Dickie (Feeney Family Sagas Book 4)

by Sheelagh Kelly

  The boisterous Julia was calling. ‘Watch me! Watch, Aunt Dusty!’

  Erin smiled affectionately at the other woman’s reaction. ‘Ye want them very badly, don’t ye?’ With her sister-in-law’s nod, she regressed into memories. ‘People are so funny, aren’t they? I remember wanting a dozen babies when I first got wed, but if I couldn’t have had one, then I wouldn’t have wanted anyone else’s. I only wanted Sam’s – oh, Dusty, I’m sorry, that was cruel.’

  Every day, thought Dusty, every single day there’s someone who’ll remind you what a failure you are. But she employed the banal shield that had served her for many a year. ‘It doesn’t matter.’

  ‘Ah dear, I’ll never see Belle in a wedding gown. And I’ll never be a grandma … I’m grateful I’ve got her, though.’

  The brass horn of the gramophone fell silent. Dickie bowed to his adoring satellite, forsook her, and set his sights on Belle.

  Up until now the latter had been content just to watch the dancing. When Dickie approached she waved him away, blowing her red nose. As a result of the sudden drop in climate on her return from Africa she had incurred a heavy cold which she had passed to the children. The room hummed of camphor, completely drowning the scent of the bride’s sweet bouquet. ‘You deedn’t ibagine you can dance with every female in the roob and leave me as a last resort.’

  ‘Nonsense!’ cried Dickie. ‘’Twas merely a case of leaving the best until last.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Uncle, but I don’t dance.’ Belle glanced at Brian who was plucking tetchily at his pin-striped trousers. She tucked the sodden handkerchief back up her sleeve.

  ‘Everybody dances,’ responded her uncle. Discounting her refusal, he grabbed her and began to twirl, holding her much closer than either decency or his wife allowed.

  Feen was mortified. Neglecting the gramophone, she rushed off to her room. No one noticed until the voice on the record developed a low drawl and Sophia rushed over to wind it.

  Feen could have felt no more anger than Brian. His nostrils twitched as he put a match to his cigarette, but it was more than the sulphur that irritated. Belle had been watching her uncle all afternoon. Her mouth told Brian that he was being ridiculous, but her eyes spoke otherwise. He cast a look at Dusty. She was talking to Erin but her expression showed that he was not alone in his assessment of the situation. It made him even angrier. He looked back at the dancers. Belle and her uncle had vanished.

  Dusty saw the doctor craning his neck anxiously and wondered whether to tell him that she had just seen his beloved being danced out through the french windows. Instead, she decided to handle this herself.

  Brian became alert as Dusty stood, said something to her sister-in-law and the girls, then made for the french windows. He waited a few minutes after she had gone into the garden before following. On the terrace he shaded his eyes; the March sun held little warmth but reflected off the paving flags it was blinding. He peered down the garden, wondering which of the many paths Dusty had taken. She was nowhere to be seen. He set off along a route lined with spring bulbs, searching every bower along the way.

  Dickie had waltzed his niece all the way around the path that skirted the garden, humming a continuation of the tune. His niece, awkward in her surgical boot, gave up the protestations for him to stop, and made the best of things. While her aunt and Brian searched, she and her uncle were already re-entering the party, where the crackling record was just coming to its close. Catching her breath, Belle laughed and forced herself out of his embrace. ‘Oh no! You’re not doing that to me again. I’m going for a rest, and you should too at your age.’

  ‘Cheeky wench! I’ll be back for another one later.’ A smiling Dickie watched her limp exhaustedly to her seat, then decided to go and answer the call of nature.

  On finding an empty chair, Belle looked round, then went over to ask her grandmother, ‘Have you seen Brian, Nan?’

  Thomasin, having been thinking of her husband, looked askance. ‘He was there a minute ago, love.’

  Belle sat down, still trying to regain her breath. ‘Never mind. He’s probably in the garden. I’ll go and find him in a moment.’

  Brian had almost caught up with Dusty. He hung back, not wanting to admit to her that he harboured the same suspicion. At each secret cranny he watched her pause to listen for whispers. But the garden yielded nothing save the chirp of sparrows.

