A Million Tears (36 page)

We sat in silence broken only by the rattle of cups and an occasional sigh from Meg.

‘Here’s Evan now,’ I said, looking through the window as Evan’s buggy drew up. He jumped down and reached into the back. I saw him lift out an enormous bunch of flowers. At that point I left and went upstairs to my bedroom. I had a good book I wanted to finish.

I sat at the window, looking out the back. The river was a silver gleam in the distance. I could see a couple of barges making their way with the stream, probably headed for New Orleans. One of the big, luxury boats that plied between St Louis and New Orleans was steaming up the river. The passengers changed here, some going further north on the Mississippi and others heading west towards Kansas City on the Missouri. Though trains had mostly taken over from the boats there were still those who preferred to travel by boat. It was my intention to go down river on one of them one day.

26

In December we had another letter, this time from John Buchanan. Meg and Evan had seen John a number of times in New York and they had also kept up a regular correspondence. He was writing to wish us the season’s greetings and to inform us he was leaving the sea for good in the following spring. He would let us know the date of his last voyage and wondered if we could meet him in New York for a final party. He was ‘celebrating’ the end of twenty five years at sea. We were all invited.

Three days later our fourth Christmas in America was upon us. It rained all day on the twenty-fifth and for most of the next day too. In spite of the death of Meg’s mother, which did not affect Evan nor the boys except as they tried to comfort Meg, we had a good time. Boxing Day parties at the Griffiths’ place had become an established routine, and many old and some new friends came on this occasion. I was helping myself to some turkey, when I saw Dai, as I thought of him but David as I now called him, looking forlornly at the spread before us.

‘No . . . well, I suppose so.’ He looked round to make sure nobody was listening and then moved closer just in case, and lowered his voice. The room was quite full of laughing, talking groups of people and nobody was taking the slightest notice of us. ‘See, Uncle James, she’s a year and eight months older than me,’ again I had to suppress a smile at his exactness. ‘Well, because I moved up two grades like I did nobody knew how old I really was. They all thought I was older.’ He frowned. ‘I kept it a secret for so long I almost believed it myself. Anyway, she found out how old I really am and wouldn’t talk to me anymore.’

‘When was this?’

‘Last week. I’d hoped she’d come tonight so I could have a talk with her and explain that I’m no different now than I was last week. But I guess I won’t have the chance now.’

Although David had filled out and was a big boy he was, after all, only fourteen. Gunhild at nearly sixteen was more mature and had developed nicely. I guessed it was more than a difference in age that separated them but I did not say so.

‘I wouldn’t bet on it. Come on, let’s you and me find some punch and I’ll tell you about women.’ I got two glasses and he and I went to sit on the stairs. He took a mouthful of the warm, bitter brew and coughed.

‘Take it easy, David. If Mam sees you with that glass and me alongside you, she’ll have both our guts for garters. You know, it wouldn’t have mattered an iota what you’d said to Gunhild tonight. She wouldn’t have listened.’

‘How can you be so sure of that, Uncle James? We were good friends . . .’

‘That don’t matter bach, believe me. She’d caught you out in a lie and no way could you have got back to your old footing. Women may be the nicest, sweetest things imaginable and may look like butter won’t melt in their mouths but, Davey bach, underneath they’re as tough as old leather, as scheming as the devil and as pernickety as a young colt.’

He thought about this for a few moments. ‘Mmm. Gosh, when I think how often I carried her books from the schoolhouse to her buggy and showed her how to swim and even let her ride King . . . and now she won’t even talk to me.’

‘That’s women, son. Everything has to go their way or no way at all. And if it don’t – well – you got to look out. There’s a saying that hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. I reckon that’s one saying that can be expanded in meaning and cut down in words. Hell hath no fury like a woman, full stop!’

He sighed. ‘I suppose so. Are all women like that? I mean,’ he looked around though there was nobody in ear shot, ‘is Mam like that too?’

