The Made Marriage (6 page)

She discovered, to her dismay, that Mrs. Murphy, although keeping the kitchen scrupulously clean, had the unfortunate habit of storing the necessities in the strangest and most inappropriate places; she found the tea in an enamelled container distinctly marked ‘Rice’, and the rice placed in a receptacle obviously intended for coffee. However, after a short time
she
began to anticipate the likely spots for the other ingredients of the meal and felt a glow of achievement when she climbed on a chair and retrieved a large bag of sugar from the top of the dresser.

While the tea brewed in the enormous teapot, she cut brown and white bread and placed golden butter and various jams in the pretty cut-glass dishes she had come across in one of the rooms beside the pantry. Then as she awaited her fellow-workers, on impulse, she changed the water in the vase of daffodils and, rearranging the flowers, placed it in the centre of the red and white checked tablecloth.

She was standing by the range, wondering just when to pop the large brown eggs into the water, when the men trooped in. Solemnly they gathered around the table and after a swift glance in her direction, muttered an embarrassed greeting and, placing their caps beneath their chairs, sat down and studied the table in silence.

It was Obvious that her preparations had created a profound impression, although whether it was a flattering one or not it was difficult to judge. The two older men, one stout and solemn,
the
other thin and wiry, sedulously avoided her gaze. However, the young boy with the tow-coloured hair whom she had seen herding the cattle seemed to have difficulty in restraining his mirth and after a series of suppressed explosions of hilarity came from his direction the stout man said sharply, ‘That’s enough, Joe, no doubt the young lady will get into our ways all in good time.’

In spite of the magnanimity of this speech, Kate got the strong impression that her efforts were not entirely to their satisfaction. She tackled it with her usual directness. ‘Have I done something wrong?’ she asked anxiously as she poured tea. ‘Do please tell me, as I’m new here.’

An embarrassed silence followed her request. The stout man slowly stirred his tea and with a self-conscious cough said, ‘Well, it’s this way, miss, Mrs. Murphy doesn’t go in for the small fancy glass dishes of jam. Why, Dan here,’ he pointed to his companion, ‘would knock back the whole shebang, fancy dishes and all, and not notice it.’

A guffaw of laughter from h
i
s companions greeted this sally. At the sound, Bedsocks woke up with a start and after one terrified glance at the unaccustomed gathering of males, gave a squeak of fright and disappeared beneath the dresser. Her antics were a further cause for mirth and soon the kitchen was resounding to their peals of laughter.

Happily Kate served the eggs and replenished the dishes as quickly as they were emptied. Now that the ice had been broken so satisfactorily they pointed out to her that the red and white tablecloth was usually reserved for Sunday’s use and that Mrs. Murphy had never been known to garnish the table with floral decorations, although they conceded both the contributions an improvement.

Owen entered the kitchen to the sound of chatter interspersed with the sound of laughter. For a moment he stood unnoticed in the doorway, watching Kate as she busily replenished cups, her face flushed and happy, eagerly listening to young Joe as he promised shyly that on the following day he would show her the first calf of the season.

'Take no heed of anything young Joe says, miss,’ the stout man bellowed jovially, ‘he’s taken a fancy to you and would think nothing of stealing a kiss in the cowshed if he got half a chance, the young rascal.’

Kate blushed hotly and turning away pretended to busy herself at the range.

‘That’s enough, Mike,’ Owen said sharply. ‘The young lady isn’t used to your form of humour.’

Immediately Mike sobered and applied himself to removing the top of another egg. But although the men soon broke into desultory conversation Kate noticed that their employer’s presence had an inhibiting affect and that they finished their meal quickly and, solemnly retrieving their caps from under their chairs, disappeared one by one.

Hands in pockets, Owen watched Kate as she cleared up, washed and dried the dishes and replaced them on their ends on the open dresser. This was evidently Mrs. Murphy’s method and she didn’t wish to appear to be usurping her predecessor’s position.

Thoughtfully Owen filled and lit his pipe. ‘Well, you seem to have gone down pretty well with the men; frankly I was a little worried as to how they’d take you. It would have made things extremely unpleasant if you had proved unpopular with them.’

