The Journey (36 page)

In the church, she lit a candle to guide her child on his way to Heaven, and when the flame flickered and danced to life, she remained there for some long time, asking questions of the Lord. What had she done that was so wicked He had to take her baby? What would she do now without him? Why had the police not caught Frank Trent and brought him to a harsh punishment? And finally, would He please take care of Barney and the Davidson family on their long journey to a new life?

A short time later, spent of emotion, Lucy made her way back to the bus-stop. As she clambered on the bus, she caught sight of Barney. Emerging from a public-house and somewhat unsteady on his feet, he had a woman clinging to his arm.

Laughing together, they set off down the street and were soon gone.

Falling into her seat, Lucy was riveted with shock. She had recognized the woman as being a close friend and colleague of Bridget’s, and knowing the nature of her business, Lucy found it hard to understand what Barney was doing in her company. She suspected also, if his unsteady gait was anything to go by, that he had been drinking. That in itself was astonishing, because as far as Lucy knew, Barney enjoyed the occasional glass of something only when the occasion demanded.

Convincing herself that there must be an innocent explanation, she vowed to ask him next time they met.

On arriving home, she went into the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea. “Make one for me while you’re at it.” Bridget almost fell into the room. “I’ve been trudging round the shops for hours and I’ve got a throat like sandpaper.”

She threw down a heap of bags and sitting herself at the table, she told Lucy, “I’ve left the girls searching for new outfits. They’ve bagged a lucrative job for next week, escorting some London businessmen about town. Lord knows, if we’re to put the business on a more respectable footing, they’ll need to look their best.”

With her mind still on Barney and the woman, Lucy heard not a word. “Three sugars, isn’t it?” she asked, beginning to spoon it out of the bag.

“Best make it four,” the woman advised. “I’m shattered, so I am!”

When Lucy placed her cup and saucer before her, Bridget noticed how preoccupied she seemed. “What’s wrong wit’ you? You’ve got a face like a wet weekend.”

“Nothing.” Lucy sat down with her tea and took a sip of it.

“Aw now, don’t give me that.” The big Irishwoman wagged a finger. “I’ve known you long enough to spot when something is wrong, so out with it! What’s on your mind?”

Hesitating for a second or two, Lucy told her, “I’ve just seen Barney Davidson coming out of a pub, and he was drunk … or near as dammit.”

“I see.” Bridget raised her cup to her mouth and took a long slurp. “And ye are sure it was Barney ye saw?”

“I’m certain.”

Bridget peered at her over the rim of her cup. “Was he alone?”

“No. He was with a woman.” She hesitated to say it was one of Bridget’s friends.

“I see.”

When Bridget next spoke, it was to give Lucy a warning. “Don’t get mixed up in what you don’t understand,” she cautioned. “What Barney does or doesn’t do is none of our business.”

From Bridget’s reaction, Lucy suspected she knew more than she was saying. As the realization dawned, she confronted her. “You knew all about it, didn’t you?” she demanded. “You knew Barney was drinking and womanizing. Don’t deny it, because I can see it in your face!”

“All right, yes, I did. In fact, I’m told it’s been going on for some time, and now it seems he doesn’t give a bugger who sees him! But I didn’t think it was my place to tittle-tattle. If Barney Davidson has a problem, he’ll deal with it. Doesn’t he always?” Not wishing to be drawn into dangerous ground, Bridget quickly drank up her tea, took her shopping and went upstairs with it. “I’ll see youse later,” she called back.

Unable to get Barney out of her mind, Lucy vowed to visit the Davidsons that evening. “I’ve got to go and see him,” she muttered as she helped Tillie to peel the potatoes for dinner. “I need to ask him outright.” She knew him well enough to do that.

Barney had been preying on her mind a great deal of late; behaving strangely, going away for hours on his own, and now this. In the beginning, she had thought it might be the trauma of what had happened that night, but drinking in a public-house with such a woman; arm-in-arm in the street and laughing as if he didn’t give a damn who saw him … this was not the Barney she knew and loved. In the wake of Jamie’s death, her embarrassingly romantic feelings toward him had vanished; but now they had resurfaced and she couldn’t help it, but he was never out of her thoughts. It was getting to the stage where she was afraid to look Joanne in the eye, in case her friend read the truth on her face.

