Then She Fled Me (6 page)

Miss Dearlove was tired and cold by
the time they reached Mrs. Donovan
’
s cottage. She felt, rather crossly, that she could not possibly care how Mrs. Donovan
’
s grandfather was carried off by the Sidhe, but the old woman smoking a clay pipe welcomed them with the flattering
extravagance of her race, and Aunt Em was already there, sipping strong black tea by the turf fire. Sarah spread her mackintosh over the donkey
’
s back, and Miss Dearlove smiled and stepped graciously inside.

This was the real thing, she thought, gathering together her flagging spirits; the tiny two-roomed cottage—cabins, weren
’
t they called?—with a cow looking over the partition, the clay pipe, and the spinning wheel in the
corner
. They spent, over an hour with Mrs. Donovan, drinking tea and listening to her stories. Miss Dearlove made copious notes, but it was very dark, and she doubted if she would be able to read them later. Still, it
was all being stored up in her mind for her next wee tale for little people. She thought she would make Mrs. Donovan a witch, and Kathy and possibly Danny would be the lost children—not too like Hansel and Gretel, of course—and a leprechaun, mischievous and cute, living in the teapot on the mantelshelf.

Miss Dearlove noticed a sudden coldness in the old woman
’
s manner as they made their farewells, and wondered if she could have offended in any way. Aunt Em, already in the cart, was being showered with blessings for her gifts of tea and tobacco, and, slightly at a loss, Miss Dearlove followed her, graciously bowing her thanks for hospitality. They set off through the rain which was turning to fine mist, and Miss Dearlove said:

“
A
delightful
experience. That is
just
the sort of copy I have been looking for. Do you think, dear Miss Emma, the old lady objected to a stranger? I thought she seemed somewhat malevolent when we went.
”

“
That
’
s because you didn
’
t give her any money,
”
said Sarah.

“
Oh!
”
Miss Dearlove felt annoyed, both with herself for appearing mean, and with Mrs. Donovan for expecting payment.

“
I suppose they
’
re all alike,
”
she remarked rather acidly.
“
Commercialized like the rest of the world. No doubt they make up their stories especially for the tourist.
”

Sarah pushed the wet fringe out of her eyes, and looked up at her with a grin.

“
And if she did, Wasn
’
t it worth it as entertainment?
”
she said softly.
“
Get along with you, Cosgrave, we
’
ll never be home.
”

Miss Dearlove was offended. For the second time that day she thought of the Miss Kellys and reflected that it was perhaps a pity she had not heard of them before the Riordans.

It was nearly dark when they got home, and mist from the lough surrounded the house. For the first time since she had come to Ireland Miss Dearlove thought a little wistfully of the flat in Streatham and Miss Pringle returning from the library with a bundle of new magazines under her arm. Nolan, for once, was on hand to stable the donkey, and as they went into the house Danny remarked with surprise:
“
There
’
s a light in the nursery.
”

They were hardly inside the front door when Nonie came hurrying through the hall.

“
A fine thing!
”
she scolded.
“
And is it today of all days you
’
d choose to be gallivanting away from home, Miss Sarah?
”

“
What
’
s the matter, Nonie? You knew we were going.
”

“
Did you have no telygram?
”

“
No, of course not.
”

“
Och! That Willie
’
s guv it to someone who
’
s forgot it for sure. Himselfs arrived.
”

Sarah stared.

“
Not—not
—”
she faltered.

“
Amn
’
t I telling you? And his room not ready, and he wanting to go straight to his bed as soon as he
’
d seen the proprietress. What
’
s that, I asks him, and he says, impatient like, the owner of the house, Miss Riordan, and I tells him both Miss Riordans is out with the ass and the cyart, and he says will I trouble you to come up to his room as soon as you
’
re within, Miss Sarah.
”

“
Oh—oh, dear!
”
For once Sarah sounded at a loss,
“
Perhaps he wants to leave immediately.
”

“
He
’
s not lavin
’
yet. He
’
s unpacked, and Nolan
’
s carried his gramyphone up, but he fetched his records himself. Said they might get broke.
”

“
A gramophone!
”
said Kathy softly.
“
He must be fond of music. What
’
s he like, Nonie? Is he very old? Does he look ill?
”

Nonie surveyed them all, and some of her agitatio
n
seemed to evaporate. A twinkle came into her eyes.

