The Branded Man Read online

  ‘I can understand all you’ve said, Sarah, but let’s face it: how’s she going to make the other flight past this door?’

  ‘Oh, she’s young; she’ll make it better than I will.’

  ‘You’re talking like an old woman.’

  ‘I’m feeling like an old woman, Annie. Anyway, I must get back now. Time’s going on, if we want somewhere to sleep tonight. By the way, where is he?’

  ‘Oh, he’s as far as Brighton now with the gang. They are demolishing a big hotel. It’ll take them another week, I should think.’

  ‘Thank God for that.’

  ‘Oh, he can’t help what he is, Sarah.’

  Sarah shook her head slowly now as she said, ‘You puzzle me, our Annie. He’s not worth livin’ with and still you’re for him.’

  When a little voice piped up now, saying, ‘You goin’ away so soon, Auntie Sarah?’ Sarah, bending down to the four-year-old, said, ‘I’ll be back, love; and you Callum’—she ruffled the curls of the three-year-old boy, adding, ‘you get bigger every week.’ Then turning to her sister, she asked, ‘Where are Kathleen and Joseph?’

  ‘Oh, they started at the new school, both in the sixes. I know I should’ve kept them with the nuns, but they weren’t learnin’ anything. Hymns and Irish songs and Catechism and the rosary and a bit of drawin’ and playing with plasticine. Billy’s been there for a year and he’s streets ahead. He can read and write and count. But then there’s Michael. He hates going all day; he wants to play the nick like Shane. Still, many a day I’m glad of that boy playing the nick for he can earn up to two shillings bagging coal dust. Of course, I’ve got to put him in the wash tub at night to get the muck off him; that is when his dad’s at home, other nights he sluices under the tap in the yard. There’s going to be hell to pay when Father Weir gets wind of the two youngsters going Protestant. It’s no use me reminding him they’re all Protestants, because their father’s a Protestant. Oh, but he says I’m a Catholic and as their mother I’ve got to go as far as fighting hell fire with lamp oil to save their souls.’

  ‘I’m away, Annie. I’m away.’ Sarah went out laughing. Fight hell fire with lamp oil…did you ever hear any such thing? In a way she’d be glad to be living near to Annie again. It would be just as they were before they came across the water to make their fortunes, God help them.

  They both stood some distance from the bed and staring at its occupant, who was addressing Marie Anne, saying, ‘Girl! I cannot bear to look at you. You are dirty! Filthy! Vile!’

  Marie Anne’s jaws were gripped tightly together, yet as she listened to these words she heard herself yelling them at Evelyn: dirty, vile, filthy: and once more she was sorry that she had ever said them.

  ‘You are going into a home which will be no better than a house of correction, and you will be made to see and face up to the wickedness of your ways, because you are a wicked girl at heart. Even before you sinned you were of an unruly mind and temper.’

  When Martha Culmill paused for breath, Marie Anne said quietly, ‘Are you finished, Aunt?’ a question which seemed to stagger the woman, for she said, ‘What d’you mean, am I finished?’

  ‘Just that; are you finished telling me how wicked I am, because I want to begin telling you how wicked you are. You are a mean, nasty, intolerant woman and, I’ve got to say it, you are from the same side of the family as my mother and you are similar in many ways.’

  ‘How dare you! How dare you! Get her out this minute, Foggerty. I never want to lay eyes on her again.’

  ‘I’ll do that, ma’am, in just a tick. Now, as you know, you pay me every Saturday. Well, that’s four days gone and I’m wonderin’ if I could sub half the week’s pay that will be due to me come this Saturday. I’m really due four shillings, but I’ll take three.’

  ‘You’ll what! What are you talking about, woman? Why do you want the money in the middle of the week?’

  ‘It’s to go towards something, ma’am.’

  ‘Go towards something? What?’

  ‘You wouldn’t understand, ma’am, but I’m going to need every penny. If you could oblige me by—’

  ‘Really! This is the latest. Fetch the box.’

  Sarah brought the box, and her mistress opened it with a key she took from a vanity bag that was lying on the bedside table. After she had extracted three shillings from it and thrust them at Sarah, the shrewd, even sagacious, Irish woman, put them in her pocket, saying, ‘Thank you, ma’am. Now we are straight. I’ve stolen nothing from you, I’ve just taken me due.’

