by Dorothy Eden
If only she would go away. Now that she could think a little more clearly Cathleen realized that Miss O’Riordan must be afraid Cathleen would murmur something in her sleep, something someone else may hear and misinterpret. A silly story about finding a baby’s shoe…
Do you think we shut it in an empty room and starve it…
The remembered fragment of conversation set Cathleen’s heart thumping. Then the thumping extended to her head and a pendulum beat painfully against her temples. She had to close her eyes in protest…
And the whistle came out of the darkness, the sweet liquid sound…
There’s a colleen fair as may,
For a year and for a day…
Cathleen started up wildly in the hot bed.
“The tinker!” she cried. “The tinker’s back!”
The room was almost dark. Miss O’Riordan’s shape was a thin shadow.
“What tinker, Mrs. Lamb?”
“The one—who whistled. Listen?”
The sound had moved from outside her window and grown fainter. She could scarcely hear it. It died away altogether. Then gaily it grew loud again as footsteps came down the passage.
And if tis heaven’s decree
That mine she may not be,
I’ll never from the fair with life return…
Cathleen was clutching Miss O’Riordan’s bony hand.
“It’s the tinker! He’s not dead at all!”
She felt the dry hand within hers tense. The door began to open. It was so dark that Cathleen could just discern the tall figure, the shock of dark hair, the gleam of white teeth.
“Well,” said Rory. “How is she?”
Cathleen felt the tense fingers in hers relax.
“Only woken up in a state by all that noise you made,” Miss O’Riordan said severely. She stood up. Cathleen had the impression that she was soothing feathers that had ruffled in fright.
“Are you feeling better?” asked Rory, coming over to the bed.
Cathleen stared up into his dark face.
“That was the tinker’s song you were whistling.”
“That? It’s an old Irish ballad. The Snowy-breasted Pearl. I’m sorry. Did I startle you?”
“You did.”
“She isn’t fit for visitors yet, Rory.”
Rory turned to his aunt.
“She needs a cup of tea. Why don’t you go and make her one?” He sat on the side of the bed. “I’m not a visitor.”
“The doctor gave strict instructions—”
Rory interrupted her firmly. “Go and make that tea, Aunt Tilly. I’m not going to upset the patient.” He got up and flung open the window. “I’m only going to let her breathe,” he said.
The mild evening air drifting on to her face was like a balm. Cathleen breathed deeply, relaxing. She was aware of the brief battle of wills that went on between the two. Then Aunt Tilly gave a snort and said angrily, “I suppose you think you know best. I’m the one who’s stayed awake for twenty-four hours.”
“Then you need tea, too,” said Rory. “Run along.”
Aunt Tilly stalked away, muttering. Rory strolled back to the bed.
“I’m not going to upset you, Cathleen, but if you can, tell me what happened last night.”
It was easy enough to tell him, because he listened so intently, not indicating whether or not he believed her, but at least not deriding her story.
“You’re sure about this baby’s shoe?” he said at last.
“Yes. Your aunt suggests I’ve been associating it with my own baby and it’s a kind of wishful thinking. But I am sure.”
“You didn’t catch a glimpse of the person who—collided with you?”
He had been going to say “pushed you.” Cathleen’s breath caught for a moment, knowing he had almost put into words what she hadn’t even dared to admit to herself.
“Not a sign. It happened so suddenly. He—the person—must have come out of the room just behind me. I didn’t even hear a door open. But I did have the shoe in my hand, Rory. I did!”
He sat silent, his face telling nothing.
Then he said, almost irrelevantly, “By the way, if you’re worried about that fracas over Peter Brady, the boy’s all right. I went to Dublin yesterday and saw him.”
“That’s where you went!”
His brows lifted ironically.
