The Chainmakers (42 page)

After a week Anna felt sufficiently at home to take Will and Mary fully into her confidence. The gangland killings had not made the British papers, and as yet Anna had not even mentioned the problems which Prohibition had brought. One evening when Andrew had gone out to a local meeting of the Wireless Society, Anna told them the whole sorry tale. She took her time, and began with Jennie, explaining how she had joined the business from the orphanage, and how fond she and Clancy had become of her. She told them of Paolo's arrival, and of the wedding, and of Vittorio Vetti. As her story unfolded she spared them nothing, recounting the events as they had occurred, and including her own mistakes. When she had finished Will and Mary sat for a few moments in horrified silence.

'That's a terrible tale our Anna.' Will said at length. 'Yo' must 'ave bin out o' your mind when James was took... an' that poor young couple, an' a babby on the way... my, what wickedness!'

'Arr,' Mary agreed. 'We 'eard about Prohibition o' course, but I never thought it would affect yo'.'

'It wouldn't have done if I had listened to Clancy,' Anna said bitterly.

'Well now, it's easy to be wise after the event, as they say,' Will said. 'Yo' couldn't 'ave known what was to 'appen. Mary an' me, we thought summat was worryin' yer, we said as much.'

'Arr we did,' Mary agreed, 'But I never thought o' anythin' like this. No wonder yo' wanted ter get away fer a break.'

'It wasn't only that,' Anna said. 'For years I have been wanting to come home for a visit, but I kept putting it off. When all this happened it seemed the one sensible thing I could do.'

'Well I'm glad yo' told us, our Anna,' Will said. 'A bad thing like that needs airin', not bottlin' up.'

'Yes, that's true,' Anna responded. 'I feel better already for having talked about it. It has made me face it.'

Will smiled. 'There's one more thing yo' 'ave to face our Anna, while yo' are 'ere. Every time I mention our Dad yo' change the subject. Yo' never 'ave forgiven 'im 'ave yer?'

Anna's face was closed. 'It isn't a problem, he's dead now.'

'Yes, an' it's time yo' visited 'is grave.' Will said gently. 'It's a nice walk to the church, so if it's fine termorrer I'll tek yer there. We'll 'ave a picnic, our Mary will put one up, won't yer love?'

'Arr, that'll be grand,' Mary said, realising that Will wanted to have some time to talk to Anna alone.

'I don't mind,' Anna said, 'I shall enjoy the walk.'

~

The weather proved fine and sunny the following day, and Anna and Will set out to walk to the village around noon, after Will had finished lifting vegetables. Will explained they would go across the fields, a private route which had been devised by the family as a short cut, before they had the luxury of the car. Anna was slightly amused by the family attitude to the car, which was only used for special occasions, and trips into Dudley for shopping. It seemed to Anna that the family gained as much joy from washing and polishing the already gleaming motor, as from riding in it.

Will took the picnic basket and Anna carried a rug, and they made their way along the edge of Will’s vegetable field, as he talked about his crops and explained his plans for the future. He seemed very happy with his new life, Anna thought, surprised at the knowledge her brother seemed to have acquired.

They left Will and Mary’s property and walked through a small wood, climbing quite steeply as they went. As they left the trees and came out into a field of pasture, Will pointed out the church spire in the distance. ‘That’s where we’re goin’,’ he said. ‘It’s a nice little church, it’ll tek us about an hour.’

They set off across the field, and Will said directly, ‘That tale yo’ told us last night, what’s the rest of it?’

‘What do you mean?’ Anna said.

‘Yo’ cor kid me our Anna, there’s summat else. Is it Clancy?’

Anna felt a slight panic. ‘Oh, Will, we had the most awful row, we said dreadful things to each other...’

‘And yo’ dae mek it up before yo’ left?’ Will asked.

‘No. We had already disagreed about the business, and when James was taken it was worse. When Paolo and Jennie were killed it all came to a head...’

‘Do yo’ love ‘im?’ Will asked.

Surprised at such a question from her brother, who rarely spoke of feelings, Anna said quickly, ‘Oh, yes Will. Yes, I do, Clancy has been very good to me.’

‘Oh. I only wondered... because of what ‘appened when yo’ went away, I wondered if it ‘ad worked out for yer...’

Anna felt a wave of relief flood over her. Will was the one person in the world who might understand. Before she knew it she was telling him of her years of obsession with the past, of the way she had kept memories of Robert Nicholson locked in her heart. She told him of her visit to High Cedars, and Will’s face darkened as she described Robert’s condition.

‘’E was a bastard then and ‘e’s one now,’ Will said, ‘Beggin’ yer pardon fer the language Anna.’

‘I know that now Will, but I... how can I explain? He made such a difference to my life at that time. I truly loved him.’

Will smiled. ‘Did yo’ think I dae realise that?’ he said gently. ‘Anyone as knows yo’, knows it ‘ad ter be summat special fer yo’ ter go off the rails, as it were. Clancy knew it too.’

‘Yes, and that’s what I regret so much. Clancy is worth a hundred of Robert Nicholson, and now it’s too late.’

They came to a stile, and Will swung his long legs over it in one movement. ‘Come on our kid,’ he said, ‘I’ll give yer a leg up.’

Anna negotiated the stile, and Will pointed ahead. ‘There’s a stream there,’ he said, ‘We’ll ‘ave our picnic.’

Anna spread the rug, and they sat down. Will opened the picnic basket and they helped themselves to Mary’s pasties, with a dollop of home made chutney.

‘So that’s it?’ Will asked. ‘That’s what yo’ are worried about?’

‘Yes. When I left New York, Clancy and I were barely civil to each other. Things have gone so far I don’t think they will ever be right again.’ Anna poured some lemonade. ‘It’s only since I came home I realise how much Clancy means to me,’ she admitted. ‘Will, what do you think?’

