Part 4 (2/2)

Mary Ann felt her mother's fingers suddenly stiffen, and her voice came harsh when she demanded, ”Who told you he was on a six months' trial?”

”Ah, I have me little birds.”

Mary Ann saw them, hordes of them, fighting, screeching little birds, and she willed them to swoop down on her grannie and peck her eyes out. She even saw her grannie being borne to the ground by them, and with deep satisfaction she gazed down on her, pecked to death by her little birds.

Oh ! her grannie. She wished she was dead, she did. Eeh ! ... well, she did.

”Well, you can tell your little birds that the six months' trial is only a figure of speech, he's set for life.”

”Huh ! ” It was a small laugh that spoke volumes. ”I'm glad you think so. But you were always one to

fool yourself. You mark my words, if it isn't one thing it will be another.”

”You hope it will be like that.” Lizzie's voice was very low and came tightly from between her teeth.

”I've no neeS to hope. If I didn't know the man it'd be

different. The first time you let him off the lead it'll be hi-ho for the pubs and 'Get the cans on John Michael'.”

Mary Ann's fingers were hurting, so tightly crushed were they in her mother's hand. There was silence now, but as they neared the main road the sound of the approaching bus came to them, and Mrs. McMullen exclaimed in exasperation, ”It's early, there's another five minutes yet.”

Lizzie said nothing, not even when the bus stopped and she a.s.sisted her mother on to it.

From the platform, Mrs. McMullen turned, and now in a pathetic tone, that immediately caught the sympathy of the listeners in the bus, she said, ”That's it, go and leave me in a. huff. When are you coming down to see me?”

”I don't know.”

”Well!”

The bus moved off, and Lizzie turned quickly away from the sight of her mother's pained countenance. But once in the shelter of the lane she stopped, and stood biting hard on her lip.

When Mary Ann edged close to her she put her arms about her and pressed her head into her waist for a moment, then easing her away again, she stooped and kissed her and looking deep into her eyes she spoke, not of her mother, or of what she haiiasaid, but to Mary Ann's surprise, she used the same words as Mr. Lord had done. ”There won't be much time to talk tomorrow, Mary Ann,” she said. ”Now promise me you'll be a good girl at this school, and you'll learn and make us proud of you.”

The weight of the world was on her again, and more heavily now.

”Promise ... so much depends on you, Mary Ann.”

Mary Ann stared up at her mother, and the look of anxiety she saw deep in Lizzie's eyes forced her to smile wistfully and promise, ”All right, Ma, I will.”

Lizzie kissed her again, and Mary Ann clung to her in an effort to stop the tears from spurting, and when, blinking rapidly, she looked up at her mother, Lizzie laughed and said, ”That bus saved you, it was your turn next. You would have learned of all the things you aren't going to be in that school.”

Mary Ann gave a sniffling, cackling, laugh, and Lizzie, catching hold of her hand again, cried, ”Come on; let's go home.”

So together, like two girls released from a tyrant, they sped down the road, laughing and shouting to each other as they leapt over the puddles.

It was over an extra wide puddle that it happened. Lizzie, with a lift of her arm, was a.s.sisting Mary Ann in a flying leap when she fell. Having been pulled down beside her mother, Mary Ann lay laughing into her hands for a moment. This was mainly to save herself from crying, for the stones had grazed both her legs and the palms of her hands. But she was brought quickly out of her simulated laughter by the sound of a groan from her mother. Lizzie was sitting on the road holding on to her ankle with both hands; her lips were apart, and her teeth were tightly pressed together.

”What's the matter, Ma? Oh! Ma.”

”I-I've hurt my ankle. Help me up.”

Mary Ann, with all her small strength, helped her mother on to her good foot; then watched the colour drain from her face. Terrified, she helped her to hop to the gra.s.s verge, and when Lizzie dropped down on to it and gasped, ”Go-go and get your da,” she replied in a daze, ”Me da?”

”Yes.”

”Oh ! ” After one last look at her mother Mary Ann bounded away, calling, ”Da ! Da !”

