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Authors: Yelena Kopylova

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Hannah, her face unsmiling now, but her expression disarmingly soft, said, "You're not holding it against me about last night, are you? You see, I know Barny. Lass, if I'd given him the lot it would've been blued one way or another within a few months.... Aw, I know me lads; they haven't got the sense they were born with, not one of them, where money's concerned anywhere. And women. Although I've got nothing to say against Betty. " The inference was against Dennis's wife, and the mercurial change that came over Hannah's face for an instant expressed this fully.

"But, Ma." Rosie looked straight at Hannah.

"As Bamy said, | his share must go into a few him" ---- "Now look here!" Hannah was flapping her fingers within a few inches of Rosie's face. The action was annoying in itself, and Rosie moved her head to one side away from their contact as her mother exclaimed again, "Now look, lass, leave this to me, I know how to deal with me family. Barny won't go short, you needn't worry about that, but he's not going to throw money down the drain. He may be out of work for weeks-he has been afore and I've never thrown it up at him."

As Rosie turned away she thought. No, but you took every penny of his dole.

Opening the door, Hannah said under her breath, "You understand me, lass, now don't you?"

Rosie nodded, saying, "Bye-bye, Ma."

"Bye-bye, lass.... But look" --she blinked at the falling snow"--you can hardly see your hand afore you, you shouldn't be going out in

this."

"I like the snow. I'll be back by tea. Bye-bye."

"Bye-bye, lass. Bye-bye."

You understand me, lass, her mother had said. She had thought that the experience she had endured these last few months had stretched her mind so that she could now understand all the intricacies of human

behaviour. Badness, she had discovered, was relative. Everything was relative to something else. She understood that now. But even so she couldn't understand her mother. Her mother was too subtle. Yet some would say she was simple because she was ignorant--but her to other wasn't simple.

As Rosie said, she liked snow, but not to wander about in it all day, and not wanting to return home before the others were in, she spent the time during the afternoon in going to sec a film. So it was just on six o'clock when she alighted from the bus in the market place. There were a number of men waiting to get on the bus.

They weren't queueing orderly but standing in a bunch, and as she made her way through them a hand came out and caught her "arm; not roughly, yet the action almost made her scream. In the driving snow and dim light she did not recognise Ronnie for a moment, and when she did she dragged on her breath, filling her lungs with short gulps of air... and also with relief, for she had thought... she had thought.... " I'm sorry, Rosie, I. I didn't mean to startle you but you didn't see me.

"

"It's all right," she said. And then turning her head towards the bus, she pointed: "It's going, you'll miss if."

"It doesn't matter. I'd rather have a word with you."

She stood silent, waiting, while he looked at her, an undying hunger and ever-present remorse in his lodk.

"Don't be frightened of me, Rosie," he said.

"I'm not frightened." Her voice was soft, reassuring; and she meant what she said, for she wasn't afraid any more of Ronnie. At one time she had thought he was bad, but now she knew there was badness and badness, and if she had been forced to choose between the types of badness she knew she would take Ronnie's kind gratefully. Yet when he went to touch her, her whole body recoiled from him, and he stood, his hand half-outstretched, stiff, as was his voice when he said, "You're not frightened of me but you're wary. That's it, isn't it? I'm not safe, can't be trusted."

"Oh, Ronnie."

"Oh, I don't blame you. But Rosie" ---He moved, almost imperceivably, nearer to her.

"I've got to tell you. I... I can't get you out of me mind. I can't for one minute. I thought getting married an' that.... But it was no use. I'm in a hell of a mess inside, Rosie ... Rosie, I've got to see you."

"No, no." Her voice was harsh, even grating.

"You're married and that's that." She stepped aside from him.

"I said no, Ronnie, and I don't want any more trouble."

"Just to see you now and again to have a word ...?"

"I said no." She was some feet from him now.

"I'll be leaving the town shortly, anyway, and I won't be coming back."

As she watched his head slowly move downwards she darted 3--HM

away and ran across the open market square to where a bus was standing that would take her to the top of their street. She was trembling as she sat down. She was still trembling when the conductor came for her fare.

