Light A Penny Candle (32 page)

‘Even as long ago as then …?’

‘Oh yes.’

‘And did it make her more content?’

‘Did what. …’

‘Did I make her more content…?’

‘In a way, yes.’

‘And what were your happiest times in those days, Father?’

‘Really my dear, I don’t enjoy this conversation. It’s probing and it’s too personal, and in a way it’s impertinent. People don’t ask other people those kind of questions.’

‘But how are people ever going to know what people feel…?’

‘They know enough my dear. It’s not necessary to know everything about people.’

‘You’re not right Father. It’s necessary to know much more than you want to know. You wouldn’t mind if you knew nothing about anyone just so long as people behaved correctly.’

‘That’s not true.’

‘Oh but it
is
true. I’m begging you. I’m reaching out and begging you to tell me about yourself so that I can tell you about me … and make you involved in what I’m doing and feeling. …’

‘But I am very interested in what you do, and very proud of you. You mustn’t accuse me of. …’

‘Did you ever talk to Mother about feelings, you know, and what you thought and what you wanted and how much you loved her …?’

‘Elizabeth, really.’

‘Because honestly, if you didn’t, then I know why she went away. It was nothing to do with your not being good enough, or Harry being better. She probably went because she was lonely. …’

‘And do you think that her fancy Harry Elton is a great philosopher? Do you seriously think he sits down and debates about the meaning of life like you want …? Huh, what a thought.’

‘No I don’t suppose for a moment he does. But he makes up for it by laughing and joking. The ideal thing would be to have someone who could do both, but I’m beginning to think there’s no way you can have the best of both worlds. And Father, if you won’t laugh and you won’t talk then you’re the very worst of both worlds. …’

Father stood up and his face was hurt and red. His face muscles were working and his hands were clenched at his sides. He had never looked more wretched and humiliated.

‘Well,’ he stammered eventually. ‘Well, I must say. I don’t know what I did to deserve this, I really don’t. I was out there in the garden minding my own business, and you come home in a state. You come home and criticise the way I’m doing the garden, even though you never came out to give me a hand in it before … you criticise the way I spent my youth. You attack me for not being able to recall every second of your own life before and after you were born. …’ His voice gathered into a sob. ‘And then, as if that isn’t enough, you hurl accusations at me about hurtful things and upsetting times … and blame me for your mother walking out on her duty and running away.’

He had such pain in his voice that he could hardly get the words out.

‘I really don’t know what brought all this on. I can only
hope
that you had a tiff with your young man, and that I needn’t expect this kind of performance again.’

Father had never before acknowledged that Johnny was her young man. His brain would never now take in the intelligence that she and this young man had been rolling around naked on a floor in Earls Court a few hours previously and that she was very probably carrying the young man’s child, and that there had been no tiff and nor would there be one.

But the spell hadn’t worked. Father was not cheered up, Father was far from cheered up. This must mean that she was indeed pregnant.

She stood up.

‘You are quite right. I
had
a silly tiff. It is unforgivable of me to have taken it out on you. Quite unforgivable. I really apologise.’

Then she went upstairs, took some five-pound notes out of her savings box and wrote to Aisling.

X

AISLING HAD MORE
adventures on her journey to London than she had ever been through in her life. She felt that she had been quite right to tell Tony Murray that she must go out and see the world.

On the boat to Holyhead, an extremely handsome man with his shirt open at the neck had bought her a brandy and lemonade, not heeding her protests that she wouldn’t like it. Then he had taken her for a walk on deck, told her she was the most beautiful girl in the world, tried to kiss her, apologised, proposed marriage to her, and finally went into a corner and got very sick. Aisling, who had not realised that he was drunk, had her eyes wide and round in horror at it all, but was rescued by two university students who were going to get a holiday job canning vegetables and tried to persuade her to join them.

