Forgiving Michael Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-eight

Wiseman's Creek, October, 1873

Norah arrived home three weeks later, her face pale with fatigue, her greying hair dry and dusty. ‘I can't wait to get clean,’ she said wearily.

     ‘Before you even tell us all the news?’ Tom said.

     ‘First things first. I've never felt so grimy in my life. Tis a desert out there, so it is,’ she said as she headed for the outhouse.

     Tom heard her ask William to get the kerosene boiler going so she could have some hot water. 

     Later, with a steaming cup of tea in her hands, her face gleaming from the scrubbing that she had given it, her fresh clothes neat and tidy, she sat at the kitchen table.

     ‘I'm sorry to keep you all in suspense. You know if it had been bad news, I'd not have kept you waiting.’ She laughed and Tom could see that his mother was happier than she'd been in years. ‘Rebecca’s doing well. At least she will be. I think we'll be hearing that she's getting married before too long.’

     ‘I thought she had children already.’ Elizabeth looked surprised.

     ‘She does. Five of them.’ Norah paused while Elizabeth gasped and then told them about Rebecca's years at Wowingong. ‘It's been awful for her but I think she's really learned from it. She's different, softer. I didn't think so when I first arrived but she was hurt because she thought I'd let her down. Once we sorted that out, we got along really well. God really answered my prayers.’

     Norah smiled and her face lit up, the tiredness seeming to drop away. ‘I had to go back to the old man in the post office and tell him what a lovely reunion we'd had for he was worried he'd sent me on a very sad mission.’

     ‘I don't know how you did it, Ma.’ Tom shook his head. He was full of admiration for his mother.

     ‘The best part is I met Nels,’ she continued. ‘He came to the house – shack actually –it made our old place here look like a palace. No front door so the mosquitoes came out of the salt bush at night and swarmed into the place and there were fleas in the mattresses, a plague I'd say. The older children were healthy enough because they'd been eating raw vegetables out of the garden but the little ones were on the verge of scurvy, and Rebecca as well. Hopefully, we sorted out what she needs to do about all that and I think the children will keep her to it. They've a lot of spunk. She called the eldest Thomas and my word, he's a lot like you, son.’

     She paused and patted Tom’s hand fondly. ‘And her daughter, Mabel, well she's the spitting image of her mother, in looks and attitude, so Rebecca will get a good taste of what that's like. But I believe they'll make it now. It was the good Lord's providence that I found her. It meant a lot to her that I went.’

     ‘And this Nels?’ Tom asked.

     ‘He came to visit the day after I got there. He's a very caring young man and I believe just what Rebecca needs. He's quite determined to marry her. She's a little wary but I think she'll come around. She knows she needs someone solid and reliable in her life.  She ought to have learned that from her experience with her father but tis sad how often we repeat history.’

     ‘She's not coming back then?’ Elizabeth said.

     ‘I doubt it. She says she's made a mess out there and she needs to work it out there.  She'll have a lot of criticism to face if she starts going into Forbes. She'll probably never get in good with some of the locals but Nels doesn't care. He's had to face that himself just because he's a foreigner in their eyes… although heaven knows we're all foreigners, aren't we?’

     ‘Sounds to me like she's done some growing up,’ Tom nodded. He was glad for his sister, and really happy for his mother. 

     ‘We have some news too, Ma,’ he grinned wryly.

     ‘Good, I hope. I only want good news this year.’

     ‘Very good,’ he began. 

     ‘But you have to wait ’til tomorrow,’ Elizabeth said quickly. ‘Ma wants to be here when we tell you.’

     ‘You're having another baby?’ Norah guessed.

     ‘Perhaps, but we're not quite sure about that yet.’ Tom's eyes lit up.

     ‘Harriet then? Or one of your brothers, Elizabeth? Someone must be having a baby.’ Norah persisted.

     ‘We've not heard if any of them are having another baby yet.’ Elizabeth laughed.

     ‘Well, it must be Annie then. Is she getting married to one of those Quinn boys?  She's always over there from what Kathryn says, and she's convinced it's not only to play aunt to Isabel's little ones.’

     ‘Ma, stop. We haven't heard that news either, although it's quite likely on the cards.’

