Hannah massey (30 page)

moment. And as his shoulders began to shake with the compressed

weeping within, she whispered, "Aw, don't, Da, don't. It's all right:

I tell you it's all right. "

He drew away from her and rubbed his face with his hand, and as he looked at her again his eyes focused on her mouth and he -muttered, as if he could almost feel the agony of the moment they had been knocked out, "Your teeth, lass. Oh, your teeth."

She said brokenly, "Don't worry. Da, please." Then, "Come and sit down for a minute, Florence'll be back soon."

"No, lass, no, I've' got to go. I've ... I've business to see to...."

As he said. this his eyes were drawn to Hughie and he answered the message in them by omitting to state the type of business that called him away; instead, he said to Rosie, "What are ye' thinkin' of doin"

with yourself, lass? "

It was Rosie who now looked towards Hughie, and when she turned to her father again she did not lower her eyes as she answered his question, in a minimum of words, "I'm going with Hughie, Da."

The effect was to startle Broderick, bringing his mouth agape, and his back straight as if the words had injected him with aggressive life.

As he turned towards Hughie it was as if Hannah herself had entered into him, and for a moment Hughie thought he was going to be attacked, at least by a spate of words, accusing, derogatory, spiteful words.

Then as Broderick, drawing in a deep breath, turned from him and looked at Rosie again the spirit of Hannah seeped out of him and he asked, quietly, but tersely, "You know what you're doin'?"

"Yes, Da." She cast a glance in Hughie's direction, not towards his face but to him as a whole.

Broderick, turning towards the sink, gripped its edge and let his body fall towards it, as if to rest for a moment; then straightening

himself, he said in a hopeless tone.

"I'd better be off."

"Da!" The appeal brought him round to her, and after looking at the face that had filled the last twenty-three years of his life with pride and on which now there was left not one recognizable feature, he

clamped his teeth down on his lip and, thrusting out his arms, drew her to him.

"Oh, Da! Da!"

"There now, there now." They stood dose for some moments; then after passing his hand over her hair he pressed her gently from him, saying thickly, "Wherever you go, lass, I pray that you have peace and... and happiness. Good-bye now." He lifted her hand and held it to his face for a moment before pushing her away.

Silently, and with her head deep on her chest, she turned from him and went out of the kitchen; and when she was gone Broderick moved towards the back door, and he stood facing its blankness as he spoke to

Hughie.

"I've got nothing against you, Hughic," he said.

"I never have had, but I'll say straight to you now, I wish from the bottom of my soul this wasn't happening'. But as it is, it's thankful to God I am she's where she is at this minute, for if she'd known of this there'd have been more than one burial the morrow. Rightly or wrongly she would never have suffered it. Her first daughter an' her last. No, she'd never have suffered it in this world."

When no word came from Hughie, Broderick raised his head and looked back at him, saying, "I'm not blamin" you, I'm not blamin' you. As a man I understand. Nevertheless, you must grant it's an odd situation.

"

"I do grant it, Broderick, but in me own defence I'll say what I've said before. Karen wasn't really my doing; if ever there was a rape that was it. But with Rosie, well... I'll admit to you now, I've sat in the corner of your kitchen for the last few years just so that I could look at her, or be there when she came, and that's the truth.

I've always said to me self that I didn't make the break because I hadn't any guts; the other excuse was that I wanted a family, to be a member of a family; but what I really wanted was to be near Rosie.

But"--he lifted his hand towards Broderick" --I never had any hope, don't think that. Not in my wildest dreams did I have any hope of one day having Rosie, that would have been too fantastic, and she wouldn't be coming with me now but she's in a jam, at least that's how I see it.

-I'm not going to hold her to anything, Broderick. "

"You're not marrying her then?" The question was sharp.

"Not unless she wants it.

When she gets on her feet again it'll be up to her. "

"You're a strange fellow, Hughie, a strange fellow. Are you staying in the country?"

"No, Broderick, I'm going abroad as I planned."

"To stay there?"

"Aye, to stay there."

