A Glimpse at Happiness

by Jean Fullerton

  ‘Come with Gran and she’ll cut you a giant slice of cake,’ she said and the lad went with his grandmother across the street. With the music playing, the dancers took to the floor again.

  Patrick hunkered down next to his daughter. ‘There, Annie, love, it’s all over.’

  Annie turned her tearful eyes to her father and then, letting go of Josie’s skirts she ran into the house. Josie dashed after her, closely followed by Patrick.

  Patrick had only just managed to keep himself from plunging the knife deep into Charlie’s chest. What he’d said about Rosa was old news and everyone close to him already knew the story - everyone that is, except Josie, Annie and Mickey and it was his children he was most concerned with just at the moment. At four, Mickey was probably too young to understand what the bastard had actually said, but his Annie was the sharp one and he knew from her stricken face that she understood only too well.

  He was just a step behind Josie as they reached the kitchen. Annie sat on his mother’s old chair by the fire with her knees drawn up and her face hidden. Josie knelt down on the dusty floor beside her and gathered the little girl to her. A lump lodged in Patrick’s throat as his daughter threw herself into Josie’s arms and sobbed.

  ‘Aroon, aroon,’ Josie crooned.

  He placed his hand on Annie’s soft hair and then hugged her too, sliding his arm around Josie’s shoulder as he did so.

  He kissed Annie’s hair and smelt Josie’s lavender cologne. Annie turned her tear-stained face up to her father.

  ‘Why . . . why di . . . did he say . . . that about Mam?’ she asked, a sob catching her voice.

  ‘Because he was trying to make me fight him,’ Patrick replied, stroking a damp curl away from his daughter’s forehead.

  Heedless of the dust from the floor on her silk skirt, Josie sat back on her heels and took hold of Annie’s hand. She bent forward and kissed it. ‘Charlie Tugman’s a bad man, Annie. That’s why he said all those hurtful things about you mother. He and his old mother and brother came here to spoil your Aunt Mattie’s wedding day and your father wouldn’t let them.’ She kissed Annie’s hands again and then held them firmly. ‘I hope you’re very proud of your pa because he is a very brave man.’

  Annie glanced up at Patrick and gave a nod. Josie smiled at him over Annie’s head and he saw something that could have been love in her eyes, but he dared not believe it.

  The breath wouldn’t leave his lungs as hope flared in him. What if Rosa were dead . . .

  Josie drew her handkerchief out of her sleeve and wiped the tears from Annie’s cheeks. ‘That’s better,’ she said cheerfully.

  Annie turned. ‘Pa, I am your girl, aren’t I?’

  Patrick felt a pain so deep that for a moment his mind wouldn’t form an answer.

  Josie took hold of Annie’s hands again and squeezed them. ‘Listen, Annie. I remember your pa when he was a lad, and your Aunt Mattie too, and you and your brother are the image of them when they were your age. Your pa is your real pa, and no mistake.’

  A solemn expression settled on Annie’s face. She threw herself in her father’s arms and Patrick crushed her to him. He looked at Josie and saw tears in her eyes.

  He put Annie from him. ‘Now, my girl,’ he said. ‘If you want to taste any of the sugar-iced cake I think you had better go and see your gran before Mickey eats it all.’

  Annie scrambled down from the chair and, giving them a renewed smile, went back down the passageway and back to the party.

  ‘It’s hard enough that she and Mickey have had to grow up with no mother, without adding to their grief,’ she said, ‘but Charlie was speaking the truth about Rosa, wasn’t he?’

  Patrick opened his mouth to deny it but Josie’s unwavering stare stopped him.

  ‘Mattie told me I needed to understand the full story of you and Rosa,’ she said. ‘And now I want you to tell me.’

  A weight lifted off his shoulders. He knew that he’d never stopped loving Josie and that he mustn’t lie to her any more.

  He sat on the table. ‘After I waved you goodbye the last time in New York, my ship sailed down America’s eastern seaboard, then onto the Cape. Four days out of Rio we were caught in a murderous storm, and although the old girl managed to stay afloat, when we limped into Montevideo she was so badly damaged that the crew was discharged. Although I was desperate to sail north and back to you, the only berth going was to Freetown in Sierra Leone, so I took it. When I got there I sent you a letter on a French ship bound for New York. Thankfully we headed north, and when I reached Le Havre I found a ship heading for New York and signed on. So almost a year late I sailed up the Hudson. As soon as I was paid off I headed for Brooklyn, only to find your house shut up. I asked around the neighbourhood and heard that the eldest daughter of Doctor Munroe got married and the whole family had moved to Boston.’

  ‘But Patrick, how could you think that I’d married someone else?’ Josie asked.

  A sad smile spread across Patrick’s lips. ‘Truly, Josie, with you standing here with me now I must have been clean out of my head to believe such a thing, but each time I returned to New York I noticed how much more your family had prospered. You became the daughter of a wealthy doctor while I was still working my way up to ship’s mate. When I heard you’d married, although it tore my heart to shreds, I thought, why wouldn’t you choose a son of a well-to-do merchant rather than a bare-footed deck hand.’