      Norah thought for a moment. Her eyes lit up. ‘It's Joseph, isn't it? He's going to work with you, isn't he?’ Then she stopped and thought again. ‘But why would Kathryn need to be here to hear that?’

     Tom and Elizabeth both shook their heads and laughed loudly. ‘You'll just have to wait and see. It's only one night. You've had to wait a lot longer for most of your good news over the years. Now, who's for another cup of tea?’ Elizabeth clapped her hands together gleefully.

Norah sat, stunned, while Kathryn told her about the stealing of the brooch.

     ‘Dear God, have mercy,’ Norah gasped when Kathryn had finished. ‘I'm so ashamed.  I'm so sorry. Tom, I thought you said it was good news.’

     ‘It is, Ma,’ he said, and proceeded to tell her how he got the brooch back. 

     She sat for a long moment after he had finished, trying to take it all in.

     ‘I'm shocked,’ she said at last. ‘I'm so sad to think what your father stole from Hamlet. Poor man. No wonder it's been so hard for him all these years. And you, Kathryn, why did you not tell me? How could you bear to have me in your life…after what my husband did?’

     ‘You were my dearest friend, Norah. I knew you had no knowledge of what Michael had done and I wasn't going to let it come between us. And I knew if I told you, it would be that much harder for you to deal with Michael. Hamlet and I agreed it was best not to say anything. We had no hope of getting the brooch back…until Tom found out about it.  He's been wonderful. We're so grateful.’

     ‘Well, I'm thrilled about you getting it back. And it's so beautiful,’ Norah added, her eyes going to the brooch which Elizabeth had produced and put on as Tom had told his story.

     ‘So God has answered quite a few prayers in this last few weeks, hasn't He, Norah?’ Kathryn reached for her hand. 

     ‘He certainly has.’ Norah shook her head. ‘I can hardly believe it all.’

     ‘There is one more thing, Ma,’ Tom said, grinning.

     ‘Please, I'm not sure I can take any more.’

     ‘You'll be able to take this. Joseph is going to work with me at the railway. He starts next week, and he might even move back in here with us.’

     Norah was speechless. Tears rolled down her cheeks and she fell into Kathryn's embrace.

The following day, Joseph came home. Norah hardly recognised him. He had obviously bathed and chopped at his hair, which was now a shock of coffee coloured waves, pushed back from his forehead. He had a youthful beard, which was also trimmed. His clothes had been washed, of sorts, Norah noticed, although they were still raggy. And most of the mud had been scraped from his battered boots. 

     ‘You've grown up, just as I prayed you would.’   

     ‘I've been taller than you for a long time, Ma.’ He grinned cheekily.

     ‘Yes, taller, Joseph, but not grown up. Not until now. I'm so glad you're here. So very glad.’

     She hugged him for the second time since he’d walked in the door. When he stood back, looking slightly uncomfortable, she said. ‘But tell me, how is your brother? How is Mick? It must have been a hard experience for him in Sydney. Do you think he's learned his lesson?’ Norah was hopeful, buoyed by all that had happened recently.

     ‘I'm not sure about that, Ma.’ He looked at Tom for a moment and after registering the nod from his brother, he repeated what had been reported to him by Mick about his time in the city.

     ‘When he and Pa woke up in the alley in Sydney, they knew they'd been robbed, of course. Pa apparently went berserk. Mick said he could hardly hold him down. He ran down the street cursin' and screamin', thrashin' about like a madman. Which is what the two policemen who finally held him down said he was. He'd knocked over three people and badly hurt one woman who was carryin' a baby at the time. Then he ran like crazy across the street and caused a horse to rear up. The rider got thrown to the ground. He wasn't hurt too bad but he was so angry with Pa that the two of 'em ended up in a fist fight. The other man was much younger an' pretty easily overpowered Pa. That's when the police caught him and took him away. Mick said he kicked and punched at 'em all the way to the police station, an' then made such a scene in the lock up that the magistrate ordered him taken to George Street Asylum.’

     Joseph paused when he saw Norah’s face blanche. When she nodded for him to continue, he went on.

