‘’Tis a little early in the day for the hard stuff, Blossom, even for a celebration. I’d not say no to a cup o’ tea, though.’
She squinted at him as she clambered over a child to spoon the tea into the pot. ‘Celebration is it? I’m glad somebody’s got a reason to curl their mouth corners.’
He tousled a small head, found a stool and pulled it up beside her chair, waiting with a smile while she poured boiling water into the teapot. ‘Here, come sit down now an’ let me tell yese.’
She did so, waiting patiently while he sat with a big smile on his face. ‘Well? Are ye going to sit there lookin’ like ye’ve swallowed a sickle?’
He chuckled and pulled his earlobe. ‘God, now I’m here I don’t know how to say it.’ Another brief pause, then: ‘The long an’ the short of it is, Molly, that me an’ Tommy we’ve come into money.’
‘Oh, that’s nice for yese, Pat.’ She smiled fondly, then reached for the teapot, swilling its contents before pouring. ‘A win on the horses, was it? How much?’
‘Oh … a few hundred I expect when it’s all …’
‘Hundred? Hundred!’ She’d spilt the tea, her slitty eyes wider than he’d ever seen them.
He laughed loudly. ‘Aye, my love! An’ the first thing I’m going to do is see my old pal Molly gets her fair share.’
‘Oh, I don’t want none!’ she said hurriedly and used her sleeve to mop up the spills. ‘Oh, no … no.’
‘Begod, whyever not?’
‘I never had no money … I wouldn’t know what to do with it.’ She put the cup to her lips, hiding behind it.
‘Hey, I wasn’t thinking to give ye the whole lot, ye know,’ he joked. ‘I’m talking coppers.’ Then he cuffed her. ‘Ye soft old biddy! Wouldn’t know what to do with it. Ye spend it! Get yourself a nice bit o’ furniture, some fancy clothes, things ye’ve never had. Soon as we get sorted out I’ll be round with a sackful o’ sovs.’
‘Oh no, I couldn’t take it!’
‘Have I come to the wrong bloody house?’ he asked himself, then grabbed her hand. ‘Aw, Molly ye’ve had a terrible time of it lately what with your losses. I couldn’t help ye more at the time but I can now. Please let me.’
‘God,’ she breathed, shaking her head and gazing at him. ‘My Pat a rich man. To be sure the sky’ll turn green.’
‘Isn’t it raining peas out there.’ He gave a laugh. ‘Don’t worry – I had trouble taking it in myself. I still find it hard to believe.’
‘Well … where’s this money come from?’ she asked weakly.
He told her of Thomasin’s inheritance and of the house in Monkgate. ‘Actually, with the house and the business it’ll amount to a bit more than a few hundred. So ye see, we’ll be moving out o’ the old place … going over there. Tommy thought we should rent our old house, thought maybe you might like first refusal – we’d not expect the full rent o’ course, a shilling a week Tommy suggested. Sure, I’d give it to ye if I could, you know that but …’ He inwardly berated Thomasin for causing him such embarrassment. Renting a house to an old friend indeed! It sounded terrible after saying they’d come into a fortune. But then Tommy was right. If he had charge of the inheritance there’d be nothing to leave their children.
‘Ah, ’tis a kind thought, Pat,’ tendered Molly. ‘But I have to say no. I couldn’t deprive yese of the rent ye could be getting.’
Guilt made him look for sarcasm in that remark but he found none. Molly seemed genuinely pleased for his good fortune. ‘But why?’ he pressed her. ‘Ye’d be much more comfortable there, more room … is it that ye think we’re being tight-fisted asking for rent?’
‘God, no! How could I ever call ye tight-fisted when ye’ve just told me you’re bringing me a sackful o’ sovs.’ She clutched his hand. ‘I wouldn’t dream of expecting it rent-free, ye have to think o’ the future … ’tis just that I don’t think I’d feel right round there, ye know. I’m not sure I’d want Nelly Peabody for a neighbour, nor her me come to that.’
‘Ye’d be away from Raper,’ he tempted.
‘An’ who would I have to slaver at? No … no. ’Tis best I stay put.’
He gave a sigh. ‘Ah well, if ye won’t, ye won’t, I can’t force ye. But ye will accept the money won’t ye?’
‘Sure, have y’ever really known me turn down money?’ she asked.
