Across a Summer Sea (24 page)
It came on the last Friday of March in the middle of the morning.
‘Himself wants to see you, Mary, in the small drawing room. I was after filling up the turf basket when he said for me to tell you,’ Sonny announced on returning to the kitchen.
‘Will you go back and tell him I’ll be along directly I’ve changed my dress?’ she asked, casting an anxious look at Mrs Moran, who smiled encouragingly.
In her neat black dress, white cap and apron she knocked on the door of the small drawing room and entered.
‘You asked to see me, sir?’ She couldn’t keep the slight tremor of nervousness out of her voice.
‘I did, Mary. Please sit down.’
But Mary was too agitated to do so.
‘Is it about my . . . suitability, sir?’ she blurted out, standing rather stiffly by the door.
He turned away from her and glanced out of the window. The rain was cascading down the panes from a broken eaves shute and the yard looked sodden and miserable.
‘It is. Are you happy here? Have you and the children settled?’
‘Oh, yes, sir!
I’m
more than happy and the children are well. Tommy is delighted with himself, Katie likes her teacher and Lizzie has become rather a pet with both Mrs Moran and Bridie. I’m hoping to send her to school very soon. She’s better mixing with other children.’
I’m
more than happy and the children are well. Tommy is delighted with himself, Katie likes her teacher and Lizzie has become rather a pet with both Mrs Moran and Bridie. I’m hoping to send her to school very soon. She’s better mixing with other children.’
He turned to face her. ‘Is she really? It must be hard for her, she won’t be able to learn in the same way as the others.’
‘No, she can’t learn the same way. I’ve always tried my best with her but I’ve neither the time nor the skill to make much progress. Katie says Miss Collins has great patience, however.’
‘Well, it’s your decision. She’s your child,’ he answered rather curtly.
Mary felt a little apprehensive at his tone but tried not to show it.
‘You have improved this house greatly, Mary, and you are everything you promised you were. You suit me very well so if you are agreeable I think we can say the position is yours for as long as you want it, which I hope will be many years.’
Her face lit up. ‘Oh, thank you, sir! I’m so pleased. I don’t think I’ll ever want to leave. What else is there for me?’
‘It can be rather dull and quiet here.’
‘That’s fine by me. I’ve had more than enough of living in overcrowded houses and cities. I never want to live in one again.’
He smiled. ‘Good. Here are your wages.’ He handed her an envelope. ‘Is there anything you need?’
‘There’s nothing, thank you, sir. We’re very comfortable. Should I bring some tea, as it’s such a miserable morning?’
‘No, thank you, Mary. Despite the weather I have to go out, the rents are due. It’s not a duty I relish, especially at this time of year.’
‘I understand, sir,’ she said quietly.
He looked at her intently. ‘Do you? Do you
really
, Mary?’
really
, Mary?’
She met his gaze squarely and with sympathy. ‘Yes. Mrs Moran explained it to me.’
‘But you don’t approve?’
‘Whether I approve is not important, sir.’
He nodded slowly. She was right.
‘Will that be all, sir?’
‘It will,’ he replied, turning once more back towards the window to indicate the interview was over.
Mary let herself quietly out. There were times when she didn’t understand him at all. The way his mood changed from minute to minute was highly disconcerting.
He was glad he’d made the decision. She’d suited very well indeed but he was aware of a disturbing feeling deep inside himself. He didn’t want her to stay
just
because she had brought order and comfort to this house. He was growing fond of her. He’d begun to look forward to mealtimes because she served those meals. He often heard her singing softly to herself as she went about her work and once he had surprised her when he’d returned to his room and found her making his bed. That had disturbed him, to see her in his room, the pillow he laid his head on in her hands. The next night she had haunted his dreams. He had never met a woman like her before. Of course she wasn’t of his class or religion but she had a gentleness of manner, a quiet confidence that many of the so-called ‘ladies’ of his own rank lacked. And what had his class and religion ever done for him except cause him misery? He pulled himself up sharply. ‘Stop this, you fool!’ he admonished himself. She was a married woman with three children and she was his housekeeper - nothing more!
