A Mother's Duty (29 page)

Mick decided to admit to his mother about borrowing the money and managed to gain her attention for a few moments when the table was being cleared.

She shook her head at him. ‘You should have asked.’

‘That’s what
he
said.’

‘
He?
’

‘The big fella!’

Kitty sighed. ‘Why can’t you call him Dad?’

‘Because he’s not my dad.’ Mick frowned. ‘Anyway I’ll work the debt off.’

‘Did you tell your stepfather that?’

‘He said I could keep the five bob but I didn’t think it was his to give. This is your hotel, Ma.’

She stared at him. ‘You didn’t say that to him, did you?’ Colour rose in Mick’s cheeks and he was silent. ‘You did! Oh Mick,’ she groaned. ‘How could you be so thoughtless? He has his pride you know, and he’s put money into this hotel.’

‘I’m sorry!’ His tone was stiff. ‘I thought I was speaking the truth.’

‘What does it matter whether you were speaking the truth or not? It’s his feelings that matter.’ She clicked her tongue against her teeth. ‘I feel real cross with you. Now go away!’ She shooed him with her hands and he had no option but to leave.

Mick walked out of the room. It was seldom his mother got angry with him and he felt a surge of emotion and an unmanly desire to burst into tears. It wasn’t his fault if the big fella couldn’t take the truth. He should have kept his promise and taken them to the pictures, even if it meant insisting that the women went too. He was really fed up and not at all in the mood for company.

He went upstairs and sat in the cold bedroom, contemplating leaving home as soon as he left school. He had thought of doing something to do with calligraphy. He wouldn’t mind drawing maps or signs for shops but how did he go about that? He supposed he could find out.

There came a tap on the door. ‘Who is it?’

‘Celia. Can I have a word?’

He was so relieved that it was not the big fella he sprang off the bed and opened the door. ‘One word or two or three?’ he said jocularly.

‘I wondered if this would help?’ She held out an envelope.

He stretched out a hand and took it and felt coins through the paper. He handed it back. ‘Thanks but no thanks. I can’t take your money. And you shouldn’t eavesdrop.’

‘Why can’t you take my money?’

‘I don’t take money from girls.’

‘You take it from your mother.’

‘That’s different. I earn it and I’ll pay it back the same way. Anyway what made you change your mind about working here?’

She leaned against the wall. ‘It’s only for two weeks and it beats going home.’

‘So you’re not permanent.’

‘I said I was only here for two weeks, didn’t I?’

He smiled. ‘So you did. So I’d best make good use of you. I’ll have a cup of tea and you can bring it up here.’ He closed the door and was aware of an unexpected sense of wellbeing. Perhaps Christmas wasn’t going to be so bad after all.

‘Wow-wee!’ exclaimed Ben, leaping off the bed and causing sweets, fruit, a jigsaw, a printing set and several toy soldiers to slide to the floor. He pranced around the tricycle wrapped in brown paper which stood on the linoleum before tearing off the paper and chanting, ‘A bike, a bike, I’ve got a bike!’

‘Shut up, Ben,’ groaned Mick but Teddy sat up and rubbed his eyes. ‘He has. He’s got a bike!’

‘What!’ Mick lifted drooping eyelids. He watched Ben a moment before exchanging looks with Teddy, who said in disgust. ‘Spoilt! He’s spoilt rotten. We never got a present anywhere near as good as that!’

‘You can have a go on it,’ said Ben generously. ‘As long as you don’t break it and get off when I tell you.’ He glanced anxiously at Teddy. ‘Aren’t you going to open your present?’

‘What present? Father Christmas doesn’t visit us,’ said Teddy.

‘There’s something on your bed!’

Teddy and Mick both peered through the grey morning light and saw that Ben was right. There were four parcels. One was long and narrow and lay alongside a small square one on Teddy’s side of the bed. The other two were rectangular and oblong and were on Mick’s side. They reached out and untied labels which read
Love Ma and Dad.
They pulled faces at each other and tore off green tissue paper. Teddy’s presents were a rod, reel and the rest of the paraphernalia needed to go fishing. Mick’s were a box of calligraphy pens, nibs, bottles of different coloured ink and a good quality drawing pad.

‘Damn!’ said Teddy savagely.

‘Ditto,’ said Mick, gently fingering a nib. ‘The big fella must have helped pay for these. Ma wouldn’t have had the money and she wouldn’t have known what to choose and where to go for them either.’

‘Yeah! We’ll have to bloody thank him.’ drawled Teddy.