‘An’ you’re to spend it on something sensible, not go buyin’ crateloads o’ this stuff.’ He pointed at the cup from which she had been drinking when he had come in. ‘Ye could get a little place somewhere else, away from here.’
‘We’ll see, we’ll see,’ nodded Molly. ‘Now, less o’ what I’m going to do, and tell me more about this inheritance o’ yours.’ She continued to press him for details for at least an hour, until one of her grandchildren poked his fingers through the bars on the grate and had to be hastily attended to.
‘Well, I’d best leave ye to tend to the wounded, Molly me love.’ Patrick raised his voice over the screams of pain and rose to shove the stool under the table.
‘Right, darlin’ – holy Saint Anthony will ye stop that bawlin’, boy!’ she told the child, trying to smear butter on his throbbing fingers. ‘An’ ye’ll not desert us now? Ye’ll come an’ see us from time to time.’
‘Sure, we’ve not gone yet,’ he laughed. ‘Can’t ye wait to see the back of us? It’ll be a few weeks before we move I expect. I’ll be round to see ye before then. Clear all them moths out o’ your purse to make way for the dibs.’
‘Ah, God love ye!’ Molly slung the screeching child around her hip and came up to grab Patrick’s arm, eyes threatening tears. ‘I’m that glad for ye. It couldn’t fall to a nicer man than my Pat. Tell Tommy I think ’tis great. God, I feel like I’ve swallowed a bagful o’ frogs I’m so excited. I still can’t believe it.’
‘Nor can I.’ He kissed her. ‘Take care, Molly – oh, Christ! Here’s the eejit forgetting the reason he came round.’ He took the sovereigns from his pocket and pressed them into her hand. ‘That’s to tide ye over till I see ye again.’
‘Oh, good. For a moment I thought that’s all I was getting.’ She laughed as he scolded her. ‘Ah, thank ye, darlin’. I’ll light a candle for ye. Goodbye!’
As the door closed Molly looked down at the gleaming coins on her palm and smiled broadly for the first time in a week. ‘Well now, isn’t that grand?’ she said to a grubbycheeked infant – grubby-cheeked both ends for he wore nothing but a little shift. ‘My Patrick …’ And then she gathered them all together and warned them to stay put whilst she went out for ‘just a second’, and bearing a jug scampered across the yard in the direction of the nearest pub.
* * *
The boys had tried to wriggle out of it but Patrick had been adamant: they must go to Confession. Strolling through the town centre with a warm breeze ruffling their hair Sonny asked his brother if he was going to tell Father Kelly about Bertha and Beth.
‘An’ why not indeed?’ answered Dickie lighdy. ‘It’ll put a little sparkle in his life. I don’t suppose he’ll even know what I’m talkin’ about. I can’t visualise him going with a woman, can you? Still, there’s his housekeeper …’
Sonny sprang to Father Kelly’s defence. ‘I suppose ye know that’s blasphemy? Priests aren’t even allowed to think of things like that They’re above it all.’ Liam KeUy was one of the few people outside his family whom Sonny respected.
‘Who’re ye tryin’ to cod?’ his brother asked cynically. ‘I’ll bet they’re as bad as the rest of us. Sure, how can any man go without a woman? I could never manage more than a few days without. ’Course,’ he could not resist a taunt, ‘it wouldn’t bother you, seeing as you’ve never had it’
Sonny stooped suddenly, pretending to tie his bootlace – anything to stop his hands from closing round his brother’s throat.
‘Ye see, you’re not tryin’ hard enough,’ Dickie was saying.
Sonny straightened and proceeded on his way. ‘What’re you on about now?�
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‘Dipping your wick. You’re not goin’ about it the right way at all. ’Tis no good waiting for it to come to you, ye’ve got to play it clever.’
‘Like you did with Violet, ye mean?’ came the sarcastic reply.
‘What’s that mean?’ demanded his brother.
Sonny tapped his nose, a mannerism picked up from his father. ‘Your cleverness didn’t get ye very far with her, did it? Chucked ye out on your backside, I heard. A bit different from the way you told it.’
