Settling the Account (75 page)

Out of the corner of his eye he saw his
mother looking from his face to his father’s and back again, her
eyes shining. It seemed a fair enough return for the labour of
trying to have a civil conversation with his father.

She stood up and took a step back from the
bed. ‘Shall I leave you two to talk about the farm?’ she asked.
David knew the plea in her voice was directed at him. ‘I’ve got
things to do in the kitchen.’

It was his last chance to escape, and he let
it pass. ‘Yes, you go and get your other stuff done, Ma. I want to
ask Pa about the cows.’

Once he had started, it was not as difficult
as David had expected. He soon realised that his father’s attention
frequently drifted, so it did not matter if he repeated himself or
even whether or not he made a great deal of sense. It was the
company Charlie wanted; and the attention, and the sound of an
amiable voice.

His father dozed off briefly from time to
time, only to wake with a start. David was beginning to wonder how
long he was going to have to sit there, when he saw that Charlie
had at last fallen into a slumber that looked as though it would go
on longer than a few moments. David stood up, careful not to make
the bed move, and crept out of the room with elaborate caution.

He glanced at the clock as he went through
the parlour, and was astonished to see that he had only spent half
an hour with his father; he had thought the evening must be almost
over.

His mother looked up from kneading the bread
dough as David came into the kitchen. ‘I think he’s asleep,’ he
said, sinking heavily into a chair. ‘Boy, that was hard work.’

‘Thank you, Davie, that was lovely of you.’
She leaned across the table to kiss him, then returned to pounding
her dough. ‘I’ve wished and wished you’d start getting on with your
father.’

‘Well, you needn’t go thinking I like him. I
don’t know, I suppose the old so-and-so doesn’t do much harm these
days.’

He watched her working away at the dough,
and he thought about the hours and hours she spent looking after
the old man. ‘How about you go and see Aunt Lizzie tomorrow,
Ma?’

‘Don’t start that again, please don’t. I
can’t leave your father.’

‘But I’ll look after him for you. I was all
right with him tonight, wasn’t I?’

‘Well, yes, you were,’ she admitted. ‘You
were very good with him.’

‘So you could go out, couldn’t you?’

She slapped her dough down on the table with
a thump. ‘Davie,’ she said gently, ‘I appreciate you spending that
time with your father tonight, I really do. But it was only half an
hour, you know. I don’t think I could leave him with you much
longer than that. And anyway, he knew I was here in the house, so
he wouldn’t have got frightened.’

‘But I only did it so’s you’d be able to go
out. Heck, you don’t think I wanted to sit and talk to him, do
you?’

‘Don’t be annoyed with me, darling. I’ve got
to try and do the right thing, that’s all.’

David clenched his fists in frustration.
‘Ma, I wish you’d go out. I hate the way you’re stuck here with him
all the time. I hate it.’

‘Well… maybe I will go and see her
sometime,’ Amy said, but David caught the evasiveness in her
voice.

‘Tomorrow,’ he pounced. ‘Go down there
tomorrow.’

‘Oh, I don’t think I could go that soon.
I’ll go another day.’

‘When?’ David pressed. ‘The next day?’

‘No, I…’ She hesitated, caught his eyes on
her, then the dough abruptly seemed to claim her full attention.
‘I’ll go another day. Some day when your father’s feeling
better.’

‘You might be waiting a long time for that,
Ma.’

‘Then I’ll just have to wait.’

July – September 1905

‘Here you are, Pa, you can hold Lucy,’
Maudie announced, clearly quite certain that she was bestowing the
highest possible honour. She put the warm little bundle on Frank’s
lap and curved his arm around the baby. ‘She’ll go to sleep in a
minute, she always does after she’s had a feed, but I’ll let you
hold her first. Mind you keep your hand behind her head like that.
That’s right, you’re getting the hang of it.’

‘You know, I’ve held a fair few babies over
the years, love,’ Frank told her, smiling.

‘Not
my
baby you haven’t,’ Maudie
countered smartly.

It was the first time she had entrusted Lucy
to him, and Frank tried to appear suitably grateful for the
distinction. Lucy was, in fact, his main excuse for calling as
often as he did these days; though there was no need for him to
feign an interest in his grandchild.