     ‘They were goin' to assess him there when he calmed down. Mick was put in the lock up overnight while the police tried to make sense of what was goin' on. He was so afraid of being locked away himself that he cooperated with the police and said he didn't know what had set Pa off, that the old man had shown signs of losin' his mind for quite a while. They let Mick go and he spent a couple of days of sleepin' in alleys and eatin' out of garbage bins before he went back to the asylum. He said Pa was sittin' in a chair, just starin' into space. A nurse told Mick it was the drugs he'd been given, that they'd take him off it soon and see how sane he was. Mick was really scared. When he went back the next day, they let Pa out and the two of 'em hightailed it back here as fast as they could. Then they took off for up north.’

     ‘Mick went with Michael again?’ Norah asked, disappointed.

     ‘I told 'em I was goin' to stay here and get work on the railways. They both called me a few nasty names, but then they said I could suit myself…and they left. I worry about Mick but he's fifteen now. I can't be lookin' after him any longer.’

     ‘No, Joseph, that's not your job. It was mine…and your father's. You must let him go now.’ Norah's eyes welled up. She knew she was talking to herself as much as her son.

     ‘He's really crazy, you know…Pa is. He'll end up in trouble again sooner or later.’

     ‘Yes I know that, Joseph.’

     ‘But Mick will have to learn the hard way now.’

     ‘He's been doing that already, I think.’ Norah sighed. ‘I just hope and pray he learns some good things along the way, for he's surely learning a lot of bad things. But I can do no more at the moment than pray for him. Right now, I'm just giving thanks for you, and for Rebecca. You did hear about your sister, didn't you?’

     Joseph nodded, a slight grin softening his rugged face.

     ‘I've you to thank for that, Joseph. If you hadn't come to tell me where she was I'd be none the wiser. So thank you so much.’ She reached across the table and took his hands, squeezing them warmly.

     He made no attempt to remove his hands from hers, and even under the tanned, whiskered face she could see him blushing. Her son was home. Reticent and weary, but home.     

Tom realised that Joseph had kept one part of the story from their mother and thought it was right to do so. A shiver of dread crept up his spine as he recalled Joseph's fear about Mick’s final words to Joseph.

     ‘This is not over,’ he’d said. ‘If my brother still thinks I'm stupid, he has another thing coming.’

     Tom was determined to put it to the back of his mind, at least for now. It was time for celebrating and enjoying the good things that had come into their lives, especially his mother's life, for she deserved every moment of joy possible.

The following year was a parade of new babies. Both Kathryn's daughters-in-law as well as Harriet gave birth again before the middle of the year and in August Elizabeth had her third daughter. It had been another difficult birth and a slow recovery for Elizabeth, although Norah guessed that part of her daughter-in-law's lethargy following the baby's arrival was her disappointment that she hadn't given birth to a son as both Isabel and Harriet had. 

     ‘I'm so pleased they've called this one Rebecca.’ Norah and Kathryn were exchanging baby news. ‘Tis a sign that Tom has been able to forgive his sister. He was very angry with her for all those years after she ran off. He knew how much it was hurting me. But he wasn't really surprised that she had to find her own way in the world. She was far too headstrong to grow up gracefully…or compliantly.’  

     Norah chuckled softly, rocking baby Rebecca in her arms. ‘Let's hope this one is a little more like her mother or father in nature.’

     ‘She'll be beautiful. Already is,’ Kathryn cooed. ‘This grandparenting is such a lovely time in our lives, isn't it? I intend to enjoy every minute of it.’

     'Yes, you should, Kathryn. I'm very contented right now, too. All is not perfect, but I feel very blessed. I've just a couple more requests of the good Lord that I hope He'll grant me this side of heaven.'

          


To be continued... 


Carol Preston

http://www.carolpreston.com.au
http://www.amazon.com/author/carolpreston
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Forgiving Michael Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-four

Wiseman's Creek, March, 1872

Tom and Elizabeth arrived home resolute. The thought of Tom going away from her, even for a few days, was distressing for Elizabeth but she accepted that he was determined to right the wrong his father had done to hers so many years before. Her heart lifted as they approached the gate of their home. Tom had planted honeysuckle against the eastern wall and it was now climbing over the verandah and still laden with sweet smelling blooms. There were native buttercups and daisies in the front yard and hydrangeas which had displayed a rainbow of colour all through the summer. Elizabeth sighed with delight. She was very proud of her husband, who constantly went out of his way to make life better for her. She hated seeing him worrying about this business of his father's ravings. But now they knew what it was about, she was sure that Tom would sort it out. 