just
because she had brought order and comfort to this house. He was growing fond of her. He’d begun to look forward to mealtimes because she served those meals. He often heard her singing softly to herself as she went about her work and once he had surprised her when he’d returned to his room and found her making his bed. That had disturbed him, to see her in his room, the pillow he laid his head on in her hands. The next night she had haunted his dreams. He had never met a woman like her before. Of course she wasn’t of his class or religion but she had a gentleness of manner, a quiet confidence that many of the so-called ‘ladies’ of his own rank lacked. And what had his class and religion ever done for him except cause him misery? He pulled himself up sharply. ‘Stop this, you fool!’ he admonished himself. She was a married woman with three children and she was his housekeeper - nothing more!
After Lizzie had been at school a week Miss Collins came to see Mary. She was a pleasant woman in her late twenties. Mary ushered her into the kitchen politely.
‘Mrs McGann, I felt I had to come and speak to you about Lizzie.’
‘Is she any trouble? What has she been up to?’ Mary asked with concern.
‘No, she’s no trouble at all. The thing is, Mrs McGann, I don’t feel as though Lizzie will benefit from being in school. I don’t mean she’s not a bright child, she is, it’s just that I don’t feel . . . qualified, shall we say, to teach her. It’s a very small country school and there is only myself and I feel she is, well, left out.’
Mary nodded slowly. ‘I know. I sometimes have trouble myself. Katie is better with her than I am. It’s very difficult.’
The young woman looked sympathetic. ‘It must be, Mrs McGann, and you a stranger in these parts.’
Mary nodded again. ‘So, you think it would be better if I kept her here, at home?’
‘I do. I’m so sorry.’
‘Don’t worry about it. Your duty is to your other pupils. I wouldn’t want any of them to suffer because of Lizzie and, as you said yourself, we’re strangers in these parts. Thank you, Miss Collins, for taking the time and the trouble to come and see me personally. You must be very busy.’
‘Thank
you
, Mrs McGann, for being so understanding.’
you
, Mrs McGann, for being so understanding.’
Mary showed her out, feeling a little aggrieved. She had always spent as much time as possible with Lizzie, helped her as best she could. Well, now that she had sorted out the household she would spend more time with Lizzie. She would educate Lizzie herself. She’d find a way. Lizzie’d have enough problems when she grew up without being incapable of reading or even signing her name. No, she wasn’t having that.
She was preoccupied as she served her employer his lunch and it did not go unnoticed.
‘Is there something the matter, Mary?’ he asked.
‘No, not really, sir,’ she replied, thinking she should pay more attention to what she was doing.
‘You look troubled?’ he pressed. ‘Can’t you tell me about it?’
She sighed. ‘It’s Lizzie.’
‘What’s the matter with her?’
‘Oh, nothing really. It’s just that I had the teacher here to see me about her.’
‘What for?’ he demanded sharply. Had the woman come to complain?
‘She, Miss Collins, feels Lizzie would be better at home. I think she’s taking up too much of Miss Collins’s time, time she should spend with her other pupils. I don’t want any complaints about the children of
strangers
affecting the chances of the rest of the class.’
strangers
affecting the chances of the rest of the class.’
‘Is that what she said?’ he demanded, annoyed.
‘In so many words.’
He leaned back in his chair. ‘I’m sorry, Mary, that you should be tarred with the same brush as myself, so to speak.’
‘But you’re not a stranger, sir.’
‘I might as well be, though I have to say it’s of my own choosing. What will you do?’
‘I’ll keep her here at home and try and teach her myself as best I can.’
He smiled. She had called this place home. ‘If you’ll allow me, and if Lizzie won’t get upset,
I
will teach her.’
I
will teach her.’
‘
You
will, sir?’ Mary couldn’t have been more astonished.
You
will, sir?’ Mary couldn’t have been more astonished.
‘I wanted to be a doctor, Mary. I feel the plight of people . . . children like Lizzie, very keenly, and there are new ways of thinking, new methods of helping the deaf. Will you let me try? I will send to Dublin for books, papers to assist me. I have heard of a system by which she might be able to understand me. I think it’s been more fully developed now.’
