Authors: Yelena Kopylova
Before descending the shallow oak stairs, Kate stood for a while gathering up the front of her gown;
then she was walking down towards her family. There they all were: John and Tom,
standing together as
they nearly always did, two fine looking men, fair-haired and fresh complexioned and of their father’s
build, of medium height and broad with it; at the foot of the stairs, Hugh, tall and thin, with hair and eyes
so dark as to appear almost black, and looking older than his elder brothers;
next to him, Gabriel, who looked like his mother and had her colouring of skin, which the girls were
constantly pointing out to him was wasted on a fellow; then directly at the foot of the stairs stood Maggie
and Florrie, both with their father’s colouring, Maggie as tall as her mother, but Florrie small made, her
frame seeming to match her voice which was quiet and rarely raised. But standing behind them all was
the man she thought of as her father. And it was to him she looked as she descended the stairs.
Amid the chatter and murmurs of approval from the men, she moved towards him; and
silently he held
out a cloak and put it around her, then ceremoniously drew her arm through his, and with her was making
for the door when suddenly he stopped and, looking down the hall, said, “Where’s
Annie?”
It was Maggie who answered: “Likely finishing her crying in the kitchen and saying it’s only her sniffles,”
she said on a laugh.
“Go and fetch her, the silly bitch.”
“I’ve no need to be fetched.” Annie came through the far door and into the hall. Although she had
thickened out with the years her build in her younger days had been much the same as
was the bride’s
now; in fact, many a time she had been taken for Kate’s mother, so similar were they.
And also over the
years, she had been of invaluable help and even comfort to Mary Ellen; in fact, she’d had as much to do
with the bringing up of the family as had Mary Ellen herself, and more so with Kate. At times, Mary
Ellen had become a little mystified and more than a little troubled as she’d seen her
daughter develop into
almost a replica of Annie, and Annie’s devotion to the child had at times irritated her, for she would act
as though Kate were really hers. Even when the others came along she never gave them
the attention she
gave to Kate.
“My! that’s a new bonnet.” Hugh nipped the velvet strings hanging from the brown straw bonnet with
his finger and thumb. And Annie’s tone was one of assumed grievance when she
answered, “Give over,
you! I can have a new bonnet, surely.”
“I don’t know so much about that. I don’t think you’ve worked for it of late. Taking to your bed
because your nose runs.”
On this the whole party went out laughing, some more heartily than others, but all, to Kate’s ears,
forced.
The church was almost full. There were smelting families from Langley with whom Hal
had kept in touch
over the years; there were farmers and their wives from round about; there was Doctor
Brunton and his
wife and two daughters from Hay don Bridge, who over the years had been close friends
to the family;
but there was no relative of Mary Ellen’s or yet of Hal’s present, for they had none that they knew of.
But, as yet, the bridegroom and his best man had not appeared, nor yet any member of his family;
there were, though, a number of his friends, mostly men, seated awkwardly at the left-
hand side of the
aisle towards the back of the church.
The bride’s company arrived at the church five minutes late, but as Hal went to help Kate down from the
brake, the Reverend Scott came towards them from around the side of the church, passing through
scattered onlookers, and in a hushed tone he said to Hal, “The groom hasn’t arrived yet.
He must have
been held up on the way.”
Kate, about to step down on to the grass verge, seemed to hang in mid air, her face
looking down
questioningly into Hal’s, until he said, “Sit yourself down a minute. I don’t suppose he’ll be long.”
As Kate sat back on the seat next to Mary Ellen she shivered, and Mary Ellen said, “Nice thing. And it
isn’t very warm out here; this wind goes right through you. Put the rug round your legs.”
“No.” Kate put out her hand and stopped Mary Ellen from taking the rug from under the
seat, saying,
“I’m all right. I’m all right.”
The family had now gathered round the brake.
Mary Ellen sat back in her seat and drew in a long breath before casting a glance towards her other
daughters, and it was Florrie who spoke, saying, “Tis a good distance he has to come;’
but then Maggie
asked bluntly, “ Is there anyone inside belonging to him? “
The men standing on the road looked at one another;
then Hal said to John, “Go on and enquire, quietly like.”
They waited in silence but with evident impatience till he returned, which was a good
five minutes later.
“Well?”
John looked at his father.
“There’s no one of his family there,” he said, and turned his back on the brake and
walked slowly along
the grass verge, and the men followed him; and when at some little distance he stopped, they went into a
huddle and he said quietly, “I had a word with two of his cronies. Apparently they were on a drinking
spree last night in Allendale, finished up in some house or other, paralytic by what they said. They drove
him home towards midnight.”
“God in heaven!” Hal was beating on his mouth with his closed fist. It was as if his hand was cold and
he was blowing into it, for his breath was making hissing sounds.
Tom said, “He could be sleeping it off.”
“Tis turned twelve in the day. He had animals to see to. He wouldn’t be sleeping it off till this time. My
God! If he’s let her down I’ll slit his throat. I will, I swear on it.”
“Be quiet!” Hal turned on Hugh now.
“It’s as Tom says, he’s likely sleeping it off. And what cattle there is to see to, his father could have
done that. There must be an explanation.” He jerked his head to the side as if rejecting other thoughts.
“I talked to him only yesterday afternoon. We had an understanding.”
“What kind of understanding. Dad?” It was John asking the question.
“Oh.” Now Hal flung himself round and looked towards where his womenfolk were
sitting in the brake
and, staring at them, he muttered, “I set him up, with a promise of more if he made good on it.”
“How much?” Sounding already like a man of the law Hugh repeated, “How much?”
Hal turned towards him saying, “A hundred.”
All the men seemed to toss their heads at once, very like the horses were doing, impatient with standing.
