‘D’ye think I cou’d have a bite to eat, Ma?’ Sam asked, hobbling after her into the dairy. ‘I cou’den cut the bread standin’ on my good leg.’
‘How did you manage last night, Sam, when your father wasn’t here?’ she asked in turn, a look of horror on her face. ‘If you couldn’t cut bread on one leg you could hardly cook yourself bacon and eggs.’
‘Ach, it was a bit of a joke,’ he said, beaming at her. ‘There was a big heel left in the bin, about two inches thick, and I found a lump of cheese. I cou’den carry it back into the kitchen, so I had to munch it leanin’ against the sink,’ he said, cheerfully.
Rose shook her head as another thought struck her.
‘And how did you get upstairs on crutches, Sam?’
‘Well, I thought about it,’ he said with a soft laugh. ‘An’ I reckoned I stood a good chance of breakin’ the other, so I slept in the parlour,’ he explained. ‘I had a bit of luck though. You’d left the sheet and blanket on the table, so I wrapped them round me an’ stretched out on the couch.
‘The stove went out when the coal bucket was empty,’ he went on. ‘I can get about fine, but if I use my arms for the crutches, I’ve no hands for anythin’ else. I never knew how handy legs were,’ he laughed, as he eyed the plate of bread and jam Rose had made while he was talking.
They waited patiently while Sam devoured half the plateful and drank a full mug of tea.
‘Well,’ he said, sighing comfortably as Hannah refilled his mug, ‘I can’t tell you much. I was bendin’ over the nearside wheel with an oilcan an’ I caught somethin’ move in the corner of my eye. The next thing I knew I was lyin’ on the ground bleedin’, wi’ m’ leg broke. No one saw what happened ’cept wee Billy. You remember Billy, don’t you, Ma? The wee lad usta be one of the flagmen?’
Rose nodded quickly, as his sisters urged him to go on.
‘Well, he said one of the empty wagons started rollin’ and I jumped outa the way, but it caught the back leg. He heard the crack, he says. He told the Boss about my leg when he came out of his office, but the Boss paid no attention to him. He just got out the kit and bandaged my head. But Billy ran away up the hill to Rathmore for Da and he came an’ took me straight over to yer man Stewart in Dromore,’ he went on, pausing to lower half the contents of his mug. ‘He said the leg was broke sure enough and he set it right away. We were powerful lucky he was there. He’d just come in to his dinner an’ wou’da been away again in a few more minits. He asked after you, Ma, an’ said Miss Sinton told him you were enjoyin’ your holiday and feelin’ better. He was real pleased about that,’ he added, turning back to his bread and jam.
‘But when did the accident happen, Sam?’ Sarah burst out, her eyes grown wider as she listened to his story.
‘The day’s Saturday, isn’t it? Well, then it was this day two weeks.’
‘Two weeks ago,’ Rose repeated, taken aback. ‘And what have you been doing to amuse yourself when Da’s been at work?’ she asked, shocked at the thought of him hobbling around for that length of time.
‘I’ve read every book in the parlour from the Bible to the Children’s Encyclopaedia and half the novels forby,’ he said, grinning. ‘I liked Pride and Prejudice right well, but then I’d seen the play, so it was easier to get the hang of it than some of the others.’
Rose looked at Sam and smiled to herself. There was something about his irrepressible good humour that was utterly endearing. It wasn’t every young man who would ask for so little attention.
‘So why didn’t you tell me what happened when you wrote?’
‘Sure, I knew you’d worry,’ he said promptly. ‘Da and I discussed it and I said there was no need to trouble you, it was only a matter of weeks before I was back to work and none the worse. It mighta been different if it hadn’t been for Dr Stewart, but sure we knew not to go to the man in Banbridge,’ he said, polishing off the last of his bread and jam.
Rose smiled and said nothing. He was quite right. Until she’d seen him for herself, she’d certainly have worried. The news would have cast a very different light on that last week when they’d celebrated Hannah and Teddy’s engagement every day.
‘Sam, dear,’ she began, as one thought led to another. ‘What’s happened to Mrs Rea? Is she all right?’
