Like One of the Family (21 page)

‘I think she's a bit upset,' Claire said.

Jane stared at her, unable to understand her detachment. Something was definitely wrong.

Jane sat down on the bed. ‘What is it, Claire?' she asked gently. ‘Has something happened?'

Claire flushed and looked down at her book. Jane noticed the slim fingers gripping the cover, so tight the knuckles had changed colour.

‘I'd like to go home,' Claire said abruptly.

Jane was taken aback. The very last thing she had expected to hear. ‘But I thought you were happy here,' she said, bewildered. ‘Besides, there's only another week before we all go home. Don't you want to stay until then?'

‘I'm sorry,' Claire faltered. ‘I didn't mean to sound ungrateful but I'd really like to go at once.' She looked desperately at Jane.

Here she was thinking something had happened and it was only that Claire had tired of minding Ruthie and wanted to go home. Jane felt an enormous sense of let-down but strove to be fair. After all, it couldn't be much fun for a teenager left all day minding an eight-year-old. She shrugged and stood up.

‘Very well, Claire,' she said, a little coldly. ‘If that's what you want, I'll drive you to Waterford tomorrow. As far as I know there's a train around midday.'

‘I'm sorry,' Claire said abjectly.

‘I'm sorry too.' Jane was unable to conceal a note of disillusionment. ‘I had hoped you liked sharing these holidays with us. I know it's not very exciting left with Ruthie so much but you should have told me before if you weren't happy.'

Claire winced. She looked as though she were going to cry.

‘Well, it can't be helped.' Jane tried to smile. She felt deathly tired. ‘We'll just have to get along without you somehow.' A slight unintentional irony tinged her voice. ‘Goodnight, my dear.' She went out without looking back or waiting for Claire's reply.

As soon as the door closed Claire burst into tears. She knew that she had mortally offended Jane. She pulled the pillow over her face to deaden the sound and sobbed as though her heart would break.

Ruthie finally came out of the bathroom of her own accord. She appeared suddenly in the kitchen as Jane was reading the paper and threw herself weeping into her mother's arms.

‘There, there, everything's all right,' Jane soothed her

‘Mummy, Mummy,' Ruthie bawled. She was still dressed in her shirt and denims. Her tears soaked Jane's blouse. After a while Jane said, ‘Let's get you changed, love,' and took her into the bedroom and undressed her. As she put her in a nightie she noticed the angry bruises on Ruthie's chest. She said nothing, but she felt a stirring of fear. Who or what could have caused such marks? She lifted the little girl into bed and pulled the duvet over her.

Ruthie sat up. ‘Don't go, Mummy,' she cried. ‘You won't, will you?'

Jane shook her head. The child lay down again and watched her undress, her eyes enormous in her pale face. Now Jane was convinced there was really something terribly wrong. She put on her dressing gown and drew the cord firmly about her waist. When Ruthie was asleep she went to sit by the fire until Sheena got home.

Just before eleven o'clock she heard the key in the door and Sheena and her boyfriend came in. It needed only a gentle prompt to get Sheena going and she blurted out the whole scary story. Jane was horrified. No wonder Claire wanted to go home, she thought, and Ruthie spent half the night hiding in the bathroom, the only room in the house with a lock. The animals, Jane thought in a rush of anger.

‘For God's sake, Sheena, why didn't you tell me all this earlier?' In her weariness, Jane's anxiety turned to exasperation. ‘I can't understand why you didn't.' She looked severely at her daughter. ‘Most irresponsible.'

Sheena burst into tears. Jane stared at her aghast. Sheena never cried.

‘Oh darling, I'm sorry. Forgive me. I didn't mean it,' Jane babbled remorsefully, shocked by all these disturbing revelations. ‘I don't know what I'm saying. You were marvellous, all of you. I was just so upset and worried. Please don't cry.'

Sheena gulped and choked. She took the handkerchief Killian handed her and mopped her tears. When she could speak, she said, ‘But I wanted to ring you, Mummy. I really did, only Claire begged and begged me not to. She was afraid you'd blame her.'

‘Blame her... why should I do that?' Jane asked, genuinely puzzled.

Sheena shrugged. ‘Dunno. She gets funny notions, Claire. She even wanted to go home before you came but felt it wouldn't be right to leave Ruthie.'

