The English Tutor (34 page)

“
Clancy, my child, have you heard already?
”
he exclaimed.
“
I was coming back to tell you.
”

She looked up at him, dazed for the moment, then she flung both arms round
him
and was sobbing and laughing by turns.

“
It wasn
’
t true!
”
she cried,
“
I might have known Micky was exaggerating, he always does. Oh, Mark, I thought you were dead, and last night I said I wished you were and I thought it was a judgment—oh, Mark, I would have died, too.
”

He held her closely, remembering that blind, stricken face which he had thought was for her father, an
d
his voice held a great compassion as he said gently,

“
Don
’
t cry, darling, I
’
m quite safe, but I
’
m afraid I have bad news.
”

She looked up and read the truth in his rather drawn face.

“
Kilmallin?
”
she whispered, and he nodded.

“
He insisted on driving, and I couldn
’
t stop him,
”
he said.
“
He ran the car off the road, and the shock has been a serious one, I
’
m afraid.
”

“
Is he dead?
”
she asked quite calmly.

“
No, he
’
s not even badly hurt, but it brought on a severe heart attack. You
’
d better know, my dear—it may prove
fatal.”

“
He might,
”
she said clearly,
“
have killed you.
”

He looked at her curiously.

“
Would that have been worse?
”
he asked with gentleness.

“
Yes,
”
she said, on a queer little note of surprise,
“
yes, it would. Kilmallin
’
s never cared for me.
”

He took the two hands resting against his breast, and turned them palm upwards and gently kissed them.

“
Come home now,
”
he said, putting an arm round her shoulders and turning her towards Kilmallin.
“
Doctor Boyle is bringing him back.
”

Kevin lasted through the night. He lay in his big carved bed, unresisting, asking nothing. Doctor Boyle, after a time, gave instructions to Agnes and went away, saying there was nothing he could do. You could not fight the long undermining influence of drink, he said. Kevin might recover sufficiently to eke out the life of an invalid for a little while longer, but personally he did not think it likely.

“
The fight
’
s gone out of him,
”
he told Mark.
“
He knows he
’
s finished and he
’
d not want to live the life of a heart patient. Mrs. Callaghan
’
s expecting her seventh, so I
’
ll be back in the morning.
”

Just before
midnight
, Kevin asked for Mark.

The bed was in shadow, and the window, uncurtained, was open to the warm June night. Moths fluttered round the oil lamp where Agnes sat, doing some mending. She looked up and nodded as Mark came into the room, then went on with her sewing, her old face puckered, like a child about to cry. Mark sat beside the bed, listening to Kevin
’
s difficult breathing and noting the blue shadows round his mouth and nostrils.

“
I
’
m sorry,
”
he whispered.
“
I should have listened to you. I might have killed you.
”

“
Don
’
t worry about it, Kilmallin,
”
Mark said gently.
“
I haven
’
t even a scratch. You
’
ll be feeling different yourself in the morning.
”

Kevin smiled faintly.

“
No,
”
he said without regret,
“
I
’
m finished. Boyle knows it, you know it. I should like to have seen my son grow up,
but perhaps it
’
s justice that I shouldn
’
t. I
’
ve set too much
store by him.
”

He stopped speaking, swallowing with difficulty, and Mark slipped an arm under the pillows, supporting
him
while he held a glass of water to his blue lips.

“
I wanted to tell you—to ask you to look after Clancy for me,
”
he began again.
“
I
’
ve been a bad father—you often let me see it, didn
’
t you, Mark? I wanted a son—a son like Clancy—and I forgot I had a daughter.
”

“
Yes,
Kilmallin,
you did. Your daughter
’
s worth ten of your son, as Michael John would tell you.
”

“
Och, the garden boy! Perhaps you
’
re right—you know them both better than their own father does, and true, Clancy always had the guts.
”

“
Would you like to see her?
”

Kevin moved his head wearily.

“
Not now, not now. I
’
ll see Brian later. I
’
ll
s
ee my son
...
You
’
ll look after Clancy, Mark?
”

“
I
’
ll look after her, I promise you.
”

“
Rest aisy, now, Kilmallin,
”
said Agnes, rising and bending over the bed.
“
You
’
ll be talkin
’
the breath from your body.
”

Aunt Bea and Mark sat up in the library, but Mark sent Clancy to bed.

Mark sat, smoking, and replenishing the small fire with turf while he listened to the scratching of Aunt Bea
’
s pen as it travelled across many pages, and thought of his promise to Kevin. The house was very still and, outside, no sound disturbed the dawn hours. A thin grey line already showed between a gap in the curtains, and just at daybreak Kevin asked for Clancy. Mark went to fetch her himself. He stood with a candle while she put on a dre
ss
ing-gown and slippers, and when she asked if he thought it was the end, he told her the truth.

“
Did he ask for me?
”
she said, tying the end of her dressing-gown in a clumsy knot.

“
Yes, he asked specially for you, Clancy.
”

“
Not Brian?
”

“
No. He only wanted you.
”

“
Oh!
...
”
Her eyes filled with tears, but she smiled at
him
and went with him along the silent corridor to her father
’
s room.

Agnes met them at the door, tight-lipped and disapproving.

“
I should fetch Brian,
”
she whispered,
“
Kilmallin will be wanting his son.
”

“
I should leave him if his father hasn
’
t asked for him,
”
Mark said quietly.
“
There
’
s no point in disturbing the boy
’
s sleep and upsetting him. How is Kilmallin?
”

“
Very low. They should all be here, Miss Bea and Miss Kate and the children and the servants, too, for the blessin
’
of a dyin
’
man.
”
Agnes had rigid ideas on the etiquette of dying, and Mark, glancing at Clancy
’
s face, gave her a warning look.

