the maltese angel (36 page)

He looked at her in amazement, the while thinking that there were

things about people you never guessed at. Annie, this motherly-looking woman who had spent her life on a farm was afraid of birth. And now she even shocked him by saying, "And in this case. God knows what to expect. It could be a monstrosity, and I wouldn't bear look on it. I just couldn't," and she looked up at Carl again, her expression seeming to plead for understanding; but he could say nothing except, "I'd better go up and tell them."

She nodded at him, then returned to her task of cutting up the sheet.

On reaching the landing, he was surprised to find the master standing there. He seemed to have been leaning against the wall; but now he was facing Carl.

"Well?"

"He won't come. In any case he would have been of no use, sir. He's drunk, heavily so. But I shouldn't worry; Patsy will see to her."

When Ward made no reply, Carl asked, "Will you tell her, sir?" Then after a moment, just when it appeared that Ward was thinking deeply about something, he answered sharply, "Yes. Yes, I'll tell her," and with this he turned about and went towards the bedroom. But as he

opened the door there came at him a piercing cry, one which might have been wrenched from an animal in torment. He stopped dead and turned his head away.

When he again looked towards the bed it was to see Patsy endeavouring to pull a sheet over his daughter's knees.

Taking a few steps into the room, he beckoned to her, but before she moved from the bed she spoke to Jessie, and none too quietly, saying,

"Don't try to hold her arms down. I've told you, miss." Then she turned to peer at Ward who was standing beyond the rim of light cast by the lamp; he leaned towards her, saying quietly, "Carl couldn't get old Wheatley, he's drunk. Do ... do you think you could manage?"

She drew in a deep breath before she answered, "I'll have to, won't I?

There's nothing else for it. I . I've never brought a child afore .

animals, yes. Yet' she moved one shoulder in a characteristic gesture

"I've seen some hairns being born." She nodded at him now, more reassuringly: "Yes, aye, I'll manage," she said.

"That is if things come straightforwardly. If it gets stuck ... well, I don't know. We'll just have to wait an' see."

During this exchange she had not once addressed him as master or sir, and it had not passed his notice, and somewhere in his mind was the thought that she was speaking to him in much the same manner as Annie did.

She was about to turn away when she said, "How's the time going and now she did add, 'master?"

"Nearly one o'clock, I think," he answered, as he watched her walk towards the bed in which his daughter was lying, comparatively quiet now except for her heavy gasping breath. He knew that he himself could bring the child; yet not for the life of him could he even approach the bed at this moment, for whatever she was about to deliver into the world would be obnoxious to him. And if it was a distorted body, well, he had already made up his mind what he would do about that . and even if it wasn't.

When Patsy heard the door being closed, she turned to Jessie, saying,

"I'd bring the big chair up, miss, and sit yourself down. There's nothing going to happen for a while; it could be a long night."

Jessie's voice came in a startled whisper now as she said, "But she couldn't go on like this all night. Patsy. She'd be worn out. She's tired already. It's dreadful ... terrible."

"It's natural, miss."

What! "Jessie screwed up her face.

"All that pain? her screaming with it? No, no; don't say it's natural."

"I have to say it, miss: that's birth. That's how you came, and me an'

all," to which Jessie's reaction was in words which were long drawn out, spoken as she walked away: "It's unthinkable. Well, I knew there must be some discomfort, having seen the animals; but ... but not like this."

"Look, miss. Sit yourself down for a time. She'll be all right.

Don't worry. The quicker the pains come the quicker it'll be born."

When, by four o'clock in the morning, there was still no sign of

Angela's delivering her child, Ward ordered Annie into the room,

saying, "Those are both young lasses up there; go and see what you can do."

And so Annie, eyes weary for sleep, her legs heavy with water, mounted the stairs and went into the bedroom. She knew it would be of little use telling the distraught man that she'd had no experience in such matters. And after saying, "There, there, my lovely," and patting the face of the heaving half-demented girl, she willingly sat in the

armchair that Patsy indicated, and waited.