‘Aye, she’s fine. She’d some relative ill, so she went to see to them. When she came back, she said she’d been offered a good place if she could take it right away. Da said she must go for she’d been good to us an’ we all knew she’d not be needed long once you were back.’
‘And when was that, Sam?’ asked Hannah, whose eye had been lingering on the cobwebs and the dark patina of the unwashed floor.
‘About a month ago,’ he said vaguely. ‘It must have been just before Elizabeth and Hugh went off. Da and I managed fine until I broke the leg. We were going to have a good clean up for you comin’ home, but there’s been one thing after another at the mills. Da’s been back and forth every time anythin’ goes wrong.’
‘Sam, what about Dolly? Has she had breakfast?’ Sarah demanded.
‘Dolly’s fine. Don’t worry. The grass is good after all the rain and Da left her hay yesterday. She’ll not go hungry. But she’s lonely. She comes runnin’ whenever she hears me clumpin’ along,’ he said, looking from one to the other. ‘I think she’s missed ye.’
‘Could we go now, Ma? Just for a minute?’ asked Sarah. ‘Then we’ll come back and see what jobs you want us to do.’
‘All right. Don’t be very long. I may need you to go down to MacMurray’s or into town for some shopping,’ warned Rose, whose first glance at the larder and store cupboards had not been encouraging.
A little later when Sam had hobbled off to the privy, Rose heard footsteps at the door. Thinking it was the girls, she stepped back into the kitchen. She was just in time to see John come over the threshold.
‘Ach Rose dear,’ he said, relief and joy written all over his face, as he strode across the room and put his arms round her.
‘John, dear, I’m so glad to see you,’ she said, kissing him.
Only when he released her and held her at arms length to look at her, was she sure of what she’d glimpsed as he’d crossed the threshold, the worn and haggard look on his face.
‘Why didn’t you tell me, John, about Mrs Rea and then about Sam?’ she asked gently.
His working trousers crinkled at the waist where he’d tightened his belt. He had most certainly lost weight.
‘Aye, and that’s not the half of it,’ he said, sounding remarkably cheerful. ‘Sure none of it matters now I have ye home an’ ye lookin’ so well. Where’s all our family?’ he went on, looking round the kitchen.
‘Sam’s in the privy after two mugs of tea,’ she replied laughing, ‘Sarah and Hannah are away to say hello to Dolly.’
‘And Jamie? Where’s he?’
‘I don’t know, John,’ she said slowly. ‘He wasn’t there to meet us. We waited an hour or more and then came on by ourselves.’
‘Ach Rose, ach Rose,’ said John, his voice catching, ‘what sort of a welcome home was that? When the fire sprung up again I thought to meself, well, at least Jamie’s there to help them and warn them about Sam. Rose’ll guess I coulden get away. Ach Rose,’ he repeated again, his face distraught.
‘Never mind, love. I was worried when none of you were there, but I don’t think we need be concerned about Jamie,’ she said reassuringly. ‘He might just have overslept if he was out on Friday night, or maybe he had some meeting first thing. He’d have known you and Sam were there.’
‘But sure he knew about Sam,’ replied John sharply. ‘I told him about his accident when I wrote with the day and time to come to meet ye.’
Rose caught the look on John’s face and was about to reply when two figures passed the front window.
‘Da,’ cried Sarah, flinging her arms round him as she and Hannah dashed into the kitchen. ‘We didn’t hear you,’ she explained, breathless with excitement, as John hugged them both. ‘But then Dolly whinnied and we heard Bess answer, so we knew it had to be you.’
‘My goodness, yer both lookin’ great,’ said John. ‘I suppose I’m lucky I amn’t losin’ the both of you,’ he said, slyly, as he glanced from one to the other, one daughter engaged to be married, the other no longer the lively schoolgirl he’d waved goodbye to, two months ago.
‘Sam, how are ye son, did ye manage all right last night?’ he asked anxiously, as Sam followed them more slowly. ‘Sure I thought I’d have your mother and the girls back here in time to make your breakfast. But ye can never tell with fire,’ he went on, shaking his head.
He sat down abruptly and pulled off his boots which were spattered with ash and splashed with water.
