Hannah didn’t get to baking the cake she had planned next morning. She finished making up the fire, swept the hearth and brought out her baking board, but just as she was about to put it on the kitchen table and start work, she heard voices outside. She listened for a moment and then heard Dermot thanking the children for giving Neddy such a good grooming before they went off to play with their friends.
Through the window, Hannah saw the children run off down the hill leaving Dermot standing looking at a scrap of paper he’d taken from his pocket. He was patting Neddy and looking thoughtful.
Probably the names of a couple more people who had nothing much to eat, she thought to herself, as she went and put the baking board back in its place at the side of the dresser.
Once Neddy was harnessed, Dermot would not want to pause for long, so she went to meet him at the door, already sure that he’d been using his very sharp eye for growing hardship. He was always quick to note the disappearance of any clothing with a bit of weight in it. When he saw that particular change in a woman’s dress, he’d then look for the telltale sharpness of the nose and the dark smudges below the eyes. That was how he knew that either the family hadn’t enough to eat, or that the woman in particular was not taking her full share of what food they had, but was giving some of it to the children, or even to an old person living with them.
Hannah knew that often enough he managed a casual question to a neighbour to confirm his observations, but as time went on he’d grown more confident. Now, he would simply come and tell her what he’d seen and what he thought.
Moments later, on this late August morning, the air already sharp with frost, she stood looking up at him before he began his day’s work.
‘Maybe they sold their turf to pay the rent,’ he said, after he’d told her about passing the open door of a family that didn’t have a fire. ‘And come to think of it now, there wasn’t even the smell of a fire about that house. There was a kind of dampness around it when I walked over as close as I could, without looking nosy.’
‘I’m sure you’re right, Dermot. Just add them to the list straight away. We’ve still got enough in the kitty to cover a few more and I’m expecting Jonathan, the man from the Quakers, sometime soon,’ she said reassuringly. ‘He’ll already know about the state of the potatoes and if I know him, he’ll have worked out something to keep us going.’
‘Aye well, sure there’s not much hope for anythin’ from the main crop, not after what happened to the early. If the main goes the same way and the winter is any way hard it’ll be desperate bad news for everyone,’ he added, shaking his head. ‘There’s some I hear has been gettin’ a bit of help from these public works, as they call them, but sure now they say the Government is goin’ to close them. They don’t pay much, but sure there’s thousands and thousands of people has nothin’ else to look to.’
‘Yes, I’ve heard that too, Dermot. We may have to see if we can get more help for ourselves. Maybe we’ll have to write again to the people we sent the pictures to after the holiday school. We might have to admit things are no better and then ask them if they can help us a little.’
‘Aye well. You’ll always think of somethin’ if I know you,’ he said nodding abruptly. ‘Now I must away on, for I’ll have to pick up an extra bit of flour, or meal, or whatever I can lay hands on, wherever I can find it. Will I tell whichever man it is, to send you the bill?’
‘No, you won’t need to do that,’ she reassured him. ‘You can call on your way with my Scottish friend. I saw her last week so she’ll have cash ready for you. Do you remember her? Catriona Ross at Ramelton?’
‘Oh yes, I remember that lady all right. Indeed I do,’ he said, nodding and beaming.
Catriona went to the bank regularly to draw money from Hannah’s School Fund so she could provide Dermot with cash for the relevant merchant. What had made him smile, was remembering the way she always counted out the coins at least twice, if not three times, to make sure she’d made no mistake.
*
Hannah waved Dermot goodbye and came back gratefully to the fire, preoccupied by the sudden remembrance of all she’d heard about the prospect of a very bad winter.
She felt sure that some of the people she’d heard speak about it were just repeating what they’d already heard, but there were others who referred to the very bad year of 1838. They had drawn some parallels with the unusual weather conditions that marked that year.
Distracted as she was by her talk with Dermot, she picked up her sewing and sat down by the fire, her baking board forgotten. Within minutes, she found herself doing sums in her head, something she’d always been good at in her school days. Thinking of Catriona reminded her of the sizable sum in the School Account. Most of it had come from that extraordinary affair of the drunken harvesters, but there had also been regular deposits from those good folk in the Yorkshire mills. They had been most regular in giving their penny a week. But, for how long might that continue?
There were other small donations too, a few dollars here and few more there, but these were not regular and might well disappear if things went on as they were going.
