THE CINDER PATH (13 page)

toss of her head Polly turned and walked away,

and as she disappeared through the doorway into the kitchen Nellie turned and ran into the yard again, and it was just as she reached the door of the dairy that Charlie came

out.

"Ah-ha! Master MacFell, what have you been

up to? Come on, come on, I want to know."

She had him by the arm now leading him across the yard, not in the direction of the house but towards the barn, and as they skipped and staggered on the ice she talked at

him, saying, "Romeo, Casanova, and Benny

Blackett the drover, you're all of them

rolled into one. Do you know that, Charlie MacFell?

Heart breaker, that's what you are."

She had pushed open the door of the big barn and their

joined laughter was smothered by the padding of the bales of hay.

"You're a naughty girl, do you know that?"

"Yes, I know that, Charlie. And you're a daft

lad, do you know that?"

He paused before saying solemnly, "Yes, I

know that, Nellie."

"Well, naughty and daft, let's join forces and

enjoy ourselves, eh? Come on ... here, light the

lantern, I've got something to show

you. "But wait

. . wait"-he pulled at her arm-"we'd

better get back, they'll be missgreater-

than 5

ing us.

"You didn't think that when you took Polly into the dairy, did you?"

"Oh now, now Nellie, wait."

She was laughing loudly at him as she said, "I'm

not waiting. Here! hold it." She thrust the lantern into his hand. "And keep yourself steady else you'll set the place on fire. You're tipsy,

you know that?"

"What about you?"

"I'm only half tipsy yet, but the night's

young. Come on."

"Where you going?"

"Up on to the floor," she said, making for the ladder.

"Now, now, Nellie."

"Now, now, Charlie," She turned her head

over her shoulder and scoffed at him, "Come on, be a brave boy, follow little Nellie."

He followed her, but slowly, having to feel his

way up the ladder. She was a caution was Nellie,

lovable in a way. You couldn't help

liking Nellie, but she was a terror for all that.

By! Yes. To them back there in the house she had

brought some blushes in her time with her tongue. She

had a sharp wit, had Nellie, like a rapier, and

he had no doubt that she was also cruel at times, but

she had never used the sharp edge of her tongue on

him. No, funny that, she'd always been kind and

sympathetic towards him. He liked Nellie.

Oh aye, he liked Nellie. And he loved

Polly, and he admired Victoria. . . . Was

that all the feeling he had for Victoria?

Victoria was beautiful; in a heavy sort of

way, but she was beautiful. They wanted him to marry

Victoria and he'd be a fool if he didn't

because it was someone like Victoria who was needed to cope with his mother, he himself was no match for her. There were times when she irritated him so much he felt like striking

her. And that was strange because he couldn't even watch a beast being goaded without feeling the nail piercing himself.

Yet how Dear he had come to hitting her. Oh

yes, he'd had the desire more than once to lift his

hand and skelp his mother across the mouth. Nature was a funny thing.

"Look where you're goin", you'll fall over the edge, you fool!"

Nellie grabbed him and pulled him down on to the

hay. She had hung the lantern on a nail in the

stay post that reached from beneath the floor in the middle of the barn right up to the apex of the roof. They said that piece of wood had been carved out of a single tree three

hundred years ago and she didn't disbelieve them.

It was still unmarred by beetle rot, strong, sturdy,

oozing strength.

She wished she could draw some of the strength from it and inject it into this lovable soft, long individual by her side. She turned from him and began

to grope among the straw close under the roof, and when she found what she was looking for she brought it out with a flourish and dangled it before his face, crying, "One of the best, eighteen ninety. He never dipped that far

down tonight, but nevertheless he'll have fits when he

sobers up tomorrow an' finds out just how far he did

dip down among his precious bottles. . . .

An' you know why he did it Charlie? You know why

he's made such a splash?"

As she dangled the bottle before his face dull

purple and green lights swam before his eyes, and as

she widened the arc the lantern light added shots of

gold reflected from the straw.