I laughed. ‘Sometimes son but there’s another saying about the exception proving the rule. Well, that’s your Mam.’

‘I see,’ said David, reflectively.

‘So don’t give Gunhild another thought, David. There’s plenty more fish in the sea and you’re too young to be thinking about any one of them. Heck when I was your age I preferred to go and do other things with my spare time, rather than chase women.’ I did not add I was down a mine fourteen hours a day and by the time I was his age I had been doing so for nearly three years.

David took another drink of his punch and pulled a face. ‘I don’t think I like this stuff,’ he handed the glass to me. ‘Do you want it, Uncle James?’

I took the glass and got to my feet. ‘Tell you the truth, David, I don’t neither.’ And with that I poured what was left of both glasses into the large potted plant that was just at the foot of the stairs. ‘I hope it doesn’t die,’ I added with a grin and David laughed.

We returned to the living room. There was some sort of dancing going on, a reel I think it was called. I stood by the wall, a beer in my hand watching them. I kept my eyes skinned too, but a woman sneaked up on me before I saw her.

‘Why, James, fancy standing here and not dancing,’ she said with a giggle that rasped on my nerves. From anybody else, somebody about forty years younger, it might not have been so bad.

‘Hullo, Doris. I wondered where you were,’ I said, though I did not add – so I could keep out of your way. I guess that was too much to ask in a party of two hundred and fifty people. After all there were only so many rooms to hide in and only so may groups to lose myself among. Of course, I could have hidden in my bedroom but damn it, it was my party too and I wanted to enjoy it. Besides, I would not have put it past her to have come there looking for me. She’d been a widow for some five or six years, and had let it ‘slip’ she was only fifty five. I reckoned she looked sixty five. She was a nice enough person, homely and I knew she was a good cook but her conversation always repelled me. Notice I don’t describe her. After all, what can a man say about a woman of that age, who’d had five children in her time and liked to cook? Suffice it to say I could not have imagined her in my bed. Though she obviously could.

‘Are you enjoying yourself ?’ I asked politely, clearing my throat and wishing like hell she would go away.

‘Yes, thank you, now I’ve found you.’ She gave a little smile, her plump cheeks dimpling in a way that might have been appealing half a life time earlier. I let the compliment go unheeded, waiting for what I was sure was coming next. I was not disappointed.

‘Aha,’ she said, as though this was the first time she’d spotted the flaw in my argument, though she had heard it before and reacted in the same way each time. ‘You might like it but have you thought if they like it? Don’t you think they might be just a little fed up with you falling over their feet all day? Always around to hear their most secret family arguments? Now ask yourself, is that fair, now is it?’

I had asked myself that many times in the past and I was still asking it. Soon after we’d arrived and the business was doing well I had suggested I found my own place to live. I was sure that Meg and Evan’s reaction had been neither false nor motivated by anything other than the fact that they did not want me to go. Doris mentioning it raised my old doubts.

‘You may be right at that,’ I said heavily, admitting it to her for the first time. I think my answer was so different to what I usually said that she was into her next attack before it dawned on her.

‘James Price, what did you say?’ She asked, astonished and full of glee at the same time.

‘I said . . .’ I began but did not get any further. That was another thing about the blasted woman, she could talk the hind leg off a donkey.

‘Of course I’m right. Now my place is much too big for me on my own. I’m not suggesting you move in as a lodger mind . . .’

Like a beautiful and serene angel Meg came to my rescue. She did look beautiful that night, even more so than usual if that was possible. She had her hair piled on the top of her head, and was wearing a blue dress that bunched up under her bosom and flowed down to the floor. ‘What are you looking so serious about, Uncle James?’

Naturally it was Doris who answered. ‘I’d just been saying how annoying it must be for you all to have him under your feet all day and he was agreeing. We were discussing how soon he could come and move in with me – not as a lodger,’ she added hastily.

