Mrs Flannagan's Trumpet Page 9

  ‘No, that’s right, Maggie. But when we’re dishin’ out thanks’—his face broadened into a smile now—‘we would never have known he was in the cove, would we, if it hadn’t been for the lad there. Now, would we?’

  ‘No, no; you’re right there.’

  Eddie blinked as his grandmother turned her face fully towards him. But she didn’t say, ‘Thank you, lad,’ what she said was, ‘Go down to the kitchen and tell Daisy to fill the four stone bottles, and you bring an oven shelf up, that’s if’—she paused and her voice became bitter—‘the prodigal son hasn’t returned. Well, if he’s there just give Daisy the message. Tell her I’m cold; and forget about the oven shelf and keep him talking, even fighting. And that shouldn’t be difficult for you, should it?’

  Even when her lips twisted into a wry smile he thought, Eeh! She’s still the same, trumpet or no trumpet.

  Mrs Flannagan now rose from the chair and followed them both through the aperture into the bedroom and as she went towards the bedroom door to let them out, she paused; then taking hold of Eddie’s arm, she quickly drew him back towards the head of the bed, saying, ‘I’ll keep that closed,’ and thumbed towards the aperture in the rock wall. Pointing to a square of stone above the bedhead, which looked no different from the others except that it was so placed that the end of it was in line with the end of the bed rail, she added, ‘Knock on that. It’s a single slab, I’ll hear you…Yes’—she nodded briskly at him now—‘I know what you’re thinking, but keep it to yourself for the present. And I repeat, I’ll hear you. Go on now.’ She almost pushed him from her.

  He felt his indignation rising. It seemed unfair the way she treated him. After all he had gone through during the last few hours, she still acted towards him as if he were a bairn, and an unruly one at that …

  Hal Kemp wasn’t in the kitchen. It was three o’clock that afternoon before he came into the house, by which time many things had happened. An old man carrying a black hard case bag had gone through his grandmother’s bedroom and into that strange, weird place and hadn’t blinked an eyelid. He had examined his grandfather and pronounced that he had concussion. He had stitched the wound in his head, then had drunk half a tumbler of brandy that his granny offered him. And all the while he had called his granny Maggie and she had called him Stephen. It was as if they had known each other intimately all their lives. On leaving, he had said the first thing he would do when he got back to town would be to inform the police of the captain’s disappearance; and he added, ‘I’ll be back in the morning, Maggie.’

  … And Daisy. Daisy’s questioning had caused him more bother than the policeman’s. What was going on up there? The mistress was in her nightie and in bed all right but where were the four water bottles, the bed was as flat as a pancake? And why had they all previously been so long in the bedroom, and the bedroom door locked? Wouldn’t he tell her what was going on? She had appealed to him; he could trust her.

  Looking back now he remembered his surprise at his reaction when she had said he could trust her: he had put his hand on her shoulder and, leaning towards her, had said quietly, ‘I know I can, Daisy; and if it only lay with me I would tell you everything. But you’ll likely know soon enough, so will you trust me and ask no more questions and do just what I tell you?’

  Another time he would have expected her answer to be explosive, but she had further surprised him by saying softly, ‘All right, Eddie; only…only look after yourself ’cos I’m sort of frightened inside. I don’t know why, but I’m just frightened inside.’

  As he gazed down into her face a strangely protective feeling towards her had come over him. Then straightening his shoulders, he had said, ‘There’s nothing for you to be afraid of.’ And almost without pausing he had asked, ‘Where’s Penny?’

  Her reply, ‘Out in the stable. She found a seagull on the cliff top with its wing broken,’ had caused him to dash out of the house and rush to the stable.

  There, he had caught hold of Penny and, to her amazement and indignation, almost dragged her into the kitchen and shouted at her, ‘Now you stay along of Daisy! Don’t go wandering on those cliff tops. Do you hear me?’

  She had burst out crying, exclaiming as she did so, ‘What’s got into you, our Eddie? Oh, I wish me ma was back. Oh, I do! I do.’ And he had endorsed this loudly, crying, ‘And so do I! It’s one body’s work lookin’ after you.’