Will considered, munching a pasty appreciatively. Eventually he said, ‘Well if yer want the truth I think yo’m doolallytap. Clancy was always potty about yo’ an’ I reckon e’ ‘asn’t changed. Yo’ ‘ave ter go ‘ome an’ tell ‘im what yer just told me, that’s all.’

‘But it’s too late...’

‘No, not fer Clancy it ain’t. ‘E’s a good bloke, always was. It’ll be alright, our Anna. In any case that’s all yo’ can do. Go an’ work in the garden.’

‘Work in the garden?’

‘Yes, at least that’s what Voltaire says.’

‘Voltaire? What’s he got to do with it?’

‘Well ‘e reckons that at the end o’ the day, that’s all any of us can do, go an’ work in the garden, whatever our particular garden ‘appens to be. Your garden is Clancy, an’ James, an’ your business in New York, an’ yo’ just ‘ave ter gerron wi’ it.’ Will bit into a second pasty, pleased at the effect his philosophy was having.

Anna began to laugh. ‘So that’s all there is to it?’

‘When yo’ come down to it, arr,’ Will said.

‘And since when have you been reading Voltaire?’

‘Since I joined the W.E.A.’ Will said, and seeing the query on Anna’s face he expanded, ‘The Worker’s Educational Society. We ‘ave some really good lectures, an’ it meks yo’ think. When I started to read Candide I thought it was daft at first. This bloke Candide gets killed so many times, but no matter what ‘appens to ‘im, there ‘e is again, on the next page.’ He laughed. ‘The tutor explained it. It’s just like life. No matter what ‘appens to us, we ‘ave ter go on. At the end Candide decides the only thing to do is go an’ work in the garden.’

‘I see,’ said Anna, ‘At least, I think I do.’

Will began to pack up the picnic basket and Anna was left reflecting on his words. Could it really be so simple? Could she go home and start again, would Clancy allow her to pick up the pieces? She looked at her brother with affection. Trust Will to take any new piece of information, even philosophy, and turn it to some practical use. She began to laugh. Will quoting Voltaire... times were changing indeed.

It took them only another fifteen minutes to reach the tiny village and make their way to the church. George Gibson’s grave was towards the back of the churchyard, where a crumbling wall looked over to a row of straggling labourer’s cottages. Anna bent down and cleared a few dead flowers and tired twigs from the flower vase, evidence of Mary’s last visit.

‘Yo’ wouldn’t ‘ave known ‘im Anna, ‘e changed so much after we moved ‘ere,’ Will said. ‘We ‘ad a job to convince ‘im to come, but once ‘e was ‘ere ‘e loved it, ‘ardly ever went to the pub...’

‘Really?’ Anna said. She could not think of her father without thinking of him drunk.

‘I never realised ‘ow much ‘e knew about country life,’ Will said, ‘But o’ course that is ‘ow ‘e was brought up. ‘E taught me a lot, especially about the vegetables...’ He laughed, remembering. ‘I couldn’t beat ‘im, ‘e would be up before dawn an’ ‘ad two rows lifted before I was even stirrin’, that was until ‘e got too frail o’ course.’

Anna was intrigued in spite of herself. ‘And what did he do in the evenings?’ she asked, ‘If he wasn’t in the pub?’

Will looked at her narrowly. ‘Do yo’ want the truth?’

‘Of course.’

‘’E used to sit by the fire an’ read your letters, an’ Clancy’s, over an’ over again, I think ‘e knew ‘em by ‘eart. ‘E was that proud o’ yo ...’

Anna’s eyes opened wide. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Course I’m sure. Per’aps yo’ don’t realise it, but yo’ an’ Clancy ‘ad done everythin’ fer the family that ‘e wanted to do, an’ couldn’t. Providin’ for us while we was at Sandley ‘Eath, an’ then buyin’ us this place an’ the annuity, ‘e could ‘ardly believe it. I tell yer, ‘e was real proud o’ yo’ an’ Clancy.’

Anna stooped and pulled out a small weed which was pushing its way through the gravel on the grave’s surface. ‘I should have brought some flowers,’ she said.

‘Yes,’ Will said. ‘Yo’ should ‘ave.’

‘Tell me, Will... about when he died. Were you with him?’

‘Yes, me an’ Mary. ‘E ‘ad been sleepin’ all day, an’ we knew ‘e ‘adn’t long. When ‘e woke up I saw ‘e was lookin’ at the side o’ the bed... ‘E ‘ad your photograph there, on a little table. I knew what ‘e was lookin’ for, so I got it an’ give it to ‘im. ‘E kissed the photograph, an’ then ‘e breathed out, ‘eavy like, an’ ‘e was gone. It wasn’t too bad, a death like that, in ‘is bed at ‘ome with ‘is family round ‘im.’

Anna turned away, feeling hot tears sting her eyes. She stared over the churchyard wall to the cottages beyond. After a moment she called to Will.

‘Look Will, that cottage down there, the one with the good show of dahlias in the back garden... do you think they would sell some to us?’

~

After her walk with Will to the village, Anna knew it was time to make plans for her return to New York, and booked a stateroom on the 'Ocean Star', for a crossing two weeks later. She decided that for her last evening with the family she would cook a celebration dinner for them all, giving Mary a well deserved day off, and the luxury of a meal she had not helped to prepare. Anna chose the menu with care, to provide some surprises, but nothing too demanding on palates which were unused to the food she usually cooked for guests in New York. Dottie and her husband were sent invitations, and a few days before she was due to leave, Anna travelled to Dudley to buy ingredients not available locally. When she returned Mary and Will came out to help unload the car.