by Sandy Taylor
‘I’ve felt the same sometimes, Nora. I’ve been angry with God for making me the way I am but maybe there’s a reason for it all and maybe one day we will find out what the reason is.’
I smiled at him. ‘You’re a wise boy, Stevie, and you’re loved and it’s love that’s going to help you through this. I hope that Eddie knows that he is loved too.’
‘Do you think Dooney will miss his uncle?’
‘I think that because God in His wisdom made poor Dooney the way he was, that he has saved him from the pain and suffering that the rest of us feel. I think that Dooney has never really grown up, he’s childlike and like a child. He will just accept that the kind man who took him for rides in his car doesn’t come anymore.’
‘It’s sad though, isn’t it?’ said Stevie.
I nodded.
Just then we heard a knock on the door. Stevie stood up and went across to the window. ‘There’s a car outside, Nora.’
‘Is it Father Kelly?’
‘It’s too posh to be Father Kelly’s.’
I walked down the stairs just as Mammy opened the door to Caroline Bretton. They stood staring at each other.
‘I am under no illusion that I am welcome in your house,’ said Caroline. Her voice was high-pitched and shaky.
‘I have never turned anyone away from this door,’ said Mammy, ‘so please come inside.’
Caroline looked out of place, standing there in her fine clothes, looking as if she’d rather be anywhere but here. I tried to imagine what she thought of our house, after the luxury she was used to. Even the servants’ hall was bigger than our little kitchen. Not that I was ashamed of my home – I wasn’t and I wouldn’t swap it for all the Bretton Halls in Ireland.
‘Please take a seat,’ said Mammy.
I was still standing on the stairs, with Stevie on the stair behind me. Caroline looked across at me. ‘I would like to speak to Nora,’ she said.
‘Then you will speak to myself and my husband as well,’ said Mammy. ‘Stevie, go and fetch your daddy.’
I could never have imagined Caroline Bretton sitting at the table in our kitchen but this was a different woman to the one I had feared and hated – she looked nervous and ill at ease, and there was no sign of the arrogance that I had come to know. We sat in silence waiting for Stevie to return with Daddy.
‘Can I get you a sup of tea?’ offered Mammy.
‘That would be very welcome,’ said Caroline.
I watched in fascination as she peeled off her gloves, slowly and deliberately, one finger at a time, and placed them on her lap.
Mammy boiled the kettle and took four cups down from the dresser. ‘Do you take sugar?’ she asked.
‘Just milk, please,’ said Caroline.
I’d never known anyone take tea without sugar – maybe it was just something to do with being an Honourable.
Mammy put the tea on the table just as Daddy, Stevie and Malachi came through the door. Daddy nodded at Caroline and went over to the sink to wash his hands. Malachi stood staring at Caroline.
‘That your car?’ he said.
Caroline looked down at him and actually smiled. ‘Yes,’ she said.
‘S’big,’ said Malachi.
‘Yes, I suppose it is,’ said Caroline.
‘Stevie,’ said Mammy, ‘would you please take Malachi to feed Bonnie?’
‘Yes, Mammy,’ said Stevie, taking Malachi’s hand and going outside.
‘Caroline wants to speak to Nora, Colm,’ said Mammy.
‘Then let’s hear what she has to say,’ said Daddy, sitting down.
Caroline stared down at the table, she cleared her throat and began to speak.
‘I know how you feel about me,’ she said. ‘But this isn’t about me, it’s about Edward, my nephew.’ She paused. ‘He is very unhappy. I have nurses caring for him around the clock and a doctor comes to the house every week.’
‘What has all this got to do with Nora?’ asked Mammy.
‘He won’t cooperate with anyone, he won’t get out of bed and into a chair, he barely speaks. The doctor says that he is losing the will to live. The only person he wants to see’ – she looked directly at me – ‘is you, Nora.’
‘Nora is going back to Dublin. She can’t be at your beck and call,’ said Mammy.
‘Wait, Mammy,’ I said. I turned to Caroline. ‘How can I help him?’