Jane sighed and stood up. Poor Claire. She might have been Ruthie's older sister the way everyone took it for granted she must accept responsibility for her. Jane felt ashamed at how casually they all used her. What an ordeal. She turned to Killian.

‘I can't thank you enough for all you did,' she told him. ‘I dread to think what would have happened if you hadn't been here.'

‘It was nothing at all, Dr McArdle,' Killian said, looking pleased. He was really rather a dote. Jane hugged him and Sheena shyly squeezed his hand. Jane looked at her watch and smiled at them both.

‘Off home with you now, Killian,' she said gently. ‘It's time we were all in bed.' She saw him out and shut the door behind him. Sheena went tiredly up the stairs.

Jane suddenly yawned. It seemed like an eternity since she had got into the car that afternoon to drive to the country. She would get the whole thing straightened out, she promised herself. First thing in the morning she would have a word with Garda Deveney next door. But just now she couldn't wait to get into bed. Before falling asleep she reminded herself that this was a sensitive situation and she must warn Terry to be careful what he said to Claire.

There wasn't any need. Sheena already had.

For the next few days everything seemed back to normal. Ruthie appeared to be putting the ordeal behind her though she showed a tendency to wake up at night and cry for her mother. Claire too felt her spirits gradually lifting.

Jane had taken her aside the next morning and gently drawn the whole story from her. Claire cried as she told it, partly from distress and partly from relief that the air was cleared between them. Jane took her in her arms and comforted her. She told Claire she had decided to remain with them until it was time for them all to pack up and go.

‘So I hope you'll think twice about going home. We really want you to stay.'

Claire nodded, then blushed when Jane went on to say how proud she was of the way she had fought off her attackers and done her best to protect Ruthie.

‘It's a debt I can never repay,' Jane said and hugged Claire again, relieved to see the look of shamed desperation ease from her face. ‘I want you to know I trust you completely and there's no one I would rather have to mind Ruthie than you. Indeed, you have always been more of a sister to her than Sheena.'

Claire looked embarrassed. ‘But Sheena is really good with Ruthie,' she protested loyally. ‘She's always getting up at night to bring her to the toilet. Honestly!'

‘I'm glad to hear it,' Jane said, unconvinced. She knew how little Sheena ever exerted herself. ‘So it's a bargain?' Jane squeezed Claire's hand affectionately. ‘You'll wait and come home with us at the end of the week?'

Claire nodded and shyly returned the squeeze. With Jane staying on in the cottage, she no longer felt such a desperate need to get away. One thing bothered her. Had Terry been told?

Jane nodded. ‘When he heard I'm afraid he got a bit carried away and took things into his own hands. You know Terry.' She smiled ruefully. ‘I suspect he rather enjoyed himself.'

Claire smiled, her heart lifting at the thought of him going to her defence.

By the middle of the week she felt so much better that she suggested to Ruthie that they get out the billy-cans and go into the field behind the bungalows to pick blackberries. They collected enough fruit to make a couple of pies and came giggling into the house, their lips and fingers stained purple. When Jane exclaimed over how much they had picked the two girls began talking at once.

‘We would have had loads more,' Claire said, with an impish glance at Ruthie, ‘Only a certain young lady ate far more berries than she put in the can.'

‘Oh I like that!' Ruthie moaned. ‘Don't listen to her, Mummy. Claire ate twice as many as me.'

‘I don't think so!' Claire grinned at Jane. ‘I seem to remember someone saying, “One for the billy-can, two for me.” Now I wonder who in the world that was?'

Jane laughed and hustled Ruthie before her into the kitchen. She pretended to be cross, as she removed the evidence with a face-cloth and soap, but secretly Jane was delighted to see them so jolly. How could she ever have imagined that Claire resented minding Ruthie, when her affection was so apparent in every smile and caress she gave the little girl?

They were all very light-hearted that evening as they tucked into delicious slices of blackberry pie, topped with cream, that Sheena had generously offered to make. Besides, she was rather good at pastry and wanted to impress Killian, who had been invited to tea. Jane was just as glad to let her.