"Enough to kill a horse, this," he said.

"It's no wonder there's nobody out. You look froze."

She said she was. She wished he would leave her and go down the bus; men could always find excuses to talk.

When she entered the house her mother's voice did not greet her

to-night, but she heard it coming from the living-room, saying, "I don't believe a word of it." She took off her wet things and hung them on the rack behind the kitchen door, and she was stroking her damp hair from her forehead when she entered the living-room.

Only her father addressed her immediately.

"Some night, isn't it, lass? Are you froze? Come to the fire."

As she made her way to the fire her mother turned from the four men at the table, saying, "Have you heard anything about this?"

"About what?" asked Rosie.

"About him, Hughie, buying a car and a caravan? Shane here's just come in and told us that he's bought a car and a caravan ... Hughie. Did you ever hear the like of it?"

"I tell you, Ma," said Shane, "it's a fact." He looked around his brothers now.

"It was as I said, up came Robbie Gallagher and he said, " Your brother'--he thought Hughie was me brother--he said, "Your brother's done well for himself with our Paul's car and caravan." And like I said, I told him he'd made a mistake, and he said, "Your brother keeps a cobbler's shop, doesn't he? And his name is Hughie, isn't it?"

"Aye," I said.

"Well," he said, 'he's bought our Paul's Land-Rover and caravan for five hundred quid. He bought them just two years ago but there was still some to pay off. Your brother saw to that and gave him five

hundred for the two. But he's still got a bargain. "

" Hannah was looking from one to the other but she wasn't seeing them, she was thinking back, and she said aloud under her breath, " The swine's been cocky this past few weeks. " She looked at her husband now and asked, " Does he do the pools? "

"How should I know, woman? I've never been with him this last ten years."

"Well, does he?" She turned to her sons, and one after the other they shook their heads.

"Not that I know," said Jimmy.

"I asked him to go in the club syndicate, but he said he hadn't the cash."

- "Five hundred pounds! five hundred pounds I" Hannah was blinking.

"And anybody who spends five hundred pounds on a car an' caravan has more than five hundred pounds. It would be just like him to have a win and keep it to himself.... But what would he be wanting a car and a caravan for?" She was now addressing Shane.

"Search me, unless he's goin' touring. Aye, likely that's what he's going to 'do. When I come to think about it, he used to be always

sending away for travel catalogues. You remember?" He jerked his head at Jimmy.

Jimmy said, "Aye. Aye, come to think of it, the back shop used to be full of 'em."

"Well, if he's had a win," said Broderick, knocking the dottle from his pipe against the bars of the fire, "good luck to him. Aye, I say good luck to him. I only hope it will be my turn next. And if it is" --he straightened up and thrust out his hand towards Rosie's chin"--I'll take me daughter to Paris and we'll do the sights. Begod!

We would, wouldn't we, Rosie? "

"Stop talkin' sheelagin, Broderick, for Christ's sake! ... Now what I'd like to know is where that 'un's got the cash from. And how

much.

Because . "

"Because what?" Broderick was looking at Hannah steadily.

"Never you mind. I'll keep it to me self until I see which way the wind's blowing. In the meantime, sit you all down and get your teas; it will be as cold as darts in a minute if it isn't already. Oh,

lass"--she forced a stiff smile on her face-- " I've- left yours in the oven. Would you be goin' getting' it? "

Rosie went into the kitchen, and as she opened the oven door the back door opened and Hughie entered. With a swift glance towards the other door she went towards him and muttered hastily under her breath, "They know, Hughie, about the money. Shane heard about the caravan and

car."

Hughie had his cap in his hand and he turned and hung it on the hook on the door next to' her coat before looking at her again. His smile was quiet; his whole attitude seemed serene to her, while she herself was feeling strung up and nervous; first from her encounter with Ronnie, and then from the feeling her mother's attitude towards Hughie aroused in her. She went hastily back to the oven and was taking out the plate when again the back door opened, with a thrust this time, which almost knocked Hughie off his feet, and Karen exclaimed as she came in, "Well, you don't expect me to see through it, do you?" He straightened the sleeve of the coat he was hanging on the door as he said, "No, I don't," Karen was pulling her outdoor things off now, and, looking at Rosie's retreating back, she said, "It's not a night to linger on the doorstep; it's all right for some people who can stay put all day."

