The year of the virgins (2 page)

'Yes, Don. Yes, Don.'

Stephen now put his hand up to his throat and, pulling a bow tie to one side, he said to his father, 'It hurts my neck, Dad.'

'Nonsense. Nonsense.' Daniel went up to him and straightened the tie.

'Dad?'

'Yes, Stephen?'

'Can I go in the kitchen with Maggie?'

'Now you know that Maggie's getting the dinner ready.'

'Then I'll go with Lily.'

'Not now, Stephen; we won't go through all this again. You know what the pattern is: you say How do you do? to Mr and Mrs Preston and Mr and Mrs Bowbent and, of course, to Auntie and Uncle Allison and Annie . . . Annette. Then after you've done that and had a word with Annette, as you always do, you can go upstairs and Lily will bring up your dinner.'

'Dad.' Don was signalling to his father as he turned away to walk down to the end of the room where a wood fire was burning in an open grate, and when Daniel joined him he stooped and, picking a log from a basket, he placed it on the fire, muttering as he did so, 'Let him go up, Dad; he had an accident earlier on.'

'Bad?'

'No, just wet. But he's all nerves.' He stood up now and, looking at his father, said, 'It's hard for him. I can't understand why you make him keep it up.'

Daniel lifted his foot to press the log further into the flames, saying, 'You know fine well, Don, why I keep it up. I'm not going to hide him away as if he were an idiot, because he's not an idiot. We know that.'

'But it isn't fair to him, Dad. Let him go tonight. It would upset Mum if he were to have another accident, and in tonight's company. It's happened once before, you know it has.'

'That was a long time ago. He's learned better since.'

'Dad, please.'

Father and son stood looking at each other; neither spoke, even though in the background there was Joe's

voice still forming a barricade behind which they could talk, until Don said, 'Look upon it as an extra wedding present to me.'

'Aw! you; aren't you satisfied with what you've got?'

'Oh, Dad, don't say that, satisfied. I've told you, I can't believe it, a house of our own and such a grand one. And - ' He paused as he now looked deep into his father's eyes before adding, 'a good distance away.'

'Aye, lad, a good distance away. But there's one thing I've got to say, although I don't want to. But it must be said: don't cut her off altogether; invite her often, and come back here whenever you can.'

'I'll do that. Yes, yes, I'll do that. And one more thing from me, Dad: thank you for everything, particularly for bringing me through.'

He did not have to explain through what, nor did Daniel have to enquire; they both knew. Turning quickly, Daniel walked towards Stephen, crying, 'All right! You've got the better of me again. You're not only good at billiards, you're good at getting round people. Get yourself away up to your rooms; I'll get Lily to go up with you.'

'No need. No need, Dad.' Joe put his arm around Stephen's shoulders. 'We've got to get things straight here; he's backing Sunderland against Newcastle. Did you ever hear anything like it? Come on, you! Let's get this worked out.' And with that the two tall men left the room, Stephen's arm around Joe's waist now and a deep happy gurgle coming from his throat.

On their own now and with the opportunity for more talk, it would nevertheless seem that the father and son had exhausted all they had to say to each other, until Don asked, 'Like a game, Dad? We've got fifteen minutes; they always arrive on the dot, never before.'

'No thanks, Don. I'd better slip along to the kitchen and ask Maggie if she can send something upstairs before she gets the dinner going.' And with this he turned and abruptly left the room.

A baize door led from the hall into the maze of kitchen quarters. He'd had the main kitchen modernised, putting in an Aga, but leaving the old open fire and ovens, which were still used and baked marvellous bread. It was an attractive kitchen, holding a long wooden table, a delf rack on one wall, a sideboard on the other, a double sink under a low wide window that gave a view of the stable yard. There was a long walk-in marble shelved larder, and next to it a door leading into a wood store and from this into a large covered glass porch, where outdoor coats and hats were hung and, flanking one side, a long boot-rack.