‘He needs a companion, someone of his own age, and the only one he will agree to have is you, Nora. You owe me nothing, I am aware of that, but I’m not asking for myself. I love my nephew with all my heart and if you can bring some hope back into his life, then I am asking, pleading, that you will consider working at the Hall as a companion for Edward.’
‘She will be paid?’ asked Daddy. ‘I won’t have her working for you as a skivvy and I won’t have her sleeping in the servants’ quarters – she will be no servant to the Bretton family. I have a long memory, Miss Bretton, a very long memory. You tried to have Cissy thrashed when she was just a child, you deliberately tripped her up when she was carrying a tray of glasses. You bullied and humiliated her the whole time she worked at the Hall and when she most needed help, you turned your back on her. If Nora wants this job you are offering her, then we will allow it, because she is your nephew’s half-sister and she loves him but let me make this very clear: if you harm one hair on her head, or if you try to humiliate her as you did her mother, she will be out of there and she will never go back. Do I make myself clear?’
Caroline’s face had gone red, she twisted the gloves on her lap and stared down at the floor. She didn’t speak right away, then she looked at Daddy. ‘Her only duty will be to Edward. She will be paid well.’
Daddy reached across the table and held my hand. ‘This is your decision, Nora,’ he said.
My heart was filled with joy, like seeing a rainbow after a storm. I could be with Eddie, I could help him and somehow, I knew that we would go back to the garden.
‘I accept the position,’ I said, ‘and I will help Eddie in any way I can.’
Caroline stood up. ‘Thank you, Nora,’ she said.
I nodded. ‘I will be there tomorrow morning.’
Part Three
Forty-One
My bedroom at Bretton Hall was bigger and grander than any room I’d ever slept in before. It was the old nursemaid’s room, and had two doors: one leading onto the landing and the other leading into the nursery, the room where Eddie used to play when he was a child. I wasn’t up on the top floor, in the eaves, with the other servants, but on the first floor, on the same level as the Honourables, although somewhat removed from Caroline and Eddie.
The landing outside my bedroom was severe. The floorboards were dark wood, polished to a fine shine, and the walls were lined with paintings of long-dead Honourables whose eyes seemed to watch me as I crept along to my room. I was always glad to slip inside, out of the cool gloom of that corridor.
The bedroom had felt strange at first, because it was so different to anything I’d known before, but not in a bad way. The walls were the colour of forget-me-nots and the curtains were of the palest yellow. Against one wall was a dressing table with a gold-edged mirror, and in the corner was a desk with a little chair in front of it. Most of the floor was covered with a large rug of intricate design, in the same blues and yellows. Even when the sky was grey and overcast, the room still looked like a summer’s day.
It was such a pretty room, with watercolours on the walls; pictures of flowers and animals and cottages that I assumed had been chosen by the nursemaid. I never knew her, this woman, but she had left lavender bags in the drawers to keep away the moths and to add a sweet scent to the wood, and that was thoughtful of her; she must have been kind. The only other evidence of her that I found was a hairgrip in the bottom of the wardrobe.
The room had a soft shabbiness to it that soon made me feel comfortable. The windows were very old and did not quite fit in their frames, but it was summer and usually I had the windows t
hrown wide open anyway, to let in the sunshine and the warm air, the sound of birdsong and the smell of hay being cut in the meadows.
The bed was large and soft and had on it the most comfortable sheets I’d ever slept in. And the pillows! I had four pillows to myself and grand pillows they were, in white cotton slips with appliqued hems. Sometimes I put all four pillows behind me and sat up in my bed like a real lady; it was a wonderful feeling.
I remembered the day I had first seen the house; it was the day that me and Kitty had crawled through the broken bit of fence and into the grounds of Bretton Hall some five years ago. I remembered thinking that the bricks were made of gold and what it would feel like to live in such a grand place. Well, now I knew, and it was the very same as I imagined it would be.
