The Devil To Pay (Hennessey.)

by Marnie Perry

  She looked at him before looking down again trying to gather strength to continue. ‘My mother showed up, that’s what happened, she showed up at the camp site very, very drunk. She staggered into the camp site calling my name, “Dela, Dela,” she glanced at him, ‘that’s what she called me, never Adela. She fell in the mud again and again. Her clothes were filthy and she stank horribly of alcohol, you could smell it all over the camp site. Then she saw me and screamed, “You, hey you, Della, get your…effing stuff now and get the F home, there’s things that need doing.”

  I was mortified, everyone was staring. She got within a few yards of me and fell again right into a huge muddy puddle and lay there not moving. I ran to her and tried to pull her out but I slipped and fell too. Then some teachers came over and pulled her out of the mud and held her while she spluttered and choked then threw up everywhere. Then…then everyone started laughing.’ She broke off again and buried her face in her hands incredibly embarrassed. He removed her hands and turned her to face him. There were tears in her eyes and she tried to blink them away but a few escaped and fell down her cheek and onto his fingers. He used his thumbs to gently dry her cheeks. She looked at him with gratitude. He said, ‘so you had to go home with her.’

  She nodded, ‘yes, one of the teachers drove us the twenty miles back home and helped me put her to bed.’ She moved away from him and put her face in her hands before saying, ‘when I went back to school everyone was looking at me and pointing, it was so awful, so humiliating, even more so because it had been so nice, so much fun. I don’t think I ever forgave her. What kind of person does that make me, she was ill and troubled but I just…just blamed her and resented her.’

  His voice was very tender as he said, ‘you hate yourself for not understanding, but you shouldn’t, it wasn’t your fault that she was an alcoholic. You were so very young; and you did try to make up for the way you felt.’ She looked at him and frowned not understanding. ‘Yes, you resented your mother and felt guilty about that, that’s why you took care of her all those years, years when you should have been enjoying yourself as teenagers and young people do. Instead you made it your life’s work to take care of your mother, a kind of recompense for the way she made you feel. You did a wonderful thing, you gave up your youth for her, that she never appreciated it is not your fault or even hers, as you say, she was very sick.’

  The tears had gone but her eyes were very bright as she looked back at him. There was no pity in his eyes only sympathy and compassion and yes, understanding. She had never been so candid with anyone as she had been with Sterling Hennessey, a man she had only known for three days, a stranger really. But he had a way with him, a demanding, imperious yet gentle way of getting her to talk; it just came naturally to comply. Or maybe she wanted to talk; to confide, maybe she had just never met the right person to confide in. And he was so easy to talk to; she felt an empathy with him.

  Her voice shook slightly as she said, ‘I…I never thought of it like that.’ She gave a small smile, ‘you’d make a good shrink.’

  He retuned her smile, ‘I don’t think so. But I think anyone would understand what drove you to give up the best years of your life for a woman who never appreciated you, never showed any gratitude for the things you did. You were trying to be a good daughter and at the same time trying to get your mother to be a good parent, you tried to get her to love you. You set yourself an impossible task, but you should be applauded for at least trying. Most of us don’t, and many of us would have shunned a woman like your mother. She was very lucky to have you, even if she didn’t know it.’

  Her lips trembled and her eyed filled again, ‘thank you, thank you for listening, for understanding, for, well, just thank you.’

  He said softly, ‘you’re very welcome. But I hope that you will always feel that you can talk to me about your problems, old or new. You can tell me anything, anything at all and I will try to help as much as I can.’ He grinned, ‘in my role as your personal shrink.’

  She smiled tremulously and their eyes locked for a long moment before he looked down at their entwined fingers; she followed his gaze and the smile slid from her face as she very slowly began to withdraw her hand from his, obviously flustered.

  She cleared her throat and said, ‘look what I’ve done, brought negative feelings into this wonderful, sunny day. We should be enjoying ourselves not talking about my problems, old problems at that.’

