Dickie and his brother said they would go. ‘But just us,’ said Sonny. ‘There’s no need to trail Josie and the kids, is there?’
‘John, you make it sound as if it’ll be too much trouble,’ reproached his wife. ‘I was as fond of your father as anyone.’
‘We know that, Josie,’ Thomasin’s voice soothed. ‘And Pat loved you as well. This isn’t going to be a pilgrimage, it’s simply to satisfy a bit of family curiosity – I’m not implying that you’re not a member of the family,’ one had to be so careful in one’s choice of words to Josie, she tended to take things the wrong way, ‘but you’ve no personal interest in Ireland, it’d be a shame for you to drag yourself over there in this weather just because you thought it was the right thing to do.’
‘So, you wouldn’t think I was awful if I stayed at home.’ It was Win now.
Thomasin smiled at the pretty but drawn face. ‘Good Lord no, you’ve had enough sickness without having to suffer the mal-de-mer variety on top. And there’s no need for you to go either, Nick.’ She turned to her grandson. ‘Unless you especially feel you must. Stay home and look after Win. You can go to Ireland any day. It’s only us old’ns who’re short on time.’
‘Hey, don’t be lumping me in with that statement,’ objected Dickie, then looked at his wife. ‘Dust, you might as well come for the trip; it’ll be a bit lonely here for you.’
‘You mean how will I possibly last a few days without your company.’ She shook her head smilingly. ‘I’ll welcome the rest. No, you go ahead. Anyway, it should really be just for you and your mother.’
Of the same mind, Thomasin made no objection.
‘We’ll stay and keep you company, Aunt,’ offered Win.
‘Eh, hang on. I do have work to see to,’ Nick reminded her.
‘A few days alone won’t harm me,’ vouched Dusty. ‘I can put it to good use.’ That use remained a secret. Only Dickie guessed that she would spend the time getting to know their children. He laid an arm over her shoulder.
‘Good, that’s all settled then,’ said Thomasin. ‘Sonny, will you make the arrangements, love?’ He asked when for and, swamped by the awful feeling that she was going to die before she could see Pat’s birthplace, she answered, ‘As soon as possible.’
‘Are you all right, love?’ Erin touched her arm.
‘Aye …’ Thomasin’s mouth smiled, but her eyes showed the truth. ‘I’m just tired – oh, that sounds like the solicitor. Better fetch the girls down, Sonny, they’ll probably get a mention.’
On everyone being gathered in the drawing room, the solicitor began the reading of Pat’s will. Nick picked his nails idly, waiting for the real stuff to begin. He had no idea what was in that document – unusual for Nicholas who knew everyone’s business – but it had not been drawn up until Pat’s return from Ireland. Unlike his wife, Pat had been too superstitious to commit anything to paper until he had known he was actually dying.
‘… Everything to be left in the capable hands of my wife, who I know will dispose of it fairly in the event of her own testimony … ’
Nick’s heart bounced. Surely he had misheard?
‘God bless you all, my loves, and forgive me. I am just too tired.’
Nick was still waiting when the will was folded and the solicitor excused himself to go to another appointment.
Thomasin’s eyes embraced him and the others apologetically. ‘I wouldn’t’ve dragged you all down if I’d realised … he never showed it to me.’ She glanced at her grandson. His mood did not require clairvoyancy. ‘Never mind, you’ll all be looked after when I go.’
‘Behave yourself,’ chided Erin. ‘We don’t want your money.’
‘I know, love, but I just feel …’ Her tone changed to one of pique. ‘Eh, your father never was one for making decisions, leaving everything up to me … I know why he’s done this, so’s there’s no squabble over unfairness.’
Erin looked pained. ‘He thought we’d only be interested in what he’d left us?’
‘No, no, but even in the closest of families there’s always someone who thinks he’s been hard done by.’
‘I’m sure there’s no one here who …’ Erin broke off to donate a penetrating glance at her brother. ‘Oh aye, maybe you’re right.’
Dickie replied caustically, ‘Oh, give her a piece of leather to chew on, somebody.’ Josie thought it wise to dismiss the girls.
