“What can I do, Major?”
“Tell me, should I go or not.”
“I think ye’ve already answered that question, Major. My opinion would be for different reasons, but supportive.”
He blanched at her. “What is that supposed to mean?”
She kept her hands at her waist, but began knitting them. She again looked down to the floor. “I believe you don’t wish to go, and I would support that decision because I think it’s the correct one.” She lifted her head and looked him in the eye from across the room. “I also don’t want you and the girls to leave, sir. That’s what I meant.” She turned to the open door.
“Bridey, wait.” When she stopped, she kept her back to him. “Why do you say you don’t want us to leave?”
She wouldn’t turn to him. Hoe this row gently, Bridey, ‘tis only been a month! “Because, sir, I would miss the twins terribly!” she said in a hoarse whisper. “I know it’s not me place and all that, but I’ve grown to—they’ve become quite dear to me, sir.”
“I see.”
Now she turned back to him. “I don’t know anything at all about your career and whether or not this move to England would help or harm it, sir. England’s not ye’re home; ‘tisn’t the girls’ home neither. An’ with Missus Melanie not by ye’re side, how welcome would an Irishman be there?”
He cast his eyes downward. “Her family blames me for her death you know. Their letter arrived in the post this week.”
“Major Crawley, you don’t want to go then, do ye?”
He gave a small shake of his head.
“And the general is chomping at the bit for this?”
He nodded.
“So the power rests with ye?” A small smile curled her lips.
“Yes.” He leaned forward in his chair. “Bridey, what is this leading up to?”
“The general wants something badly… perhaps you can make this work for ye. Missus Crawley had mentioned ye would receive a promotion were ye to go. Is that so?”
He nodded. “A real jump in the ranks. I would bypass being a lieutenant colonel and go directly to the rank of colonel, yes.”
She brightened looking at him. “Then tell the general you’re willing to pass on this mission providing he promotes you anyway, and allows you to finish your career here!” Her hand rose to clap softly the side of her face, mouth open slightly. “I’m sorry, sir if I’m being impertinent, but why not at least try?”
The major grinned. “What a devilishly clever idea, Bridey!”
“Do you think he’d go for it, sir?”
He gave his head a shake. “Absolutely! A colonelcy! Here, in Kingston! Of course, he’d do it! High command would jump him in rank before sending him—to demonstrate to our English cousins the high value we place on this mission. So he would be most open to the idea of sharing his good fortune with the man who opened the door for him! Yes! It could work!” He shifted to rest his arm on the arm of the chair. “It would take a bit of maneuvering, of course… dangle the bait out to him, get him all worked up in a lather, then strike when he’s most excited!”
“You must be a fantastic fisherman, Major,” she said.
“Why thank you, Bridey!” He was smiling as she took her leave.
‘So am I, Kevin. So am I…’
***
For a full year, Bridey played the role of competent housekeeper and warmhearted nanny. The Christmas holidays were particularly difficult for the now Colonel Crawley. The happiness and joy of the season were dampened by his seeing how quickly his daughters adapted to the new state of their lives. While he cried on Christmas Eve after putting them to bed, they awoke greatly excited to see what was under the tree. Bridey had asked permission to give them each a gift from herself, as if she needed to! When they opened them they were greatly pleased at the small silver medals.
The girls held them in the palms of their hands.
“Who is the man?” asked Alice.
“He’s St. Jude, dear,” said Bridey. While the colonel was sitting in a wing backed chair watching the children go through their presents, she stood by the door in her maid’s uniform as proper as could be. “He looks out for people, like all the saints do.” She wasn’t going to tell them he was her favorite saint. “Now look on the edges and tell me if ye find anything else.”
The twins bent their heads down to their medals, eyes focused.
“Yes!” said Alice. “A and C!” she looked over to her sister and pointed out the engraved initials.
“That’s right,” said Bridey. “For Alice and Agnes Crawley.”
“St. Jude, eh, Bridey?” said the major. “Patron saint of lost causes, if I’m not mistaken.”
She turned her head to him.
He leaned forward in his chair. “And what cause or hope might you be harboring that you would need such help?” His voice was soft and gentle.
The moment of silence between them drew out. As she felt his eyes on her she bit her lip and made herself blush as she had been practicing.