‘We all thought it was well doused and it was lookin’ like rain forby. Then, the next thing we know the nightwatchman was knocking us up to tell us it had got goin’ again.’
‘What started it, Da?’ asked Sam, as he lowered himself carefully into the other armchair.
‘Oh, the usual,’ John replied, the weariness obvious now in his voice. ‘Always the same with an engine house. High temperature, dry air, fumes from the lubricating oils. A stray spark from somewhere. Possibly even spontaneous combustion. The afternoons have been hot even if the nights are gettin’ cold, and the big double doors have to be kept closed at all times to stop the childer gettin’ in,’ he said, looking up at them, as he stretched his feet backwards and forwards to ease them.
‘That’s in the rules now, about the doors, and right and proper too, for the sake of the wee lads and lasses that know no better than to sneak in for a look and then get hurt. But closed doors means bad ventilation,’ he summed up, as he got to his feet and hunted for a pair of shoes.
When Rose found how few hours of sleep John had had the previous night she persuaded him to go and lie on the bed while she set about getting some lunch. With everyone already hungry from either a very early start or no breakfast, or both, she looked more carefully at the larder. Apart from half a baker’s loaf that smelt mouldy, even if it didn’t show any very obvious signs, the only other item in there was some bacon with a very strong smell and two eggs. She’d used the last of the milk when they’d made a fresh pot of tea for John.
She smiled to herself as she went out to the stable in search of potatoes, thinking of lunches at Ashley Park. Homely enough meals, a shepherd’s pie or cold meats, but always beautifully served with vegetables straight in from the garden and bowls of fresh fruit for dessert.
To her great relief there were potatoes in the sack, though some of them had sprouted in the heat. She gathered up what she needed, collected a handful of scallions from the patch by the back door and went back into the dairy where Sarah was scrubbing the stained Belfast sink.
‘What next, Ma?’ she asked, rinsing away the scouring powder.
‘MacMurray’s. You’d better both go. Three pints of milk, a dozen eggs, two pounds of butter, or whatever they can spare. Take my purse in case we owe them for what Young Bill’s been delivering.’
By noon, Sam had peeled all the potatoes, Rose had fine chopped the scallions and Sarah and Hannah had arrived back with everything she’d asked for together with the local news as well. When John tramped back downstairs in his socks, he sniffed appreciatively.
‘Man, that smell’s good. We made champ a couple o’ times, diden we, Sam? But it diden smell as good as that.’
‘Come on then, come to the table. I’ve made plenty for there’s no bread and no cheese. Does anyone want a glass of milk?’
She served a pale green mound, topped with a generous knob of butter, onto each plate. Silence reigned for some minutes until Hannah and Sarah paused to deliver the news from MacMurray’s.
‘Michael says the price of butter has dropped again,’ said Sarah, between mouthfuls. ‘There’s so much coming in from New Zealand the packing station says they can’t compete in price.’
‘And he’s worried about his potatoes,’ added Hannah sympathetically. ‘He says he’s sprayed a second time, but he’s heard rumours from the west coast they’ve had blight, but no one is letting on and if he loses his potatoes on top of the drop in his butter money …’
Hannah paused as a figure appeared in the doorway, knocking on it politely as if it were not wide open.
‘Billy, how are ye?’ called John. ‘Come on in.’
‘No, I’ll no disturb ye at yer meal,’ said Billy, coming in and handing Sam an envelope. ‘Are ye doin’ rightly, Sam?’ he asked, as Sam put down his fork, took the large envelope and looked at it curiously.
‘The best at all, Billy,’ replied Sam promptly. ‘Is this my pay?’
‘Aye, I woud think so. I’ll come up one evenin’ in the week,’ he said, nodding at Rose and John and shyly avoiding Hannah and Sarah. ‘Be seein’ ye,’ he called cheerfully over his shoulder as he darted off.
‘That was good of him to come up with yer pay, Sam,’ said John warmly. ‘An’ he came last week as well.’
‘He’s a good sort, wee Billy, though he hasn’t much hands for anything,’ said Sam, as he studied the envelope curiously. ‘He was lucky to get the job sweepin’ up when the flagmen all went. His Da wasn’t so lucky, I hear he’s lookin’ for work yet.’