But it was Gabriel who said, “What did you say, Dad? A hundred pounds? You must
have been mad.
By!
I bet there was a hole made in that last night when he entertained his friends in Allendale.
“
“Tis usual to have a do before a wedding.”
“Yes, on somebody else’s money?”
Hal now turned to John, saying quietly, “She wanted to be settled. It seemed her only
chance. Although
why? In the name of God! why? I don’t know, for she’s worth all the bloody women in
the county:
she’s got a head on her shoulders and common sense enough for ten; there’s nothing she can’t do inside
or outside the house; and she’s got a nature that’s pure gold....”
“Then why did you sell her to him?”
Almost as if he was going to strike Hugh, Hal now turned on him, grinding the words
from between his
teeth, “Because I understood her, Mr. Big-mouth. She’s a woman, not a lass any more,
and she has her
needs, of which you’ll learn, I hope, some day. She wanted children.
He was the only one that had offered. She’s twenty-four years old, by which time your
mother had
almost all of you lot. “ He cast his eyes angrily round them, and when a voice came from the brake
calling, “ Hal! Hal! “ he marched away and towards Mary Ellen.
“What’s the matter? What’s up?”
“Nothin’. Nothin’.” His voice was light.
“Just saying, the groom must have made merry last night and has slept in.” He smiled at Kate, but there
was no answering smile on her face. And now they all looked towards where Mr. Scott
was hurrying
through the chattering onlookers, and, having reached them, he said, “Would you like to come and wait
in the vestry? The wind is rather cutting.”
“Yes. Yes, thank you.” Mary Ellen nodded to him. Then for the first time they all got
down from the
brake, and followed the parson through the gaping and now very interested spectators
around to the
back of the church and into the small bare-looking room that was furnished with only a table, sni chairs
and a bookcase.
In a few minutes they were joined by the men, and now the room was crowded, and the
parson,
addressing Hal, said, “What do you think could have happened, Mr. Roystan?”
“I don’t know. Reverend. But he’ll likely come galloping up at any minute. And believe me, he’ll get the
length of me tongue afore he gets into your church.”
The Reverend Scott emitted a slight titter at this, but there was no echo from the others present in the
room. When half an hour passed and Harry Baker had not come galloping up on his
horse, Kate said
quietly, “I want to go home, Mam.”
“Hold your hand a minute.” Hal bent over her and, looking into her face, said quietly,
“There could be
an explanation. As I’ve told you, they had a little do last night and likely he had one over many and, not
being used to it—’ He had no knowledge whether that fellow was used to drink or not but he went on, “
It takes you that way. After the first real booze-up I ever had I slept for twenty-four hours, missed me
shift. “ He straightened himself and, smiling now, nodded to his sons.
“It’s a fact. Weird feeling to miss a whole day. But worse at the end of the week when me pay packet
was light....”
At one o’clock the family mounted the brake and the trap under the eyes now of the
whole church
company, some of the faces showing their deep concern and pity, while
others grinned and were impatient to be away to spread the news that Hal Roystan’s big lass had been
left at the church door. Others, more piously spiteful, would say, “Well, it was God’s will and God’s
way of punishing Mary Ellen Lee for her sin in begetting a child outside of marriage.
Anyone responsible
for giving life to a bastard couldn’t expect to get off scot-free. They might prosper, as she had, but God
was not mocked. He had His way in the end.” . When the party arrived back at the farm
Terry Foster,
who had worked for Hal since he was ten years old and, still unmarried, lived in a
comfortable room
above the stables, gaped in astonishment at the bride being helped down from the brake and then,
surrounded by her family, all looking grim, making for the house. It was to Annie coming in the rear he
said, “What’s happened? What’s up?”
Annie stopped and, taking him by the shoulder, twisted him around before she whispered,
“He didn’t
turn up. And you know something? I’m glad, because she was throwing herself away.
I’m glad, I tell
you.”
And with this, she gave him a slight push before turning and following the family into the house.
The women went into the sitting-room with Kate, the men remained in the hall, and it
was Hal who said,
“Get the horses saddled.”
“Aye, we’ll get the horses saddled. By God! we will.” It was Hugh who was speaking.
“But let’s get this damn finery off first, because I won’t want these togs splattered with blood, and by
God! ...”
“Hugh’—Hal’s voice was low and grim ‘leave this to me. You can come along of me,
and you an’ all,
John, but you two’—he glanced at Tom and Gabriel ‘get the horses ready, then stay
around in case he
should turn up here.”
They set about obeying his commands without further murmur, and he turned and walked
slowly
towards the sitting-room.
Kate was sitting without her veil and shawl, her hands were lying limp on her lap, her head was bent
slightly; her sisters, one at each side of her, were commiserating the only way they knew how, saying
words to the effect that it would be all right, that there must be some explanation, he’d likely fallen off his
horse and was hurt. It was when Florrie said, “You’ll find you’ll have to go through all this tomorrow
again,” that Kate raised her head slowly and, looking first from Florrie to Maggie, then to her mother,
and after holding her sad gaze for a moment, she finally lifted her eyes to Hal standing now to the side of
Mary Ellen, his hand gripping his wife’s shoulder, and she said gently, “There’ll be no tomorrow for me.
Perhaps it’s just as well. It was never meant to be. “
“The bloody swine!”
“Tis all right. Dad,” she said, and now with a swift movement she got to her feet, saying,
“I’ll get out of
these things.”
“I’ll help you.”
She put her hand out towards Florrie in a firm movement, saying, “No, no; thanks, dear.
I’ll see to me
self Then she went swiftly from the room, leaving the others silent, heads hanging as if the shame lay on
their shoulders.
After a moment Hal looked at Mary Ellen and said, “I’m off to change;