Authors: June Francis
He looked surprised. ‘I thought her a homebird.’
‘She surprised me!’ A sigh escaped her. ‘I don’t want her to go but she’s got it into her head that she must.’
‘You’ll miss her.’
‘I will.’ She decided to change the subject before it got complicated. ‘Did you see your grandfather?’
‘I saw him.’
There was something in his voice that caused her to look up at him. ‘So he’s not dead.’
‘No. My uncle is, though.’
‘Your uncle! Oh, I am sorry.’ She slipped her hand into the crook of his arm in an attempt to comfort.
He pressed her hand against his side. ‘I’m still having trouble believing it. We hadn’t seen each other in years but his letters meant a lot to me. He was a link with my grandmother.’ There was sadness in John’s face. ‘I should have gone back to Scotland sooner and taken care of him. He never married and I think he looked upon me as the son he never had.’
‘I’m sure your letters meant a lot to him, too,’ she said softly.
‘The solicitor said they did.’ He paused. ‘I intended writing to you.’
‘Why didn’t you?’ It pleased her that he had at least thought about writing.
There was a shadow in his eyes. ‘I started several times but the past got in the way. Seeing my grandfather raked up memories, painful memories. But worse than that, was that he didn’t believe I’d made the journey to see him. He thought I was there purely because of Uncle Donald’s death.’
‘You told him the truth, though?’
‘Yes! And I asked for his forgiveness although God knows I hadn’t done anything that I was ashamed of where he was concerned! But it was a waste of time.’
‘It’s sad. But you tried and you couldn’t do more than that.’
‘I could have gone back and tried again but I’d had enough.’ His expression changed. ‘He was glad Uncle Donald was dead and didn’t utter a word of sympathy,’ he said harshly. ‘I doubt I’ll make the effort to see him again. Let’s change the subject.’
She asked him about the journey and told him about her visit to the O’Neills’ house, about Ben and his white mouse and about Sarah’s comments, and was glad to see that he was amused. She was certain it was on the tip of his tongue to mention Charley again but by then they were at the hotel and she busied herself with making them some lunch. Afterwards, having found some tools in the outhouse, John set about planing a touch off the door, creating a heap of fragrant wood shavings. It was as if he had never been away, marvelled Kitty, as she got on with preparing the evening meal. It was served earlier on a Saturday because so many of the guests were going out to see a show, a play or a film.
The inner door opened and Mick, Ben and Sarah entered. ‘Uncle John! What are you doing here?’ cried the girl, dropping her doll and bouncing over to where he knelt on the floor. One of her plaits had come loose and as she flung her arms about his neck almost throwing him off balance, her long hair wrapped itself round his face.
‘Careful!’ He placed the plane on the tiles and removed hair from his mouth before hugging her.
Kitty felt warm inside, thinking it said something about this man that Sarah was pleased to see him, but from Mick’s expression he obviously had mixed feelings about John’s return. Ben, though, was delighted. He went over to John, his face beaming. ‘Hello, Little John. We bought some proper mouse food. It’s got maize, sunflower seeds and peanuts in it.’
‘So you got your way, laddie,’ drawled John. ‘You want watching.’
Sarah said, ‘
I
wanted to buy a mouse to keep Ben’s company but Mick wouldn’t let me. He said we could end up snowing in them. What does he mean by that, Uncle John? How can it snow mice?’
John exchanged glances with Kitty. ‘Ask your mother when she comes home,’ he said.
But Sarah was nothing if not persistent and, resting against his knee, she asked, ‘Is it the same as having two rabbits? Davy had rabbits and they had babies during the night but the daddy killed them.’
‘Why?’ asked Ben, wide-eyed.
‘The buck, that’s the daddy rabbit, should have been taken out as soon as we knew about the babies but we didn’t know until my daddy came back from America.’ She screwed up her face. ‘I wonder why the daddy killed his own babies?’
‘Perhaps he was jealous of them,’ said Ben.
‘I doubt rabbits feel jealousy,’ said Kitty thoughtfully. ‘They’re not like human beings.’
‘They act on instinct,’ said John. ‘It could have been that the buck was frightened when he smelt and felt something different moving in the straw in the dark. Perhaps he thought it was another buck and saw him as a threat to his mate.’
Mick cleared his throat. ‘Did Ma tell you about the man who threatened her with a knife while you were away, Mr McLeod?’
