CHAPTER THIRTY TWO
A Request
Several days had elapsed since the Boxing Day excursion, and Michael Brearly sat despondently on the end of his bed, deep in reflection. His thoughts often wandered back to that day in Port Arthur, yet when he recalled the day in detail, he found that his memories were more painful than pleasurable. Since the outing he had noticed a perceptible change in Agnes’s behaviour, and it made him wonder whether their disagreement about moving to England had left a more permanent impression on her. She was withdrawn and aloof, scarcely spoke, and when she did, she seemed thoughtfully preoccupied.
George too, it seemed, was in a similar state. Unlike the George of old, he ate very little, remained unusually quiet and appeared to be perpetually agitated.
Michael was naturally troubled by these behavioural changes, but to disguise his real underlying concerns for Agnes and George, he deceived himself into thinking that the matter was trivial. He also convinced himself that the up and coming New Year’s Eve Ball at Wintersleigh would cheer everybody up, and make them forget their worries. But so far, it had not. As the ball had drawn closer, both Agnes and George had remained sullen and reserved.
And so Michael sat, deep in thought. It was the day before the grand event, and he had a few things to organise, including what he was going to wear for the occasion. He was just about to rise from his bed, when the sound of scratching caught his attention. He wheeled around and noticed that one of his new kittens was sharpening its claws on his bedroom rug. He shouted at it to stop, but it seemed oblivious to his voice. Michael then jumped up from his bed, and rushed towards the kitten, attempting to scare it. In playful terror, the animal fled, and took refuge under his bed.
This nameless kitten, which was currently terrorising him, had been one of two kittens given to him on Christmas Eve. He had found the animals in a box on the front door step at Rosewood, and thinking that they were intended for him, took them inside. No-one claimed responsibility for the gesture, but he suspected that George might have been involved. Perhaps the present was George’s way of expressing remorse for having caused Henry’s death, but strangely enough, George refused to take credit for the present, asserting that he had absolutely no knowledge of it. Knowing his brother as he did, Michael did not believe him.
The doctor received the kittens with mixed feelings. Part of him rejoiced at the prospect of having more cats at Rosewood, but, on the other hand, he felt guilty at having replaced Henry so soon after his tragic death. And there was yet another consideration. Agnes. Michael knew how much she disliked cats, and he felt certain that she would persuade him to give them away. After much deliberation on the subject, Michael decided to adopt the lively kittens, rather than to abandon them—something he knew in his heart he could never do. And so the kittens remained at Rosewood. They soon wearied the doctor with their boundless energy, but despite their childish playfulness and mischievous antics, they never gave him cause to repent his decision; even now, while one of them was hanging precariously from Michael’s bedroom curtains.
Michael hurried over to the window, and tried to wrench the fluffy villain from the summer curtains. Unfortunately for him, the kitten retaliated by entrenching its claws more firmly into the fabric, and after minutes of struggling, it soon became obvious that no amount of effort would free the animal from its hold, without tearing the curtains.
Suddenly, there was a loud rap at the door, and without waiting for permission to enter, Thomas Maycroft opened the door to Michael’s bedroom and entered. Michael hastily relinquished his hold on the kitten, and turned to face his brother-in-law. Thomas, he noticed, was formally attired, something that struck Michael as being rather odd. It immediately put him on the defensive.
‘Thomas,’ he began, clearing his throat nervously, ‘hullo there. I wasn’t expecting to see you. What can I do for you?’
‘I wanted to ask you for a favour. I’m going out to town in a few minutes, and I wanted you to look after Jack for me.’
‘Sorry, Thomas, but I’m heading out later this morning. I promised a patient that I would call in and see him. It’s not a house call as such, more of a friendly visit.’
‘Perhaps you could take Jack with you?’
‘No, I don’t think so,’ said Michael, feeling increasingly riled. ‘I’m sure my patient wouldn’t appreciate it.’ He undid the top button of his pyjamas. ‘I know you think I’m being unreasonable about this, Thomas but it is very inconvenient for me today. Have you asked George? I daresay he wouldn’t mind looking after Jack. He’s very fond of the boy.’
‘He’s out. He left about an hour ago. I don’t know where he went.’
‘Oh, wonderful!’ Michael muttered sarcastically. He hesitated. ‘I know this is none of my business, but why go into town today? It’s Sunday. Apart from the churches, nothing will be open.’
‘I have a business meeting with an old accountant friend of mine,’ Thomas explained. ‘I’m meeting him at his house in West Hobart.’
‘Nothing wrong I hope?’
‘No, why do you ask?’
‘Oh, no reason. I just haven’t had a chance to ask you about your bookshop. How is business doing these days?’
Thomas seemed reluctant to answer. ‘Has Jack said something?’
‘Jack? Oh no, I was just wondering that’s all. It must be difficult for you to juggle your responsibilities as a parent, with that of your business, particularly in these trying times.’
‘Everything is going well,’ Thomas came back with. ‘Now, if you don’t mind, could you please give me a final answer about Jack?’
Michael detected the antagonism in his brother-in-law’s voice and he raised his eyebrows. ‘Well then, I’m afraid the answer is ‘no.’ As I explained to you earlier, I have already made other arrangements. If you’d given me more notice about your plans, I might have been able to help you.’
‘Never mind,’ Thomas answered ill-naturedly, ‘and don’t bother to explain.’
Michael was quick to reply. ‘Please, Thomas, there’s no need to be like that. Despite what you may think, I’m not trying to shirk my responsibilities as an uncle.’
‘And what responsibilities would they be? Your duty to question my parenting, or labelling my only son an impudent boy?’
Michael straightened himself a little. ‘Ah, I knew it wouldn’t be long before you reminded me of that incident,’ he said slowly. ‘It makes me cringe just to think of it.’ He was silent for a time. ‘There’s no easy way for me to say this. After much deliberation on the matter, I want to apologise for the way I spoke to Jack on Christmas Day, and for what I said. I still maintain that Jack’s behaviour was unacceptable, but I had no right to call him ‘impudent,’ and to interfere in something that was clearly your responsibility.’
‘So you are questioning my parenting.’
Michael considered his brother-in-law’s words. ‘I suppose I am, yes. Not out of spite, of course, but because I care about his upbringing. He’s my sister’s only child, after all. I can’t help but feel involved somehow.’
‘How would you fare, Michael, if you had to raise a child on your own?’ Thomas demanded. ‘How would you cope?’
Michael hesitated, and returned his attention to his kitten. It had just released its grip from the curtains, and once it had dropped to the floor, promptly fled out the door. ‘Very badly, I daresay,’ Michael eventually replied. ‘I don’t know the first thing about children, except medically, of course. They’re so foreign to me, ostensibly irrational and unpredictable. I’m more used to cats. When they are troublesome or make too much noise, I simply put them outside.’ He attempted a smile.
Thomas stood strangely still, and did not return Michael’s gesture. ‘I appreciate your words, Michael, and your frankness regarding parenting, but until you have a child of your own, you have no right to discuss your concerns about Jack’s upbringing with me. As for Jack, he’s the one you need to apologise to, not me.’ He then turned on his heel and stalked o
ut of the room.
Breakfast at Midnight Page 32