     ‘Do you think your Ma knows about the safe deposit box?’ she said as they pulled up out front.

     ‘No. Ma never knew what Pa was up to. She didn't want to. It disturbed her too much. You saw how she was about me using the gold from Pa's coat. I doubt your mother has ever mentioned to her that Pa stole from them. I won't tell her what I'm going to do just yet. She'll only worry.’

     ‘I'm beginning to see just how much you are like your mother, Tom.’

     ‘Oh?’

     ‘You both want to make the world right for everyone.’

     ‘At least we can make it a little better, Lizzie. This brooch means a great deal to your father. And he wants to see you have it…and it would be for our Catherine later on.  That's worth trying to bring about, isn't it?’

     ‘I love you for that, Tom, but we don't know for sure if that's what's in the safe deposit box. Let's not get too carried away.’ She took his hand as they walked into the house.

 Over the next few weeks Elizabeth began to feel the weight of her pregnancy. She was folding clothes in the parlour late one afternoon, when there was a knock on the door.  When she opened it, she was shocked and her arm instinctively went around her stomach protectively. 

     ‘Joseph! My goodness. Your Ma will be glad to see you.’

     She stopped short as Mick came up behind his brother. She wondered for a panicky moment if their father might also be hiding out of view. Her relief was palpable when the two boys stepped inside the door and she could see there was no one behind them. 

She was aghast at how dirty they were and she wondered how she would get the smell out of the parlour when they had gone.

     ‘So what have you been up to?’ she asked, her suspicion hardly veiled. 

     They accepted her offer of a glass of lemonade, but she could see by the scowls on their faces, that they were in no mood for hospitality. As she poured them a drink, she was hoping they wouldn't sit in the large soft armchairs that Tom had bought so she and he could sink into them in the evening and read the papers. She had covered them with new cloth and had been careful that William and Theresa didn't climb into them with sticky hands. The thought of Joseph and Mick dropping into them, made her shudder. 

     ‘Not much,’ Joseph mumbled in answer to her question. 

     Norah came into the room, clearly beside herself with the joy of seeing her boys. She hadn't seen Mick since the night of the fire over three years before and she looked him up and down, her eyes wide with shock. He was thirteen now and as tall as her. 

     ‘How are you?’ she asked, her lip trembling as she spoke. 

     Elizabeth excused herself to check on Catherine, knowing the boys would more easily talk to their mother. 

     ‘Are you eating well enough?’ she heard Norah ask as she left the room.

Norah could see that her boys were not looking after themselves well at all. Their general appearance was unkempt. They were heavily tanned and the skin on their faces looked leathery and creased with grime. She couldn't imagine what might be living in their hair and she would have dearly loved to boil and mend their clothes. But she knew they would have none of it. They seemed to be visiting reluctantly, especially Mick, who kept casting his eyes about the room, as if scanning for some opponent who might jump out at him. She wondered what was really going on behind their uncomfortable attempts at conversation, their veiled questions about Tom. She was well aware of the hostility they had developed towards him over the years as he had tried to make them conform to his idea of productive young men. But she rather hoped that now they were doing what they wanted, they might be less contemptuous of their brother. 

     ‘He's working on the railway,’ she told them. ‘Working very hard to look after us all,’ she added, and then realised that it probably sounded more like a criticism of them than praise of their brother. 

     Mick did little more than grunt and Joseph nodded nervously after all her remarks, until he eventually asked what time Tom usually came home. Having established that he might be there within the hour the boys left hastily, as if they were afraid they might run into him. Joseph let his mother hug him and he awkwardly patted her shoulder. Mick stayed back from her and nodded his goodbyes without a sign of warmth. Neither of them had said very much at all in the twenty minutes they had been there and Norah was left with an uneasy feeling. She sensed they were in a hurry and wondered if their father was waiting somewhere for them, ready to get up to no good. Please God, she prayed silently, please look after them, for I don't know who else can.

