The Dwelling Place, page 34
It was around two o’clock in the morning, when the crisis was at its height, that she spoke his own name. ‘Matthew! Matthew!’ she said, and he soothed her and whispered, ‘Yes, my love?’ And then she said, ‘Clive. Poor Clive.’
When she pushed her hand up towards his face he gripped it in both of his and brought it down to his breast, and when again she said, ‘Clive. Poor Clive,’ he dropped his teeth tight down on to his lip.
Her coughing began to rack her body, and the beat of her heart raced against him as he had felt no heart race before, and the sweat ran from her pores and soaked him, and he began to use Parson Hedley’s prayers, together with his own form of bargaining, beseeching the Almighty not to take her and promising Him payment in return. He could ask anything of him and he would do it, if only He wouldn’t take her.
When he became aware of the four girls standing around him he knew that some time had passed for he hadn’t heard them come. He also became aware that his calves were in an excruciating cramp and his left arm was dead with numbness and that his shirt was stuck to his back and his own body was running sweat. He stared down at the head lying on his arm and for a moment he thought she was gone. Then she made a sound in her throat and phlegm came out of her mouth, and he withdrew his arm and laid her back on the pillow; and more time elapsed while he and the children stared at her. Then Annie’s weeping forced its way into his mind, and he turned to her, he turned to them all and said, ‘She’ll be all right, it’s over.’
At eight o’clock the next morning when he made his way into the mill yard Straker said to him, ‘What’s happened to the missis?’ and he stared at the man a whole minute before he asked, ‘Isn’t she back?’
The answer seemed to surprise Straker, for he said, ‘You knew she was out then?’
Again he didn’t answer immediately, but his mind was moving fast. If she hadn’t come back she had been out there all night, likely fallen into a drift, and that would mean—he wouldn’t even let his thoughts pronounce the words, but if Straker knew the reason why she had gone out in a blizzard then there’d be talk, dangerous talk. He said now, ‘Of course I knew she was out; she brought some soup over. I was with a friend who’s got pneumonia. I told her I was stayin’ the night. She…she left about nine. Have you been indoors?’
‘Aye.’ Straker shook his head now. ‘I went in the kitchen. The fire was still banked down, the breakfast wasn’t set. I thought it was funny. I called upstairs and when I got no answer I went up and knocked.’
He now hurried towards the house, saying over his shoulder, ‘I’ll change me things, they’re wet, then we’ll go and look.’
In the kitchen it was as Straker said; and he stood now gripping his chin tight in his hand. Then he went swiftly to the fireplace and picked up the kettle that was bubbling gently against the banked-down fire and brewed himself some tea; and after he had hurriedly changed his clothes he gulped the tea quickly, then went out again.
Straker was waiting for him in the yard, and the old man said, ‘Where will we look first?’
‘We’ll keep to the road,’ he said, ‘to the turnpike, then cut up on the fell. That’s the way she came.’
They did this, and it took them two hours before they came in sight of the habitation. But there was no sign of Rose. Nor when other searchers joined them and spent the day in the blizzard did they find her; they didn’t find her until the third day when the snow had ceased falling and the gale-force wind, whirling fanatically, made unnatural valleys and hills all over the fell. It was the barking of a sheepdog that drew the searchers to the quarry. And there they saw, uncovered by the wind, the body of the miller’s wife still clinging to her lantern. She must have slipped off the edge and tumbled to the bottom; and being stunned, she had frozen to death, then was buried by the drifts.
It wasn’t until after her funeral when the mourners had gone and only his mother, his grandmother and his aunt remained that he allowed himself to realise that he was free, and what this meant. It was his mother who actually forced the realisation to the surface, for during the five days Rose had lain in the parlour he had told himself he must try and do the decent thing. For the time she lay in the house he mustn’t allow himself to think of the future. It was there shining bright, but he couldn’t open the door to it until she was in her grave. And now even then; there was the period of respect to be maintained…And then his mother had said, ‘We’ll move over the morrow.’
