The English Tutor (3 page)

“
Don
’
t—don
’
t, Clancy,
”
he implored.
“
It
’
s no good, you know, when Kilmallin makes up his mind.
”

“
I
’
ve made up mine, too,
”
she retorted.
“
An
Englishman
!
I
’
ll not stand for it.
”

“
You
’
ll have to,
”
he said prosaically.
“
Anyhow, he
’
ll be better than the governesses—silly cows.
”

Clancy snatched up an old mackintosh and slung it round her shoulders.

“
I
’
m going to tell Conn,
”
she said.
“
Coming?
”

He looked dubious.

“
It
’
s still raining. Agnes would make a scene.
”

“
All right, stay, then. But I
’
m going. I must get out of this house.
”

“
The loch will be rough.
”

“
I
’
ve taken the boat over in worse than this. Tell Aunt Bea I won
’
t be back for tea.
”

She banged the front door behind her, and ran across the wet lawn to the little wooden jetty and untied the dinghy.

As the boat pulled away she could see Brian at the schoolroom window watching her. She waved, but he did not respond and she pulled angrily on her oars. Now Brian would sulk because he was left behind.

The rain beat in her face, cooling her hot cheeks, and, almost ousting her anger, was the fear that her father might carry out his threat. Not to see Conn! To be denied that refuge all on account of a Sassenach! It must not be, whatever she had to endure from the hands of the enemy.

It was only a short distance across the loch, and soon she was making fast the dinghy at the Driscoll jetty and climbing the steep path to the little farmstead where Conn lived alone since the death of his father a year ago. She ran through the house shouting his name, but there was only old Bridie in the kitchen making potato cakes.

“
Something awful
’
s happened to us. Where
’
s Conn?
”
Clancy cried.

Bridie turned a dispassionate face from the heat of the fire and smiled.

“
Sure, he
’
s in the cow byre. He
’
ll be in directly,
”
she answered.
“
Let you sit down, Miss Clancy, and steam. You
’
re wet through to your skin.
”

“
No, I must tell him at once, it
’
s awful,
”
Clancy said,
“
Conn! Conn!
”
she called, as she reached the cow byre which was now part of Conn
’
s makeshift stables.
“
Something terrible has happened! Kilmallin is getting a tutor for us, and what do you think—he
’
s
E
nglish
!
”

He was squatting in one of the stalls bandaging the near foreleg of a grey mare.

“
Lend a hand, Clancy,
”
he said.
“
Hold her head and stop her nipping me. I
’
ve nearly done.
”

She took the mare
’
s muzzle between her hands and gently caressed her.

“
Did you hear what I said, Conn? We
’
re to have a tutor—an English tutor,
”
she said, her eyes looking enormous in the
dim
light of the stable.

“
Well, what
’
s terrible about that?
”
he asked absently, collecting his first-aid box and stowing it on a shelf.
“
I always said Brian was getting too old for governesses.
”

“
But he
’
s
English
—a Sassenach—a foreigner!
”

He looked at her outraged face and his eyes twinkled.
“
Oh!
”
he said.
“
Yes, I see. Well, you know, Clancy, there
’
s a lot of wild talk about the English, but they
’
re not so bad.
”

“
Co
nn
!
”
Her eyes accused him.
“
But it was you who said
—”

He flung an arm about her shoulders and rumpled her wet hair.

“
I said a lot of foolish things when I was a boy,
”
he told her.
“
My father bore the grudge on account of
his
father, but that was all long ago, and Granddad died like many another, and Ireland is free.
”

She pulled away from him.

“
Ireland is free
beca
use
of men like your grandfather,
”
she cried.
“
They were martyrs and you should never forget.
”

“
They were soldiers fighting for their country and the
war
’
s long over.
”

“
I don
’
t understand you,
”
she said.
“
All I know of Ireland
’
s
history I learnt from you. Never forget, you told me the Irish never forgive an injury.
”

His rather ugly face looked rueful.

“
I turned you into a proper little rebel, Miss Clancy O
’
Shane,
”
he said.
‘
What have the English ever done to
you?”

