Farmers lifted sleepy children onto their shoulders and mothers wrapped their shawls around themselves as they made their way back home across the fields. Michael fell onto his bed, muscles aching, heart pounding, the horses quiet below.
CHAPTER 10
Lonesome Times
MRS ELIZABETH ROWAN WAS UPSET . She wept as she said goodbye to her now-married daughter, and waved sadly as Roxanne and Fletcher’s carriage turned in the driveway and headed out through the open gates, leaving Rushton behind.
‘I don’t think I can bear it, Peggy, I miss her so much already,’ she said as Peggy poured her a cup of coffee, the rich brown liquid filling the white china cup.
‘I understand how you feel, Ma’am,’ said Peggy shyly.
Kitty had gone on ahead of her new mistress, escorting the wedding gifts and some special pieces of furniture from her home that Roxanne’s parents had insisted she keep. Peggy was feeling mighty lonesome herself, now that her best friend had gone.
‘The best thing is to keep busy, visit people, visitnew places, that’s what my friends have told me. Perhaps my husband and I will go and visit Roxanne when she’s settled.’
‘I’m sure she’d love that, Ma’am. It’d be a chance for you to see her house and get to know Baltimore a bit better.’
‘Yes, indeed!’ Mrs Rowan sipped the coffee daintily. ‘We’ll give her time to settle in though.’
There was a fruit tart and a tray of honey biscuits baking in the oven. Mrs O’Connor was relieved that the fuss and flurry of the wedding was over and that things had returned to normal, at least in the kitchen. Of course, the mistress wasn’t herself – all broody and tense and tearful and barely eating a pick, no matter how fine a meal was served up to her.
And as for Peggy O’Driscoll – it was as if the young maid had had her left arm cut off! She no longer sang or hummed as she went about her work. At night she would sit in the kitchen curled up reading a book, joining in conversation only when Mrs O’Connor or Eliza Whitman deliberately asked her a question.
Mrs O’Connor was anxious about Peggy. The departure of her friend had taken all the spark out of the girl. They would replace that young one Kitty eventually, of course, but that might take time. Peggy was due a day off, thought Mrs O’Connor, perhaps that would cheer her up a bit. She could visit some of herIrish friends; it might put a bit of colour back in her cheeks and sparkle in her eyes.
* * *
Peggy strode along Russell Avenue. The sun beat down on her back and on her straw bonnet. The heat of the pavement seeped up through the light shoe-leather. It was another scorcher. The sky above her was blue and cloudless. Back home when she was young, herself and her big sister Eily used to lie on the grass in their field and make pictures out of the clouds, telling each other stories, as the soft white shapes rolled across the sky above them. But here the summer sky was cruel, the sun blazing down relentlessly.
Peggy crossed the narrow street and made her way to the dreary entrance of the apartment building where Sarah lived with her two brothers. She climbed the depressing, dirty stairs, hitching up her skirt so as to avoid the dust and peeling plasterwork.
Sarah’s landing was clean and swept, and the linoleum washed. The long, narrow window was open and the glass – well, as far as Sarah could reach – was polished. Peggy knocked on the door. Sarah’s brother, John, opened it and smiled warmly when he saw her.
‘It’s Peggy, Sarah!’ he called.
‘I’ll be out in a second, Peggy, sit ye down. I’m just finishing getting dressed.’
Peggy sat on the round, squashy armchair. A mauve throw-over covered it in a vain attempt to disguise the ripped arm where the stuffing protruded. Looking around the large room, Peggy guessed that Sarah had been up since early morning, tidying. The clothes rail had been folded away and the circular table covered with a lace tablecloth and
CHAPTER 10
Lonesome Times
MRS ELIZABETH ROWAN WAS UPSET . She wept as she said goodbye to her now-married daughter, and waved sadly as Roxanne and Fletcher’s carriage turned in the driveway and headed out through the open gates, leaving Rushton behind.
‘I don’t think I can bear it, Peggy, I miss her so much already,’ she said as Peggy poured her a cup of coffee, the rich brown liquid filling the white china cup.
‘I understand how you feel, Ma’am,’ said Peggy shyly.
Kitty had gone on ahead of her new mistress, escorting the wedding gifts and some special pieces of furniture from her home that Roxanne’s parents had insisted she keep. Peggy was feeling mighty lonesome herself, now that her best friend had gone.
‘The best thing is to keep busy, visit people, visitnew places, that’s what my friends have told me. Perhaps my husband and I will go and visit Roxanne when she’s settled.’
‘I’m sure she’d love that, Ma’am. It’d be a chance for you to see her house and get to know Baltimore a bit better.’
‘Yes, indeed!’ Mrs Rowan sipped the coffee daintily. ‘We’ll give her time to settle in though.’
There was a fruit tart and a tray of honey biscuits baking in the oven. Mrs O’Connor was relieved that the fuss and flurry of the wedding was over and that things had returned to normal, at least in the kitchen. Of course, the mistress wasn’t herself – all broody and tense and tearful and barely eating a pick, no matter how fine a meal was served up to her.
And as for Peggy O’Driscoll – it was as if the young maid had had her left arm cut off! She no longer sang or hummed as she went about her work. At night she would sit in the kitchen curled up reading a book, joining in conversation only when Mrs O’Connor or Eliza Whitman deliberately asked her a question.
Mrs O’Connor was anxious about Peggy. The departure of her friend had taken all the spark out of the girl. They would replace that young one Kitty eventually, of course, but that might take time. Peggy was due a day off, thought Mrs O’Connor, perhaps that would cheer her up a bit. She could visit some of herIrish friends; it might put a bit of colour back in her cheeks and sparkle in her eyes.
* * *
Peggy strode along Russell Avenue. The sun beat down on her back and on her straw bonnet. The heat of the pavement seeped up through the light shoe-leather. It was another scorcher. The sky above her was blue and cloudless. Back home when she was young, herself and her big sister Eily used to lie on the grass in their field and make pictures out of the clouds, telling each other stories, as the soft white shapes rolled across the sky above them. But here the summer sky was cruel, the sun blazing down relentlessly.
Peggy crossed the narrow street and made her way to the dreary entrance of the apartment building where Sarah lived with her two brothers. She climbed the depressing, dirty stairs, hitching up her skirt so as to avoid the dust and peeling plasterwork.
Sarah’s landing was clean and swept, and the linoleum washed. The long, narrow window was open and the glass – well, as far as Sarah could reach – was polished. Peggy knocked on the door. Sarah’s brother, John, opened it and smiled warmly when he saw her.
‘It’s Peggy, Sarah!’ he called.
‘I’ll be out in a second, Peggy, sit ye down. I’m just finishing getting dressed.’
Peggy sat on the round, squashy armchair. A mauve throw-over covered it in a vain attempt to disguise the ripped arm where the stuffing protruded. Looking around the large room, Peggy guessed that Sarah had been up since early morning, tidying. The clothes rail had been folded away and the circular table covered with a lace tablecloth and
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