  She sauntered on, pausing uncertainly at the ice-house beneath the group of budding trees, ear cocked at the door. Brian shared her indecision: should she go in? Her hand hovered over the latch for a second, then pulled. The door fought against her, scraping the pebble-strewn ground. Brian held his breath as she went inside. But she emerged within seconds and, ramming the door on the frozen interior, marched on.

  He followed her right around the snaking path to the house. Instead of re-entering by the french windows, she took the front door: Brian did not know why, but copied her. When he edged round the door and into the hall she was nowhere to be seen … but Dickie was.

  Brian watched his carefree jog down the stairs, saw him pull his clothes into place. He ignored the bright greeting that Dickie gave on spotting him, uttering stiffly, ‘Can I have a private word with you, please?’

  ‘Sure!’ Dickie indicated his father’s study and, once they were in there, said, ‘What can I do for ye, Bri?’

  Brian clasped his hands behind his back and looked down at his spats. ‘I don’t know if you realise that Belle and I have more than just a platonic relationship?’

  ‘I gathered as much.’ Dickie grinned and gave him a conspiratorial tap on the shoulder. ‘Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.’

  “Oh, I don’t worry,’ replied Brian. ‘Not about that … however, one thing does concern me. I can understand that a man of your years might feel certain insecurities …’ The other’s smile began to fade. ‘… Might find the need to prove he’s still virile. Well, I can sympathise with that, but I’d prefer it if you practised on someone other than Belle.’

  ‘Wha… you… I don’t bloody believe what I’m hearing!’ Dickie was thunderstruck, but came to life now as Brian reached for the door. ‘Hey, just hold on a minute, you! Ye can’t go around accusing a man of that and then walk out!’

  ‘I’ve nothing further to add,’ said Brian curtly. ‘I just want you to keep your hands off Belle.’ Before Dickie could speak again, he had closed the door.

  Dickie stood there nonplussed. By the time he thought to go after Brian the hall was empty. He glared for a second through the open doors of the drawing room at the happy throng of guests, then decided it would be unwise to rejoin them in his present state. Charging up the stairs he burst upon his wife who had been examining their room in search of him.

  ‘Oh, there you are!’ She looked most annoyed.

  ‘That bloody little shit of a doctor!’ He slammed the door, then kicked at a piece of furniture. ‘D’you know what he’s just said to me?’

  ‘I can guess.’

  At her icy tone he looked at her more closely. ‘Bloody … ye don’t think… Christ!’ He strode about like one demented, cursing and swearing his disbelief. Dickie didn’t often get mad with her, but when he did it was quite a spectacle. He kicked at another piece of furniture, then changed tack, pleading, ‘Surely Dusty, you don’t think … ?’

  ‘How the hell do I know! But I am not prepared to sit down and watch the pair of you carry on as if there were no one else in the room!’

  His temper reboiled. ‘That’s bloody daft!’

  ‘It’s right!’

  ‘You were the one who told me to turn the charm on! I’m doing it for you, to get ye those kids.’

  ‘Well, you’re making too good a job of it, I want it to stop!’

  He saw her bunched fist and was quick to ward her off. ‘Don’t you dare mark my face for this weddin’!’

  With great difficulty she refrained from striking him, but said through clenched teeth. ‘Just you take heed.’

 
‘All right, all right! I won’t even bloody talk to her!’ He was still furious that anyone, especially Dusty, could believe he’d sink to such depths.

  ‘It’s not the talking I mind.’

  ‘Ye know your trouble?’ He pointed at her. ‘You’re too bloody possessive.’

  She was calmer now, though still dangerous. ‘All this anger worries me, Dickie. Usually when you’re found out you behave like a whipped dog.’

  ‘What’re ye talking about found out – there’s nothing going on, I tell ye. Oh … sod ye!’ He stormed from the room.

  Belle, having failed to find Brian, was investigating the hall and looked up at her uncle’s thumping descent. ‘Oh hello, have you see …’

  ‘Yes I have!’

  ‘What’s the matter?’ She came to the foot of the stairs. ‘The matter is, my dear,’ Dickie completed his descent and spoke right into her face, ‘your doctor friend has just accused me of having carnival knowledge of you.’

  Belle groaned. ‘I’ll kill him. Where is he now?’