In almost a whisper she said, “I’ll be starting breakfast now, Colonel,” she said, and stepped from the room. In the hallway she paused and inhaled deeply.
‘Just a slight dangle of the hook in the water for now, Kevin. I’ve all the time in the world.’
***
That springtime, she cajoled the colonel to put a swing up in the garden.
“It would be such a help to me, Colonel. They could frolic and play on it while I get the flowers in,” she told him. He put up a sturdy one, with thick rope and an oak seat, making it wide enough that he could swing on it with each of his daughters beside him. She made sure to keep her back to him as she listened to the squeals of delight and his own laughter. He was beginning to come out of it now…
“Sing us a song, Papa,” said Alice.
“Yes, please, Papa… it’s been so long!”
She kept her back to him, yanking the weeds when he began.
Oh Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling
From glen to glen, and down the mountain side
The summer’s gone, and all the flowers are dying
‘Tis you, ‘tis you must go and I must bide.
She turned slowly to him, and watched his eyes boring into hers. She put down her trowel and stood, listening. When he came to the final verse, she joined him in song:
And I shall hear, tho’ soft you tread above me
And all my dreams will warm and sweeter be
If you’ll not fail to tell me that you love me
I’ll simply sleep in peace until you come to me.
I’ll simply sleep in peace until you come to me.
The twins’ eyes flitted back and forth between the two of them as their voices faded, leaving the air thick.
“Bridey…” There was a catch to his voice.
She blinked three times at him then turned and fled into the house. She flew up the stairs to her room and slammed the door, her back to it, panting for air.
Moments later she heard his footfalls on the staircase and down the hallway. She could hear him on the other side of the door, his breath labored.
She could feel and hear the soft tap of his knuckles on the wooden door.
“Leave me be, sir…” she said weakly. “Please!”
“Bridey…”
“Didja’ leave the girls all alone in the yard below?”
Her question hung in the air.
“Aye, and I did.”
“Please, sir, go now to them. There’s cold meat in the icebox ye can have for supper. I’ll be down in ‘da mornin’.” She took a deep breath. “I’ve been foolish, and I’m too embarrassed to show me face tonight!”
“Bridey, you’ve been anything but foolish!”
“Please, sir!”
She didn’t respond again when he called her name. She bided her time until she heard him go back downstairs.
She smiled when she did.
‘The line’s now cast, Kevin. Will ye be a go
od fish now and have a nibble at the bait?’
***
She made sure that on the anniversary of ‘the crumpet’s’ death the bottle of sherry the colonel would be drinking had been fortified a fair bit with some poiteen she had gotten the last time she was down to Lowerton. It was a powerful moonshine and she made sure not to add too much. She hummed a little ditty as she doctored the sherry:
‘… and the juice of the barley for me…’
The colonel didn’t join them for supper. Instead, he slid the doors of the parlor shut while they ate. When it was time for their bedtime, Bridey lied and told the girls he had to go out in the evening for some special soldiering duties but would be home in the morning. She watched them carefully for any sign that they knew what day it was; but there was nothing. The colonel had decided that since they had no other family but their household, an anniversary Mass and commemoration would not be necessary, although he had gone to the seven o’clock daily Mass at St. Mary’s that morning.
She crept back down the stairs and sat in the living room, across the hall from the parlor, listening to the tink of the bottle against the glass as the night wore on. She sat primly, listening to him sob.
‘Not yet, Bridey. Patience, and just give him a nibble…’
She waited until the caterwauling ceased and heard him refill his glass twice more. Lord Almighty, he could hold his liquor! Any other man would have been asleep by now.
Standing, she went to the door to the parlor and gently pulled it open.
He sat in a wingbacked chair, his hair disheveled and looked up at her with owl’s eyes.
“Time for ye to get some sleep, Colonel,” she said in her softest voice.
His face crumpled. “I loved her with all me heart, Bridey! I miss her so!”
“As ye should,” she stepped to him and put a hand beneath his arm, helping him to his feet. “A finer woman never lived, sir. She was like a sister to me. The older and grander sister I never had!” The sharp intake of his breath was better than she expected.
“You’re a kind and ignorant girl, ye know that, Bridey?” He sputtered as they began to climb the staircase.
