Family of the Empire

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Family of the Empire Page 45

by Sheelagh Kelly


  Probyn was thinking about Greatrix – no memorial for him, nor even a proper grave – when he heard Grace sniff and noticed she was crying. Immediately he pulled out his handkerchief which she used to blow into then to wipe her eyes.

  ‘Sorry, I was just thinking it could be your name on there.’

  He tried to reassure her with a smile. ‘I doubt it, I’m not important enough.’

  ‘You know what I mean.’ She was gently scolding. ‘I don’t know what I’d do without you, Probe. I’ve never loved anyone quite so mu—’ Her face crumpled.

  He laid his hand over her mouth, would have liked to use his lips but a church was not the place for such a show. ‘I know, dear,’ he told her. ‘I feel the same, that’s why I’m making it my business to take extra special care of myself.’ It was true, he recognized his responsibilities towards her. ‘But don’t let things that might never happen cloud today’s happiness.’

  Nodding, a tearful Grace blew her pink nose and asked if she could keep the handkerchief.

  They were to leave the Minster then for a much smaller venue, St George’s Church, where Grace had prearranged for him to be interviewed by the priest, to whose officious questioning Probyn took great umbrage. Nevertheless, he remained cordial for Grace’s sake. He had told her he’d do anything for her and so he would. After answering all queries politely, it was arranged that he would meet regular appointments at the church to take Catholic instruction.

  From there it was on to the O’Brien household, perhaps an even bigger ordeal. However, he was to receive a lot fairer treatment than he suspected Grace would get from his family.

  ‘Well now, let me tell you, Probyn,’ said her eldest sister, Lizzie, at the outset. ‘Millie and Ellen and meself were not very pleased to learn that our sister was courting a soldier, neither is Fred here, even though he wants to be a soldier too, but we’re fond of her and we can tell you make her happy. Why, look at her face, God love her, it’d light up the room!’ She squeezed her youngest sister’s cheeks, causing Grace no end of embarrassment, before going on, ‘And we can see you’re serious by the fact that you’re willing to take instruction. So when all is said and done you have our blessing.’

  Inclining his head in gratitude, Probyn said he would do his best to maintain Grace’s happiness.

  ‘Right, now that’s out of the way can me and this poor lad have our bloody tea?’ begged Fred, telling Probyn he had been forced to sit here in his stiff collar all afternoon.

  Lizzie clipped him, but there was a lot of affection in the gesture and Probyn could honestly say as he sat down amongst them that he liked the O’Brien clan, especially Fred who he had expected to be the main hurdle but had in fact proved most amenable, although he was quick to recognize that this alliance was motivated by self-interest, Fred having secretly enquired if Probyn would help persuade his sisters to allow him into the army.

  ‘Well, that went better than I could have hoped,’ Probyn told Grace as they kicked their way through a brown blanket of sycamore leaves to the end of the street some hours later. ‘I only hope I have the same success with my lot.’

  ‘When will you tell them?’ She clung to his arm, gazing up at him fondly.

  ‘Well, I shall only want to do it once, so I need to have them all in one place. Aunt Kit’s invited everyone over for Christmas again—’

  ‘But that’s nigh on a month off!’

  ‘And it’s still too soon for me,’ said Probyn grimly. ‘You don’t know what they’re like.’ He kissed her pink nose. ‘But I promise, I’ll do it then.’

  * * *

  Deciding it would be less rash to test the ground with Kit first, the next time Probyn visited his aunt he made to broach the subject, making sure it was an afternoon when his beloved was not here laundering.

  ‘Are you coming out to help us milk the coos, Probe?’ asked little Toby, about to accompany his father to the shippon.

  ‘I’ll just finish me cup of tea,’ smiled his cousin. ‘And be with you anon.’

  Knowing him well, Kit sensed that he had something to discuss but could not think what it might be. However, she was soon to learn once they were alone.

  ‘It’s about me and Grace—’

  At the mention of that name Kit felt as if he had smote her. No it could not be!

  ‘We’re getting married.’ By his aunt’s horrified reaction he knew straight away how badly the rest would take it. Smile fading, he offered quiet reproof. ‘I thought you’d be pleased for me, Aunt.’

