the cause of all the trouble in this house. You treat my poor mother like dirt. She dances attendance on ye and ye’re still no’ happy.”

Patrick Lafferty spluttered with a rage so fierce it made speech impossible.

“An’ another thing,” Pearl said. “You’re going on aboot me marrying a Protestant and the damn thing about it is ye’re no’ half the man he is.”

He came at her but she stood her ground.

“Aye, that’s all ye’re good for, hitting a wumman. But ye cannae beat me. You can hit me but ah’ll no’ give in tae ye.”

He stopped and lowered his hand. “Then ye can get yer arse oot o’ here. Ah’ll no’ have another thing tae dae wi’ you.”

Pearl turned to her mother who had her face in her apron. “And if ah hear that ye ever lay as much as wan finger on ma mother again ah’ll go tae the polis masel’. An’ ah’ll make sure yer name is dirt everywhere they know ye.”
 

Pearl turned and ran, Patrick right behind her. She made it out to the landing before he grabbed her arm. Her father was lifting his fist to hit her when the other door on the landing opened to reveal their neighbor, Mrs. McGurk. She carried a mop and a pail of water. Rose McGurk was a sturdy woman in mind and body. She despised Patrick.

“Whit’s gaun on here?” she demanded.

“You just mind yer ain business ye nosy auld bitch ye,” Patrick spat at her.

Rose McGurk put down the bucket. She took up the mop and hit Patrick full in the face with its dirty strands. Patrick grabbed at the mop and began to pull on it. She surprised him with the strength of her resistance. He struggled to reach her while she kept him at mop’s length.
 

“You just wait till ah get ma hands on you, ye dirty bitch.”

The sound of the struggle had brought out Mrs. McGurk’s husband, Tam in time to hear Patrick’s threat to his wife. He grabbed the mop from his wife’s hands and threw it down the stairs. Without any hesitation he fell on Patrick and delivered two blows to his face that knocked him down to a hard landing on his door sill.

Blood streamed from Patrick’s nose. He remained where he was, too dazed to do anything more than slump against the edge of his door.

Tam McGurk stood over him. “So mah wife’s a dirty bitch is she?” he shouted. “It’s you that’s a dirty bastard.” He bent over as if to clout Patrick on the ear.

Pearl held on to his arm. “Mr. McGurk,” she cried. Tears streamed down her cheeks.

Tam stopped and looked at her. His manner softened. “Ah’m sorry, lassie, but ah jist couldnae take that from him.” He looked down at Patrick. “Whit wis aw this commotion about?”

Pearl told the McGurks what had prompted Patrick’s outburst. Mrs. McGurk put her arm around Pearl. “He’s a terrible man that. Ah know he’s yer faither, but tae chase his ain lassie an’ try tae hurt her like that.” She shook her head sadly.

“If ah were you ah wid get oot o’ here till this blows over,” Tam McGurk told her.

Pearl hesitated and looked at her father.

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