The English Tutor (19 page)

“
Yes,
”
he said.
“
It was quite nasty, and having the stitches out hasn
’
t been very pleasant. I
think
we
’
ll get on, Clancy.
”

“
You never came,
”
she said again.

Conn straightened up.

“
I
’
m sorry,
”
he said a little impatiently,
“
but there
’
s been one thing or another. Anyway, you
’
re all right now. Come over tomorrow and see how Sunrise
’
s foal has grown.
”

Mark switched on his engine.

“
It will be a little time before Clancy can row again,
”
he remarked.
“
Five stitches in your arm takes a bit of healing.
”

“
Ah, of course,
”
said Conn quickly.
“
I’ll
be over one of these days. Good-bye, now.
”

She was very silent as they drove home in the early evening of a soft September day. Mist was already rising from the loch, and summer was nearly gone. Leaves had begun to sprinkle the lawns and a gentle melancholy lay
upon Kilmallin.

“The summer’s gone,” Clancy said with weary surprise, as though the seasons had subtly changed between the morning and the evening.

Inside the
house
too, there was change. The stove in the hall had been lighted, and as they entered, the acrid smell of smoke and hot iron greeted them.

“
Is that you, Bea?
”
shouted Kevin
’
s voice from the library.

He came and stood in the doorway, the whisky decanter in one hand and a half-empty glass in the other.
“
Ah, it
’
s you, Cromwell. I hope, now, this is the last visit to Boyle. Running up bills and the like for a tat of an accident that wouldn
’
t have happened if this girl had been
more careful.
”

“
Yes, it should be the last visit, if the arm goes on all right,
”
Mark said quietly.
“
But the doctor was not very gentle. Clancy doesn
’
t feel too well.
”

“
You
’
re starting to pamper her,
”
Kevin said. His eyes were
v
ery bloodshot. It was clear that he had already drank enough.
“
Agnes has sent the boy to bed. He has a slight cold, and you had given him too much homework to do.
”

Mark
’
s light eyebrows shot up.

“
I hardly think so,
”
he said.
“
Has he been complaining to his nurse?
”

Kevin splashed whisky into his glass and drank it off neat.
“
Och, you know what women are. She thinks Clancy has been having too much attention, but you
’
re all right now, aren
’
t you, my girl?
”

“
Yes, Kilmallin,
”
said Clancy wearily,
“
quite all right.
”

“
Then go and keep your brother company. He
’
s been alone all the afternoon, but don
’
t catch his cold, mind. I don
’
t want two of you sniffing round the place. Come in and have a drink, Cromwell. It
’
s chilly in the evenings now.
”

“
No, thanks,
”
said Mark,
“
but a weak drink wouldn
’
t hurt Clancy before she goes upstairs.
”

“
What!
”
cried Kevin,
“
waste my good whisky on a female! Tell Agnes to give her a dose of sal volatile if you think she needs bucking up. You
’
d think the girl was a fine lady the way you carry on.
”

“
I don
’
t want anything,
”
said Clancy, and walked slowly up the stairs.

Kevin stood in the doorway swaying a little and looking at Mark under angry, tufted brows.

“
Go on, then!
”
he said.
“
Look at me the way you looked when the accident happened! Favour the girl when I got you here for the boy
’
s sake! Ah, blast with the lot of you!
”
He crossed the hall a little unsteadily, carrying the decanter and the glass, and kicked his study door to behind him.

He did not appear for dinner and, since Brian was in bed, there were only the three of them. Mark tried to make conversation but Aunt Bea was vague and abstracted, and Clancy sat, trying unsuccessfully to eat, and looking very tired. It was an uncomfortable meal, and Mark was glad to go to his room as soon as it was over.

He had been there perhaps half an hour, comfortably relaxed, with his pipe in his mouth and Trevelyan
’
s
English Social History
on his knee, when he heard someone on the stairs.

“
Come in,
”
he called, as someone knocked.

He looked with surprise at Clancy standing in the doorway. She had never before ventured to the tower room.

“
Hullo,
”
he said,
“
anything I can do for you?
”

She came in and shut the door. She had an exercise book tucked under her good arm.

“
It
’
s something in my homework I can
’
t understand,
”
she said in a tired little voice.

He got up and took the book from her.

“
I didn
’
t mean you to work tonight,
”
he said gently.
“
You ought to be in bed.
”

She stood in the middle of the room looking at him a little uncertainly.

“
I thought I might as well,
”
she said.
“
It
’
s better if you
’
ve got something to do.
”

“
Arm hurting?
”

“
A bit. I suppose it
’
s bound to.
”

“
Well, since you
’
re here, come and sit by the fire and talk for a little while.
”

He turned back to his chair, and after a moment
’
s hesitation, she came and sat on the fine Persian rug which was stretched on the hearth.

He had the impression that the homework wa
s
only an excuse. She was lonely and for the first time she had sought him out.