Later that evening, when dinner was over and the kitchen at 23, Viaduct Street was spick and span, Lucy put on her hat and coat and set off for Overhill Farm.

As she went up the path to the front door she heard raised voices and the sound of a door slamming. Suddenly, the front door was flung open and Susie came rushing out, straight into Lucy’s arms. “Oh Lucy! Ronnie and Daddy are saying bad things to each other, and they won’t stop …” She began to sob uncontrollably.

Lucy held her close. “Ssh, don’t worry, it’ll be all right,” but she could still hear the two men inside, and now Thomas’s voice, pleading with them to stop arguing. A moment later, the door opened and Joanne emerged, looking distraught as she searched for Susie. On seeing Lucy she was visibly relieved. “Oh, dear God, Lucy, I don’t know what to do. It’s like my whole world’s falling apart.”

Trembling and distressed, she took Susie by the shoulders. “Run inside, sweetheart, and fetch our coats.” Calming herself for the girl’s sake, she suggested with a shaky smile, “We’ll go for a little walk, eh, you, me and Lucy? When we come back, happen it’ll all have sorted itself out, eh?”

Relieved to see her mammy smiling and comforted by her words, Susie ran to get their coats. “What’s happening?” Lucy asked worriedly. “Is it Barney?” In her troubled mind she could still see him and the woman.

“Yes.” Joanne shook her head. “There’s something very wrong,” she said. “Barney’s been so odd of late—wandering off and not coming back till all hours. He’s not been sleeping easy, and sometimes when I wake in the middle of the night, I look out of the window and he’s pacing the yard like a trapped animal. He’s suddenly got the devil of a temper on him, too, snapping and snarling and jumping down our throats at the slightest thing; he even smacked Susie last night because she came downstairs crying after having a bad dream. It’s not like him, Lucy. He’s always been such a loving man.”

She took a long, weary breath. “And now, Ronnie swears he saw Barney in Liverpool today … ‘arm-in-arm with a trollop,’ he says, and he swears that the pair of ’em were drunk.”

With raw eyes she looked into Lucy’s face as though searching for some kind of reassurance. “I didn’t believe it of him, Lucy. ‘It couldn’t have been your father’ that’s what I told Ronnie. ‘He would never do such a thing.’” Her voice broke. “But to be honest, Lucy, somewhere in the back of my mind, God forgive me, because of the way Barney’s been behaving, I’m half-inclined to believe what Ronnie saw.”

When Susie returned and they had on their coats and scarves, the three of them wandered away to the spinney; these days they were reluctant to go near the river, because of the bad memories.

Lucy made no mention of the fact that, like Ronnie, she too had seen Barney on the streets drunk and laughing with a woman. Instead she told Joanne, “I’ve an idea Barney might still be suffering the effects of that night. It was a terrible thing for him to witness. Grief and shock can affect us all in different ways,” she said in a low voice. God knows, she herself was half-demented with it. “Maybe Barney is not able to deal with the horror of what happened?”

Joanne had already considered that. “Of course he suffers from remembering, as we all do.” She reached out to squeeze Lucy’s hand. “But it’s more than that,” she went on somberly. “Now I think about it, I’ve seen a few changes happening in Barney, long before that night. He’s been getting more preoccupied and distant, as though he’s always got something on his mind, and none of us are a part of it.”

She shrugged. “He’s been working so hard—pushing himself until he hurts. It’s as if he’s trying to prove something. He’s changed, Lucy, and now it’s got so I can hardly recognize him as the man I married.”

In spite of her determination not to let young Susie see her upset, Joanne began to cry, softly at first, and when she could no longer hold it back, the crying became wrenching sobs that tore her apart. “I’m sorry,” she kept saying. “I’m so, so sorry.” For the first time in her married life, she did not know how to deal with Barney.

Running to her, Susie threw her arms round Joanne’s waist; in a choked voice she told her, “Don’t cry, Mammy, it’s all right. Please don’t cry.” The normal roles were reversed, and Joanne was ashamed.

