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18

Coming of Age

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Sunday, 10th February 1889

The next day would be Brigid’s 21st birthday. She would officially come of age and could legally decide her own destiny – and control her own money without parental control. The situation seemed ludicrous since she’d been doing that for so long, but at least now she was officially grown-up.

Sally and the girls had insisted on a party and decorated the place with flowers and ferns. They’d set the table with the best of everything they owned, and Laura gave Brigid a special present of a matching cup, saucer and plate, which she begged Brigid to open so she could use it at the party.

In one of her bursts of energy, Maggie had baked a fruitcake, which Laura and Jane decorated, and made delicate sandwiches and other sweet goodies. She didn’t say much, but Brigid felt she understood more of what was going on around her than she sometimes let on. But then she’d disappear into her lost world again.

Their surprise guest was Tom Price, returned only that morning from his journey.

“Mr Price, this is a pleasure to see you back so soon.”

Tommy removed his hat and bowed low.

The girls giggled and he winked at them.

“And a pleasure it is to be here, Miss O’Brien. Those new steamships are so quick it fair takes one’s breath away. But I would sail on the wind from anywhere to be at your birthday celebrations.”

With a flourish and the return of the cheeky grin Brigid had missed, he pulled a small parcel from his pocket. “For you, fair lady, with my grateful thanks.”

“Thanks for what exactly, Mr Price?” Brigid took the parcel from him but didn’t immediately open it.

“For putting a fortune my way in the shape of Harrison Browne Drapers, of course.”

Sally hovered around wanting to move the proceedings on. “Do sit down, Mr Price, and join us for some tea and sandwiches.”

“And cake,” said Jane, taking Tommy by the hand and leading him to a chair.

“Thank you, Miss Forsythe, I will. And later in the day, will you join me in a tipple, the two of you? You do still enjoy a glass or two, do you not, Miss Forsythe? And for you, Miss O’Brien, I’ve brought a small bottle of the best sherry from Spain.”

Sally assured him she did enjoy a glass of spirit every now and then, and Brigid blushed. “Shush now. Not in front of the girls.”

The parcel from Tommy sat on the table. Brigid itched to open it but manners dictated she wait until they had finished eating. They chatted amicably about the places Tom had journeyed to, and he teased the girls something awful about the scary things he’d seen.

In due course, Sally asked the girls to clear the table, putting the plates to one side on the dresser.

“We’ll take them downstairs to the kitchen in a wee while, but I think maybe Brigid should open her presents. What do you think, girls?”

“Oh, yes. Now, please.”

Jane rushed off to her room and came back holding a small, flat parcel in her hands. Laura, already having given Brigid her present of matching crockery, hugged her, wished her a happy birthday and sat on the stool beside her.

Tommy moved his chair closer. “Open Jane’s first,” he said, seeing the girl’s excited face.

Brigid inspected the handkerchief Jane had given her. “I made it myself; I did all the embroidery and hemmed it and crocheted the lace around the outside.”

“And a beautiful job you did of it too, Jane, my love. You are a wonderful girl, and I thank you.”

Then Jane gave her a sketch of a gown. “I thought it might be something you could make for yourself.”

Sally looked over Brigid’s shoulder as they studied the sketch together. “That is an amazing design, young miss. I am so proud of you. You have great ideas,” said Brigid.

“Aye, lass you do too,” agreed Sally. “I think Brigid should make it, and I know exactly which fabric she should use.”

“Please, Brigid. Please,” begged Jane.

“How can I say no?”

“You can’t,” they all chorused.

Sally pulled an envelope from her pocket. “This came for you.”

Brigid turned the plain brown envelope over, but there was no return address, just a single stamp and a postmark from a place she’d never heard of. She ripped it open and took the flimsy sheet of paper out.

Turning it over she squealed, “It’s Jamie. It’s from our Jamie,” then flipped back to the beginning.

Dear Breeda,

I am real sorry I have not written before, but I have been on the move a lot. I found work on a sheep farm down in the south island but then times got tough for the farmer and I had to move on. I found work in the mines for a while but couldn’t stand it no longer, so I went and got work on a wee farm a half-day from Christchurch. It’s been right grand it has. And I’ll stay for as long as the farmer wants me. I like it down here, aye. The grass and the mountains and the clean air.

