The Keepsake. Sheelagh Kelly

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СКАЧАТЬ hair tousled from the fray. ‘I have none, other than that which you deign to bestow!’

      Ibbetson clutched his scalp and gave a delirious moan as if trying to understand how all this had come to pass. How could she depict him as such an ogre, after all he had given her? He got on well with his son John, didn’t he? Tremendously in fact, for John had never repaid his generosity and advice with ingratitude or confronted him at every turn of the way, as had this chit here, but gave him all the admiration that was due. Etta seemed only to want to hurl it back in his face, the ultimate display of that ingratitude being here and now in her choice of husband, this damned upstart, this lowest of the low.

      A lethal expression on his face, he made as if to grab Marty again, but Etta’s mother intervened with a shriek. ‘Pybus, must you resort to murder? For nothing short of it will stop them. They are determined to wed.’

      It was an unusually brave move for Isabella Ibbetson, who had allowed herself to be passed mutely from an overbearing father to a domineering husband, and, having learned how spitefully childish Pybus could be if not exalted as the font of all wisdom, preferred to buckle under for the sake of a quiet life. Her prayers that Etta would take this example had been unanswered, but she loved her wilful daughter, empathised with her reluctance to be bartered, and, even if it might be too late, sought to fight her corner now.

      Marty saw the mother properly for the first time now, a striking woman with dark looks, and threw her a look of gratitude for her support, though it quickly became evident that she had not an ounce of Etta’s staying power.

      Receiving a glare for her disobedience, Mrs Ibbetson sighed and meekly stepped aside for her husband to do his worst. But at least he seemed to have taken her remark to heart. Confining any further violence to his voice, he barked at Etta whilst addressing her via his wife. ‘Very well! The unmanageable baggage wants her own way, and she shall have it.’

      Thinking there was some trick, Etta did not move, scraping away the hair that was clinging to her glistening brow and exchanging looks with Marty.

      But her father said again, directly this time, ‘Off you go then! If that’s the way you want to repay everything that’s been lavished on you, there’s no point in dallying. After all, what use are you to me if you won’t do as you’re bidden?’

      Still she was hesitant. ‘With your blessing?’

      ‘Blessing be damned! I hope you both rot in eternal damnation!’

      Galvanised into action, she replied hotly, ‘As you wish, Father! Blanche, go and pack – you shall come with me, of course.’

      An admiring Blanche made to accompany her to the house but the master blocked their progress. ‘She shall not! The servants are my property, and I didn’t buy you those clothes so you could pawn them to subsidise your fancyman.’

      Alternating between relief and anger, Marty rejoined tersely, ‘I can support my own wife, Mr Ibbetson, we need none of your help.’

      ‘Splendid! Because you won’t get it. You!’ He jerked his head at Blanche. ‘Back to the house, unless you want to forfeit your livelihood.’

      ‘Don’t treat her like a chattel, she’s a human being – Blanche, stand your ground!’

      But, recognising the futility of siding with Etta, the maid instantly complied with her employer’s demand.

      ‘Now let’s see how keen you are to take her on, Mr…whatever your name is.’

      ‘Lanegan,’ provided Marty through gritted teeth.

      ‘Hah! I thought I detected a touch of the bog-trotter. I suppose you’re a damned Roman Catholic into the bargain, aren’t you?’

      ‘I am.’ Marty was defiant, though he rarely went to church and neither did his parents.

      ‘Didn’t know that, did you?’ Ibbetson took delight in the look of slight surprise on his daughter’s face.

      ‘Martin’s religion has no bearing on anything.’ Etta became haughty.

      Ibbetson gave a nasty laugh. ‘Let’s see what bearing it has when he lands you with a brat every year!’ His tone lightened. ‘But if you still want him badly enough I’ll allow you to walk out of here with the clothes you stand up in, which is more than you deserve. I wouldn’t like to guess how long one dress will last, mind.’ He saw the flicker of alarm on his daughter’s face as she realised what she was about to sacrifice, and drove his point home. ‘But then maybe, after what you’ve just learned, you’d care to reconsider, to admit that you’ve been an ungrateful fool and put this ridiculous notion out of your head, say goodbye to this bog-Irish fortune hunter, in which case we’ll say no more about it.’

      Etta tried to appear dignified. ‘Presented with such generosity of spirit, Father, you leave us no choice.’ She took Marty’s arm and headed for the gate.

      Her mother panicked – this was not what she had intended at all. ‘Henrietta, don’t be so rash! Will you not consider your mother? For I must stand by my husband in this, there shall be no return.’

      ‘I’m sorry, Mother.’ Etta turned a pitying expression on Mrs Ibbetson, her eyes filling with tears. ‘Say goodbye to John for me when next you see him.’ Then she turned away to hide her distress.

      ‘Pybus, you cannot allow her to go!’ The mother clutched her cheeks in anguish.

      Ibbetson was unnerved too at his bluff being called, though he did not let it show. ‘You were the one who said she was determined. Well, let’s see how determined she is when she has to fend for herself.’ And to his daughter: ‘Don’t come begging to us when you find your boot boy doesn’t earn enough to keep you in scent!’

      Etta rounded angrily on her father, fighting tears of rage at the blithe manner in which he rejected her. ‘If you think that by spoiling Martin’s chances of finding work I’ll come back to you –’

      ‘You think I’d have you back?’ Ibbetson gave an uncaring snort. ‘Once you get beyond those gates that’s it – and that fellow doesn’t need my help in losing a job, he’ll do that for himself by his reckless attitude.’

      ‘I know you, you vindictive wretch!’ stormed Etta. ‘The minute I’m gone –’

      There was no chance to say more, for at her father’s declaration of ‘Enough of this!’ she was bundled unceremoniously from the grounds along with her lover and the gates clanged shut in her astonished face. There was nothing else for it but to walk away.

      Behind the barricade, watching her go, Etta’s father remained furious. Her mother was only sad, her voice caught with emotion. ‘We’ve lost her.’

      ‘Rubbish! She’ll try crawling back when he finds he can’t manage her either and throws her out.’

      In response came a miserable shake of head from one who knew: both husband and daughter were as stubborn as each other.

      Ibbetson turned dismissively to march back to the house, the servants scurrying ahead. But his daughter’s ingratitude had wounded him deeply. He could never forgive her.

      

      Elated at having won, Marty would have tackled the fifteen-mile return hike with aplomb, СКАЧАТЬ