Rosie hesitated; then glancing quickly over her shoulder said, "I've just come in."

"Poor soul! Have you had to battle against the elements an' all? It isn't fair, is it?"

As Rosie went on into the living-room without retorting to this, Karen turned to find Hughie staring at her from across the table in a

peculiar way, and she asked, "What you looking at me like that for? I don't happen to be a man so I'm not in love with her. Men are fools gormless idiots." She flounced her body around, but turned it back as swiftly again, saying, "As for you, you haven't got the gumption you were born with."

"No, I haven't, have I?" , The admission was disconcerting, and all Karen could say to it was, "Oh, my God."

When she entered the living-room, Hannah spoke to her across the room, saying, "Who is that out there?"

"Hughie, of course. Who else would it be, you're all here?" The sharp, round eyes swept the table, and the voice with which she had answered her grandmother bore no resentment for the blow she had

received yesterday. She did not blame Hannah for that. She knew who was to blame.

Hannah knew it was Hughie in the kitchen. She had asked a voiceless question of Rosie when she had come back into the room--she had done it with the jerk of her head--and Rosie had answered with a single nod, her eyes downcast.

And then Hughie came in. He came in as he always did, quietly, his whole manner unassuming, not looking towards the table, not looking at anything really.

They were all seated except Hannah. She stood to the side of her chair and she stopped him when he was opposite the fireplace--he was going, as he always did, to bring his chair from the corner to the table. She stopped him by saying, "Well!"

"Well what?" He was looking straight back at her.

"What's this I'm hearing?"

"I wouldn't know. You don't often tell me any news."

"Have you or have you not bought a car and a caravan?"

Rosie was looking at Hughie now. She had an odd feeling inside of her, a racing, excited, odd feeling. Whereas yesterday she felt that she wouldn't be able to bear seeing her mother vanquished, now she knew that if Hughie were to come out on top her mother would have to be brought low, and, she wished, oh, she even prayed, that he would show her, show them all what he Was really made of, and he could only do that by talking. Oh, if he would only talk as he had talked in the back room of the shop. Talk as he wrote.

And he did.

"Yes, I've bought a caravan and a car." Hughie looked from Hannah around the staring faces at the table. Jimmy's, Arthur's, Shane's, Bamy's, Broderick's, and lastly Karen's. He looked longer at Karen than at the rest; he did not look at Rosie. And then he was staring at Hannah once more.

"Where did you get the money?"

"I came into it."

"You--came--into--it?"

"That's what I said."

"Was it a win or something, Hughie?" Broderick's good- tempered tone tried to bring a lightness into the proceedings.

"No, it wasn't a win, Broderick." Hughie was "smiling gently down on the elderly man, who alone in this house had ever gone out of his way to show him a kindness.

"It was a legacy, Broderick."

"A legacy!" Hannah had grabbed at the lead again. Her eyes screwed up, her brows beetling, her chin pulled in to the deep flesh of her neck, she repeated, "A legacy! Who, in the name of God, have you got to leave you a legacy, I ask you that?"

"I happen to have had a sister. Perhaps you've forgotten about her."

"Your sister! But she was no better than ..." Hannah prevented herself from adding, me self instead she turned it into "the rest of us. She went to America as a servant if I remember rightly."

"She went as a nurse-companion if you Temember rightly," corrected Hughie.

"And she was left some money. But unfortunately she didn't live long enough to enjoy it, and before she died she remembered me."

Hannah, her eyes still on Hughie, groped at the back of her

MASSCI

chair. She wanted very much to sit down but she remained standing.

"When did this happen, Hughie?" It was Arthur on his feet now, coming round the table.

"Oh, some weeks ago, around Christmas time. It takes a while for these things to get settled."

"By! You're a deep 'un." Shanc, too, had risen to his feet.

"An' keepin' this to yourself all the time," he said.

"How much did she leave you?" It was the first time Bamy had spoken.

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