‘You can send him a letter up the chimney,’ said Ben who had only caught part of the conversation.

Mick smiled but said nothing, only lying flat on his back with the box of pens clutched to his chest.

‘You’re a dope,’ said Teddy, grinning at Ben. ‘Father Christmas isn’t going to have time to collect a billion letters. He’ll be beddy-byes at the North Pole by now. Besides it’s Ma and the big fella who bought you the bike and us these things.’ He slid from beneath the covers and shivered as he stood on the cold linoleum. ‘Let’s see you ride it then.’

Ben did not need telling twice. He climbed onto the tricycle and ding-a-linged the bell before pushing the pedals with his bare feet. He narrowly avoiding crashing into a chest of drawers.

Teddy laughed. ‘Here let me have a go?’

‘Not yet,’ said Ben, straightening the handlebars.

‘I can show you how.’

‘No! It’s mine.’

Teddy seized the handlebars and Ben yelled, ‘Let go!’ and attempted to push his hand away.

‘Leave him alone, Ted, or you’ll have Ma and the big fella in,’ said Mick. ‘Play with your fishing rod.’

‘It’s not a toy.’ Teddy frowned but picked up the box with the reel in and began to read the instruction leaflet inside.

He had attached the reel to the rod and had almost finished threading line through the rod’s metal hoops when Kitty popped her head round the door. ‘Everybody happy?’ She brought in a pitcher of steaming water.

Ben climbed down from the tricycle and threw his arms round her waist. ‘Thanks, Ma!’ He pressed his head against her stomach. ‘It’s a beautiful bike.’

‘Careful! You don’t want to—’ She stopped abruptly and smoothed his ruffled hair before moving away to pour the water into the bowl in the washstand. She looked at her elder sons. ‘And what about you two? Are you happy?’

‘Yeah, fine,’ said Teddy. ‘Thanks, Ma.’ He waved the fishing rod, which wobbled at its narrow end.

‘And you, Mick?’

He flushed, ‘I never expected such a good present. You shouldn’t have spent so much money.’

‘But you’re pleased with it?’ she said anxiously.

‘Of course! I can’t wait to use them. Thanks, Ma.’

‘You won’t forget to thank—’

‘Dad,’ muttered Teddy.

She glanced at him. ‘Would it be so difficult to say?’

He was silent. Mick said, ‘Does he want us to call him Dad?’

‘I thought it would be nice,’ said Kitty, sitting sideways on the bed. ‘It would make us sound like a proper family.’

‘Couldn’t we call him Pops?’ asked Ben, climbing back on the tricycle. ‘A girl at school calls her dad Pops.’

‘But he’s not our dad,’ said Mick.

There was a silence and Kitty felt frustrated.

‘I’m going to call him Pops,’ said Ben and rode between the beds twice. ‘I’ll say “Thanks, Pops, for my bike”.’

‘You can! You’re younger,’ muttered Mick. ‘You don’t remember Dad the same as I do.’

There was another silence which was broken by the sound of footsteps. John knocked on the open door before entering.

‘Thanks, Pops, for my bike,’ said Ben, missing John’s toes by half an inch as he rode past him.

‘Yeah, thanks for the present,’ said Teddy, and his smile flashed briefly.

‘Thanks,’ said Mick, hugging his knees. ‘It’s – it’s just what I would have chosen myself – if I’d had the money.’

‘Glad you’re all happy.’ John slipped his hands in his trouser pockets and smiled. ‘Shall we all go down for breakfast? You’ve ten minutes to have a quick lick and get dressed. Hannah and your mother have been up for the last hour. Food’s ready and Nancy’s waiting.’

‘What about Celia?’ asked Mick.

‘I went with her late last night to her mother’s,’ said John. ‘She’ll be back tomorrow morning.’

‘So you don’t have to worry about her,’ said Kitty, although she was worried herself after what she’d seen and heard of the woman, but a girl owed a duty to her mother. ‘Now move yourselves or we’ll eat yours.’

‘One of my earliest memories before we went to Canada,’ said Nancy, spreading Tate and Lyle’s golden syrup on a slice of toast and smiling round at the family, ‘was of pushing a dolly’s pram along the front at Brighton after dinner on Christmas afternoon. It was before the war, of course, when women used to wear those huge hats with feathers and flowers, and skirts down to their ankles.’

‘Mother often used to take me into Brighton,’ said John. ‘And we always had to look at the Royal Pavilion. It was like something out of the
National Geographic
with its onion-shaped domes and ornamental plaster work. I never forgot what it looked like all my years away. I didn’t realise until I returned there that Mother was crazy about Prinny and anything Regency.’