     ‘What did they want?’ Elizabeth asked, coming back into the parlour, carrying Catherine in her arms.  

     ‘I'm not sure,’ Norah said. ‘They obviously don't want me to know what they're doing. The only thing I found out is that they've been out Sofala way for much of the time since I last saw Joseph. They say the diggings are still all right out there. Now they're back at Sunny Corner it seems. I'd like to think they're making their own living, even if it is digging for gold. Tis better than other things they might be up to, sure it is.’

     Elizabeth nodded, her face creased with concern.   

The track from the campsite where the rail line to Bathurst was being constructed was heavily wooded. It was nearly dark by the time Tom started for home. The days on the line were long and hard and he was always pleased to be heading home, ready for a quiet evening with his family. He loved to help Lizzie get Catherine settled for the night and now that she was so far along in her pregnancy, he had been watching her carefully, anxious that she wasn't making herself too tired. 

     The sudden explosion from the bushes took him completely by surprise. His horse reared up, shaken by the commotion. Tom came off the back of the animal with a thud and his head swirled in semi darkness. He was only vaguely aware of arms pulling and pushing him, rolling him over, grabbing at his clothes. As he faded in and out of consciousness, he looked up into the dark, hairy faces of three men, all with hats pulled low over their foreheads and rag masks drawn over their mouths and noses. They were shadowy, bulky, their voices more grunts than words. He was rolled so that he was face down, his head pushed into the dirt. For a moment, he thought he was going to suffocate. Then he heard a distressed whinny from his horse and realised the hands on him had gone.

     There was the muffled sound of retreating thumps as the men ran off into the surrounding bushland. He pulled himself slowly to his feet, pushing his hair back from his face. His hat, which had flown off as he had fallen, was a few feet away. Reaching out in the fading light he grabbed it and jammed it onto his head. He brushed down his clothes and looked about. His horse stood about twelve feet away, under the spreading branches of a gum tree. As he walked slowly towards her, his voice soothing her, lest she got spooked again and took off, he saw that his saddle bags were gone. Blasted thieves probably assumed he was on his way into Bathurst from the gold fields, he thought. They would be disappointed when they searched the saddle bags, for there was little in them but his tin lunch box, a tin cup for the tea that the workers boiled each day by the side of the rail, and the scarf he pulled around his face to keep the dust from his mouth when they were driving picks into the sandstone. As he climbed back onto the horse, his left hip smarted, probably bruised from the fall or the pummelling that he had received.  He rode quickly toward home in case the thieves decided they would have another go at him.

     His mother opened the door and gasped. She reached up to his grazed face and then looked down at his dishevelled clothes. Even though he worked in rocky, harsh conditions, he always straightened himself up and washed his face before he came home, so he could not blame his work. Nor could he hide his limp as he made his way into the parlour.   

     ‘What on earth happened to you?’ Norah cried.

     ‘Don't worry. I had a fall. My horse got spooked along the track and threw me. I'm fine, Ma.’ He saw no need to worry his family with the details.

     Elizabeth brought him a bowl of soap and warm water, looking him up and down with a deep frown. As she gently bathed his face, Norah left them to continue with the dinner preparations.

     ‘Your brothers were here,’ Elizabeth said quietly.

     ‘Both of them?’ Tom’s stomach lurched.

     ‘Yes. They didn't stay long, and they didn't say much but apparently indicated to your mother that they've been up north around Sofala…gold mining is what she'd like to believe.’

     ‘I don't like them coming here. I don't trust Pa. Do you think he was lurking about?’

     ‘Who knows? I doubt he'd risk being seen. I reckon a lot of people would like to get hold of him. But I think it's time you went to Sydney and got the safe deposit box sorted out. I know it's playing on your mind and I’ll be relieved when it’s done. It'll be hard to tell your Ma but...’

     She stopped speaking abruptly as Tom began to pat down his coat and trouser pockets, gently at first and then more roughly.

