Carrig Of Dromara Read online

  “Would eleven thirty be all right, Mrs Russel?”

  “Yes, that’s fine, thank you.”

  Elenor set off for the city about ten o’clock and returned at two thirty, calling in at the cottage on her return with the good news.

  All the proceeds from the sale of the farm would be equally divided between Elenor and Dennis; and if it was not sold, then an agreement would be settled on either party. Whatever way it went there was no doubt whatsoever that Elenor would have her share of the property, especially in view of the fact that she had done her share of the farm work, including milking, for many years since they first purchased the property and also as half of the finances came from her bank account to purchase it.

  Elenor began nervously: “Dennis told me in Australia that he’d had an affair before we left New Zealand, and that certainly explained a lot of the moodiness and anger directed at me. I really thought I was going to crack up myself, not knowing how to handle it. It was almost a relief to hear him admitting the affair, but that was nothing to the shock of what was to follow. I felt sick with emotion when he told me it was Victoria Purcell with whom he’d been having the affair.”

  Annie gripped the side of her chair with tension, wondering where to go from here. Should she mention that Margaret Purcell had come to see her?

  Almost immediately she burst out with the whole story: “Margaret Purcell came to see me. She was worried about what to do.”

  “What did you say, Annie?”

  “Well, what could I really say? I just told her I would support her in whatever she decided. I certainly couldn’t advise her one way or the other. That would have to be their decision.”

  Peter and Carrig left about seven thirty for home. Carrig still had to finish an essay for school, and Peter had to be in the byre by five thirty the next morning, with Annie, to make a start on the milking.

  Elenor poured a couple of glasses of red wine, and the two women moved closer to the fire and relaxed in more comfortable seats.

  “What about the dishes?”

  Annie turned to Elenor. “What about them?”

  Elenor laughed. “I’m sure they’ll still be there in the morning.”

  “Oh, you can bet your life on that.”

  Annie smiled as she sank into the soft chair, happy now to see Elenor more relaxed.

  “Tell me about Ireland – it’s always been a place I’d love to visit.”

  “We have a lot of visitors come over, looking for work – especially on farms. Oh, well, the climate is a big thing, you know.” Annie began to tell Elenor about the time she met Peter at a railway station, and how it froze in winter and the summers could be so changeable that it was hard to plan a holiday. “I was nursing in England, of course, and then returned to live in Roshane, close to where Peter’s family lived. His father ran the farm, and Mary looked after the poultry – a bit like you do here. She was the mother I never had, and we all got on well together. I loved her like I would have loved my own mother if I’d known her. Did I tell you that I was brought up in an orphanage until I left for England?”

  “Yes, I remember that, Annie. You’ve had a hard life too for someone so young.”

  “Some would think that, but in reality I have been most fortunate to have met the right people and found happiness in my relationships over the years. Meeting Peter and having Carrig, and living in the beautiful Dromara was a dream come true for me, and every day I thank God for all that I have.”

  “Tell me about Martha: who was she?”

  “Oh, well, there’s another great woman – so strong and with a never-changing nature. Mary and she were like sisters, although Mary was a good twenty years older, but they were of the same mind about most things and laughed a lot together. It broke their hearts when Robert died just a few weeks before Carrig was born. Martha used to fill his pocket flask from a stock bottle in the parlour. That would have been the only thing she kept from Mary, to save her worrying. Martha worked at Dromara most of her life, and could turn her hand to almost anything. She knew the place like the back of her hand. I remember one day she worked until dusk to get the hay in before the rain came. She was so tired she could hardly speak, and yet she could still make us all laugh, telling us of the mice in the field. She was terrified they would run up her leg, and she would run a mile at the sight of one. The sadness was unbearable when she lost her husband in the war. Mary looked after her and the two boys, but that was Mary – she just had to have someone to look after.”

  “Tell me about the house. You started to tell me once, but we got waylaid somehow.”

  “It was three storeys high and built of stone. On the ground floor there was a kitchen, pantry, scullery and breakfast room at the back, then at the front of the house was a large hallway with a beautiful tiled floor. The tiles took weeks and weeks to lay. They were so small and in so many different shapes. The parlour was off to one side and the drawing room to the other. These rooms were lavishly furnished with mainly Victorian furniture. The parlour had a large mahogany table and sideboard with elaborate carving and detail. The fire surround was of dark-blue marble with diamond-shaped patterns of pale pink. The firedogs were brass and glistened in the firelight. The drawing room, on the other side, had a piano and a walnut sideboard with a marble top, on top of which sat a large rose bowl filled all summer with fresh roses. I can always remember the smell when I went into the room. Elegant soft furniture, including a hexagonal table which sat in the bay-window area, finished off the room to perfection. On the odd times when the others were away, Martha and I would have our afternoon tea in there and play at being ladies. We would strum out a few wee tunes on the piano. What fun we had! We all loved our life there and worked well together. Christmas was a great time and we all gathered together, including the McNeill brothers, old Dr Martin, Martha and her two boys, who loved Carrig and used to argue about which one would push his pram or hold his hand when he began to walk. We’d all walk to the wee church down the hill and return to a sumptuous meal which the two women had planned for weeks before.” Annie covered her mouth and yawned. “Oh dear, is it that time already?” she said, glancing up at the mantel clock.

