Jean Grainger Box Set: So Much Owed, Shadow of a Century, Under Heaven's Shining Stars

by Jean Grainger

  ‘Daddy!’ Juliet squealed as she raced through the double doors from the courtyard. ‘C’est aujourd’ hui! Finalement! Solange m’a dit que…’ Remembering she was speaking in French she stopped, then continued, ‘That we can go to big school, and James is going to sit beside me ’cause he’s not able to open his sandwiches on his own.’

  ‘I am, Daddy, I am able to. Solange wrapped them up for us in an easy way. She is only saying that so everyone will know she is older, but she’s only six minutes older and that’s nothing, sure it isn’t, Daddy?’ James yelled, drowning out his sister.

  Richard pulled his twins onto his lap, one on each knee.

  ‘Now, listen here to me, the two of ye. I want the best behaviour, is that clear? No blackguarding or we’ll cancel school altogether and you won’t be going at all.’ The tickling that resulted in gales of giggles softened his words.

  ‘Careful, Richard,’ laughed Solange. ‘Knowing this pair, they could use that against you as soon as the novelty wears off.’

  ‘We’ll be the best in the class, and we won’t fight or say bad words or do nothing bad,’ Juliet promised while James nodded sincerely. Richard looked into the tanned faces of his children, so happy and carefree from a summer spent climbing trees and riding the old donkey Eddie kept in the bottom field.

  Solange had been so right to resist the boarding school. Edith had, of course, been furious and hadn’t spoken to him in months, but in a way, this made for an easier existence. She spent her evenings alone, still reading and writing those endless letters. He was fairly sure she was in correspondence with another man; things had died down politically after the Civil War, yet still the missives kept coming. He contemplated asking the man’s name, just to let her know he was not completely unaware of what was going on in his own house. But in the end, he decided against it. Their love – if there ever had been any love for him on her side – was dead, and so who she corresponded with was her own business. Clearly, Edith didn’t want the scandal of separation. He didn’t like to think about the future, how he would end his days in his childhood home with a malevolent stranger. But for now, while the children were small, they filled up the empty space in his heart left by his failed marriage.

  ‘Now, are we ready?’ he asked, breaking out of his reverie. ‘Have you got your lunch?’

  ‘Yes, Daddy,’ they chorused.

  ‘Well, say goodbye to Mrs Canty and Solange and let’s go.’

  The twins ran into Mrs Canty’s outstretched arms.

  ‘I’ll have the buns ready when ye get home, with currants in some and none in the others, all right?’ she whispered to them, trying not to cry. James loved currants, but Juliet hated them. As she released them from her embrace, they came to stand in front of Solange. Richard observed that though they were boisterous and loved horseplay with anyone, they were always gentle around her.

  She crouched down to be at their level. Holding a hand of each twin she spoke softly, ‘Alors, mes petits. J’espère que tout va bien à l’école. N’ayez pas peur, je sais que vous allez beaucoup vous amuser. Bon courage. Je vous aime fort.’ Kissing them each on the cheek, she rose and went out to the yard. Richard knew she would miss them today, but she would never let them see that.

  As he shepherded them out of the main door towards the car, he chanced to look up. Edith stood at her window, looking down imperiously. She made no gesture to her children, no wave or a blown kiss. Luckily, the twins didn’t see her, nor did it occur to them to ask for her. As far as they were concerned, home was Daddy, the Cantys, and Solange.

  Chapter 9

  The daily routine of Dunderrig continued to bend around the lives of its two noisiest inhabitants. Only their mother remained aloof, keeping to her rooms apart from a daily walk around the garden; there she might stop and speak to Eddie for a moment – just a few words about some plant or bush to which he was attending. He seemed to be the only person in Dunderrig whom she could tolerate near her, perhaps because he was so unobtrusive and quiet.

  James and Juliet loved Eddie as a grandfather. They would rush in with tales of how he’d shown them how to do this or that; they regarded him as an authority on virtually everything. Richard knew he took them shooting rabbits as he’d done with Richard himself as a boy, and while he now had a hatred of guns, he trusted Eddie Canty implicitly. Richard suspected Eddie said more to the twins than he did to any other human being.