Grabbing at the bottle now, he peered closely

at it as he said thickly, "That's brandy. Oh,

Nellie, you shouldn't."

"Well, oh Charlie, I did. And it's not the

first time neither."

"You don't mean . . . you don't mean you drink

the lot?"

"No, no, not the lot, I share it with old

Benny. I... I get it for him. He loves a

drop of good stuff does Benny, and when would he ever

be able to afford stuff like that? And I'm telling you this, dear papa wouldn't afford it either if he

didn't get it on the cheap. It's all customs

fiddled stuff, like Mother's expensive scent . . .

and Vic's and mine. Do you know he's got a

secret place upstairs for it? Well, he has,

he has. So what chance has anybody like old

Benny to taste a drop of the real stuff?" She

slapped the bottle with her hand. "Things are badly distributed, don't you think, Charlie?"

"Yes, yes." He nodded at her. "Oh yes,

Nellie, things are badly distributed, I agree

with you. Yes, I agree with you there." His head was bouncing on his neck as if on wires. "But all the

same this is real old stuff; priceless really.

Couldn't you have taken a younger brand, sort of?"

"Yes"-she sat back on her heels-"I

suppose I could, but I heard somebody coming. It was

his nibs himself and Lord! There was only just time to get out, and as I made my escape I took the first thing

that came to hand, and it was this." She laughed now, adding,

"My hands have very good taste; what do you say,

Charlie?"

"I say you're a rip, Nellie. That's what

you are, a rip, an', an' I think you'd better

put it back an' get old Benny a younger

bottle."

"Not on your life! And anyway, there won't be

very much left for Benny when we're finished with it."

"Now, now, Nellie." As he made to rise from

the straw she pushed him back, saying, "Be

brave, Charlie, be brave. For once in your

life be brave."

"Nellie." His face became straight and his

tone took on an offended note. "That isn't

nice, Nellie; you are talking as if I'd sometime

acted as a coward. I'm not a coward, Nellie,

I'm . . . I'm simply sen . . . sensitive

to people's feelings."

"I know that, Charlie, but everybody doesn't

look at it that way. The way they see it is you're

short on guts."

f "Now Nellie."

"Stop sayin", now Nellie. Here, drink that."

She handed him a battered tin mug which he pushed

away, saying, "No, I don't think . . ."

"Well, don't think, just drink."

"Oh, Nellie." He shook his head over the

tin mug; then he put it to his lips, swallowed,

screwed his eyes up tightly, turned his face

towards his shoulder as if to bury it there, then coughed and spluttered as he said, "By! you swa . .

. swallow the d . . . date all right with this

stuff, eighteen ninety . . . eighteen ninety."

Nellie had just taken a drink from her mug and now

she, too, was coughing, and as she thumped her chest she gasped, "Oh boy! giant's blood."

"What?"

"I ... I said it's like giant's blood,

Stuff like this's not supposed to be gulped. Sip

it. Go on, sip it." She pushed the mug towards his lips, and he, laughing now, sipped at the brandy

again, while she, twisting about, pressed herself

closely to his side, then followed suit.

There must have been the equivalent of two double

brandies in each of the mugs and when she poured the third draught out for

him he made no objection. He was sitting with his

back to a bale of straw, his knees up, his wrists

dangling between them, the mug held loosely in his

hands, and she sat in much the same position, her

knees up, the mug held between her hands.

There was a quietness all around them and in them; they were suffused with a great but gentle mellowness; they had no desire to laugh any more, they were content just to sit on this hazy planet and to talk at intervals. They

touched on subjects that had no relation

to each other such as the day when Big Billy had

taken the prize for the best bull at the fair, how

well her mother played the piano, and from that to the

difference the new road had made. Their remarks on

each subject were disjointed, terse, but lucid enough

to evoke some sort of reasonable answer. And then she

said, "You know all this is for your benefit tonight, Charlie."