“
Old, is it?
”
she mocked.
“
He
’
s not old at all.
”

“
Not old?
”
said Sarah blankly.

“
Well, he
’
s no young sprig with his mammy
’
s milk still wet on his lips, if that
’
s what you mean,
”
Nonie retorted.
“
A little older than Mr. Joe—thirty, perhaps.
”

“
Is he—is he—quite normal?
”
Aunt Em asked, and No
ni
e laughed.

“
He
’
s right in his head, and as cross as two sticks an
’
he waiting nearly an hour at the station for the cyar and obliged to hire Cribbens
’
new taxi to carry him home, an
’
he going by the north road and asking double fare. You
’
d best go up and see him, Miss Sarah, and explain about the tely
g
ram.
”

“
Why not let Kathy go?
”
suggested Miss Dearlove, her eyes popping with pleasurable anticipation, but Nonie replied:

“
He said the proprietress and that
’
s who he
’
ll get. It was Miss Sarah
’
s notion to take in strangers here and she
’
s the one to pacify them. Off you go, me doty, and ask him when he wants his supper.
”

“
Not like that, Sarah,
”
protested Aunt Em.
“
At least change out of your wet trousers.
”

“
My wet trousers are good enough for him,
”
pronounced Sarah, scowling.
“
Besides, I
’
ve got my farm rounds to do yet.
”

She slowly began to climb the stairs, squeezing the damp out of her hair as she went. She knocked on the door of the nursery, thinking it must be the first time in her life she had ever done such a thing. A clipped, English voice answered immediately, and she pushed open the door.

He was sitting by the fire, reading, a lamp at his elbow, and in the brief moment before he looked up she had the impression of a cold, clear-cut profile, quite different from Joe
’
s irregular rugged
n
ess. He looked at home and completely unruffled, in fact, Sarah thought resentfully, he looked as though he never lost his temper at all.

“
Hello,
”
he said quite pleasantly, putting down his book.
“
Who are you?
”

“
I
’
m Sarah Riordan,
”
she said, and he frowned, giving the polite impression that he disliked being disturbed.
“
Did you want anything?
”

She closed the door behind he
r.

“
It was
you
who wanted to see me,
”
she pointed
out. It did not occur to her that he might not know who she was. He was looking at her with the unfocused attention he might have given to a child, and indeed, he took her to be one of the younger members of the family. There appeared to be several Riordans.

“
Did I? It was the proprietress I wanted to see—your aunt, perhaps? Is she in, yet?
”

“
We
’
re all in,
”
said Sarah severely.
“
And I
’
m the proprietress.
”

‘
My dear young lady! Is this a joke with an I
ri
sh flavor?
”

Sarah might have been feeling nervous a moment ago, but this sensation soon passed into one of indignation. How dared he laugh at her!

“
I am Sarah Riordan,
”
she repeated on a higher note.
“
You replied to my letters and I replied to yours. Dun Rury is my house and I think at least you might get up when you speak to me.
”

He rose slowly to his feet, but his face showed no signs of discomfiture.

“
I beg your pardon,
”
he apologized gravely.
“
How do you do, Miss Riordan. Didn
’
t you get my telegram?
”

“
I wanted to explain about the telegram,
”
she said quickly.
“
You see, our postal system is a bit erratic here—we
’
re so isolated. Willie-the-Post gives the mail to anyone who
’
s coming this way to save himself the extra five miles, and it
’
s the same with telegrams, unless Casey rows across the lough himself, which he wouldn
’
t do unless he thought it important, like a death or something. So Willie takes them
.
He must have given yours to someone. I expect it will turn up tomorrow.
”

“
I see,
”
he said.
“
Rather a haphazard method of communication, don
’
t you think?
”

“
It suits us,
”
Sarah replied, then added rather hastily:
“
But I
’
m sorry you had that wait at the station. I would have met you myself with the car, of course, and taxis always will come the north road because it
’
s the longest way round
.
I hope Cribben didn
’
t sting you too badly.
”

“
Your tone rather implies that you hope that he did,
”
he remarked mildly.
“
Now, let
’
s get this straight. You say, you are the proprietress but I really can
’
t talk business with you.
”

“
Why not?
”

“
I
’
m not used to dealing with children.
”

“
I
’
m no child,
”
said Sarah angrily.
“
I
’
m eighteen.
”