Mary was very interested in this revelation. ‘She can lip-read, to an extent, but she finds it hard to follow a conversation and sometimes I wonder just how much she does understand. I’ve always wanted to help her more but I don’t know
how
to.’ She paused, choosing her words carefully, a little nervous as to how he would react. ‘This . . . system. Could . . . could I learn it? Could you teach me too?’
how
to.’ She paused, choosing her words carefully, a little nervous as to how he would react. ‘This . . . system. Could . . . could I learn it? Could you teach me too?’
He smiled. ‘I don’t see why not. When I’ve found out more and mastered it myself. It might be a little difficult.’
‘I don’t mind that. I’m determined to help her. I’m determined she won’t grow up wholly uneducated.’
‘I’m sorry, Mary. I didn’t mean to insult you. I just meant, let me try it out first.’
‘I’m not insulted, sir. I just want what’s best for Lizzie. And thank you. It’s very kind of you to take such an interest.’
‘ ’Tis little enough, Mary,’ he replied, dismissing her. He knew how it felt to live in a world where you were crippled in one way or another. Lizzie’s disability was physical, his was emotional, but if he could ease the child’s burden in any way, he would.
Mrs Moran made no comment when Mary told her of the conversation but she looked doubtful and concerned. Just what was Himself up to? She’d never known him to behave like this before. Were his concern and his attempts to teach the child just a means to an end?
The books and papers duly arrived from Dublin and there were occasions when he travelled up to the capital to learn more, ‘at first hand’ as he put it. It was the beginning of the strange relationship between the rather shy handicapped child and the taciturn social outcast. Gradually Lizzie became more and more relaxed in his presence and, Mary noticed, he seemed to have infinite patience with her. Each morning for an hour and a half and again in the afternoon he and the child were closeted in the small dining room while he attempted to teach her to fathom the meaning of words and to write. But, Mary had to admit, Lizzie seemed to enjoy the time. After four weeks he asked Mary to sit in with them.
‘It will seem very strange to you at first, Mary, but have patience and watch carefully. It’s really quite simple.’
Mary sat down and watched him curve his fingers into a half-circle and Lizzie immediately copied him. Then he wrote down a letter of the alphabet on a piece of paper and Lizzie copied that.
‘You see, Mary, each movement represents a letter or word. Lizzie is very bright, she’s picking it up very quickly.’
Mary nodded slowly.
He made a number of hand movements that Lizzie copied.
‘She’s saying, “How are you, Mother?”,’ he said gently.
Mary looked at the sparkling, intelligent eyes of her child and tears welled up. Lizzie was ‘talking’ to her! For the first time in her little life the child could in a way ‘speak’!
‘Will you . . . will you show me how to answer her?’ Mary’s voice was a little choked.
He was touched by her show of emotion. She must have felt the child’s disability very deeply. More deeply than he had realised. ‘Of course I will and I think that perhaps from now on, whenever you have some spare time, you should sit in with us.’
‘Oh, I will, sir! Thank you! It’s . . . it’s just so wonderful to see her little face light up like that!’
When in late spring Lizzie appeared at the end of her morning ‘lesson’ and proudly placed a piece of paper down on the table for her mother to read, Mary’s eyes misted with tears as she read the spidery and childish script. It was the first full piece Lizzie had ever written.
Elizabeth McGann. Age 6. Ballycowan Castle, Tullamore, King’s County, Ireland.
‘Well now, would you look at that! I would never have believed it,’ Mrs Moran said in some awe.
‘Neither would I. He’s done wonders for her. He’s a strange man.’
‘Oh, he’s that all right,’ Mrs Moran had said sagely but with a note in her voice that Mary couldn’t understand.
Next day it was bright and fine and as she went to peg out the washing she noticed that there were primroses and daffodils poking their heads from beneath the banks of trees that marked the castle’s perimeter. When she had finished her work this afternoon, maybe she’d walk down the canal line and meet Katie and Tommy from school. She’d take Lizzie with her. The sun felt warm on her back and she looked forward to summer out here in the country. It would be so different to the humid, stinking streets of Liverpool.
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