She rounded on her husband, ‘They could have stopped you. They could, you know, following me like that, me being in the Diplomatic Service.’
‘You weren’t followed, my dearest one. I was just given the information of where you would be at certain times, and sometimes I just happened to be there. The only time that wasn’t arranged was the day I sat down in the tube beside a strange woman and we recognised each other. Remember that day?’
Rosie lay back on the couch and closed her eyes. She was trying hard not to laugh, for now both the Carpenters and Charles were making quite a noise in their amusement. Then, nodding at Fred, Charles said, ‘That’s the thanks I get. I bought her that Daimler for a wedding present, together with the most beautiful gown in Paris, ready for a ball we’re going to next week.’
‘I didn’t want a damn Daimler. You can keep it. I’d rather have my old tin can. As for the gown, I’ve enough money to buy my own clothes.’
‘Oh, isn’t that music to my ears?’ Charles was now holding his hands palms out towards the ceiling. ‘No woman has ever before said that to me—she has enough money to buy her own clothes. Oh! My dear,’ he now swiftly caught hold of her hand and said, ‘that is really wonderful news that you can buy your own clothes.’
She pushed him roughly away from her; then looking at Sally and her voice changing, she said, ‘That’s what we really came down about, the ball; and of course I wanted to show him off,’ indicating him with a nod. ‘But can you come next weekend and stay with us? It wouldn’t be the same if you didn’t. It really is going to be our wedding celebration. It’s going to be a great get-together, a mixture of all kinds. People I was at school with, people we’ve both worked with, my family…well, from there to umpteen good people from James’ parish and the Connolly family, and a number from the factory. Then there are my American in-laws. His father is coming over, and one or two more. I think the one or two more range up to about fifty—I’ve lost count. I’ve left all the arrangements to his man. Can you believe that, dear? That he still has to have a man to look after him?’
‘Even when he has you?’ put in Fred.
‘Mr C! I can tell you I’m not looking after anybody else any more in my life; I want to be looked after. I told you that, Mrs C, didn’t I? A long time ago I was tired of looking after people. And, apart from you two, nobody spoke my language or looked after me until now. By the way, the only two I haven’t invited are the Fawcetts—let us sock it to you, remember?—who dropped you like a hot brick when at the murder trial they realised you were in sympathy with our family. But I’ll have another think about it.’
Then with the most tender look Sally had ever seen on her face Rosie turned and looked at her tall, handsome husband, a man touching his mid-forties, Sally thought. Taking his face between her hands, she said, ‘This dear man has promised to give me something that I’ve known I’ve wanted for a long time now, and that’s a family.’
Fred and Sally had no words to describe the look on Charles McHannen’s face. It was alight with love. You could say adoration, and something else that Sally didn’t fathom till later, which was humility…
Rosie and Sally were both upstairs saying goodnight to each other. They had left Fred and Charles smoking cigars downstairs.
They were sitting on the edge of the Carpenters’ bed and Rosie asked quietly, ‘Were you surprised?’
‘Surprised, my dear? Flabbergasted! I still haven’t got over it. You know who we expected?’
‘No?’
‘When a man got on the phone and said he was very, very happy and Rosie would tell us why, of course we never thought about Charlie. Well, who would when the man who was speaking was James Watson?’
Rosie let out a giggle. ‘You really thought I was going to marry James?’
‘Yes; yes, we did. We love him. He’s a good man and we kept telling ourselves when we got over the shock that he was a very good man. Yes; but we had to admit we couldn’t really imagine you spending the rest of your life in the East End of London. Oh, really, at times, we couldn’t bear the thought; but James seemed so happy.’
‘Yes, dear James,’ said Rosie. ‘He was. He was happy for us both. He was especially happy, I’m sure, for Charles, for he said to me it was strange the way God worked. He and Peter had played that trick on Charles with the help of his father in the hope that it would let him see there were other ways of living besides his own selfish one. But they never imagined it would have such an effect on him. And you know, Charles had believed this had all happened as it did until just before old Mr Watson died, when something he let slip when Charles was visiting him helped him put two and two together. But he wasn’t annoyed at going through what had been really an awful week with the Connollys because they had taught him that people could be happy without money. They also taught him that more than half of the world didn’t know how the other half existed, and something inside him urged him to alter his accustomed ways. He has never touched whisky since that night.
‘You know, I was attracted to something in him from the first. That night he spoke of our having met years before; I fell for him then, I think. And later, even when I knew he had been married twice, it didn’t wipe out the feeling. I thought about those women. They married him for his money, but I have not married him, my dear Mrs C, for his money. I have married him because I love him. I found that out six months ago.’
Rosie leaned towards Sally and put her head on her shoulder, and Sally put her arms around her and listened as she said quietly, ‘Oh, I do love him. You said that one day I’d meet someone whom I would love, and I have; and you know, you might think it’s silly but I find him wonderful to be with. I only hope it will last.’
‘It will last, dear, never fear. Like Fred and me. What we have you two will have, and it will grow with the years.’
The End
Rosie of the River Page 18
