I gave George an anxious glance but he shrugged. ‘Leave him to himself for a wee while, lass.’
Anger rose in me. If there was one thing I wasn’t going to do it was to leave him alone like this. This was Danny – my cousin and friend since childhood. He had helped me through the tragic death of my mother and all the traumatic times with Miss Hood at the Ferry so there was no way I was going to abandon him now. Whatever the cause, it had all happened after his grandad’s death but George wasn’t going to tell me so I went over to Kit.
‘I’m worried about Danny,’ I said bluntly. ‘What’s wrong with him?’
Kit tried to look surprised but failed. ‘Oh I don’t think there’s anything the matter with him. He’s just missing his grandad.’
I was adamant. ‘No, Kit, there’s something far wrong and it all started the night we were here – the night of the wake. And another thing, I think the men know about it but they’re keeping it quiet. Dad is dodging me and so is Danny.’
She looked at my white face then said quietly, ‘I’ll speak to Ma about it.’
We looked towards the fire where Ma and Hattie were sitting. Hattie looked uncomfortable but Ma had a queer expression on her face and she was gazing at Danny.
I went over to her but, before I could speak, she held up her hand. ‘Danny has to work things out for himself.’
Hattie looked at her in dismay then at me. The chatter in the room died away and I had a terrible feeling of the calm before a violent storm.
Then Hattie spoke. Not in her normal cultured tone but in a strident voice. ‘Why is everyone harping on about Danny? There’s nothing wrong with him but you’re going on and on about him.’
Everyone looked at her. Her cheeks had twin spots of colour and she was trying to put on her gloves as if she was leaving. She looked over to her son but he stared back. His face was drained of any colour.
Then his face twisted with grief. ‘My father was a murderer, Mum, and you never told me,’ he shouted. ‘A murderer!’
Hattie looked at him in amazement and sat down so hard on the chair that its legs squeaked in protest. In fact, had she been a plumper woman, the chair would have broken.
2
The room went deathly quiet. The only sound came from the fire as the wet coal made little hissing noises – like a nest of snakes, I thought, which was absurd but I couldn’t help but think it.
I stood frozen by the wall, unable to take my eyes away from Danny’s white face. After a second or two which seemed like hours, a noise erupted in the small room. It sounded like a wail. Hattie gave a loud cry and tears streamed down her cheeks. Another absurd thought entered my mind. I had never seen her cry before or even lose her demeanour. Now I was witnessing both.
Ma Ryan put a plump arm around her shoulders which was another first in my eyes while Kit moved over to Danny’s side. His eyes were glassy with unshed tears but his initial defiance had deserted him and he looked drained of all emotion.
Kit said, ‘Danny, what are you saying? Your dad wasn’t a murderer. Who told you that?’
At first, I didn’t think he would answer her. His face had a closed look which I had never seen before.
Kit put her thin arm around him. ‘Who was it, Danny? Tell your Auntie Kit.’
Danny gazed at her for a full minute and I suddenly realised I was holding my breath.
‘It was Mick Malloy.’
Kit glared at her husband who took a step backwards under this icy stare. She led him over to Ma’s side. Her arm still around his shoulders.
‘Tell me what he said.’
Hattie began to protest but Ma held up her hand.
‘No, Hattie, I think we should hear what Danny has to say then maybe we’ll get it sorted out once and for all. I think I know what he’s about to tell us.’
I looked at her in amazement. Surely this wasn’t her famous sixth sense at work.
Danny kept his voice low but he held his head high. ‘Mick Malloy told me that my Dad shot a soldier in his regiment during the war and that he committed suicide afterwards because he was a murderer.’
Hattie was outraged. ‘He did no such thing and I won’t sit here and listen to all these lies!’
Ma Ryan cut her short and she turned to Danny. Her normally impassive face now creased with anxiety. ‘It’s true Danny about your dad shooting one of his mates in his battalion …’
Hattie shouted angrily, ‘That’s not true!’