I was so surprised I did not know what to say. Christ but she had jumped to some conclusions I would never have thought possible from the few words I had said.

‘He will do no such thing,’ Meg said with some austerity. ‘This is his home as much as it is ours and we wouldn’t dream of him living anywhere else.’ She tucked her arm through mine. ‘You don’t really want to leave us, Uncle James, do you?’ She asked, giving my arm a squeeze.

I cleared my throat as something seemed to have jammed itself in there. ‘No, Meg, I’d hate it,’ I said with all honesty. A year with that bloody woman and she would have talked me into an early grave. Talked? Nagged would have been more like it. I had never known a home like the one I was living in now, nor a family I had cared for more. When I was honest with myself I remembered life had not been as good with my wife as my memory sometimes suggested. I lived for the joy of seeing Meg and Evan and the kids and for being a part of their lives. I had just turned sixty six and I wanted to end my days in the company of the people I had grown to love.

‘Good, then that’s settled. This is where you live and this is where you’re going to stay. Gosh, Uncle James, we need you more than ever and don’t you forget it. Now come on, let’s go and dance.’ She dragged me away, leaving Doris glowering after us. Her words had bucked me up more than I can say. After that I enjoyed the rest of the evening.

1895 was no better and no worse than the previous year. That in itself was an improvement because the last few years during the depression had all been downhill. The tide, hopefully, was turning, at last.

We had been to New York for John Buchanan’s farewell to the sea party. We renewed our acquaintance with a number of people, including Senator George Hughes and his wife Mabel, and the banker Eric Johnson. His daughter was there too, as scornful as ever with an insipid husband who seemed to spend his life running around answering her every beck and call. The only noteworthy event was the interesting discussion we had about politics – and a further suggestion by John that Evan take a more active role. This time Evan did not dismiss it so lightly.

27

Meg came to find me one day soon after my escape from Doris. She looked desperately worried.

‘Uncle James,’ she said, ‘we went out for a walk and Evan insisted we should go into the casino and watch. He said that we’ve lived here for four years and have never even put a foot inside. I was reluctant but he made it clear he was going to see what was happening there, so I gave in.’

‘Did you find it interesting?’ I asked.

‘It was intriguing at first, watching the roulette and some of the card games but then I got bored and suggested we should leave. Evan was watching a poker game and though he’d played a bit at home it was different there. The men were all so, I don’t know, intense, I guess. Anyway, it wasn’t the same and Evan was fascinated. He bought ten dollars worth of chips, which are used instead of money. Evan won at first. I told him we should leave, but he wouldn’t come. And now . . . oh, Uncle James, I don’t know what to do. He’s losing and I’m afraid he’s losing quite a lot of money. He’s still there. I’m sure he thinks he can win it all back.’

I went with Meg to the casino, where I stood behind Evan and watched what was going on. There were five men around the table including Evan. He must have had a few hundred dollars worth of chips in front of him. I was in time to see the others drop out of the hand and Evan call the unsavoury character opposite him. Evan lost.

Meg bent down to talk to him. ‘Evan, let’s go, please? I have a headache and . . .’ Evan looked at her with an irritation I had never seen before and Meg stepped back startled.

I watched the character opposite enjoy their exchange then he said: ‘Yes, why don’t you go, Griffiths? We all know how tied you are to her apron strings. It’s well known around St Louis,’ he sneered.

‘He is not tied . . .’ began Meg but got no further.

‘Shut up, Meg,’ said Evan savagely, ‘and go away.’ He turned his back to her and faced the man again. ‘It’s your deal, Thorgood.’

I saw Meg’s face crease with pain as she fought back her tears. Thorgood sneered at her and started to deal. I put my hand on her shoulder and pulled her away. She came unresistingly but not willingly. I bought us a couple of large brandies and we sat at a quiet table. Her hand was shaking when she lifted the glass. She choked and coughed on the fiery spirit and tears came to her eyes, brimming and threatening to flood over.