The Branded Man Page 9

  She said to him, ‘I long to be able to move’—she impulsively flung her arms wide—‘face space, run and run, to my grandpa and my brother. I have told you of them; they are lovely men.’

  ‘And your mama?’

  She turned her head away from him as she muttered, ‘My mother doesn’t want me at home; I’ve always been a nuisance.’

  ‘Never!’

  ‘Yes. Yes.’ She was looking at him again. ‘You see, I know I am impulsive; I do things, and when I’m upset…well, when I was back home and upset I just used to run, run out of the house, run for miles.’ She smiled now, a wan smile, saying, ‘I could, you know, Professor, I could run for great distances and not feel tired, but there’s nowhere here to run, is there?’

  ‘Oh yes; yes. On your way back home, your maid could take you through the park. It will only be five minutes further on. You could run from one gate to the other.’

  She was smiling broadly now, saying, ‘That’s an idea. It’s a wonder Sarah didn’t think of it. But there, it would make me late, which would get Sarah into trouble…there’s my aunt, you see.’

  He straightened up now and, his face solemn, he said, ‘I imagine it. I imagine it. Your aunt is a for-midable woman. Oh, yes. So, what you must do,’ he leaned towards her again, ‘is outwit her. Eh? Outwit her.’

  She smiled back at him as she said, ‘I’m always trying to do that, but my tactics are not subtle enough.’

  He cocked his head to one side and repeated, ‘Subtle?’

  ‘Yes, subtle, deep.’

  ‘Ah. Ah yes, subtle, deep. There are some words I don’t often hear, but subtle I shall remember. Now, let us turn to Chopin. What shall we attack first? A mazurka, eh? And I can assure you we shall both feel better in an hour’s time because—I will let you into a deep secret—’ and now his lips were quite close to her ear as he murmured, ‘the man behind the professor, too, is sad, and also for his home.’

  As she said, ‘Oh I’m sorry,’ she felt a great warmth arise in her for this man. He was different from everyone she had ever met and she was liking him more every day, and the desire to put her arms around him as she did with her grandpa and Pat, was very strong in her; but this she knew she must not do, because he wasn’t a relation.

  His hand came out towards her, then suddenly dropped away, and he turned from her, saying in a quite different tone, ‘Another day gone. Tomorrow we shall continue to arrest your hands from racing off the keys.’

  Although his tone had ended on a lighter note, she did not smile at his gentle chastising, for she knew that she had long since complied strictly to the time the music demanded.

  She did not say goodbye to him in the usual way, nor did he say anything to her, but he opened the door for her to pass into the corridor, and, walking slowly to the little waiting room, she knew that in an odd way something had happened between them, but what, she couldn’t put a name to; she only knew it was in the way he had withdrawn his hand and how he had then spoken to her.

  She hadn’t been with Sarah Foggerty a few minutes before that very intuitive woman asked, ‘Something wrong?’

  ‘No. No, nothing.’

  ‘Well, you do surprise me. You generally come out of there with your face full of stars; but if you had today, they would soon have been wiped off when I tell you that a letter came in the second post. Your mother’s refusing to have you back there for a holiday, although, by the sound of things, she and your sister are going off to Scotland; and reading between the lines, they are chuffed that these people who are inviting them are very Dublin.’

  Marie Anne hesitated in her step, her expression slightly puzzled, and she said, ‘What d’you mean, very Dublin?’

  ‘Well…well, as they say over there, talk like a Dubliner and you could be invited to Buckingham Palace. Very top drawer, you know, or up country, as them that come back home from America say. My cousin Shane came back from there. He said it was a place where only money talked and he couldn’t learn the language.’

  Sarah laughed outright now, as did Marie Anne. Then keeping to the subject, Sarah said, ‘I don’t see why their going on a holiday should stop you from having a trip home, and why the woman is so determined about it puzzles me. You didn’t murder anybody, did you, during your wild days there?’