  ‘If something needs to be brought out into the open there’s never a right time or place, wonderful, sunny days or cold winter nights, talking about the things that concern and worry us is always therapeutic.’

  Instantly Olivia came to her mind. Gosh, but she needed someone to talk to about that. Looking into his bright blue eyes, eyes that said “trust me, let me help you” the temptation was great at that moment to blurt it all out, to tell him all about it and ask his advice. Ask if he thought she had done the right thing by not insisting that Olivia go to the police, or go to them herself. Her smile was shaky, ‘thank you, Mr…Sterling.’

  He said, ‘why do you do that?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Either call me Mr. Hennessey, or start to say it then pick yourself up?’

  She shrugged, ‘oh that’s getting into old stuff again.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘It’s nothing really, it’s just that my mother had men friends, quite a lot of them, well, more drinking partners than friends. They would sometimes stay over after they got too drunk to make their way home.’

  He drew back his face dark, ‘they didn’t…

  She interrupted him, ‘oh no, no, not that, some did try to, well, you know, but they were always so drunk they were easy to avoid. No, it was just that my mother would say this is Mr. Smith, Jones or whatever, as though they were there on business and not to get drunk and…and other things with her. ‘ Her face was getting red now as she stumbled on, ‘I never wanted to know who they were or know anything about them, there were so many that would have been impossible anyway, so I kept it formal, Mr. This and Mr. That, it just became a habit to call men by their last names, I’m sorry.’

  ‘Don’t be, I understand now. Although if you could perhaps not see me as one of your mother’s many men friends I would appreciate it.’

  ‘Oh I don’t…I never even…’ She broke off as she saw the grin spread across his face; she said, ‘oh you,’ and pushed him playfully but forcefully so that he tipped sideways and had to put out his hand to stop himself from falling onto the sand.

  He said, ‘hey. My, what a violent woman you are, Miss. Faraday,’ he rubbed his arm as though in pain, ‘and also very strong.’

  ‘Who would know you were such a wimp and you look so tough too. But that will teach you to tease me, Mr. Hennessey.’

  He laughed, ‘lesson learned.’

  She laughed too and looked at her watch, ‘oh it’s 11.45, we ought to go and meet the ferry.’ She stood and looked down at him.

  ‘Yes, we wouldn’t want to be late twice in one day now would we?’

  She gave him a warning look, ‘lesson learned?’

  ‘I’m sorry, please don’t hit me again.’

  ‘Behave then.’

  ‘Yes, ma’am, anything you say, ma’am’

  ‘Better, much better.’

  He laughed out loud and she felt a lovely, warm feeling all over her body. She loved bantering with him, loved seeing him laugh like that, especially as he was laughing with her and not at her as was the story of her life.

  He stood up too and they walked down the beach to catch the ferry that bobbed on the water in the distance. As they walked Adela was still reeling from the things she had told him, but mostly at the things she had almost told him. She could not and must not let her feelings of uncertainty and isolation get the better of her. After all, the secret was not really hers to tell but Olivia’s. No, she was glad now she had not let this camaraderie, this rapport she felt with him influence her judgement. Some things were best kept sec
ret, especially when a life might be the cost of indiscretion.

  These thoughts led her to think about Olivia, she wondered if she was walking on a beach somewhere the warm golden sand beneath her feet. She hoped so; she hoped she would find happiness and peace.

  Hennessey himself was thinking, my God, am I good or what? A shrink? If that’s what she wanted then that’s what he would be, her shrink, her confidante, her father confessor.

  Anything it took to accomplish his mission. He realised that her hatred of gossip stemmed from her mother’s men “friends.” Those narrow minded bitches and bastards in her home town persuaded themselves and everyone else that she was a loose woman.