There were jokes made about Sheena's pastry but there wasn't a scrap left over. Terry sighed over his third helping and pretended to vomit. Sheena threatened to take it away from him and, while Killian held his arms, Ruthie ran giggling to get her brother's dish. They all insisted he take back his words or forfeit the pie and Terry, pretending to be scared, dutifully begged for mercy.

Claire loved it when the McArdles cod-acted like this.

Great to see them perking up again, Jane thought as she watched their antics with a smile.

It was the last night of the disco and the last night of the holidays. They were all a little sad that the summer holiday was ending but pleased to finish it off with a dance. Sheena and Killian were going. So were Terry and Claire. And Susan Deveney from next door.

Claire told herself she didn't mind. Terry hadn't even looked at Susan this holiday. All the same she intended painting her nails and even begging a spray of perfume from Sheena.

Jane thought it might be nice to wind up the holiday by eating out, so she brought them to the hotel for a meal and ordered wine, pouring a little for each of them, even a drop for Ruthie. As the level of the bottle sank Jane became relaxed and giggly. The children watched her with tolerant smiles, liking this aspect of their mother they didn't often see these days. Not since their father was alive. On nights out their parents had always taken wine with their meal and, afterwards, gone into the bar for brandies.

‘Why don't you have brandy tonight, Mum?' Terry suggested, reminded of happier times.

‘Okay, I will,' Jane agreed. ‘Why not? It's back to the grind on Monday.' When it came, she cupped her hands about the balloon glass and smiled around at them.

‘Please let me hold it, Mummy,' Ruthie begged, and when her mother passed it to her, sniffed with an ecstatic expression. ‘Mmmm. Nice.'

‘Our little connoisseur,' Terry flicked her head affectionately with his fingernails. ‘Soon Coke won't be good enough for her. She'll insist on brandy.'

‘Yes,' agreed Ruthie. ‘I can't wait.' She reluctantly surrendered the glass as they laughed.

‘To next year,' Jane toasted, looking about with a warm expression in her blue eyes. ‘I suppose we should be more adventurous in our choice of holidays but I can't ever see us not wanting to come back here, can you?'

Claire was silent, thinking she had once felt this way but now wasn't so sure. Still, she told herself, she shouldn't let one isolated incident spoil years of enjoyment. ‘Experience in itself is not so important,' she wisely reminded herself, ‘as the use you make of it.'

They lingered, loth to break the happy mood, and when they eventually stirred themselves, they had to walk back fast to the cottage to get ready for the disco. Claire was about to run upstairs when Ruthie said she wanted to go to the shops for some fake sweet cigarettes she had developed a craze for.

‘Oh Ruthie,' Claire sighed. ‘Do you have to?' But she hadn't the heart to refuse her. ‘You go ahead,' she said to Sheena resignedly. ‘‘We'll be back before you know it.'

‘Okay, but hurry,' Sheena said. ‘I told Killian we'd meet him there and I don't want to be late.' She ran off to get changed, as usual content to let Claire take care of things. Terry had already parted from them at the hotel, promising to meet up later.

Jane smiled her thanks at Claire. ‘Good girl,' she praised, relieved after all that lovely food and drink not to have to go out again. She was looking forward to putting her feet up before tackling the packing. Anyway, it wasn't as if she could drive, she absolved herself.

Claire went round to the shed to get out the bikes. The light was beginning to fade. Let's hope they didn't run into Sergeant Flynn, she thought. None of the bikes had lamps. She tucked her jeans in a workmanlike fashion into her socks and called out to Ruthie. ‘First one to the shops gets a surprise.' It worked. Ruthie flung herself on her bike and pedalled strongly away. Claire grinned and followed her.

They flew down the road and turned right at the post box. Claire passed Ruthie, then slowed to allow her take the lead. The little girl shot past, her hair flying out behind her in a silky curtain. Her legs flashed, sturdy and tanned, in navy linen shorts. She was really becoming very pretty.

Taking after Eddie, Claire thought with a pang. Although she admired Jane, she would not have described her as beautiful. Eddie had undoubtedly possessed the best looks in the family. Terry and Sheena took strongly after him, and now Ruthie promised to be even more striking than her sister, which was saying a lot.

They covered the last half-mile in record time and with a crow of delight Ruthie leapt off her bike and waited for Claire to catch up.