  ‘No you didn’t or you wouldn’t have kept it a secret!’ she countered accusingly.

  ‘It wasn’t a secret! You knew I was taking Grace out.’

  ‘Once! You’ve obviously seen a lot more of her since then.’ Kit’s heart was pounding.

  He gave no reply.

  ‘She’s only seventeen, Probe, and you’re twenty-five!’

  ‘Age makes no difference when you feel as we do about each other, besides we both know that’s not the real cause of your objection. For heaven’s sake, Grace has never even been to Ireland.’

  ‘That doesn’t make her any less Catholic.’

  He voiced exasperation. ‘Bloomin’ heck, Aunt, I don’t know what sort of fuss you’d be making if she were a black woman!’

  ‘Now you’re just being plain daft!’ sounded Kit.

  If only you knew, thought Probyn. If it had been an unconscious attempt to tell all, to confide in his worldly aunt who might be educated enough in these matters to inform him if his marriage to Emily was valid or not, then he would certainly not be confiding in her after that unmistakable outburst. But whatever her prejudices his aunt was fundamentally kind at heart and it was upon this trait that he made a foray now. ‘I was relying on you to help me coax the others into accepting her. If Grace is invited to Christmas dinner—’

  ‘Not in a million years!’

  He had never known his aunt to be so vicious. It saddened and offended him. ‘Then I won’t come either.’

  Kit bared her teeth in frustration. ‘Ooh, you know just how to get my back up you little demon! Have you stopped to think what your mother or father would have said?’

  It was Probyn’s turn to accuse. ‘That’s not fair, Aunt! Don’t go using them, it’s your objections we’re talking about here.’

  ‘Not just mine! How are you going to explain this to your sisters – light the blue touch paper and stand well back? Oh yes, it’ll be fireworks all right. Your Aunt Gwen’ll have to be told too.’

  ‘Be that as it may, I don’t see what you’ve got against her, Aunt. I mean, you employ the lass.’

  ‘Employ her, yes! I wouldn’t turn a needy person away, Irish or no, and she’s a good little worker, but I’d hoped for someone—’ Kit had been about to say, someone better for my favourite nephew, but at the look on Probyn’s face she could not bring herself to inflict further hurt. ‘Well, it’s your life I suppose,’ she finished tightly. ‘I hope you’ll be very happy.’

  ‘Well, that were very sincere, I must say.’

  Kit’s buxom body sagged. ‘Oh, I do mean it. Probe! I really do hope you’ll be happy, you’ve just given me an awful shock that’s all. It’ll take some getting used to.’

  ‘And will you start getting used to it by inviting Grace to your party?’ He sounded determined.

  Kit grimaced, and issued a reluctant nod, but thought silently what a dreadful event it was going to be.

  ‘Thank you.’ Looking calmly triumphant, Probyn said he would go out and help his uncle with the milking now.

  In his absence Kit shed a few tears, and later when he had gone back to barracks she was quick to gain a sympathetic ear.

  But Worthy was pragmatic, saying there was little she could do. ‘You wouldn’t have let anyone come between us would you, Katherine? And neither would I.’

  It was easy to counter this. ‘You’re not an Irish Catholic!’

  ‘Is that the only thing you’ve got against her?’ asked her husband.

/>   ‘Isn’t that enough?’ Kit’s indignant expression faded into woe. ‘And apart from anything else she’s such a … such a brown person!’

  ‘Anybody would be beside you.’ Worthy had never been one to mince words.

  ‘Cheek! You’re as bad as our Gwen. Eh, I dread to think what grief she’s going to cause the lad!’

  ‘All the more reason why he needs our support then.’ Worthy stood firm. ‘What’s done is done, if Probe loves the lass who are we to say he can’t marry her?’

  For once Kit could not be persuaded to see beyond her own prejudice, in answer wailing, ‘But how am I going to make the transition from her being my laundress to a member of the family? I just can’t, Worthy. It’s the way I was brought up. It was drummed into us over and over that we didn’t mix with Catholics, I can’t throw it all aside as easy as changing the sheets.’ She heaved a sigh. ‘But … you’re right on one count, I must give him all the support I can, even if I don’t like it. I don’t like it one bit.’