“Nice of you to notice I was away. Yes, I finally tracked down the Brady family. It took me eight hours. But the story was perfectly true. The father’s a drunkard, and the mother—I’ll give her the benefit of the doubt. She’s warm-hearted enough. It seems they thought Peter might have a better chance it he were brought up in a religious atmosphere, but then they changed their minds. Brady said his wife was fretting for the boy. So rather than face the nuns who make him nervous, he planned a spot of kidnapping. Thoroughly enjoyed it, the rascal.”
Cathleen was gripping his arm.
“Rory, is that all?”
He looked down at her.
“No. It isn’t all. But there’s nothing in it to concern you. And I’ve also been over the west wing. The rooms are all empty.”
“Now, of course,” said Cathleen. She searched his face. “Didn’t you find anything at all?”
“I didn’t get home until midnight. By that time the fuss was all over.”
“Oh, I see. By then there’d have been time—that’s if I believe you.”
“Believe what you choose. But one thing you’d better do, and that is get away from here.”
“She’s going,” came Miss O’Riordan’s voice from the door.
The old lady came in carrying a teatray. She put it down with deliberation, and went on calmly, “As soon as she can stand on her feet, she’s going.”
Cathleen began to sit up.
“But what about the book?”
“I’ll have to make other arrangements.”
“Aren’t I satisfactory? Are you dismissing me?”
“I am. You haven’t the right temperament. No one told me you had this distressing obsession.”
“What obsession?”
“About that tiresome infant of yours which you lost. I’d suggest a little psychiatric treatment before you attempt another job. Now don’t get upset. My advice is meant for your own good.”
Not get upset when she was accused of being crazy! The anger flaming in Cathleen made the pain in her head so violent that she collapsed back on to the pillows.
You crafty old devil! she said. You’re getting rid of me because I’ve stumbled on one of your secrets. And then you have the nerve to accuse me of being crazy.
She realized that none of the words had been said. Her lips refused to move. She could only stare up at the two faces above her, the one long-nosed, pallid, wickedly triumphant, the other—ah, no, Rory, you can’t do that to me. You can’t put me through all the anguish of coming back to life and then look sorry for me.
As if he read her thought, he turned abruptly and went out. Miss O’Riordan said firmly,
“Now, Mrs. Lamb, pull yourself together. Don’t tell me you’ve been falling in love with my nephew Rory. That wouldn’t do at all. Not at all.”
Not at all, not at all… The words faded and swelled and faded in her mind. She must have fallen asleep, or lost consciousness, for when she opened her eyes after what seemed to be only a moment her bedside light was on, and the curtains were drawn. And Liam was sitting beside her.
It was an enormous relief to see that Miss O’Riordan had gone. Cathleen smiled at Liam.
“I feel better.”
“Splendid. That was quite a fall you had.”
Cathleen moved cautiously, realizing for the first time her aching limbs. The pain was like an orchestra, the crashing drumbeats in her head now having subsided, the gentler more bearable sound of taut, strained muscles and nerves could be heard.
“Nothing’s broken, is it?”
“No, lucky for you. We thought your skull was, at first. It really serves you righ
t, you know, going prowling about like that in the dark.”
He had taken one of her hands in his and was gently stroking it. His fingers were soft-skinned, but curiously dry and hot, as if he were the one with a fever. Cathleen noticed the brightness of his eyes, too.
“You’ve been worried about me,” she said.
“You can say that again. But all’s well that ends well. Aunt Tilly says you want to go back to England.”
“Does she?”
“Do you know, that’s not a bad idea, because I’ll be coming over shortly. I want to finish Red’s training in England and get him thoroughly acclimatized. I’m going to sell the two colts and probably Macushla, if I can get a good enough offer for her, and sink everything on Red’s chances.”
His fingers gripped hers.
“Meet me in London, Cathleen. I want you to. I love you. You do love me a little, don’t you?”
Cathleen tried to concentrate, not on what he was saying but on the meaning beneath it. Was he planning to leave Loughneath Castle, to abandon Aunt Tilly and Rory to their secrets and start a new life in England?
Was this why he seemed so excited and feverish, his blue eyes blazing beneath their arched black brows? If he loved her, couldn’t he do so here? Why had it to be in London?
