For My Brother’s Sins

by For My Brother's Sins (retail) (epub)

‘What about the paintings at the store?’

  ‘Hardly sufficient for an exhibition,’ he said lifelessly. ‘There’s only a dozen or so.’

  ‘Nonsense! People’ll only have to see one painting to know how talented you are – and you can have the one you gave me. I brought it with me.’

  He was unconvinced. ‘Oh … I don’t think I’ll bother about the exhibition now, Josie. I haven’t really got the heart. In fact I doubt I’ll ever have the heart to paint again.’

  ‘Now enough o’ that rubbish!’ she chastised sternly. ‘I’m not going to allow all that talent to go to waste ’cause o’ one upset. I’ll stand behind you with a whip if I have to.’ She saw the sad smile. ‘I mean it! I won’t let go, John.’ John, she had called him John. ‘This exhibition was to be the most important event in your life an’ I’m going to see it happens.’

  ‘Oh, you’re a nice girl, Josie,’ he said in earnest. ‘I don’t deserve such support after being so bloody stupid.’

  ‘Then you’ll go ahead with it?’ she persisted.

  He nodded rather reluctantly. ‘If you’re behind me I think I can do it.’

  ‘Oh!’ She collapsed in relief. ‘Well, that’s a load off my mind. I’d never’ve forgiven myself if I’d been responsible for ruining your career.’

  There was a period of silence. She chose that moment to offer the hospitality she had overlooked in her shock at seeing him. ‘Would you care for some tea?’ He smiled and said he would and settled back into the sofa to survey the homely room.

  He stayed throughout the afternoon, just talking, getting rid of his pain and his anger. When the time came for him to go he felt a great deal better. Her words had gone a long way to restoring his confidence in himself. He stood ready to take his leave. ‘Well … I’d better go home and tell Mam and Dad what’s happened.’

  ‘You’ll give the master and mistress my apologies for leaving them in the lurch?’ asked Josie.

  ‘I will, but there’s no need. I feel I should apologise to you for the way I let Peggy treat you.’

  ‘Oh, that doesn’t matter … but if you would thank the master an’ mistress for being so decent.’

  ‘Mother’ll probably want you to come back, you know.’

  ‘I’m sorry but it just wouldn’t work.’

  ‘I agree,’ he said. ‘And anyway I don’t want you to come back.’ At her look of hurt surprise he smiled and tapped her shoulder gently. ‘When I see you again I’d rather it be here where Peggy can’t hurt us.’

  Us. Her lips parted. ‘You want to see me again?’

  ‘Well, didn’t you mention something about standing behind me with a whip? You can hardly do that if we don’t see each other can you?’ He smiled. ‘Oh, Josie, you’ve been so good … and listen! You’ll have to come to my exhibition too. I’ll send a carriage for you.’

  ‘What about Miss Peggy?’ she asked doubtfully.

  His sombre mood returned. ‘It’s all over between us, Josie. Anyway, she’s not likely to be at the exhibition, is she?’ He saw her again at the bonfire. The sting of his wound was still fresh, but it was futile to be angry any more. ‘No, I want you there, Josie.’

  ‘I’d love to come, John.’ She smiled her affection. ‘An’ I know it’ll be a great success.’

  ‘Yes,’ he pondered thoughtfully. ‘Suddenly, I think you’re right.’ He smiled again and turned to the door, opening it.

  Before saying goodbye she voiced her feelings on leaving his children. ‘Oh, dear – I am going to miss them.’ ‘There’s no need. I’ll bring them to see you.’

  ‘Oh, would you? I’d love to have them.’

  ‘Tell you what,’ he gestured at the pouring rain, ‘if this lot has stopped by tomorrow I think we should take a picnic, all four of us.’ What the hell had made him say that, he didn’t know; his world had fallen around him and here he was suggesting picnics! But it would take his mind off things, and maybe he might just buy a few tubes of paint on the way home …

  Josie was overwhelmed; all she could answer was, ‘That’d be nice.’

  ‘I’ll call for you at three, all right?’

  ‘Shall I not expect you if it’s still raining?’ she asked apprehensively.

  He smiled. ‘As long as you don’t see old Freddie Gash you can expect me,’ he promised.

  ‘Who’s Freddie Gash?’

  ‘Never mind. Just expect me.’ Suddenly he kissed her, then dashed off into the pouring rain.