We had an earthquake at the beginning of September that scared everyone silly. I’ve never felt anything like it, Breeda. The ground shook and trembled under our feet, and buildings rattled and crumbled. There were a funny noise too. The new spire on the cathedral in Christchurch was damaged, and people are moaning something dreadful, that they are. The ground rumbled off and on after that for a time, but nothing more was damaged.

Anyways, I’m writing to tell you I met a girl from the neighbour’s farm, and we are to be wed. Wish me a blessing from home, Breeda, for I miss you sorely. And wish me luck. You always were the lucky one, Breeda, but I think some of it has rubbed off on me at last. Write me news if you can. I hope you and the girls are safe and Sally keeps you company. I was verra sorry to have left you – and Maggie – but I couldn’t stand the jitters in my head no more. The city crowded my thinking. All that’s gone now.

Your cousin

Jamie

PS: Tell Maggie I’ll never forget her.

She scanned the page to check he was well, and would read each word he’d written later. “Jamie’s well. He’s got work and he’s found a girl to wed.”

Brigid was on her feet doing a little dance she was that excited, when Maggie came shuffling out of her room. She took Brigid’s hand, put a screwed-up piece of paper into it and folded her fingers over her palm. Brigid looked down, wondering what it could be, and then up at the haggard face hovering inches before her own. Maggie took Brigid’s face between her hands and her eyes bored into Brigid’s – tormented, pain-filled eyes engraved with loss.

No one moved or said anything, in case they broke the spell, or frightened Maggie, waiting to see what would happen next.

Her lips moved and a croaking sound emitted from her throat. “For you.” The muscles of her neck bobbed up and down and she swallowed. “Love you.” Brigid read her lips more than heard the words.

The burning in Brigid’s throat prevented her from saying anything either. She wrapped her arms around Maggie and whispered a thank you into her ear. Just as quickly as she came, Maggie scurried back to her room, leaving everyone bewildered.

Brigid opened her palm and unfolded the paper. She could hardly believe her eyes. Covering her mouth with her hand to stop her lips from trembling, she tried in vain to hold back the tears that rolled down her cheeks.

In her hand lay a brooch: a simple, silver brooch, a common shawl pin of little value, in the shape of a Celtic cross – a St Brigid’s cross – like sheaves of wheat woven together. Her great-grandmother’s brooch, the one she’d lost on the ship so long ago. It didn’t matter now why Maggie had taken it, only that she had returned it. Brigid couldn’t decide whether to laugh or cry. She was happy and sad, full of pity and full of love, and more joyful than she’d ever been.

She looked around the room at the four beaming faces: Laura, Jane, Sally and Tommy. Jamie had reminded her that back home she was considered the lucky one but was too shy to accept it when others said she was accomplished, handsome and big-hearted: an angel in disguise. But whatever her reservations back then, she felt the luckiest girl in the world right now, surrounded by the people she loved and who loved her.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “My heart is full and I can’t tell ye how much you all mean to me. I couldn’t have done any of it without your love.”

A loud knocking on the door downstairs broke the moment.

“Who can that be – and on a Sunday? Don’t they know we’re closed?” said Sally. “I’ll go.”

Within a few moments voices carried up the stairs. Sally was angry and trying not to shout. The other voice Brigid recognised instantly. Dread replaced the elation she had felt only moments earlier.

Sally’s head popped up at the top of the stairs first. “Mr Harrison-Browne to see you, Miss O’Brien,” she announced, formally introducing the unwanted guest. “He refuses to listen to me and insists he sees you now.”

“Thank you, Miss Forsythe.”

Brigid brushed the last of her tears from her face and straightened her spine, ready to greet Philip as soon as he turned to face her.

“Good afternoon to you.”

She gave a quick nod of her head in greeting.

Philip removed his hat and flicked his hair back, which was enough to rouse her suspicions.

“However, as you can see I am entertaining guests and since this is my day of rest, I would ask you to be brief.”

“I shan’t disturb you more than necessary, Miss O’Brien. But I am here with news – favourable news, I hope.” His eyes roved and stopped at Tommy. “Ah, Mr Price. You are the very person I have come to see. Can we discuss business later? Tomorrow, perhaps?”