He had been sitting to the side of the fireplace while they were at the table picking at the remains of the ample refreshments that had been provided, and he was turning his head slowly towards them when she added, ‘I won’t bring the beds, just odds and ends.’ Putting his hands on the arms of the chair and slowly pushing himself upwards he looked at her and said, ‘What was that you were saying?’
‘We’ll move over the morrow.’
‘You’ll move over the morrow?’
‘Are you deaf? That’s what I said.’
‘No, I’m not deaf; and yes, that’s what you said. But that’s not what’s going to happen.’ His voice was slowly rising now. ‘You’re not moving over here the morrow, or at any other time.’
They were all staring at him and he swept his eyes from one to the other. ‘Get that into your head, all your heads. I don’t need you here, I don’t want you here, you’re stayin’ where you are.’
‘Who’s going to look after you?’ His mother was on her feet now facing him.
‘There’s Peggy; she’ll cook for me.’
‘She can’t run the house, and she’s only a servant; you’ve got to have somebody to run this…’
‘Aye, I’ll have to have somebody to run this place, Mother, but it’s not going to be you.’
She pressed her lips together, wagged her head from side to side, pushed out her chest, then cried at him, ‘Now look you here!’ But before she had finished he was bellowing at her, ‘And look you here. And this is the last time we’ll talk about it. You’re not comin’ into this house, Mother, nor you, Gran, nor you, Aunt Millie. And something else I’m going to tell you. I don’t want you even here visitin’, and if you put your foot back after the day do you know what I’ll do? I’ll turn you out of where you are now, family or no. Ted Joyce’s cottage is vacant at the end of the village. I own that. There’s three rooms there an’ that should be enough for you, and that’s where you’ll end up if you don’t do as I say. Arthur Spragg is after the business, he wants to start his son up in it. He’s been at me this last few months to sell him it, but he wants the house with it. He’s offered me a decent price an’ all. Now I hadn’t any intention of telling you this but now I am telling you. You try to interfere with my life from now on and you’ll end up in Joyce’s cottage, the lot of you, and with your money cut down into the bargain.’
‘You’re unnatural.’ It was his grandmother speaking, and he turned on her and cried, ‘Aye, perhaps I am, but I’ve come from unnatural stock, from you and her.’ He bounced his head towards his mother now, and addressing her again he said, ‘You led me father hell for years. In a way he was glad when he broke his back and you couldn’t push him anymore. And you bullied and thrashed me from I was in petticoats. And since I’ve been a man you’ve tried to rule me life. But now it’s finished; I don’t care if I never set eyes on any of you again. Keep your noses clean and you can stay where you are, but should I hear anything like, say, detrimental to me character and I trace it back to you, you’ll be down at the end of the village as if a cuddy had kicked you. So I’m warning you.’
‘You’ll come to a bad end.’ His mother’s voice was low and trembling. ‘And she with you. I know why you don’t want us here. It’s ’cos of that trollop, that fell trollop. And another thing I’ll say when I’m on. I’ll bring it into the open; I wasn’t going to but I will now. You can’t tell me that Rose was taking that one soup, she had more likely gone to see what you were up to.’
He stared at her, then said slowly and deeply, ‘I’m warning you. Go home and think whether you want to end your days in Joyce’s cottage. And mind you, I don’t care a damn or a tinker’s cuss what people will say about me if I do it, but believe me, all of you’—he thrust his glance over them—‘that is what I’ll do should you open your mouth about me or my business in the future. Just one whisper, that’ll be enough to come back to me. Now get your things on and get yourselves away.’
A minute or two later they came walking out of the parlour in single file, dressed for the road, and like three witches they stared at him. But none of them spoke, except with their eyes. They went out, and not until he heard the cart crunching across the yard did he move.
Slowly he began a tour of the whole house, going from room to room, and finishing up in the attics. The place was silent, empty, but he comforted himself it wouldn’t remain that way for long, for he’d soon have her here, have them all here.