  * * *

  No one had ever seen Thomasin so angry as when Sonny had told her of his tragedy.

  ‘May God forgive me for saying this, Sonny, but say it I will: if you’d listened to me none of this would have happened! That evil bitch! How could she? Wait till I get my hands on her.’

  Her son had physically to restrain her from leaving the room. ‘Whatever you’re going to do to her, Mam, it won’t make one scrap of difference. Can’t you see she’s ill? Sick in the head.’

  ‘She will be when I’ve finished with her!’ roared Thomasin, trying to free herself. ‘Sick you say? She isn’t the only one. You must be sick in the head to let her get away with this. She’s not sick, she’s evil – evil!’

  ‘Look – if I can accept it philosophically, why can’t you? They were my pictures she destroyed, yet I’m not ranting and raving, crying for revenge.’

  ‘No, you aren’t and I can’t for the life of me understand it,’ replied his mother hotly. ‘If it were my exhibition she’d burnt I’d be after chucking her on the bloody bonfire.’

  ‘D’you think I haven’t contemplated that^5^’ sighed Sonny. ‘God, when I saw what was left… but gnashing my teeth and tearing my hair won’t bring them back, will it? So I’ll just have to buckle down and start again.’ As easily as that – he could almost smile about it, but really it was no joke.

  Patrick had been as shocked as his wife at the news, for despite his former reservations he had come to recognise Sonny’s talent and had been immensely proud of the coming exhibition. However, he gravitated towards clemency. ‘Much as I want to throttle her meself,’ he told his wife, ‘I’m inclined to agree with Sonny; she is sick. She has to be to do a thing like this. We can’t just chuck her out on the street, we must show some sort of responsibility.’

  ‘I would’ve thought that fell to her own family,’ replied Thomasin stiffly.

  ‘Oh aye, I can just see Clancy welcoming her back,’ said Patrick.

  ‘So what are we supposed to do with her?’ demanded Thomasin. ‘All right, Sonny you can let me go now, I promise I won’t throw another bobbery.’ Her son slackened his grip on her arms and smoothed out the wrinkles his fingers had made in the silk. ‘And to cap it all!’ went on Thomasin, ‘she has to sack Josie. The cheek of it! She’s been dying to do it all along. Well, that’s something I can at least remedy. I’m going to fetch that girl back.’

  ‘I’m afraid she won’t come, Mam,’ Sonny told her and passed on Josie’s message.

  ‘Oh, so you went after her?’ she said with interest.

  ‘Well, I thought one of us had better offer apologies for Peggy’s treatment of her. And while we’re on that subject I’d like to say I’m sorry to both of you. I’ve said some bloody disgusting things, especially to you, Mam …’

  She silenced him. ‘God knows we all do and say some stupid things when we’re in a passion.’ Patrick silently agreed with his eyes.

  Sonny nodded his thanks as his mother said despairingly, ‘Well … now that the passion’s over, it looks as though we’re stuck with her – for the time being anyway.’

  After prolonged discussion it was decided that the best thing to do about Peggy was to have her examined by a doctor and for each member of the family to watch her carefully in case she should turn her wrath on the children.

  Despite her tantrum when the doctor came, he was unwilling to certify her, saying that in his opinion she was as sane as he was but was just susceptible to bouts of hysteria, rather like a spoilt child. For this conditi
on he prescribed a sedative, leaving the bottle in Thomasin’s keeping.

  However, it was not found necessary to use this after a week or two. Peggy’s mood changed course and if anything she became rather introverted, keeping herself very much to herself and upsetting no one – so the bottle was forgotten, to gather dust on the medicine cabinet shelf.

  As far as the exhibition was concerned things were not nearly so bad as they might have been, for at Lewis’ insistence and with the support of Josie and his parents Sonny went ahead with the display. Not only did he sell every picture, but received enough commissions to provide him with two years’ work, which he would carry out at the studio that Thomasin had obtained as consolation for his loss and also to avoid the risk of a recurrence. At last his star was beginning to shine.

  Thinking Peggy was her only worry Thomasin was lulled into a false calm by the uneventifulness from this quarter. It was Friday morning. She had been almost ready to go and inspect the modernisation work that was to result in her second-floor department when her stepdaughter turned up carrying a large bag.

  ‘Erin, what pleasure to see you! But so early.’ She laid aside the hat that she had been about to put on and hugged the visitor. ‘Where’s Sam? You look as though you’ve come for a couple of days.’ She pointed at the bag.

