Then She Fled Me (16 page)

“
I understood that it was a special place of yours.
”

“
Well, it is, sort of, but it
’
s rather cold for picnics, now.
”

“
Do you think so?
”
His eyes observed her coolly.
“
You know, you
’
ve hardly done your share towards entertaining the guest, have you?
”

She frowned.

“
You
’
ve always made it plain that you wanted to be left alone.
”

“
So I have, and you alone of your family have observed the letter of the law admirably. But one is inconsistent, you know. Sometimes one likes a change. Will you take me to St. Patrick
’
s Well, Sarah?
”

“
If you like,
”
she replied carelessly.
“
When do you want to go?
”

“
Any day that suits you,
”
he said, and she answered firmly:

“
It will depend on the weather and my farm work. You must be prepared to go at a moment
’
s notice.
”

The next few days were wet and windy and they all remained indoors except Sarah, who did such work on the farm as the weather permitted, coming in wet and muddy to be scolded by Nonie for bringing dirt into her newly scrubbed kitchen.

Kathy spent long hours in the snug making a frock. She hated mending, but she could sew beautifully and made most of her own clothes. Joe was taking her to a dance on Saturday and she wanted the dress for that. On Friday the sun shone again, and the sky was cloudless, and Sarah stood under the nursery window and shouted:

“
St. Patrick
’
s Well today, Mr. Flint. Are you coming?
”

He leaned out of the window, grinning at her.

“
A peremptory summons, Miss Riordan! What time do we start?
”

“
Just as soon as I get sandwiches cut. I hope you
’
re a good walker.
”

“
Oh, I think so. My legs are longer than yours. Give me a shout when you
’
re ready.
”

They set out an hour later in the thin November sunlight with a couple of old school satchels containing the lunch, and the two greyhounds trotting at their heels.

“
Kathy wouldn
’
t come,
”
Sarah said.
“
She wants to finish her dress for tomorrow, so you
’
ll have to make do with me.
”

He smiled faintly but only said:

“
What
’
s happening tomorrow?
”

“
Joe
’
s taking her to a dance in Knockferry. They don
’
t have them very often.
”

“
Aren
’
t you going?
”

“
Me?
”
She grinned widely.
“
What would I be wanting with wearing my
shoes out to Ted Murphy
’
s terrible band and nothing in my stomach but stale sausage rolls and fizzy ginger beer? Besides, there
’
s no one to go with.
”

He laughed.

“
It doesn
’
t sound very exhilarating. Is
fizzy
ginger beer all they give you to drink?
”

“
Och, there
’
s a bar and plenty to drink, but unmarried girls get a terrible reputation in Knockferry if they
’
re seen drinking spirits in public.
”

“
That, of course, must be a handicap if it
’
s a dull evening,
”
he agreed gravely.

“
The only thing to do is to get your partner to slip you one in the ladies
’
cloak room, only you have to look sharp and pour it down the lavatory if any of the ladies on the committee come in.
”

His eyes twinkled.

“
It sounds as if it might be rather a strain.
”

He glanced at her swinging along beside him, her eyes alight with appreciation of the day, and thought how different she was from her sister. No, he could not see Sarah observing the conventions of a local hop and deriving pleasure from it, yet from the way she walked, she looked as though she could dance.

“
Tell me about your sister and young Kavanagh,
”
he said.
“
Is she going to marry him?
”

“Oh, one day.”

“But they’re not engaged?”

“No, but Joe’s loved Kathy ever since she was a little gir
l.
”

“That doesn’t necessarily mean that he’s the right man for her.”

“Joe is good and kind and faithful. That makes him right,” she said obstinately. “Kathy’s very fond of him—we all are.”

“Are marriages still arranged in this country?” he asked idly.

“
Oh, yes. Nonie says Mary
’
s family are trying to arrange a match between her and Mike Dolan who has a bit of a farm near Kibeen, only Mike is a
s
king for two cows and Mary
’
s father will only part with one.
”

“
But you wouldn
’
t advocate that arrangement for your sister, would you?
”
He sounded amused.

“
Well, of course there
’
s no question of cows with Joe and Kathy, though when the time comes, Uncle B. will arrange a little settlement so that Kathy won
’
t be empty
handed.
”

“
I wonder would you take it so calmly if a marriage was being suggested for you,
”
he said with a lift of the eyebrow.

