A Glimpse at Happiness (23 page)

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Authors: Jean Fullerton

Tags: #Romance, #Historical, #Fiction

BOOK: A Glimpse at Happiness
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Brian stood glaring at Ma for a second then the tension left his broad shoulders. ‘Aye, you’re right, Pat.’
 
Patrick let him go and stood alongside the other men.
 
‘See now, Nolan, that’s why your Paddy gang here and us are always at odds,’ she said, casting her gaze around. ‘You’re too bloody touchy.’
 
A smile spread across Patrick’s face. ‘There’s no gang here,’ he said, spreading his arms wide. ‘We’re just honest men enjoying the day.’ The pleasant expression disappeared. ‘So why don’t you and your pack crawl back to that hovel of yours and leave us be.’
 
Ma assumed a forlorn expression and sighed. ‘What is the world coming to?’ she asked to no one in particular, then said to Patrick, ‘would it hurt you to let an old woman see the smiles of a new bride?’
 
‘You’re
not
coming into the street,’ Patrick repeated.
 
The men of the wedding party surged forward and Ma’s gang did the same. A couple of Patrick’s men smashed the bottles in their hands and raised them while others pulled out knives.
 
‘Get out of my way,’ she snarled.
 
Patrick’s mouth took on a hard line. He folded his arms. Fury and humiliation gnawed at her. Harry had told her to bring more men to even the odds, but she thought that her reputation and the fact that there were women and children in the vicinity would be enough to make Patrick and the Irishmen stand down.
 
Her hand shot into her pocket and onto her late husband’s old knife. She fingered it affectionately, running her thumb over the catch. With one swift movement she could draw it, spring the blade and jab out Nolan’s implacable eyes, but as she clipped her nail under the catch, Charlie stepped forward.
 
He shoved Patrick aside and grabbed Josie’s wrist. ‘I’m not going anywhere until I’ve had a dance.’
 
Josie hadn’t seen Charlie’s hand reaching for her until it closed around her wrist. She struggled but he held her firm.
 
‘Let me go!’ Out of the corner of her eye she saw Patrick step closer.
 
Charlie grinned. ‘Now then, little lady, you were happy enough dancing with Nolan here; I don’t see why you can’t kick up your heels with me.’
 
As he held her inches from his face, Josie looked at him. Charlie would probably be regarded as handsome by those who found sharp features attractive but the glint of cruelty in his eyes sent a shiver of fear down her spine. She knew both brothers would slice a man’s throat without a second thought, but Charlie would glory in it.
 
He slipped his arm around her waist. ‘Come on, fiddler, strike up a tune,’ he called across as he tried to drag her into the centre of what had been the dance area. Patrick stepped in front of them.
 
‘Take your hands off her,’ he said, in a controlled tone.
 
‘What’s the harm?’ Charlie laughed.
 
The muscles in Patrick’s jaw stood out and he forced himself between them. Charlie let go abruptly and Josie stumbled forward. She grabbed hold of Patrick’s arm to steady herself and felt the taut muscles through the fabric of his shirt.
 
Charlie glared at him for a second then in a lightning move he whipped out a blade and slashed it across at Patrick’s face.
 
Josie screamed, but Patrick jerked back and caught Charlie’s arm as it completed its arc. The blade hovered frighteningly near to Patrick’s eye, then with a grunt he twisted Charlie’s arm behind and up his back.
 
Charlie gasped and Patrick jerked his arm upwards again. The knife clattered onto the cobbles.
 
Josie’s eyes darted around the street and she saw Annie and Mickey over by the fiddler. Before she could tell them to go inside they dashed across the cobbles and clung onto her skirt. She kissed Annie on the head and picked Mickey up. The boy buried his head on her shoulder. Josie stood defiantly by Patrick’s side.
 
Patrick threw Charlie at his mother and he crashed in the dirt at her feet, his shiny top hat rolling haphazardly through a puddle. Then Patrick stepped between them and picked up the glinting blade.
 
Charlie scrambled to his feet. ‘Fecking big man you are with your dirty boatmen behind you,’ he yelled, snatching up his ruined hat, ‘but you won’t be so cocky when I catch you alone.’ His eyes flickered over Josie and a brutal smile spread across his face. ‘Or your woman.’ He gave a hard laugh. ‘I bet you’re hoping this one stays at home instead of chasing anything in trousers up and down The Highway. I mean, with a wife that fecked and tooted most of the men this side of the river, a man couldn’t be sure the brats she birthed were his.’
 
Patrick didn’t move. Charlie gave him a long, mocking look. ‘If I remember rightly, I had the old lady meself.’
 
Annie buried her head in Josie’s skirts.
 
For a long moment there was utter silence, then Patrick smiled. Slowly he strolled towards Ma and stopped just in front of her. He threw Charlie’s knife in the dirt at her feet. ‘Leave the street. I won’t be telling you again.’
 
Charlie and Harry started forward but Ma raised her hand and they stopped.
 
‘I’ll not forget this, Nolan,’ she managed to force out between clenched teeth. Then, grabbing onto Harry’s arm, she turned and shuffled away.
 
Charlie dusted off his hat, jammed it on his head and blew Josie a kiss before following his mother and the other thugs.
 
Patrick watched them go then he bellowed. ‘Fiddler! The devil’s on the run—’ a roar went up ‘- so strike up a merry dance. This is my sister’s wedding after all, and I want to see her off in style.’
 
The fiddler dragged his bow across the strings and the dancing started up again. Josie lowered Mickey to the ground and the boy stuck his thumb in his mouth. Sarah came over and held out her hand.
 