  ‘I don’t know an’ I don’t care, but I would like to know how he got the impression that there was something between us.’

  Belle gaped at him. ‘You think I told him? You’ve got a nerve!’

  ‘He got it from somewhere!’

  Belle was furious. ‘Well, not from me!’

  Through the open doors of the drawing room, he saw heads beginning to turn towards the altercation. Erin came bustling out to hiss at them, ‘Do you two mind! There’s a wedding going on in here. What’s all the noise about?’

  Belle tore her steely eyes away from Dickie, saying to her mother, ‘Sorry … there’s just been a misunderstanding between Brian and my uncle.’

  ‘What about – and where is Brian?’

  ‘About the children’s adoption,’ said Belle, for want of another answer. ‘I have no idea where Brian is. In Hell for all I care. I’m not going to let him spoil the afternoon.’ She marched back into the drawing room.

  Erin narrowed her eyes at Dickie, then told him, ‘We’re about to throw the pennies to the children, are ye coming to watch?’

  Calming himself, he donned his normal devil-may-care expression. ‘Don’t mind if I do.’

  ‘Well, give Dusty a shout then.’ Erin went back into the room.

  A shovelful of coins had been warming over the coals. When Sonny ascertained that everyone was present he lifted the shovel and led a procession to the front door. Outside, a horde of ragged children were assembled, having being forewarned of the happening. With a whoop, Sonny tossed the shovelful of pennies high in the air – and what a scrambling and fighting and jostling did this provoke as the waifs tried to catch the hot pennies.

  ‘Oh, God, look at him!’ Dickie had caught sight of Frederick, who had sneaked into the crowd of children and was effortlessly collecting the coins – with the aid of gloves. ‘Dusty, come here an’ look at him!’ Apparently forgetting their argument, he pulled her forward, laughing at Fred’s ingenuity and shouting to everybody, ‘That’s my lad!’

  Sonny approached his wife, who guessed he had something funny to tell her from the hand that kept creeping to his mouth. He could hardly eject the words. ‘You know …’ he broke off to snigger, then began again. ‘You know when Dickie had that black eye and I made the joke about Dusty doing it? Well…’ he snorted again and tried to look straight-faced. ‘I think she really did do it!’ His shoulders shook and he turned his face to the wall lest Dickie read his mirth.

  Josie’s jaw dropped. ‘Aw, she never did!’

  He nodded, eyes watering. ‘I’ve just been upstairs and I heard him shouting – “Don’t you dare mark me for this wedding”!’

  The pair fell into clandestine giggles.

  * * *

  The wedding festivities continued until early evening. Belle asked Sally to take the children home to bed so that she could enjoy a supper with her family – though it was hardly enjoyable, knowing what was going through her Aunt Dusty’s mind every time Belle so much as looked at her uncle. Nevertheless, she stayed if only to avoid a row with Brian, who would most certainly have been waiting for her had she gone home earlier.

  By this time, ten o’clock, she calculated that he would have grown sick of hanging round.

  He hadn’t. When she entered her parlour there he was to greet her. Seeing him, she pulled up sharply, then marched on, easing off her gloves and slapping them onto the sideboard. ‘And what are you doing here?’

  He had risen, face contrite. ‘I’ve been waiting to see you.’

  ‘Oh really? Well, now you have done you can get out. Sally!’ she called into the kitchen. ‘Make some cocoa will you – for one.’

  ‘Belle …’ He tried to take her arm.

  She looked at him coldly. ‘I’m afraid if you require cocoa, Doctor, you’ll have to take it elsewhere.’

  His brown eyes pleaded. ‘I only did it because I care for you so much.’

  ‘Did what? Stormed off like a truculent child leaving me to escort myself home? A fine way of showing you care!’

  Brian lost his temper. ‘I’m sure there were plenty of volunteers to accompany you!’

  ‘Ah, so that’s why I find you here,’ she rasped. ‘Not to apologise but to learn which one of them might have jiggered me after you left.’

  ‘If you’re not prepared to talk about this sensibly …’

  ‘Sensibly! You accuse my uncle of…’ She uttered a mew of suppressed fury. ‘I can’t believe that you could think anything so despicable. If my mother could hear this …’

  ‘She probably saw it for herself! You were openly flirting with him!’