At six weeks old, Lucy was becoming more
responsive, and therefore more captivating, by the day, and Frank
fondly imagined that she already recognised him. Her hair was
showing promise of inheriting the curls that Maudie coveted for
her, but her smile was her mother’s, and as capable of winning over
Frank as Maudie’s had always been.

Maudie sat and beamed at the two of them.
‘Lucy looks a bit like you, you know, Pa. Don’t you think Lucy’s
got Pa’s nose, Richard?’

‘Oh, I think you’re a much better judge of
such things than I am, darling,’ Richard said. ‘Women always seem
far more able to see likenesses than men.’

Much as he enjoyed Maudie’s company, Frank
was relieved when she gathered up the now drooping-eyed Lucy and
took her off to the bedroom. Lucy was a delight, and he was already
in love with her, but she was not his real reason for the
visit.

‘How’s Lizzie?’ Richard asked as soon as
Maudie was safely out of earshot.

Frank sighed. ‘Much the same. I think she’s
a bit worse, but it’s hard to tell. She’s that swollen up, you’d
swear she’s ready to drop that baby any day. I don’t know how she’s
going to put up with two more months of it.’

‘I’ve my doubts about your putting up with
it, come to that,’ Richard remarked. ‘You’re looking rather weary
yourself.’

‘She doesn’t sleep properly, that’s half the
trouble. And I just can’t get her to rest in the daytime—she says
she’s got to keep the girls in order. She’s not doing the really
heavy work any more, Lizzie’s not stupid, but she wears herself out
just organising everyone. And half the time she’s clutching at her
head because it’s aching—not that she’ll ever admit it is, mind
you.’

‘I could give her something for that. I know
you’re quite sure she wouldn’t let me near her to check her over,
but do you think she’d take medicine if I mixed something up?’

Frank shook his head. ‘There’s no way in the
world she’d take it. I can just hear her saying it now—“I never had
medicines or doctors or any of that nonsense with the other babies,
and I’m not going to start it now.”
 
’

Richard smiled at Frank’s attempt to imitate
Lizzie’s affronted tone. ‘She certainly hasn’t lost her spirit, has
she? You should take comfort from that. And the further through her
pregnancy she gets, the more reason to believe you’ll have another
healthy child come September.’

Frank made a noncommittal sound. The trouble
with that line of reasoning was that the further through her
pregnancy Lizzie got, the larger, more uncomfortable and more tired
she got, too. But he knew that Richard was doing the best he could,
given that he was unable to see Lizzie or even prescribe anything
for her.

‘If you could get her to rest more, that
would be the best possible treatment,’ Richard said. ‘Far better
than any medicine. Even half an hour’s doze of an afternoon would
be better than nothing.’

‘I’ll have a go,’ Frank said, certain that
it would be as futile as all his other attempts.

‘I like to see that Maudie has an afternoon
nap even now,’ Richard said. ‘She may be having a lie-down at the
moment, while Lucy’s sleeping. Lucy’s a good baby—or so I’m told by
her mother, who knows far more about such things than I do—but she
does have the unfortunate habit of waking up in the middle of the
night demanding food. And of course she draws all her nourishment
from Maudie, so Maudie needs to conserve her strength.’

‘She looks well, anyway, and the baby’s
growing.’

‘Oh, yes, Maudie’s taken to motherhood as
enthusiastically as she does all sorts of things. Though I’m not a
great deal of help to her now that Lucy’s arrived, and I’m afraid
I’ve rather disappointed Maudie with my ignorance from time to
time.’

‘How do you mean?’ Frank asked.

‘Well, I was quite the expert when she was
expecting, and of course bringing Lucy into the world was very much
a joint effort. But my knowledge of child rearing runs out at the
moment of birth—leaving aside illness, of course, and there’s no
question of that. Fortunately for us all, Maudie is more than
competent at such mysteries as changing napkins and generally
keeping Lucy clean and contented, but I let her down badly when she
wants advice about… well, aspects of her body, shall we say? Things
that give her discomfort. And feeding the baby—I can see as well as
you can that Lucy’s thriving, but I really can’t be of any use when
Maudie asks me if she’s putting Lucy to the breast properly, or why
it sometimes hurts her when the baby suckles. I can give her a
salve when her nipples crack, but I’ve no idea why they got into
that state.’

‘She needs her ma,’ Frank said, calling up
vague memories of Lizzie complaining of such things after Maudie’s
birth.