  One Sunday towards the end of September, James and Juliet begged Richard and Solange to take them fishing in the river. Mrs Canty packed sandwiches and cake; they had a lovely day. The children caught two trout, which they insisted were twins, just like themselves; they named them Jimmy and Julie and released them back into the water. Richard lay back on the grass, listening to the gentle lapping of the river and the ceaseless chatter of the little pair as Solange showed them how to make daisy chains. He felt how perfect life would be if all he ever had to do was while away the time with nature and little children all around him.

  They returned tired and happy, and with the twins badly in need of a bath. As always, Edith insisted the children dress for tea in the drawing room. They were exhausted but dutifully the little family of four sat down in the austere room with the large table. The twins were different in here, Richard thought, much more subdued.

  ‘Did you have a nice afternoon?’ Edith asked.

  ‘Yes, Mother,’ they chorused but were unforthcoming with any further details. When they’d arrived in earlier, they had regaled Mrs Canty with stories of fish and flowers and a squirrel they saw, and how Daddy accidentally put his foot in the water and had to take off his shoes and socks because they were all wet. They giggled, chatted, and finished each other’s sentences.

  Now, James was scratching his neck where the collar of his shirt was irritating his skin.

  ‘Stop scratching, James,’ his mother said. ‘It looks awful. I hope you haven’t caught fleas. I told you not to pick up those cats from the barn. Though, given the children he mixes with in school, God knows what kinds of things he is exposed to,’ she added pointedly to her husband.

  ‘Mary Sweeney had creepy crawlies in her hair, and the Mistress had to make her go home to get them combed out and when she came back the next day, she smelled yucky,’ piped up Juliet.

  Edith glared at Richard.

  ‘Head lice,’ Richard explained, ‘like to live on clean hair, so anyone can get them. I suppose they are just like rabbits or cats or humans, just trying to live their lives. They wouldn’t hurt you at all, but they just make your head a bit itchy so that’s why you have to use a special soap to get rid of them. That’s why she smelled a bit funny, but it could just as easily have been you or James. Lice are happy to live on anyone’s head.’

  James giggled, ‘Imagine if you had rabbits in your hair. Going boing, boing!’ Juliet joined in, making funny noises. Soon both twins were in fits of laughter.

  ‘For goodness sake!’ Edith exclaimed. ‘You’ve had a whole afternoon running wild like animals, is it too much to ask that you sit and have a meal like civilised people?’

  Immediately, the children stopped laughing and resumed eating their tiny sandwiches.

  The meal continued interminably in silence and after what seemed like an hour to Richard, Edith addressed the children once more.

  ‘You may go.’

  Relieved, they scrambled off the high-backed upholstered chairs and escaped to the kitchen, where they knew Solange and Mrs Canty would be waiting with hot chocolate and their pyjamas warming near the range.

  Richard made to leave also.

  ‘Please wait, Richard,’ Edith spoke. ‘I wish to speak to you.’

  Richard sat down again, dreading what was sure to be more criticism of Solange or Mrs Canty or the children. Since she hadn’t spoken to him in months unless the children were present, it seemed unlikely to be anything good. ‘Yes? What is it?’

  ‘Well…’ For once, Edith did not seem to be d
elivering a prepared speech. She cleared her throat. ‘I’m sorry to say this to you, although I suppose it won’t come as a shock. In fact, you’ll probably be quite relieved. I’m going away. I’m going to London.’ She stared at the linen napkin in her hands.

  ‘London? What are you going to London for? Shopping? Because really, Edith, the children have enough clothes and so on, and you are constantly annoyed that they don’t wear the things you buy them, and now if you are suggesting you come back with more…’

  ‘No, Richard. I’m not coming back. I’m leaving Dunderrig. I’m leaving you.’

  Richard was stunned. He knew she was unhappy, but he had never thought she would leave him. He had assumed she was too afraid of scandal.

  ‘Why?’ he asked. ‘Why now?’