‘See!’ cried Thomasin. ‘You’re at each other’s throats even with nothing to fight over – that’s exactly what your father wanted to avoid and you’re doing it just the same. I think when I go I’ll leave the whole bloody lot to charity.’ There was silence. ‘Aye, I thought that’d quieten you down. Well, you can just buck your ideas up else it won’t just be an idle threat.’
Dickie consulted his brother. ‘D’ye think we should do her in now while her will’s in our favour?’
His joke broke the tension. ‘I shouldn’t bother,’ said his mother tartly. ‘You were cut out of it years ago.’
He laughed in acceptance of the truth and came to cuddle her. ‘You bloody old villain, don’t pretend ye won’t enjoy doling Dad’s cash out – sixpence for you, threepence for you, a kick up the arse for our Dickie.’ He dodged her swipe. ‘Well, if I’m not gonna benefit from the ould bugger’s will, the least ye can do is pay my fare to Ireland.’
Thomasin caught hold of his hand and smiled sadly. Her next words were not just for him but for everyone. ‘He did love you, you know.’
‘We know, Mam,’ replied Erin softly. ‘We know.’
* * *
‘I never for one moment imagined it would be like this.’ Thomasin stepped from the carriage into the windswept Irish landscape and stared around her. ‘The way he spoke of it, it seemed like … Paradise.’
Erin was staggered, too. Admittedly, it was a beautiful sweeping landscape with a granite mountain that looked purple in this light – but so wild, so forbidding somehow. Both of them found it hard to equate it with Pat’s warm nature. There was virtually nothing here; no streets, no shops, no people, just wilderness. If Thomasin had hoped to alleviate her suffering by coming here then she had been misleading herself.
On the journey over from Castlebar they had been treated to one of the spontaneous downpours that are special to Ireland. There were no warning spots, just a deluge. Luckily, they had been in the carriage and the only inconvenience had been the loss of a view; the shower had been so heavy that it had blocked the windows as effectively as a curtain. They had been forced to look at one another and listen to the drumming on the roof. It had ended as abruptly as it had begun – though this was of no consequence to the poor driver and his horses who were still drenched now, a condition exacerbated by the cutting wind that had welcomed them to Pat’s birthplace.
Dickie rubbed his hands together and hunched his shoulders against the cold. ‘God, I’m bustin’ for a pee,’ he muttered to his brother whose face glowed red from the climate. He looked round for some cover, but the nearest bush was some distance away.
The womenfolk had begun to move in the direction of the imposing mountain. Looking back, Thomasin saw that her sons were not following and paused for them to catch up.
‘You go on!’ Sonny’s voice competed with the wind. ‘We’re just having a wander down this way. I can do with one myself,’ he added to Dickie.
‘Men,’ smiled Thomasin to Erin as they walked on. ‘They can never hold their water.’
In the shelter of the clump of gorse, they relieved the pressure on their bladders. As he went about his business, Dickie’s narrowed eyes spotted a few cottages. ‘Christ, there are folk here. How the devil do they survive? it wouldn’t do for me.’ A cloud of steam rose around their feet.
‘Me neither,’ admitted Sonny, though he did have a sudden desire to paint the scene and damned the oversight that had allowed him to leave his colours at home. One day, though, he would come back. ‘It might look more friendly in the summer.’ He buttoned his trousers and
refastened his overcoat. ‘I wouldn’t mind coming back for a holiday with Josie and the kids. They could stop a bit closer to civilization …’
‘Civilization?’ laughed Dickie. ‘In Ireland?’ He had made constant grumbles about their hotel which was fabled to be the most modern in Castlebar.
‘… and I,’ continued Sonny, ‘could spend a few days camping out here.’
‘Let me guess.’ Dickie adjusted his clothes. ‘Ye want to paint it.’
Sonny laughed with him. ‘Well, I think it’d look rather good on the wall. You know,’ he placed imaginary blocks of letters in the air, ‘Here began the Feeney clan … sort of thing.’
Dickie looked around. ‘Mam’s right. I never expected this, did you?’
