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But now what? Was he free of her? Yes ... and no. Free of her as she was now, and as he knew her character to be, but not free of the girl who had aroused his love when he was but a boy and fostered it into his manhood.

Now there was the future; it was stretching ahead, his to do what he liked with ... Oh God in heaven --he sounded to himself like Maggie Ann--did you ever hear such damned nonsense? Free to do what he liked with, and seven children there to bring up. Was that going to be his future?

But were they his responsibility?

Yes. Yes, they were; they were his half-brothers and sisters. To all intents and purposes, Moira was his mother. And there was one thing Frances had been right about: should he ever come across any one he could marry, how could he ask her to share that house and that ready-made family, the eldest but ten and the youngest not yet three? Surely, any right-thinking girl would want a family of her own, as he himself would. And 393 what would the place be like then? A menagerie.

`You would pass a friend without saying, "Top o' the mornin' to you"? Now would you?`

Òh, hello, Mr Farringdon. I'm sorry, I was miles away.`

`Yes, you looked it. How did you think me Irish sounded?`

`Dreadful.`

Òh! and I myself thought it was perfect. Where are you off to?`

Ì was making for the stables to pick up the cart.`

`Well, I'm at a loose end. My wife and daughter just said to me, "Get on with it. Pass the time any way you like, only leave us alone." They've gone shopping, so I was making for The Crown.` He pointed to the hotel. `Come and keep me company for five minutes.`

`Be glad to, sir. Be glad to.À few minutes later, seated in a corner of the saloon, Tom Farringdon said, `Well, how are things going?

But need I ask? It's a bad time all round.`

`Yes, it is, sir, it is.`

`The only good thing is that rain's bound to come soon. Taking the law of averages and past years into account, it should start early in October. But then, what do we get? Floods. It's an awful country for weather ... What're you drinking?`

Ì'll have a light ale.`

Ì think I'll have the same; it'll be cool; at least, I hope so.Àfter they had been served with the beer and Daniel had drunk half of his, Mr Farringdon pushed his emptied glass to one side and, leaning towards Daniel, he said, Ì've been wanting to say this to you for some time, Daniel, but I never seem to see you. Of course, you never have time to come across, I understand that. I get all my news of you from Janie, and she doesn't see you so often now that she's teaching. It's a damn silly thing to do. She's got no need to bother teaching. That's your sister's influence.

Did you know that?`

`Yes, I suppose so; but I think Janie wanted an occupation; she's got a very strong mind of her own.`

`You don't have to tell me that, Daniel. Oh dear me! she worries me, that girl.`

`Worries you? Why?` 395

`Well ... I mean, what's going to become of her?`

Òh, I think she'll work out her own destiny; she'll never do anything she doesn't want to do. She won't be influenced.`

Àgain, I must say you're right in your summing up of her character. Anyway, it wasn't her I wanted to talk about, but you. Now, I don't want you to be offended but, and I've meant to say this to you for some time, is there any way I can be of use? You can have a loan of as much as you need, interest free, at any time.`

Daniel looked down into his glass, nipped his bottom lip tightly then drew the air sharply up into his nostrils before he said, `Thank you. Thank you very much, Mr Farringdon.` He had not raised his head, but was still looking down into the beer as he went on, `You're the first one to offer me a helping hand.

Moira saved the farm when my father died. She had some money from her daughter and I had made her put it into the bank because I felt she would need it herself some day. But, as she said, it was in the family.` He now raised his head and looked

into the round, intelligent eyes set in the clean-shaven face that was topped by thick, greying hair, and he said, Ì can manage for a time. If I can get over the winter without any more mishaps and hang on to the cattle and the land, I'll pull through. If I feel I can't, I'll come to you, sir. But whether I do or not I'll always remember your offer. It means a lot to me at this moment, for to tell you the truth I'm feeling at a low ebb in all ways.`

Tom Farringdon did not comment on this confidence, but he sat back in his chair, called the waiter and asked him to refill the glasses, and not until this was done did he say, `There'll come a time, likely early next year, when I'll be away ... well, when we'll all be away. I'm trying to persuade Janie to come with us.