‘Come with Gran and she’ll cut you a giant slice of cake,’ she said and the lad went with his grandmother across the street. With the music playing, the dancers took to the floor again.
 
Patrick hunkered down next to his daughter. ‘There, Annie, love, it’s all over.’
 
Annie turned her tearful eyes to her father and then, letting go of Josie’s skirts she ran into the house. Josie dashed after her, closely followed by Patrick.
 
 
Patrick had only just managed to keep himself from plunging the knife deep into Charlie’s chest. What he’d said about Rosa was old news and everyone close to him already knew the story - everyone that is, except Josie, Annie and Mickey and it was his children he was most concerned with just at the moment. At four, Mickey was probably too young to understand what the bastard had actually said, but his Annie was the sharp one and he knew from her stricken face that she understood only too well.
 
He was just a step behind Josie as they reached the kitchen. Annie sat on his mother’s old chair by the fire with her knees drawn up and her face hidden. Josie knelt down on the dusty floor beside her and gathered the little girl to her. A lump lodged in Patrick’s throat as his daughter threw herself into Josie’s arms and sobbed.
 
‘Aroon, aroon,’ Josie crooned.
 
He placed his hand on Annie’s soft hair and then hugged her too, sliding his arm around Josie’s shoulder as he did so.
 
He kissed Annie’s hair and smelt Josie’s lavender cologne. Annie turned her tear-stained face up to her father.
 
‘Why . . . why di . . . did he say . . . that about Mam?’ she asked, a sob catching her voice.
 
‘Because he was trying to make me fight him,’ Patrick replied, stroking a damp curl away from his daughter’s forehead.
 
Heedless of the dust from the floor on her silk skirt, Josie sat back on her heels and took hold of Annie’s hand. She bent forward and kissed it. ‘Charlie Tugman’s a bad man, Annie. That’s why he said all those hurtful things about you mother. He and his old mother and brother came here to spoil your Aunt Mattie’s wedding day and your father wouldn’t let them.’ She kissed Annie’s hands again and then held them firmly. ‘I hope you’re very proud of your pa because he is a very brave man.’
 
Annie glanced up at Patrick and gave a nod. Josie smiled at him over Annie’s head and he saw something that could have been love in her eyes, but he dared not believe it.
 
The breath wouldn’t leave his lungs as hope flared in him. What if Rosa were dead . . .
 
Josie drew her handkerchief out of her sleeve and wiped the tears from Annie’s cheeks. ‘That’s better,’ she said cheerfully.
 
Annie turned. ‘Pa, I am your girl, aren’t I?’
 
Patrick felt a pain so deep that for a moment his mind wouldn’t form an answer.
 
Josie took hold of Annie’s hands again and squeezed them. ‘Listen, Annie. I remember your pa when he was a lad, and your Aunt Mattie too, and you and your brother are the image of them when they were your age. Your pa is your real pa, and no mistake.’
 
A solemn expression settled on Annie’s face. She threw herself in her father’s arms and Patrick crushed her to him. He looked at Josie and saw tears in her eyes.
 
He put Annie from him. ‘Now, my girl,’ he said. ‘If you want to taste any of the sugar-iced cake I think you had better go and see your gran before Mickey eats it all.’
 
Annie scrambled down from the chair and, giving them a renewed smile, went back down the passageway and back to the party.
 
‘It’s hard enough that she and Mickey have had to grow up with no mother, without adding to their grief,’ she said, ‘but Charlie was speaking the truth about Rosa, wasn’t he?’
 
Patrick opened his mouth to deny it but Josie’s unwavering stare stopped him.
 
‘Mattie told me I needed to understand the full story of you and Rosa,’ she said. ‘And now I want you to tell me.’
 
A weight lifted off his shoulders. He knew that he’d never stopped loving Josie and that he mustn’t lie to her any more.
 
He sat on the table. ‘After I waved you goodbye the last time in New York, my ship sailed down America’s eastern seaboard, then onto the Cape. Four days out of Rio we were caught in a murderous storm, and although the old girl managed to stay afloat, when we limped into Montevideo she was so badly damaged that the crew was discharged. Although I was desperate to sail north and back to you, the only berth going was to Freetown in Sierra Leone, so I took it. When I got there I sent you a letter on a French ship bound for New York. Thankfully we headed north, and when I reached Le Havre I found a ship heading for New York and signed on. So almost a year late I sailed up the Hudson. As soon as I was paid off I headed for Brooklyn, only to find your house shut up. I asked around the neighbourhood and heard that the eldest daughter of Doctor Munroe got married and the whole family had moved to Boston.’
 
‘But Patrick, how could you think that I’d married someone else?’ Josie asked.
 
A sad smile spread across Patrick’s lips. ‘Truly, Josie, with you standing here with me now I must have been clean out of my head to believe such a thing, but each time I returned to New York I noticed how much more your family had prospered. You became the daughter of a wealthy doctor while I was still working my way up to ship’s mate. When I heard you’d married, although it tore my heart to shreds, I thought, why wouldn’t you choose a son of a well-to-do merchant rather than a bare-footed deck hand.’
 
Josie gave him a furious look. ‘I thought you knew me better than that, Patrick Nolan.’
 
‘I should have, I know,’ he said, raking back his hair. ‘But every time I waved you goodbye I was afraid that when I came back you would have found a man who could give you a proper home and support you in a way I wasn’t able to. So when I heard about the big wedding at your house I thought that was what had happened.’

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