  At this both girls gaped at him, and he had turned from their stares and marched out of the room, saying to no-one in particular, ‘Oh yes, I wish me ma was back. There’s nobody wishes that more than me.’

  Chapter Six

  The wind was high again and likely this was why neither Eddie, nor Daisy, nor Penny heard Hal Kemp’s footsteps in the yard. It wasn’t until he snapped up the latch of the lower part of the door that they were aware of him.

  Eddie was at the fire, about to lift the big black kettle off the hob in order to refill the hot-water bottles, and he didn’t turn round but his hand remained still on the handle of the kettle, until the fierce heat of the fire made him jerk it from the hob and onto the fender.

  His granny had told him to act natural. Well, now was the time to start; but for the life of him he couldn’t turn round and face that man at the moment without his feelings giving him away, and so he was grateful when he heard Penny say, ‘Oh, hello, Uncle Hal. We were wondering where you had got to.’

  When Hal Kemp’s answer came it sounded quiet, very unlike his usual boisterous tone. ‘Been fishin’…There!’

  There was a soft thud on the table which proclaimed to Eddie that Hal Kemp had brought evidence of his fishing trip.

  ‘Where’s Auntie?’

  It was Daisy who answered now, saying, ‘She’s bad, in bed.’

  ‘Bad, in bed?’

  ‘Aye, that’s what I said. She had to have the doctor this mornin’…It’s worry over the master.’

  There was a pause before Hal Kemp asked, ‘What do you mean, worry over the master?’

  It took all Eddie’s self-control to go on filling the water bottles, for he had the greatest urge to turn round and spring at the man and beat him to the ground. He could see himself jumping on him and punching him until he was in the same state as he had left an old man this morning.

  ‘The captain’s lost.’

  Again there was a pause before Hal Kemp said, ‘What you talking about, girl?’

  ‘Just what I said, the captain’s lost. He went out yesterday and hasn’t come back. The pollis has been.’

  ‘The pollis, here?’ There had been no pause before this question.

  ‘Aye, not one, but two. And the coastguard an’ all.’

  There was silence in the kitchen for a moment, broken only by the sound of Eddie screwing the stone stoppers into the water bottles; and not until he had tested them, to see that they weren’t running out, by turning each bottle onto its end did he turn about and look at the man standing now at the far side of the kitchen table.

  As Hal Kemp returned Eddie’s look he seemed to regain a little of his own sarcastic boisterousness for now he exclaimed, ‘Changin’ your trade, lad, playin’ nursemaid? You’d better look out, Daisy’—he nodded towards Daisy who was staring at him, her face straight—‘else you’ll be losing your job.’

  What Eddie’s response to this would have been he didn’t know. Yet of one thing he was certain, it wouldn’t have been in accordance with his granny’s orders. But his impulse was checked by a violent dig in the back and Daisy yelling at him, ‘If you don’t take those bottles upstairs they’ll be as cold as dishwater. Go on, don’t stand there like a stook.’

  Daisy’s pushing had caused him to take a few steps past the table and when he swung round she was close behind him with her back to Hal Kemp, and it was the look on her face, the warning in her eyes, that checked his outburst; and so, almost flinging himself round again, he went from the room, across the hall, took the stairs two at a time, crossed the landing at a run, only on reaching his grandmother
’s door to tap gently on it twice.

  Almost immediately, it was opened and his granny, dressed in a long white nightdress that was buttoned under her chin and which fell to the floor and covered her slippers, pulled him into the room, saying, ‘I know, I know. I saw him coming, from the window. Bring them in quick!’ She went ahead of him through the aperture in the wall, along the narrow passage, and into the wall room, saying as she went, ‘He’s awake, he’s spoken. Put that one at his feet.’ She now grabbed the other water bottle from Eddie and, lifting the blankets, put it gently against her husband’s side, murmuring as she did so, ‘There you are, Davy. There you are, man. Keep warm, sweat it out. I’ll be back in a minute. Lie quiet now.’