     ‘What is it?’ she asked. ‘Are you hurt somewhere else? I noticed you limping – ’

     ‘No, I'm not hurt. A bit of a bruise to the hip I think. It's not that.’ He sat back, shaking his head. ‘My wallet’s gone. It was in my pocket, this one inside my vest. I keep it there because it's well hidden. It had my rail workers card in it and …the key. I thought it would be safest to keep it with me, in case Pa came looking for it. It's gone.  Those thieves must have grabbed it when they rolled me – ’

     ‘What thieves?’ Elizabeth dropped the wash cloth into the bowl. ‘You didn't fall, did you? I knew it was something else. Why did you not say? Did they hurt you badly?’

     ‘Honestly, they didn't. It was just a shock when the horse reared up and I fell. It took my breath away for a bit. I felt them rolling me about but I didn't think they'd got at my pockets. Dear God, Lizzie, they'll probably not be interested in that key, might even throw it away. They'd have been looking for money or gold. They took the saddlebags, but there was little in them. Dear God, what now?’ He pushed his hands through his hair, his frustration tearing at his stomach.

     ‘You two ready for your dinner?’ Norah called. 

     Elizabeth patted his face softly, encouraging him to find a weak smile and they joined the family at the table.

     Later that night they lay, unsleeping, squeezing each other's hands, offering words of consolation in short bursts before lapsing into a restless quiet. 

     ‘Tom, I've been wondering. Do you think it's possible that those men who robbed you were…your brothers and your father?’

     ‘What? Oh, no, why would you say that?’  

     ‘They didn't seem to have a purpose for the visit and it's unlikely they just dropped in to be sociable. I kept feeling they were up to something. They left here about an hour before you came home. It's possible that they waited for you, isn't it?’

     ‘Looking for the key, you mean?’

     ‘Why not? They may have figured you'd keep it on you and just wanted to find out when you'd be coming home so they could get you alone. It’s not a pleasant thought, but possible.’

     Tom didn't answer for a long time. His mind was reeling. ‘I'll go past the spot they jumped me in the morning and see if there's anything about. Maybe they just dumped the wallet and bag when there was nothing they wanted…if it were thieves looking for gold, I mean.’ He prayed that's what they were but it wasn't hard to believe Lizzie was right. His own brothers! It was almost too awful to consider. 

The following evening, Tom came home dispirited. He told his mother he’d a hard day at work. She picked Catherine up from the rug on the floor and called the other children outside in the fading light, leaving him to talk with his wife.

     ‘I found the saddle bags and the wallet,’ he said. ‘Not fifty feet from the spot, in some bushes.’

     ‘And?’

     ‘Everything still in them…except for the key.’

     ‘Then it was them?’

     ‘I found this neckchief close to the track. It could have come off one of them in the tussle.’ He held out a deep blue rag, soiled and torn. 

     Norah nodded silently. She had seen it on Mick's neck the day before. Tom shook his head and gritted his teeth.

     ‘It was stupid of me to keep it in my pocket,’ he hissed.

     ‘Well, if they hadn't found it they might have come back here. Or your father might have come, and goodness knows what might have happened. It seems to me he's desperate to get it back.’

     Tom said silently, nodding and trying to gather his thoughts.

     ‘Now they'll likely go to Sydney and claim the box,’ Elizabeth went on. ‘Perhaps we have to let it go, Tom. I don't want you or our family in danger over this. It's just a brooch after all. The money's likely long gone and you have to be prepared that what's in that box is not what you and my father are hoping for.’

     ‘It means a lot to your father. And it meant a lot to him that I was going to get it back.  Now what'll he think? I don't want that hostility between us again.’

     ‘Pa won't blame you for this. It'll be fine, you'll see.’

The next visit with Kathryn and Hamlet was for the most part a happy affair. Hamlet spent much of the day enjoying his grandchildren. Apart from the few times he was spotted in the afternoon sitting alone in a corner with a far away look on his face, he was definitely more like his old self, easygoing and helpful. He had taken in what Tom had to report with a solemn face, his hands alternatively fisting and flexing. 

     ‘I'm not giving up, Hamlet,’ Tom assured him. ‘I'll find out what Pa intends to do with the key, one way or another.’

     ‘I think your Pa derives some sick glee out of holding onto something that's mine just to cause me sorrow. Though God knows what I ever did to arouse his anger towards me.’