Sonny shrugged. ‘I don’t know what I expected really …’ After this, the brothers seemed at a loss as to what to do. A sudden gust whipped the younger man’s hat away. He chased it over several yards, pounced and jammed it back on his head, then turned towards his brother, anticipating more laughter, but Dick had a handkerchief to his nose … ah no, when Sonny came nearer he saw that the handkerchief was attending his brother’s eyes. Dick felt the comforting hand on his arm, wiped his tears, blew his nose and made a joke. ‘It was a bloody long way to come for a pee.’
‘Aye … but at least we can say we’ve seen it. God, this wind’s making my ears ache.’ Sonny rubbed at them, but the moment his hands fell away they throbbed again.
‘Mine too. C’mon, let’s head back.’
They searched the landscape with their eyes, spotted two small figures which were Thomasin and Erin and began to head for them. ‘When we get home,’ said Sonny, fighting to get his words out as the wind fought just as hard to put them back in his mouth, ‘you and Dusty might like to spend a weekend in Leeds.’
Dick took an extra long stride over a boggy patch. ‘Great, we’d love to. I kinda hoped I might have an invitation from Nick, but no.’ He caught his brother’s unease. ‘Don’t worry, Son, I haven’t come home to stir up any trouble. Nick made it very plain that he only regards me as an uncle.’
‘And how do you regard him?’
After weighing the consequences of any admission, Dick was truthful. ‘I guess I look upon him as my son, even though I was never a father to him – but that’s kinda natural, ain’t it? Anyway, as I said, as far as Nick’s concerned he’s only got one father. He had some good things to say about you.’
The path was made uneven by clumps of gorse and heather; Sonny veered to his right. ‘Oh? Go on then, embarrass me.’
Dickie repeated Nick’s statement, adding, ‘You’re a very lucky man.’
Sonny smiled. ‘Aye, I know.’ He watched his sister and mother hanging onto one another, stumbling through the heather, their black coats flapping like crows’ wings. ‘When I think of all the heartache our Erin’s been through …’
‘Ah come on, you’ve had your own share of tragedy, what with Rosie …’
‘She was yours too,’ cut in Sonny.
‘I lost her years ago,’ came his brother’s dull reply.
‘Aye well…’ Sonny’s expression was scarred by memory. ‘I have to admit it was bloody terrible. You don’t expect your children to die before you do. But, apart from the time I thought you’d died in that fire, Rosie’s death’s been the only real tragedy in my life,’ – he seemed to have discounted the bad years of his first marriage – ‘whereas Erin’s seems to have been full of loss and struggle of one kind or the other: she lost her husband, her baby, had to put up with Grandma saying that Belle was an imbecile …’
‘An’ now she’s got her detested brother back from the dead.’
‘Oh now,’ coaxed Sonny. ‘She doesn’t detest you. Surely you can understand her anger?’ His ears were purple now.
Dickie puffed out his cheeks then gave a wan nod. ‘I’m sorry for what I did to everybody. Especially to you. I know it’s been said in our letters to each other, but words on paper, they don’t mean much, do they?’
Sonny smiled and clapped a hand to his brother’s shoulder. ‘I’ll tell you, Dick, those words of yours meant a hell of a lot to me after thinking you were dead all those years.’
Dickie grinned, then heaved a sigh. ‘Ah dear … it’s a funny old life, ain’t it? You with all those kids an’ me with none.’
‘What’s so bloody funny about that?’ asked Sonny in mock offence. ‘You make it sound as if you didn’t think I had it in me.’
Dickie gave a cheeky smile. ‘Well, it did take ye a long time to find out how to use it.’ He widened the subject. ‘Did ye hear that Dusty wants to adopt some of Belle’s children?’
‘No – some, you said?’ Sonny missed his footing and swore before righting himself.
‘Three o’ the buggers.’ Dickie made a face. ‘She must think I’m Doctor Barnardo. Keep it under your hat in front of Erin, though. ’Twas Mam’s idea. At least, she told Dusty that Belle wanted to find homes for them. Dusty didn’t need much encouragement. She’s got it into her head that if we get to know them before Belle comes back we’re over the first hurdle.’
‘I don’t want to disillusion her but I have a feeling she’s wrong there,’ said Sonny. ‘Belle can take a lot of convincing. Still, I wish you luck.’