Ma gave her a puzzled frown. ‘He must have told you about it, Hattie. I mean we all knew.’ She glanced at Kit and her sisters and they nodded sadly. ‘You see, Danny, your dad was made to do a dreadful thing – to shoot this deserter – but it was an order from an officer. Seemingly this young lad ran away from the trenches – not because he was a coward but more likely because he was suffering from shellshock.’ Her voice became harsh with anger. ‘But those officers in charge thought they knew better and they picked out three men for the firing squad and the poor soldier was shot at dawn.’
Danny turned an anguished face to his granny. ‘He could have refused. He didn’t have to do it.’
‘But you see, Danny, your dad didn’t shoot the lad. He told us that the three men aimed away from the soldier but that the officer then shot him with his own revolver. Still, this was small consolation to Pat. He was a good Catholic and, to his mind, this was a crime against an innocent man and, in God’s eyes, he was just as guilty as if he killed the lad himself.’
Hattie cried out, ‘But he was sent home because he lost part of his foot. He told me he’d stepped on a mine.’
Ma looked ill. ‘We didn’t know that this was all you knew, Hattie. Obviously he didn’t want to worry you about the true reason for his discharge.’ She stopped and looked at Kit, as if unsure about going on with the story.
Kit knelt in front of Hattie. ‘He shot himself in the foot with his own rifle because of the soldier’s death. It was preying on his mind. When he came home we all assumed you knew this. Then the years went by and you never mentioned it. Ma always had a strange feeling about you. She was never sure how much you knew but us women …’ She gestured to Belle and Lizzie who looked sheepish. ‘Well, we thought you were ashamed of Pat.’
Ma said, ‘I often got the feeling you didn’t know the whole story, Hattie, but, when you stopped visiting us after the funeral, I wasn’t sure.’
Suddenly everything fell into place. Was this the reason for the Ryan family’s apathy towards Hattie? Did they think she was so ashamed of her own husband and his family and didn’t care enough to come to them for comfort and sympathetic support?
Ma looked tired and Kit continued with the story. ‘One thing is certain Danny – your dad didn’t commit suicide. He was deeply in love with your mum and they both loved you. He was here that last day and he got into company with a few of his mates – Mick Malloy and Martin Murphy to name but two. He didn’t drink much as a rule but he was depressed that day, thinking about the poor lad whose parents would just have been told he had been killed in action. When he left the pub, he came back here and Ma gave him a good talking to – told him to forget the whole sorry incident, if only for the sake of his wife and baby. He promised he would.’
She glanced at her mother and Ma nodded sadly. ‘If he had intended taking his own life Danny then I would have felt it in my bones and, although I’m not saying I wasn’t deeply worried about him, I know he didn’t plan on killing himself.’ She looked at Danny’s white face. ‘It was a tragic accident son. His foot was really very sore that day and he was limping badly.’ She was near to tears as she relived that terrible time. ‘We think he stumbled as he crossed the road on his way home and he fell in front of the tramcar.’
Kit took Hattie’s hand while Belle and Lizzie stood beside her. It was a tight protective circle and I wondered if Danny’s father had made the right decision in not telling his wife – all these years and she could have had this warm support.
When Kit spoke she sounded angry.
‘I’m just so sorry that it’s all come out now because of that stupid man, Mick Malloy. It should have remained in the past where it belonged.’
Deep sobs shook Hattie’s slim body and Danny moved quickly over to her. I also went over and it was as if my body was being worked by strings as I still felt no emotion in the face of all this drama. Still, I knew it would hit me soon.
Then George appeared at Hattie’s side and he gave her a hug. For such a large man he was extremely gentle and, because he wasn’t used to speaking a lot, he was a bit hesitant. ‘We all thought Pat had told you, Hattie, but, as Ma says, he maybe wanted to spare you all the terrible details. Believe me, it’s been a heavy burden all these years. Kit and I often thought of mentioning it but Ma said it would all come out in good time – when you were ready.’
