The Girl From Seaforth Sands (43 page)

The rebuke, though thoroughly deserved, brought the hot colour flooding to Amy’s cheeks. She clutched the necklace, crumpling it into the palm of
her hand, suddenly wanting to hurl it in Paddy’s face and walk out of the cottage for ever, never to return. It was all his fault! He had made her look a mean, ungracious beast, which was no doubt what he had intended. She had been right to hate him, he had always been against her and now he meant to turn the rest of the family against her, too. However, unless she kept her thoughts to herself she would ruin Christmas Day for everyone and she did not intend to do that. Slowly she released the necklace from a grip so tight that the gold chain had scored deep into the palm of her left hand. She glanced around the ring of faces; everyone except Paddy was staring at her with an expression of mixed shock and disappointment. Poor Minnie, who knew nothing of Amy’s past suffering at Paddy’s hands, was clearly horrified by her friend’s strange and ungracious behaviour. It occurred suddenly to Amy that Minnie might not know that she and Paddy were stepbrother and stepsister; certainly, she would be completely ignorant of their childhood antagonism.

Slowly and fumblingly, Amy put the necklace round her throat and tried to fasten the little gold clasp, but it was tiny and she could not quite manage it. For a moment she continued to struggle then looked across at Paddy. He was staring straight at her, round dark eyes eager, his mouth opening to form words. ‘Can I . . . shall I . . . ?’

‘Yes, please, Paddy, if you would be so kind,’ Amy said, trying to make her voice sound friendly. ‘I’m sorry I was so rude . . . I didn’t think . . . I didn’t realise . . . it’s just that it’s so beautiful and must have been such a price . . . would you do it up for me, please.’

She bent her head forward meekly and felt
Paddy’s fingers against the nape of her neck. She was aware, as his fingers touched her skin, of a strange sensation in the pit of her stomach and knew, irritatingly, that she was blushing. Looking round beneath her long lashes, she saw the relief which swept like a tide across the faces, watched smiles come back as people turned towards one another and began to talk. The tension, which had been almost visible, had drained away and everyone was at ease once more. Except for me, Amy thought bitterly. I’m the only one who knows, bleedin’ Paddy never does anything, except for his own ends. Well, I’ll have to wear the necklace for today, but first thing tomorrow . . . no, the next day, we’ll still be here tomorrow . . . I’ll hand it to the first beggar I see.

The rest of the day passed very pleasantly. Amy and Minnie made an excuse in the afternoon to go out, and because Amy was well aware that no shops would be open for miles around she took Minnie round to Ruthie’s house. Her friend was delighted to see them and asked them in, but went into a fit of the giggles when Amy explained her errand. ‘Paddy Keagan gave you that beautiful necklace?’ she gasped. ‘And you come round here so as I can hand back the bag of bull’s-eyes you give me for me little brothers and sisters? You’ve gorra be mad, chuck, they were ate afore breakfast. Still an’ all, you’re welcome to a box of chocolates what were give me – there’s only two been took out.’

Despite herself, Amy giggled. ‘No, but there must be
something
I can give him,’ she said desperately, glancing around the room as though she expected a row of gift-wrapped parcels on every surface. ‘Did
anyone give your dad pipe tobacco? Or . . . or thick woollen socks?’

Ruthie’s dad, a large, red-faced man with a shock of grey hair, was sitting by the fire, toasting a round of bread, but he turned at Amy’s words, grinning broadly. ‘Why not give him a lock of your ’air, chuck?’ he said. ‘Or what about a pair of your frilly drawers? Reckon he’d value them!’

‘Don’t be so vulgar, our dad,’ Ruthie said reprovingly, though she was still smiling. ‘Don’t you think it looks kind o’ worse to give him a last-minute gift, like? He’s bound to guess you didn’t buy him nothin’ – and why should you? He’s never given you anything but hard words, as I recall.’

This downright partisanship made Amy feel a good deal better, though she voiced her earlier thought to the assembled company that, once back in Liverpool, she would give the bleedin’ necklace to the first beggar she saw.

She also agreed with both girls – for Minnie had backed Ruthie up – that perhaps it was best to accept Paddy’s gift gracefully for the time being and not try to return it. ‘But I’ll knit him a perishin’ muffler, so’s he can wrap it round his perishin’ gob or tie it round his perishin’ throttle,’ she said crossly as she and Minnie made their way back to the house in Seafield Grove. ‘If it’s around his gob, p’raps he won’t speak to me, and if he ties it tight enough . . .’