‘I’m not sure it’s what I want – I don’t mean luck, I’ll probably need plenty of that. No, I mean the kids. See, they’re not blood kin. Oh, they’re nice enough little things, but I don’t really feel anything for them, Son, not like I do for your wee lad an’ Johnny.’ He smiled at the thought of the latter.
Sonny felt a twinge of alarm, but suppressed it. He was being much too possessive. ‘You might like them more when you get to know them.’
‘Not young Freddie, I won’t.’ Dick was unshakable. ‘The little … D’ye know what he called me? A bugger!’ His brother laughed and Dickie had to join him. ‘The little rat. I’d’ve clipped him if I hadn’t thought it’d ruin Dusty’s chances of adopting the girls. Anyway, hush up,’ they were nearing the women, ‘I don’t want Erin sticking her two pennorth in and spoiling things.’
He took ten more steps then put an arm round his mother. ‘Ye look freezin’. Was there nothing up that way for ye to see?’
‘There’s nothing much to see at all, is there?’ Thomasin, face pinched with cold, gazed round her. ‘I don’t think I’ll be setting up shop here. Well… I suppose I’ve done what I came to do. I’m off back to sit in the carriage where it’s a bit warmer. You three don’t have to go yet, if you don’t want.’
But they too had seen enough. Leaning into the wind they fought their way back to the cart track. With his passengers huddled inside the carriage, the thankful driver steered his horses back towards Castlebar. All this way just for a ten minute walk in the heather – and at this time of year! But then he ought to have known he was in for trouble when he’d heard the English accents. Didn’t everyone know the English were bloody mad?
Thomasin rolled sad eyes for one last glimpse of Patrick’s birthplace. Somewhere back there, in a little pocket of turf nestled his favourite pipe. You’re a daft ould biddy, she heard him say, before turning her eyes towards home.
* * *
When they got back to York it was to an empty house, save for the staff. According to the cook, Dusty had gone to visit Belle’s children. Erin met this news with interest, and her brother prepared for some caustic remark, but none came. Their luggage was toted away and unpacked by the manservant, baths were drawn and clean clothes laid out, whilst Vinnie prepared a most welcome hot meal. Afterwards, Sonny told his mother that he had better transport himself home, ‘Unless you particularly want me to stay?’
‘No, you get back, love. Give those bairns a kiss from their Nan.’
‘I will.’ Sonny looked at his brother. ‘Would you and Dusty like to come with me, stay at our place for a week? I don’t mind hanging on till she gets back.’
‘I’d like to,’ Dickie showed enthusiasm, ‘but maybe we’d better wait a while.
’
His mother caught the inference. ‘Eh! I don’t know why everyone should think I need taking care of as though I’m an invalid. I’ve been looking after you lot for years. Get yourselves off if you want to. Erin, a break might do you good as well.’
‘Aye, she’d no doubt feel better for breaking my neck,’ whispered Dickie to his brother.
If Erin heard then she made no riposte. ‘I’ve had a long enough break,’ she told her mother. ‘I’ve decided I’m off back to the factory tomorrow, if you’ll be all right?’
‘Will you behave!’ reproved Thomasin. ‘Anybody’d think I was senile.’ Her younger son asked when she might be returning to work. Her reply was apathetic. ‘I don’t know as I’ll bother. Not for a while, anyway. Maybe I’ll get together with Francis next week, just to check that I’m not on the verge of bankruptcy.’
‘Well, if you need any company all you have to do is pick up the telephone,’ Sonny told her.
Dickie excused himself to go upstairs and pack a few things for his stay in Leeds. ‘Get John to do that,’ his mother called after him. ‘That’s what he’s paid for, the lazy article.’
Dick replied that the man could polish the brass on the car, tarnished by January fog. It wouldn’t take him a moment to pack. Three minutes later, he answered a tap at his bedroom door with a shout of, ‘Come in!’ and looked surprised to see it was Erin.
‘I only knocked in case you were prancing about in the buff.’ His sister’s voice was chilly. ‘Not because you deserve the courtesy.’ She closed the door and came up to him.
‘Oh, do come in.’ Dickie gave a mocking flourish of his hand.
Dickie (Feeney Family Sagas Book 4) Page 14