‘That’s near a year now,’ said John, as he held out his plate for a second helping. ‘Does his Ma work?’
‘Aye, she’s in the bleach works with one of his sisters, but the wee sister’s only a half timer,’ he said, as he tore open the envelope.
A small shower of coins fell on the table, some of them running on their edges till they encountered the milk jug. They collapsed with a small clatter as Sam drew out of the envelope some grubby banknotes and a battered brown card. He stared at the card open-mouthed and then looked from John to Rose and back again.
‘What’s that, Sam?’ Sarah burst out, staring at him across the table.
Sam looked inside the envelope again, but there was nothing there.
‘Is that what I think it is?’ he asked flatly as he handed the brown card to his father.
John took it from his hand, glanced at it and pressed his lips together.
‘Aye, it is,’ he said, nodding grimly. ‘I’d never have thought yer man Thompson capable of doin’ that, an’ you there from the minit ye left school,’ he said quietly, as he pushed away his plate. ‘I’m not sure he can do this to you, Sam, an’ I’ll make it my business to find out. Whatever happens we’ll get over it somehow. Now finish your dinner like a good man. It’s not the end of the world.’
Sam picked up his fork and made an attempt to finish his champ. Through no fault of his own, he had lost the job he’d dreamt of since he was a little boy. Sarah could see his eyes glittering with moisture as he bent over his plate. The look on his face she’d never forget.
However concerned she might be for Sam, Rose knew an immediate visit to Banbridge was essential. While John was saddling up Dolly and backing her between the shafts of the trap, she had a word with Sarah and Hannah in the dairy.
‘Now, don’t exhaust yourselves trying to do everything that needs doing,’ she warned, as she saw them don aprons. ‘The most important thing is the larder. It needs a good scrub before I get back. I don’t think they’ve had clean sheets for about a month and there’s a chamber pot somewhere. Don’t start scrubbing the kitchen floor. Just give it a sweep and we’ll do it a bit at a time, and don’t leave Sam on his own. Find him a job he can do sitting down. Poor love, I’ve never seen him so upset.’
‘Ma, is Jamie coming tomorrow?’ Hannah asked, as Rose collected her purse and shopping bags.
‘Well, I’d have thought so, given he couldn’t come this morning. Why, love?’
‘Oh, it’s just … I was thinking, if I’m off to Dublin next Saturday, I won’t see him for nearly a year if he doesn’t.’
‘Gracious, Hannah, you’re quite right. I think I’ve lost a weekend somewhere,’ she said, peering at the calendar over the sink. ‘Yes, next weekend is the first weekend in September. You leave London for Zurich the second weekend in September, but you’ve got to get to London first. What a good thing you reminded me.’
While Rose was reluctant to go shopping on her first afternoon at home, Dolly was quite delighted to be trotting along the main road on a fine, sunny afternoon. Already the lime trees were showing patches of pale yellow leaves, the chestnuts had hints of pink, and the mountain ashes were hung with clumps of red berries, bright as beads.
‘I didn’t tell Jamie about Hannah and Teddy,’ John said, turning to her as they bowled along. ‘I though she’d maybe like to tell him herself.’
‘So he doesn’t know she’s going away again?’ she said thoughtfully.
‘No, but he knows his brother’s in plaster an’ he hasn’t been to see him,’ he said, without taking his eyes off the road.
Rose sighed. Clearly, Jamie’s behaviour had not pleased his father while she’d been away, for almost everything John said about him was edged with sharpness. She could see he was still upset by Jamie’s failure to turn up at the quay this morning. It was, after all, only a few hundred yards from where he worked and a mere hour before his usual time.
‘Can we depend on him comin’ tomorrow, d’you think?’ John asked, when Rose explained about Hannah’s departure date.
‘No, I don’t think we can,’ she said slowly. ‘Maybe this was his Saturday morning off, the one he gets every two months or so. He might be away cycling with his friends over the weekend.’
‘Then he might very well have let me know,’ he retorted promptly. ‘I wrote last Sunday tellin’ him when ye’d be arrivin’ and suggestin’ where we’d meet, convenient for him. He had a whole week to drop me a line,’ he said, his tone aggrieved.
