Authors: Sara Seale
“
And then?
”
she prompted, gripped by a story which, for the moment, had little personal significance for her.
“
And then, my surprisingly sensible child, I went back to the States and got me a divorce and some nice fat alimony, and was free again, which was another mistake—or perhaps it was just Lonnegan
’
s Luck pursuing me.
”
“
I can
’
t see—
”
“
No, neither could I at the time, but Duff, it appears, like many of his race, has a puritanical streak in him. He doesn
’
t accept divorce, so in his eyes, you see, I wasn
’
t free at all—ironical that I should find that out when I
’
d gone to all that trouble, and a little hard when you think of all those dollars which helped out at the time, wouldn
’
t you say?
”
“
You mean the gambling losses? But surely
—”
“
Oh, a loan, of course, which he repaid, but when he got home, he found things here in a pretty poor state, and was forced to borrow again. I
’
d never intended the money to be anything but a gift, of course, thinking I
’
d be here to profit by my investment, so to speak, and when poor old Silas K. popped off so conveniently, leaving me all his lolly in spite of the way I
’
d treated him, I thought it was in the bag, but that
’
s life for you. I could have bought up Clooney and put it all to rights, but—proud as the devil is your unpredictable husband, Harriet, and don
’
t ever think you can talk him into any sort of compromise with his rigid notions. He
’
ll stand by his marriage vows however badly things may turn out, and it will be you who must compromise.
”
“
What are you really trying to tell me?
”
Harriet asked, and Samantha gave one of her graceful little shrugs of evasion.
“
I should have thought it was plain. Everything boils down to compromise in the end, and there
’
s no need for you and me to tread on each other
’
s toes—I don
’
t believe you
’
ve understood a word I
’
ve been saying
!
Shall we have another drink?
”
Harriet shook her head, only anxious now to get out in the fresh air and readjust her ideas. She understood very well what Samantha had implied, just as she now understood Duff
’
s reasons for a hasty marriage.
Samantha watched her, wondering whether anything she had been saying had sunk in, for the girl was clearly as dumb as they come and not even emotionally disturbed, which seemed odd.
“
What made you ma
rr
y him?
”
she asked curiously, and Harriet was silent, tracing idle patterns with her
fingertip
in a small puddle of sherry which had been slopped over on to the table.
A man who had been leaning on the counter with his back to her turned suddenly, and she recognised Duff
’
s friend who had given her away and been kind to her at the luncheon which had followed. He came over to their table, carrying a mug of beer, and smiled down at her with pleasure.
“
How nice to see you again, Mrs. Lonnegan,
”
he said pleasantly.
“
I
’
m afraid we haven
’
t got arou
n
d to that promised dinner date, but my wife
’
s been very busy. I don
’
t suppose you
’
ve wanted to be bothered with invitations yet awhile, anyway.
”
His eyes twinkled with kindly teasing as he spoke, and she smiled back at him politely. She frequently found it difficult to remember on such occasions that strangers would naturally assume her marriage to be a normal one.
“
Duff never goes out very much in the evenings,
”
she said, trying to sound less ignorant of her husband
’
s tastes and habits than she felt, and saw Samantha
’
s mouth turn down at the
corner
s in a little droop of
commiseration.
“
Yes, Raff, do get him to come out of his shell,
”
she said, widening her eyes at them.
“
Eight years is too long for needless regrets, don
’
t you think? I
’
ve been trying to fill in the picture a little for Harriet, for things can be difficult for the second wife until she knows what she
’
s up against, don
’
t you agree?
”
Michael O
’
Rafferty observed her with a thoughtless deliberation which carried a certain coolness, but he answered courteously enough:
“
Mrs. Lonnegan is up against nothing more serious than the gradual adjustment of any young wife to the ways and habits of an older man. You
’
ll make Duff young again, my dear, as my wife did for me. Are you staying long, Samantha?
”
“
Long enough,
”
Samantha replied, and Harriet thought an odd little flicker of understanding passed between them, and when Raff next spoke the slight coolness of his regard was in his voice.
“
And Miss Docherty? Is she well? We don
’
t often see her these days unless at a race meeting.
”
“
My Aunt Alice is as tough as one of her own elderly pensioners put out to grass and a long old age of contemplation. How formal and polite you
’
ve become, dear Raff, since you married your Judy,
”
Samantha replied on a slightly waspish note.
“
Come on, Harriet, it
’
s time we got out of this mob and made tracks for home. Be seeing you, Raff.
”
They were free of the crowds and the market traffic now, and Samantha took the north road back to Clooney in deference, she said, to the long-suffering springs of her car. She did not comment for a time, then observed suddenly:
“
Don
’
t let Duff walk all over you, darling. He will, you know, if you give him half a chance.
”
“
Another warning?
”
asked Harriet, surprised that after such a disturbing morning she should feel no animosity for Samantha.
“
Never heed the gipsy
’
s warning unless you
’
ve crossed her palm with silver,
”
said Samantha frivolously.
“
Don
’
t, by the same token, take all my nonsense too seriously.
”
“
But what you told me was true, wasn
’
t it?