If this was an attempt at retaliation it did not have the desired effect. Dickie burst into uproarious laughter. ‘Oh, Son – did I get an earful from her! An’ a couple o’ good rattles round the head for luck. Jaze, she was like a woman gone mad!’ He shook his head and laid an arm across Sonny’s shoulders. ‘An’ d’ye know the funniest thing was, after Hawksby gave me the push an’ slung me all that humbug about turning his store into a house of ill-repute, I find out he’s been after tupping her himself, the twofaced old ked.’ Sonny involuntarily joined his laughter as Dickie added, ‘Anyways, I’m stayin’ away from the mature ladies for a while; they can’t be trusted. God, if ever I thought there was one ripe for pickin’ it was Violet, but there y’are. See now, ye’ve diverted me from my topic, which was: how do we go about making a man of you?’
Sonny shook him off and straightened his collar. ‘Don’t you concern yourself about me. I’m not bothered about women.’
‘’Course y’are! You’re a male aren’t ye? Look over there.’ Dickie stopped and pointed to two young girls who hid giggling faces behind their hands and whispered to each other. ‘I think it’s the carrot-planting season.’
‘Ye can’t just go up to people in the street an’ ask ’em for it!’ hissed Sonny.
‘Sure, do I look that indelicate? Ye’ve got to give ’em the old sweetener first, boy. Stay by me, ye’ll learn something.’
‘But we have to go to Confession,’ Sonny reminded him.
Dickie halted in his tracks. ‘Christ, the boy’s a saint!
Ye’re not going to tell me ye’d rather go to Confession than get your little bit of cotton in, are ye? Leave it till later, then ye’ll have something worthwhile to tell him.’
Sonny bit his lip, torn between the two. ‘Me mam’ll kill us if Father Kelly says we haven’t been.’
‘She’s not bothered about that stuff. It’s me dad who’s the Bible-champer. I can always get round him. Come on, Son.’
‘I don’t think we’d better.’
‘Huh! Weeks he’s been pesterin’ me to tell him what it’s like an’ when his chance has come to find out he’s got cold feet.’
‘I have not! Anyroad, how d’ye know they’ll be game? They don’t look the type to me, too prim.’
‘Never believe it, Son. They’re usually the worst kind – or the best, depending on which way ye look at it. Personally I don’t waste much time looking.’ He gave an exaggerated leer, hoping to humour his brother into agreement.
Sonny was not convinced. ‘I’m not so sure – anyway they’re off, look.’ He nodded towards the girls who, tired of waiting, had started to move away.
‘It’s a game – they want us to follow. Away, Son.’ He lolloped after them, dragging his brother with him.
Sonny struggled free. ‘I’m off to church.’
‘Oh, do as you will,’ said Dickie testily. ‘Listen, do us a favour, will ye?’
‘Another one?’
‘Ah, come on now, ye know ye’d do anything for your brother. Will ye confess my sins for me?’
‘Will I what!’ spat Sonny. ‘You’re not serious?’
‘Look, if you confess in my place ’tis not so bad as me not goin’, if ye see what I mean. ’Tis like I’ll be there but speakin’ through you. D’ye take?’
‘Oh, I take all right! Ye want me to take the blame for all your filthy goings-on.’
‘No honest, I wouldn’t expect ye to pay the penance …’
‘Oh, thanks.’
‘… just tell me what he gives ye an’ I’ll carry it out gladly.’
‘That’s very noble of yer,’ replied Sonny bitterly. ‘Has it occurred to ye how Father Kelly will think it’s really me who’s the lecher?’
‘He’s going to think that anyway, isn’t he? Well – aren’t ye goin’ to confess ye’ve been in the company of a naked female?’
‘That doesn’t count! I never actually …’
‘Tut! Of all the little hypocrites.’ Dickie shook his head in disapproval. ‘Pretending to be a saint, going to Confession an’ all the time he’s keepin’ the best bits back.’ Sonny was deep in thought now. This point had been troubling him since it had happened. Dickie mentioning it had brought it back to prominence.
‘So, ye may as well do my sins while you’re at it,’ Dickie told him. ‘Save the both of us getting a trouncing.’
Sonny was only half-listening. ‘Sling yer hook.’ God, this was going to be terrible. He was blushing even at the thought.
‘I’ll give ye a shilling.’
‘What?’ asked Sonny absently, then as Dickie repeated his offer, ‘You haven’t got a shilling.’
‘Me mam has,’ said Dickie. ‘Oh, come on, Son! Look, if ye like I’ll do the same for you next week.’
‘Dickie, yer missin’ the whole point o’ Confession. How can yer cleanse yer soul if ye don’t do it in person?’