The kitchen was a-bustle. Maggie Doherty, a woman of thirty-seven, stood at the table decorating with half cherries and strawberries a trifle which had already been piped with cream, and she glanced up at Daniel for a moment and smiled as she said, 'They'll soon be here.'

'Aye. Yes, they'll soon be here . . . That looks nice. I hope it tastes as good.'

'Should be; there's almost half a bottle of sherry soaking itself downwards.'

'Eeh! we mustn't let Madge Preston know, must we?'

'Tell her it's cooking sherry. It makes all the difference; you wouldn't believe.'

'Aye, I would. Is it duck the night?'

'Yes; with the usual orange stuffing and the odds and bods.'

'What soup?'

'Vichyssoise.'

'Oh aye? That's something to swank about.'

'Or shrimp cocktail.'

'Oh, Betty Broadbent'll go for those.'

He stood for a moment watching Maggie's hands putting the finishing touches to the trifle, then said, 'I've sent Stephen straight up. He hasn't been too good the day, I understand. Would you see that he gets a bite?'

Maggie Doherty lifted her eyes to his, then looked down on the trifle again before saying, 'Why you insist on putting him on show, God only knows; he suffers agony with strangers. How can you do it?'

'Maggie, we've been through this; it's for his own good.'

The top of the trifle finished, she took up a damp cloth from the table and as she wiped her hands with it, he said under his breath, 'For God's sake! don't you an' all take the pip with me, Maggie, 'cos it's been one of those days; a short while ago I just staggered out of another battle.'

Again she looked at him, but her gaze now was soft as she said, 'You know better than that,' before turning away and calling out to a young woman who had just entered the kitchen, 'Peggie! set the tray for Master Stephen and take it up. You know what he likes.' Then she added, 'Is everything right on the table?' And Peggie Danish replied, 'Yes, Miss Doherty. Lily's just put on the centre piece; it looks lovely.'

At this Maggie said, 'Well, I'd better go and see if I'm of the same opinion,' but she smiled at the young woman; then taking off a white apron and smoothing her hair back, she went from the room. And Daniel followed her. But once in the passage they both stopped and he, looking down into her face that was neither plain nor pretty yet emanated a soft kindness, said, 'I'm sorry, Maggie, sorry to the heart of me.'

'Don't be silly. I've waited a long time for that and I don't feel brazen in saying it.'

'Aw, Maggie; but after twenty years, and me like a father to you.'

'Huh! I've never looked on you as a father, Dan. Funny that' - she gave a soft laugh - 'calling you Dan.'

'You won't go then?'

'No.' She turned her eyes from him and looked up the passageway. 'I thought about it, then knew that I couldn't. But I'll have to watch my tongue and my manners, won't I? And that's going to be hard, because whenever she's treated me with a high hand I've felt like turning on her many a time and walking out. I never knew what kept me at first' - she was looking at him again - 'and when I did I knew I was stuck here. But I never thought it would be for twenty years. Early on I used to imagine it was just because of Stephen because he was so helpless and in need of love, and still is' - she nodded at him - 'more than any of us I think.'

'I wouldn't say that, Maggie.'

When she turned abruptly away he caught her arm and was about to say, 'Don't worry; it won't happen again,' when she forestalled him by looking at him fully in the face and saying, 'As you've known for years, I go to me cousin Helen's on me day off. You'll remember it's at forty-two Bowick Road.' She made a little motion with her head, then went from him, leaving him where she had left him, dragging his teeth tightly on his lower lip.

The dinner was over. The guests had spoken highly of the fare and congratulated Winifred on the achievement, and once again she had been told how lucky she was to have such a cook as Maggie Doherty.

As usual, the ladies had left the men to their cigars and port in the dining-room and had adjourned to the drawing-room. This was a custom that Winifred had inaugurated when they had first come into the big house, and this aping of a bygone custom had made Daniel laugh at first; but just at first.