  Josie gave him a furious look. ‘I thought you knew me better than that, Patrick Nolan.’

  ‘I should have, I know,’ he said, raking back his hair. ‘But every time I waved you goodbye I was afraid that when I came back you would have found a man who could give you a proper home and support you in a way I wasn’t able to. So when I heard about the big wedding at your house I thought that was what had happened.’

  ‘Well, as I told you, it was my cousin Jenny who was wed at our house. Uncle Joe had sold his farm and they were living with us until the deeds for the land they bought in New Jersey came through. I wrote and told you that we were moving to Boston but obviously that letter went astray, too. Oh Patrick, if only you’d followed us to Boston, then you would have found me waiting for you.’

  ‘I tell you Josie, not a day passes when I don’t curse myself for not doing just that, but I’ve had punishment enough for being so stupid.’

  Josie’s expression softened. ‘Rosa?’

  He nodded. ‘After I found your house locked up, I took the first ship signing crew and sailed the next day. It was a hard voyage, in the teeth of the winter storms, but I didn’t care. I even went aloft sometimes hoping to be swept away. Having lost you to another man, the cold ocean seemed welcoming.

  ‘We dropped anchor in Gibraltar and I hit the nearest tavern. That’s where I met Rosa.’ He smiled ruefully. ‘She was serving at the bar and was very popular with the men and, ‘as I found out later, they were popular with her, too. I was miserable, and one night when I’d finished one bottle more than was good for me I sought to blot out thoughts of you - in Rosa’s arms.’ He held Josie’s gaze. ‘I sailed off the next day to Istanbul, but when I returned eight weeks later she told me she was with child. I couldn’t shirk my responsibilities so I married her.’

  Josie gave him a warm, understanding smile. ‘I would expect nothing less of you.’

  ‘I thought to make her a proper husband and that’s when I wrote and wished you well in your new life and told you that I’d also married. I didn’t love Rosa, but she was my wife and so I just made the best of it. With a family in Gibraltar I couldn’t sign on for the long passages anymore so I took work on the ships passing through the Straits and started to study for my captain exams. I had no idea that while I was away Rosa spent her time at the port drinking and cavorting.’ He gave a hard laugh. ‘What a fool I was. I thought her a faithful wife, yet all the while she was sleeping with any sailor who’d buy her a drink. I discovered later that she’d taken some of them back to the house, and our own bed, while the childr
en slept in the other room.’

  Josie’s mouth dropped open. ‘How did you find out?’

  ‘One time our ship got blown back to port early and I arrived home to discover Mickey crying in his crib and Annie curled up beside him, filthy and hungry. I found Rosa in the tavern by the quayside. She’d been there for three days.’

  ‘She left her children for three days?!’ Josie crossed herself. ‘Oh my God, what if the house had caught fire?’

  Patrick stood up and paced to the window as blind fury at the memory burst over him again. He stared blankly out for a few moments then turned back.

  ‘I never loved Rosa, though I tried to make it work but, God forgive me, from that day I hated her. We set sail for London the next day.’ He raked his fingers though his hair. ‘I should have left Rosa in Gib, but I thought if I kept a proper eye on her she’d start to behave as a mother should.’

  Patrick ran his gaze over Josie and thought of the ribbon she’d bought for Annie’s hair and how she’d darned Mickey’s socks. ‘I’m ashamed to tell you this, Josie, but Mattie had to cut the children’s hair to get the lice and dirt out and it fair broke Mam’s heart to see Annie and Mickey’s thin bodies. When we got back, I took a house for us all two doors down from Ma’s in Cinnamon Street, but inside of a month Rosa had discovered the Tower garrison. I didn’t care by then and I let her go her own way. Annie and Mickey ate with Mam, and she did our washing too - Rosa was too busy drinking and fecking to be bothered.’

  He was surprised at the bitterness in his voice, but why shouldn’t he be bitter? Not at Rosa, but at himself for being such a gullible fool and throwing away any chance of happiness with Josie.

  Josie stood up, her skirt brushing against him as she stopped next to him. He only had to reach out his arm to slide it around her waist.

  Josie placed her hand lightly on the skin of his forearm.

  ‘I know I should have told you the truth about Rosa before this, but I didn’t want your pity. I’ve never stopped loving you, Josie.’

  ‘I love you, Patrick.’ She ran her hand up his arm.

  Patrick slid his arm around her waist, pulled her to him and lowered his lips to hers. Sliding one hand up her back, he held her head while the other anchored her body against his.

  But he wasn’t free to give her either his love or his name. With some effort he dragged his mouth from hers.

  ‘Josie,’ he said, as she kissed his cheeks and chin. ‘Josie, I love you. I’ve always loved you but—’

  She stopped his words with her lips. ‘Nothing matters now.’

  She was right. Nothing mattered, not Rosa, not his family, or the years of unhappiness, because Josie was here and they had found each other again.

  Lifting her off her feet he moved her back and pressed her between himself and the wall.

  ‘I should never have let you go.’