In the mornings, my tea was brought to me on a tray and I could drink it in bed or else take it to the dressing table and sit in front of the mirror, staring at my face and the beautiful room behind me, wondering at the twists and turns of fate that had brought me here.
I was glad to wake up in that room every morning, glad to slip out of the bed and walk across the warm floorboards with my bare feet to draw back the curtains. I liked to rest my elbows on the window ledge and gaze out across the grounds, green and lovely in the bright sunlight. It was a far cry from the view from the windows of our house in Paradise Alley. I could see for miles; huge, lovely old trees, acres of meadowland; fields where sheep and cattle grazed. I could see the distant twinkling of the sea.
I was happy to wash at the washstand and then go to the wardrobe and take out my clothes for the day. I was glad to brush my hair at the dressing table and finish my tea and then check that my appearance was neat before I went to the door and turned the handle, ready to go and find Eddie, so that we could eat our breakfast together.
Caroline had kept her promise to Daddy and I was treated with kindness and respect by the servants and staff that worked at the Hall. She visited Eddie every day and was always polite to me. We were united in our love for Eddie, and both took pleasure in the smallest of improvements in his health. I only left his side when the nurses came in to tend to his personal needs, then I walked in the grounds.
I got to know Corny the gardener, and told him that I was worried about the secret garden and how it was going to flourish without me and Eddie to look after it.
‘No need to worry yourself about that, Miss Nora,’ he said, leaning on his spade. ‘I’ve been keeping an eye on it meself, doing a bit of weeding and stuff. I won’t let it die, so don’t you be fretting yourself over that. I would be grateful if you would give my best wishes to Master Edward.’
‘I will, of course,’ I said. ‘I’m sure it will give him pleasure to know that you are looking after it.’
I hadn’t gone to the garden myself; I would only go back when Eddie was at my side.
Eddie slept a lot, but Dr Kennedy said that sleep was part of the healing process. After several weeks at the Hall, I had long since finished reading The Secret Garden to him, as well as some other books that he’d had in his room. It was then that Caroline said that I was welcome to use the library whenever I liked. It was on the ground floor just off the large hallway. The door squeaked as I opened it, as if it hadn’t been opened for a long time. The room was dark, but not scary. One wall was taken up by rows and rows of books that reached up to the ceiling, and there was a ladder on a rail leaning against the shelves. The other three walls were of the darkest brown panelling and the windows were draped in heavy brown velvet. The curtains were closed, so that no light came into the room. I walked across and opened them just a little bit. I could see better then and gazed in wonder at the hundreds of books that looked as if they had never been touched. There were more books in this one room than in the whole of Finnigan’s. I didn’t know where to start looking for a book that Eddie would enjoy.
Just then, the door opened and Caroline walked in. I was surprised to see her and I waited for her to speak.
‘Eddie told me that I would find you here,’ she said. She didn’t speak for a moment, then she said, ‘I don’t know why we have so many books, my parents were never great readers; I think this room was just for show. It was only my brother, Peter, that loved to read, and he passed his love of reading on to Edward. Even before Edward could walk, he loved being in this room.’
I was still wary of Caroline, and didn’t quite trust her – she had hurt my mammy and been nothing but unkind to me before I moved to the Hall. I took a deep breath. ‘I want to find a new book to read to him,’ I said. ‘But I don’t know where to start looking.’
Caroline looked along the shelves, her hand trailing along the spines, then reached up and handed me a book. I looked at the cover: Moby Dick, by Herman Melville.
I opened it up and smelled the pages.
‘What are you doing?’ said Caroline.
I felt foolish – I should never have done that, not there and especially not in front of her.
To my horror, tears started to pour down her face. She didn’t brush them away, she just let them fall.
‘I didn’t mean to upset you,’ I said, quickly.
Caroline walked across to the window, her back to me, and seemed almost to be speaking to herself. ‘It’s what my brother Peter used to do, we all made fun of him but he kept doing it.’ She turned and faced me. ‘He said that every book and every story had its own special smell.’