‘You are a horrible person, Amy Logan,’ Minnie said, but she was smiling. ‘Can’t you see the feller likes you?’

Amy snorted. ‘Like fun he does!’ she said scornfully. ‘He just wanted to show me up and he certainly did that.’

During the walk home, however, Minnie made her
point a little more forcibly. ‘You want to use your eyes, queen,’ she said earnestly. ‘You should have seen the look on Paddy’s face while you were unwrapping his present. He looked like little kids look on Christmas Day – all lit-up and excited, as though they expect something wonderful to happen. He bought that necklace to please you – it must have cost him a deal of money – and instead of throwing your arms round his neck and givin’ him a big kiss, you looked like someone who’s bit into a cream bun and found the cream’s gone sour on you.’

‘I didn’t,’ Amy said, half laughing, half horrified. ‘I thought I’d put on a jolly good act . . . but Minnie, he’s never liked me I tell you. I can’t understand why he bought the necklace in the first place, unless he meant it for some other girl who’s been and gone and let him down.’

‘Amy Logan, you’re an ungrateful girl and don’t deserve to have any beaux at all,’ Minnie said roundly. ‘Why do you think he bought jade, eh? It’s ’cos you’ve got green eyes, that’s why! Now how many girls around here do you know with green eyes?’

‘I don’t know any, but Paddy may know a dozen for all I know,’ Amy pointed out. ‘Oh, do leave off, Minnie, because even if Paddy can change his feelings overnight, I don’t know that I can. Now, let’s talk about something else if you please.’

But though Minnie’s efforts at matchmaking appeared to be unsuccessful, they had made Amy think and by the time they reached Seafield Grove she was beginning to admit to herself that she could have been wrong. Paddy could have bought the necklace especially for her and it could be the first sign of a thaw in their previously frosty relationship.
Feeling strangely light-hearted at the thought, Amy ushered her friend into the warmth and brightness of the kitchen, and began to help Suzie to prepare the meal.

When they had finished tea and washed up, the furniture was pushed back and the kitchen table was carried into the scullery to give more room. The house had been converted, at Bill’s request, by their landlord many years earlier. They had knocked down a wall, losing the parlour but gaining a double-sized kitchen, which the family much preferred. Albert had gone up to Ruth’s to spend the evening with the Durrants but neighbours from the surrounding houses came in and a great many games were played in the Logans’ large kitchen. Blind Man’s Buff, charades, and Oranges and Lemons all proved great favourites, and when they were exhausted and seated themselves around the room on chairs, cushions and even upturned fishboxes, Paddy produced his mouth organ and played carols and popular songs – ‘
I’m Twenty-one Today
’ and various other hits. When he struck up ‘
Has Anybody Here Seen Kelly
’, Minnie jumped to her feet, grabbed Amy’s hands and, whirling into the centre of the room, began a spirited polka. They were speedily followed on to the floor by other couples; Bill leading Becky round with great verve, while Gus danced with Suzie. In fact, they might have danced all night, had it not been for Paddy running out of breath and insisting that someone else should take over. Gus, who was quite good on the penny whistle, started to try to play the mouth organ, but threw it back to Paddy complaining that it was full of spit, which made everyone laugh.

Jim Price, from next door but one, nipped home for a moment and came back, carrying a fiddle. He began to play ‘
Shine on Harvest Moon
’ and Lottie melted into Charlie’s arms and immediately began to dance, speedily followed by most of the younger members of the assembled company. Amy was about to suggest that she and Minnie should take to the floor when Gus unceremoniously seized both Minnie’s hands and pulled her into the dance. Minnie was a tall girl, of Junoesque build, and now it occurred to Amy what a nice couple she and Gus made, with Gus’s fair hair only overtopping Minnie’s gleaming dark locks by a couple of inches.

She was still standing on the sidelines, laughing and clapping in time to the music, when someone caught her hands. ‘Dance?’ Paddy asked gruffly.

For a moment Amy felt all the old familiar irritation rising up in her; then she remembered the necklace. Damn, damn, damn, she thought furiously, allowing him to lead her on to the floor. I can’t very well refuse to dance with him, having accepted his present. Oh, why did it have to happen? Why didn’t I buy him something really small and mean, then I wouldn’t have to feel beholden?