I'm going to do some business in Italy and then go on to Spain, which will cover two or three months. But should you need help during that period, then just go to my solicitor and he'll have my instructions to let you have what you want.`

Daniel put his hand to his brow, then ran it through his hair and his voice was a little above a murmur when at last he spoke: Ìt's odd,

you know, sir; one minute you feel there's 397 nothing but blackness staring you in the face, and you can't see what's to become of your life. Mine appeared to be working on that farm, and for years ahead dragging out a living for Moira and the children. And you stop me in the street and invite me in for a drink, then you sit there and you hold out a lifeline, even arrange for it to be there for me to clutch at when you're abroad. I ... I can't believe it. But I'll say this, I feel it's started to rain.Àt this Tom Farringdon gave a bellow of a laugh saying, `Well, I only hope that by this time next year you find yourself wet through. Now, I must finish this beer and go and look for those women.Às they rose from the table Daniel said, `When do you expect to go, sir?`

Òh, it hasn't been fixed yet. It could be in February; somewhere around that time. My main job will be to get Janie to give up the teaching. But`--he turned his head to the side--Ì want to get her away to see the world. Although she's travelled quite a bit, I want her to meet people and to stop her moping.`

`Janie moping? I could never imagine

Janie moping; she's always so lively. She bucks up everyone in the house when she comes. I have few friends, you know, Mr Farringdon, but I consider her my best friend. She has been that to me; if she had been a man she couldn't have been a better friend.`

Tom Farringdon turned and looked at Daniel; not only looked at him but stared hard into his face, then he nodded and said, `Yes. Yes, it's good to have a friend ... man or woman. Well, now, I must be off.

But look, you'd always be very welcome at home, you know.`

`Thank you, sir, I'll try to visit. And ... and thank you for everything.`

`No need. No need.Ònce outside the hotel they went their separate ways, with Daniel now feeling not a little puzzled. Janie's father wanted to take her away so she could meet other people, and all because she moped. That wasn't Janie, not the Janie he knew, not the Janie Pattie and John knew. And she'd be away for months.

He was still thinking about this when he climbed on to the farm cart and said, `Gee up! therè; but before he reached home he was thinking he had found the reason

for Mr Farringdon's wanting to take his 399 daughter abroad and for her to mix with other people: he was hoping that she would meet someone and be married. Yes, that was it, that was the reason.

He couldn't imagine what it would be like to know that Janie was married. But she was worth a good man, and in her father's set it would likely be a rich man too, or somebody comfortably off. And then it would be goodbye to his one friend, the friend who popped in now and again and who always brought a lightness with her; a friend he could talk to as he couldn't talk to Moira; because Moira didn't trouble herself with books or with the doings of the day. Moira found all the interest she needed to fill her life in her family.

He was back to where he was when he was walking along the street in Fellburn prior to meeting Mr Farringdon: the future was Moira and the children, and the striving for daily bread.

3

Daniel's striving for daily bread did not lessen all through the weeks of autumn, and before long it was Christmas week again. The dry

summer, as he had prophesied, finally gave way to flooding rain. Where, before, the land had been parched, the wells dry, the cattle dying, now the flooded rivers flowed over the land, and many of the cattle drowned.

The sky this morning was low and seemed to leave little space between the heavens and the earth, and Moira remarked she had smelt snow in the wind.

He himself had smelt the snow in the wind as he came back from the farm. He had been down there since six this morning. He had found the men already there and in a cheery mood, which irritated him, and he had asked himself if they would be so cheery in the New Year when he had to stand one of them off.

It would have to be Barney, and he would have to give him a pension, which couldn't be less than three shillings a week. But, this being Christmas week, they were all looking forward to the extra shilling in their pay packets, together with a piglet either to kill or to add to the one or two they would have in their own stints. And then there were the wives. Last year Moira had revived a custom that had died with his mother, that of giving some little present to the wives. His mother had always made up parcels of tea and sugar and some sweetmeats, especially if there were children.

