the maltese angel (8 page)

Fanny? "

"Yes, Ward. But I ..."

"Don't finish it. Don't finish it; just hear me out. I love you. Dear God! How I love you. It surprises even me self I wake up in the night and wonder what's hit me. I never thought to feel like this, never in me life. And now I ask you, do you like me?"

"Oh yes. Yes." Her head went back and she gazed up into his face and she repeated, "Oh, yes, Ward. I like you. I like you very much; but .

but I must be fair, my feelings aren't the same as yours. You see, I've known you such a short time. Yet I am well aware you are a man of the finest character, and it wouldn't be fair to accept what you are offering .. "

"Don't say any more, dear. Don't say any more. Just listen. I'll wait.

I'll wait as long as ever you like, until your feelings change. That's if you want it that way. But--' Slowly he shook his head.

"What am I saying? I say I'll wait as long as you like. But who will I be waiting for? The week after next you'll be gone ... where? I

don't know.

Travelling from one town to another; and you'll meet all kinds of men who will make you offers. And you've likely had them afore now. "

She now put her hand out and gently placed it on his shoulder as she said, "Yes, Ward. I've had all kinds of offers but not one such as you are making me now, for I assume it is marriage you are suggesting?"

"Of course! Of course; nothing else. Why! who would dare ... ?" He clutched at her hand.

"Oh' she smiled gently at him 'many would dare;

they would call such an offer "protection" I have had offers to be protected since my people died. But the only protection I wanted was that of Mr. and Mrs. Killjoy. Now they are worried for me because

they hope to retire soon and the thought of me being on my own troubles them. But I love to dance. You see, Ward, I cannot remember when I first walked, but I can remember when I first danced. My mother was a dancer, a beautiful dancer. She taught me all I know. As she said, she never, what they called, bounced me on her knee, I stood up and danced from my earliest days; and this being so I could never imagine not dancing again. Yet, having said that, at times I get tired of the routine, I mean of travelling, of boarding houses and back-stage

conditions, and, I must confess, of some types of audience, especially the Friday and Saturday ones. "

He now took her face between his hands as he said, I can understand that. Oh my dear, yes, I can understand that. To me, you are too

fragile, too beautiful, too nice

for that type of life; and if you want to dance, well, I'll take you to a dance every week. There's the Assembly Rooms in Newcastle;

there's the .. "

She laughed and, taking his hands from her face, said, "I don't think I would care for that kind of dancing. I don't need people, you know, to enable me to dance. Oh ... I am not expressing myself well. But look She turned and pointed to the field where the hay was spread and she said, " I could very easily dance through your hay. But, of course, I should have to have slightly thicker shoes on than when on the stage.

"

He laughed with her now, saying, "Aye, that would be a sight; I would love to see it. But ... but, Fanny' again he had hold of her hands' if it's just dancing you want for your own pleasure I'd build some

place.

"Look ..." He didn't continue, but quickly taking her hand, ran her along by the wall, round a copse of trees, and through a piece of

woodland; and then, pulling her to a breathless stop, he pointed into the distance, saying, "Look yonder. That's the back of the hams; but look there!" He now threw his arm out to the right and towards a strip of high stone wall as he said, "That could be the very thing." Still holding her hand, he drew her towards what she now made out to be some kind of glass-fronted lean-to. The wall was all of ten feet high and forty feet long. Fronting it was an eight-foot structure still

holding, here and there, panes of glass.

"That," he said, pointing to it, 'could be your own theatre. I'd have it done up. It used to be a vinery. My great-grandfather built it.

Some say the wall was the end of a house that once stood there; but there's nothing in the deeds about it. Anyway, with the price of milk and meat changing so much in his early days, my father had to cut down on labour, and it was let go until it is as you see now. But the

structure's fine. Come and look into it. "

He now beat a way with his boots through the tangled grass; and when they both stood in the doorless aperture, looking along the length of the building, the floor padded with the rotted foliage of years and yet still sprouting new growth, some of it reaching almost to the top of the wall, he said, "It's a mess now, I admit, but I can see it being a fine place. There's a sketch of it somewhere in the house that my

great-grandfather did when the vines were still covering the whole place, the grapes on it as big as plonkers." He now laughed down on her, saying, "You don't know what plonkers are?"