Grudging as his words were, Kate felt a little glow of satisfaction and achievement. ‘Oh, but they were so nice and good-humoured,’ she said disclaimingly, ‘especially the stout man.’

‘
You shouldn’t take people on their face value,’ he said dryly. ‘Actually Dan, who looks like a male Mrs. Gummidge, is much better humoured, although he has a bullying wife and is inclined to be reserved. Young Joe too is prone to fall in love with every girl he meets. That’s why I found Mrs. Murphy so comforting. In her case problems like that didn’t arise.’

‘Oh, I expect it’s because he’s young and just beginning to grow up,’ Kate said with an air of wisdom.

‘Not like you, of course, who are very old and very wise.’ He sounded dry and mocking, but Kate didn’t mind. She felt happy and confident that she had surmounted the first hurdle in her new job.

Then a sudden thought struck her. ‘Good heavens, I’d forgotten all about your tea
!’

‘Don’t worry. I stopped off at Dan’s cottage on the way back from the fields and his wife entertained me to tea and a dissertation on her husband’s Shortcomings. So much for married bliss!’

‘So that’s why you’ve taken such a dislike to marriage,’ Kate said, before it occurred to her that perhaps it wasn’t the type of remark one makes to one’s employer. Immediately she realised her mistake as she saw his face stiffen.

‘My views on marriage are certainly no concern of yours. I suggest you turn your mind to getting ready a room for my aunt, Mrs. Lawlor. I’m going to write to her now and invite her to Laragh. The sooner she arrives the better, considering the present domestic set-up. By the way,’ he added, as he left the room, ‘you can use the sitting-room if you like. I do my paperwork there, so if you’d like to read or write letters in the evenings, you can feel yourself perfectly free to do so, provided, of course, that you don’t chatter.’

‘Thank you, Mr. Lawlor,’ Kate replied demurely, making up her mind to avoid the sitting-room and Owen Lawlor as much as possible.

As he turned to leave the room she longed to assert herself, to say something rude and crushing to her arrogant employer, but caution intervened. He was quite capable even at this stage of bundling Bedsocks and herself out of Laragh and his life and for once prudence prevailed. ‘I’ll see to Mrs. Lawlor’s room right away, sir,’ she replied, and just prevented herself from bobbing a curtsey.

CHAPTER THREE

SUDDENLY Kate was reminded by a gust of smoke from the direction of the kitchen that she had forgotten the soda-bread. Flinging down her duster, she dashed towards the kitchen to be met by even denser clouds of choking smoke. She reached for an oven cloth and flinging open the oven door, pulled out the tin of charred bread.

She had been a week now at Laragh and
she
had made several disastrous attempts at baking soda-bread in the old-fashioned range oven. But on each occasion failure had stalked her, although she had faithfully followed the recipe culled from a local newspaper. Time and again the men had made valiant efforts to consume the results of her labours, but she had only to take note of Dan’s lugubrious features as he stolidly chewed through the soggy undercooked slices of her earlier attempts to know that once again she had failed.

On this occasion she had conscientiously followed out the instructions in a cooking article, having pinned it against the dresser so as to refresh her memory. She had even persuaded Mick to give her a jug of the buttermilk he brought back from the creamery and which he usually kept for feeding the young calves. However, whether or not her latest effort would have proved a success would never be known.

Having slid the tin on to the table she pulled open a window to clear the kitchen of all evidence of the latest catastrophe. She could well imagine Mick humorously sniffing the air and the teasing remarks that would be bandied should they suspect that once again she had failed.

But where should she hide the evidence? she wondered, glancing around
:
to burn it would only add to the penetrating smell that seemed to fill every nook and cranny of the room. Then she remembered how soft the earth was in the kitchen garden that was situated in the orchard.

There was a selection of pitchforks and spades leaning against the stable door, and except for the poultry picking amongst the cobbles, the yard was completely deserted. The men were all busily engaged in the fields sowing and planting. Bedsocks, being an inquisitive cat, followed, delicately picking her way over the cobbles and carefully sidestepping a bad-tempered turkeycock.

Feeling like a conspirator, Kate glanced about as she helped herself to a spade and, pushing open the orchard gate, walked towards the plot which was planted with spring vegetables. She would bury it between the rows of peas, she decided, as
the
supporting staves would give her at least an illusion of being unseen.