In most of what she had read or heard from John, it had been assumed that the potato crop would not fail a second time. But all the signs so far were that it had. It was true that other crops were perfectly normal, but having food available that one couldn’t buy, because one had no money, was hardly going to solve the problem.
She was so preoccupied with her calculations that the fire began to sink low. Suddenly she felt the chill from the open door.
‘Now then, Hannah, don’t neglect the fire,’ she said to herself, as she shivered in the cold air.
As she stood up, she caught sight of a tall figure striding up the rocky path, the tails of his coat flapping with the speed of his progress.
‘Well, well,’ she said to herself. ‘You come most carefully upon your hour,’ she whispered. ‘Jonathan Hancock, I presume,’ she added, smiling, as she made up the fire quickly before he arrived.
*
She went to the door to greet him and was surprised to find him looking distinctly cheerful. She’d always thought he had a handsome, yet very sombre face, but today that certainly didn’t apply. As she held out her hand in greeting, she wondered if today it was perhaps her own face that was looking rather sombre.
Having walked so fast, Jonathan was not at all cold, but he admitted easily that he was thirsty and would indeed be grateful for the mug of tea she offered.
‘Good,’ she replied, ‘that means I can have one myself, and we can finish off the prize-giving biscuits,’ she said, grateful she had suddenly remembered them.
He settled himself by the fire and watched her move around, making the tea. She put the last of the biscuits on a plate, placed it on a stool and set it between the two armchairs by the fire.
‘Do I detect a story behind these biscuits?’ he asked, looking directly at her.
‘You do indeed,’ she said, returning his gaze. ‘Perhaps if I tell you the story of the prize biscuits you will tell me why you are looking so much happier than usual, despite the bad news we probably both have to share.
To her great surprise he coloured slightly and looked so sheepish she began to guess what he had to tell her.
‘You were right,’ he said abruptly. ‘I told Sarah Hamilton how I felt about her, one glorious summer’s day when we walked together under the trees on The Mall, in Armagh. I don’t think I shall ever forget it …’
‘And …’ she prompted, when he stopped.
‘She has given me her promise.’
‘To marry you?’ she said, wanting to be quite sure that the news really was as good as she’d now begun to hope.
‘Yes, to marry me. She knows about my wife. She knows the doctors say she will not recover her mind but she may remain well in body. I’ve accepted that if she finds someone else who wants to marry her then I will have to give her my blessing and let her go. But you were right, just knowing how we both feel now is such joy. While we both live we do have hope and it so changes everything. And without your wise words, Hannah, I would not have ventured. I couldn’t have found my way if you hadn’t spoken,’ he said, shaking his head vigorously.
‘I’m so happy for you, Jonathan,’ she said clasping her hands together. ‘Please, may I tell Patrick? No one else, of course, but Patrick will understand and be as pleased as I am. After all, he had to wait three years before he felt he could speak for me. Though, fairly I was much younger.’
‘It has made such a difference to me, Hannah. Just knowing that she cares about me. I have never felt like this before. Does it show?’
‘Yes, it does,’ she said, nodding. ‘But probably only to someone who has seen you when you were sad. I don’t think you need be afraid that you’re wearing your heart on your sleeve.’
‘I’m glad of that,’ he said. ‘It might seem sadly out of place in such a difficult time.’
‘But that hope you now have will bring you encouragement for the work you do. And it will give her strength as well. If things go badly for us in Ardtur I shall think of you both and I’ll wish you well.’
‘I only have one problem now, Hannah,’ he said, composing his face as best he could.
‘And what is that?’ she asked cautiously, wondering if he could be teasing her.
‘How am I going to manage to keep my good spirits under control when we have to talk about matters practical … and make provision for what may be a bad winter into the bargain?’
‘Perhaps your good news is sent to help us both,’ she offered thoughtfully. ‘We could look on it as an unexpected donation that we can call upon when we most need it. What do you think?’
‘I think that is just what we need.’ He nodded. ‘I do have some good news, and indeed I have do have some bad, but our biggest problem will be if we have to cope with something unexpected. That really troubles me, but perhaps if we are both brave and speak of the worst that can happen then we will have the courage to try for the best. What do you think?’
‘I think we need pencils and paper,’ she replied promptly. ‘Then we can write down anything that comes to us, good or bad, so that when we write to each other we’ll have something there already, even if we don’t need it. Wouldn’t that be better than the other way around?’