  ‘No, Sarah, I didn’t, although I often felt inclined to at times. No; it’s just that I am not wanted in the family. But I can tell you that it no longer hurts me, because that family consists of Father, Mother, Vincent and Evelyn only. My family is made up of just two: Grandpa and my brother Pat.’

  ‘Aye well, that’s as may be, but your mother seems to have the upper hand.’

  Marie Anne was quick to turn now and say, ‘No, she hasn’t, not really. Grandpa is still master of both houses.’

  ‘Both of them? You have two then?’

  ‘Well, there is The Manor and The Little Manor.’

  ‘My God! Two houses, and your own mother won’t let you stay in one. Well it’s like they say, the English are the queerest breed on earth, and you can never bottom an Englishman: scrape away as you like, he’ll come up with a different face. Now us lot, in the main we are classed as common and ignorant and not over clean. They scorn us because we like pigs. Well, let me tell you, Miss Marie, that a pig is a very clean animal. It picks a place to leave what it doesn’t want, and that’s more than some English folk can do if you look at some of the streets we pass through. What d’you say?’

  Marie Anne could say nothing to this, because yes, some of the streets were really filthy: men spat a lot, and, as little Clara had said, the cleanest places in London were the pubs, because the floors were sawdusted and they kept spittoons there.

  As Marie Anne was about to step off the pavement and onto the rough road, Sarah pulled her to a halt, saying, ‘I wouldn’t die that way; it’d be very painful.’ Then as the two great feather-footed dray horses pulling the long flat cart full of barrels of beer rumbled past, she pointed to them, saying, ‘My! My! If I only had the money it cost just to make those barrels, I’d be up and away the morrer.’

  They had crossed the road weaving through handcarts, cabs and numerous boys pushing barrows, before Marie Anne spoke again, and what she said was, ‘Oh, I wish you wouldn’t talk like that, Sarah, because, you know, if you did I would be unable to stand that house, even…even if I still had the professor and the music, I just couldn’t stand it.’

  ‘Oh, my, miss! Don’t take any notice of my jabber. I’ve been going on like that for years. I’m always saying if I had this and if I had that, what I would do, when what I would likely do would be damn all, for if I had a few bob to throw away, it would go along to my sister Annie and her tribe, if anyone needs a windfall it’s her. You know, the only time I wish I were male is when I come across her man, Arthur Pollock, then I’d be wearing a pair of hobnailed boots and I’d kick him up the arse from here to blazes. Oh! Oh! Oh!’ Quickly now she covered her eyes with her hands, saying, ‘Sorry I am, miss, it is, it is. The things I come out with. Now I never use that word, not really…well, not in your presence anyway.’

  Marie Anne was spluttering now, ‘Oh, don’t worry about that, Sarah. It isn’t the first time I’ve heard that word. I’ve heard my grandpa use it when going for some of the men in the yard…well, let me put it politely, sitting on that part of their body when they should have been about their work.’

  They were walking very close together now, their bodies shaking with laughter. As they drew near to the house, Sarah Foggerty suddenly stopped and remarked, ‘D’you know what I’d like to do, miss?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Marie Anne on a laugh, ‘kick a certain person—’

  ‘No! No! Not at this minute. I’d like to go into the house singing. Just fancy if we both went in singing, what d’you think would happen?’

  ‘Oh!’ Marie Anne’s body was now shaking and she leaned against this lovable woman, saying, ‘I dare you to go in singing.’

  ‘I’ll do it, that’s if you pr
omise when I get the sack, you’ll come away with me.’

  Their laughter subsiding, they looked at each other; then Sarah said, ‘Wipe the smile off your face, miss; it looks as if it’s glued there. Remember, you’re very miserable. Come on, let’s face the meanest woman in this benighted country.’

  Four

  It was a stifling day. A haze of heat was pressing down on the city, and Sarah Foggerty, defying all orders, was walking in the street without a coat; as she said, exposing herself to the whole world in her uniform dress.

  As for Marie Anne, she was wearing a very soft print dress. It was of a white background dotted with tiny blue forget-me-nots. It had elbow-length sleeves and a square neck, a low square neck that should have been hidden by the small matching jacket swinging from her hand.