How long would he have to wait? The decent time would be a year; but, God above, a year was a long time. He wouldn’t wait a year, perhaps nine months; no, six. There’d be talk if he did it in six, but damn the talk.
He did it in three.
Thirteen
It was a day in early April. The sky was high, the sun was shining, the wind was fresh but not cold. It was the first day in the year that you could go outside and not shudder.
They had all been up since dawn; in fact, the children, like herself, had hardly slept. They had put on their new grey serge frocks and shining black boots and they had tied their hair with bright new hair ribbons and were ready two hours before the cart was expected.
Cissie had not put on her best clothes straight away but had busied herself with tying up their ordinary clothes and the bedding in bundles, stacking the crockery in the basket that had been a cradle, and putting everything they were taking to the side of the door for easy fetching. And not until all was ready, with the exception of one last thing she had to do, did she dress herself for her wedding.
When she was attired in a grey alpaca dress with a cape to match, a blue straw bonnet resting on her brown hair, and a pair of black buttoned boots on her feet, she went to the top drawer of the chest and took out the long envelope and looked at it. The letter that had accompanied the envelope when she had first received it she had burned last night, and this morning when Mr Cunningham came she would hand him back these deeds that he had brought when she was ill, and then it would all be ended, at least outwardly.
When she heard the children talking, not laughing and shouting, she knew Mr Cunningham had arrived, and when he came in through the door he stopped and surveyed her and she felt herself blushing.
‘How becoming. How very becoming.’ He kept moving his head slowly up and down as he advanced towards her; then gallantly he said, ‘You didn’t need anything to enhance you, but your dress has insisted upon it.’
She smiled shyly. She liked this man, she liked him very much. ‘Will you take a seat?’ she said. ‘We’re all upside down.’
Placing two packages he had been carrying on the table, he indicated that she be seated first, and when he sat down and his eyes had dropped to the envelope in her hand, she held it out to him, saying, ‘I would like you to give that back to His Lordship, and thank him very much. As I said the other day I won’t have any use for either after this.’
Cunningham now joined his hands together and leaned towards her and said quietly, ‘I conveyed your message to His Lordship and he has told me to say to you the matter is out of his hands, the young master left the business arrangements with the solicitors Weir and Dixon, and it is with them you must deal. But, as His Lordship pointed out, they will be unable to do anything further about the matter until Master Clive returns—and the Virago might be away for years.’ He paused now and surveyed her with a gentle expression before he said, ‘May I offer you my own advice? You see, one never knows what is going to happen in life; circumstances change. What we reject today we long for tomorrow. So my advice to you is simply to keep them by you—they will eat no bread.’
It was his homely statement ending his pedantic way of speaking that made her smile at him and say after a moment of pondering, ‘Perhaps you’re right; but I’ll have to put them to one side, out of sight, for Matthew’ll have none of them. Still, I’ll do what you say. You’ve…you’ve been very kind to me all along, very kind.’
‘I couldn’t have been otherwise.’
She drooped her head; but after a moment she lifted it and said quickly, ‘But…but I can’t go on taking the five guineas. You, you told him?’
‘Yes, and His Lordship understands that.’ He reached out and lifting from the table one of the packages he handed it to her, saying, ‘His Lordship would like you to accept this as a wedding gift. He would like you to buy something with it entirely for yourself.’
She undid the parcel and before her startled gaze she unwrapped a trinket box. It was made of silver, but the lid was padded with red velvet to form a pin cushion, and when she lifted it, there, filling the box in neat rows right up to the top, were golden sovereigns. She gasped at the sight of them and Cunningham said, ‘There are a hundred; I counted them myself.’ His smile was prim and pleased.
‘Oh.’ She wagged her head from side to side and looked at him, unable to find words; and to cover her embarrassment he brought forward the second parcel, saying, ‘This is a little gift from myself to you both. I hope you enjoy the contents every day.’