On the train going down to London she met a young Welsh school teacher who told her that he was going to live in London because he couldn’t stand his village any longer. Everyone was trying to pressurise him to get
married
. He felt that he should see the world first. Aisling eagerly told him of her own tale and how she was determined to see as much of the world as she could in two weeks, which was the holiday she had wrung from Daddy with difficulty. The Welshman was very scathing about the two-week element of it, he said it wasn’t nearly enough. She should go for much longer. Perhaps they should even go to France on a boat. But that was too wild for Aisling, she explained she was coming to see her friend because of a crisis. Her friend wanted someone to help her on her father’s birthday. The Welshman said that the friend sounded like someone from a madhouse. Sending money over to Ireland for someone to come to her father’s birthday. After four years too. He put his finger to his forehead and turned it around in further explanation of how loopy he thought the friend must be. Aisling then felt resentful of him and returned to her book.

Even at Euston station a middle-aged man asked her if she was lost and said he would be happy to share a taxi with her. But Aisling was looking out for Elizabeth.

She had telephoned Elizabeth early the morning after she got the letter and said of course, she would come that very night. Elizabeth’s accent sounded very English like the people in the films who said ‘frightfully’ and ‘jolly’. She said that Euston was a huge place but there were no problems because if Aisling just stayed there at the barrier when she came off the train they would have no trouble finding each other.

‘When I came over four years ago, I thought I’d been abandoned,’ Elizabeth had said.

‘Sure, weren’t we only children then,’ said Aisling, dismissing it.

Still Aisling’s eyes roamed anxiously through the crowds and she paused to comb her hair so that she would make a good impression. She wished she had a smarter suitcase. This one which Mother had used years ago was far too shabby for her nice new turquoise summer coat. But it had been a matter of buying new shoes or a new suitcase and the shoes seemed more important.

She must have walked right past Elizabeth, eyes still roaming the crowd, darting here and there looking for the pale blonde fifteen-year-old but with a few grown-up clothes on nowadays. Then Elizabeth pulled at her sleeve. …

‘Aisling?’ she said, almost hesitantly.

Aisling spun round.

They looked at each other for a moment … as if the words and greetings and reactions had been blown out of them like air after a punch in the solar plexus.

They spoke at the same instant.

‘Elizabeth, you saved my life by inviting me to come over. …’

‘Oh, Aisling, you’ve literally saved my life. …’

Then they burst out laughing. And Aisling linked arms.

‘Maybe we’re Siamese twins that should never have been separated. Maybe we’re going to go on saying the same thing at the same time always.’

‘Maybe, maybe,’ laughed Elizabeth. She tried to lift up the suitcase but it was heavy.

‘What on earth have you in this, rocks?’ she asked.

Aisling took it back. ‘No, food from the land of plenty. They all went mad: cake for your dad’s birthday, side of bacon smoked, oh and butter, all wrapped up in newspapers ten times and in a tin. I hope to God it’s not running all over the case and destroying every rag I’ve got in it.’

Elizabeth squeezed her arm and Aisling saw with surprise that in Elizabeth’s pale attractive face there were tears in the big blue eyes.

‘In a million years you’ll never know how glad I am to see you.’

‘And me to see you. On the bus to Dublin I began to worry in case you’d have got all different, but you’re not. You’re thinner though. Is it the fashion or is it this country full of shortages?’ She patted Elizabeth’s flat stomach admiringly. ‘There’s none of you there. You’re what they’d call a rake, in Kilgarret. I’m dead jealous.’

‘Oh there’s more than you think,’ said Elizabeth and got a fit of helpless giggles which were so infectious that Aisling started to laugh too though she couldn’t see why.

They stood under the big arch at Euston, unaware of the admiring and interested glances which were directed at the redhead and blonde, both of them wiping their eyes and clutching on to each other with a mirth that had quite a lot of hysteria in it.

From the start Aisling got on well with Father. Elizabeth could hardly believe how well she handled him. Father had
been
only mildly interested to hear that the visitor was arriving and had helped to take some of the boxes and other bits of lumber from the spare room to stack them in the garden shed. Elizabeth had gone to great trouble to make the guest room look nice. She had picked flowers and even bought a mirror from Johnny in the shop.

‘Staff discount,’ he had said, halving the price.