"No, I don't."

"Well, they're what the lads call large marbles, the outsize ones."

Her smile was soft as she stood gazing up at him without speaking, yet her mind was racing over the words Mrs. Killjoy had spoken to her just before he had arrived to bring them on the journey here.

"Don't let him slip through your hands, me dear," she had said.

"You're so young;

you know really nothing of life. You've been on the boards practically since you could walk, but still you know nothing of life . and men, and I'm telling you, it is my opinion you'll not find a better. He's too . I won't say simple, because there's nothing simple about him; but he's too straightforward to be bad. His tongue is not false; nor is his face; and there are those, you know, who appear to be gentlemen, whose words are coated with butter; only something in the eyes gives them away. This I have lea mt And there's nothing in that countryman's eyes that warns me of any treachery one way or the other.

What's more, he's no boy, he's a man of twenty-five, and looks older than his years. All right. All right. " Mrs. Killjoy's voice was ringing in Fanny's ears now, repeating the words she herself had

spoken.

"You say you don't love him, not as you would expect to about the man you intend to marry. But that comes, dear, that comes. It's amazing how it springs on you, often brought to life by some little action or word.

But it comes. "

Would it come to her with regard to this man? At the moment she

couldn't say; what she did say was, "I am not being swayed, Ward, by the promise of a long room in which I can dance, but rather because your sincere offer of marriage has made me hope that you could be

right, that my tender feelings for you will grow into something

stronger, and so with the hope that you will never regret having asked me, I promise you now to become your wife, whenever you wish it."

She gasped as she was lifted from her feet and held so that she looked down at him, and as he slowly returned her to the ground, his hands, like his whole body, trembling the while, he muttered, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. That was enough to frighten you off altogether. I'm like a

bear. But, oh Fanny! Fanny! You'll never regret those words ever,

not as long as either you and I live." And taking her face once more into his hands, he bent down and kissed her gently on the lips.

The action was restrained, and she was aware of this;

and impulsively she reached up her arms and put them around his neck; and when her lips touched his cheek he remained still. His own arms about her, he held her as gently as if she were some ethereal creature; which in reality is how he saw her.

It was she who now said brightly as she straightened her hat, "Let us go and tell them."

"Oh aye ... yes. But I don't think it will be any surprise. Well, it may be a surprise that you are going to take me on, but not that I've been breaking me neck for you over the past days. I know what Annie will say."

"What?"

"Tell me something I wasn't expecting."

Hand in hand now, they ran back up the field; then through another, and skirted the back of the barns and so into the yard. But in the kitchen they came to a stop: there was laughter coming from the hall;

and she whispered to him, "I know what's happening: the children are doing their turn. I ... I mean the dogs. But that's how Mrs. Killjoy sees them."

When he opened the door into the hall, it was to see the surprising sight of Annie with her hand pressed tightly over her mouth, her body shaking with laughter, and Billy at her side, his head wagging like a golliwog;

but more surprising still was the sight of the boy. He was smiling for the first time since he had come into the place; but more than smiling, he was gurgling as he watched the pretty white dog stagger down the hallway as if it were drunk; then fall on its back, its legs in the air, doing its turns as if on the stage;

and when the little man bent over it, gently smacking its hindquarters as he scolded it, it rolled over twice before getting on its hind legs, its front paws wagging as it staggered down the room to where Mrs.

Killjoy was waiting.

Instinctively, Annie clapped; and so did little Billy;

but the boy walked straight-faced across the hall to Mrs. Killjoy, and said, "May I pat him, ma'am?"

"You can that, son. You can not only pat him, you can put your arms around him. But " he" is a she. She's a drunken little no-good. Come here with you!"

She drew the dog towards her and, lifting it, put it in the boy's arms.