And now she unwrapped an elegant pewter coffee pot with a graceful spout and an ornamental lid, and all she could do now was to close her eyes tightly and try to stop the tears from welling out; and he said, ‘There, there now. Please, please don’t upset yourself. The miller would wring my neck if he thought I had made you cry.’
Again the homely saying brought her smiling, and, stretching out her hand, she took his and said, ‘Thank you. I…I can’t say all that I feel but…but thank you. And will you thank His Lordship for me? Thank him very kindly.’ Then rising to her feet, she put the two gifts on the table and, resting her hands to the side of them, she looked downwards as she said now soberly, ‘I have never asked afore but I’d like to know how…how the child’s farin’.’ And he replied, with equal soberness, ‘He’s very happy. If it’s any help for you to know this, I can say he’s extremely happy, and the household is almost back to normal. His Lordship was somewhat ill following Miss Isabelle’s accident; it was such a tragic accident.’ She turned to him. There seemed something in the way he had stressed the word ‘accident’ that brought fear rushing into her, but he looked her straight in the face as he finished, ‘But he’s over it now, and the child is his one thought and concern.’
She nodded her head slowly and said, ‘I’m glad. An’ thank you for telling me, Mr Cunningham.’
Now the sound of the children calling and laughing came to them. She went to the door, and there was Matthew coming up the slope. Some of them were dancing round him, but running towards her were Mary and Bella, and she enfolded them in her arms as they both cried, ‘Oh, our Cissie! Our Cissie!’ and when she held them from her to look at them, they looked at her and almost simultaneously cried, ‘Eeh, you look bonny, our Cissie!’
Matthew was standing behind them and amid the babble he didn’t speak; he just gazed at her, then from her to Mr Cunningham standing within the doorway, and the two men nodded at each other and smiled.
As if the children had rehearsed it they all ran into the house and grabbed up a bundle each and ran down with it to the cart; and as Mr Cunningham surveyed the nine of them scampering over the slope he said to Matthew, ‘Will you have room? I’m sure His Lordship wouldn’t mind if we used the carriage.’
On this Matthew turned to him, and for a second a veil came over the brightness in his eyes and he said, ‘Thanks all the same, but we’ll manage with the cart.’ Then he added with slight pomposity, ‘I could have brought the trap along but I wanted them all to be together.’ And Cunningham inclined his head and replied smilingly, ‘It’s understandable.’
Cissie went back into the room and she picked the two gifts up from the table. Then she looked about her, at this dwelling place where she had lived for over five years, or was it twenty-five, or fifty? She was twenty-one years of age but she felt old, she had felt old since her illness, since the morning she had returned from the Hall. She shook her head to form a barrier to her thinking, then swung swiftly about to see Matthew in the doorway.
Coming and standing before her, he looked into her eyes and asked, ‘Are you ready?’ and she answered softly, ‘Yes, I’m ready.’ And at this he put out his hand and gently touched her cheek, then took her by the arm and led her away from the habitation, over the slope and down to the road to where the nine of them were seated on the cart, their faces bright and smiling; and Jimmy, still small, still dark, and still thin in spite of his fifteen years, called to her, ‘Shall I get down, our Cissie, and run alongside and shout “Hoy a ha’penny oot”?’ And at this they all roared with laughter; even Mr Cunningham laughed, and with his mouth wide and relaxed.
When Cissie was seated on the high box beside Matthew the small neat man reached up and, shaking first her hand and then his, said, ‘I wish you both every happiness,’ and they thanked him. Then Matthew cried, ‘Gee up there!’ and the cart lumbered away in the direction of the church and Parson Hedley.
The girls sitting on the bundles and the boys with their legs dangling over the back of the cart waved to Mr Cunningham and he waved back, as did Bowmer from his seat high up on the coach. Then the valet entered the coach and sat stiffly on its leather seat, impatient now for it to reach the Hall so that he could inform his master that the young person was now settled—which would imply that he no longer need be concerned for her living in the makeshift dwelling; moreover, her new home would be some considerable distance from the Hall, and this fact alone would ease embarrassment as the years went on and the child grew.