“Why, of course I’ll meet you in London some time,” she said vaguely. “As it happens, your aunt—”
She never finished telling him that she was being ignominiously dismissed because at that moment Kitty burst into the room, moving more quickly than Cathleen had ever seen her move.
Her face was flaming, her eyes wild.
“Don’t you dare do that, Liam! Don’t you dare!”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
LIAM TURNED IN SURPRISE.
“Goodness, Kitty, what do you think I’m planning to do?”
“You’re planning to go to England with this woman and leave me here.”
“Don’t call Cathleen ‘this woman,’” Liam said irritably. “And I’m not doing anything of the kind. I’m merely going to see a little of Cathleen when I’m there. Permissible?”
He was smiling placatingly, humouring Kitty who was so startlingly being a termagant. “Come now, you knew I was going to run Red in the Grand National.”
“That doesn’t mean going over months in advance!”
“Not months. But quite a time if the thing’s to be done properly.”
Kitty’s eyes smouldered.
“You mean you’ll never come back.”
“Good heavens, whatever put that thought into your funny little head. You are in a state. Isn’t she, Cathleen? Doesn’t she look pretty like this? You know, if you stopped being so shy and nervous, Kitty, you’d have quite a lot of the O’Riordan looks.”
“You’re only saying that! You’ve never meant any of the things you’ve said to me, except to get your own way. You don’t care for me at all.”
“Kitty! Kitty! I adore you.” He put his hands at either side of her waist, and looked down at her indulgently. “You’re cute and I’d never leave you. I promise. If I go to England for more than a month I’ll send for you. If Red wins the National we’ll set London on fire. The handsome Liam O’Riordan and his charming sister…”
He was talking, to her soothingly, beguilingly, almost like a lover… The anger was going out of Kitty. She sagged against him. She seemed about to burst into tears.
Then she said inexplicably, “Aunt Tilly always hated me. It’s her fault I never had an operation for my hip. She was afraid mother would like me better than you. If I were a cripple, if mother could be made to believe that the operation would make the trouble much worse, then she might—she might do more for you. You were always Aunt Tilly’s pet.”
Liam put his fingers over her lips.
“Shut up. You’re talking nonsense. It was Cathleen who cracked her head, not you. And we shouldn’t be upsetting her. Come along, there’s a good girl. I’ll get you a drink. Forgive us, Cathleen. I’ll come back later.”
Cathleen closed her eyes. If she wasn’t crazy already this family was making her so.
“I’d just like to be alone,” she said wearily.
Alone to take out Kitty’s jealousy and turn it over, pondering its significance, the hold it had on Liam… Who, perhaps, was just naturally kind-hearted to his handicapped sister, as he always had been, to inspire such devotion in her. Who surely couldn’t be afraid of her…
The gentle tap on the door made her start. Who in this house, would have the courtesy to knock at the door of an invalid?
“Come in,” she said, and as if this were a film in which all the characters had to make a final bow, Magdalene Driscoll came in.
“The old bitch—sorry—Miss O’Riordan—didn’t want to let me come up, but Rory said I could. I won’t stay. You must be feeling terrible.”
Cathleen tried to laugh.
“I don’t which is the worst, coping with a cracked skull or this family.”
“I know. I do know.”
Although Magdalene’s face was too thin and sharp her eyes were beautiful, deep and sincere and full of light.
“Listen, I just thought you’d like to know that it’s true Rory was with me the other night until pretty late.”
“The night the tinker was drowned?”
“Yes. I see you know what I mean. I’m not giving him an alibi because he doesn’t need one. We were talking about a lot of things. And another thing, I’m not in love with him. Maybe I could be, but it wouldn’t be much use. He’s in love with someone else.”
She shrugged, her mouth turned down philosophically. “I just thought I’d tell you. Now look after yourself. Don’t be scared away by the old bee in a bottle. This place has had happy days as well as bad ones, you know.”
“But I’m leaving anyway,” Cathleen said.