  Edith gave an exasperated sigh. ‘Why? Why? For goodness sake, Richard, I’m leaving you because if I don’t, I’ll go insane – stuck here in this bloody house all day with Solange and that fat peasant Canty. You arriving in the evenings, looking like you are having a tooth pulled! You have nothing to say, you don’t know anyone – well, anyone that matters – you are a mediocre country doctor whose idea of fun is… Well, I don’t know, actually… What is your idea of fun, Richard? I doubt you know the meaning of the word. Life with you is suffocating; it’s so boring, so tediously, deathly dull!’ Her voice had risen to a scream.

  ‘Why did you agree to marry me, Edith?’ Richard asked quietly. ‘I never claimed to be fun, as you put it.’

  ‘I really don’t know.’ Edith was dismissive. ‘I’ve had plenty of time to reconsider though, have I not? Stuck first with your aged, decrepit parents and then you, back from playing soldiers for the British. The same British Army that was butchering your own people, incidentally, not that such things ever occurred to noble Doctor Buckley, oh no, just saving lives and not taking sides, how honourable.’ She spat the last words in disgust.

  ‘There’s someone else, isn’t there?’ Richard looked straight at her.

  ‘That’s irrelevant,’ she snapped.

  He felt cold, inside and out. ‘I would think it’s highly relevant, Edith.’

  She twisted the napkin fiercely. ‘Yes, there is someone. I suppose you are going to find that out, anyway. But he’s not the reason. It’s just because I can’t…’

  ‘Yes, yes, you can’t stand us anymore, so you’ve said. So, do I know this someone? Let me guess, some suave Gaelic revivalist or politician, probably one of your parlour room Republican friends, pouring forth about the cause from the comfort of some hotel bar?’

  ‘Look, Richard, this is hardly helpful. I am going, and I just…well. That is it. I’m leaving, and I won’t be coming back. Whom I am going to is not your concern.’

  He clenched his hands beneath the tabletop. ‘There are two small details you haven’t mentioned, Edith. Perhaps you feel they are, as you are so fond of saying, irrelevant, but you do have two children – or had you forgotten them as usual?’

  ‘Of course I have not forgotten them,’ she snapped. ‘Caring for them both will be difficult until I am settled, so I only plan to take James for now – he’s more manageable than Juliet. Then when I can, I will send for her, as well. Though how long that will be, I’m not sure.’

  ‘Over my dead body.’ He tried to keep his voice low. Rising from his chair, he walked around the table. He looked into Edith’s eyes; he knew she was frightened. Crouching down in front of her, their eyes were level. He was physically closer to her than he had been in years.

  ‘You can do what you like, go where you like, with whoever you like, but you will not be taking my children. Either of them. Is that absolutely clear? Solange, Mrs Canty and I have taken care of them and loved them since they were born, without any input whatsoever from you, their so-called mother. They don’t love you. They don’t even like you – do you know that? They hate these stupid tea parties and they love Solange. Do you know why, Edith? Do you? Because Solange knows what love is. She is not afraid to hug them and kiss them and tickle them – things a normal mother would do. She’s known a life of pain and loss, and you’ve had nothing but privilege and what did it make you? A spoiled, selfish bitch.’ His face was inches from Edith’s. He hated the sound of his own voice as he spoke – cold and threatening – but she had driven him to speak like this.

  ‘Your children? Yours?’ Edith’s eyes glinted hatred as she shouted at him. ‘You’re so sure of that, are you? You stupid man! I only slept with you in Dublin because I was afraid I was pregnant by another man. A real man. Your precious twins? They don’t even look like you!’ She stormed out of the room, pushing past Solange and Mrs Canty, who had come running when the shouting first began. ‘I hope you heard that, you eavesdropper!’ she screamed into Solange’s face before she rushed upstairs. ‘They’re not yours, they’re not even his – they are mine, both of them, and if I wish to take my son with me now, none of you can stop me!’

  Richard felt as if he was going to be sick. They were his children; they had to be his children. He loved them so much. Everyone always said they were the image of him. Solange ran to his side.