  “It’s getting late, Annie. Maybe we should call it a day.”

  The women rose and threw their arms around each other.

  “Don’t you be worrying about a thing. We’ll both be here to support you in the morning – you know that. Everything will be all right – you’ll see.”

  Elenor wished her friend goodnight. “Thank you for everything, and God bless.”

  Annie’s voice faded as she left the big house.

  Peter was awake and up before anyone else; the others followed when they had eaten breakfast. The milk cans were on the stand, and the yard work finished when Bridget came over with wee Daisy by the hand to help with the hens. The cows rushed towards the grass again, and the groups were hosed down before Annie walked towards the cottage.

  Peter finished off the sterilisation of the milking-machine parts, and Annie, heading towards the cottage, spotted Margaret Purcell on the road.

  “How are things with you, Margaret?” she called out to her.

  “Thank goodness it’s all settled down now. I just told people that Victoria had glandular fever, which saved a lot of long explanations. She is going back to school after the holidays, and hopefully that will be an end to it. We can only hope she has learned some sense and gets on with her studies. She is quite a bright girl at school, and this will be her final year.”

  “I’m glad that’s an end to it, Margaret, for your sake.”

  “Thanks for your support, Annie. I couldn’t have done it all without you.”

  “You’d have done the same for me, I’m sure. See you later on.”

  It was six o’clock when His Lordship arrived home. He must have been tired and gone straight to bed. Elenor called in to let them
know His Lordship was full of remorse and begging for her forgiveness.

  “Let him sweat it out, and don’t be too ready to forgive him. After all, this is all his own doing, and he has to play his part in sorting it out.”

  “What should I do, Peter?”

  “Carry on with your work and look after yourself. There’ll be plenty of time to talk later. Get a good night’s sleep and the morrow will look brighter for us all – you’ll see.”

  “I suppose you’ve told Paddy and the missus all about it?”

  “How dare you call Peter Paddy after all this time! Have you any idea how those two souls have helped me over the past months, and especially these last few days? I was sick with worry, and here you are still going on as if you’ve never been away.”

  “All right, all right, that’s enough. I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.” Then in a more serious tone: “I’m really sorry for all that I said. I’m asking you to forgive me for all that I’ve done.”

  Elenor sat in silence for a while, thinking she had never seen him like this before, so maybe there was hope for him yet. For now she would give him the benefit of the doubt. She was in charge of the situation, and it felt good to her, never having felt like that for such a long time. A feeling of freedom came over her, and now that she was assured of her strong financial situation she felt happier than she’d been in years.

  “I’m going to the city, Annie. Would you like to come?” Elenor called out to her across the yard.

  “I’ll have to tell Peter first.”

  Annie thought she was dreaming. She hurried into the house to change into something more suitable – she always picked her best clothing, though she knew she could never compete with Elenor, who always looked like a model when she went out, whether it was to a picnic in the park or a Mozart concert. So she smiled and thought, ‘I must be the happiest person in the world, to have a husband who loves me with all his heart and a son who thinks I’m the greatest mum in the world. What does it matter what I wear to town really?’

  Ten minutes later Elenor emerged from the house looking quite glamorous in a pale-green flowing frock with a blue denim hat and high heels.

  “Right then, young lady, I thought it was about time you and I had a day out, and not be accountable to anyone but ourselves.”

  “Well, I must say, you sound as if you are in charge of things around here.”

  “I certainly am, and intend to keep it that way as long as possible.”

  The two drove away just as Dennis Russel crept sheepishly into the byre. Annie wondered how Peter would have handled the situation, but almost immediately she knew that all would be well. She knew Peter well enough to know that he could deal with anything that came his way. He was that sort of person, and never changed. Where other men would get all steamed up and lash out, Peter would probably stand back with a huge grin on his face and let them get rid of their anger, until the situation settled down, without saying a word. She had seen it work many times, both at Dromara and in New Zealand.

  The day was perfect blue sky and sunshine, although the alps still had a coating of snow. The two women really enjoyed their time together, although Annie had a strong feeling that things for the Russel family were going to change.

  Tomorrow was Friday and Elenor was worried how the children would take it when she told them the news. It had been two weeks since she’d seen them. Their mother had arranged for them to board for two weeks while she and Dennis took a break in Australia.

  “Just tell them the truth, Elenor, just how it is. They’re big enough now to deal with it. They don’t have to know the details of the affair. Carrig and Freddie haven’t been told anything of the situation, although Freddie may have guessed already. All they need to know is that Dennis and you had a bit of a disagreement, and let it go from there. Victoria has had glandular fever, but has now recovered and is back at school again. The rest is up to Dennis and how he deals with the situation. I would have a long chat with him before the children get home tomorrow, if it were me.”

