i f6c06dd9cf3fe221 by Unknown (the false prince .TXT) 📕

Resuming the smocking on a frock for Annie, that she

"5

had laid aside when she had begun her reverie, Kate's thoughts wandered lovingly around her daughter and her future. She'd still have to be brought up a Catholic, but not at the Borough Road school, on that she was determined; and, although it would mean a two- or three mile walk there, and perhaps back, every Sunday, she would take her to either Shields or Tyne Dock church; St. David's in the Borough Road and Father O'Malley would see them no more.

A cry from her mother suddenly startled her; Sarah was sitting upright on the saddle, calling out a name, "Stephen! Stephen!"

"Ma!" cried Kate, shaking her gently.

"Wake up! Wake up, dear!"

"Oh!" whispered Sarah, opening her eyes.

"Oh, Innny, Stephen's here."

"You're dreaming, ma. There, lie down." Kate pressed her gently back.

Sarah lay for some minutes staring up at her daughter. There was a look on her face that was new to Kate, a youthful, happy look; but, even as she watched, it died away and Sarah sighed.

"Yes, lass, I've been dreaming."

"You were calling someone named Stephen. Who's Stephen? We don't know anyone by that name, do we?"

"Did I shout that name out?"

"Yes, you've been muttering for some time."

"Dear God! Dear God!" The look of fear that was almost habitual returned to Sarah's eyes.

"It's because I've been thinking lately ... been wondering what I should do. I've been thinking, hinny, that I'm not long for the top."

"Oh, ma, don't talk like that! Your legs will get better, you only need rest.... Please don't say that. Things will be different next year, I'll be able to come and help you. Oh, ma!" Kate stroked her mother's thin, grey hair, and her eyes looked anxious.

Sarah lay for some minutes in silence. Then she said quietly, "Is anyone in? ... Annie, or anyone?"

"No, dear. Annie's gone to the matinee with Rosie. There'll be no one in till five o'clock ... I hope," she added.

Then," said Sarah, " I've got something to tell you, lass. I never meant to tell you, or anyone, I meant it to go to the grave with me.

But somehow, lately, the thought has come to me that you've the right to know. You're sure there's no one about? "

"No, dear."

"Then close the front-room door, lass, and slip the bolt in the back, and bring up your chair."

Somewhat mystified, Kate complied. Taking her mother's hand in hers she waited for her to speak.

"I don't know where to begin, hinny." Sarah's voice had the catch of tears in it. She gazed up at Kate, taking in the warm beauty of this child of hers, wondering vaguely how she could have been born of her.

She licked her lips with the old, nervous habit.

"I think I'd better tell you straight out, if it's got to be said....

Tim isn't your father, Kate!" Anxiously, she watched for some startling change in the face of her daughter.

The pressure of Kate's hand on her mother's remained the same as a moment before. She was conscious only of thinking, I hope Annie doesn't get wet, it is raining so hard. She heard the fire drop, and with it some of the glow faded from the kitchen. The gas would soon have to be lit. Her mother was looking up, searchingly, into her face.

Kate knew she should say something . but what? She hadn't words with which to describe this new surge of happiness, what this revelation meant to her. For as long as she could remember she had hated the thought of Tim Hannigan being her father. But it had been something she was powerless to alter, like being blind or deformed.

The very sight of him always made her recoil, and an early fear of becoming like him had not wholly vanished. But now! Oh, now! This blessed, blessed're lief. "Hinny," said Sarah anxiously, 'you don't mind, do you? "

"Oh, ma!" Kate suddenly laid her face against her mother's.

Sarah put her hand on her hair.

"There, lass ... there! Well, it's out.... But, hinny' she pressed Kate away' ll7 from her--'you'll never tell a soul until I'm gone?...

promise I' Kate promised, but at the same time the desire was in her to tell the world. For to know that Tim Hannigan had no part in her being, that her cousins in Jarrow were not really her cousins, was so uplifting to her spirit that she had the quaint urge to sing and dance really frolic around the kitchen. She remembered short spasms of happiness she had experienced as a child; they had come unbidden, unannounced, called from some central pool of delight that supplied all children, at some time or another, whether they had cause for happiness or not.... At these times her desire had been to run, to feel her feet just flicking the earth.... And now this was the same feeling.

To her mother's surprise she suddenly stood up, flung her arms above her head, and pivoted rapidly two or three times, her full skirt billowing against the kitchen table. Then she flung herself on her knees by the couch and buried her head on her mother's shoulder. They stayed thus, in silence, for some minutes.

After a while Kate began to think more steadily about the matter; questions tumbled into her mind, and she sat up on the chair again, and held her mother's hands once more. "Does he know, ma?" she asked.

"Yes, and no," said Sarah; 'he's always been suspicious. When you were born you were so like your father that he tried to make me admit it.

But once I had done that, I was afraid of what he might do to you. So I've always denied