life.’ He cast a hard glance down now on Jimmy and demanded, ‘Do you know how much I’ll be worth when I marry her? Have you any idea? I’ll be a rich man, ’cos she’s rollin’, and I’ll be in control. Just think on that.’
‘Aye well, good for you, I hope it keeps fine for you.’
The colloquial saying which was for ever on Lizzie’s tongue caused Rory to screw up his eyes tightly for a moment.
I hope it keeps fine for you.
Would he ever do anything right in this world? Would he ever do anything to please anybody? . . . Well, he was pleasing her, wasn’t he? He had never seen a woman so openly happy in his life as he had her these past three weeks. Her happiness was embarrassing; aye, and humbling, making him say to himself each night when he left her, I’ll repay her in some way, and he would, he would, and to hell with the rest of them. The kitchen had seen him for the last time, he’d go to that registry office whenever she liked and he’d show them, by God! he’d show them. He would let them see if he could live up to her or not.
I hope it keeps fine for you.
And Janie was dead!
3
He let himself in through the front door, but as he opened the door leading from the lobby into the hall Jessie was there to close it for him.
‘What a night, sir. Eeh! you are wet.’ As she took his hat and thick tweed coat from him he bent towards her and said in a conspiratorial whisper, ‘Well, don’t shout it out, Jessie, or I’ll have to take cough mixture.’
‘Oh, sir.’ She giggled and shook her head, then said, ‘The mistress is upstairs,’ and as he nodded at her and went towards the staircase she hissed after him, ‘Your boots, sir.’
He looked down at his damp feet, then jerking his chin upwards and biting on his bottom lip like a boy caught in a misdemeanour he sat down on the hall chair and unlaced his boots. He then took his house shoes from her hand and pulled them on, and as he rose he bent towards her again and said in a whisper, ‘Between you all I’ll end up in a blanket.’
Again she giggled, before turning away towards the kitchen to inform the cook that the master was in. She liked the master, she did; the house had been different altogether since he had come into it. He might have come from the bottom end of nowhere but he didn’t act uppish. And what’s more, he had made the mistress into a new woman. By! aye, he had that. She had never seen such a change in anybody. Nor had she seen such a change in the house. Everybody was infected; as cook said, they’d all got the smit . . .
On opening the bedroom door he almost pushed her over and he put out his arm swiftly to catch her, saying, ‘Why are you standin’ behind the door?’
‘I wasn’t standing behind the door, Mr Connor, I was about to open the door.’
She put her face up to his and he kissed her gently on the lips.
‘I didn’t hear you come in.’
‘Well, you wouldn’t.’ He shook his head from side to side. ‘Jessie carried me from the front door to the foot of the stairs, made me put my slippers on, and told me to be a good boy.’
She shook his arm and smiled at him; then she unloosened his tie as she asked, ‘How did things go?’
He now pressed her from him and on to the long padded velvet stool set before the dressing table, and as he stood back from her he took off his coat and tugged the narrow tie from his high collar; then turned and as he walked towards the wardrobe that filled almost one entire wall, he pulled his shirt over his head, saying, ‘Very well. Very well. I’ve enjoyed meself the day.’ He looked over his shoulder.
‘More so than usual?’
‘Oh, much more so than usual.’
He now took from the wardrobe drawer a silk shirt with a wide soft collar, put it on, then divested himself of his trousers and, after selecting another pair from a rack, he stepped into them, while she watched him in silence and with seeming pleasure. Lastly, he donned a matching coat, then returned towards her, saying, ‘I met someone I’ve been hoping to meet for a long time.’
‘Lady or gentleman?’
He gave her a twisted smile now before answering, ‘Gentleman.’
‘Oh—’ She placed her hand on her heart now, saying, ‘My rage is subsiding, please proceed.’
He gave a small laugh, then sat down beside her on the stool. ‘Do you know a man named Nickle?’
‘Nickle? I know two men by the name of Nickle, Mr Frank Nickle and Mr John Nickle, but they’re not related. Which one did you meet?’
‘Oh, I’m not sure. This one lives in Plynlimmon Way.’
‘Oh, that’s Mr Frank Nickle. Why have you wanted to meet him? I’m sure you would have nothing in common.’
‘That’s where you’re wrong . . . What do you know of him?’
She put her head on one side as if considering, then said, ‘I know I don’t care much for him, yet I have nothing against him except that I don’t think he was kind to his wife. I met her twice. It was shortly after I came back from school, Mother was alive. We went to dinner there once, and she came here. She was a sad woman. I think she was afraid of him. Yes—’ she nodded—looking back, I think she was afraid of him. I don’t think Mother had much time for him either, but they were all members of the same church and . . . What are you laughing at?’
‘Oh, there’s the bell for dinner. I’ll tell you after.’
‘You’ll tell me now.’
He stared at her for a moment, then said quietly, ‘I’ll tell you later, Mrs Connor.’
She bit on her lip to stop herself from laughing, bowed her head slightly, then, holding her hand out to him, rose from the seat. When he didn’t immediately follow suit she said, ‘Would you mind accompanying me down to dinner, Mr Connor?’
‘Not at all, Mrs Connor.’ He did rise now and gave her his arm, and she laid her head against his for a moment and they went out and down the stairs and into the dining-room like a young couple who were so in love that they couldn’t bear to be separated even while going into a meal . . .
They had been married for five months now and Rory had grown so used to this way of life that it was hard at times for him to imagine he had ever lived any other. He was dressed as became a man of means; he ate like a man of means; he was beginning to enter the society of the town as should a man of means, because twice lately they had been asked out to dinner, and only four days ago he had played host to ten guests at this very table.
As day followed day he became more surprised at himself; he had never thought he would have adapted so quickly and so easily. Even Jimmy had said recently, ‘It’s amazing how you’ve learned to pass yourself. You’ll be hobnobbing with Lord Cole next.’
He had laughed and said, ‘I shouldn’t be at all surprised at that either, lad,’ at the same time knowing that while he might have gained access to certain houses in the town, there were still those whose doors would never be open to the one-time rent man, and among the latter were certain members of her church.
She’d tried to get him to church. He should attend for two reasons, she had laughingly said, in God’s cause, and the cause of business. But no, he had put his foot down firmly here. He couldn’t be that kind of a hypocrite. He had been brought up a Catholic and although he had never been through a church door for years, except when the banns were called and on the day he was married, he’d been born one and he would die one, he wasn’t going to become a turncoat.
He was happy as he had never expected to be happy again in his life. It was a different kind of happiness, a steady, settled sort of happiness; a happiness made up partly of material things, partly of gratitude, and . . . and something else. It wasn’t love, but at the same time it came into that category, yet he couldn’t put a name to it. But he liked her, he liked her a lot, and he admired her. Strangely, he had ceased to be sorry for her. He couldn’t imagine now why he’d ever been sorry for her. And strangely too, he was more at ease in her company than he had ever been with anyone in his own family, apart from Jimmy that was . . . He hadn’t always been at ease with Janie. It was funny that, but he hadn’t. No, he couldn’t put a name to the feeling he had for Charlotte, he only knew that he liked being with her and that this was the life for him. He had fallen on his feet and he meant to see that they carried him firmly into the future . . .
The meal over and in the drawing-room, she sat by his side on the couch and watched him begin the process of filling his pipe—This liberty had even shocked the servants. No gentleman smoked in a drawing-room, but there,