  The woman was sitting straight up in bed now and looking from one to the other, for her servant and her niece were both dressed for outdoors, and she said, ‘What is the matter with you this morning, Foggerty? Get about your business now. You know what you’ve got to do with her. Then get back here, because today I intend going downstairs.’

  ‘Ma’am, I think you’d better steel yourself. Yes, I’m goin’ about me business, and her business, too’—she motioned with her head towards Marie Anne—‘but she’s goin’ into no home.’ Her bantering tone changed now as she went on. ‘Home? House full of street whores! I have been there this morning, and if I had one wish, it would be that I could transport you into the middle of them and leave you in the place you were goin’ to put her. They were all young whores. D’you hear me, ma’am? Young whores. They were the dregs of the street, vile-mouthed and brazen. Now, for your further information, I’ll tell you this: I’m leaving with her.’

  ‘You’re not. How dare you! You’re employed here. I will have the police on you both. I will wire her mother…her grandfather.’

  ‘I wouldn’t waste your money, ma’am, for she’s already written to them both, and she’s told her grandfather that she is leaving here because she can’t stand you any longer.’

  It would appear that Miss Martha Culmill had been struck dumb or had had a seizure, for she was lying back on her pillows, her mouth agape; that is, until they both moved towards the door, when she screamed, ‘Foggerty! Foggerty! You will come back here! I need you, I’m a sick woman!’

  ‘Then you must pay for a proper nurse, ma’am.’

  ‘I will have you found and fined if you—’

  ‘You can do what you like, ma’am. Come along, dear.’ She put out a hand towards Marie Anne, who seemed to be taking one last look at the woman in the bed, and they went out, followed by high screams of, ‘Foggerty! Foggerty! Come back here!’

  Agnes and Clara were waiting for them. Clara was crying and the cook was biting hard down on her lip and visibly trembling as she said, ‘It’ll never be the same again. It’s been bearable with you being here, Sarah, but now, Clara and me, we’ll try to get a place together. You see, she’s like you miss’—she nodded towards the young girl—‘or even worse, she’s got nobody at all who wants her. And so I’ve promised I’ll not move without her, even though I know it’ll be difficult to get a situation together.’

  The little maid now made a rush at Marie Anne and put her arms around her neck, and they clung together for a moment until Cook said, ‘Your sister, Sarah…I know you’re goin’ to your sister’s, but where does she live?’

  Sarah turned to look at Marie Anne, who was now crying, and as if making a decision she said, ‘’Tis better you don’t know, Cook, because if you did and anybody came here, I mean her people lookin’ for her, out of pity alone you would likely give the show away. So just leave it at that. But, I can tell you, we’ll pop in the back door now and again to see if you’re still here, and say hello.’

  ‘You would do that, Sarah?’

  ‘Yes, we would, we would, wouldn’t we, miss?’

  ‘Oh yes. Oh yes, Cook.’ Marie Anne was now enfolded in Cook’s embrace. Then, taking charge of the emotional situation, Sarah said, ‘Well, come on; let’s get our luggage out of the hall and into the front street. And there we must take a cab, because if we want to sleep tonight, there’s a lot still to be done.’

  Ten minutes later they were in a cab and wav
ing goodbye to the big woman and the small maid standing on the step …

  One mile and fifteen minutes later, after a detour so as to bring his cab to the opening of Ramsay Court, the cabbie helped Sarah to put the cases just inside the yard. Having been told his fare was ten pence, she proferred him a shilling, saying, ‘There you are, then; and thanks.’

  She had never before had the pleasure of tipping a cabbie tuppence, but like most ungrateful cabbies he showed little pleasure at her generosity.

  When Marie Anne now went to pick up two of the cases Sarah said quickly, ‘Leave them be! I’ll take two up now, and you stay there with the rest of the clutter, because we can’t carry all that stuff upstairs at once. Don’t leave them for a minute, mind, or let anyone near them, you understand?’