Jim Price was revealing a rare talent with the fiddle, playing the beautiful music so softly and seductively that Amy, who had intended to dance as stiffly as any poker, found herself relaxing into Paddy’s embrace, following his lead as though they had danced with one another all their lives and almost – only almost – she found she was enjoying herself. When Jim Price slid into another tune, which she recognised, though could not immediately put a name to, she made no effort to free herself from Paddy’s arms but continued to dance. Paddy held her lightly but firmly, his head a little bent, and
though she kept her eyes averted from his she knew that he was looking at her face. Presently, almost absent-mindedly, he began to sing along to the music, in a soft, but rather pleasant tenor voice. ‘
I wonder who’s kissing her now?’
he sang,
‘I wonder who’s teaching her how? I wonder who’s looking into her eyes, sighing sighs, telling lies? I wonder if she has a boy? That girl who once filled me with joy. I wonder if she ever tells him of me? I wonder who’s kissing her now
.’

As the tune ended, Amy tried to pull herself away from Paddy, suddenly aware of a rush of the strangest feelings; sensations so strange that they made her want to stay where she was within the circle of his arm. It’s just the music, she told herself wildly, and the fact that he’s a feller and dances better than anyone else I know. I still hate him, I do, I do! Only it’s Christmas and the necklace is beautiful, and he’s got a lovely singing voice and . . . and . . .

Jimmy Price was beginning to play again; this time Amy recognised it at once as ‘
Alexander’s Ragtime Band
’. Paddy tried to continue holding her, one arm firmly round her waist, his left hand grasping Amy’s right, but she pulled away, saying half jokingly, ‘I mustn’t be selfish, Paddy; give someone else a chance – why not have a whirl with Jimmy’s sister Hettie for a change?’

Paddy said nothing, but he released Amy, who scuttled across the floor and into the scullery, where Suzie was setting out cups and plates, and putting round mince pies and slices of cold pudding. ‘Let me give you a hand,’ Amy said rather breathlessly, going over to the draining board where a number of cups stood ready for filling. She pressed her hands to her hot face, pushing damp locks of hair off her
brow. ‘Gracious, it’s warm in here! We ought to open the back door, let some air in.’

‘Oh, folk will be goin’ home soon,’ Suzie said easily. She hefted an enormous tin teapot, which one of the guests had lent them, and began to pour tea into the waiting cups. ‘Your pal Minnie is gerrin’ on awful well with our Gus. It’s about time that young feller found hisself another girl, though he’s been shy of trying his hand ever since that horrible Peggy Higgins behaved so badly last summer.’ She turned to refill the teapot and gave Amy a shrewd glance. ‘Saw you dancin’ with our Paddy just now,’ she observed, her eyes flicking all over Amy’s flushed face. ‘Enjoy it, didja? He’s a good dancer, is our Paddy, got natural rhythm like his mam. You made a fine couple, danced as if you’d knowed each other all your lives.’ She guffawed, clapping a hand to her mouth. ‘Wharra fool I am – you
have
known each other all your lives, of course. You could ha’ been brother and sister – you certainly fought like cat and dog when you was younger.’ Eyes suddenly sly, she glanced across at Amy under her lashes. ‘There weren’t never no love lost atwixt the pair of you, so it seems strange to see you dancin’ together.’

Amy, putting the filled cups and saucers on to a battered tin tray, ignored the remark. Indeed, her own feelings were far too complex and confused for her to want to discuss Paddy with anyone, let alone his mother. And presently, when the guests had eaten their cold supper and were beginning to depart, Amy picked Becky up from the chair in which she was slumbering and set off for the stairs, observing to Minnie that it was high time they were all in bed.

She had only reached the second stair, however, when Paddy caught her arm. ‘Aren’t you going to say goodnight to your dancin’ partner?’ he said, his voice teasing but his eyes serious. ‘I can’t offer to walk you home like I would after an ordinary dance, but I’ll carry Becky for you if you like.’

‘It’s all right, thanks,’ Amy said rather breathlessly. She told herself it was the weight of the child which was affecting her breathing, but had a shrewd suspicion that Paddy’s nearness and the hand on her wrist also had something to do with it. ‘If you take her she’ll wake and start grizzling, but thanks all the same, Paddy.’

Paddy grinned at her and rumpled her curls with one large hand, then slid the hand down under her chin, tilting her face up to his. Amy’s heart began to pound as his face got nearer, but then a voice spoke from behind them. ‘Gerrup them stairs, you daft girl, ’cos if I doesn’t get to bed soon I’ll sleep the clock round. If you’re goin’ up, Paddy, then pass the girl. Carting that great Becky, she’ll be slow as a snail and I want me bed.’