She dug into the soft loamy earth and when she had excavated quite a deep hole, placed the shrivelled and blackened object in it and swiftly covered it, feeling with each shovelful more and more like a criminal. When she had finished and had neatly patted the earth down into place to cover all trace of her handiwork, she straightened with a sigh of relief, and was about to turn and retrace her steps when she felt a vice-like grip on her arm.

With a swallowed scream of fright, she dropped the spade and twisting round, she found Owen gazing at her grimly. ‘Oh, what a fright you gave me
!’
she quavered.

He appeared unsympathetic, however. ‘And just what are you doing?’

‘Digging,’ Kate said weakly.

‘So I gather. I assume you weren’t just digging for gold, like the man in the song.’

‘Oh no,’ Kate assured him, trying to sound bright and guiltless.

‘Then just
what
were you digging for? Do you realise you’re not doing those peas any good?’

‘Well, nothing in particular, really,’ Kate said slowly. However, as Owen showed no sign of relinquishing her arm and in fact gave it a hasty shake, she added hurriedly, ‘I haven’t really done the peas any harm. I was only digging between the rows. And now,’ she added hurriedly, ‘I think I’ll go back to the house. I haven’t finished dusting the sitting-room.’

‘And why not?’

‘Eh?’ Kate said in surprise. It was not at all like Owen to take any interest in the domestic arrangements. In fact, at times he showed a depressing indifference to her activities.

‘I said,
why have you not finished the dusting you spoke of? Shall I tell you? Because you were too busy going about your nefarious concerns out here in the kitchen garden.’

‘
Not nefarious,’ Kate protested in shocked tones.

‘Stop beating about the bush.’ He spoke loudly, losing patience. ‘You shan’t go back to the house until you tell me what you’re doing here.’

With a sigh of resignation Kate was about to give the history of the burnt soda-cake when he said slowly, ‘Don’t bother. I think I know what you were up to.’

She followed his gaze and saw, to her embarrassment, that Bedsocks had not been idle during her encounter with Owen, and now sat complacently beside the hole she had busily scraped open revealing the withered fossil which only bore the smallest resemblance to having once possessed the contours of a soda-cake.

‘But what is it?’ He released her and gazed at the object with interest.

‘It
was
a soda-cake,’ she replied in a small voice, ‘but it got burnt while I was dusting the sitting-room.’

‘So it appears
!
But why go to all that trouble?’ he asked. He seemed puzzled and faintly amused. ‘Why not simply dump it, or if you didn’t want any identifiable remains to exist, simply give it to the poultry?’

‘The idea did cross my mind,’ she admitted, ‘but I thought perhaps it might give them indigestion.’

For the first time she saw a glimmer of amusement pass over his bony and impassive features. ‘Don’t you know it’s almost impossible to give farmyard poultry indigestion? You’d be amazed at the things they pick up on their travels.’

‘Well, no, I didn’t,’ Kate said in an interested voice, hoping the discussion would now centre on the peculiarities of poultry rather than revert to the wret
c
hed soda-cake.

But to her dismay Owen bent down and picking up the remains of the soda-cake placed it in his pocket. ‘I shall keep this as a memento of you, so that some day when you’re back in England and I’m regretting that Mrs. Murphy isn’t a pretty young girl in a frilly apron, I’ll take it out and have a look at it and console myself for your loss by remembering what a rotten hand you were at baking.
’

‘Thanks
!’
Kate snapped, all embarrassment disappearing at the ungallantry of the remark. But then it was typical of him, she told herself hotly as, in silence, she accompanied him back to the house, preceded by the treacherous Bedsocks. No man could be more unlike the Owen Lawlor who had written so tenderly on those green sheets of paper!

As they went through the orchard gates a car drew up and a hard-featured and elegantly dressed middle-aged woman got out and moved towards them.

‘Aunt Alice
!’
Owen sounded surprised and a little sardonic. ‘It’s not like you to honour us with a visit.’