“
Clancy,
”
he asked,
“
you aren
’
t really upset because Conn didn
’
t come to see you?
”

Her face in the firelight was soft and childish and hurt.
“
He would have come last year,
”
she said.

“
You must allow for your ages,
”
he told her with gentleness.
“
Conn is a young man now. He has other things on his mind.
”

She stared into the fire.

“
L
ike selling the farm?
”

“
Perhaps. I think things have altered for him since his father
’
s death.
”

“
Yes. Why do people have to change?
”

“
They grow up, Clancy.
”

“
That
’
s what Clodagh said. She said I hadn
’
t caught up yet.
”

“
But you will. You
’
re catching up fast already. You understand a great deal more than either Conn or Clodagh.
”

“
I don
’
t think I understand anything,
”
she said,
“
except Kilmallin
’
s annoyance with me.
”

He felt impatience with these two people who could so carelessly hurt her.

“
He wasn
’
t himself tonight,
”
he said.

In the leaping light from the turfs her face changed to sudden maturity.

“
Oh, Kilmallin
’
s often a little drunk,
”
she said,
“
but drunk or sober, he doesn
’
t really want me. He only wants Brian.
”

It was true, but it hurt him that she should know it.
“
When you
’
re older, he
’
ll see you differently,
”
he said.
“
No, he
’
ll never see me differently.
”
She turned her face suddenly towards him and he saw the deep smudges of weariness under her eyes.
“
When my mother was killed he said to me:
‘
If it had to be one of you, Clancy, God help me, it should not have been her. She should have given me another son.
’
I was nine, and I
’
ve never forgotten.
”

He felt a little helpless in dealing with her. She had lived too long with this bitter truth to have it erased by the soothing, coaxing words one would use to a child.

“
One day, it will no longer matter,
”
he said.

“
One day? When?
”

“
When you marry. When some man thanks heaven that you were bo
rn
a girl and not a boy.
”

She considered this gravely, turning her head away again and looking into the fire.

“
It would depend on the man, wouldn
’
t it?
”
she said at last.
“
Conn, you see, still treats me like a boy. I think I prefer it, really. He
’
s always jeering at Clodagh
’
s feminine tricks, as he calls them.
”

“
I think,
”
Mark said with firm conviction,
“
that you should go away from here.
”

She looked up at him in surprise.

“
Away from Kilmallin? But where would I go?
”

“
To school—well, perhaps not to school now. But to friends, relations, away from these surroundings until you find your feet.
”

“
Kilmallin would never hear of it,
”
she said.
“
And I don
’
t, think I really want to go—not now.
”

“
Why not now?
”

“
I don
’
t know. Conn and the farm—even you.
”

“
Even me?
”

She said a little shyly:
“
You
’
ve really been very nice, Mark. I
’
m afraid I was very rude to you.
”

“
You were—very, and I expect you will be again when the mood takes you,
”
he told her lightly.
“
You
’
re meek from suffering now, Clancy. I
’
ve no doubt when that arm has quite healed you
’
ll revert to your usual truculent self.
”

“
Am I truculent?
”

“
When you think you have a grievance. But that
’
s very Irish, isn
’
t it?
”

For a moment she took his teasing seriously and her chin went up, then she caught his eye and laughed.

“
I suppose we do harbour grudges,
”
she admitted,
“
but then the British are so awfully dispassionate. It
’
s very puzzling. I
’
m glad they gave you the tower room now, it sort of fits.
”

“
Oh? How?
”

“
I don
’
t know. Dependable—a little remote.
”

“
You
’
re a queer girl.
”

“
Am I? Do you know when we first heard you were coming we thought you were old—some old professor, Conn said. And we hoped the tower stairs would weaken you. Michael John said if they didn
’
t, something surely would. But nothing has, has it?
”

He laughed outright.

“
Now you
’
re just being a child. How absurd you are, Clancy. Did you really think the stairs would give me heart failure?
”

“
N-no,
”
she said honestly,
“
not after I
’
d seen your legs.
”

He reached out a hand for her exercise book and idly began turning the pages.

“
You
’
d better leave me this to correct and get to bed. We
’
ll go through it together in the morning.
”

She scrambled to her feet and stood looking at him a little awkwardly.

“
I hope you didn
’
t mind me coming,
”
she said.
“
Aunt Bea said we weren
’
t to disturb you up here.
”

She still looked tired, but her expression was happier than when she had arrived.

“
Not at all,
”
he said kindly.
‘
You wanted someone to talk to, didn
’
t you?
”

She pushed the hair back from her forehead.

“
Yes, I
think
I did. May I come again?
”

He looked a little surprised.

“
Yes, of course, whenever you like. Are you going to be friends with me now, Clancy?
”

She stood there in the lamplight with that unconscious coltish grace which always touched him.

“
You can
’
t very well refuse to be friends with someone on whose bosom you
’
ve wept,
”
she said with quaint solemnity.
“
Good night, Mark.
”

She put out her hand and he gravely shook it.

“
Good night, Clancy,
”
he said.
“
Sleep well.
”