Kitty tensed, her eyes on John’s face. ‘I knew about it. That’s why I’m here,’ he said without emotion.
‘Are you going to stay forever?’ asked Ben, looking pleased.
John said gravely, ‘Forever’s a long time.’
‘I’d like you to stay a long time,’ said Ben. ‘He was a bad man.’
‘I’ll stay as long as I’m needed.’
‘Who said you’re needed?’ The voice came from the doorway and their heads turned.
Kitty did not know whether to feel angry or sad as she looked at Teddy who was standing in the doorway looking blatantly hostile. ‘I say he’s needed,’ she murmured. ‘So get that chip off your shoulder and behave yourself.’
Teddy opened his mouth but she gave him a warning look and without another word he walked away. Mick glanced at her before following his brother.
There was a silence and Kitty made a move towards the door.
‘You’re best leaving them,’ said John. ‘You’ve said what you feel. Best to give them time to think about it now.’
She nodded, thinking she would have to fill him in on the Charley episode sooner or later. Maybe it would be best sooner. ‘Ben, you take Sarah upstairs and feed that mouse,’ she ordered. ‘And no messing about. I need to finish these pies and get on with things.’ She opened the door for them and ushered them out.
She did not speak immediately after the children had left, but brushed the top of a pie with a mixture of egg and milk. Her hands were amazingly steady considering how pent up her nerves were. She jumped when John spoke.
‘How bad was it with Charley?’ He picked up the plane and removed some wood shavings from the blades. ‘I need to know what I’m being blamed for.’
She remembered suddenly what Becky had said about him feeling responsible for the death of his wife and daughter. ‘Don’t get all guilty,’ she said. ‘Jimmy’s as much to blame as you are for what happened.’
John’s gaze slid over her face. ‘Your brother-in-law? What’s he got to do with this?’ he said slowly.
‘Charley knew Jimmy. He’d obviously spoken about me and this place. Charley said about me being a woman alone and needing protection.’ She kept her voice light. ‘Myrtle Drury had sacked him and he saw me as a way of making easy money. It wasn’t as easy as he thought though because the boys and Annie came on the scene. I was frightened and angry but for me things could have been much worse. As it was I escaped with a scratch on my face and a few bruises.’
‘The boys?’
‘He didn’t harm them, thank God! It was Ben who insisted we involved you. And Mick fell in with that.’
‘Teddy?’
‘He wanted us to fetch the police. I didn’t want to.’
He nodded. ‘So Daniel involved himself.’
She smiled. ‘He frightened the life out of me and Annie, as if she hadn’t already suffered enou—’ The word tailed away and she moved to place the pies in one of the ovens. Her voice was muffled as she said, ‘Let’s forget about it for now. I have enough on my plate to think about at the moment.’
There was silence and she heard his footsteps going towards the back door.
‘Could you give me a hand with this?’ he said.
Relieved, she straightened up from the oven. ‘With what?’
‘Balance the door so I can screw it back on. Here, stand here.’
She did as he asked and his body was at her back, his arm brushing her hair with every forceful movement of the screwdriver. She was aware of an overwhelming desire to lean against him, to relax, but her nerves were as overstretched as a drumskin. She shivered in the draught from the open doorway and closed her eyes, willing him to do something. She wanted to feel his body warming hers.
‘You can let go now.’
Her pent-up emotions threatened to explode. ‘Is it OK now?’ Her voice was strained.
He swung the door back and forth with no trouble. ‘Satisfied?’ There was an expression in his eyes that made her think he knew what he was doing by not touching her.
She nodded. ‘A cup of tea?’
‘Thanks.’ He began to gather his tools together.
As they sat drinking tea he told her about having been caught in a blizzard in Argyllshire. ‘I thought my last hour had come and then I thought of you.’ His tone was serious.
Kitty froze with her cup halfway to her lips. ‘And did it help?’ she asked lightly.
John rested his elbows on the table and gazed into her eyes. ‘What do you think? I’m here aren’t I?’
There was a silence and again she waited for him to do something, but he made no move to touch her. She glanced at the clock and rose to take the casseroles out of one oven and the pies out of the next and determined to keep their relationship on a business-like footing. She wondered if she had dreamed him kissing her hand and that electric-like charge between them earlier. Perhaps she was reading more into what he said and did than there was. And yet before he had gone away he had kissed her. She was confused. ‘Have you ever waited on table?’ she asked.
