Authors: Lyn Andrews

Tags: #Sagas, #General, #Fiction

Across a Summer Sea (36 page)

She nodded slowly. That sounded like Davy.

‘I didn’t know where to look, Mary. I did put three notices in the
Liverpool Daily Post
, but there was no response. But it’s all over now, Mary. I’m taking you home.’

‘Oh, Richard, for me Ballycowan will always be home. I was so happy there.’

‘We will be again, Mary, I promise. And the children?’

‘They hated coming back too. Katie and Tommy have tried to settle and I think that recently they did but Lizzie . . .’

‘What about Lizzie?’

‘She never forgave me. She missed you so much. She still misses you. She’s so withdrawn and unhappy that it breaks my heart, it really does. She has temper tantrums and I can’t do a thing with her. No one can.’

‘I can. When can I see her? When can we tell them?’

Mary hesitated, still ashamed of their poverty-stricken home.

‘Mary, it doesn’t matter where you live. The house in Dublin wasn’t a palace and I wouldn’t have cared if only I’d found you there. I wouldn’t have cared if I’d found you barefoot and in rags.’

She managed a wry smile. ‘You very nearly did.’

‘Then let me take you back? Let me see the children?’

‘Tonight, when I’ve had chance to speak to them.’

He nodded slowly, a little disappointed, then he smiled. ‘Today, we’re going to enjoy ourselves. We’re going to spend the whole day together. You deserve a treat and we have so much to catch up on.’

‘Three years, Richard. It’s a long time.’

‘It’s been a lifetime, Mary,’ he answered with sadness.

They had spent the day wandering in the cool shade of the city parks and she’d told him of the terrible three years she’d endured. Her words tore at his heart and he’d been full of remorse that he’d not tried harder to find her, even just to have provided her with food and clothes and decent furniture and the means to ensure that she had not had to endure such backbreaking work. He’d told her of how miserable life had been at Ballycowan after she’d gone. Of his drinking and lunatic riding that had been the despair of Julia and Sonny. But all day the memory of his visit to Rodney Street plagued her until at last she took his hand and drew him to a seat in a small arbour.

‘Richard, are you ill?’

He looked puzzled. ‘No.’

‘Then why did you go to Rodney Street? You went to see a doctor.’

He remembered his own circumstances and looked away from her. There were so many things that stood between them still: her strong moral beliefs, her religion and, not least, his own position. ‘Mary, I’m not ill, I promise you.’

‘Then why did you go to Rodney Street?’

‘It . . . it’s personal but it makes no difference, Mary. I’m going to take you home, all of you. I love you, you know that.’

‘I know, but . . .’

‘Mary, do you love me?’

‘Oh, you know I do!’

‘Then let me take you home?’

‘And we’ll get married?’

He buried his face in her hair. Oh, God! What was he going to tell her?

She sensed his hesitation. ‘Richard?’

He drew away from her. ‘Mary, I have to be honest with you. I love you more than life itself but . . . but I can’t marry you.’

The light that had shone from her eyes began to fade. ‘Why? If you love me and I love you and Frank is dead . . .’

‘Mary, I can’t tell you! I
can’t
! You have to believe me when I say I love you and I want you for always! I know it’s a terribly hard thing to ask, for you to believe blindly. To trust me implicitly with your life and those of the children, but I’m begging you, Mary! Come back to Ballycowan with me and I’ll never leave you!’

She stared at him, confused. What was he saying? That she should go and live with him as his wife and yet not . . . ? ‘Is it because of my religion?’

‘No! It has nothing to do with that! That would be the least of my problems. I would change for you, Mary.’

‘Then why?’

‘I can’t tell you, my love! I will always take care of you, you have to believe that. We’ll both be happy. We
deserve
to be happy. I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you and I know you love me. Trust me, Mary, please?’

All the joy she’d felt began to drain away. He was asking her to live with him as his mistress, not his wife. ‘I . . . I can’t!’ Her voice broke in a sob.

‘Mary, please, trust me? Don’t throw away this chance for us to be happy. We’ve both suffered too much by being apart,’ he begged. He couldn’t lose her again. He couldn’t. He
wouldn’t
. ‘If you’ll come home I’ll find a place for you and the children. You don’t have to live at the castle. Mary, I can’t lose you again!’

She got to her feet, the tears falling unchecked down her cheeks. ‘I couldn’t live like that, Richard! I . . . I’m going.’

He reached out but she pulled away from him.

‘Mary! Where are you going? Don’t leave me again!’

‘Back to Newsham Street!’ she cried, hitching up her skirt and breaking into a run.

He watched her go. Was anything worth this? Was anything worth losing her again for? He hesitated for a few minutes and then began to follow her. Newsham Street she’d said.

Her tears fell silently all the way back in the cab she’d hailed outside the park gates. Oh, why was fate so cruel? To bring him back into her life and then . . . She was so glad now she hadn’t told the children. She loved him to distraction and always would but what was standing in the way? Was he married? Was he ill? Was there something else? Why wouldn’t he tell her? Could she trust him? Did she believe him when he promised to look after them always? Was it worth losing him? What would her life be like now, without him? The questions hammered inside her brain until she was confused and shaking and the cabbie had to help her down when they finally reached Newsham Street.