They moved across to the table and it quickly began to look as if their good spirits did speed the work. What also emerged was that they now both had a good idea of how the other’s mind worked. Hannah knew when to interrupt and ensure that Jonathan spelt out the details that he had omitted. He, in his turn, was familiar with her sudden silences. They always occurred when she’d suddenly see something he’d overlooked and for the moment didn’t know how to put it to him.
There was a lot to think about. By the time Hannah insisted that they make a break for a bite to eat, there were sheets of paper spread all over the kitchen table.
*
They had lunch by the fire, went back to the table afterwards and were still sitting there, making further notes, when Dermot appeared leading Neddy by his halter, Rose and Sam walking one on each side of the empty cart.
‘Jonathan, I’d like you to meet Dermot before you go,’ Hannah said quietly, as they saw the small procession pass in front of the house, on the way to the barn.
‘He’ll come in when the children start grooming Neddy,’ she explained. ‘He’s been asking about the fishing boat and I know he’ll feel easier if he hears the news on that from you. He’s been so good with distributing the food. He’s done so much more, way beyond the call of duty, as one might say, to make sure he finds anyone in need. But I know he’s longing to be back at sea again.’
‘I can only tell him the truth, Hannah. D’you not think it might discourage him?’ he said, looking more like his sombre self. ‘As I told you, it will be November before the new Quaker Central Relief Committee is set up in Dublin and it will surely be a few more weeks before they find two suitable people to come up here and assess the overall food situation.’
‘But how can they do that in winter, if we’re talking about fish?’ Hannah protested.
To her surprise, Jonathan laughed.
‘Hannah dear, assessors don’t have to go and count fish, they have to find someone they know they can trust to ask about fish. They will probably already have made enquiries by letter. They just need to verify what’s been said so that the funds can be allocated.’
*
‘Dermot, this is Jonathan Hancock,’ Hannah said, getting up and going towards him, the moment she saw him appear at the door.
‘Pleased t’meet ye, sir,’ Dermot said, looking awkward as they shook hands.
‘And I’m glad to meet you, Dermot,’ said Jonathan, shaking his hand firmly. ‘And I do have some good news for you, but there’s some bad news as well. Let’s have the bad news first, shall we?’ he said easily, as Dermot joined them at the table.
‘I’m afraid the bad news is that it might be December before we get the go-ahead on the fishing boats, although the first one is just about ready. The real problem I’m afraid is that there are so few Quakers in Ireland.’
‘Sure from what I heerd, I thought there must be a whole lot of yers,’ Dermot replied, looking quite amazed.
Jonathan shook his head sadly. ‘The only reason we’ve been able to help as much as we have so far, is that we are already organised to help each other. To begin with we couldn’t provide much in the way of money ourselves, but we’ve had great help from Friends in America and many other places. The money for the boats, Dermot, actually comes from Nova Scotia, from Scottish emigrants long settled there.
‘And, speaking of money. Here it is. I knew I’d put it somewhere safe,’ he said, as he extracted three crumpled envelopes from his back pocket.
He handed Dermot a small envelope in which coins chinked and a larger brown one with his own name on it.
‘Our usual terms for one of Johnny’s pictures: a little for him, and rather more for his family,’ Jonathan began. ‘The picture that went to America helped to raise £500 in Fort Wayne, Indiana, from a group of Irish emigrants, one of whom had already made contact with the Quakers in Dublin. That’ll buy a lot of meal and flour,’ he said, passing over the plain white envelope to Hannah.
Dermot shook his head and looked sad.
‘An’ to think that I tried to get him a job as a servant,’ he said, looking really dejected. ‘May God forgive me.’
‘Well, I think you could say that He has. Don’t you agree, Hannah?’ said Jonathan quietly. ‘You acted for the best – you were thinking of your family, not of yourself. If you hadn’t acted when you did then Johnny’s pictures might not have been recognised. The Lord works in mysterious ways,’ he added smiling.
‘Aye,’ replied Dermot, ‘an it was you that said, “No we’ll not sell them. We’ll give them away and then see what comes.” That was your faith, sir, and sure with that behind us, Hannah and Patrick and I can keep this valley fed, and maybe, indeed, we’ll soon be able to give them little fishes to have with their bread, whether its wheaten bread, or corn bread, or even barley loaves,’ he added, smiling for the first time that afternoon.