And when the dog's tongue came out and licked his cheek, the boy

actually laughed. But it was a strange sound, not like a laugh at

all.

But the sound changed quickly into a moan when Mrs. Killjoy clapped her hand on to his back; and when his arms opened and the dog slid from him, she said, "What is it, laddie? What is it?"

"He's got a sore back, Mrs. Killjoy," Ward explained, walking up the room.

"He's just new to us, but where he was last he was badly treated."

"Never! Never! And him but a spelk of a child with no flesh on his bones."

"True, Mrs. Killjoy. But come into the parlour and I'll show you something," Ward said, gently pushing the dog

forward; and the company followed him, dogs and all.

There, saying to Carl, "Lift up your shirt," the boy did as he was bidden and exposed the rough bandage around his back; and when Annie took out the two safety pins holding it in place and so further exposed the suppurating weal, both Mr. and Mrs. Killjoy stood dumbfounded for a moment. Then the woman demanded, "Who did that to him? He should be in gaol. He should that. If I knew ..."

"Only the boy knows, Mrs. Killjoy, and he doesn't want to say; nor does he want this to go any further because, as he'll tell you, he's afraid of being sent back. And so I know you won't mention this

matter."

Mrs. Killjoy now turned to Fanny, saying, "Did you ever see anything like it."

Fanny made no reply, but she went to the boy and laid a hand on his head and murmured something to him that caused his face to brighten and for him to say, "Italiano?"

"No." She shook her head.

"From Malta ... And you? You are Italian?"

The brightness faded from the small face; and his answer was again muttered: "I don't know. My mother was, I think. I can remember only odd words she said. It was long time ago. But my father, he spoke

different, like everyone else. I did, too."

She bent down to him and said slowly, "I am going to touch your back; but you won't feel any pain. "

It was at this point Annie made a movement of protest, only to be

stopped by Mrs. Killjoy saying quietly, "She knows what she's doing.

Just leave her. She is like her own mother, she has power in her

hands. " And she turned to Ward and nodded; and he looked from her to the slip of a girl who had promised to be his wife. He had hurried her here to bring the wonderful news, but now it seemed secondary to the needs of the boy, as he watched her place her hands across the

suppurating sore. He watched her press hard on it, and the boy make no movement that might indicate he felt pain of any kind.

He now watched this beautiful girl, who had driven him half crazy over these past few days, close her eyes, bow her head, and talk as if to herself for a minute; then quickly taking her hand from the boy's back, she took out a handkerchief from her dress pocket and wiped it whilst smiling widely at the boy and assuring him: "It will soon be better.

Did ... did you feel anything?"

He was smiling up into her face now.

"My back was warm, very warm, but nice. I mean comfort ...

comforting."

She now asked him, "Did you used to speak Italian?"

He shook his head.

"I don't know. As I said, my mother used some words. I can remember "

bambino"."

She touched his cheek, then asked, "What is your name?"

"Carl, ma'am."

"Well, be happy, Carl. Be happy."

"Yes, ma'am." He turned now to look at Ward who, assuming now a stiff, almost angry front, exclaimed, "You know what you have done, boy?" and the lad, somewhat apprehensively now, answered, "No, no, sir."

"You have stolen my thunder, that's all." And Ward's hand went out and ruffled the boy's thick hair, while addressing the others, saying, "And I mean that. I came tearing back to tell you my splendid news .. our splendid news--' He held out a hand towards Fanny, and when she took it he drew her to his side and, placing an arm about her narrow shoulders, as he spread his gaze round from one to the other he said, " This beautiful lady here has promised to be my wife. "

They all stared at him, and with the exception of the boy, it would appear from their expressions that they were dumbfounded. Then the exclamations came pouring out: and while Fanny was becoming breathless in being hugged to Mrs. Killjoy's overflowing flesh. Ward's hand was being shaken, first by Mr. Killjoy, then by Billy,

7i

and lastly, Annie stood there before him. She did not shake his hand, but smiling at him, she said jokingly, "What a surprise! What a surprise!" and in answer he gave her a playful push in the shoulder.