‘Exactly,’ Richard said with a sigh. ‘Such a
waste that Maudie should be deprived of all Lizzie’s knowledge and
experience. I do wish those two weren’t so determined to be
estranged from each other, but it’s no use you and I trying to
force the issue.’

‘I’d have a go, but with Lizzie being poorly
I don’t like—’

Frank stopped abruptly at the warning glance
Richard sent him. He looked over his shoulder to see that Maudie
had appeared in the doorway.

‘Lucy’s sound asleep,’ she announced. ‘I’ll
leave having my rest till later, though. I didn’t want to miss
seeing you, Pa.’

She looked from Frank to Richard and back
again, amusement on her face. ‘Why are you two so quiet all of a
sudden? Were you talking about me or something?’

‘Well, you know you’re a subject of great
interest to us both, darling,’ Richard said, trying with only
limited success to make a joke of it. ‘We weren’t really—not
exclusively, anyway.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Maudie said,
still amused. ‘You look awfully guilty, Richard—and you’re even
worse, Pa. Whatever have you two been up to? You were talking
nineteen to the dozen when I was in the passage.’

‘I’m afraid I can’t really tell you,’
Richard said uncomfortably. ‘I can only…’ He trailed off, caught
Frank’s eye and gave a shrug expressive of helplessness.

Maudie’s expression changed from amusement
to puzzlement, and then to mild irritation, all in a moment. ‘What
on earth are you on about? Pa, why’s Richard looking at you like
that?’

‘Because I told him not to tell you, love,’
Frank said, tired of the deception. ‘It started back before Lucy
arrived, and Richard and me didn’t want to upset you. It’s your ma.
She’s not well.’

‘We’re not at all sure it’s serious, you
mustn’t get upset,’ Richard put in quickly, seeing the look of
shock creeping over Maudie’s face.

‘What’s wrong with her?’ Maudie asked, her
eyes fixed firmly on Frank. ‘What’s wrong with Ma?’

‘It’s all to do with the baby,’ Frank said,
struggling for the right words. Embarrassment made him drop his
gaze to the floor. ‘It’s a strain on her, carrying it and all that.
Richard says there’s something wrong with her blood.’

Maudie turned on her husband. ‘You’ve known
for ages and ages there was something wrong with Ma, and you never
even told me! Richard, how could you?’

‘Maudie, please don’t get in a state,’
Richard said. ‘You must understand—’

Maudie stamped her foot. ‘You’ve no right
not to tell me! You’ve no
right!
’

Her last word was nearly a scream, and
Richard flinched visibly; Maudie was capable of surprising volume
when the urge took her. ‘Maudie, dear, you mustn’t—’ he began, then
he took the wiser course of abandoning words for the moment. He
crossed the room to Maudie and took her in his arms, and when she
tried to twist out of his grip he held her all the more firmly.
‘Shh, shh, it’s all right,’ he soothed. ‘I don’t believe your
mother’s dangerously ill. I’m sorry, sweetheart, we should have
broken it to you more gently. Come on, sit down and we’ll tell you
properly.’

He drew Maudie over to the sofa and sat with
one arm tightly around her. ‘You know I can’t tell you things that
I’m told in confidence. I’ve explained that to you, haven’t I?’

‘Even when it’s my own mother?’ Maudie
asked, her voice unsteady.

‘Even then. I could say nothing until your
father chose to speak.’

‘It’s my fault, love, you shouldn’t go crook
at Richard,’ Frank said. ‘I told him not to let on to you.’

‘I’ll say it’s your fault,’ Maudie said, her
anger returning now that the shock had lessened. Frank realised
with a sinking feeling that it was all turned on him. ‘Honestly,
Pa, you should have known better. Fancy letting Ma have a baby at
her age! No wonder she’s not well. I don’t know what you were
thinking of.’

‘Well, it was sort of… I couldn’t really…’
Frank flailed around for words, feeling more awkward by the moment.
It was not a subject he was comfortable discussing with his
daughter.

‘Babies do have a way of coming to a married
couple whether they’re intended or not, my dear,’ Richard put in,
but Maudie was having none of it.

‘Humph! Ma never does
anything
she
doesn’t want to. She always gets her own way. Fancy her even
wanting another baby at her age! Seven would be plenty for most
people. It’s stupid of her, wanting another one. Just because she
wants to be better than other people. Just because she…’