‘You’re my brother, aren’t ye?’ argued Dickie in desperation. ‘Me own flesh an’ blood, part of me. When you speak it’ll be like I’m speakin’, only through your lips.’
‘You are bloody incredible!’ Sonny turned and stormed away. After a few steps he turned to see if his brother was following, but Dickie, with a girl on each arm, was walking in the other direction. ‘There’ll be trouble when me dad finds out!’ he yelled after his brother.
‘He won’t find out unless you tell him!’ retorted Dickie. ‘An’ saints don’t tell on their brothers.’
For a few maddening seconds Sonny considered surrendering to the feet that itched to cany him after the trio.
But then he swore, spun round and marched off to church, rehearsing the dreadful speech that he would soon be forced to make.
* * *
Father Kelly was ensconced in the confessional, yawning as the sinner behind the grill mouthed a boring soliloquy. ‘Go on, my son,’ he murmured absently and took a sip from his tea cup which had been laced with a drop of Irish – I’m getting too old for this, he told himself. One day ’tis bound to get me. I’ll either die of boredom, or shock from the sordid confessions some of my less-respectful parishioners serve up.
He tried to turn over the pages of his newspaper without rustling them as the sinner droned on. Where were those dratted racing results? Ah, that was more like it. He settled back to discover whether or not Rafferty’s tip had been well-advised. The sinner fell silent and Liam dealt out a stiff penalty for imposing so much boredom. The curtain wafted as the sinner left. Liam hoped that the next transgressor would have something more entertaining to say.
The distinct dialect percolated the grille and Father Kelly, lifting the curtain a fraction, detected the flash of auburn that bespoke the sinner’s identity.
‘Bless me, Father for I have sinned …’ Sonny reeled off the words in an automatic monotone, divesting them of any sincerity as he approached the moment of confession. Liam put down his newspaper and leaned his ear close to the grille, waiting for Sonny to provide him with the material for a good laugh. The last time, he had admitted to seeing his sister’s navel. He knew that his colleagues would thoroughly disapprove of his amusement, but sure, the boy was only thirteen, still a child, what did he really know about sinning? Liam couldn’t abide those who filled an innocent head with the fear of eternal damnation; there was time enough for that when they got down to some really bad stuff. ‘I’m waiting, my son.’
Sonny considered it prudent to confess the lesser sins before touching on his more serious crimes. ‘Father, I found th
reepence in the street an’ didn’t tell anybody. I spent it all on meself.’
‘Then ye’ve doubly sinned,’ reproved Liam. ‘By not trying to discover to whom the money belonged you acted dishonestly, an’ by spending it all on yourself were guilty of total selfishness.’
‘Yes, Father. Sorry, Father.’
‘’Tis not to me ye owe your apologies, my son. Is there anything else?’
Sonny gulped. ‘Father, I …’ – oh, dear God. ‘I committed a terrible sin … with a girl.’
Liam’s green eyes twinkled in the kind, leathery face. ‘Would ye like to enlarge on that?’
There was another pause, then: ‘I saw her naked.’
A short delay from Liam, then: ‘Might it have been by accident that ye saw her?’
‘In a way … that is, I tried to shut my eyes … but they kept opening.’
‘What I mean is, what were the circumstances of her being in this state?’
‘Well … it wasn’t just her that was naked, Father … I was too.’
The spark of amusement fizzled out. ‘You’re not telling me that …’
‘No, no, Father! I was just sort of there … where she was … with no clothes … by the lake.’
‘I think you’d better confess all,’ demanded Liam, the paternal tone gone.
Sonny had never felt so ashamed. He confessed the whole sordid adventure, face on fire. At the end of it there was a prolonged silence.
Then Liam, cheek cupped in palm, said leniently, ‘Well, if ye did nothing more than look at her … perhaps ’tis not too heinous.’
Sonny bit his lip. God could see into his head. He would have to tell. ‘No … but the thing is, Father … I wanted to.’
Liam closed his eyes as though weary. An overwhelming sadness came over him, not for the confession as such, but for the passing of a childhood. He might have expected it from the other one, but not from Sonny.
The boy’s fingers curled tightly around the edge of his seat, waiting for Absolution. Before it was granted, Liam asked, ‘Was there anyone else involved in all this?’ He was sure the boy had been led.
For My Brother’s Sins Page 13