‘The odd time in cafes. I’ve done all kinds of things to earn a crust. I’ve no black trousers, though.’
She stared at him, not wanting him in the dining room wearing the faded corduroy trousers he had on. Then she remembered how he had appeared the first time she had seen him. ‘Wear your kilt and they’ll think they’re getting something extra for their money,’ she said positively. ‘Come on upstairs now and I’ll show you where you’re sleeping and you can change.’
He followed her out of the room. ‘What about Annie? Have you told her I’ll be putting her out of her bedroom?’
‘She wants you to stay. She’ll fall in with whatever I say,’ Kitty said shortly. ‘Give it a week and most of our clientele will have left. It’s the National on Friday. Then you can have that room where you put the trunk.’
‘Are you going to tell me why Annie’s suffered enough?’
She paused on the stairs and glanced round at him. She drew in a breath. ‘I’d rather not. But if you have to know – that swine ruined her.’
His expression was suddenly steely and his eyes fixed on Kitty’s face. ‘And you want me to put her out of her room?’ His voice seemed to catch somewhere in his throat.
‘No!’ She caught her lower lip between her teeth and took a deep breath. ‘But I have to put you somewhere and she can sleep with me.’
‘Your bed’s going to be crowded with Sarah in there as well. I could sleep in the kitchen.’
‘On the tiled floor?’ She shook her head. ‘Annie won’t mind. She’ll feel safer with me, and even more so with you in the next room. As it is she’s slept with me a couple of times since it happened.’
‘Did he beat her, too?’ She nodded and the skin round his jaw tightened. ‘And he hurt you. I’d like to throttle him.’
‘I’d like him nibbled to death by crabs,’ she said lightly, ‘but that’s neither here nor there right now. We’ve meals to serve and I’d rather I never saw Charley again.’
He stared at her but remained silent and she carried on upstairs, knowing that John would dearly like Charley to return.
Kitty liked John in a kilt. She liked what she could see of his legs. There was strength in his legs. Poor Michael’s legs had been white and limp like forced celery but the Scotsman’s knees were muscular and, having been exposed to all kinds of weather, were the colour of fallen leaves in autumn. As she carried a tray into the dining room she imagined the chaos which would ensue if she gave in to temptation and fondled his knees.
She was being daft. She knew that, but at the back of her mind now lurked the fear that if Charley did return then there would be a fight between him and John, and whilst the logical, sensible part of her mind felt sure John could look after himself (after all he had beaten Charley once before), another part of her mind told her Charley was mean and sneaky and would not fight fair. A knife in the back was a very real thing. She shook herself mentally. Daft! She really was imagining herself in one of those gangster movies. This was Britain not America. She tilted her chin and put on a smile for the customers.
‘Something tickled your sense of humour, good lady?’ asked Mr Jones. He had a mop of silver hair and baby-blue eyes and try as she might Kitty could not dislike him, but he reminded her of Annie. She wondered where her cousin was because she had not seen her for the last hour.
‘Just something one of my sons said,’ she lied smoothly.
‘The youngest one’s a handful and no mistake,’ he said, chuckling.
What had Ben been up to, she wondered, but did not probe. Instead she asked Mr Jones what his plans were for that evening and was told he was going to the Pavilion to see a variety show. She moved on to the next guest.
‘Who’s your new man and what happened to the other?’ asked Mrs Mahoney, rapping her stick on the floor. She was from the Irish Free State and booked in regularly for the horse racing at Aintree. ‘Family, wasn’t he?’
‘Jimmy’s gone to work in Rhyl,’ said Kitty. ‘How’s your family, Mrs Mahoney?’
‘Don’t change the subject, girlie!’ Her sharp eyes stared covertly at John. ‘Is he one of the family, too?’
‘Not exactly.’ Kitty glanced at the Scotsman who was serving at the next table. As if aware of her gaze he looked up and smiled before carrying on with what he was doing. Kitty’s responding smile lingered as she felt a moment of happiness.
‘Soon will be I shouldn’t wonder,’ grunted the old woman. ‘Strong looking fella. He’ll keep those boys of yours in order and no mistake.’
Kitty made no comment, only smiling before hurrying into the kitchen to heat milk for the custard.