She had reached the farmyard when she pulled herself up, and turning, made for the house. Her da would be in the house with the new man. But Mike wasn't in the house. Das.h.i.+ng back into the yard again she ran full tilt into Len, and to her garbled question of, ”Where's me da?” he said, ”In the new barn. But mind, the old boy's there. What's up with you?”

She was gone before he had finished, and when, still yelling, she rounded the outbuildings and came to the front of the new barn, she was confronted by three pairs of eyes and Mr. Lord's voice.

”Stop that noise this moment!”

For once, she took no notice whatever of him, or his orders, but flew to Mike, crying, ”Oh, Da! Da!” The necessity to breathe checked her words, and Mike put in sharply, ”Behave yourself ! ”

”It's me ma . . . she's hurt herself . . . she's lying on the road and she's white!”

After just one second's pause while he stared down at her, Mike was away, and he was out of the gate before her flying legs had carried her half-way across the yard. When the young man caught up with her he called, ”What is it?”

She was so out of puff that she didn't even try to answer. They were on die road now, and in the distance she saw her da raising her ma up with his one good arm. The young man sprinted ahead, and when, panting loudly, she reached the group, he was linking his hand to Mike's to make a seat for her mother.

Lizzie's face was drawn, and she was near tears, and when she exclaimed bitterly, ”For this to happen!” Mary Ann felt, somehow, that she wasn't referring to the pain she was in but the accident's bearing on the morrow.

Walking now behind the two men, the meaning of what her mother's accident meant to her filled her with guilty-consciencestreaked joy: Thejfwouldn't be able to send her the morrow. They couldn't if her ma couldn't walk, could diey?

fffcm its beginning, it had undoubtedly been a day during which the Devil had certainly been master. But once more he had been vanquished; her secret prayers had been answered. What was his power to compare with that of the Holy Family? Hadn't they even brought her grannie here to bring things about? Likely, her grannie had been in the middle of her was.h.i.+ng, or some such, and they had said, ”Get your things on and go and see Lizzie,” because her mother would never have gone up the road if it hadn't been to see her grannie to the bus, would she?

Realising the advantage of possessing such allies as the Holy Family had unconsciously brought to Mary Ann's face an expression which was not in keeping with the events of the moment, and she was not aware that the relief she was feeling had slipped through, until her eyes met Mr. Lord's, where he stood by the gate.

”* * 54 The joy was wiped from her face; she even stopped dead for a moment, brought to a halt, it would seem, by the knowledge in the eyes regarding her. Then as she stared at him an odd thing happened, for out of his head sprouted two horns, and between his thin legs came flicking a tail, a forked tail. Her joy sank; she could feel it draining from her chest, right through her stomach and down her legs. Dread reality was on her again. It was as Father Owen said, the Devil had many guises. And now he had gone into . . . The Lord, and she knew that there was going to be a fight on between him and her amalgamated company of the Holy Family, and for the life of her at this moment she didn't know which side to back, And now it was her da saying, ”There won't be any time in the morning to talk.” He was sitting on her bed and his voice was very low. He looked tired, weary.

”If you're not happy there, you'll tell me, won't you? You'll write? Very likely they'll read your letters. I think they dobut if you're not happy get a letter to me somehow. . . . Look . . . look at me.” He brought her face to his again. ”You really want to go to this school? Tell me the truth now.”

No power of hers brought her head to a sharp nod, nor her voice to say, ”Yes, Da”; it was the combined voices of her ma and Mr. Lord inside which did it. She could still hear Mr. Lord saying airily to her da, ”She'll be all right. She'll be in the care of the guard to London, and a nun will meet the train. I've arranged everything. This is a very unfortunate happening. I wojj^d take her myself, but I hate trains and-” his voice had dropped to a note of regret-”and, of course, it's a pity you can't be spared.” Then on again it had gone, lightly, airily, ”Oh, she'll be all right. Anyway, she must be there for the beginning of term.” And then her mother, holding her hand tightly until the bones hurt, and saying, ”Mr. Lord has made all arrangements. And, darling, if your da should ask you if you still want to go, you'll say yes, won,'t you? You'll say yes.”

She had said it.

Mike stared at her; then shook his head in a bewildered fas.h.i.+on. ”Then why aren't you more happy about it?”

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