Shoddy Prince

by Sheelagh Kelly

  The little girl was composed again. ‘It didn’t hurt.’

  ‘Oriel.’ Bright paused on the footpath. ‘Ye mustn’t bother the old lady with talk of your father. She doesn’t know him and… well, she doesn’t like men. We don’t want to upset her do we?’

  Oriel had not noticed her benefactress’s misanthropy but agreed that it would be unwise to upset her.

  ‘And you’re not to call her Miss B either,’ warned her mother.

  ‘You do.’

  ‘Yes, but… oh why do I bother! Just don’t, that’s all.’

  Oriel was not to be detoured from her previous topic. ‘Will you tell me all about my father?’

  ‘I can’t, I have to cook dinner.’ Bright stared down at her child’s enquiring face. The question would arise again and again if she avoided it now. ‘Well, all right, I’ll tell you later when I’ve done all my work and we can go upstairs on our own.’ Feeling giddy, she moved on. ‘Come on now, be a good girl and go get washed for dinner.’

  ‘Luncheon,’ corrected Oriel.

  ‘Whatever,’ sighed Bright.

  During the Sunday meal Oriel announced to Miss Bytheway, ‘My father’s in Canada.’

  Bright was in the process of inserting a forkful of lamb into her mouth. At Oriel’s words she stalled, dribbling gravy down her chin.

  White eyebrows were raised in disapproval of the peasant-like manner, then their owner turned back to Oriel. ‘A good thing too.’

  ‘Why?’ demanded the child.

  ‘Oriel!’ Bright’s eyes held a warning over the napkin with which she was mopping nervously at her chin. Only then did Oriel heed her mother’s orders that she was not to mention her father to Miss Bytheway.

  But the old lady had been provoked now. ‘For the reason that he is shiftless, untrustworthy and a blackguard.’

  Oriel was unfamiliar with any of these terms. ‘Does that mean he’s bad?’

  ‘Yes – as are all men!’

  At least it was not just her father who was maligned. However, Oriel was not a child to accept such blanket accusations. ‘Mother said you don’t know him.’

  Miss Bytheway glanced sharply from child to mother. ‘I do not need to have the misfortune to meet him! That he left your mother in the lurch is sufficient evidence of his character.’

  Oriel turned to her mother, who was by now furious. ‘Where’s the lurch?’

  ‘Oriel, be told!’ Bright managed to contain her fury but her cheeks were as pink as the ruby glass piece on the sideboard. The expression on her mother’s face was enough for the child. Oriel continued her meal in silence.

  * * *

  Later, in the privacy of the nursery, Bright returned to the misdemeanour. ‘Why did you disobey me? I told you not to speak of your father to Miss B!’

  ‘She doesn’t like him.’

  ‘She doesn’t know him!’ Bright was free to vent her anger now. ‘D’ye think I gave ye that order for my own good? I knew what Miss B would say about your father, she hates men.’ Her employer was invariably rude to the coalman and any other merchant who had the misfortune to encounter her when they came to deliver.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I don’t know and tis none o’ my business! But it is my affair when she blackens your father’s character and her not even acquainted with him. Didn’t I say I’d tell you all about him later? But would you wait? No! Well, let me tell you I will not have you airing our private affairs in front of that woman! I’m your mother, not her!’

  Oriel was too young to understand this argument. That she had deeply upset her mother was quite obvious, but she could not think how. Frowning, she replied to her mother’s last statement as if Bright were stupid. ‘I know that! I just—’

  ‘Don’t answer back!’

  ‘But you—’

  ‘Quiet!’ Bright raised her hand. Oriel flinched. Bright’s hand hung in mid-air, her mouth a hard line. Then she let the blow fall on her own thigh. ‘For pity’s sake, she’s got us arguing now!’ She bobbed to her knees and hugged Oriel. ‘We must never let her come between us, baby. We’re all each other has.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’ Oriel was very close to tears.

  ‘No, no.’ Bright sat back on her heels, then kissed the forlorn brow. ‘Don’t worry, tis only your mammy thinking you’re older than you are – sure, you act as if you’re my mother sometimes, I forget you’re only little. See, you’re the only person I have to tell my troubles to, Oriel, the only one I can share my secrets with. If you…’ she bit her lip, tears springing to her eyes. ‘I’m just so frightened that Miss B is going to turn you against me an’ then I’ll have no one.’ Her voice cracked.