Annie was dozing when she heard Patsy's voice exclaiming, "Aye, aye!

Here it comes, miss. Another push. Another push. That's a good

girl.

Come on. Come on," and she struggled to her feet as she watched the tiny body slipping out of the equally small frame, and heard the girl let out a great sigh before sinking deep into the bed.

"She's whole ... bonny." The tears were in Patsy's eyes and her voice was thick as she dealt with the cord before handing the tiny, yelling infant to Jessie, standing now holding a towel, her face awash with tears.

Patsy pointed to the basin of water on the wash-hand stand: "Clean her eyes first; an' put another towel under her; then lay her on the

wash-hand stand. She'll be all right. Go on: you can do it. I must see to Miss."

Annie was now wiping Angela's face, and she turned to Patsy, saying,

"Can you deal with the afterbirth?" and Patsy replied, "Yes, if it comes natural like. Otherwise, I don't know. We'll just have to wait and see. Poor little soul." She stretched out her hand and touched Angela's cheek, encouraging her: "That's a good lass. You've made it.

You've made it. " Then turning to where Jessie was still

attending the child, she said softly, "Bring her here, and show it to her."

Jessie gathered up the child in a towel, almost joyfully now, and moved hurriedly towards the bed, both Annie and Patsy stepping aside so that Angela could see her child. And when she did, the response was so

loud, so piercing that they both fell back in astonishment.

Angela's mouth was wide as the screams issued from it, and her hands were flailing as if to throw the child from her.

"There now! There now! There! my love." Annie was aiming to hold down the flapping hands when Patsy said, "Out of my way! Annie," and she took hold of Angela by the shoulders and shook her gently as she cried, "Stop it! miss. Stop it! All right! All right! You don't have to see it. Only stop it!"

They were all well aware of the opening of the door, but no-one moved towards it until Jessie, who was standing in the corner of the room holding the small bundle to her, suddenly turned about to where the padded basket was standing on a low chair and, placing the child in it, she wrapped the towels well around it before covering it with the small quilt that lay across the bottom of the basket. Then she carried it towards her father; but she passed him and went into the corridor

without speaking; but as he muttered, "Wait!" he followed her, closing the door quickly behind him.

"She couldn't bear the sight of it, Daddy. It is dreadful ...

dreadful. And it is so lovely. It's a little girl, and she is quite whole . beautiful. And look, she's got quite an abundance of hair

already. "

He did not look at the child, but at her, and said, "I'll take it down."

"It ... it has to be kept warm, near the fire."

She did not release her hold on the basket until he said, "Yes. Yes, I know. Give it here."

She stood watching him carrying the basket and holding it away from him until he disappeared down the stairs. Then she returned to the room, only to stand near the door, her hand tightly over her mouth, the tears running over her fingers, before she made her way towards where Patsy was seeing to something on the bed that looked very distasteful.

Becoming aware of Jessie, Patsy stopped what she was doing and turned quickly towards her and asked, "Where's the child?"

Between sobs, Jessie said, "Daddy's taken her down to the kitchen,"

causing an immediate, unprecedented reaction from Patsy: she dug her elbow sharply into Jessie's arm, saying, "Go down and see to the child.

Go on now, quick!"

"But why? Daddy has ..."

"Do what you're told. Miss Jessie," Annie interrupted her, and the tone of her voice made Jessie turn and stumble from the room; but it wasn't until she was running down the stairs that she asked herself again, Why? and when the horrifying answer came to her she cried out inwardly. No! No! How dreadful of them to think he would do such a thing.

She entered the kitchen in a rush, and Ward turned from where he was standing in front of the fire, demanding, "What do you want?"

She didn't answer but she looked towards the hearth and around the room. There was no sign of the basket holding the child.

"Look, go back upstairs. I'll be with you shortly."

"Daddy, where is the baby?" Her tone was harsh now and she was no longer crying.

"Do what I say immediately."

"No! No! Daddy. I won't. Not this time I won't. What have you done to the baby?"