Suddenly, my father became real to me. I could see the young boy who loved to read books and who smelled the pages just as I did. I started to cry and suddenly Caroline’s arms were around me. We stood, holding each other. Caroline cried for her brother who had died and I cried for the father I had never known.
That was the day that Caroline Bretton and the girl from Paradise Alley became friends.
Forty-Two
As the summer came to an end, Eddie allowed himself to be lifted from the bed and into a chair by the window, where he could look out over the grounds. He could see the tall trees that edged the bottom of the sweeping lawn. We both knew that beyond those trees was the garden, but Eddie never mentioned it, so neither did I.
We sat side by side, in front of the beautiful windows, and I started to read Moby Dick to him. ‘Call me Ishmael…’ I began. We were both spellbound by the story of Captain Ahab, who sought revenge on the great white whale, Moby Dick, who had bitten off half his leg. We sailed the high seas with him, on his ship called the Pequod, searching for the whale. Caroline had chosen well – the story would keep us enthralled until the very last page.
Eddie didn’t have much of an appetite. Me and Caroline were worried that he would never get strong if he didn’t eat, so as soon as he fancied something, I would go down to the kitchen and ask Mrs Dinny, the cook, if she would make it for him.
‘You come down as often as you like, Nora,’ she’d said. ‘I will make him anything he wants; our hearts are only breaking for the poor boy. We all feel so helpless, but one thing I can do for him is cook and it will be an honour to do it. You come down any time you like, girl.’ Her eyes had filled with tears. ‘There are only the three of you to cook for now, and I miss the days when I was rushed off my feet and longing for a bit of a rest.’
‘My mammy always says “be careful what you wish for”,’ I’d said.
‘And your mammy is right, Nora. Everything has changed, even Miss Caroline. The accident seems to have knocked the rough edges off her.’
‘Thank the Lord for that!’ Rosie the kitchen maid had said, as she scrubbed down the table.
‘And who are you to be judging your betters, Rosie Tierney?’ snapped Mrs Dinny.
Rosie had coloured up and went back to scrubbing the table as if her life depended on it.
‘Sorry, Mrs Dinny,’ she mumbled.
‘I should think so as well,’ said Mrs Dinny.
Most of the staff had been dismissed after the accident, as there were no grand banquets or balls to cater for. A lot of the rooms had been closed off and white
dust sheets covered the furniture. Two housemaids, Kathleen and Alice, were kept on to keep the house clean, and Caroline still had her own lady’s maid to see to her needs.
* * *
As summer turned to autumn, my thoughts returned to the garden. I knew how beautiful it would be at this time of year and I longed to be there. I longed to sit on the bench with the leaves falling around me and fly high over the pond on the swing that Eddie had made. I longed for the feeling of peace that the garden had always given me and I longed for the days when Eddie and I had worked side by side, a life that had gone forever.
It was easier to write to Joe now, because I had more to tell him about than a white hospital room with a single bed where Eddie had lain. Now I could tell him about Bretton Hall and my beautiful bedroom and the library that held more books than Finnigan’s bookshop, but I couldn’t tell him what he wanted to know. ‘When are you coming back to Dublin, Nora? When will I see you again?’
The Finnigan’s girls all wrote to me as well, and all asked the same questions, but they were questions I couldn’t answer right now. My only thoughts were for Eddie. Joe felt like someone I had known in a different life, a world away from the life I was living now. I often wondered whether, if the accident that had me hurrying back home had never happened, would Joe and I have got closer? Would he have asked me to marry him by now? And if he had, would I have said yes? I knew that it wasn’t fair to leave Joe hanging on and hoping that I would soon return to Dublin, but I was too afraid to just let him go. I remembered Kitty saying, ‘You can’t love Eddie the way you love Joe, because he’s your brother.’ I knew that what she had said was true, but right now Eddie needed me more than Joe did. But that didn’t mean that I didn’t still care for Joe. Everything was so mixed up since I had left Dublin, and I couldn’t trust what I was feeling. It made my yearning for the peace of the garden all the stronger.