“
In 1598
—”
began Clancy swiftly, but he pushed her
towards the door.

“
Ah, have done, you firebrand!
”
he laughed.
“
For what did I ever want to go and fix dates so firmly in your silly head? It
’
s all you
’
ve ever learnt from your schooling. Come up to the house and dry off. Bridie will give u
s
tea.
”

She walked beside him in silence, thinking how much he had changed of late. It did not seem so very long ago when she used to sit on the floor, listening while the young Conn, the firelight ruddy on his hair and flashing eyes, had painted the wrongs of Ireland for her in passionate phrases she never forgot. But since his father had died and the farm and the need to make his own living had been his, there had been less and less of the old talk. It seemed to Clancy that he took life altogether less seriously, and the rare trips to England connected with his horses, instead of convincing him of the truth of his old ideas, appeared to do the opposite.

He shouted to Bridie for tea, and Clancy automatically set the table, just as she had done a hundred times before while Conn in a shabby armchair by the fire leafed through the current copy of
Irish Country Life.
Presently Bridie came from the kitchen with plates of the newly made potato cakes dripping with farm butter and the honey that Aunt Bea always sent over from Kilmallin, and a vast plain cake which Clancy knew would be nicely damp in the middle.

“
The child should dry,
”
she remarked disapprovingly.
“
She looks as if she
’
s swam the loch, no less.
”

“
Oh, Clancy never catches cold,
”
Conn said carelessly.
“
She
’
ll dry out after tea.
”

Clancy lifted the enormous brown teapot and began pouring out the strong black tea. Since she had been almost too little to hold it, she had performed this office for Conn and his father, remembering four lumps of sugar for Conn and no cream, and cream for Denis Driscoll and no sugar. But today the charm had gone from the little ceremony. Her own momentous news had passed unheeded and she felt as though she had lost an ally.

“
You
’
re very quiet,
”
Conn said suddenly.
“
As a rule you talk me nearly dizzy.
”

“
Conn
”
—she pushed back her plate, unable for once to do justice to Bridie
’
s baking—
“
I cannot work for an Englishman, whatever Kilmallin may say.
Think
of having
English history crammed down my throat like a lot of lies. It would choke me.
”

“
It would surprise you, I don
’
t doubt,
”
he said with a grin.
“
Didn
’
t your governesses try to teach you English history?
”

“
Not very hard. My Aunt Kate says I taught them Irish history they never knew.
”

“
I shouldn
’
t be at all surprised, if it
’
s what you learnt from me.
”

“
But, Conn, it was all true, what you used to tell me.
”

“
Sure it was true, but you never heard the other side.
”

“
I don
’
t want to hear the other side.
”

“
Well, that
’
s very narrow-minded of you.
”

“
If,
”
said Clancy slowly,
“
I had told you about our English tutor three—even two years ago, you would have raged.
”

“
Would I so?
”
He scratched his red head.
“
Ah, well, I was a boy then—not much older than you are now. You
’
ll learn when you
’
re my age.
”

“
When I
’
m twenty-two,
”
said Clancy severely,
“
I’ll
be no different from what I am now.
”

“
Your English tutor will change all that,
”
he teased, but she was in no mood for teasing.

“
I
’
m too old for a tutor at all,
”
she burst out,
“
and so I
told Kilmallin.”

“
You
’
re no different now from when you were Brian
’
s age,
”
he scoffed.
“
You haven
’
t even grown very much. I
’
m thinking Kilmallin is right. You can still do with a tutor, and a man at that, who won
’
t let himself be pushed around like those poor women. Oh, yes, me poor child, you
’
re going to have a hard time of it. The English are very good governors.
”

“
No Englishman will govern me,
”
she said coldly.

“
Ah, stop giving battle!
”
he said good-naturedly.
“
He
’
s probably some little dried-up old professor who can hardly keep body and soul together. Not worth your powder and shot.
”

‘
Yes, I suppose he
’
s bound to be old—old and crabbity. Most of the governesses were.
”