"Then I don't suppose we'll meet again, and I'll never see her again."

"You never know, I can't tell you that, Broderick. Anyway, you might decide to take a trip."

"Not this side of the grave.... One last thing... what if she finds out her mother's dead and how she died? The world's a small place; a

chance word and she'll know it."

"I'll meet that emergency when it comes, Broderick. In any case, she'll be in a better state of mind to face up to it than she is now; but if I can help it she'll never find out. "

Broderick opened the door, and pausing before he stepped into the

street, he said, "It's a queer business.... Well, there's nothing more to say then. I wish you good-bye, Hughie."

"Good-bye, Broderick." Hughie waited for the old man to extend his hand, his own was half wavering forward, but when Broderick made no move in this direction Hughie said, "I'd like to say thank you, Broderick, for the kindness you've shown me over all the years."

Broderick now looked straight into Hughie's face and he kept his

concentration on him for fully a minute before he said, "I could say that you've shown your thanks in an odd way, Hughie, but when I've time to reflect I might be thinkin' it's the best thing that could have happened to her, for God knows when a lass takes one step down the ladder there's plenty of willing hands to help her to the bottom.

Good-bye, Hughie. "

"Good-bye, Broderick."

Not until Broderick had disappeared round the corner of the did Hughie go in and close the door, and then he stood with his back to it, his eyes tight shut and one hand inside his collar gripping it hard. He felt exhausted, as if he had been struggling physically with an

opponent; and he had, and not only during the past ten minutes, but for years past. But now he had won. No, no, not quite. Perhaps it would be months ahead before he Would know for sure, but he'd be content to wait. He was used to waiting, he'd had a lot of practice.

But this period of waiting would be different. He'd be waiting as a man waits, I us not as a mouse in the corner of a kitchen. The

thought brought him from the door straight upright on his feet. He squared his shoulders and lifted his head and went out of the room.

It was ten o'clock the following morning and they were ready to go.

Everything that had to be said had been said. Now, with brotherly

awkwardness, Dennis held Rosie to him, saying, "Forget everything as I said and enjoy your life, Rosie." He bent his head forward under the deep fur hood which covered her face, and gently he put his lips

against her discoloured cheek.

"Thanks, Dennis, thanks for everything." Her voice was unsteady.

Now Florence was standing before her. Her hands adjusting the hood, she said, "This is the very thing, you can hardly see your face at all.

But if anyone gets curious, just do as I said, tell them you were in a car accident."

"It's so good of you, Florence, I'll send it back."

"You'll do no such thing. But when you can get about yourself get another coat; this" --she touched Rosie's sleeve"--would fit three of you. I was mad to let him go shopping on his own." She cast a tender glance towards Hughie. Then putting her arms about Rosie, she pressed her close as she whispered, "God bless you." They were strange words coming from Florence, who didn't believe in God, only in man.

And now Florence was enfolding Hughie in her embrace and was crying unashamedly; then pushing him abruptly from her she said, "Go on, get yourselves off, this could go on all day. We won't come to the car, the less attention drawn to your going the better."

Hughfc and Dennis were now gripping hands in the open doorway. Both were evidently deeply disturbed and Hughie had difficulty in

speaking.

"We'll all be together again and before very long, I know. Anyway," he moved his neck upwards out of his collar, "you'll be hearing from me later in the day."

"Aye, aye," said Dennis, "phone us from the airport."

"Oh, may be afore that. So long, Dennis."

"So long, Hughie. You know what I wish you." The hands gripped for the last time, and then Hughie, holding Rosie's arm, led her to the waiting car, and before they reached it the door of the flat closed behind them.

Hughie hoped that Rosie hadn't noticed this for it might set her

wondering at the peremptoriness of it. It might appear as if they

couldn't get rid of her quickly enough. But Dennis and Florence were now, he knew, scurrying into their clothes to be ready -when the taxi called to take them to the house for the funeral.