‘Would he get a telegram this late in the day if we sent it right away?’
‘Ach, I couldn’t rightly tell you. An’ sure if he’s not at his lodgings we’d still be none the wiser.’
They drove on, turning over the problem Jamie’s silence had created for them.
‘There’s nothing for it,’ said John, as he swung the heavy shopping baskets up into the trap. ‘I may away up to Belfast meself an’ see what’s going on. Far better a couple of hours now than sittin’ wonderin’ tomorrow, is he or isn’t he comin’,’ he went on, seeing her troubled look. ‘Are ye sure ye’ll be all right with Dolly. She’s a bit fresh still.’
‘I’ll be fine,’ Rose assured him, as he handed her the reins. ‘Bring him back with you if you can. Sam could do with a bit of company.’
‘Aye, I’ll do that. Mind yerself now. I’ll be back as soon as I can.’
She watched him stride away towards the station, turned Dolly in the busy street and wondered if it was really this morning she’d wakened up in a ship’s cabin, a stewardess offering her a cup of tea. It seemed now almost as far away as the beginning of the summer.
John was no more successful in meeting up with Jamie than Sam had been on the February evening when Rose had taken ill, but in broad daylight, on a pleasant, August day, he did succeed in gaining admission to the tall, red-brick house. The proprietoress, a dignified woman who prided herself on the superiority of her establishment, ushered him into the young gentlemen’s empty parlour, but did not invite him to be seated.
She confirmed that young Mr Hamilton had been out late on the previous evening and had not appeared at breakfast. He had been at lunch, however, and had then set off with some of the other young gentlemen for a tea party, to be followed by supper and dancing. Naturally, she had not enquired where this entertainment was to be held, but one of her staff had mentioned Helen’s Bay, a favourite location for the senior management at Harlands.
She provided John with a pencil and a sheet of paper upon which to leave a message, after which she wished him good afternoon.
‘What exactly did you say in your note, John?’ Rose asked, next morning, as she rubbed rosemary over a shoulder of lamb.
‘Ach, I can’t exactly mind,’ he admitted, leaning against the wall of the dairy, watching her. ‘I said you were sorry not to see him yesterday and we’d be expecting him for dinner. Something like that. With yer woman standin’ over me as if I were goin’ to pinch the silver, I had the dickens own job to think what to put. But I’d say he’ll come.’
Jamie was angry his father’s note mentioned his failure to turn up at the docks. As he read it over and over again, what made him angrier still was what he took to be an order to come home the following day, because his mother and sisters wanted to see him. He was so furious at this intrusion into his weekend plans, he considered ignoring the note altogether. But by the time he’d finished breakfast, he decided he’d have to go.
As every mile passed, he thought of the young managers he should have been meeting that afternoon at Waterside, the large, elegant home of his immediate superior. All he could think of was the wasted opportunity. He would be twenty-one in October, his apprenticeship complete. Now his whole attention was focused on the next critical step, Junior Manager. The warm sunshine of early autumn was lost on him as he strode out of the station, his resentment growing with every stride.
Rose was checking the table in the parlour when she heard footsteps on the garden path. She cast a final glance at the six places laid with the best china, the cutlery Sam had polished so devotedly and the small posy of flowers Hannah had made up from florets of delphinium. She paused, suddenly uneasy. Reverting to a habit out of the long past, she smoothed her skirt, as she’d done throughout all her years of service, whenever she went to answer a bell.
‘Jamie, how lovely to see you,’ she said, crossing the kitchen and embracing him warmly.
‘You’re looking well, Ma,’ he said, glancing round the room as she released him.
‘And so are you, Jamie. Very smart indeed,’ she said honestly.
Hannah was mending Sam’s working trousers, Sarah had just finished peeling and slicing the apples for the pudding. Sam had put down his newspaper. The first greetings over, all three observed their brother as he stood awkwardly by the kitchen table.
‘Where’s Da?’ he said casually, addressing his mother.
‘He’s just gone up to Rathdrum to see to Bess, he’ll be back shortly,’ she said, doing her best to make him feel easy. ‘Would you like some lemonade, Jamie, it must have been warm walking out from the station?’