     ‘Initially he probably stole from you just because he can't help himself, like you've always said,’ Tom said. ‘But I suspect he became angry with you for the same reason that he turned away from me. Because I disapproved of him…disagreed with him. He can't bear that. He hates to see that others think themselves better than him.’

     ‘It's not better than him that I felt, Tom. I just know that a man makes choices in his life and having made a few bad ones, I woke up to myself. Your father's gone on making bad decisions all his life. Any fool can see that.’

     ‘I know. It makes me sick to my stomach that he's my father. And what he's doing to my brothers make me angry every time I think about it. Sooner or later, we'll bring him to account. I do swear that.’

     ‘I know you're trying to do the right thing, Tom. I see that now. I'm sorry I doubted you. But I don't want you in danger, for your sake and for my daughter's sake. I'm guessing that your father is happy enough to have the key back in his possession. He'd have no need to have the contents of the box with him, as long as it's not back in my hands. I'm sure that's how his mind would work. So you just be careful, right?’

Thankfully, in the last week of June, Elizabeth's baby was born without the trauma which had accompanied her first experience of birth. With great relief and pleasure, Tom presented his second daughter, Marianne, to his young brother and sister. Norah helped the midwife bath and resettle Elizabeth, who was exhausted, and a little disappointed that she had not given Tom a son this time. Late that evening, Tom sat with his mother in the parlour, contented and thankful. 

     ‘You can relax now, Ma. It's all over and it wasn't nearly as bad as I was thinking it might be, thank the Lord. Why are you looking so worried?’

     ‘I was thinking of Rebecca, actually. Praying for her. Wondering if she's been through this…had a baby, I mean. I do believe I'll find her one day, son. I just wish I could be there for her now. Whatever's going on in her life, I'm sure there'll have been some hard times.’

     ‘Hopefully, she's growing up. That's what being out on her own will do, I'm sure of it.’

     ‘I doubt she's on her own. She was determined to find someone…to pay her a lot of attention, if not to love her. I feel I let her down so badly.’

     ‘No, Ma, you didn't. I know you won't give up on her, but I do hate to see you so sad.’

     ‘I'm not sad, Tom. Really I'm not. I keep trusting, and I've your beautiful wee girls to keep my hopes up. I must be strong for William and Theresa as well. They need a happy home. A better home than you and the boys had growing up.’

     ‘Oh, Ma, it wasn't your fault.’ His heart went out to her.

     ‘I'm not giving up on Joseph and Mick, either, so I'm not,’ she went on quickly.

     ‘No one could ever accuse you of giving up, Ma.’ He crossed the room and hugged her warmly.

     In spite of her worries, he thought that she looked so much better these days. There was a lightness about her step and her face was relaxed and rounded. Her coppery hair was streaked with grey, but soft around her cheeks. His memories of her struggling in the tiny hut of his youth, so often looking strained and tired, working her fingers to the bone, still pierced his heart. She would live out her days in comfort, he determined, for he would see to it himself. He had two wonderful women in his life to care for now, as well as his beautiful daughters. He had much to be thankful for and he was.

     But the unfinished business that he had with his brothers and his father had given him many sleepless nights as he’d pondered how he could bring about the resolution that he wanted so badly. As if reading his thoughts, his mother interrupted them.

     ‘Do you think you're father's all right, Tom? I mean, the way Joseph talked that day in Kelso, it really did sound like he's losing his mind.’

     ‘I've no doubt he's crazy. But that's likely to make little difference to how he behaves.  He's been like that for years. Believe me, if it gets too hard to be with him, Mick and Joseph will come back. They know you'd welcome them…not that I'd have them here as they were before. They'd have to settle down and work hard. I'll not encourage them in the life Pa's led.’

     ‘I know, son, and you're right, sure you are. Tis a mother's heart that forgives the unforgivable…and God's. But I know they must change their ways. I pray for them every day, I do. And I trust that in time we'll be proud of them. I just have to live to see it.’

     ‘You've a lot of life left in you yet, Ma.’ He laughed, loving her deeply and wishing she didn't have the heartache her husband and sons had brought her. 

To be continued...

Carol Preston

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