“At your service, guv’ner.” Tommy sat carelessly in one of the armchairs, legs crossed, a glass in one hand, a cigar in the other. “Tomorrow would suit me very well.” He looked at home – a demeanour Philip could not fail to notice.

Laura and Jane retreated to the far corner near the window, and Sally took her place just behind Brigid’s shoulder.

“I have come to offer you an arrangement.” He reached into his inside coat pocket and pulled out a long document secured with wax seal. It looked important – and legal. Brigid held her breath.

“Don’t you want to know what it is?” His voice was teasing and light-hearted, but she didn’t trust him.

“I’m sure you’ll tell me when you are ready.”

He looked around the room again.

“You’ve made this place quite comfortable. I congratulate you. May I sit?”

Brigid nodded and he pulled out a chair at the table. Brigid and Sally remained standing. He set his hat and the papers down and tapped his fingers on them with an annoying rhythm that kept time with Brigid’s heartbeat.

Moments passed.

“This document is courtesy of my mother. You will be satisfied with its contents, I feel sure, but I did take the liberty to ask my lawyer to prepare another document.”

He flicked his hair back again, and Brigid’s fear she would lose everything resurfaced.

“Aye, and will you tell me what the second set of papers says?”

Philip smiled, not quite confidently, but far more warmly than she’d seen him smile for a long time. “It’s a contract, which I hope you will sign.”

Feeling her knees go wobbly, she perched on the edge of the chair opposite. Sally stood behind with her hands on Brigid’s shoulders.

“A contract, you say? What’s it for?”

“It’s simple really. It says you agree to attend the Harrison Browne Department Store to demonstrate lacemaking and give personal service to selected clients.”

All of a sudden Brigid didn’t feel so lucky anymore. It seemed her luck had changed. “And if I refuse?”

“Then you don’t get this one.” He pushed the larger sealed certificate towards her. “Open it.”

Brigid broke the seal, unfolded the paper and started to read. She needed to rest her arm against the table end to stop herself from shaking. The more she read, the more she shook. Blood pounded in her ears. Sally gasped.

Brigid read to the bottom of the page, then folded it in three again. “Is this a joke?”

“Not at all, my dear Brigid, not at all. My mother insisted, and in light of your good sense and judgment last time we met, I could not, in all conscience, object.”

“So what is the proviso should I accept?”

The second contract in question Philip held between his fingers. He waved it towards her. “Like I said, I want you to sign this contract with me to attend my store.”

Brigid still couldn’t understand what was going on. “How can I do both? Be here in New Zealand as per your mother’s wishes, and in Brisbane at your command at the same time?”

“You’ll find a way, I’m sure.”

By this time, troubled by Brigid’s obvious anxiety, Tommy sat forward. “Is that a threat, I’m hearing?”

Philip turned his head casually towards Tommy. “Not at all, dear chap. More like an opportunity.”

“Doesn’t sound like an opportunity to me. Sounds more like bullying.”

Philip feigned shock. “Is that what you think of me? If that is so, Mr Price, then maybe you and I are not suited to do business with each other.”

Clearly perturbed by the intended slight but prepared to do battle for Brigid nevertheless, Tommy stood up and leaned over the table. “All I’m asking is that you deal fair with Miss O’Brien. Stop the shilly-shallying and get on with it, man. It’s enough to set a man’s teeth on edge to see her so bothered.”

Philip looked genuinely dismayed. “Why should you be bothered, Miss O’Brien? You’ve read the document from my mother – and do enlighten Mr Price here and then maybe he will think more kindly of me – so I fail to understand your concern. This ...” and with that he pushed the envelope holding the second document across the table, “... is a mere bagatelle in comparison.”

Brigid gingerly retrieved the envelope, opened the unsealed flap and removed the contents. Her eyes scanned the document with trepidation. She reached the bottom of the page, and relief engulfed her. The overwhelming urge to laugh and cry at the same time returned.

Sally, reading it from behind, gripped Brigid’s shoulder so tightly she flinched with the pain.

Brigid covered Sally’s hand with her own while she gathered her composure. “Sit down, Mr Price, I beg you,” she said at last. “Mr Harrison-Browne here has been playing games at my expense.” She glared across the table at Philip but was unable to maintain the severe and ill-humoured facade.