“
What would I want with a husband when I have
D
un
R
ury?
”
she laughed and began to whistle
The Spanish Lady.

“
Sing it,
”
said Adrian.

“
Sing it? You mean all through?
”

“
Yes, I want to know the words.
”

“
As I walked down through Dublin
C
ity

At the hour of twelve of the night

Who should I spy but a Spanish lady

Washing her feet by candlelight
...”

She began the song, fitting her steps to the lilt of the tune, and he thought how free and unselfconscious she was and what nonsense she had in her head about marriage.

“
Who should I spy but a Spanish lady

Brushing her hair in broad daylight

First she tossed it, then she brushed it,

On her lamp with a silver comb
.
.
.
”

H
e did not take the implied relationship between Joe and Kathy very seriously. So often these
childhood
attachments came to nothing
...

“
Catching a moth in a golden net;

When she saw me then she fled me

Lifting her petticoat over the knee.
”

Absurd child with her tantrums and her unchildlike flashes of tenderness
...

“...
In all my life I ne
’
er did spy

A maid so blithe as the Spanish Lady!

Whack for the toora-loora laddy,

Whack for the toora-loora lee
...
”

Sarah finished the refrain with a leap in the air. He smiled, thinking he would always associate thi
s
song
w
ith her.

“
Very appropriate,
”
he said.

“
To me? I always think of Kathy when I sing it. I can, see her through the window, washing her feet and tossing her hair and catching a moth in a golden net.
”

“
And fleeing with her petticoats over her knees?
”
He shook his head.
“
No, that
’
s you, Sarah.
”

She watched while he stooped and dipped his hands in the water, and said gravely:

“
You mustn
’
t expect a miracle, Mr. Flint—not all at once.
”

He smiled at her serious face.

“
I think you told me that the saint wouldn
’
t perform that sort of miracle. You said there were
o
thers.
”

“
Did I? Well, of course there are.
”

“
Such as?
”

She wrinkled her forehead
.

“I don’t quite know. But I think it may be true that when you lose something you find something else to take its place.”

“
You believe that?
”

“I think so.”

“You believe there is always compensation in
life, no matter how deep the loss?”

For a moment her small face held a look of pain, and he knew she was thinking of her father.

“
Not always at first,
”
she said gently.
“
But in time—well, things become one, if you can understand me.
”

He leaned against the rock, watching her.

“
You mean your father and Dun Rury are one.
”

“
Yes,
”
she said, startled.
“
How did you know?
”

The noise of the stream remained unbroken for a moment, then he said:

“
I
’
m not altogether sure that
’
s a healthy idea, Sarah.
”

She frowned at him.

“
How do you mean—healthy?
”

“
Well, it
’
s a sort of sublimation really, isn
’
t it?
”

“
Sublimation?
”

She was plainly puzzled, and he was not sure that he was clear enough about the theories of psycho-analysis not to confuse her further.

“
I mean,
”
he said,
“
you have transferred your love for your father to your love for Dun Rury. You
’
re very young, you know. You mustn
’
t let it become an obsession.
”

“
Is that how you felt about your career?
”
she asked, staring up at the sky.

“
Yes, I think it was. I had a childhood rather lacking in affection and I gave everything that was in me to my profession. It satisfied every emotion in me and was all I ever wanted. You in your different way are doing the same thing with your home
.”

“
Well, does it matter?
”

“
Yes, I think so, when you make a fetish of it. Supposing you had to leave Dun Rury for any reason.
”

“
Leave Dun Rury!
”

“
Well, you might want to get married, for one thing.
”

She smiled at the absurdity of such a suggestion, and said:

“
Did you ever want to get married?
”

“No.”

“
Have you ever been in love?
”

“
No.
”

“
Then how can you know?
”

He smiled.

“
Probably because I
’
m old enough to look back and see how different my life could have been now if I hadn
’
t shut out every emotion but one.
”

“
You mean if you
’
d had a wife and family, they would have been compensation for the loss of your career.
”

“
Well, don
’
t you think so?
”

She flung back her head.

“
No, no, you were right,
”
she cried.
“
You couldn
’
t know it would be taken from you.
”

“
You don
’
t know that your home may not be taken from you,
”
he said gently.
“
We none of us know, but in our arrogance we think we can keep what we hold.
”