‘No thanks, Ma, don’t bother. I’m used to it. I do a lot of walking.’
Rose collected up the prepared apples and felt acutely the unease his presence had produced all around her. Apart from the hellos, she’d half heard in the parlour, she hadn’t registered another exchange between the four young people.
Sarah stood up and wiped her hands on her apron.
‘Would you like to see the pictures we brought back from our visit?’
‘Oh yes. What a good idea’ he said, a hint of humouring in his tone.
Rose wiped and dried the kitchen table and Sarah collected her precious album from the parlour and pulled up two chairs, side-by-side at the table. He sat down and nodded as she turned the pages, explained who the people were and where each of the pictures had been taken. Sam watched them, listening attentively. Having spent much of the previous afternoon studying the photographs for himself, he knew exactly what Sarah was describing. Hannah appeared completely absorbed in her mending, the pretty ring on her engagement finger occasionally catching the light.
Jamie said very little. ‘That’s good of Ma,’ he volunteered at one point. ‘So that’s Lady Anne, is it?’ he added later. But mostly Sarah had to be content with nods and grunts.
She didn’t tell him she’d taken the pictures herself and he showed no curiosity whatever about them. Only when they came to the last pages and he spotted the picture of Hannah and Teddy under the rose covered arch did he throw out a sudden sharp question.
‘So, who’s the boyfriend, Hannah?’ he said, looking across at her.
‘He’s not a boyfriend, Jamie,’ she answered quietly. ‘He’s my fiancé. We’ll be getting married next year when I come back from Switzerland,’ she added coolly, catching his eye for a brief moment.
‘Switzerland?’ he said, even more sharply. ‘What on earth are you going there for?’
‘You could call it job training, if you like,’ she said steadily. ‘You’re learning to build ships, I’m going to learn how to run an establishment.’
‘You mean a finishing school, don’t you?’ he retorted, an ill-suppressed sneer in his tone.
‘If you like,’ she said easily.
‘Ach, hello Jamie,’ said John, as he strode into the kitchen and saw the two figures seated side by side at the table. ‘It’s great to see you,’ he added, as Jamie stood up and took his outstretched hand. ‘I hope we’re not puttin’ out yer plans for today,’ he went on agreeably, ‘but we’d a bit o’ news we thought we ought to celebrate.’
‘So I’ve just heard,’ said Jamie flatly, staring at Hannah, the tiny wink of diamonds catching his eye now he knew where to look.
Rose came in from the dairy with a pie dish in her hands. Hannah dropped her sewing to bend down and open the oven door for her. The smell of roasting lamb filled the kitchen.
‘Not long now, everyone. Are you all hungry?’ she asked, glad to see Sarah had managed to get Jamie to sit down.
She gave John a reassuring glance. Last night, in the privacy of their own bed, he’d admitted he never knew what to do to be right with young Jamie. He was doing his best now, but he wasn’t getting a great deal of help from Jamie.
As she went back to the dairy, she heard John ask about the production schedule on the Oceanic. Whipping cream for the apple pie, she learnt that a launch date had been proposed for January ’99 by which time Jamie hoped to be a Junior Manager. There was another silence and then she heard Jamie asking Sam when he hoped to be back at work. She caught the sharp note in Sarah’s voice as she asked Jamie about compensation for injury in the shipyards. At least twelve men a year died in accidents and dozens were injured, particularly by falling rivets, she said. But Jamie didn’t appear to know anything about such matters.
It was a relief to everyone when Rose called them to the table and she and Hannah set about serving the sizzling roast with a rich gravy and fresh vegetables from the garden.
‘Nothin’ like your mother’s good home cookin’, eh, Jamie?’ said John pleasantly, as he observed how quickly he cleared his plate.
‘No, not on an apprentice’s wage,’ he said, coolly.
‘Well, you won’t be on that for much longer, will you, love?’ Rose offered, aware of John’s uneasy movement by her side.
‘No, thank goodness. It’s only two months now till I’m twenty-one.’
‘And a year and five months till your ship is launched,’ said Sarah abruptly.