  Oriel was an emotional child. At the sight of her mother’s tears she started to emulate. They held each other, sobbing and wailing. Once her grief had been aired, Bright let out a wet laugh. ‘Tis a wonder herself hasn’t come dashing up here thinking I’m murdering ye! Come on, let’s dry our eyes and make the most of our time before her ladyship rings that blasted bell. Come, sit by me on the bed and I’ll tell you all about your father. Anything ye hear from your mother’s lips will be true. Always remember that, Oriel. Miss B has reasons of her own for hating men, she’ll tell you they’re all worthless and it just isn’t true.’

  Eyes patted dry, Oriel sat close to her mother. ‘What’s my father’s name?’

  ‘Nat Prince.’

  ‘That’s nice.’ Oriel rubbed her knees through the lace dress and jiggled her patent leather boots. ‘What does he look like?’

  Her mother’s brown eyes misted over with nostalgia. ‘He’s got hair and eyes the same colour as yours. I’m not sure how big he is – tis more than three years since I’ve seen him. He would’ve grown by now. He was never much of a talker.’ Here she smiled and hugged the child. ‘Ye get that from your mother. He used to drive me mad sometimes, not saying anything, letting me do all the talking. Anyway, we were both very young…’ Embarrassment flooded over her as she remembered ‘that’ night, but she compelled her tongue to grant Oriel her birthright. ‘Mothers and fathers are supposed to be married before they have children. If they’re not tis a sin in the eyes of God and in the eyes of the people. Your father and me, as I said we were only young, too young to be married and something happened between us – don’t ask me what Oriel, I didn’t understand it myself and I’m not sure I fully understand it even now – but it resulted in you being born. Your father was at the Industrial School at the time.’

  ‘Where’s that?’

  ‘Tis a place where they put naughty boys – he wasn’t a bad boy at all, he’d never had much love nor guidance in his life and he just took the wrong road. His own mother left him all alone when he was eleven years old. Can you imagine how he must’ve felt, left to fend for himself at that age? He got in with a bad lot and found himself in trouble time and again. Anyway,’ she hung her head and sighed, ‘he was locked away in there and when I told him I was having a baby he was frightened, so very frightened, and somehow when he was given the chance to go to Canada he went. I didn’t find out till it was too late. I was all alone then, my father threw me out…’

  ‘Aw!’ Oriel started to blubber. ‘I hate him!’

  ‘Oh no, no, ye mustn’t hate your grandfather,’ soothed Bright. ‘He loved me really, he was just so angry that I’d let him down, let all the family down. It was all my fault, I should never have let things happen. The shame of it killed him – anyway, that’s about all I can tell ye about your father. I never saw him nor any of my family again.’

  Oriel’s nose and eyes were streaming. There were dozens of questions she wanted to ask, but all she could see was her poor mother’s maltreatment.

  ‘Oh, there, there!’ Bright hugged her. ‘If I’d known it would cause such tears I’d never’ve told ye… but ye have a right to know. I’ll always be honest with ye, darlin’. I’ll always be here if ever you’re in trouble. I’ll never desert ye.’ Not like they deserted me, came the private thought. Though outwardly e
xcusing her dead father’s actions to his granddaughter, Bright could not fully understand how her mother, now widowed and under no pressure, could remain so unforgiving. Mrs Maguire had not been to see her daughter, nor her granddaughter, once. It was obvious that she and the rest of the clan blamed Bright for her father’s death. God knew, she had heaped enough blame on herself without having to suffer theirs too. Her attitude towards them had hardened now; she had no wish to see them either.

  Oriel lifted her petticoat to wipe her eyes and nose, causing Bright to laugh. ‘Miss B would be delighted that ye’ve picked up all her good manners.’

  ‘I love you, Mother.’ Oriel clung to her. ‘I’ll never leave you.’

  ‘Oh you will.’ Bright rocked her back and forth. ‘One day you’ll go out into the world and maybe meet a nice man and get married and I’ll be the happiest woman alive. I’ll not let you live your life for me. Just be happy, that’s all I ask, and be whatever you want to be.’

  They held each other thus for a while, then Oriel tilted her moonbeam face and sniffed. ‘Will Father come back one day?’