”
she asked, sounding like a grave child again, and Samantha replied with the impatience she could not quite control:
“
True on most counts, but I don
’
t advise you to try verifying the facts with Duff.
”
“
I wouldn
’
t dream of embarrassing him with knowledge of his private affairs. What
’
s happened in the past is no concern of mine, as he frequently tells me,
”
Harriet replied with dignity.
A
s November dipped into December with a change in the weather which proclaimed that winter had come to stay, Harriet
’
s thoughts turned again to Christmas.
Despite Duff
’
s warning that old customs had made little difference to Clooney in the years of his solitude, she was resolved that this year the festival should not pass unnoticed, for there would be a child in the house. The thought of Nonie, that unknown little girl who was now her stepdaughter, sometimes gave Harriet an uneasy moment, for the child was so seldom discussed that it was often difficult to remember that Duff had a daughter.
“
Hasn
’
t she got a schoolroom of her own?
”
she enquired of Jimsy, trying to discover how best to avoid an innocent appropriation of the child
’
s favourite haunts.
“
Oh, ay—the old nurseries in the servants
’
wing,
”
Jimsy had replied vaguely, and Harriet had gone to explore for herself.
The servants
’
wing, still so-called though a row of musty rooms testified to long years of disuse, seemed to her cold and depressing. It seemed an unnecessary banishment for a child when there were so many unoccupied rooms in the Castle which could have been adapted for her use, and Harriet said as much to Duff, who displayed a surprising lack of interest.
“
But don
’
t
you
care whether your daughter is happy and well looked after when she comes home?
”
she asked.
“
Nonie
’
s looked after well enough,
”
he replied quite mildly.
“
Whether she
’
s happy is another matter.
”
“
But surely that
’
s up to you—to see that she
is
happy, I mean. Children aren
’
t difficult to please.
”
“
You
’
d better wait till you know my daughter. Nonie, you will find, doesn
’
t react like a child to normal treats and pleasures, neither, I
’
m afraid, will she thank you for moving her to one of the other rooms, but by all means make changes in the nursery if you want, only don
’
t say I didn
’
t warn you if your efforts fall flat.
”
It was not an encouraging start, but Harriet, determined to prove his forebodings wrong, set about transforming the neglected nurseries with a will, plundering the many unused rooms for furniture and ordering
modern
books and games to replace the discarded toys. With Molly
’
s help she shifted the furniture around a dozen times before she was satisfied.
“
Wouldn
’
t that please you, Molly, if you were a little girl thinking yourself too old for a nursery?
”
“
Well, as to that, I wouldn
’
t be knowin
’
, for
‘
tis not what I
’
d be expectin
’
for meself,
”
she said.
“
An
’
Miss Nonie
’
s the quare one, always slippin
’
away by herself an
’
no company for her da at all. Rest aisy, ma
’
am, she
’
ll not trouble you if you let her be.
”
It was not a very reassuring hope for a future relationship.
“
Oh, well...
”
said Harriet inconclusively, then put the problem of Nonie out of her mind and went about her preparations for Christmas, but here again she seemed to meet with discouragement. Clooney was too big a house to decorate unless it was done on a grand scale, and with only herself and a possibly disapproving child to sit down at Duff
’
s table on Christmas Day the pattern of everyday life would scarcely change. She had become accustomed each evening to sitting opposite him in the chilly dining-room, eating her dinner with the mute politeness of a child taught not to chatter unless spoken to. She occupied her vagrant thoughts with the positioning of holly and paper streamers, and once he observed:
“
Planning where the mistletoe will go, Harriet? Your eyes keep darting round the room with rather a distracted look of uncertainty.
”
“
Well, it
’
s difficult to decide,
”
she said, grateful that he should take an interest, however casual.
“
Little bits of holly would look lost and not enough grows round here, Molly says, to make a really good show.
”
“
Go and buy it up by the truck-load in Knockferry if it will satisfy your love of make-believe,
”
he said carelessly, and she looked a little shocked.
“
Spend good money on stuff that grows in the hedges!
”
she exclaimed, too recently plucked from the rigid economies of institutional life to countenance such wanton waste, then added on an afterthought:
“
But Christmas isn
’
t make-believe. It
’
s real.
”
“
What a child you are,
”
he said, but he spoke with tenderness and not with his customary amused tolerance, and she gave him that sudden mischievous grin across the table.
“
How nice you can be, when you really see me,
”
she said, and he looked quite startled.
“
What on earth do you mean?
”
“
Well, you often don
’
t—see me, I mean. I
’
m a guest—a sort of unexpected depend
e
nt wished on you, rather like Uriah.
”
“
For the love of sanity, what next!
”
he exclaimed, jumping to his feet to move round the table.
”
“
I must have failed very badly if I
’
ve given you that impression,
”
he said a little roughly.
“
You should remind me more often that I make you feel like the subservient Uriah.
”
“
But he
’
s very happy. This place must be like heaven to him, surrounded by love and affection as well as good food and comfort, so why shouldn
’
t I feel the same?
”
“
There
’
s one small difference, I would imagine. Do you feel yourself surrounded by love and affection?
”