‘Who’s Prinny?’ asked Kitty, enjoying this new insight into her husband’s past.

‘The Prince Regent, of course,’ said Nancy, signalling Hannah to fill her teacup.

‘King George IV to be,’ explained John. ‘Queen Victoria’s uncle. He spent a fortune on the Pavilion and was in debt for thousands of pounds. During the war part of it was used as a hospital for Indian soldiers. It had nine kitchens so it could cater for the tastes of the different castes.’

‘I didn’t know that!’ said Nancy.

‘Why should you?’ said John, glancing at Kitty and smiling before giving his attention once more to his niece. ‘You were a Canadian by then.’

Nancy sighed. ‘It seems a long time ago in some ways and yet in another it’s like yesterday. I must see the Pavilion when I visit your sister. I should also visit Great-Grandfather.’

‘It’s a long journey and you could be wasting your time,’ said John.

‘We’ll see.’ She dabbed at the corners of her mouth with a napkin. ‘Now where’s the nearest Presbyterian church? Can’t miss going on Christmas Day.’

The whole family went to church leaving a goose and a leg of pork flanked by potatoes and shallots sizzling in the ovens.

Hannah had been ordered to take the rest of the day off but she said she would be back to serve supper as she would have had enough of her family by then.

To Kitty’s relief the remainder of the day after dinner was restful. They talked about Christmases past over nuts and drinks. Ben rode his tricycle up and down the Mount whilst Teddy tried to get the hang of casting properly. Mick practised different lettering with his pens in a corner of the Smoking Room, which was fragrant with the scent of John’s cigar and the perfume of the women.

‘This time last year I never thought I’d spend Christmas Day like this,’ said Nancy as she mounted the stairs for bed. ‘I’ve really enjoyed it and I thank you for your hospitality from the bottom of my heart.’ She beamed round at them all.

‘You’re welcome,’ said Kitty, giving her a hug and hoping that Boxing Day would pass off as well as this day had done.

It was Hannah who opened the door to the O’Neills. Sarah stood on the doorstep alongside her brother David.

‘Hello, Hannah,’ said Sarah, removing her coat and untying her new cherry-red bonnet and handing them to the maid. ‘Do you like my new frock?’ She did a twirl and the buttercup-yellow, wool-linen skirts fanned out above her knees. She had slimmed down a little in the last months and her long dark hair had been cut in a more modern style so the ends curled about her neck and on her cheeks.

‘Thou’s getting more above thyself than ever,’ said Hannah, giving a sniff. ‘I don’t doubt that sooner or later thee’ll fall flat on thy face.’

Sarah pulled a face but on hearing Kitty’s and Mick’s voices she brushed past the maid and skipped to meet them.

‘You look pretty,’ said Kitty, a hand going to her belly as she thought dreamily of how she would dress her daughter when she was born.

‘I do, don’t I?’ Sarah chuckled and did another twirl with her eyes on Mick’s face. ‘What do you think?’

‘I think we should put you in a box and give you away as a Christmas present.’ He grinned.

She spluttered, ‘I don’t look like a doll! I’m too big. Siobhan’s like a doll. She has lace on her frock and knickers to match.’

‘You shouldn’t mention unmentionables in mixed company,’ said her brother coming up behind her. David O’Neill was dark and good-looking like his father and almost three years older than his sister.

‘You’ve mentioned them,’ said Sarah.

‘That’s different. I’m only correcting you.’

‘You two aren’t squabbling again!’ exclaimed Becky, coming up behind them. ‘How many times have I told you not to in company?’

‘It wasn’t really a squabble,’ said Kitty, smiling. She asked if they’d had a nice Christmas before ushering the whole family into the dining room where Kitty, Hannah and Celia had laid out a buffet.

John introduced Nancy to the O’Neills and it was not long before everyone was eating and drinking. Both maids had been asked to join them earlier and Celia did so, but Hannah departed to the kitchen with an ‘I know my place’.

Nancy’s gregarious nature made for conversation which was interesting and friendly and all joined in. There were a few difficult moments and they came when she asked Daniel what on earth the Free State of Ireland was thinking of leaving the British Commonwealth? Daniel spoke of real independence and of the Irish having been a race apart long before the Dark Ages. It was different with Canada, which was populated with people of mainly British descent. She saw his point but said it was a pity that they couldn’t all stay linked to each other like a family. John reminded them that the Scots were a race apart too, and that although part of the British Isles, some felt strongly about being independent from England.