  Marie Anne did not nod in reply but watched the trim figure hurrying across the yard, a suitcase in one hand, a bulging holdall in the other, leaving her standing in some amazement at the sight before her. The strangeness of it had opened her eyes wide: there was a woman emptying a bucket of hot ash onto a sizzling heap in the corner of the yard; and outside a small building another was wielding a poss stick up and down in a poss tub. She had seen women possing before. There were two poss tubs in the ash-house at home. One was used for the staff clothes and one for the house clothes, so she understood what the woman was doing, but she was further amazed when a man, adjusting the front of his trousers emerged from what she took to be a water-closet.

  She stiffened as the man, pushing the tail of his shirt into his trousers, turned towards her.

  ‘Want a hand, lass?’

  ‘N-n-no thank you,’ she stammered.

  ‘Waitin’ for somebody?’

  ‘Yes. Yes, I am.’

  He looked behind him and around before he said, ‘You comin’ to live here, then?’

  She did not answer, for beyond the man she could see Sarah approaching. The man himself turned and, seeing Sarah, called to her, ‘Oh, hello, Sarah. It’s you!’

  ‘Yes, Mr Barnes, it’s me.’

  ‘You not at work?’

  ‘No. Had the skitters for days; weakens you, like.’

  Pointing to the luggage, he said, ‘Don’t say you’re coming to live here, Sarah.’

  ‘Yes. Yes, we are, for the present.’

  ‘Top flat?’

  ‘Aye, top flat.’

  ‘My God! That’s a haul.’

  ‘Aye, it is.’

  ‘Come on, pick them up,’ Sarah was addressing Marie Anne now, and at this the man said, ‘Oh, give me the big case; I’m still strong enough for that. Take it up as far as our landing anyway.’

  ‘Oh. Oh, thanks, Frank.’

  When they reached the first floor Sarah said, ‘We’ll manage all right from here, Frank, let’s have it.’

  The man smiled and said, ‘Good enough.’ Then he stared at Marie Anne and asked, ‘You stayin’ here an’ all?’

  Before Marie Anne could answer, Sarah put in, ‘Yes, she’s stayin’ here an’ all, Frank. We’ll be seein’ you,’ and straight away picked up the two cases, leaving Marie Anne to follow with the rest of their belongings up the second flight and into Annie’s flat, and there Sarah, dropping her cases, said, ‘My God! I’ll be dead before I start. Well, Annie, this is Miss Marie Anne Lawson. This is my sister, miss.’

  The return to formalities caused Marie Anne to respond with, ‘How do you do?’ only then to thrust out a hand and say, as Clara might, ‘Pleased to meet you.’

  ‘Aye, and you, miss.’

  It was evident that Annie was staggered by her sister’s charge, this tall girl who seemed to be much older than sixteen. Well, that’s what Sarah had said she was; and she’d said she was beautiful. To her mind she wasn’t beautiful—but odd-looking, foreign-like.

  As for Marie Anne, she couldn’t yet take in the fact that this was where she was to live. She had never imagined Sarah living or being associated with anyone who existed under these conditions. Ten children, Sarah said, lived here. Then there was that yard and people doing different things as if they were everyday occurrences. Of course they were everyday occurrences. What was the matter with her? And if she was to live here some of the things they were doing would become everyday occurrences for her, she supposed.

  Sarah was saying, ‘Well, if we want a mattress and something to cover us for the night, we’d better be off to Paddy’s. I’ll move our stuff as soon as I get back, Annie.’

  ‘Oh, it can stay in the corner for as long as it needs. Anyway, I wouldn’t be surprised but the two of you’ll be sleepin’ on the mat here in front of the fire tonight; you’re not givin’ much time for gettin’ beddin’ up there. But there’ll be a meal for you when you get back, even if it’s only mutton broth and suet balls.’

  Marie Anne would always remember the two hours she spent in Paddy’s Emporium. If she had been amazed by Ramsay Court and the conditions under which Sarah’s sister lived, she was utterly dumbfounded by the conglomeration of articles that she walked over, pushed through, squeezed through from the ground floor to the fourth. The ground floor was a mass of machinery in disordered heaps, seeming to be the result of an explosion; the first floor displayed chairs, couches, beds et cetera; the second, everything needed in a gigantic kitchen; the next, the remnants of linen of all kinds, from dishcloths to curtains; and on the top floor, odds and ends of china and crockery.