  Bright ached inside. ‘I’m sure he will,’ she replied softly. Oh, how she yearned at this moment more than any other for male affection. There had been so much of it from her father and brothers whilst she was growing up that its absence now left a yawning chasm in her life. Again, she reflected on what might have been had she not committed this great sin. Would she now have been embarking into matrimony with Nat, looking for a little house, preparing a nursery? Would she ever feel male arms around her again?

  * * *

  The first months of the new century were harsh. Milk froze in the jug and stalactites glittered along the roof-line. Miss Bytheway was normally a hardy soul, but even she succumbed to the foul weather.

  ‘Will I get the doctor, Miss Bytheway?’ enquired Bright as her employer’s hacking cough grated over the Sunday lunch table.

  ‘It is very kind of you to think of me,’ came the sedate if hoarse reply, ‘but I have never needed a doctor in my life and I have no intention of changing my habits now.’

  It wasn’t you I was thinking about, thought Bright. Twas my aching head. Tis like a road drill when you start hacking and rattling. And not only that, what will I do if you die? I’ll be out on the street. Obviously the old dragon would die some time, but Bright wanted to delay this as long as possible. ‘I know it’s none of my concern…’

  ‘None at all.’ Miss Bytheway suffered another fit of coughing. When Bright filled her glass with water she drank gratefully, allowing her employee to continue.

  ‘But that could turn to pneumonia.’

  The old lady took a tentative breath, then abandoned her unfinished meal, looking ghastly. ‘Maguire, you are a servant not a physician! Kindly do your job and remove…’ Her voice trailed away in a weird moan as she fell face down into her mashed potatoes. Bright managed to leap up and catch her before she capsized to the floor, but not without knocking over several items as she collided with the table.

  ‘Oh, Jesus, help me!’ She struggled to hold the dead weight, her back almost breaking. Oriel tried first to push, then took an arm and helped tug the old lady’s upper body back against the chair.

  The little girl chuckled. ‘Ooh, she’s got potato all over her hair!’

  ‘Never mind that!’ scolded her mother. ‘There’s a doctor down the road… oh, no, you’re too little! Oh, God, what will I do if she dies?’ She squeezed her eyes shut, breast rising and falling. ‘Think, think, woman! Right, go next door and ask if one of their servants will be so kind as to fetch a doctor for Miss B. Can ye remember that? Good! Hurry now, and don’t slip on the ice!’

  When Oriel returned Miss Bytheway was still unconscious and Bright was at her wits’ end. ‘Mother o’ God, what’ll I do? What’ll I do?’ She had a brainwave. ‘Smelling salts! Have a look in the cupboard, Oriel. Hurry!’

  The little child rifled every drawer and cupboard she could reach, holding up several items for inspection. ‘Is this it, Mother?’

  ‘No!’

  ‘Is this it?’

  ‘No! Oh, she’s almost dead, I’m sure of it!’ Bright was creeping towards complete panic. ‘Feathers! We’ll have to burn feathers!’

  Oriel felt competent to help now. ‘I know where there is one!’ She returned triumphantly in seconds.

  ‘Shove it in the fire!’ urged Bright.

  ‘But you told me never to—’

  ‘I know, I know, but tis all right just this once! Be very careful and hold your dress away from the flame.’

  Oriel stretched her arm to the fire, holding back her dress with one hand and grimacing as the heat reached her skin.

  ‘That’s enough!’ cried Bright. ‘We just need the smoke from it.’ Still struggling to keep the unconscious woman upright she instructed Oriel, ‘Put it under her nose – no, not up her nose! Just there, yes, and waft it about.’

  ‘It pongs,’ observed Oriel.

  The smoke tickled Miss Bytheway’s nostrils and reached her brain. She began to stir, then endured a dreadful coughing fit that Bright felt would surely finish her off. Please don’t die, you old bugger, or I’ll kill ye. However, Miss Bytheway was made of sterner stuff.

  ‘My best quill pen!’ Her horrified bloodshot gaze rested on the remains of the feather that Oriel had used to rouse her. ‘My mother’s pen, ruined!’

  ‘Sorry…’ Oriel tried to rearrange the blackened strands of goose-feather, to no effect.