Tommy, the only one not in on Philip’s prank, still looked unhappy.

Brigid eased his discomfort. “As he said, Mr Harrison-Browne requires me to attend his department store in Brisbane – but only for one full week, twice a year. In return, Mrs Browne – and I presume it is with Mr Harrison-Browne’s agreement – has gifted me the premises known as ‘Miss Brigid’s’.”

“So will you accept?” laughed Philip.

“Under the circumstances, I believe I shall.”

Tommy extended his hand to Philip. “Forgive me for my assumptions. I do apologise. Can I offer a wee drink as compensation?”

Tommy poured drinks all round. Sally and Brigid hugged one another in disbelief and reassured the girls. What a grand birthday party after all!

Brigid moved towards Philip and placed her hand on his arm. “I cannot thank you enough. I, too, owe you an apology. I doubted you before I had heard your proposal.”

“The pleasure is mine, Miss Brigid. And it is I who should apologise to you. My behaviour last time we met was unforgivable. My only excuse is that I was driven by despair and desperation. Circumstances have changed since then.”

He turned to Sally and Tommy and included them in the rest of his little speech, raising his glass. “A toast to you all. Thanks to Miss O’Brien’s inspired guidance, Mr Price’s salesmanship and service, and Miss Forsythe’s outstanding ability with the accounts, not only is ‘Miss Brigid’s’ thriving but the new Harrison Browne Department Store is also a reality. I invite you all to join me – at your convenience, of course – to participate in its success.”

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Later that evening, after the girls had gone to bed, and the remains of supper had been cleared, Brigid, Sally and Tommy sat in relaxed comfort together, admiring the night sky through the windows. There seemed nothing left to say about Philip’s appearance and astounding gifts.

Brigid fingered the St Brigid’s Cross pin secured to the bodice of her gown. “I’m not sure Maggie remembers this was once mine. I can only assume she stole it in a jealous rage. She used to get them a lot. But I am that pleased to have it back.”

“Aye, poor Maggie,” said Sally. “She’s a troubled soul, all right. I guess she thinks she was giving you something precious whether or not it was hers to give.”

“I will thank her for it again when I think she understands, but I won’t say it was once mine. I will leave her with her delusions.”

“Do you think hearing Jamie’s name again stirred her up?”

Brigid thought about Sally’s suggestion. “Aye, maybe. But I’m right glad to know Jamie is grand and settled now. Makes me feel easier, it does.”

They were talked out, the excitement of the day having sapped their energy and strength, and sat silently with their own thoughts, sharing a nightcap.

“I must take my leave, Miss Brigid,” said Tommy into the quiet. “It’s been a rewarding if unusual day, but one little matter, I believe, was overlooked.”

“Are you sure, Tommy? I can’t think what that might be. We checked and double-checked the contract before I signed. And I do believe Mr Harrison-Browne will be true to his word.”

“Aye, so I do,” agreed Sally. “This time. I think I’m even a little excited by the thought of seeing it myself, even if it does mean returning to Brisbane.”

“So am I,” said Tommy. “And he’ll hold to his word. You will be amazed what he has achieved. But no, it’s naught to do with that.” He took the little parcel he had given Brigid many hours ago, which had lain forgotten and unopened in the furore caused by Philip’s arrival. “It’s this. Would you be so kind as to accept it?”

“Oh, Tommy. I am so sorry. How rude of me.”

She took the parcel, untied the ribbon and unwrapped the paper. The plain black box gave no hint of its contents. Brigid lifted the lid and for the second time that day was propelled into confusion. She looked up to find Tommy at her side, on one knee. That wicked grin of his spread ear to ear, and he struggled to control his laughter. Sally was no better. She bounced up and down on the chair in a most unladylike fashion.

“You told me once you’d walk out with me if I asked you proper. So here I am, asking you proper like. Miss Brigid O’Brien, will you do me the honour of walking out with me?”

He took the Claddagh ring from its box and held it up to Brigid. She took it from him, slipped it on the ring finger of her right hand with the heart pointing inwards – to show her heart had been captured – and threw her arms around his neck, nearly knocking him over in her enthusiasm.

“Mr Thomas Price, I do believe I will.”