  With that, she patted her husband’s cheek that was no longer pale but flushed and a deep red. Then taking Eddie by the arm, she turned him about and drew him back into the bedroom. She then went into the cupboard, and Eddie stood and watched the wall move into place, and he marvelled that once it was settled it looked as if it had never been moved.

  Sitting on the side of the bed, his granny now threw off her slippers, revealing her stockinged feet and the fact that she was fully dressed underneath, and, getting into bed, she drew Eddie to her with a motion of her hand. And now she whispered to him, ‘If I know anything he’ll be up here in a minute, so stay by me because, like you, I’m not very good at acting, and also playing the hypocrite; and what’s more I don’t want to be left alone with him because God knows what I might be tempted to do.’

  Eddie nodded at her. He could understand her feelings and strangely at this moment he felt very close to her. She was no longer the old vixen with the ear trumpet, and she had asked him to stand by her. He leaned towards her now, saying with a mischievous glint in his eye, ‘You’d better remember you’re still deaf.’

  She now pressed her lips tightly together and slanted her eyes at him, but she said nothing, only reached out and, picking up the ear trumpet from the side table, she laid it on the counterpane. But when he said, ‘I’d better unbolt the door,’ she nodded to him.

  He had hardly withdrawn the bolt when he heard the heavy footsteps on the oak stairs. He turned and signalled to his grandmother, and she in turn signalled back to him to take the seat by the side of the bed.

  When the voice came from beyond the door calling loudly, ‘All right to come in, Auntie?’ they exchanged glances, and Eddie saw it was with a great effort that his grandmother forced herself not to reply, but nodded furiously at him. And so it was he who called out, ‘Aye; it’s all right.’

  The door opened and Hal Kemp entered the room. After closing the door behind him, he paused a moment and shook his head as he looked towards the bed. Then moving slowly forward, he said, ‘Oh, Aunt Maggie, what’s happened to you?’

  ‘What?’ She had her trumpet to her ear.

  ‘What’s happened to you?’

  ‘A cold.’ The suppressed emotion in her voice even caused her to croak.

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry. And’—again he was shouting into the trumpet—‘what’s this I hear about Uncle not comin’ home yet? Has he gone out with some of his cronies on a fishing trip, do you think?’

  His granny was so long in answering that Eddie, feeling she was about to let loose her pent-up feelings on her nephew, moved his legs and accidentally on purpose brought his knee in sharp contact with the mattress.

  ‘I shouldn’t think so, not from what the constable said.’

  ‘Well, I shouldn’t worry; he’s likely sleeping it off somewhere. It won’t be the first time that he’s stayed out all night.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, if he’s had a load on he might have woken up with a head and wanted to get over it afore he faced you. Perhaps he’s havin’ a hair of the dog that bit him to bolster up his courage.’

  He’d hardly finished the last word before the trumpet was grabbed from his hand.

  ‘Get out and leave me alone!’

  ‘Aw well, if you’re feelin’ like that I’ll go.’ But before turning from the bed he leaned towards her and mouthed, ‘I’ll have a walk along the coastline. Who knows but he may have hurt himself or something.’

  ‘What do you say?’ He turned a steely gaze on Eddie who, looking back at him, muttered, ‘Nowt.’

  ‘Well, it better be nowt, laddie. And what are you sittin’ up here for anyway?’ He had turned from the bed now but continued to talk as he walked towards the door. ‘Gettin’ on the right side of the old girl, are you? Hoping for rewards for being a good boy?’

  The doorknob in his hand, he turned and looked towards the bed, and what he saw brought his mouth slightly open and his eyes narrowing because Mrs Flannagan’s arm was stretched across the coverlet and her hand was gripping Eddie’s wrist, the sleeve of her nightdress had fallen back and the cuff and part of the sleeve of her grey housedress was showing. He continued to stare at them both for some few seconds before turning swiftly and going out. And they heard his footsteps crossing the landing and the opening and shutting of his bedroom door.

  Mrs Flannagan’s hand was still holding Eddie’s wrist and they both looked down at it, and, pointing to the cuff of her dress, she whispered, ‘Do you think he noticed that?’

  ‘Aye, I think so,’ he whispered back.