  Erin pressed her cheek against her mother’s in greeting, then moved away. ‘I’m on my own. I thought I might take a few days’ holiday.’ She tugged at her gloves then removed the felt and feather hat from her black hair.

  Thomasin at once sensed the tautness behind the remark. ‘Has there been trouble between you two?’ She moved to the sofa, sat down and patted it.

  Erin, never one to hide her emotions, let her face crumple. ‘Oh, Mam!’ She flung herself into Thomasin’s arms and sobbed heartrendingly. ‘We had a terrible row last night. I couldn’t stand it any more. I want to come home – for good.’

  Thomasin fought her dismay. ‘That’s a bit drastic, isn’t it? Anyhow, I always thought Sam was so placid. What made him lose his temper?’

  ‘He’s a different person lately,’ Erin sniffed. ‘Everything’s gone wrong.’

  ‘Oh, not everything, surely?’ soothed Thomasin. ‘Come on, tell me what’s amiss.’

  Erin went crimson and pulled away. ‘I can’t. It’s too personal.’

  ‘Even to your mother?’ encouraged Thomasin. Then her wits sharpened. ‘Erin, you don’t mean to tell me that you two still haven’t bedded together?’

  Erin sat bolt upright. ‘How do you know about that? It was Sam, wasn’t it? It must’ve been. Oh, how awful! I’ll bet he’s told everbody how stupid I am.’ She burst into fresh tears.

  ‘No, no,’ Thomasin consoled her. ‘Only me and your father know about it.’

  ‘Father knows as well? Oh, how embarrassing!’

  ‘Sam was forced to tell him when the question arose about who would foster Rosanna. He was afraid if you got her you wouldn’t want his child. But, love – surely it’s not still the same way between you two! I mean, we thought that was sorted out by now. You seemed to look a bit more settled with each other after Sam finished at the butchery and spent more time at home.’

  Erin shook her head woefully. ‘We made an agreement: we’d live together as friends and sleep in separate rooms. If I seemed happier then it was only because that pressure was off me. But Sam decided that he didn’t want to live as friends any more. He thought after I’d had a rest I’d be willing to try again. I was … but it was still the same. I’m afraid he’s finally got sick of my stupidity. That’s why I’m here. He’s told me that if I won’t be a proper wife I must go and live somewhere else. He doesn’t want me now.’

  ‘I’m sure that’s not true. But the question is, do you want him?’

  Erin lifted a red-mottled face. ‘Yes. That’s the most confusing part of it all. I do love him and want him … but I can’t, I just can’t…’

  ‘D’you remember Jos Leach?’ asked Thomasin suddenly.

  There was no reaction, only a frown. ‘No, who’s he?’

  ‘Doesn’t matter, only a thought. Look … I know it’s a bit delicate for you to talk about and I’m not asking for details, but just what is it that makes you afraid? I mean, you said you knew what was expected of you. You told me not to bother when I tried to give you fair warning before your wedding night. It wasn’t just because you were too embarrassed to listen, was it?’

  ‘No, no, I did know really. But knowing doesn’t make things any easier, does it?’

  Thomasin sighed. ‘I can’t say as I’ve ever had that problem, it just sort of came naturally to me. Eh dear, I don’t know how I’m going to help you.’

  ‘Could I stay here awhile? Not for good, just for a few days if you’ll have me.’

  ‘Daft ’aporth, of course we’ll have you – but that won’t solve anything, will it, love? Some time or other it’s got to be faced or you’ll have a long, lonely time ahead of you. And I don’t think you want that do you?’

  ‘No, I love him as much as ever … but I’m so frightened, Mam.’ Erin leaned her head on her stepmother’s shoulder.

  ‘Then you’ll have to make up your mind which frightens you most,’ said Thomasin firmly. ‘Being a proper wife – or losing him altogether.’

  * * *

  Patrick found it hard to reconcile himself to Erin’s defection. ‘A woman’s place is with her husband,’ he informed her. ‘All the argument you put up in favour of Sam an’ now ye go leave him in the lurch.’ He looked at his wife. ‘If we appear to condone her behaviour, let her hide behind her parents then we’re as much to blame as she is if the marriage fails.’

  ‘Daddy, please don’t send me away,’ begged Erin.