  At the door of the house, Sarah left her, saying, ‘Well, go on, sweat it out; me, I’m going to jump into the Serpentine, boots, hat an’ all.’

  ‘That wouldn’t surprise me, Sarah.’

  They parted on a laugh.

  There was no-one in the waiting room, but the door leading into the passage opened immediately and there stood the professor, saying, ‘I thought you would have joined all the rest of my pupils and gone to the seaside. All London must be hanging on to railway carriages today…Even Liza. She is attending some woman’s group she has joined. I think they are going to put the world to rights. That means getting rid of all men.’

  He was laughing loudly as he ushered her into the music room. Then looking into her face, he said, ‘Give me your hat; you look very hot,’ and instead of waiting for her to put down her music and take off her hat he bent swiftly towards her and pulled the long pin from the back of the straw hat, took off the hat and thrust the pin back into the straw, saying, ‘Dangerous things, hatpins. They would have a man up to the law if he carried such a weapon.’ Then after a pause and looking at her closely again, he said, ‘Do you want to practise?’

  ‘Please.’

  ‘Oh well, it is your lesson.’

  So she sat down, and first, as was usual, she ran through a series of scales. Following this, she opened her music at the piece she had been practising over the weekend. But when her fingers faltered on the keys he stopped her, saying, ‘Oh my dear, you are spiring…I mean, perspiring so much. Come; no more for the time being. Let us go into the next room; it is cooler there. The long window, it funnels the air from our narrow passage of a garden lying between its brick walls, and you like the piano there better, I think.’

  The room, as she had often thought, must have been used as a sitting room, for there was a suite in it, both the couch and the two chairs being upholstered in a soft leather, and the seats were very low.

  ‘Sit down on the couch,’ he said, ‘and I will go and make us a cooling drink, eh?’ He smiled down on her now, and she lay back and closed her eyes.

  She was so hot and sad inside, and that’s what the voice said to her and brought her eyes wide: ‘In repose your face looks very sad. Are you sad today?’

  She pulled herself up straight on the couch and took the glass of lemonade from his hand, saying, ‘Yes, I suppose I am.’

  He sat down beside her. He too was holding a glass, and he said practically, ‘Well, don’t hold the glass with two hands like that, it’ll be warm before you drink it. Drink it up; it is made from fresh lemons.’

  The drink was cool, and certainly refreshing, and she turned to him and smiled and said, ‘It’s lovely. We rarely have fruit back at the house, and never lemons. I don’t remember seeing a lemon since I came here, except of course in the shops.’

  When her drink was half finished, he took it from her, and with his own placed it on the floor to the side of them. Then pushing her gently back on the couch, he too leaned back, though he remained a little distance from her, and asked, ‘What has made you sad?’

  ‘Well, the letter I got this morning told me that my brother Pat was taken into hospital last week. His back has worsened. And he was getting on so well. He was going to make one of his journeys down here next week: he does so at least twice a year on business, something to do with the ships, you know. He was going to stay at a hotel. The rooms had been booked, mine also, and my aunt could do nothing about it. I was so excited. But apparently his back has become very painful. I understand they’re going to put him into a jacket of some sort, like a brace, so that he’ll be able to walk about. He was going to stay here a week.’

  Her voice suddenly broke, and she bit on her lip, and at this he moved along the couch and put his arm around her shoulder, saying, ‘There, there, my dear! Don’t cry, please. Please do not cry; I couldn’t bear to see you cry, you who are like bright daylight to me.’

  She blinked her eyes and looked into the face that was close to hers and she smiled softly as she said, ‘You do say the quaintest things, Professor.’

  ‘My name is Carlos.’

  ‘Carlos,’ she repeated.