Annette Allison sat on a straight-backed chair to the side of the grand piano and she looked from her mother to her future mother-in-law, then from Madge Preston to Betty Bowbent and, not consciously directing her thoughts as a prayer, she said to herself, 'Dear God, don't let me turn out like any of them.' And she did not chide herself for her thinking, nor tell herself that when next she examined her conscience she must repent for her uncharitableness to others, especially for not wishing to grow even like her mother; and she should have done for, educated in a

convent, she had been trained under the nuns since she was five years old, and so such thoughts should be anathema to her.

Her mind wandered to Don, but she knew she wouldn't be allowed five minutes' privacy with him tonight; not only was her own mother like a gaoler, but Don's was too. Oh, yes. When she thought of Don's mother she became a little afraid of the future because, once married and with the added status of a wife, she might not be able to hide her feelings or curb her tongue.

When she heard Mrs Bowbent mention the name Maria and her mother put in quickly, 'Wouldn't it be nice if we could order the weather for next Saturday?' she saw an outlet for her means of escape and, standing up she said to Winifred, 'Would you mind if I went up and had a chat with Stephen?'

After a slight hesitation Winifred smiled at her and answered, 'No, no; not at all, Annette. He'll be delighted to see you.'

The four women watched Annette's departure; then Madge Preston turned to Janet Allison and said, 'Why put a taboo on the subject, Janet? She knows all about it; in fact everybody does.'

'No, they don't.' Janet Allison almost bridled in her chair. 'And anyway, they moved, didn't they?'

'Yes; but not until Maria's bulge couldn't be hidden any longer.'

'Oh, Madge, you are coarse.'

'Don't be so pi, Janet. What if it had happened to Annette?'

Rising to her feet, Janet Allison said, 'You have gone too far this time, Madge.'

'Oh, sit down, Janet. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.'

Winifred had not spoken throughout this discourse, but now, putting her hand on Janet's arm, she said quietly, 'Do sit down, please, Janet, and we'll talk about something else. This is most distressing.' And she cast a glance at Madge and made a small reprimanding motion with her head. Then, looking towards the door, she said, 'Ah, here are the men,' and sank back heavily into her chair, at the same time almost pulling Janet Allison back into her seat.

They filed into the room, led by Daniel: John Preston, round, grey-haired, and smiling; Harry Bowbent, thin and weedy, and looking like an old parochial Mormon father; then the tall, imposing, big pot-bellied figure of James Allison. Joe was the last to enter, closing the door behind him, and as he passed Winifred she screwed round in her chair and asked him under cover of the babble of voices, 'Where's Don?'

'Oh, he just slipped upstairs to say goodnight to Stephen.'

She had to force herself not to get to her feet, but when, turning her head, she caught Janet Allison's eye tight on her she knew they were of the same mind . . .

In Stephen's sitting-room on the second floor Don and Annette stood locked in each other's arms. When their lips parted he said, T feel that I cannot live another minute without you,' and she answered simply, 'Oh, me too, Don, especially now.'

'Yes, especially now.' Then holding her face between his two hands, he said, 'Can you imagine any couple having mothers like ours?'

'No, I can't; and I'm riddled with guilt at times. But you've been lucky; your father's on your side, whereas I've got two to deal with. And, you know, the only reason I was allowed up here on my own was because the ladies

were about to discuss Maria Tollett once more. Honestly, Don, poor Maria. I remember her as a shy, quiet little thing. I could put a name to twenty that might have done the same thing, but not Maria. But then Maria did, and her people had to take her away and hide her some place because of the shame. I thought we were in a new world, a new era, and that kind of thing couldn't happen in nineteen-sixty. But, I suppose while there are people like your dear mama and mine, it could still be happening at the end of the century.'

Suddenly she put her arms around him and gripped him tightly to her, and in a voice that seemed to be threaded with panic she muttered, 'Oh God, bring Saturday soon.'

'It's all right, darling, it's all right. And just think' - he stroked her hair - 'three weeks in Italy. But of course we must go and see the Pope while we're there.'