So he had asked Moira if she would 401 knit them some little thing, such as a tea cosy or mittens or, better still, give them a present of one of her fruit loaves. And this she had done. So altogether there was an air of expectancy down at the farm.

But there was no expectancy for him as he sat in the study going through his ledger. He had just closed it with an impatient bang and was about to rise from the chair when he heard a commotion in the passage outside, then Moira's voice calling, `Daniel! Daniel!`

He stood up as she came into the room. She was clutching a large envelope to her breast and her face looked brighter than he had seen it for a long time.

`What news! What news! I ... I must sit down.`

À letter from Melissa?`

`Who else? Who else, Daniel? Who else? And what a message.` She now opened the envelope, and extracted first what looked like a photograph, next a letter, and then an oblong piece of paper, before she said, `Look at that!`

He took the photograph from her. It showed a long low house, part of it covered with creeper, a pathway edged with flower-beds leading to a front door, and to the left what appeared to be a wooden summerhouse.

Ìsn't it beautiful?`

`Yes, it's a bonny place, but, why--?`

`They've bought it; at least, Melissa's husband has.`

`Where is it?`

Ìn Ireland, of course.`

Òh, in Ireland. But why? Are they going to live there?`

`Just for holidays, she says in this letter.` She now handed him the letter and he read: My dear Mother,

You will no doubt be surprised to learn that we have bought a holiday home in your old country. Jacques fell in love with the place as soon as he saw it. It is a lovely old house with ten rooms and a maze of outbuildings.

There is not much land attached--only twenty acres. The people who sold it to us would not let it go unless we also took their stock. It is 403 a very small stock, consisting of only two cows, a dozen sheep, hens, ducks and geese. It is in the care of a Mr Rafferty, who worked for the previous owners.

Now what I want to suggest is that you and the children come for a holiday. You may make it as soon as you like. I'm sure you will love it and it will do you so much good. As for the children, I think it will be a delight for them, as there is a stream running through the land.

I'm sure, too, that Daniel will wish you to take advantage of a holiday. Do write and tell me that you will come soon, for it seems a shame to leave the place empty for long. The enclosed cheque is for you to spend on the children for Christmas presents and on yourself, of course. Please believe me when I send you my affection.

Your daughter,

Melissa.

P.S. All arrangements will be made for your travel. Just write to the above address and tell me when you would like to come.

He folded up the letter and handed it back

to Moira, who said, `Well, what have you got to say?`

He gave a littlèHuh!òf a laugh before he said, Ìt's wonderful. And just think how the squad will enjoy themselves. As for that stream, I can see them in it now; they'll be swimming like ducks.`

Moira's face was unsmiling as she said, `You're not really happy about it.`

Òf course I am, my dear, of course I am, but I can't deny that I'm going to miss you all. What would you think if I told you to get yourself away now. Oh, Moirà--he leaned forward and caught her hands--Ì'm delighted for you, and that she is so kind to you, because, you know, under the circumstances it could have been very different. But of course, she's all you under the skin.`

`Yes, under the skin, but very polished on top of it. But oh, I am so proud of her! And look at that.` She held out the cheque. Ànother fifty pounds. Her husband's money must grow on trees. But I'll say one thing for him, he plucks it off and gives it to others. And that is a rare thing, especially with them that have money. Anyway`--she smiled broadly--`we're

going to have a real fine Christmas. And the 405 coming New Year augurs good all round. What d'you think?`

His mind jumped for the moment back to the ledger in the study, but he smiled back at her, saying, `You know what, Moira, you know what I have a good mind to do during this holiday time?`

`No; what, Daniel? What have you a good mind to do?`

`Get stinking drunk, really mortallious, so much so that I'd have to be helped upstairs and put to bed.`

`Do that, do that, Daniel, but don't expect to be helped upstairs and put to bed, at least not by me, because if I saw you the worse for drink, you know what I would do?`

`No; what would you do?`