  “Well, I suppose you’ve heard all the gory details by now.”

  Peter answered in his usual calm way: “Oh, now, there’s been a bit of chatter going on, but you know me – in one ear and out the other.”

  “She’s only a little tart, that one – wouldn’t let up, kept on pestering me till I gave in. I’m not saying it was all her fault – it takes two to tango – but believe me she is one to watch!”

  The big man seemed relieved just to talk things over with Peter, and, however briefly it was, just to get it off his chest.

  Peter moved over closer to the big man. “It will sort itself out, one way or the other, you’ll see.”

  Dennis looked at him with tears in his eyes. “Thanks, Peter. And thank you for listening and for keeping an eye on things while we were away.”

  Peter was shocked to see the difference in Dennis’s behaviour, thinking to himself, ‘There’s nothing like a bit of guilt weighing heavily on a man’s conscience to knock the wind out of his sails.’

  Later at dinner Peter said to Annie, “Oh well, if it makes Elenor’s life a bit easier, maybe it’s a good thing it happened.”

  Next afternoon, the five friends ran down towards the river and it was so good to hear their excited voices as they yelled and shouted at each other in the wind. Carrig especially had missed them while they were away. Even Andrew was in a more agreeable frame of mind, and that was saying something. They scoffed a plate of hot pancakes and jam in a flash on their return, and Annie gave a sigh of relief, thinking all would be well again soon.

  Carrig remembered he had to help Wally with the pigs again. Annie made him come back and change into his pig clothes. Annie thought how good it felt not to have to go to the byre and help with the milking. She now had more time to herself and her home work. Elenor had agreed to help with the weekend milking when Peter was off until she could find someone for weekend relief. Peter and Annie drove down to the village, stopping in to tell Carrig where they were.

  “Oh, they’re up the back, at the pig houses, Peter,” Mrs Watson called out from the kitchen window.

  Peter waved to the elderly lady and made his way up to the back of the yard. He could hear Carrig and Wally having a right old yarn to each other, like there was no tomorrow. His heart swelled with pride when he thought of his son and how he had developed into such a great young man, with so many friends who relied on him for support.

  “Oh, Dad, I need two HB pencils and a drawing pad for school, and a manuscript book for music.”

  “Hold on – I’d better write all that down before I forget.”

  Peter took a piece of paper from his pocket and scribbled it down.

  By lunchtime they were discussing what they would do on Sunday.

  “Well, we thought we might go to church,” Annie was first to say. “Reverend Orr called in the other day and reminded me that the service will be taken by a young minister who just happens to be from Northern Ireland. It was nice of him to call, and the least we can do is attend. We can go on into the gardens with a picnic lunch and see the millions of daffodils and bluebells, and you can ask Freddie, if you like, to come with us.”

  Victoria answered the door with a surprised look on her face.

  “Freddie, it’s Carrig with his mother and father.”

  “We’re going to church, and then afterwards for a picnic lunch to the botanical gardens.”

  The boy shot away in a flash to check with his mum.

  “Yes, of course you can go. Put on a clean shirt and a pair of trousers, please; otherwise you will stay at home.”

  Freddie knew better then to disobey his mother, especially at this time.

  “This might help with your lunch – it’s just a bit of leftover fruit.”

  “Thanks, Margaret – just what we need. We should be back mid afternoon
or thereabouts.”

  “I’m Reverend McNeill,” said the pleasant-faced young man with striking good looks, tall and thin with a mop of dark hair. He stood back from the door, holding out his hand to welcome everyone as they entered the wee church.

  Annie spoke to him first and said that the Reverend Orr had mentioned he was from Northern Ireland.

  “That’s right,” he replied, speaking with a broad accent, which brought a tear to Annie’s eye.

  “It’s lovely to meet you. This is my husband, Peter, and son, Carrig. And this is Carrig’s friend Freddie, who lives beside us.”

  “I’m sure we’ll have time to have a chat afterwards – I sincerely hope so,” the Reverend McNeill replied as they moved on down the aisle to their usual seat.

  “I’m so glad we came,” Peter said. “It’s so easy to get caught up in life, that we don’t always give enough time to the more important things.”

  Annie squeezed his hand and whispered the words “I love you.”

  “Me too,” Peter answered.

  Carrig and Freddie really enjoyed it when the minister told several funny stories about Ireland, and Freddie was so pleased when he was asked to take up the collection. One of the ladies asked him quietly and was so pleased when he said he had seen it done before.

  After the service the Reverend McNeill asked if he might call and visit them the following week. “I will ring and make a time, if that’s all right.”

  “I can honestly say I’ve never seen the gardens looking so beautiful,” Annie said as they walked along together.

  There were trees from many different countries, and the magnolias and rhododendrons were resplendent in their pale mauve and purple flowers. Freddie and Carrig picked a spot for lunch by the lake.