  * * *

  It was most unsettling, thought Kit, having them arrive in clusters, introducing each of them to Grace O’Brien, seeing them eye her up and down and reading their unspoken question: why was she here?

  Naturally it was Gwen who voiced it, no sooner handing over her old-fashioned camphor-reeking bonnet than demanding in a loud whisper to Kit, ‘Since when have you been given to entertaining the Irish?’

  But this was quickly brushed over, Kit maintaining her happy banter and keeping them all entertained as she showed them to the table, talking incessantly so as not to give Gwen another chance to ask.

  For Probyn and his bride-to-be the meal was less than wholesome, knowing the ordeal that was to come at the end of it. But Corporal Kilmaster was not a man to shirk his duty and after the flaming Christmas pudding had been devoured he stood resolutely, glass in hand. ‘I’d like to propose a toast to Aunt Kit for giving us this superb dinner!’

  ‘Hear, hear!’ Everyone raised their glasses, Kit smiled and nodded but looked as if she would like the earth to swallow her up, and was deeply grateful to Worthy for the supportive grip on her hand.

  Probyn remained on his feet. Stomach gurgling, he blurted, ‘Now, you’ve probably guessed that Grace and I have an announcement to make, so I’ll not make any long speeches. We’re getting married next summer.’

  A deathly hush fell over the table, each face as shocked as the next.

  Rhoda was the first to recover, a note of horror in her exclamation. ‘But you can’t! She’s a … well, she must be, with a name like O’Brien!’

  ‘A Catholic?’ said Probyn lightly, concealing his impatience. ‘Yes, and so am I now. I’ve been taking instruction.’

  Everyone looked accusingly at Kit who held up her hands and retorted, ‘Nay don’t look at me, it’s none of my doing!’

  Whereupon they launched into a full attack on their brother, even Meredith. ‘How could you do this Probe? How could you do it to Mother’s memory?’

  ‘I’d better go.’ Head down, young Grace pushed herself from the table.

  ‘Not before you’ve had an apology,’ Probyn told her, glaring at the assembly.

  But everyone remained tight-lipped and looked away, except Kit.

  Her voice was softly apologetic. ‘I’m sorry. Grace, I really am, you’re a nice lass and we’ve nothing against you but, well, Probyn’s mother and father believed in like marrying like and we’ve been brought up to believe the same. Under any other circumstances—’

  But Grace was already on her way to the door, with the parting shot that Mrs Treasure could find herself another laundress.

  Probyn remaining only long enough to tell his relatives what he thought of them. ‘You’re a bunch of blasted bigots!’

  17

  After the distressing time Grace had suffered at the hands of Probyn’s family, his commanding officer was lenient in comparison, taking great pains to welcome her and put her at ease, although he did stress that she was the fortunate one for landing a soldier for a husband.

  Nevertheless, she was grateful for his kindness, for she had anticipated a much loftier attitude and, with the confirmation that living quarters would be made available for the future Mrs Kilmaster, Grace was now at liberty to make plans for their wedding.

  Though, ‘It’s going to be a very one-sided affair with only my relatives present,’ she told Probyn. ‘Are you sure you wouldn’t like to invite yours?’

  ‘They’ve made their feelings plain,’ he said firmly.

  ‘Not even Meredith, or your Aunt Kit?’

  Her husband-to-be was quiet. They were sitting in the front room of the O’Brien house, the only one that held hospitality to the pair. He had not been to see Kit since their last exchange several months ago, nor had he heard from her. His feelings towards her were mixed. She had always supported him in the past and he had great affection for her, but there was also great hypocrisy in her stance: having borne two illegitimate children she was hardly the one to throw stones. And to speak in such a manner to the woman he loved had reduced her considerably in his eyes.

  Young as she was, Grace understood his reasons. ‘Don’t deprive yourself of their company for my sake.’

  Probyn grasped her hand and held it lovingly. ‘By, you’re an unselfish soul, Gobbie. I’m sure I wouldn’t be so charitable if the boot was on the other foot.’

  ‘Well, your aunt said it all, did she not? It’s the way they were brought up, you can’t really blame them.’