“
There
’
s time enough, Agnes. Don
’
t fret
him
with a crowd of people,
”
he said, and gently pushed Clancy into the room.

Kevin lay back on the pillows, very quiet except for his difficult breathing. In the pale dawn light his face looked pinched and shrunken and old.

“
Clancy
...”
he said, and his fingers moved weakly in invitation.

She went to the bed and took his hand in hers.

“
I
’
m here, Kilmallin,
”
she said steadily.
“
Rest easy.
”

“
You
’
ve been a good son to me, Clancy,
”
he whispered,
“
—a good son
...
you and Brian should have changed places
...
you should have been the next Kilmallin
...
”

“
Brian will carry on for you,
”
she said.

His hand stirred restlessly in hers, and his lips moved but she could not catch what he said. Mark watched them both from the doorway: Kevin, quiet and unfamil
i
ar against the pillows, his eyes closed now, and Clancy in her long blue dressing-gown standing so motionlessly beside him. He glanced at Agnes inquiringly, but she shook her head and knelt stiffly to replenish the fire.

Kevin
’
s eyes opened and his voice was suddenly strong.

“
Kitty!
”
he said,
“
you
’
ll catch cold, love, in your dressing-gown
...
”

“
It
’
s Clancy, Kilmallin, and I
’
ll not catch cold,
”
she said.

He moved impatiently.

“
Ah, Kitty
...
kiss me, sweet,
”
he said, and, after a moment
’
s hesitation, she bent and kissed him on the forehead.

“
You always were careless of yourself,
”
he said.
“
You must mind yourself, my love, for our son
’
s sake
...
you
’
ll give me sons, won
’
t you, Kitty?
”

“
Yes,
”
said Clancy, and her lips were white.

“
Kitty
...
”
Kevin whispered, and a sharp spasm contorted his face and his head rolled a little to one side.

Mark moved quickly forward and felt for
h
is pulse, then he put his hands gently on Clancy
’
s shoulders and drew her away from the bed.

“
Come,
”
he said.
“
We will leave him to Agnes.
”

She looked up at him and the pupils of her eyes had dilated so that they looked nearly black.

“
Has he
...
is he
...
?
”
she asked, and he nodded.

“
Yes, he
’
s gone. Come away, now.
”

He took her down to the library, where Aunt Bea was still writing her letter to her sister Kate. She looked up as they came in and her pale eyes focused on them with difficulty.

“
He
’
s dead?
”
she said then, without surprise, and shut the blotter with a long sigh, and got up.
“
I
’
ll go and make some tea,
”
she said, and quietly left the room.

Clancy drew back the curtains and stood looking out on the new day.

“
It wasn
’
t me he wanted in the end,
”
she said.
“
It never has been me.
”

Mark came and stood behind her with compassionate hands on her shoulders.

“
He mistook you for your mother at the end,
”
he said gently.
“
That often happens with older people. They go back into the past.
”

“
Yes ... he was still thinking of the sons she was to bear
him
...
poor Kilmallin, all his life he never really had what he wanted
...
”

She leant her head against his breast wearily, but with relaxation.

“
Did you know it
’
s a year to the day since you came here?
”
she said.
“
Do you remember the goat and Ki
lmallin
enjoying the joke that your name was Cromwell, and you saying you wouldn
’
t teach me, and Kilmallin say
i
ng you could wallop me if you liked?
”

“
Yes, Clancy, I remember.
”

“
And
Kilmallin
brought out the good whisky as a sign that he liked you. Everyone liked you except me and Agnes, and, perhaps, Conn a little, only he was jealous of Clodagh. Did you like us?
”

“
Very much.
”

“
Even me?
”

“
You, perhaps, most of all.
”

“
In spite of being so rude to you?
”

“
In spite of being so rude to me. Perhaps it would amuse you to know that I stayed on your account and not Brian
’
s.
”

“
Did you? How queer. Why, I wonder?
”

“
You interested me, and I think I was sorry for you—you were such a lonely creature.
”

“
Yes,
”
she said, and she thought that long ago she had always feared Mark a little because he alone had penetrated to her real self.

She turned and faced him, dry-eyed and composed and infinitely forlorn.

“
What will I do when you leave us?
”
she asked.
“
What will become of me now?
”

He looked down at her with great tenderness.

“
Would you transplant, I wonder, you strange, wild Irish girl?
”
he said.

“
Transplant?
”
She was too tired to understand his meaning.
“
Leave
Kil
malli
n
too, is that what you mean?
”

“
Not entirely, but you
’
re worn out, we won
’
t talk about it now—and here
’
s your aunt with the tea.
”

They put out the lamps, still burning palely in the daylight and gathered round the fire to drink their tea. In the morning light their faces looked tired and drawn, and it was difficult to remember that Kevin lay dead upstairs.

“
There will be so much to see to,
”
Aunt Bea said a little helplessly.
“
It
’
s difficult to adjust oneself, isn
’
t it?
”

“
Don
’
t worry, Miss Bea,
”
Mark said gently,
“
I
’
ll take all I can off your shoulders.
”

She sighed.

“
Yes, you
’
ll do that, won
’
t you, Mark? We
’
ve always
depended on you.
”

Clancy looked at him in silence. Yes, she thought, Mark would see to everything, just as he always had, and in a little while he would be gone, he and
Kilmallin
both gone
and no one left to order their lives. The slow tears welled up and fell, not grief for Kilmallin who had never loved her, but for that other compassion and understanding which would never come again.