Ma nodded wearily. ‘That’s right. After Pat died I knew it was a terrible accident and that it was God’s will but he was really looking much better on that last day. I just knew that, after my telling him off, he planned to forget it and get on with his life with his wife and wee laddie.’ Her face became bitter. ‘The folk I hold responsible for this tragedy are the head bummers – the generals and officers who should never have been allowed to put soldiers in that position and as for shooting a young laddie for seemingly deserting his post … well, it’s plain and simple murder.’
George said, ‘But they were the murderers, Danny, Hattie – not your dad.’
During all these revelations of happenings in the far-distant past, I had remained numb and speechless with the horror of it all. Had my own father seen these atrocities or worse still, had he been put in the same situation? One thing was sure – too much had been covered up. Was it better to know at the time or was it worse if it came out later, courtesy of people like Mick Malloy?
George turned to me. ‘Get the coats, Ann. Kit and I will take you all home.’
Hattie was devastated. Her dark shadowed eyes contrasted with her pale face and she looked as if she had aged a good ten years.
I took Danny’s hand. ‘Come on, it’s time to go home.’
To be honest, I can’t remember much about the homeward journey except for the silence. On the tramcar, I sat with Danny while Kit held on to Hattie’s hand. George was in the rear – a solid stalwart. As the tramcar drew near our stop, Hattie suddenly didn’t want to go to her own house. ‘We’ll go to the Overgate,’ she said to Danny, her eyes still brimming with tears.
A few of the passengers recognised Kit and George but, if they were curious, they kept silent – no doubt thinking that this quiet grief was a leftover from Dad Ryan’s funeral.
Granny’s eyes were like saucers when we all walked in. Even Lily stopped looking at her book and they both gazed at us with puzzled frowns, Lily obviously imitating her granny. There was no sign of Grandad and I assumed he had gone out for his tobacco.
Hattie immediately ran towards her mother, crying loudly. Meanwhile, Danny remained between Kit and George and he stood there, white faced with shock.
‘For goodness’ sake, Hattie, what’s the matter?’ Granny was worried because her voice was sharper than normal – a sure sign she was out of her depth. ‘What’s the matter?’ she repeated, looking at Kit and George.
George said, ‘They’ve had a bit of a shock, Nan. I think we could do with a cup of sweet tea.’
Granny still didn’t move so I went over to the sink and filled the kettle. To be honest I was glad to be busy – grateful for anything that would keep my mind away from Danny’s ravaged face. I wanted so much to help him like he had helped me over the years – to be a strong and staunch ally to him – but I was ashamed to admit that I didn’t know what to do or say. I felt so helpless.
Then I noticed that Lily was still gazing wide-eyed at this dramatic scene and I suddenly realised I didn’t want her to hear this terrible story. I went over and picked up her book.
‘Let’s go through to Alice’s house where you can look at your book in peace.’
She trustingly took my hand and gave me a toothy smile. My heart jumped with emotion as I left her with the next-door neighbour. It would now seem that Danny and I both had our own tragedies. My mum dying a few hours after Lily’s birth and now Danny’s father with his wartime horrors.
Thankfully, by the time I returned, George had told Granny the whole story. She looked stunned and the room was silent.
Someone had placed a crochet blanket around Hattie’s shoulders but she was still shivering and her hands trembled in her lap.
‘I can’t believe this,’ said Granny. She looked at Kit who nodded tearfully. ‘You’re telling me that Hattie and Danny knew nothing about this?’
George looked unhappy. ‘I don’t think more than a handful of folk know about it, Nan. In fact if Pat hadn’t confided that day to me and Mick Malloy, then nobody would have known a thing about it.’ His voice trembled as if he was on the verge of tears. ‘I advised him to tell Ma. You see I thought Hattie had been put in the picture. Well, he told Ma the whole story and Kit and her sisters were in the house that day and everyone was so distressed and unable to take it in. Ma told him firmly to forget the terrible incident for the sake of himself and his family.’ He looked firmly at Hattie and Danny. ‘One thing is clear – he was coming home with the intention of putting the past behind him and that I do know. Then there was this awful accident.’
