A Glimpse at Happiness (26 page)
‘What
is
the matter, Josie?’ Ellen asked.
is
the matter, Josie?’ Ellen asked.
Looking at her mother’s drawn face, Josie wondered whether she should tell her. She so wanted to. They had shared so much hardship before Robert that they had a bond which would never be broken but, as she took in her mother’s pinched face, she knew that she couldn’t worry her now.
What could she say, anyway? That she was in love with Patrick but his wife was still alive? Could she also tell her mother, just having risen from her sick bed, that not only was she in love with a married man but in her weakest moment, when her need of Patrick almost overwhelmed her, she’d contemplated becoming his wife without the benefit of the Church?
No. She could not. Not just yet.
Ignoring her aching heart, Josie put on her brightest smile. ‘I’ll miss you, that’s all.’
‘Are you sure?’ Ellen’s sharp eyes examined Josie’s face carefully. ‘It’s not something about Patrick?’
Josie gave a hollow laugh. ‘No. I doubt I’ll see much of him now that Mattie’s married.’
‘I’m sure it’s for the best,’ Ellen continued in a cheerful tone. ‘In time you will meet someone else - someone you already know perhaps.’ She winked at Josie. ‘I thought I might invite Mr Arnold to tea before Robert and I leave.’
Josie ignored the chasm of unhappiness before her and forced a smile. ‘That would be nice.’
A satisfied smile spread across her mother’s face. She leant forward and patted Josie’s hand. ‘William Arnold might not have grand curly hair but he has prospects, and his godfather
is
Sir Edgar Wilmore.’
is
Sir Edgar Wilmore.’
Chapter Fourteen
Josie bit the end of the quill and re-read the first paragraph of her letter.
Dear Mam,I hope that this letter finds you in improved health and enjoying the sights of Edinburgh. We are all going on fine here although we miss you and Pa greatly. The weather in London is fair although there was a thunder storm last week.
She stopped as sorrow welled up from deep inside. Since her mother and stepfather had departed for Scotland, Josie had found that being in the house with Mrs Munroe wasn’t as bad as she’d imagined it might be. It was ten times worse.
The children have had some adjustment to make as Mrs Munroe isn’t able to keep up with the younger ones, so she has introduced a few quiet activities to their daily regime.
A half smile formed itself on Josie lips. That was a windy road way of saying that all the fun and laugher and afternoons playing with toys had been replaced by hours of Bible readings and prayers.
She also believes the childrens’ diet to be too rich and has asked Mrs Woodall to modify some of her dishes.
Despite her despondency, a quirky smile moved her lips. Unfortunately, she couldn’t put Mrs Woodall’s lively comments on the matter down in the letter.
The children miss you but I have explained that you will soon be back. Joe has had a couple of nights when he woke shouting but I snuggled him in with me and now he has returned to the nursery without further incidents.
That was true, but she didn’t feel that she could add that he had started wetting his bed again or that he clung to her hand when Mrs Munroe undertook her daily nursery inspection.
Mrs Munroe has expressed a desire to have the parlour for her own use in the afternoons so I have moved the nursing chair from your room into mine and now Lottie and Bobby sew with me in here each afternoon.
And give them a respite from Mrs Munroe’s ever critical eye, she thought but didn’t write.
George had a fever last week but is now fully recovered
.
Josie stopped and chewed the tip of the pen again. Her mother should be resting and recovering and, although Josie didn’t want to upset her in any way, she felt she should know the truth about the incident.
I know that Pa doesn’t hold with such things, but before I could explain his views on old remedies Mrs Munroe had already secured a blister plaster on George’s stomach to draw out the humours. I am sorry to tell you that before nurse informed me of what was happening the vitriol and paraffin had been on George’s skin for a half an hour. Thankfully, after applying camomile lotion the redness has completely disappeared. He is quite recovered and back to riding his toy horse around the garden.
Josie’s brows pulled together. It looked as if she was telling tales but poor George had practically screamed the house down as the caustic substances scalded his skin. She held the pen aloft as she considered what to write next. It would sound like carping again but there was no other way of putting it.
I am afraid that after I confronted Mrs Munroe on the matter and about her readiness to reach for the rod, our relationship has cooled considerably
.
That was to say they barely spoke and if one entered a room the other left; however, Josie felt she’d said enough. Besides, it wasn’t to tell tales on Mrs Munroe that she was writing to her mother. She filled the nib with ink again.
I have visited Sophie Cooper twice last week to undertake our regular pastoral visits and Mr Arnold called for tea. He is a very pleasant young man and I know it is your hope that I would look more favourably on him. I have tried but I cannot. It isn’t his fault, Mam, but he isn’t Patrick.
During the day, with her time fully occupied counterbalancing Mrs Munroe’s puritanical rule, Josie had almost convinced herself that she could wait for Patrick to be free, but the nights were a different matter. She jabbed the pen in the inkwell again.
Now, Ma, I know I should have told you this before you went but I hope you will forgive me that I did not and for what I am about to write . . .