“I’ll take that as the backhanded compliment it was intended to be, sir.” He staggered on a stair and she righted him before things got worse. She gave a soft laugh. “Ye’re drunk as a sailor!”
“A sister to ye, she was, eh Bridey?” He wheezed at the top step.
“Aye, sir. Kind and good ta me every day.”
When they got to the bedroom door, he weaved on his feet. He turned the knob and swung it open. “She was planning to sack you, Bridey.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “Sack you for your Irishness!”
“‘Tis the drink in ye, talking, sir. I’ll be hearing none of it!” She turned him around and marched him to his bed.
He took her hand. “I’d like a son very much, Bridey. I’d like a son very, very much…” He kissed her hand sloppily.
‘A good nibble there, just tug it away now before he strikes.’
“And ye’ll be having many sons, sir! You’re a young man in ye’re prime!”
“Oh? With who, Bridey? Who would bear my sons?” He grasped at her again.
She caught him by the wrists. “They’d be lined up outside the house if you gave them half a chance, Colonel!” She smiled sweetly to him. “And make sure ye pick the best of the lot!”
With a shove, she tumbled him onto the bed.
“Bridey, Bridey… don’t be leavin’ me in such a state…” he muffled into a pillow. She hoisted his legs up onto the bed and scurried to the door.
She stepped outside and spun around to peek through the opening. “I’ll not be leavin’ ye Colonel, don’t you fret,” Softly, she pulled the door shut.
‘Pulled it away, but dangled it back for a last lookie-loo!’
She went to bed smiling.
***
The next morning, she had his tea and breakfast prepared for him when he came down the stairs. She made sure to act as bright as a new penny in the face of his chagrined behavior. Each time he tried to “discuss last night” with her, she shooed him away from the topic by mentioning the weather, new shoes for the twins and her plans for the upcoming weekend.
“More tea, Colonel?” she asked, holding the pot for him.
“Sit down, Bridey.”
She replaced the teapot on the tabletop and sat down, perching on the edge of the kitchen chair. Keeping her face impassive, she asked, “Am I to be sacked now, Colonel?”
He dropped his eyes to the table. “I’m sorry I told you that.”
“I don’t believe ‘tis true, Colonel. I don’t understand why you would say such a thing about Mrs. Crawley.”
He let out a deep breath. “It is true, Bridey.”
“Was that your wish as well? Did you plan to sack me, sir? Because if that’s the case…” she willed her eyes to fill with tears.
“No! No Bridey, not at all!” He reached across the table and took her hand. “I was going to give her a chance to get over it, and then advocate keeping you on!”
She pulled her hand away from his. “Very well, sir. I believe you.” She gave a quick smile which was almost a grimace. “‘Tis water under the bridge anyway, Colonel Crawley. Is there anything else?”
“Yes. I would like you to stop addressing me as ‘Colonel Crawley’. It’s far too formal for my taste.”
“Sir?”
“I call you Bridey. I would appreciate it if you were to address me by my given name.”
She let the silence hang in the air and tilted her head at him. Speaking slowly, enunciating every word, she said, “You wish me to address you as Kevin?” When he nodded, she gave a small laugh and said, “No, no, no. I’m afraid not, sir! Wouldn’t be proper, you see.”
His face fell to her satisfaction, but she became a wee bit concerned when it began to turn pink. Embarrassment? Or Anger? Not wanting to make the wrong choice, she stood quickly and smiled brightly, her eyes sparkling.
“How about a compromise, sir?” She stepped around the table to be beside him, with just enough sway of her hip to cause her floor length skirt to whisper. “Could I call you ‘Colonel Kevin’? I would like that very much.”
His eyebrows furrowed with a look of disappointment. Men! When they try to look stern, more often than not, they take the face of a pouty boy! In spite of the urge to chuckle, she formed her face into an expression of anxious longing, biting her lower lip, eyes serious as he gazed into them.
With a cough, he regained his composure and said, “If that’s what you feel is most appropriate, then I shall concede the field, Bridey.”
She nodded. “Thank you, Colonel Kevin.” When she turned away, he grasped her wrist gently.
“For now,” he said, before releasing it.
The Haunting of Crawley House (The Hauntings Of Kingston Book 1) Page 7