Kit spoke softly, ‘We are all sorry for the way we’ve treated you, Hattie, but we thought you were so ashamed of Pat that you couldn’t bear to even see his family. We almost mentioned it at Pat’s funeral but Ma wasn’t sure if it was the right time. In fact, she’s had this feeling for years and she said the story had to come from you but, as the years went by, we became more disappointed that you shut us out of your life – almost as if we reminded you too much of Pat and maybe you wanted to forget the entire Ryan family.’
Fresh tears ran down Hattie’s cheeks. ‘We’ve been at cross purposes all these years, Kit. Of course I didn’t shut you out but I felt so alienated at the funeral that I thought the same thing – now that Pat was dead, you didn’t want to know me.’
Granny refilled our cups and said, ‘It looks like you were all wrapped up in separate worlds of grief and distress at that time and all these misunderstandings arose.’
I left the four of them huddled together at the fireside and I went and sat beside Danny. He had been almost silent since we arrived at the house and I was worried about his chalky-white face. His eyes were dull with grief and pain and it seemed as if only his hair retained any life and vibrant vitality. I had never seen him like this before – it was almost as if he were dead but still breathing.
‘I think the truth should aye come out at the beginning or else remain forever buried, Danny.’ I tried not to sound bitter about the Malloy revelations.
He remained silent. His head bent.
‘I’ve had Maddie in the shop, Danny,’ I said quietly, not wanting anyone to hear me. ‘You’ve got to see her and explain everything. She’s heartbroken – especially when she doesn’t have a clue what the matter is.’
He stayed silent and didn’t look at me.
‘Look, Danny, write her a note and arrange to meet her on Sunday.’ I felt I was hitting my head against a brick wall. ‘If you give me the note, I’ll deliver it.’
He shook his head.
I was getting annoyed with him but I didn’t want to show it. I didn’t want to raise my voice and let the others hear my pleas.
Then suddenly the door flew open and Bella breezed in. Putting on her ‘coffin face’ as Granny called it. She noticed Kit and George but sat down beside Danny, breathing noisily. ‘Those stairs get steeper every time I climb them.’ She looked around for sympathy but it wasn’t forthcoming.
She looked at Danny. ‘I’m really sorry to hear about your grandad but he was getting on and we don’t live forever.’ We were all shocked. This was typical sympathy from Bella. The Neill family had been used to it all our lives but it was the l
ast straw for Danny.
He leapt to his feet. ‘Thanks for the sympathy, Bella, but Ann and I are just leaving.’
We left her gasping with indignation and I could well imagine her outraged comments about the manners of the younger generation. She glared at me as Danny went over to say goodbye to the group at the fire. Still, I was in no mood to worry about her feelings.
As we walked along the still-busy street, I tackled him again. ‘You’ll have to see Maddie and explain things to her.’
He turned an anguished face to me and we stopped. ‘How can I, Ann? What will she think of my dad, tell me that? What about her parents? Do you honestly think they’ll want me for a son-in-law when they hear this?’
I was shocked by his intensity. And his uncharacteristic stupidity. ‘Of course they will, Danny, and so will Maddie. She loves you and she won’t give a toss for what happened all those years ago. I mean she’ll be upset and sad for you. Nobody wants you to forget your dad but it was all so long ago. Maddie wants you and not some old memory – no matter how tragic it was.’
He shook his head. ‘No, I can’t tell Maddie or her parents. She’ll soon find someone else and forget about me.’
I knew then that his mind was made up. He had a stubborn streak and there was nothing I could do – at least not on this cold snowy afternoon. Suddenly I felt so weary. This sad incident had happened so long ago but, like some sin, it was still casting a long shadow. Blast that idiot Mick Malloy, I thought.
We finally reached the imposing entrance to Lipton’s shop and he said goodbye.
I gave it one last shot. ‘Danny, before you go, will you promise me that you’ll see Maddie on Sunday? You owe her that much and, whatever you choose to tell her, at least it’ll be to her face.’
He didn’t answer and I spoke louder. ‘Danny?’
Although he looked unhappy about it, he nodded.
‘Promise me?’
He nodded again then darted into the shop like a scalded cat.
Towards a Dark Horizon Page 4
