Название: Anne Bennett 3-Book Collection: A Sister’s Promise, A Daughter’s Secret, A Mother’s Spirit
Автор: Anne Bennett
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Историческая литература
isbn: 9780007550395
isbn:
Tom paused before saying. ‘In a way, I suppose it was your fault that I said anything at all. Not that I am blaming you. I know I should have done something a lot earlier than I did. The point was, while it was just me she was having a go at, I didn’t want to stir things up further and possibly make her worse. Then you arrived and Mammy was so unreasonable in her demands and expectations of you that she angered me. I knew I couldn’t just sit there and let you take it all on your own.’
He grinned at Molly and went on, ‘I had no idea then of the feisty little lady you were. You look so frail and slight, as if a puff of wind would blow you away. To tell you the absolute truth, you made me ashamed of myself when you stand and face Mammy and seem so unafraid.’
‘That is just an act,’ Molly admitted. ‘I am scared as the next. Sometimes I’m surprised that she can’t hear my heart banging against my ribs and my stomach is often tied in knots.’
‘Well, you show no evidence of it,’ Tom said admiringly. ‘And now if you have no objection, we will go inside for breakfast before I collapse on the floor with starvation.’
Tom surprised everyone, not least Molly, the next Saturday by announcing that she was to accompany him and Biddy to Buncrana.
‘Impossible!’ Biddy said dismissively. ‘Molly has a host of jobs to get through.’
‘Well, they will have to wait.’
‘Since when did you begin giving out the orders?’
‘Not long,’ Tom admitted with a sardonic grin. ‘Some might say, better late than never.’
‘Oh, don’t start that again,’ Biddy said. ‘You always needed to be told. You’re useless at taking responsibility for anything. You were the same, even as a boy.’
‘So you say, Mammy,’ Tom said mildly, ‘but in this case I am telling you that Molly has to come with us to Buncrana today.’
‘And why is that?’
‘Because she needs wellingtons,’ Tom said. ‘I must start getting in the peat and Molly won’t be able to help me unless she has suitable footwear.’
‘Do you need her to help you?’
‘It was you who said I needed help,’ Tom pointed out. ‘Anyway, it isn’t only the peat you need wellingtons for on a farm. You may have saved money on her work clothes, though they would look better if they fitted her anywhere, but there isn’t a pair of boots in the whole place small enough for her feet. And she is ruining the shoes she has – I noticed it just the other day – and soon she will have nothing suitable to put on her feet for Mass.’
Molly, listening to this interchange, wanted to hug herself with delight. She knew that though Biddy took pleasure in the fact that, weekdays, she was dressed worse than some of the beggars she had seen on the streets of Birmingham, when it came to Mass she had to be respectable. It was a matter of pride.
This was proved when Biddy said grudgingly, ‘All right then, she needs a pair of wellingtons, but there is still no reason for her to come with us. We’ll bring her a pair home.’
‘You know that it is hard for one to buy footwear for another,’ Tom said, ‘even in the case of boots – maybe more especially in the way of boots. Molly will be wearing these most of the time that she is outside with me and I would be happier if they fit her well enough.’
And so Molly got to go to Buncrana. She fair rattled through the jobs beforehand. She sat in the back of the cart that early summer morning, with the sun just peeping over the hill to light up the pale blue sky with the clouds scudding across it, blown by the wafting breeze, and felt the beginning of happiness steal over her. She couldn’t believe that she could be so excited over a simple shopping trip.
She had been used to a vast array of shops virtually on her doorstep in the shape of Erdington Village, and the city centre itself only a short tram journey away, and though she had been shown around Buncrana by Cathy, that had been on a Sunday when everywhere was shut up. What a different and vibrant place it was on Saturday. She drank in the noise, the chatter and laughter, and the shouts of the men on the market.
Molly helped Tom unload the surplus eggs she had collected, butter she had churned and the vegetables she had helped Tom lift from the ground. They stacked them on a trestle table in the Market Hall.
Then Tom said to his mother, ‘All right, Mammy? I’ll take Molly for those boots and then pop down to the harbour and see if there is any fish for sale there.’
He gave Biddy no chance to say anything to this, but swung Molly away and down the side street, and didn’t miss the sigh of relief she gave at being away from his mother. Tom grinned at her and said, ‘Damned if I don’t feel the same way myself,’ and Molly gave a little laugh.
The boots were bought and wrapped in no time at all, and then Tom set out to introduce Molly to some of the townsfolk, many of whom she had glimpsed at Mass. All seemed pleased to see her, and those who remembered her mother all remarked on the likeness between them, and added what a tragedy it was that she and her husband had been killed. It was said with such sincerity and sadness that tears would sometime prickle the back of Molly’s eyes, but she didn’t let them fall.
Any crying she did now was in the privacy of her own room. Not that she cried that much any more, but the aching loss of her parents was always there. She had little control over her dreams, though, and sometimes when she woke up, her pillow would be damp.
The townsfolk didn’t see this, of course. They saw a wee strip of a girl, a beautiful girl too, with the large brown eyes and hair the colour of mahogany, so like her mother, coping stoically. That was one of the reasons the baker handed her a currant cake with a knowing little wink and then a little later, the greengrocer tossed her a red apple.
When she saw Cathy coming up the street with her father, Jack, Molly thought her happiness almost complete.
Cathy was just as delighted to see her, and after the families had greeted one another, Jack said to Tom, ‘Let’s leave the young ones to it. I’m away to the harbour to see what the catch is, and then I have a mind to sink a Guinness or two at the Lough Swilly Hotel and watch the world go round. How about it?’
Molly saw Tom hesitate and guessed that this wasn’t something he normally did on Saturday mornings. Then he said, ‘Aye, Jack, that sounds a grand occupation.’
‘Good man, yourself!’ Jack exclaimed as he clapped Tom on the back.
Tom bent to Molly. ‘I would keep out of Mammy’s way for an hour or so at least,’ he said.
‘You sure?’
‘Positive,’ Tom said definitely. ‘We’ll catch it when we get back whatever time it is, you likely more than me, and I’m in no rush to experience that.’
‘Nor me,’ Molly agreed with a shudder, and Tom smiled and pressed a thrupenny bit into her hand. ‘Oh, Uncle Tom!’ Molly cried in surprise.
‘Nothing worse than looking round the shops without a penny piece in your pocket,’ Tom said. ‘Away now and enjoy yourself, for it is no sin at all.’
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