  ‘It’s just as well then.’ She nodded at him. ‘We’ll see what happens next. If he thinks we’re on to him it won’t be long before he shows his hand in some way. Bolt the door again. Do it quietly.’

  Within a matter of seconds she was out of the bed, in and out of the oak cupboard, and was passing through the opening into the wall room. Eddie followed as quickly and saw her smile as she approached the bed, for Mr Flannagan’s eyes were wide open; and when she caught hold of his hand he said, ‘Maggie! Maggie!’

  ‘Yes, Davy, what is it? How you feeling?’

  ‘Maggie.’

  ‘Yes, dear.’

  ‘How…how did I get…here?’

  ‘It’s a long story. We’ll tell you all about it later. Here, drink this.’ She held a cup to his lips.

  After he had sipped at it his head drooped back on the pillow and he closed his eyes, saying, ‘It’s painful, Maggie. It’s painful.’

  ‘Yes, dear, but it’s all right. Stephen’s been. He stitched you up; you’re going to be all right.’

  ‘Stephen?’

  ‘Aye.’

  ‘Why…why am I not in my own bed, Maggie?’

  ‘A number of reasons, Davy. But you’ll be there soon. Can…can you tell us what happened?’

  ‘What?’ He screwed up his eyes against the pain in his head, then said, ‘I…I can’t think; this flaming pain.’

  ‘All right, don’t worry, just lie quiet. Go to sleep.’ She gently stroked his brow.

  They sat one on each side of him until he had fallen asleep again, then she motioned to Eddie and they moved from the room and back into the bedroom, and there, flopping down onto the side of the bed, she said, ‘I’m very tired, boy, and you must be the same. Once he gets out of the house’—she pointed a weary hand towards the bedroom door—‘we must have a rest, if it’s only for an hour or so, because I’ve got a feeling that this business is just at the beginning.’

  ‘Gran.’

  ‘Yes, boy?’

  ‘How will you go about telling them that you’ve had granda here all the time?’

  She nodded her head slowly; and then she answered, ‘I’ve given that some thought meself, and I think the only thing I’ll be able to say, and that only up till tomorrow, is that he fell into a ditch and banged his head on a rock and when he came to he stumbled home. But after tomorrow, well, that wouldn’t wash. I doubt if they’d believe it now. But give me time, I’ll think of something. Only one thing is sure, they must never know about that’—she pointed to the open rock door—‘because if they ever found out there was such a place—not that they haven’t had their suspicions; oh aye—but if they ever got proof of it their memory would go back years, and from there the
y would pick up threads that would shatter a number of lives. So, boy, remember that you, too, are carrying a weight on your shoulders, the weight of a silent tongue. Even your mother who was brought up in this very house knows nothing about that place. List!…There he goes.’

  They both listened to the footsteps go across the landing and down the stairs; then his granny said, ‘Stand by the side of the window and watch for him going.’

  Eddie did as he was bid. But when five minutes had passed, then ten, he looked towards his granny and said, ‘He must be having a meal. No!’—his head jerked quickly now—‘there he is. He’s got a bundle with him.’

  Almost as he finished speaking there was a knock on the door and Daisy’s voice came to them, saying, ‘Missis! Missis!’

  All tiredness apparently gone from her, Mrs Flannagan seemed to spring to the cupboard and out again, and as she climbed into the bed the stone door fell into place. And now she nodded towards Eddie, and he, taking the signal, opened the door.

  Daisy stood just within the room looking from one to the other. There was something going on and she wasn’t part of it and her expression showed that she didn’t like it.

  Slowly she went to the foot of the bed and her hand moved round one of the knobs two or three times before she said, ‘He’s gone.’

  ‘Gone? What do you mean, gone?’

  ‘I mean Mr Hal’s done a flit.’

  ‘How do you make that out?’

  ‘Well, he’s broken the cash box in the desk in the sittin’ room and taken the money out of it.’

  ‘He’s what!’

  ‘What I said. I was in the hall when he came downstairs. He didn’t see me but he went into the sittin’ room and I heard him opening the desk. When he banged it closed I made for the kitchen, and when he came in he said, “I’m…I’m off then, Daisy.”’