"I've done nothing to the baby."

"Well, where is it?"

"I've told you. Go upstairs and stay for a while. When you come back it'll be on the hearth waiting for you."

She shook her head wildly, and then started to yell, "I want the baby, and I want it now. Where ... ?"

She stopped when she heard a whimper, and she looked towards the

cold-store larder at the far end of the kitchen. This was a narrow room, marble-shelved '3? "i and stone-floored, and cold enough to keep milk fresh for three days, even colder than the dairy. And now she flew towards it, thrust open the door, and there, on the stone floor and lying on the towel, she saw the child quite naked. The basket was on the shelf.

Grabbing up the child, she held it tightly to her breast and pulled her shoulder wrap around it; then she turned and confronted her father, who was standing in the open doorway and the look in her eyes silenced *'|

him until, swinging his body around, he went to the table and beat his fist on it, the while growling, "It was the best way."

"No! Not Her voice was as deep as his.

"The child is perfectly formed.

It isn't a monstrosity. "

Swinging about again he cried back at her, "What about its mind? Its mother is half-mad. You've got to face up to that ... I've had to face up to it. And who can it claim as a father? Which one of the three?

And each an evil, lustful, ignorant swine. Tell me, what kind of

character is it going to have? What evil will it perpetrate, coming from such loins as those? Tell me! girl. Tell me!

She could make no answer; she could only hold the child more closely to her.

And now he went on, "And who's to care for it? Certainly not its mother. Certainly not Annie, who can hardly stand on her feet. And then there's Patsy, who will soon be creating a brood of her own. And that leaves you. Do you understand that, girl? Are you going to give your life for that thing?" he was thrusting his finger towards her now

'for she'll have to be guarded from her mother, and from me.

Yes, from me, for I don't wish to set eyes on it. And then there's her growing. I guarded you both from the village, but there will be

no-one to guard her from their tongues and their slurs. What name do you think they will pin on her, a child of three fathers, eh? an

offspring of an unholy trinity. "

"Stop it, Daddy! Stop it! Please!" Her voice was low now but such was its unusual tone and authority that it silenced him.

"I'll never marry," she said.

"The only one I wanted and I think I'll ever want is Carl. You offered me to him as a bribe in order to keep his services."

When she saw his eyes widen, she nodded her head, saying, "I know all about it;

and when he refused to take me the girl in me died. But I was left with one hope. Now that your favourite daughter was rejecting you, simply placing you among men, of whom she had become terrified, you would need me. And sure enough, you did notice me, because you needed me. But, like all secondhand things, it had no freshness: all your thoughts, in fact your whole being, is taken up with the tragedies that life has dealt you. And lately I have realised that your main concern is how things are affecting you. Not how they have affected Angela or me, or even Patsy and Carl and Annie. The tragedies that have touched you have rebounded on all of us, yet you can't see-it. "

He stared open-mouthed at her. She was just eighteen years old but she could have been twenty-eight, in looks, in manner and in her

thinking.

Oh yes, in her thinking. And at this moment he could find nothing to say in answer to her sudden tirade, no reprimand welled up in him to chastise her for daring to speak to him in such a manner. But he was aware she had saved him from murdering the child, and it was murder he had intended. Oh yes; and if the cold hadn't done it, in the present state of things a hand over its mouth would have.

He continued to stare at her as he wondered what had brought her

running in as she did. Some sixth

sense? And then it came to him as never before that his first-born had inherited the character of his dear Fanny while her replica

inherited only her stature and looks, and further, that she would have become frivolous. Appealing, yes, but wayward and frivolous.

As he turned from her and made for the kitchen door leading into the yard, it seemed to her that his shoulders had taken on a permanent stoop. But without dwelling further on this, she quickly stepped back into the larder, whipped up the basket and brought it to the fireplace and laid it on the end of the fender. Then with one hand she held up the towel before the fire, first one side then the other, before

wrapping the child in it.

She was on her knees when the door suddenly opened and Carl entered.

"It's come then?" he said.