  But fuck, was the woman messed up, she had zero self esteem. And that was a good thing and also a bad thing for him, if she had no confidence in herself she would ask herself why a man like him would be interested in her, she would hesitate to take his advances at face value. Her lack of confidence in her ability to attract a man might just cause her to keep him at arms length, and that would make it harder for him to convince her that he had very real and very sincere intentions towards her.

  On the other hand her inexperience in the ways of men might help him to win her over, to seduce her into submission. She had told him things today that she had never told anyone, she had confided in him as she had to no one else, ever. God, but he was enjoying himself. Yet he had to admit that he had felt a certain compassion for her. That pitiful little story about the camping trip and her mother’s untimely intervention had brought out the tender part of him, a part he had long since suppressed or had been eradicated altogether through time and necessity.

  He pushed to the back of his mind the almost primal feeling of protectiveness that had enveloped him when she had mentioned the men her mother had associated with and had tried it on with her. He shrugged inwardly, any man would have had the urge to throttle a drunken prick who would accost a young vulnerable girl, it was just a guy thing.

  But he guessed that was why she liked pretty things, she had been denied any sort of life that a normal young girl would have, wearing sexy underwear and even sexier clothes to attract men. She had hidden herself behind dull, boring, colourless clothing so as not to be noticed. But now she was making up for it, once again he asked himself where she had come by her money. Well, he would find out soon enough.

  CHAPTER 20.

  As they climbed the steps onto the ferry Hennessey asked, ‘have you ever been on a ferry before?’

  ‘No, never.’

  ‘It’s seems to be my role in life to introduce you to new and exciting things.’

  She looked quickly at him and caught the mischievous glint in his eye before looking just as quickly away. He grinned. She said, ‘I hope I don’t get sea sick.’

  ‘Well let me know if you do, I’ve only just bought these rather expensive shoes.’

  She glanced up at him then down at his shoes, which were in fact sandals, and although not cheap looking they didn’t look that expensive.

  ‘Thanks for letting me know that piece of useful information, now I know just where to aim.’

  He gave her an impatient look, ‘I keep getting the worst of our verbal interaction don’t I?' She grinned complacently. He said, ‘never mind, I might do better at other interactions, more important interactions.’

  The grin on her face was replaced by surprise then confusion and she lowered her eyes shyly. It was his turn to grin rather rakishly.

  There were a lot of people on the ferry all talking and laughing excitedly anticipating a fun day out on Ship Island. Quite a few were speaking French and Adela watched them fascinated, trying to pick up on some of what they said, but they spoke too fast for her to keep up. Hennessey noticed and said, ‘eavesdropping?’

  Her face went pink, ‘oh no, well, yes. I know it appears rude, but I can’t understand a word they’re saying. I was listening to the language rather than the chat. I’m fascinated that so many people in the south can speak French. I would very much like to learn but I know I’ll never be as fluent as these people.’

  She had walked right into a trap of her own making and he wasn’t about to let the opportunity pass. He said innocently, ‘so you can’t speak a foreign language?’

  ‘Oh I can speak German.’ As soon as she’d said it she recalled the two goons and how she had tricked them. She looked away in case her face gave away her unease.

  He said, ‘German, really? That’s supposed to be a difficult language to learn.’

  ‘Oh I’m not fluent; I learned just enough to get by.’

  Oh and you did, Miss. Modest, you did. He thought.

  To take the attention from herself she asked, ‘what about you, can you speak another language?’

  ‘I speak some Spanish, some Italian, and French of course. It’s almost compulsory in Louisiana.’ He almost said, and I’m just as fluent in charm.

  She nodded, but did not ask him to say anything in any of those languages as most people would have he noticed. Obviously she was eager to change the subject and he would go along with it, he had got what he wanted anyway.

  As they walked he watched her face as she scanned the throngs of people and saw the unease there. He took her hand in his and guided her to the other side of the ferry towards where the lifeboats were kept. It was quieter here and she gave him a grateful look.

  ‘It’s always best to keep as close to the lifeboats as possible, just in case.’ He said.