  ‘Yes, Carlos; and you have said it and it sounded good. Carlos Alvarez, a Spaniard in a foreign country. Although I have been here a number of years it is still a foreign country to me, and it was so dull, so very dull and dreary until one day a dragon comes to me and says, “I have a niece who I want teached…taught to learn the piano, but your charge is too large. I will not pay you two and sixpence an hour; two shillings, that is all;” and…and so because I have to live I agreed. And then…and then …’ he lifted up his index finger as if he were commanding silence and his voice was very low as he went on, ‘the pupil came and from the minute I looked at her I knew I would have been very, very happy to teach her all I knew for nothing, no money whatever, because she is so beautiful…so strangely, strangely beautiful.’ The finger moved to her cheek, then down to her chin, and up to the other cheekbone, and she didn’t move. The finger then became part of a doubled fist placed close to his skin within the opened neck of his white shirt, and his deep voice was trembling as he went on, ‘She was the Infanta of dreams. Dreams such as a man has at night to blot out the drabness of his days and I thought, if I can make this Infanta my friend, that will be enough. Are you my friend, Marie Anne?’

  She was unable to speak, for she knew that if he had thoughts of her in the night, she too had had thoughts of him, for she had imagined him touching her face as he had just done. She imagined her head lying on his shoulder. She had even dared to imagine him kissing her lips. But he was a professor and he was married and it was wrong to hold such thoughts about him. But she could be his friend. Yes, yes; she could be his friend, and she said so now, her voice breaking into a whimper as she said, ‘I would love to be your friend, someone I can talk to about…about everything, especially the music. You…you know so much.’ An inner voice was telling her, yes that’s the best thing to do. Talk about your music. Ask him about the exams. ‘In fact,’ she now said, ‘I wanted to talk to you particularly about the examinations.’

  She watched his eyes close tightly, then blink once before, taking a handkerchief from a back pocket and rubbing it round his moist face, he spoke, saying one word: ‘Examinations.’

  ‘Yes. I…I will have to take examinations and practise for them, won’t I?’

  He moved slightly back from her now, saying. ‘Yes. Yes of course; but…but not for a time.’

  ‘I…I will soon have been with you a year and I understand I have a number of exams to get through before I can be qualified to teach.’

  Leaning forward, he put his elbows on his knees and his joined hands moved between them for a time before, businesslike, he said, ‘Yes; yes, you must have examinations before you are qualified; but when you are ready for examinations you will go to an academy.’

  ‘Why? Why?’ She was leaning towards him now, her hand on his arm. ‘Can’t you put me through examinations?’

  He straightened his back and looked at her as he said, ‘No, my dear. I am sorry I must tell you, and I would ask you to keep it to yourself, but I cannot put you through an examination. I can prepare you as far a
s any teacher could, but…but I cannot arrange for you to have an examination in music.’

  She drew her head back from him as if to get him into focus, and then she said, ‘Why on earth not? You are a marvellous teacher. I know I have improved to a far greater extent than I ever thought possible.’

  He turned towards her again. Their knees were touching and there was a great sadness in his voice as he said, ‘This is not a proper academy. I am just like many another in this trade. I…I can confess this to you: I am not a professor of music. I have myself never taken an examination, although I know that I am better qualified than the thousands who have. I know I have great ability, but I am of a…what you would call a’—he seemed to be hunting for a word, then said,—‘facile nature. Perhaps I am hard on myself in saying that, for I was never given the opportunity. Some day I will tell you my story, then you will understand. In the meantime, my dearest, dearest Infanta’—now his hand was cupping her cheek—‘the day we have to part my life will change, but part we shall have to. When the year is up, I myself will write to your grandfather and put the story before him, and your uncle or someone else responsible will see that you are settled in a good home and as a member of a real academy. Yes; oh yes, you could because, my dear, dear Marie Anne—’ he was now holding her face in both hands and his voice was breaking as he said, ‘you have a remarkable talent. But you should have been trained from when you were a child. You need discipline. You agree?’

  She couldn’t say yes or nay: she only knew at this moment that she too would be desolate when she had to part from him, and she was near to tears now as she said, ‘I won’t…I won’t bother with exams; it doesn’t matter. But I don’t want anyone else to teach me but you, only you, ever.’