  ‘And where’s the sin in flirting? I’m twenty-six, not an old woman.’

  ‘So you admit it?’

  ‘Admit that he’s a very attractive man? That I find his attention flattering? Yes, I do. What’s wrong with that?’

  ‘Because I love you and it hurts me, that’s what’s wrong!’

  She studied his anguished face, and after a long hesitation, said, ‘I think we’ve come to the parting of the ways, Brian.’ He was too shocked to answer.

  ‘I just can’t cope with all this. I haven’t time to waste on answering these interrogations every five minutes. You knew how it was when we started this relationship.’

  Brian found his voice which emerged in a tone of disbelief. ‘I knew that you didn’t love me, yes! But I certainly didn’t think you were going to flaunt yourself at other men.’

  ‘I’m sorry if my bit of enjoyment has hurt you; it certainly wasn’t intended to. But I think it’s shown both of us how futile this relationship of ours is. The longer it continues the more you’re going to expect of me and the more you’re going to be hurt. You want too much, Brian … it’s better if we end it now.’

  ‘Oh, Belle …’ He clapped a hand to his dismayed brow, searching for an answer. ‘We can’t throw all these years away on something so… Look, just forget I came here tonight and what I said today. I was wrong and I’m sorry. Let’s just go back to what we had. I swear I won’t try and possess you. I love you.’

  She almost blushed for him. ‘Don’t grovel, Brian.’

  ‘Grovel!’ His eyes flew to hers. ‘I tell you I love you and want to keep you and you call it grovelling?’ He looked disgusted. ‘For someone who complains so much about people’s inhumanity to each other, you’re a cold cruel bitch sometimes.’ He spent three seconds glaring at her impassive face, then spun on his heel. ‘Goodbye, Belle.’

  She turned away uncaringly as he walked out.

  In the ensuing quiet, Sally opened the kitchen door a crack and peeped through. ‘Is it safe to come in with the cocoa?’

  ‘Damn the cocoa!’ Belle glanced at her, then sat down. ‘Sorry.’

  ‘What was it about this time?’ Sally being a friend as much as a nursemaid, was permitted this familiarity.

  Belle gave her a cynical look. ‘Missed the odd word, did we?’

  ‘Fancy accusing me of eaves
dropping!’ Sally put the cocoa on a tablemat.

  ‘I can see the impression of the keyhole on your cheek.’

  Sally raised an involuntary hand, then laughed. ‘If I were you I’d be flattered.’

  ‘Flattered that my employee cares enough about me to listen to all my private conversations?’

  ‘Tut! I mean that he’s jealous!’

  ‘And did you happen to catch what he was jealous about?’ said Belle. ‘I fail to see anything flattering in that.’

  ‘Well, I agree it was unthinkable but it shows how much he cares for you.’

  ‘I was already aware of that – that’s the trouble.’

  Sally gave another sound of irritation. ‘I don’t know! Most women’d be glad to have somebody like Doctor Dyson care for them. All you seem to want to do is drive him away. I can’t think why he keeps coming back.’

  ‘He won’t be back this time.’

  Sally studied the expressionless face. ‘I really don’t understand you. I mean, I know I’m not supposed to know what you and him get up to on a nighttime – but I am in the room next door, I can’t help what I hear … You must love him so much and yet you act …’

  ‘Why must I love him?’ demanded Belle.

  ‘Well, a woman doesn’t allow herself to be compromised like that if she doesn’t have passionate feelings for a fella.’

  Belle laughed pityingly and shook her head. ‘Sally, we’re living in the twentieth century now. A woman doesn’t have to pretend to all that romantic tosh just to satisfy her basic needs.’

  Sally’s brow furrowed. ‘But how can you …’ She didn’t mention sex by name, but a gesture showed her meaning, ‘… if you don’t love him?’

  Belle laughed again. ‘Because I enjoy it.’

  Shock flooded the nursemaid’s face. ‘Why, I think that’s … that’s disgusting!’ When Belle demanded why, she spluttered, ‘You’re supposed to love the person!’

  ‘Oh, come, Sally. Don’t tell me you never looked at a man and …’