‘You all right, girl?’ he asked, worried.

She could only nod and hold out her fare.

‘Where’ve you been?’ Katie asked, getting up from the step where she’d been sitting waiting for her mother.

‘Just . . . just into town.’

‘Mam, what’s wrong?’

Mary shook her head. She couldn’t even try to answer.

‘Will I make you a cup of tea?’ the child asked, fearfully. Mam was obviously very upset.

Mary nodded. She went indoors to the empty kitchen and sank down beside the table, burying her face in her hands.

Katie went quietly about her preparations, wondering what was so very wrong. She put the pot on the table and went for the mugs but turned as Tommy came hurtling through the door, his face flushed.

‘Mam! Mam, a cab’s just pulled up and guess who . . .’

Mary uttered a cry and stood up. No! Oh, no! He’d followed her!

‘It’s Mr O’Neill, Katie!’ Tommy cried.

Katie dropped the mugs and stood and stared wide-eyed as Richard came into the doorway.

Before any of them could speak a small bundle burst into the room from the scullery and hurled itself into Richard’s arms.

‘Lizzie! Lizzie!’ Mary cried. He had lifted her up and the child was clinging to him and strange sounds were coming from her. Mary realised she was crying.

Richard stroked the tangled curls and his eyes met Mary’s. ‘Mary, for God’s sake, for
her
sake, come home?’ he begged.

She swallowed hard. Even after three years Lizzie had recognised him. What right had she to destroy Lizzie’s life again? Lizzie loved him. She’d never got over having to leave him. It would kill her to have to be parted from him again and what about herself? Was she right to turn her back again on the man she loved?

‘Oh, Mam! Mam! Can we go home?’ Tommy begged.

There was silence. Four pairs of pleading eyes stared at her.

‘I . . . we’ll come home with you, Richard. But I can’t . . . won’t live with you, not as you want me to. It’s for Lizzie’s sake. For all their sakes. I can’t take you away from them again, I’d never forgive myself.’

Chapter Twenty-Four

I
T HAD BEEN VERY late when he’d left. Lizzie had ‘talked’ to him for hours. It was as though everything she had held inside for three years now came pouring out. He was so patient with her, Mary thought, as she watched them. Oh, if only he would tell her why he couldn’t marry her. It wouldn’t matter. She wouldn’t care what it was or what he’d done. She still suspected that it had something to do with his visit to Rodney Street.

In the end it had been he who had told Lizzie she must go to bed but that he would be back tomorrow. When Mary had carried her up the stairs the child had hugged her and kissed her cheek. It was something she’d not done for so long that it tore at Mary’s heart.

When she’d returned to the kitchen he’d taken her in his arms.

‘I’ll find you a place, Mary, even if it’s just a cottage, and you’ll never want for anything ever again, I promise.’

She’d leaned her head on his shoulder. ‘You do understand that I can’t live with you as your wife, but it will be enough for me just to see you every day and maybe sometimes in the evenings? Will it be enough for you?’

It was hard, so very hard, but it was better than losing her completely. In time, maybe things would change?

‘It will have to be, Mary. I can’t lose you.’

‘And I’ll be your housekeeper? Do you have one?’

He’d smiled at her. ‘There have been a succession. It won’t be hard to get rid of the present one. She’s a slut and Julia detests her. She’ll be gone when you arrive. I’ll send for you, Mary, as soon as I can.’

‘Well, I don’t have much to pack,’ she’d said quietly.

‘You won’t regret your decision, my love, I promise.’

After he’d gone she went upstairs and sat on the bed. Who knew just what the future would bring? But it had to be better than everything she had endured here.

She heard Maggie come in and sighed. Maggie had been on an errand of mercy, sitting with Bella’s old mother who she was sure wouldn’t last the week. Mary was aware that the children were not asleep, too excited and happy at the prospect of going back to Ballycowan, although both Katie and Tommy had said they would regret leaving their friends behind. Still, it would be a far better life for them - all of them - she told herself firmly. She couldn’t deny them a chance of a decent future and even if . . . things didn’t work out between herself and Richard (although she pushed the thought firmly from her mind), she’d find other work; she’d make another home for them. She was no longer a stranger there. Life
had
to be better. She’d better explain it all to Maggie now.

‘How is she?’ she asked, sitting down opposite Maggie in the kitchen.

‘Not good. It would be a blessing if God took her sooner rather than later. Poor Bella’s worn out.’

‘Maggie, I’ve got something to tell you.’

The older woman looked at her closely. ‘What have you been up to, Mary? All this flitting off and not telling anyone where to?’

‘I . . . I met someone.’

‘Who?’ Maggie demanded. Mary looked a little feverish in her opinion.

‘Richard O’Neill.’

‘My God!’

‘I . . . I’m going back with him, Maggie.’

Maggie got to her feet. ‘I think I’d better go for Nellie.’

‘At this time of night?’