After a time they walked on; Lucy lost in her own thoughts, Joanne also quiet now, and Susie with her hand clutched in her mammy’s.

All three were thinking of Barney. Lucy was determined to get him alone and have a heart-to-heart with him; Joanne wondered how she could win back the man she loved; and her frightened daughter silently brooded over the night’s event, her heart alive with all manner of emotion—and shockingly, even the smallest beginnings of hatred toward the father she adored.

When they got back to the house, despite the cold, Ronnie was seated on the garden bench. With his head down and his hands over the back of his neck, he did not hear them approach.

“Ronnie?” Going immediately to him, Joanne put her arm around his shoulders. “What are you doing out here in the cold?”

Ronnie looked up. In the half-light from the windows she could see that he’d been crying. “What is it, love?” She sat beside him. “What’s happened?”

For a long anxious moment, Ronnie gave no answer. Instead he glanced back at the house, then he looked at his mother and the tears ran down his face. “That man in there,” he whispered brokenly. “I don’t even know who he is any more.”

Rising to Barney’s defense, Joanne told him firmly, “Whatever he says or does, and whatever you may think of him just now, he is still your father!”

Ronnie shook his head. “No, he’s not. I know my father like I know myself, and that man in there is a stranger.”

Joanne understood but was horrified all the same. “Your father is ill,” she said lamely. “He doesn’t seem to understand how he’s hurting us. Barney is a good man. He’s stood by all of us at one time or another, and now it’s our turn to stand by him.”

Scrambling to his feet, Ronnie looked down on her in amazement. “How can you say that?” he demanded. “I saw him with my own eyes! He was drunk in the street, in the company of a woman like
that
… They went away laughing—laughing at
you,
Mother! He’s not only cheating on you, but he’s doing it openly. He gets himself drunk and then he comes home arguing and causing trouble in the family.”

His voice shook with rage. “You can stand by him if you like, but I won’t! I can’t forgive him.”

Seeing her brother stride off angrily into the night, Susie wailed, “Stop him, Mammy. STOP HIM!”

Grabbing her close, Joanne held her tight. “I can’t,” she said, “but he’ll be back. You’ll see, sweetheart, Ronnie will be back.” In her heart though, she could not be certain of that.

“Do you want me to go?” Having witnessed the distress in this close-knit family, Lucy was afraid for them all, including Barney. She wanted to stay but sensed that Joanne needed to be alone with her family.

Joanne nodded. “I’m sorry, Lucy,” she apologized. “I’ll get Thomas to see you home.” Because the night was cold and because she had great affection for Lucy, she invited her to come inside first.

She led the way, with Susie at her side and Lucy following.

When she walked into the sitting room, Lucy was shocked at the sight of Barney. Unkempt and unshaven, he sat in the armchair, his shirt undone to the chest and his head lolling sideways. Lucy thought he looked ill and quietly said so to Joanne.

Thomas had been standing before the fire, his eyes alive with anger as he stared at his father. “He’s not ill.” He spat out the words. “He’s drunk!”

“I’ll deal with your father.” Taking hold of him by the arm, Joanne led him away. “I need you to take Lucy home in the trap.”

Thomas nodded. “Will you be all right?”

“I’ll be fine,” she answered with a smile. “Oh, and take Susie with you.” When the girl protested, she told her gently, “Lucy would like that, wouldn’t you, lass?”

Realizing Joanne’s intent, Lucy nodded. “Yes, I would.” Addressing Susie she told her, “I need to know all about the new clothes you and Mammy have bought for the journey to America.”

At Lucy’s remark, Thomas gave a grunt. “That’s if we ever go!”

Susie gave a cry. “We
are
going, aren’t we, Mammy?”

Joanne nodded. “That’s the plan, sweetheart.” Though her heart was breaking, she smiled her brightest. “In just over a week’s time we’ll be boarding the ship for America.” She gave Barney a sideways glance.
“All of us!”

On the way back to Viaduct Street, Thomas sat hunched on the driving seat, quiet and morose. He had only ever seen his father drunk once, and that was when his friend Arthur had brought back some strong homemade cider to mark his birthday. It was a memorable night, which ended in laughter and good humor. This time it was different. And in all his life, Thomas had never felt so helpless.