Dreams Can Come True (39 page)

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Authors: Vivienne Dockerty

BOOK: Dreams Can Come True
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Katie went pink at the compliment, then thought she was ready for fainting when Michael put out his arm.

“Shall we walk together to my grandmama’s? She is expecting us to take tea with her. She would like to thank you personally for the care that you gave to me.”

“But it was Sister Gill who looked after you in Isolation,” Katie replied feeling a little guilty. “Surely your grandma should be inviting her for tea.”

“Ah, but you were the one who helped me to full recovery and you are the one to be rewarded. I am sure my grandmama will have already written to Sister Gill to thank her for her part.”

A silence fell between them then as they walked the few yards to Seagull Cottage. Katie’s spirits plummeted when she realised why she was there. It wasn’t a date she was having with Michael. It was afternoon tea with a grateful patient’s grandma. Made a change from the flowers or biscuits or whatever her discharged patients usually gave. Oh well, she sighed, she’d make the best of it anyway. It was better than searching for her missing brother instead.

Alice was waiting in her doorway. Her face was a wreath of smiles as the couple came into view. The years had not been kind to Alice; her skin was wrinkled and she had put on a lot of weight. But her smile seemed really genuine as she shook Katie’s hand. She led the way to the dining room, where a man stood formally near where a table was laid for tea.

“Welcome, Staff Nurse Tibbs,” he said, and gestured her to a seat beside him. “A bit of a chill in the air today, isn’t there? Looks like Autumn is on it’s way.”

Katie nodded wondering who the person was. Michael had never mentioned a granddad before, so who on earth could this person be? She felt her knees shaking nervously as she sat down near the fireplace. She was feeling so self-conscious in front of everyone. What if she dropped a cake or scone or slopped her tea all over the place? An afternoon with strangers: it was the first time in her life!

“I’m sorry,” apologised Alice. “I haven’t introduced you to Mr. Arlington. He’s my husband, by the way. Take her jacket, will yer dear, she’ll be roasting hot in here. Michael, do you want to come and help me with the tea things? No, no Miss Tibbs, Michael can help me. You sit with Mr. Arlington by the fire and have a chat together. There’s not very much to carry, we won’t be very long.”

As soon as Alice got into the kitchen, she shut the door and gripped her grandson by the arm.

“She’s perfect, Michael, just perfect. Good child-bearing hips, of pleasant appearance, trained in nursing, she can look after me when I’m old. An asset to the family, Michael, just what you’re looking for. If you can get her to marry yer before that mother of yours comes back to Neston, there’s no doubt about it; everything will be yours.”

“But, Grandmama, do you think that this plan of yours will work? I don’t want to get saddled with just anybody if there’s a chance the plan won’t work.”

“We’ve been over all this, Michael, but I’ll tell yer again. You’ve still got three years left of your commission, so you need someone there in Selwyn Lodge to keep the place warm. Once you have a wife, you can go to a solicitor and tell them that you’re being denied access to the family home. You can say that Hannah isn’t even related to the owner, Maggie Haines, but you’re her legal son. If worst comes to worst they’ll get a policeman to eject them, then you can take up the strings again and claim what’s rightfully yours.”

“And how will I run the businesses from Chester?”

“Mr. Arlington will go back to help yer. He’s getting under my feet here and he needs something to do.”

Chapter 21

The front door of the hotel slammed shut from the force of the ferocious wind after Frank took the letters from the postman.

“One fer you, Maggie,” he cried, as he walked down the hallway to the dining room. “The rest are bills, Bridget. One from the butcher and one from Fred Ellery. He’ll be needing to come back again to fix the roofing. One of the slates has come off again.”

He sat himself down beside Maggie, who had just finished her breakfast of oatmeal and honey.

“Are yer not going to open your letter then?”

“Oh, it’s only from Hannah. I can tell by her writing. It’ll be something and nothing. I’ll read it later when I’ve helped Bridget finish in here. Then I need to go over to see Mr. Ellery, see how he’s coming along with the roof at the cottage. He won’t be down at Killala, will he, seeing as it’s blowing a gale?”