  ‘Where are they?’ Richard croaked, leaning on the table for support.

  ‘Eddie took them out when the shouting began, they heard nothing. They are down with the donkey,’ she comforted him.

  ‘I have to find them, stop her from taking them…’ His eyes were frantic.

  Edith reappeared down the stairs, carrying a small valise.

  ‘I will send for the rest of my things later. Solange, pack some things for James immediately. Canty, have your husband bring the car round, we are going to the station.’

  ‘Do you hear her, Dr Richard?’ Mrs Canty puffed up like a balloon. Grabbing the valise from Edith, she threw it out on the gravel outside the open front door and, rounding on the taller woman, she gave vent to all the fury she’d been bottling up inside her for years.

  ‘Now, you listen here to me, you tramp! Do you think we don’t know what’s been going on with your fancy man above in Dublin, and you a married woman writing love letters like an auld hoor? You’ll get your scrawny carcass out of this house, and we never want to see you again, do you hear me? Those are our twins, they are Buckleys through and through, sure little James is the living head cut off his father when he was that size. There’s nobody for three counties around has those same green eyes so whatever you were up to with some auld tom cat above in Dublin, it did not result in our twins, d’you hear me? Dr Richard did nothing but be a good decent husband to you, you hussy, and this is how you repay him? You are no better than you should be, with all your airs and graces. You think you are so high and mighty with your bigwig friends and relations? Pah! This house and this family are too good for the likes of you, not the other way round! Now, my husband will leave you to the train because ’tis the way we’ll be sure to be rid of you and let me tell you something…’ Mrs Canty now had a fistful of the front of Edith’s dress, pulling her towards her, ‘You are a cold, unnatural woman, and those children, or us, never want the misfortune to clap eyes on you again. If we do, ’tis more than a slap on that pointy, miserable face you’ll get! Now you sit in there, in the drawing room and keep your filthy mouth shut while I fetch my husband and don’t even think of speaking to James and Juliet. We’ll explain everything to them when you’re gone. Don’t worry, they won’t miss you a jot, and by next week, they’ll have forgotten you completely.’ Shoving a shocked Edith into the drawing room, she turned the key, locking her in.

  Solange was trembling. She’d never seen such a display, and she thanked God the children hadn’t been there to hear any of it.

  ‘Solange,’ she heard Mrs Canty saying. ‘Go with Dr Richard and find the children and Eddie. Send him back with the car to take that baggage to the station, and you take the children up the fuchsia wood for a walk till all this is over.’

  She did as she was told. Her instinct was only to keep James and Juliet safe. Edith could not h
ave been serious, surely, about taking her son? How could she? She knew Edith always preferred James, and she knew that Juliet noticed it – making her even more sullen around her mother than she might otherwise be. Nevertheless, for Edith to want to take James and leave her daughter behind was unfathomable. Solange vowed that Juliet would never know.

  ‘Richard, I think they are still down in the low field where Eddie took them with some carrots for the old donkey. Let’s go and fetch them and talk to Eddie about the car.’

  Richard seemed dazed. ‘No need to get Eddie, sure I can drive her…’

  Solange spoke gently, ‘I think, perhaps, it is better for you if Eddie takes her. We can take the children for a walk, pick some flowers, and try to behave normally. We can talk about this later if you wish when they are in bed.’

  ‘Yes.’ Richard replied, glad Solange was taking charge. Edith’s words were still ringing in his ears: You stupid man. They don’t even look like you.

  Solange and Richard walked through the fields leading to the river. On the still autumn evening, the children’s high little voices rang clearly in the distance.

  ‘There they are,’ Solange said, relieved. Though she knew there was no way Edith could take them now, she still felt on edge; she needed them close. Realising she would have to do most of the talking, she said as brightly as she could, ‘Ah mes petits, Papa and I are going to take you for a walk, to pick some fuchsia for the table. Mrs Canty is making shepherd’s pie because she knows it’s your favourite dinner, so we’ll get her some of her favourite flowers. Quelle bonne idée!’

  The children were delighted at the prospect of an impromptu outing with Solange and their Daddy.