  ‘Don’t blame her!’ Bright was exasperated. ‘Twas a matter of life or death.’

  ‘Tush! I only fainted.’ Miss Bytheway grabbed the feather, moaned again and turned on her maid. ‘Maguire, why did you allow this to happen?’

  ‘We couldn’t rouse ye!’ Bright railed inwardly at the ingratitude of the woman. ‘I had to do something till the doctor arrives.’

  ‘I specifically forbade you to send for a doctor!’

  ‘Well, he’s coming!’ Bright was firm. ‘Sure, I thought you were dying.’

  ‘Hoped,’ sniped an ungracious Miss Bytheway.

  ‘Now why would I want to see you dead?’ In her anger Bright forgot her station. ‘That’s idiotic!’

  Miss Bytheway’s colour flooded back. She was about to censure her maid, who was now issuing profuse apologies, when the doorbell rang and Oriel scampered to admit the doctor who immediately confined Miss Bytheway to bed, ‘For the next couple of weeks at the very least!’

  ‘Quack!’ spat the old lady at his departure, though she was too ill to disobey and allowed herself to be helped up to bed.

  ‘Why don’t ye move into this room?’ Bright indicated the one on the first landing. ‘It’ll save your legs.’ It’ll save my legs too, came the private thought.

  ‘That is my parents’ room!’ Miss Bytheway was shocked. ‘I couldn’t possibly move in there.’

  ‘How long is it since they… passed away?’ The maid hovered hopefully outside the door.

  ‘Thirty years – at least that’s when Mother died. Father outlived her by a few years.’

  ‘Then I’m sure they wouldn’t mind now.’

  ‘But I would!’ The old lady was determined to continue up the mountainous staircase.

  It was this determination that kept her alive, Bright was sure of it, though every night and morn she herself prayed to the Virgin and every saint she could think of for the health of her employer, just to make sure. By miracle or determination the invalid recovered, though she was everafter prone to chest colds, even in the summer.

  ‘What’s wrong with me?’ she raged at Bright, when another such illness kept her from taking Oriel to see the Prince of Wales, who was visiting York. ‘No one gets a chill in the summer. Look at it out there!’ She gestured with her handkerchief at the window. ‘Brilliant sunshine and here I am confined to my bed like a weak, sickly pathetic old woman!’ She thumped the mattress in frustration, then almost tore her handkerchief to shreds. ‘Well, that’s it, I’m finished! If this is
the quality of life I can expect in my final years then I might as well die now.’

  ‘Don’t say that! Don’t you ever say that.’ In a trice Bright was plunged back four years and into that river, felt it close over her head, seep into her throat…

  ‘Yes, you’re quite right, Maguire!’ The doughty Miss Bytheway rallied. ‘I’m not one of those self-pitying weaklings, I won’t let it beat me. I’m going to see the Prince of Wales, even if I have to die in the attempt.’

  Heart still pounding, Bright was tardy in restraining the old woman. Miss Bytheway was already out of bed. ‘Ye’ll never be able to walk two steps, let alone two miles into town,’ she warned, as a tremulous arm reached for her bodice.

  ‘I don’t intend to. You can hail a cab – don’t just stand there, help me dress!’

  ‘Miss Bytheway, there won’t be room for a cab to move in town,’ protested Bright. ‘The streets’ll be full of people. And you really are in no fit state to go.’

  Suddenly feeling whoozy, the dame pressed a hand to her forehead and sank back onto the mattress. ‘I hate to say it twice in one day, Maguire, but you are right. Rats!’ Once more the handkerchief was subjected to a bout of frenzied tweaking. ‘I detest letting Oriel down, she was so looking forward to it.’

  Bright hung onto her temper. ‘She doesn’t have to be let down. I could take her if only you’d give me the afternoon off.’

  Miss Bytheway’s first response was to gawp, as if this were a preposterous suggestion, but after consideration she replied, ‘Oh, very well! But you must catch up with your work when you return – and you are certainly not having the entire afternoon off! It takes half an hour to get there and half an hour to get back. A couple of hours will be sufficient.’

  ‘Then I’d better go and get ready.’

  ‘Oh, don’t sound too grateful!’ the invalid called after her. ‘And you must leave me well provided with cordial et cetera. I refuse to suffer discomfort while my maid goes gallivanting off to enjoy herself.’