“Are you then? What a pity. Then take your time getting well enough to travel.”
She went to the door, giving a little wave of her hand. Her face was gay.
“Goodbye now. Good luck.”
“But the baby!” Cathleen cried passionately.
Magdalene paused. “Forget it. Shamus never had a child.”
It was at this stage that Cathleen knew she must be delirious. Could all those people have been in her room and said so many strange things to her? She must sleep, and wake clear-headed. Otherwise she would never know what had been going on, never find out about the baby’s shoe. Oh, the little shoe, so forever empty because Debby…
There were tears on her cheeks as she fell asleep. She didn’t know who else came in to look at her, but someone did, because when she woke much later the light had been turned out and the room was so quiet it was heaven.
The door handle was rattling softly.
“Mrs. Lamb! Mrs. Lamb, are you awake?”
It was the voice of Peggy Moloney with its caressing brogue. It was just growing light. Cathleen sat up, feeling weak but marvellously clear-headed. Whatever sedatives she had been filled with yesterday had worn off, and now she could think again.
“Come in, Peggy.”
“I can’t. The door’s locked.”
Cathleen started up.
“It can’t be.”
“Did you lock yourself in? I don’t blame you.”
To her great relief, Cathleen found she was able to walk. She was stiff and sore, but mobile.
It was true enough that the door was locked, and that the key had been taken away. What had they been afraid she might do? Prowl again, stumble on things she shouldn’t know?
Peggy, on the other side of the door, was giggling, but with a touch of hysteria.
“It’s Miss O’Riordan,” she whispered through the keyhole. “She said she was going to sit with my patient all night. She couldn’t be in two places at once. I suppose she thought you might tumble down a staircase again.”
“It’s monstrous,” said Cathleen angrily. “Why does she have to sit with Mrs. O’Riordan anyway?”
“Because t
he poor thing’s been trying to talk. She’s been saying that ‘lie, lie’ again. The old dragon is afraid she might miss something if she goes away. She’s fallen asleep sitting up in her chair so I slipped down to see you. I wanted to come yesterday and look after you, but they wouldn’t let me.”
“I’m not going to be locked in,” Cathleen said fiercely. “I won’t stand it. I’ll wake the whole house.”
She began rattling the doorknob and thumping with her fists.
Peggy giggled again on the high note of hysteria.
“Be careful, Mrs. Lamb. After concussion you’re supposed to rest.”
“But not to be kept a prisoner! Peggy, go and wake someone.”
“Sure,” said Peggy doubtfully. “Who?”
A door opened somewhere and there were footsteps.
“You don’t need to wake anyone, nurse. I’ve got the key.”
It was Kitty’s voice, cold and hostile.
“I don’t know what you’re doing down here disturbing Mrs. Lamb so early.”
“I don’t know why she has to be locked in,” Peggy retorted.
“Because she was wandering in her head last night. It was for her own safety.”
The door opened and both girls stood there.
“How are you feeling, Mrs. Lamb?” Peggy asked solicitously. “You don’t look so bad now.”
“No. I’m much better.”
“The doctor said you had to rest,” Kitty said stonily.
“I have. I’ve slept for about forty hours.”
“But however did you fall down those stairs?” Peggy asked. “Had you been having something out of Miss O’Riordan’s bottle—” She clapped her hand to her mouth, looking at Kitty.
Cathleen answered very soberly, “I wasn’t drunk, I was pushed.”
“Pushed!” Now Peggy was too startled to worry about her previous levity.
“She stumbled in the dark,” said Kitty coldly. “Ask my aunt. She found her. You see, we weren’t joking when we said it had affected her head. Pushed, indeed!”
It was not the first fall she had had, Cathleen was thinking. There had been the other one, off Macushla who had been startled. She made a shot in the dark.
“Have you always been jealous of Liam’s girl-friends?” she asked Kitty. “I can’t be the first one he’s looked at. What did you do about the others? Did you succeed in driving them away?”