But apparently Rosie hadn't noticed anything unusual. Getting into the car, she settled herself down, and as it began to move cautiously

forward she did not turn and take one last look at the flat, but from the depth of her hood kept her eyes directly ahead. She was so full now of a mixture of emotions that she felt the slightest move would cause her to break down. There was on her mind an oppressive weight.

Oddly enough the weight did not seem to be connected with what had happened to her in London. Strangely she found she wasn't thinking of th art any more. Somehow it had been wiped out by the blows her mother had showered on her; it was, she knew, the thoughts of her mother that were weighing on her, encasing her. And she felt sad, so terribly sad with the knowledge that when she left this town she would never see her father again. She had no regrets about never seeing her mother

again.

Hughie was talking now, rapidly, nervously.

"It'll be better when we get on the main road, k'll be clearer. We should be at the airport in two hours, but I'm giving me self four just in case. It was lucky about the booking, wasn't it? That's because there's not So many travelling across this time of the year. I've got to make a call before we leave the town, Rosie. I've got to go to the bank. I might be five or ten minutes. You won't mind?"

"No, no, Hughie."

"Look," he was nodding to the road ahead, "how would you like to sit in the caravan time I'm in there? You could lie down, the curtains are drawn. How about it? You're supposed not to ride in the caravan, but what odds."

"I... yes, I think I'd prefer that, Hughie."

"We'll stop at yon side of the road. You know," he made an effort to laugh, "I only want an excuse for you to see inside. You've never seen it yet." He glanced towards her and saw the movement of the hood. She did not turn her face towards him.

They stopped, on a quiet road at the top of the park and Hughie

unlocked the caravan door, and when Rosie entered, her surprise brought the first touch of lightness to her voice.

"It's wonderful, wonderful, Hughie. I never thought it would be like this, it's ... it's like a house." She turned to him now, saying, "Oh, Hughie," but he did not look at her. Instead, going to the settee opposite an actual fireplace in the middle of the caravan, he said,

"Lie on this one, will you, it'll make the balance better. The end one there," he inclined his head, "might tip it up at the back a Bit and...

and I'm not yet used to the feel of her."

When she sat down saying, "I'll just slip me boots off," Hughie said,

"Oh, don't bother about that."

"Oh, but I must, they're dirty."

As she took her boots off and laid them aside he smiled at her. It was an appreciative smile. She would look after nice things, would

Rosie.

When she was lying down he put a rug over her; then squatting on his hunkers and bringing his face level with hers he said, "Do you know what I'm going to do?" He sounded excited, like a young boy. She made a small movement with her head.

"I'm going to see the bank manager.

I'd arranged with him to send the cheque to Dennis the morrow but I think now it's too long to wait, so I'm going to have him send it by special messenger. He'll do that for me. I've never given them

anything, in kind I mean, not a thing, and being human they might just wonder, so I'd like to do this afore we go! " He raised his brows at her.

"There's one thing I'm sorry for, an' that is I won't see their faces when they get it. Anyway it'll be nice to think of the baim being born in a nice little house, their own house."

"Oh, Hughie." She put out her hand with the intention of touching his cheek, but before it reached him he had risen to his feet.

"Better be making a move," he said; "I'll need all the time I've got to get to that airport, not being Stirling Moss." He turned away laughing. Then from the door he nodded to' her

"All right?"

"Yes, Hughie, I'm all right."

Starting up the car once more he gulped in great draughts of air. It had all been easier than he expected. For he had a horror on him of someone stopping them and saying to her, I'm sorry to hear about your ma, Rosie. It would be just like the thing, he thought, if it happened almost at the last minute. He felt easier now she was in the

caravan.

He was in the bank less than ten minutes and he was smiling wryly to himself as he emerged. How smoothly the wheels of life ran when you had a little oil to grease them with. A special messenger would be at Dennis's at one o'clock. Dennis had only the morning off from school so he would be home by then, but if he wasn't home the messenger would return again at half-past

Y

four; the letter had to be delivered personally.

As he stepped briskly across the pavement to the car and caravan he knew that he wouldn't be able to relax or get rid of this jittery