Bobby and Lottie trod quietly past the half-open door of their grandmother’s bedroom and across the first floor landing. Holding her breath, Bobby nodded at her sister and Lottie nodded back. Bobby craned her neck forward and peeked in the room. Her grandmama was sitting on the bed with her eyes closed and her Bible open on her lap. Bobby knew that she should love her grandmother, but since she’d waved her parents goodbye they had all suffered - it was the only word she could use for it - under her grandmother’s miserable regime.
Pressing her back to the wall, Bobby took hold of her sister’s hand and they slid along the corridor towards Josie’s bedroom. Bobby knocked quietly and when Josie called ‘enter’ she and Lottie went through.
Josie was sitting at her small bureau scratching away at a sheet of her writing paper. She looked up from her task as they entered, and gave them a smile. ‘Bobby, I thought you were with your grandmother. I heard Daisy say she was looking for you a while back.’
‘Well, she didn’t find us,’ Lottie said, kicking off her shoes and jumping on Josie’s bed. She propped herself against the wooden headboard and crossed her arms across her white pinafore. ‘I know Papa wants us to love her but I don’t,’ Lottie announced.
‘She must be at least a hundred and she had a sort of dark smell about her.’
Bobby slipped her pumps off, too, and joined her sister on the bed while Josie resumed her letter.
‘Josie, you’re frowning again,’ Bobby said.
‘Am I?’
‘Is it because your friend Mattie is married and you’re not?’ Lottie asked before Bobby could nudge her.
Josie put a bright smile on her face. ‘Good heavens! What ever gave you that idea?’
‘Because Grandmama says you should have been married a long time ago,’ Lottie said, pulling her face into a creditable resemblance of Mrs Munroe’s long features.
‘Does she?’
Lottie nodded. ‘And she told us that she thinks it would have been better if you’d married someone in America and settled there.’
Bobby elbowed her sister in the ribs. ‘Grandmama thinks all sorts of odd things, Lottie. Like that girls should not eat meat as it inflames their spirits,’ Bobby said, thinking how Mrs Woodall’s tasty plates of steak and onions had been replaced by thin broths with grease floating on the surface.
She had overheard Daisy whisper to Nurse that there was more goodness in the washing up water and Bobby was inclined to agree. It was only after Josie had confronted Mrs Munroe on their behalf that they still had jam on the table in the morning.
Lottie continued undaunted. ‘But
I
said if you just wanted to be married you could marry Mr Arnold.’
I
said if you just wanted to be married you could marry Mr Arnold.’
Josie said nothing and turned back to her letter.
‘Are you writing to Mama and Papa?’ Bobby asked, before Lottie could speak again.
‘Yes I am. I know you’ve already sent your letters to them this week, but I’ll give them your love again if you like.’
‘Yes, please,’ said Bobby. ‘Will you be telling them about George and the plaster?’ she asked in as neutral a voice as she could.
Josie gave her a little smile. ‘I have put in a couple of lines,’ she admitted.
Thank goodness
, thought Bobby, wondering how long it would take her sister’s letter to reach Edinburgh.
, thought Bobby, wondering how long it would take her sister’s letter to reach Edinburgh.
Josie scratched out a few more lines and Lottie picked up Josie’s old doll that lived propped up on the headboard.
Waisy was practically colourless now after years of washing and was almost the last reminder of Mama’s and her sister Josie’s old life.
Bobby’s eyebrows drew together. For some odd reason it was because of the terrible life Mama and Josie had lived before they met Papa that Grandmama disliked Josie so much. Bobby couldn’t understand it. Surely if Grandmama was a Christian, she should rejoice that Josie was no longer poor.
‘Josie,’ Lottie said, rocking her sister’s old rag doll in her arms. Josie looked up. ‘
Are
you going to marry Mr Arnold?’
Are
you going to marry Mr Arnold?’
Josie’s eyes looked suddenly very bright. ‘I don’t think so.’
Bobby drew in a deep breath. ‘Are you going to marry Patrick?’
Josie struggled to keep the bright smile in place. ‘Of course not, we are just friends, that’s all - friends.’
Bobby felt, rather than heard, the sob in her sister’s voice.
Ever since the wedding, Josie had been her lovely sister on the outside - all smiles and kindnesses - but Bobby knew that inside Josie was sad. She knew that Patrick was the reason Josie appeared at breakfast each morning with red-rimmed eyes. A wave of compassion welled up in her.
‘Oh, Josie.’
Josie bit her bottom lip as her eyes filled with tears. Bobby slid off the bed and Lottie did the same. Both of them dashed over to their sister and hugged her tightly.
‘I’m sorry,’ Bobby said as she felt the sting of tears in her own eyes. ‘I shouldn’t have mentioned Patrick.’ That brought another huge sob from her sister. Bobby patted her shoulders, feeling very grown up.
Josie lifted her tear-stained face and wiped her wet eyes with her fingers. ‘I’m just being silly.’ She kissed Bobby and Lottie. ‘Now I have to get on with this letter. Mam and Pa are only staying with your aunt Hermione for another week and then they catch the coach north, and who knows how long it will take for the letter to reach them. I must finish soon so that Sam can take it to the post office.’
Lottie skipped back and took Waisy to the window where she started a game with her. Bobby sat back on the bed and studied her sister. Why did Josie say that Patrick was just her friend when it was obvious that she loved him? And why couldn’t she marry him?
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