Dreams Can Come True (44 page)

So she was shocked when Hannah took the problem from her and smilingly gestured at the little ones.

“This one is Johnny, he’s my eldest and a little monster. Then the baby in the pram’ is Georgie and over here is Georgie’s twin. Her name is Rosemary.”

“Oh, they’re all little darlings, aren’t they? And Rosemary, what a pretty name. Well, I’d better let yer get on then. You must be so proud to be their granny.”

The woman smiled at them happily, then went back to the tea shack to get the biscuits that Maggie had said she would take with her.

“What was that all about, Hannah?” said Maggie tersely, as they walked up the hill to the village. “Did yer have to show me up like that? I could have explained meself, yer know.”

“Well yes, you could have, Mother, but what would you have said? I’m a mum again at forty two?”

“Women do have babies at my age, Hannah and I’ll have yer know I’m not forty two until August.”

“Yes and what if it was mentioned to someone who knows you? Hannah Dockerty’s mother has a baby too, you know!”

“You’ve an answer fer everything, you have. Pity yer couldn’t have thought of something better than leaving me to face all these problems you’ve created; then I could be hiding meself in Killala and not being such an embarrassment.”

“Natter natter. Natter natter,” Hannah covered her ears with her hands, pretending she couldn’t hear what Maggie said.

“Oh, you,” Maggie said laughing. “You never change, do yer? I remember that’s what yer used to do when you were just a child yerself.”

“Now here we are in Irby, Mother. To your right, you’ll see the Anchor Inn. Eddie’s been in there and he said they do a good drop of porter. To my left is Manor Farm, which has been on that site for nearly a hundred years. Over in the trees is the manor house. A black and white half-timbered dwelling that is now in use as a farmhouse. In the village is a blacksmith, a wheelwright, a shoemakers and a general store. How’s that, Mother? A potted version of what there is to see in Irby. In modulated tones, copied from Miss Buckley, my old teacher, when she showed us round the Chester walls!”

Maggie started to laugh again. Her spirits were beginning to lighten by the minute.

“I knew that expensive education would stand yer in good stead one day, Hannah.”

“So what do you think?”

“Think about what?”

“You know, me looking after Rosemary while you go and sort out this empire of yours?”

“Oh, I don’t know, Hannah, she’s my responsibility. Let me give it a few more days, then I’ll let yer know how I feel.”

It was drizzling with rain on the day that Maggie returned to Selwyn Lodge, having borrowed the carriage and horses from Eddie. With his mother in law’s encouragement, he was seeing a local inhabitant, who had applied for the position of quarry foreman. Her clothes were dripping as she stabled the horses, rubbed them down, gave them a bucket of feed, then let herself in by way of the conservatory.

The house was silent, other than a wooden clock ticking away on the mantelpiece. The kitchen range stared at her blankly as she took off her travelling coat and hung it over the wooden clothes maid that someone had left unfolded there. It was chilly and the place smelt damp. There was a kind of dreary sadness in the room, as if it knew it had been abandoned. Joan had gone, Olive had gone. Never to come back and work in her kitchen again.

Maggie shivered and started to make up the fire with what was left of the kindling. She checked there was coal in the scuttle; at least she was able to make herself a cup of tea. She wandered while the fire took hold in the range, checking windows and doors, taking stock of the furniture, opening curtains that someone had left closed. She nibbled on a piece of cheese that Hannah had wrapped in a cloth for her, along with a twist of tea and a half loaf of bread, waiting with impatience for the kettle to sing.

Her eyes met the hands of the clock; it was twenty five past two. She thought about her little girl and wondered what she had done. Was the child already missing her, knowing that the breasts that suckled her weren’t the one’s she’d got used to? Was she being lovingly cuddled or was Hannah too busy with Georgie, her little son?

Maggie cradled her head in her hands, trying not to let the tears start flowing. This was something she had to do; a sacrifice she felt was necessary. So sitting there moping wasn’t helping anyone. She made her drink, ate her food, then got changed into her finery.

“Good afternoon, can I help you?” Another new girl on the office desk, thought Maggie, as she entered the Sheldon rooms.

“I’m Maggie Haines, the owner of this place. Kindly tell the manager I would like a word.”

“Oh,” said the young woman in a startled tone.

“Do you want to see Mr. Clegg or Mr. Arlington, Mrs. Haines?”

“I think both of them will do, don’t you?”

“Would you like to go on up then, Mrs. Haines? Both are in the Loan Department, going through some papers there.”

“I’d like that, thank you.” Maggie walked quietly up the carpeted stairs.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Arlington, Richard,” Maggie said, as she opened the door of the office. Why should she knock anyway? The place belonged to her.

She could see the men had got a shock when they both spun around upon hearing her voice. They seemed to be having a serious conversation, standing by the filing cabinets at the far end of the room.

“Maggie!”

“Mrs. Haines!”

Both men spoke at the same time when they saw her. Both men came towards her, and both outstretched a hand.

It was Mr. Arlington who got to Maggie first, greeting her in a solicitous manner while inquiring of her health, pulling out a chair for her and asking how long she had been back.

“Richard, would you get Mrs. Haines a coffee? Two sugars wasn’t it, my dear? And Richard, would you bring me one as well?” Arlington was trying to put the young man in his place.

“Why, thank you, Mr. Arlington, and Richard, perhaps you would like to get yourself a coffee too. I have quite a lot to say, so I’ll wait until you come back.”