  He pressed another hard kiss on her open mouth as she ran her hands up the front of his shirt under his open waistcoat. Her fingers traced around the inside of his collar, and then stroked the skin of his neck. His hand slid down from her waist and pressed her into him, but after holding her tight and close for a few moments, desire throbbing through him, he untangled himself from her arms. ‘We mustn’t,’ he said, hoarse with emotion. ‘It’s wrong. I’m a married man.’

  Josie let go of him and they stood away from one another. ‘I know,’ she whispered, lowering her gaze.

  ‘I wish to God that it were not so, but I am,’ he said.

  Josie nodded and continued to study the dirt floor beneath her feet, then she raised her eyes to his face and tears shimmered on her lower lids. She stepped towards him again.

  ‘No, Josie,’ he said, gripping on to the back of the chair until his knuckles cracked.

  ‘But—’

  ‘There are no buts, Josie, only the fact that it’s wrong.’ His gaze ran slowly over her face again, taking in every detail. ‘I want us to be man and wife and, if I could, I would marry you tomorrow, but that’s impossible. If I can’t marry you, then for the sake of your reputation we can’t see each other again.’

  ‘Patrick, my heart won’t survive losing you a second time—’

  ‘I love you, too, and I always will, but we have to face the possibility that I may never be free.’

  ‘There must be some way,’ she implored.

  Patrick tore his fingers through his hair. ‘If there was I’d grab it with both hands but there isn’t, is there?’

  Josie nodded slowly and sadly. ‘Without proper sanction of the church we would be condemned. My reputation would be destroyed, my parents would disown me and I would be regarded as little more than a whore,’ she said, each word falling like a stone between them.

  ‘And I couldn’t live with myself if I had done that to you.’ He gathered her to him and kissed her again, allowing himself to relish the feel of her in his arms. Too soon she broke away.

  ‘I should go,’ she said, but she didn’t move from his embrace.

  He clasped her more closely. ‘If God is good, then we will be together one day, my love.’

  ‘I pray so,’ she replied.

  The door to the scullery opened and Josie turned. Sam was standing in the doorway, Sarah and Mattie at his shoulder and a terrified look on his young face.

  ‘Miss Josie,’ he said, ‘You must come home straight away.’

  Chapter Thirteen

  Josie sat beside the bed on the candy-striped nursing chair and held her mother’s cold hand. Her mind was completely numb.

  Ellen lay with her eyes closed and her face as white as the pillowcase beneath her head. Her dark hair curled over her shoulders but her lips were so pale the edges merged with the waxy hue of her face.

  Robert left Dr Pym and joined Josie at his wife’s bedside. In the light that still shone through the tall windows, his complexion looked grey.

  ‘What did he say?’ Josie asked, as Robert sat on the chair at the other side of the bed.

  ‘He’s done all he can.’ He glanced at the crib in the corner of the room. ‘He couldn’t save our son but he has staunched your mother’s bleeding. She is very weak.’

  ‘She will be all right, won’t she?’ Josie asked, stroking her mother’s hand.

  Her father gave her a bleak look. ‘She’s taken a few sips of water - only time will tell.’

  Josie’s vision blurred as jumbled images and memories flashed into her head. In her mind’s eye she saw her mother laughing while she played with the children and remembered her sharp wit that always brought a smile to Robert’s face. But Josie had other memories too, memories she didn’t share with her brothers and sisters. Memories of how her mother’s hands, raw and bleeding after a day of scrubbing, would always be tender when she tucked Josie in bed at night.

  Dr Pym shoved his instruments back into his case and snapped it shut. He held Robert’s hand in his for a long moment, before leaving the room. Robert returned to the chair opposite Josie and carefully took his wife’s hand. He pressed his lips to her fingers and closed his eyes tightly.

  Mrs Munroe rustled in, her widow’s weeds adding to the mournful atmosphere of the room.

  ‘How is dear Ellen?’ she asked, laying her hand on her son’s shoulder.

  ‘Still with us,’ he croaked. ‘But I don’t know for how much longer.’

  ‘Must we prepare ourselves, Robert?’ Her hand gripped her son’s shoulder. ‘God’s will shall be done.’

  Robert’s face took on a tortured expression, and then he pressed his lips to Ellen’s fingers again.

  Her eyes opened. ‘Robert,’ she mouthed.

  ‘I’m here, my love.’

  ‘I’m thirsty.’

  Robert placed the spout of the invalid cup to her dry lips and she swallowed.

  He gave her an encouraging smile. ‘That’s my girl. Take a little more.’ Ellen did. ‘We have to feed you up and get you better.’

  Ellen lips moved. ‘I want to say goodbye to the children—’

&n
bsp; ‘Josie will fetch the children but you’re not going anywhere. We’re going to get you back on you feet, aren’t we, Josie?’

  Almost blinded by tears, Josie nodded.

  A ghost of Ellen’s fiery spirit passed across her face. ‘Robert Munroe,’ she whispered. ‘After living with you for nigh on thirteen years, do you think I don’t know when you’re lying to me?’

  ‘Ellen,’ Robert forced out as he fought for control. ‘My only love.’

  She raised her hand and ran it down his cheek. ‘Shhh. The children, please. While there is still time.’