‘Hey, come on, we’re not going to cheat Mr Worsky. …’

‘When oh when will anyone realise that this is Worsky and Stone. … I am a partner here, cherub, I am trusted and loved. I cheat myself if I give it to you cheap. …’

‘I’m a worker here, Mr Stone. … I don’t want to see the business I have pride in go down the drain. …’

They laughed. Johnny was in great form this week. He was disappointed that they couldn’t meet because of her preparations for the friend from Ireland, but he took it lightly.

‘Is she pretty, the colleen?’ he asked.

‘She used to be super. I think I’m going to keep her well hidden from you.’

‘Perhaps she wants a chap to show her the sights of London,’ he teased.

‘Perhaps, but I don’t think so. The local lord or squire wants to marry her. She’s coming over here to have a think about it.’

‘Marry? What does she want to get married at her age for? She’s only the same age as you,’ said Johnny.

‘I know, it’s ridiculous,’ said Elizabeth, lifting her voice right up with almost a physical effort. ‘Perhaps she’ll
change
her mind about it when she sees the delights of London.’

Aisling had loved the room, the flowers, the pretty mirror. She had marvelled at everything: the red buses, the red pillar boxes. The neat gardens, the rows and rows of houses – she couldn’t believe so many people must live in one place.

They were having tea at the kitchen table when Father came in. At once Aisling went into the attack.

‘You’re never a man who’s going to be fifty years, Mr White, are you?’ she said before any ridiculous introductions were made.

‘Well … er … how do you do … that’s right I … er. …’

‘Father, this is Aisling,’ said Elizabeth unnecessarily.

‘Well, it’s some kind of mistake I think. I tell you Mr White, my father is fifty-one and he looks ten, fifteen years older than you. I mean that now, not a word of a lie.’

Elizabeth thought Father would recoil from such over-familiarity but to her amazement she saw him almost preening.

‘I’m sure that your father. …’

‘I don’t have a picture of him or I’d prove it to you. Come on now and sit down Mr White. You must be tired after your day’s work. Isn’t this an astonishing country?’

Hiding a smile, Elizabeth poured a cup of tea for Father.

‘Why is it astonishing?’

Aisling burbled happily on, telling of all the marvels she had seen from the train. Huge cities and big factory chimneys and miles and miles of fields. Nobody in Ireland
knew
that there was any countryside in England, they thought it was all cities.

Then she leapt up and unwrapped some of the foods. She brushed aside Father’s worries about how she got them through customs.

‘Don’t you see this tin has “dinner service” written on it?’ The butter had kept, the chicken was perfect, the side of bacon was put in the larder.

‘But my dear, we must recompense you for all this. …’ Father began.

Elizabeth ground her teeth in rage. Trust him, trust him not to understand friendship and generosity and presents. Trust him to think that this was something you paid for. But Aisling didn’t seem a bit put out.

‘Not at all. These are presents from Mam and Dad. Now of course there is a chance that I might go into the black market seriously now that I’ve discovered how easy it is to get things in. Then it would be a matter of payment.’

She threw her head back and laughed. Elizabeth thought she looked so lively and bright, she was like a coloured picture when everyone else was in black and white.

‘Now, Mr White, what are we going to do for this birthday of yours? That’s why I’m here.’

Father looked up in alarm. ‘No, not seriously. …’

Aisling was quick to see the alarm reflected on Elizabeth’s face. ‘Heavens no, I’m only pulling your leg, but it is a coincidence that when I wanted to come and see
Elizabeth
. …’ She looked over his shoulder for confirmation. Elizabeth nodded enthusiastically. ‘When I asked if I could come for a visit … that I also heard it was your birthday.’

His face cleared. ‘Oh, it’s silly for a man of my age. …’

‘Not at all, when Dad was fifty we had a great party, and Mam will be fifty next year and so we’ll have a massive celebration altogether.’

‘What did you do when your father was fifty?’ asked poor Father. Elizabeth felt a wave of pity for him, he was like a lonely child.

But Aisling seemed to see none of this. She leaned across the table, chatting as if she’d known him all her life.

‘Well, it was a Thursday so we went to Maher’s. We still do that you know, Elizabeth, and they often ask for you there. It’s a pub. …’