‘All being well,’ he replied dubiously. ‘Assuming your friend Lord Ashley and his like don’t manage to sell us out to Dublin with another Home Rule Bill. If he does, I can tell you it’ll be the end of the yards in Belfast. Harlands looked for space on the Mersey the last time there was one and they’d do the same again. But what would he care if ten thousand loyal Protestants lost their jobs?’
There was a moment’s stunned silence.
‘And what about the five hundred Catholics that do most of the dirty work?’ Sarah demanded promptly.
‘That’s their look out,’ he said turning and facing her. ‘Ulster is Protestant and we don’t need idle Catholics to take up jobs when we could find better men to do them.’
‘Are you suggestin’ Jamie,’ said John slowly and carefully, ‘that a Catholic worker is not the equal of a Protestant?’
‘Yes, I am,’ he replied quickly. ‘There’s nothing but trouble with the Catholics in the yard. We’d be far better off without them.’
‘Do you not think some of the trouble might arise from the way they’re treated?’ demanded Sarah, turning in her seat to stare at him.
Rose looked across the table and saw the determined look on Jamie’s face. If he’d set out deliberately to provoke his father he couldn’t have made a better start. She moved her knee cautiously to touch John’s, hoping a gentle reminder of her presence would steady him.
‘Is that what they teach you in the Lodge, Jamie?’ said Sam in a conversational tone as he finished up the last morsel on his plate.
Rose and John stared at Sam in amazement.
‘Lodge?’ Rose repeated incredulously. ‘Have you joined a Lodge, Jamie?’ she asked, looking at him directly.
‘Yes, I have,’ he replied firmly. ‘The Orange Order is the only organisation with any sense. They see the way the wind’s blowing. If we loyal Protestants don’t look out for ourselves, you’ll have a bunch of Catholic farmers in power in Dublin with no knowledge of industry and no interest in anything but their own problems,’ he went on, addressing himself to John and Sam and pointedly ignoring everyone else.
‘Did you tell them your grandfather was a Catholic when they made you a member, Jamie?’ Hannah asked quietly. ‘Did you mention that your uncles and aunts are Catholic? And all your cousins? That some of them are even farmers who do happen to be poor however hard they work?’ she went on, her tone growing ever colder.
‘That’s hardly going to bother you, Hannah,’ Jamie burst out. ‘You’re making sure you’ll never be poor. Da puts you in a silk dress and Ma gets you a rich husband and they leave me to walk to my work, with not enough money to buy a round of drinks.’
‘That’s enough, Jamie,’ John shouted, getting to his feet. ‘You’ll apologise to your sister for what you’ve just said. If you’re short of money, it’s your own fault. Haven’t I asked you every time you’ve come home if you needed anythin’, forby payin’ your lodgin’s and the bill for the suits, and the shoes and so on? What you get for your pocket from Harlands is more than I earned when your mother and I had you and Hannah and your Granny to keep. How wou’d I know it wasn’t enough, unless you tell me?’ he asked, sitting down as Rose put a hand on his.
‘I shouldn’t have to come begging,’ he shot back. ‘Did Sarah and Hannah have to come crawling to you for all their smart dresses?’
‘No, Jamie, they didn’t,’ Rose said quietly. ‘But it was clear what was needed and we did make most of them ourselves. If you’d told us what you needed, you could have had it. Have we ever refused you anything if we could give it to you?’ she asked, trying to keep her voice calm and steady.
‘No, you haven’t,’ he said grudgingly. ‘But you don’t seem very interested in my well being and my career. All I hear about when I come home is your grand friends up the hill and across the water.’
‘We don’t need to ask about your career, Jamie,’ said Sarah furiously, ‘you tell us about it all the time. All you can think of is Junior Manager,’ she went on, ‘and who’s useful and who’s not. I suppose you joined the Lodge, to get in with the right people.’
Rose shot her a warning glance, but the idea that Ma had got Hannah a rich husband had made Sarah hopping mad and she wasn’t finished yet.