  It was the third floor to which Sarah made her way. Here was linen of all kinds; that is to say, remnants of it: sheets, blankets, bedcovers, pillowcases, towels, curtains.

  Paddy O’Connell had followed them upstairs. It was a Wednesday, and it was strange that Wednesdays should be such quiet days. It was the middle of the week, he supposed, and people didn’t know if they were coming or going. He studied the woman and the young girl and he summed them up as different types from his usual customers.

  ‘Can I help you, ladies?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes, you can, Paddy. It’s like this.’ Sarah faced him squarely. ‘I’ve got a sister livin’ in the Court. It must be twelve years ago since you furnished her four rooms for next to nothing. Well, we’re in the same boat as regards money: we have only so much and we want to furnish a kitchen-cum-living room and a bedroom, but we want some of your decent stuff. Have you any planted on the side?’

  ‘Oh, miss. Miss. Me plant anything on the side? For God’s sake! Look about you: everything’s open to the eye.’

  ‘Aye, so I’ve heard.’ And Sarah turned to a bundle of sheets now, saying, ‘Look at them! They’re made up of patches, and even those you could read the paper through.’

  ‘Well, look down the barrel; you might find something better. People never get to the bottom.’

  Sarah now turned to Marie Anne, saying, ‘Do as he says and get to the bottom of that, and see what you can find. Look out for pillowcases. We want everything: sheets, blankets, pillowcases, towels; we want a bed. Well, we’ve got a bed, it’s a big brass one. That’s the only thing in the room. But we want a decent mattress for it, and I’m not havin’ any of yours, because it wouldn’t have to go on the handcart, it would walk there itself.’

  ‘Now, now! That is not kind, miss. But perhaps I can find you something decent down in the huts. First of all, tell me how much you’ve got to spend.’

  Sarah eyed him, then said, ‘First of all I’ll tell you again what I want. I want two pairs of sheets and pillows and pillowcases and three blankets; I want half a dozen towels, large ones; a table cover or two. Two pairs of curtains. None of your flimsy stuff. I don’t care how badly they’re faded as long as they’re thick; like tapestry, you know.’

  He was nodding at her, punctuating her demands with, ‘Just as you say. Just as you say.’

  ‘And I want some mats, decent rugs. I want a couple of easy chairs—I can do without a couch.’

  ‘Oh, we must have a couch.’ There was a touch of sarcasm in his voice, and she came back, imitating him, saying, ‘Just as you say,’ and this caused him to laugh.
r />   ‘How much have you got to spend?’

  Marie Anne cast a quick glance at Sarah, and as if learning quickly, she looked at the assortment of sheets and pillowcases she had pulled from the barrel and said, ‘There’s nothing here really worth having.’

  As Sarah stifled a laugh the man said, ‘Well, well! And that said to your face and in your own shop; but just as you say, there’s nothing there worth having.’

  He turned back to Sarah, saying, ‘Well, I asked the question, how much money are you going to fork out to furnish two rooms completely? It’s like setting up a house for life, mind.’

  ‘Two-ten to three pounds. That’s between us.’

  Again Paddy O’Connell looked from one to the other and he summed them up correctly as being from different classes and he wondered why they were going into such a place as Ramsay Court. One looked like a well rigged-out servant, and she talked like one, too; but the other, he couldn’t place her, middle-drawer type, he would say. He seemed to reach a decision, and said, ‘How soon are you wantin’ to get set up?’

  ‘Now…today. You still have your flat cart?’

  ‘We not only have our flat cart, miss, we’ve got a van.’

  ‘Oh, that’s even better.’

  ‘And you want a full house geared for two-ten to three pounds? You’re not expecting much, are you? Well, as far as I can see, as the young miss there is so particular about bedwear, she’s goin’ to turn her nose up here and there, more often here than there. So, I could strike a bargain with you. I could turn your two rooms into a comfortable little palace say for’—he looked from one to the other—‘three quid each.’

  ‘Three pounds each! Mother of God!’ Sarah turned her full gaze on Marie Anne, and to her surprise found she was aiming to smile, and she said, ‘Did you hear him?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Marie Anne, ‘and we could likely stretch to it.’