"What. . . what do you say, Nellie?"

"I said, over at the house, the big do, me

birthday party, they don't give a damn if I'm

seventeen or se . . . seventy, it's all been

done to bring you up to ... to scratch."

"Scratch?"

"Yes, scratch."

"What scratch?"

"Oh, don't be so damn dim, Charlie.

Vicky, Victoria the great, the she stallion,

that's the scratch, Victoria caret was

"Vic . . . Victoria?"

"Aye, yes, an' you. You were meant to pop the .

. . the question the night."

"No."

"Fact. Fact."

""Magination, Nellie."

"'Magination the bull's backside!"

At this they fell against each other hooting. When

their laughter eased away they were still sitting but now their arms were about each other, and when they hiccuped loudly together they laughed again.

"She'll swallow you alive, Charlie."

"Never get the chance."

"Oo-oh! but she will. It's like when . . . when she gets her legs over a horse, she digs her

knees in an" ... an' the poor old beast goes

where she wills; you're her latest poor old beast,

Charlie."

"Oh no! Nellie, not me."

"Yes, you, Charlie, you're next in line for

breakin' in. They've got it arranged "tween

'em, Father'n her. Not a word spoken, but I know.

Oh I know. I know the lot of

'em . . . aw!" She turned on to her hip and

laid her face in his neck and now she whispered,

"Tell you somethin", Charlie, tell you somethin'.

I'd hate to see you marry her, Charlie; you're

too nice for her. You're too nice for me an'

all, but me, I wouldn't treat you like she treats you,

Charlie. An' you're older'n me, which's as it

should be, isn't it? ... Would you marry

me, Charlie?"

He was shaking with laughter inside. It bubbled up

to his lips and spilled over as, easing her face from

his shoulders, he held it between his hands. And now he pushed out his lips and wagged his head and said, "Marry you, Nellie? Course I'll marry you. Nothin'

better to do come New Year but marry you, Nellie.

An' we'll bring our bed up here an' live in the

barn happy ever after. Oh! . . . The lantern's

gone out."

"You would, Charlie, you'd marry me?" She

groped at him.

"Any . . . day ... in the week . . .

Nellie. Any . . . day . . . day ... in the

week . . . "cept the month's got an R in

it."

"Oh Charlie!" She had her arms around his

neck. "That's a promise?"

"A promise, Nellie."

He held her tightly for a moment; then they

both overbalanced and fell into the straw. And there they lay for the next hour or more oblivious of the voices

calling in the yard; oblivious of the lanterns swinging on the ground floor of the barn; oblivious of everything until she was brought from the comfort of his arms and

her drunken sleep by a mighty hand which held her

swaying body upright as the voice thundered over her,

"What in hell's flames are you up to now! You

slut you! God! for two pins I'd thrash ..."

"Don't! Don't! Leave her alone!"

Charlie staggered to his feet but had to put his hands

behind him to support himself from falling again, and with his mind so fogged that he imagined himself to be in some sort of nightmarish dream where all the figures were swaying

he tried to sort out the faces coming and going before him.

His gaze swung from Hal Chapman to Nellie,

then from her to where Victoria was climbing on to the

platform, and beyond her to where figures were milling about in the straw below, their faces all turned upwards.

"You! you little bitch you!" Victoria made a

lunge towards her sister, but her father's arm swinging backwards thrust her aside and

she, losing her footing, fell plump on to a bale

of hay.

Charlie now had to subdue a strong desire

to laugh: it was all so funny. What were they making the fuss about; it was a party, wasn't it? But what was

he doing up here? He must have fallen asleep. Was

he still asleep?

The next minute he knew he wasn't

asleep as Nellie's voice startled him with its

loudness and the content of her words as she screamed and strained towards her sister. "It's not what you think, you mucky-minded horse-mad harlot you! Yes,