‘You haven’t apologised to Hannah,’ she said, her eyes flashing with fury. ‘Or to Ma or Da. You’ve said horrible things about Da putting her in a silk dress and Ma getting her a husband. As if Ma would do such a thing even if Hannah needed her to. Come on, Jamie, we’re all waiting,’ she insisted, fastening her two bright eyes upon him.
‘Why should I apologise to anyone? I’m entitled to my own opinions,’ he said, glaring round the table. ‘You’re all so comfortable, living out here in the countryside, eating good dinners and going away on holidays to these English aristocrats that don’t give tuppence for us here in the north. Where would the province be without the hard work of people in industry to prop up agriculture in places like this?’ he demanded, his voice hectoring and bitter. ‘Where will you all be if the likes of me and my friends don’t try to hold on to our Protestant birthright? You’ll not be so comfortable, or have life so easy, if we end up with Home Rule. You’re just sitting back leaving the struggle to someone else,’ he said, glaring from Sam, to his father, and back again, ignoring the fact that it was Sarah who had challenged him.
‘You and Sam ought to be standing up for what Protestants have achieved in the north and not sitting back taking your ease.’
‘Does it ever occur to you Jamie, there might be some other way of lookin’ at things?’ said John, with an effort of control.
‘No, it doesn’t. There’s no two ways of looking at what’s happening in this province. There’s only those who see the truth and those who can’t or won’t take the trouble to see for themselves. You’ve only to read your newspaper to see Redmond getting in with the likes of Ashley and Altrincham, and Salisbury no match whatever for their manoeuvring.’
‘What do you know about Lord Ashley, Jamie, except what you want to think?’ Sarah demanded witheringly. ‘He’s been working half the summer with the Congested Districts Board to help poor people in the west, people like Ma’s parents, who haven’t enough land to make a living, who starve when there’s blight and get evicted if there’s no one to stand up for them. Do you care nothing about anyone else but yourself? You’ve been lucky. You wouldn’t even have survived to be in Harlands if it wasn’t for Ma and Da working to keep you fed and James Sinton paying your apprenticeship money when Ma and Da hadn’t got it. But you’ve forgotten that, haven’t you? We’d still be living in a two roomed cottage opposite the forge if it wasn’t for Ma and Da. We were poor, Jamie. Poor. Have you forgotten that?’
‘Well, we’ll all be poor again if your fine friends get their way with all of you to encourage them,’ he said, springing to his feet so violently he knocked his chair over. ‘And I’m not staying here to be lectured by a chit of a schoolgirl. Catch yourselves on, for God’s sake, before it’s too late,’ he said, as he shoved the fallen chair out of his way, pushed past behind Hannah and Sam and banged the parlour door as he left.
There was a moment’s silence before they heard his feet on the road.
Sarah looked from Rose to John, unrepentant, but distressed by the look on their faces.
‘Sarah, would you run after him with the cake?’ Rose said, abruptly.
‘Where is it?’
‘Wrapped up ready in the larder.’
Sarah picked up Jamie’s fallen chair, slipped behind Hannah and Sam and out into the kitchen. A few moments later, they caught a glimpse of her flying past the parlour window.
Rose studied the floral border on her dinner plate and knew there was nothing she could have done, even without Sarah’s intervention. John might have tried to argue. He might have told the story of the Orange intimidation that took away his job with Thomas Scott and forced him to look for any work that would keep them fed. He might have recalled the violence in Belfast when Mary Wylie’s sister, Peggy, saw her young husband killed outside their own front door.
There would have been no point in any of it. He would have dismissed his father’s views as old-fashioned. Only he had the true story, the real insight into the affairs of the day. She thought of the twelve-year-old who’d got them out of a runaway train, carried his little sister when she was exhausted and pumped spring water so vigorously for his thirsty family he’d splashed them all. That was another Jamie in another life. That Jamie was as dead as if he were buried in Grange Churchyard.
Hannah was stacking the dinner plates and John was still staring at the empty place when they heard Sarah come back. They waited silently until she came into the parlour.
‘I’ll never speak to him again,’ she burst out, tears streaming down her face, as she put a well-wrapped package in front of her mother. ‘He didn’t want to take it, and when I said you’d got up early to bake it for him before the roast went in, he took it from me and threw it in the ditch.’