  She looked startled and sounded worried as she repeated, ‘just in case?’

  He chuckled, ‘I’m just kidding. I’ve never heard of a ferry sinking on its way to any of these Islands.’ Her shoulders relaxed as he looked across the water and finished, ‘but there’s always a first time.’

  She looked at his profile and saw his lips twitch, ‘I bet they’ve never had a man overboard before either, but there’s always a first time for that too.’

  He looked round at her but she was looking off into the distance her expression neutral.

  ‘For a nice, amiable, quietly spoken English lady you can be a bit of a harridan, Miss. Faraday.’

  ‘Oh I can be ruthless when pushed.’

  ‘I believe it; I have a bruise on my arm to prove it.’

  ‘Oh you baby.’ He laughed and she did too.

  Eventually she said, ‘you know it seems such a waste just standing here, shall we go and take a look around?’

  ‘Are you sure? I know you don’t like crowds.’

  ‘Yes I’m sure. I did come to this country to explore and try out new things; I should at least try to be an adventuress.’

  He chuckled and putting his hand on the small of her back as he had done before escorted her around the ship. They went onto the top deck and watched Ship Island coming closer.

  It took about an hour to reach the Island and during that time he told her some of its history. He told her that the Island had been named in 1699 by French Explorers and that many colonists took their first steps on American soil at Ship Island, it was known as the Plymouth Rock of the Gulf coast.

  It had also been a prison for confederate P.O.W’s and one could take a tour of Fort Massachusetts too. She marvelled at how much he seemed to know, he did not strike her as the type to be interested in history, yet she was often surprised by him, sometimes she had to admit, even shocked. He told her that the ferry service that went to the Islands was rumoured to be owned by the mob. She was amazed.

  The hour went very quickly and they alighted from the ferry onto a board -walk, which stretched for three quarters of a mile to the swim beach on the south side of the Island.

  He told her that they would probably see some Atlantic Bottle Nosed Dolphins which swam here feeding on Mullet and Menhaden.

  She was very excited about that, telling him that she had never seen a Dolphin except on the television. He was surprised and asked if she had never been to a zoo or an aquarium she said she hadn’t and then went quiet for a while. He took her hand again and said,
‘well this is going to be a day of firsts for you, in a vacation full of firsts.’

  Once again she had the distinct impression that he was telling her something, more than that, preparing her for something. She felt trepidation gnaw at her stomach, trepidation and fear and an undeniable excitement before she chided herself for being all kinds of an idiot. She was reading too much into the things he said, seeing things that weren’t there, hearing things that weren’t being said. She must stop it.

  They arrived at the beach and Adela noticed what a lot of people there were. They were running in and out of the ocean; or surfing or water skiing or playing beach games or just lying around getting a tan.

  They stopped under a relatively shaded area and she put her towel on the sand and they sat down. He followed her gaze and quoted, ‘Melanoma by the sea.’

  She looked up at him in surprise, ‘good memory.’

  ‘I wouldn’t forget that, it was the first time I realised you had a terrific sense of humour.’

  ‘Humour? It wasn’t meant to be funny, it was meant to be a warning.’

  He laughed, ‘you’ve just made my point again, great sense of humour, great legs, great accent, great…

  She cut him off, ‘all right, all right, I get it, I’m great. You can stop now.’

  ‘I don’t want to stop, I’m enjoying myself.’

  'You know, Mr. Hennessey; you wield that charm like a weapon.’

  He looked askance at her then burst out laughing. Still laughing he said, ‘all right it might be my undeniable charm speaking, but it also has the virtue of being true, as is everything else I say.’

  She had tried to be nonchalant and laid back about the things that he had said, but in reality she felt confused and uncertain when he complimented her. She knew he was the type of man to charm his way through life, that it came as easy to him as carrying a weapon, a part of his life that was why she had used the gun analogy. He was so used to it that even he probably didn’t know whether he was being genuine or not.