“Something amiss, dear lady?” Arlington asked, while they sat facing each other across the office desk, him trying to ascertain the reason for her visit before his protégé returned.

“And may I say that it looks as if your holiday has done you a power of good. You’ll be surprised to see me here as well as Mr. Clegg, won’t you? Did you know your son-in-law left him in the lurch and I felt it my duty to assist him?”

“I had heard, and that’s why I’m here today, Mr. Arlington. I need to sort out what’s happening and see what I can do.”

Mr. Arlington went quiet then and she observed him under lowered lashes, until the silence became uncomfortable and she began to fiddle with her hem. He tapped a foot and shifted about, then walked to a cabinet and then came back. In his hand he carried a paper wallet and placed it on the desk before her without an explanation of what was within.

“Ah, yer back then, Richard. Shall I be Mother or shall I let you pour?”

Richard smiled at her attempt to lighten the mood; perhaps now they could get back to normal again.

“Now then, Maggie, before we make a start I’d like to have a look at that file I’ve just placed before you. You will notice that your son in law has taken out a substantial loan without your permission. Mr. Clegg here did ask him for collateral, but he refused to give it. Am I to take it that Eddie Dockerty is a thief?”

“Strong words, Mr. Arlington,” replied Maggie, as in the background she heard Richard gasp at the man’s affront. He would have adopted a more subtle approach if the matter had been left to him.

“In fact I gave him my authorisation, but it was held up, as I remember, in the post.”

“Oh.” Arlington looked rather agitated. “I wish I’d known that earlier; we were thinking of taking court proceedings against the man.”

“In whose name, Mr. Arlington? Mine or Sheldon’s? Surely yer didn’t think that I’d be suing one of me own?”

“I don’t know what to think,” he began, looking helplessly at Richard. “It was your mother in law who suggested that I oversee the business until such time your son returned.”

“Ah, Michael. I wondered when we would get on to him. Have I missed something? When was my funeral? Did yer send me a floral wreath? Was there a mention of it in the Chester broadsheet? Because I seemed to have missed it all, yer know.”

“Oh, come now, Maggie, you can see our point of view. Michael had come home from India and you had disappeared off the face of the earth. It was natural that his grandmama would want him to be restored to his rightful place as your inheritor.”

“This company was doing fine under the stewardship of my son in law. As far as I’m aware, Richard was running the Loan Department just as well. Because of your wife’s interference, Mr. Arlington, I have lost a very good Works Manager and the company of my family in our home at Selwyn Lodge. I am reliably informed that Michael still has three years to do in his regiment. What am I to do meantime, run the place meself?”

“Well, yes. If you’re not requiring my help and from the tone of your voice it seems you won’t be wanting me to, it appears you will have to run Sheldon, until such times that your son is able to take over. But remember, my dear lady, that you are running your business in a man’s world. Men don’t take kindly to women proprietors, as you already know.”

“Yes, you’ve always made that very clear, a woman’s place is in the home. But what do
you
say about it, Richard? Are you still willing to work for me?”

The young man nodded and smiled at Maggie gratefully.

“Good, I’m glad to hear that, because now I’m going to tell yer of me plan. I’ve decided to sell Sheldon, both the loans and the property. You may look alarmed, Mr. Arlington, but it’s a decision that I’ll not be thwarted from.”

“But my dear… Surely this needs some thinking through? What about Michael? Alice will be so angry…”

“Good day, Mr. Arlington, and thank you fer what you’ve done.”

Maggie sat on the sofa in the drawing room later, still trembling a little from her “run in” with Mr. Arlington. She sipped at a warming brandy while she thought on what Mr. Arlington would call “her audacity”. Well, she’d seen him off, hadn’t she? No more interference; no more snide remarks from Alice. Once she had sold the business she could do just as she pleased. She thought for a moment of Rosemary. Soon, she’d be able to claim her back and take her to their cottage in Killala. Though she’d miss the view of the Welsh hills from her bedroom window; it was little enough sacrifice to be with her child.

The place was warm now and the boiler hot, so after checking on the horses, Maggie soaked herself for a while in a scented bath. There was thinking to do and plans to make. An early night would see her right.

The first shafts of sunlight poked their way through the chink in Maggie’s bedroom curtains next morning. She awoke slowly, surprisingly refreshed in her mind, considering all the thoughts that had been churning around her head the night before. It was time to put her plans into action. First she’d feed the horses, visit the butcher and grocer, then catch the midday train to Chester to see her solicitor. She wandered into the bathroom wearing her morning gown, then heard the postman knocking on the front door. The knocking grew louder; more impatient. So annoyed was Maggie that she ran in anger down the stairs. She would tell that Alec to stop his noise in no uncertain terms!

“What do yer thinking you’re doing, Alec?” she shouted through the door, as she fumbled with the locks and bolts and cursed as she scraped her hand. But it wasn’t the postman standing there; it was an entirely different man.

“Johnny!” Maggie gaped. He’d come back again after all this time. There he was on her doorstep, looking haggard, wild and bleary-eyed.

“I’ve come to see me daughter, Maggie.”

“How did yer get to know?”

“From Fred Ellery, then the Heaney’s… I heard from the solicitor that you had bought my house. Maggie, why didn’t you tell me? Why give birth to our baby without the slightest hint?”

She opened the front door wider, feeling her spirits rising as she looked upon his face.

“I’ve got a lot to tell yer, Johnny. I think you’d best come in.”