“Not if he’s sensible he won’t be, Maggie. I wouldn’t like to be on the headland in this weather, it could blow a fellow right into the sea. In fact I’m surprised yer even asked him to go ahead with everything. With winter coming, he’ll find it hard enough to find a day that won’t be blowing or lashing it down with rain. I’d have left it until next April, after Easter or early spring.”

“Yer know I want to be in the cottage as soon as the baby comes, Frank. It isn’t fair to you and Bridget. You’ve a living to make from your lodgers and they’ll not be happy with a crying baby keeping them awake at night. Besides, I lived down in Killala fer sixteen years and the weather didn’t harm me then. And that was in a tiny turf cabin, not a strongly-built cottage like that one is.”

“It was a bit of luck Frank finding out who was selling fer Mr. Dockerty, wasn’t it?” Bridget said as she brought them in a fresh pot of tea.

“Yeah, and I only got that from Fred when he was bringing around the slates. I didn’t know that the solicitor on Tebling Street sold property for other people. Still now we know, don’t we? Did yer ever meet Mr. Dockerty, Maggie, when yer worked at the farm?”

Maggie coloured slightly and played with the teacup in front of her.

“Only briefly,” she said, keeping her head down so she couldn’t meet Frank’s eyes. “I knew his mother better, Mrs. Dockerty. She was very good to me.”

“Well, I’m sure he’ll be pleased to hear that someone has bought his cottage. Does anyone know where he’s gone to? Did the solicitor say?”

“No, he just took the money order and got me to a sign a few forms. I suppose it wasn’t necessary to tell me where the owner lived. Bridget, leave those dishes; I’m still capable of clearing a table and washing up, yer know.”

Maggie heaved her bulk from the table, glad of the excuse to get away from Frank and his scrutiny. If the couple ever knew of her deceitfulness and falsehoods, they’d be chasing her down to Killala, blowing gales or not!

The two women worked companionably beside each other in the kitchen, Maggie washing the dishes in the stone sink by the window and Bridget drying them with a cloth.

“Are yer sure you want to go out in this, Maggie? From the way those trees over there are bending, you could be flying through the air!”

Maggie laughed at the picture her words had conjured.

“I don’t think so, Bridget, it would take two strong men to lift me at the moment. Besides, I need to know if Mr. Ellery has managed to find some matching stone fer the two new rooms he’s building me.”

“I’m sure he will have or he’d let yer know. Leave him to it, Maggie, that’s what you’re paying him to do.”

“I suppose yer right. I’ll stay in then. I’ll read the letter from Hannah then I’ll settle down to some sewing. I do miss my treadle, yer know, Bridget, sewing by hand is awful slow.”

“Why don’t yer go into the sitting room, Maggie? I’ve lit a fire in there and you can use the table if yer need to. Then in an hour or so I’ll bring yer in a cup of tea.”

Maggie read Hannah’s words in disbelief. Michael had come back from the Army? How had that occurred. What was he doing back in Neston? Why hadn’t Hannah written the reason for his return? Well, this must have put the cat amongst the pigeons. His stepsister married to the pot man from the village and living with their son in Selwyn Lodge!

Oh, why hadn’t she written a reply to Michael’s letter? His return would cause a magnitude of problems and from the sound of Hannah’s letter, it seemed it already had.

Maggie chewed on her lip, thinking back to the day when Michael had heard of his father’s infidelity. He had taken it very badly. It was one of the reasons he had insisted on taking a commission up. That and the fact that he had found out Hannah was illegitimate. One of Michael’s bad points was his failure to forgive.

She sat for a moment reminiscing with her hands resting on her distended stomach. This baby seemed much larger than when she was carrying her son. It kicked a lot and hurt her ribs, pressed on her bladder so that she’d wee herself. Had Michael been this much trouble? Had he turned somersaults in the womb and given his mother a fright? Sadly, she couldn’t remember. It had been twenty three years ago.

Bridget came in later to see Maggie staring ahead at a painting on the wall.