  ‘I’m not about to send ye anywhere,’ replied Patrick calmly. He had been as shocked as his wife to learn that Erin’s apparent reconciliation had been but a charade. ‘But I do think that we should inform Sam where you are and tell him to come over and sort matters out once and for all.’

  Thomasin endorsed his view. ‘He’ll be worried, Erin.’

  ‘He knows where I am,’ argued their daughter, dismayed by their lack of support. ‘I’ve been here for three days – if he’d wanted me he’d’ve been here. He’s made it patently clear by his absence that he wants nothing to do with me.’

  ‘Clear?’ said her grandfather who had come to invite them all to the birthday tea that Hannah had organised for Sunday. ‘It’s all as clear as a pile o’ bloody sheep doddins to me.’ He had unwittingly asked about Erin’s presence and Patrick, to his daughter’s horror, had involved him in the argument. ‘If somebody’d tell me what cause of Erin leavin’ was, happen I could add my superior judgment, but I’m not sidin’ wi’ anyone without knowin’ all facts.’

  ‘No one’s asking ye to take sides, Grandad.’ Erin glared at her father, daring him to let her secret out.

  Patrick cleared his throat. ‘Aye, well perhaps I was wrong to involve ye, Billy. ’Tis a bit delicate-like.’

  ‘None o’ my bloody business tha means,’ said William.

  ‘It’s none of anyone’s business,’ exclaimed Erin. ‘But Mother an’ Father seem to be making it theirs.’

  Thomasin would not allow this. ‘Now wait on! You involved us when you came running here, tail between legs.’

  Erin was at once contrite. ‘I know, I know. I’m sorry.’ She stopped measuring the carpet to sit down with a bump. ‘An’ I know this discussion is only designed to help, but you’re confusing me further with your suggestions. I’ve got to have time to sort this out for myself. I’d like to do it here, but if ye want me to leave I will.’

  ‘Eh, Erin Feeney-as-was you’re an independent cat.’ Thomasin crossed her arms. ‘You know very well we wouldn’t chuck you out.’

  ‘Look, if nobody’s gonna tell us what this is all abaht can I ask if any o’ you buggers are gonna come to this ’ere party or not?’ requested William impatiently. ‘Our Hannah’s rushing round at ’ome as if her arse is on
fire. There’ll be hell to pay if no bugger turns up. Besides,’ he grinned, ‘I’ve got this special present what I want everybody to see.’

  ‘By the look on your face I can’t wait,’ said Patrick. ‘What is it?’

  ‘Ah, keep tha neb out! Tha’ll know soon enough. I’m not spoilin’ surprise.’

  They were no wiser when it was unveiled by the recipient at the Sunday birthday tea. Hannah held the metal contraption this way and that, and theorised on its purpose. ‘It’s a very well-made gift, William, I’m sure,’ she told her husband. ‘But… what exactly is it?’

  ‘I knew it’d flummox thee.’ William slapped his knee. ‘But tha were right when tha said it were well-made. Does anybody else know wharrit is?’

  Thomasin took the article from her puzzled mother and applied pressure to the metal strips. It was shaped something like a helmet, but the bands ran full circle and there was no way one could get it over one’s head.

  ‘I think it’s a birdcage,’ she announced, and passed it to her husband.

  ‘Nay, I hope you can show more initiative than that, Pat,’ said William, and pressed for an answer. ‘Away! What d’yer think it is?’ His face was elfin-like.

  Patrick disagreed with his wife. ‘Well, it’s definitely not a birdcage – look at the spaces between the bars. Anyway, even if it were big enough to house a parrot I doubt Hannah would allow one in her house if you had anything to do with training it to speak. But, I can’t for the life of me provide a better solution to your riddle. I might have said a helmet …’

  ‘Tha’s gerrin’ nearer,’ pronounced William happily.

  ‘That was my first thought,’ contributed Thomasin. ‘But what would Mother want with a helmet? Always considering she could get it on her head in the first place. It’s the queerest thing I’ve ever seen.’

  After Sonny, Peggy and the children had passed it amongst themselves and failed to guess its purpose, it was offered to an uninterested Erin, whose head was filled with her own problems.

  ‘I’ve really no idea what it is.’ She was about to pass it back but as William’s face fell she made herself look brighter than she felt to please him, examining the object more thoroughly. ‘Well, it can’t possibly be a helmet because … oh, yes look – it’s got a lock here. This piece must come open somehow.’ She tugged at it.