  ‘I was brought up the same way—’

  ‘But you’ve taken off your blinkers.’ Grace coaxed him with a gentle nudge. ‘Go on, invite them to our wedding.’

  ‘Well … all right.’ His reluctance overcome, he kissed her. ‘I might invite Aunt Kit and Merry – but I’m definitely not inviting the others!’

  With the marriage arranged for July, two extra invitations were hurriedly despatched. Alas, one of them turned out to be a waste of time. Meredith regretted that it was too far to travel from Huddersfield for one day and, besides, she could not possibly attend a wedding if none of her sisters were included, but thanked Probyn and Grace for their thoughtful gesture and wished them every happiness. That the sentiment was genuine Probyn did not doubt, but her biased refusal left him with a very nasty taste and he resolved never to contact her or any of his sisters again.

  The same might have applied to Aunt Kit, had she and her husband and small son not turned up at the church as requested. Yet, although relieved and glad to see her, Probyn knew now where his loyalties must lie. Things would never be quite the same again between them.

  It was a small affair, with only a handful of fellow soldiers to balance Grace’s family on the other side of the aisle. It was difficult not to be reminded of another time, another chapel, far away. But upon seeing his bride in her virginal dress all memory of Emily evaporated. This was his right and true marriage.

  They made a handsome couple, everybody was quick to agree as the wedding party made its way back to the O’Brien household for tea and sandwiches. Even Aunt Kit paid compliment, though the bride and groom could not fail to be aware of how uncomfortable she a felt and it was obvious she was only here because of her husband’s tacit insistence. Grace’s relatives found Probyn and his guests odd in their reserve, and in turn Probyn’s kin found them overpowering. Much as Kit had enjoyed dancing in her youth they were too much even for her, and she was the first to voice intention to leave.

  Sad though he was, Probyn refused to allow this to blight his special day. Besides, there were more important things on his mind. Longing in his eyes, he whispered to Grace after everyone else save those who lived here had departed, ‘We should be making a move too.’

  Returning his affectionate gaze, she began to collect her belongings and soon both were at the door.

  ‘What about me shirt for tomorrow morning?’ asked Fred.

  ‘There’s a clean one in the top drawer,’ Grace told him. ‘I’ll be round on Friday to co
llect your washing.’

  ‘Who’s going to get me tea ready?’

  ‘Mrs Onions said she’ll feed you during the week.’

  Fred demurred the support of his neighbour. ‘I don’t like her gravy, she serves it by the slice.’

  ‘Ah well, you can come to us on Saturday and Sunday,’ promised Grace.

  ‘Isn’t there a tram that runs from Fulford in the afternoons? You could do my tea and still get back in time to do Probe’s. I don’t mind it being kept warm on the stove till I come in, rather that than get indigestion.’

  Having always looked after him, Grace was torn. ‘Well, I’ll see what I can do. Take care now.’ And she left for her new home.

  ‘Why can’t he do it himself?’ asked her husband as they made their way down the dingy street.

  ‘Fred cook a dinner?’ Grace laughed. ‘He’s a man isn’t he?’

  ‘So am I but I can take care of meself. He wouldn’t last five minutes in the army.’

  Grace changed the subject, gasping, ‘Oh look, a motor car!’ And Probyn broke off his condemnation of her brother to watch in admiration as the glossy vehicle chugged down the street with half a dozen ragged boys galloping excitedly behind.

  But this rare spectacle had not deterred him as she had hoped and once it had disappeared around the corner he continued, ‘You won’t be able to run around after Fred once we’ve got a family. I’m not sure I like you doing it now.’

  ‘I don’t mind.’ Grace hugged his arm, thinking how marvellous he looked in his scarlet dress uniform, how proud she was to be Mrs Kilmaster.

  ‘Lazy article. Oh my goodness and here’s another!’ Probyn’s face lit up as he almost collided with the man who had just emerged from a side street. ‘Mick! How are you? How long have you been back in England?’

  ‘Pa!’ Mick shook him strenuously by the hand, his ruddy face wearing that familiar welcoming beam. ‘I was coming over to the barracks to look you up. I’m just off to see me aunty first.’

 

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