But his aunt ignored his words. Her eyes were firmly fixed on Kate with such a look of outrage that Kate felt herself wilt. ‘So this is the young woman! Do you realise, Owen, that’s it’s all over the countryside that you’re sharing house with a strange young woman? I realise, of course, that it was my irresponsible son who instigated the whole wretched affair, but at the same time I’m amazed that you hadn’t the decency to get rid of the girl before the story became a subject of sniggering gossip.’

Completely ignoring this speech, he said mildly, ‘This is my aunt, Mrs. Fitzpatrick, Kate.’ Then, turning to his aunt, he said easily, ‘As you appear to know all about Kate, I suppose there’s no point in introducing her.’

‘None whatsoever,’ Mrs. Fitzpatrick said furiously, as she pulled off her gloves. ‘And might I point out, Owen, that you should have a proper servant to answer the door. I was knocking for ages and then had to drive into the yard.’ She looked about with distaste at the untidy jumble of half sawn logs, the old disused trap and milk chums under the open shed, the straw that straggled from the open stable door.

There was a short pause and Owen said, ‘Won’t you come in and have a glass of sherry? I’m sure,’ he added, ‘you’d rather discuss your problems in the more civilised atmosphere of the sitting-room.’

‘
Yes, perhaps it would be better.’ She sounded completely unaware of any sardonic overtones in his remarks. ‘Although there’s really no problem. I’ve heard all about
Mrs. Murphy’s accident, but it’s useless to pretend that this girl could possibly be a substitute for her. Your duty is quite clear. She must go immediately. However, it is essential I have a few words with you in private, Owen,’ she announced pointedly when they had reached the sitting-room and Kate began to fill the glasses.

‘No, not in private, Aunt,’ Owen said quietly. ‘Anything you have to say can be said in front of Kate.’

His aunt shrugged. ‘Very well, but I assure you they won’t be complimentary, for I’m not going to beat about the bush, Owen. You’ve disgraced the family and dragged your name in the mud. It may be all very well and good for you to live as you please, but the Fitzpatricks have always been looked up to. Why, the whole village of Ballyfeeny lived on what they earned in the Fitzpatrick mills.’

‘Yes, at one time,’ Owen agreed, and Kate realised that he was about to enlarge on this, but had changed his mind.

‘Anyway, it’s an undoubted fact that the villagers look up to us and expect us to give an example.’

‘Nicky’s example—or the twins’, for that matter?’ her nephew inquired dryly.

Mrs. Fitzpatrick compressed her lips. ‘They have, unfortunately, inherited a certain amount of wildness from their father’s side, but, as far as Nicky’s escapade was concerned, it was merely high spirits, though of course I don’t condone his conduct for a moment,’ she added piously. ‘However, there’s no reason why you shouldn’t settle this situation once and for all by getting rid of the girl and putting an end to gossip.’

As she was studiously ignoring Kate and speaking of her as if she had suddenly become invisible, Kate wondered indignantly whether she should stalk from the room or offer more sherry. Deciding on the latter course as perhaps more dignified, she found that her polite inquiry was met by dead silence and an averted profile.

Mrs. Fitzpatrick got to her feet and prepared to depart. ‘I can see that I’m wasting my time,’ she said tightly, ‘although I can assure you that, as your aunt, and having your best interests at heart, my visit was well intended.’

‘I’m sure it was,’ Owen replied a little wearily, ‘and if it gives you any comfort I’ve sent for Aunt Florrie. She’ll act as a sort of chaperon, I hope.’

Mrs. Fitzpatrick laughed shortly. ‘Florrie act as a chaperon? Why, a woman like Florrie Lawlor is much too self-willed and unconventional to be of the slightest use in hushing up gossip. The woman is an utter freak and a laughing-stock, and if your uncle had had a scrap of sense he would never have married her.’

‘All the same, I think
she
made him happy in spite of her eccentricities,’ Owen said thoughtfully.

Kate glanced at him in surprise. It was the first time she had heard him speak of marriage in terms at all complimentary.

Even Mrs. Fitzpatrick, taken up as she was with her grievances, appeared to be faintly astonished. ‘Well, I must say I’d never have given Florrie credit for bringing any man happiness. However, she’s right about one thing: it’s time you were married and settled down—with a girl from a suitable family, of course,’
she
added hastily, and seemed gratified that Owen made no protest. Although Kate, who had learned to sense his moods, guessed that he was no longer listening.