“I’ve always liked that painting, Maggie. Frank’s mother did it, yer know? Couldn’t read or write, but a dab hand at the artistry.”

“Sorry, Bridget, me mind was wandering. Yes, it’s a very pretty painting, isn’t it? Looks like she’s sat on the bridge over the River Brosna while she did it, ‘cos there’s the castle up on the hill.”

“I’ve brought yer some coffee, Maggie. Just to cheer yer up as we’re stuck in the house today. Did yer have good news in your letter from Hannah? Is she well? You said she was expecting near the same time as you.”

“Bridget, did I ever tell yer I had a son who was in the Army? No?” Her friend shook her head.

“Well, I have this son who is twenty three. I bought him an officer commission two years ago. He thought it would be exciting going off with his friends to see a bit of the world. I think he got caught up with the thrill of it all, then found he’d made a big mistake. He wrote to me about seven or eight months ago, asking me to buy him out. Unfortunately, I was so tied up with other things that I forgot to reply to him. Now Hannah has written to tell me that he’s come back home from India. I was just thinking that it will put the cat amongst the pigeons, ‘cos Hannah and him don’t get on.”

“So what is Hannah saying? Does she want yer to go back to England? She must know that you’ll not be in any fit state to do so.”

“That’s the problem, really, she’s not telling me very much, other than she and Eddie have found another place to live and will I do the necessary legalities from here, so Michael can take over the running of the firm? But I don’t want Michael to take over running Sheldon Property. I have a perfectly good man in Eddie. He made sure the houses were completed when he said they would be; he made sure the snagging lists were kept to the minimum; he oversaw the ganger’s work and drew their weekly wages. I couldn’t fault him as my manager, but Michael’s got a lot to learn. He must have been causing a lot of trouble already ‘cos Hannah says Eddie has found a place with its own quarry and quite a bit of land, so he’s going to set up a building yard. Though she does say he’ll carry on working fer Sheldon until after she’s had the baby. So where is Michael living? That’s what I’d like to know.”

Bridget poured their coffee from the silver pot, something else inherited from Frank’s dead mother. She passed Maggie a dainty china cup, then sat down beside her, trying her best to think of a way to reassure her worried friend.

Maggie suddenly slapped a hand to her forehead, making Bridget jump.

“That’s it! Alice! She’ll be in this somewhere. He’ll be living with her at Seagull Cottage, waiting for me to send them something official. Well, I won’t, Bridget. I’ll make them sweat. If Eddie’s willing to stay on at Sheldon, while I’m here waiting to have the baby, then so it shall be.”

Katie sat at her desk on Thornton Ward, thinking back to the previous Sunday with mixed feelings. It was strange how she’d been treated by the grandma and Mr. Arlington. It was if they were trying very hard to please her and she couldn’t for the life of her see the reason why. All she had done for them was nurse their sick grandson; something that she did every day for the patients in her care. Take for instance Peter Robertson, a young man brought in yesterday with gangrene in his foot. Would Mr. and Mrs. Robertson be inviting her around for Sunday tea in the future? She thought not, though maybe Peter wasn’t a good enough argument. The poor lad would probably die next week if the surgeon didn’t cut off his leg.

Then there was Michael’s behaviour towards her. He had treated her like a china doll, or at least someone who belonged to the gentry. Asking was she comfortable, would she like another scone? Helping her on with her jacket and walking her back to Annie’s house. She had thought that the afternoon had gone well, considering that they were virtual strangers. She’d relaxed a little when she was asked about her job and she had told them all of her hopes of becoming a nursing sister one day. The only thing that had brought a frown to Michael’s grandma’s face was when she had asked about Katie’s family. Something she’d said maybe, but there was a coolness in the room from then.

Never mind, Katie sighed, it had all been a new experience. To see how other people lived and to see inside their homes. And did it matter if his grandma had taken a dislike to her? Michael had said he’d write again and that’s what mattered, didn’t it?

After Michael had taken Katie back home, he walked slowly back to Seagull Cottage.

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