When his aunt had gone Owen wandered back into the sitting-room where Kate was clearing away the glasses. ‘Poor Aunt Alice! I was just able to prevent myself telling her a few home truths. She lives in the old days when
h
er husband’s family owned the Ballyfeeny Mills and tries to impress people with her past glories—although, as far as she’s concerned, they’re very much present.’

He watched abstractedly as Kate collected the glasses and placed them on a tray and plumped cushions. She kept her face averted, but when at last he caught a glimpse of her profile, her snub good-humoured features looked clouded and unhappy, and to his annoyance he discovered that the spectacle for some strange reason, disturbed him. ‘And now what’s wrong? Don’t you think that a visit from Aunt Alice is enough for a man to endure without you flinging the vapours as well?’

‘I’m not flinging the vapours,’ Kate sniffed dismally, and ran her finger around the rim of a glass, ‘but how would you like it if someone talked about you as if you weren’t present?’

‘If you mean my Aunt Alice—as I think you do—I’d be extremely grateful. I get too much of her attention as it is. Anyway, you must have realised that if you stayed on here my relations would betray a certain amount of interest, if not opposition.’

‘If they’re all going to betray that type of interest I think perhaps it would be better if I left,’ Kate said, with a show of spirit that she was far from feeling.

‘Oh no, you don’t,’ he retorted, to her relief. ‘I need you now. You simply can’t decide to clear off, just because you’ve taken a dislike to my foolish aunt.’

Kate’s eyes brightened. ‘Then you really want me to stay?’ She glanced up at him eagerly. She was close to him and he was aware that only the tray of glasses separated them. She looked very young and her round cheeks had turned pink with pleasure.

‘Yes, of course,’ he said shortly. ‘In spite of the soda-bread calamity, your cooking is improving. Besides, you get on with the men.’ He was deliberately cool and detached in his manner and instantly he saw the light fade from her face as though a candle had been extinguished.

She turned and was on the point of slipping past him on her way to the kitchen when he said brusquely,
‘
Never mind the glasses! Why don’t you run upstairs and fetch your coat and come with me to Limerick? I’m taking the trailer to fetch some seed oats.’

‘But what about the men
?
’ she asked doubtfully.

‘For once they can manage by themselves. Dan’s wife has him well trained and he’ll forage about the pantry and fix a meal up for the others. It won’t be the first time they had to make do.’

Her eyes sparkling delightedly at the prospect of a
n
outing
. S
he turned and sped lightly upstairs.

He stood in the doorway watching her, frowning a little as he remembered his aunt’s savage treatment of the girl, yet her words had been uncomfortably near the truth. With or without Aunt Florrie’s presence at Laragh, the girl was in an invidious position. He knew only too well from experience how gossip could snowball and assume immense dimensions in a small closely-knit community. Sooner or later Kate would be subjected to the sly innuendoes, the crude jokes that were bandied about when the conventions were contravened. It was obvious, however, that this aspect of her situation had not occurred to her and he scowled as he turned and went to fetch the car.

During the drive to Limerick she was surprisingly silent, but not, he realised, because of anything his aunt might have said. In fact he got the impression that far from recalling the wounding words, she had already wiped from her memory the episode. It was rather that each new scene filled her with wonder and delight too deep for words, and as they drove into the outskirts of Limerick she sat forward, eagerly anticipating the pleasures ahead.

‘Have a look around the shops,’ he said, ‘while I go about my business. And in about half an hour we can meet at that restaurant across
the
road.’

She nodded. The shops appeared inviting and she was looking forward to beginning her tour when he added a little gruffly, ‘By the way, if you need some extra cash, just let me know. You may see something you’d like to buy.’

She turned around and gazed at him directly with eyes wide with surprise. ‘Oh, but I have some money. Of course Margot was able to give me only a small salary, but I always saved it up. There was nothing much to spend it on, for I’m not dreadfully keen on clothes, you see. But it was very nice of you to think of it,’
she
added, a note of wonder in her voice.

She had not expected this kindness from her rather gruff employer.