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

thought that me self but I daren't say it. It was like hell let loose when he collared our Michael last week. Mike hadn't been to mass and had been keeping out of his way, and there he was, waiting tor him when he came in to tea.... The things he said! But it only seemed to make Michael worse. And then later his da started on him...."

"But why?" put in Kate.

"Neither you nor Mr. Mullen go to mass, do you?"

"No. But we've always seen to it that the hairns go."

"But why should you make them do something that you don't do yourselves, because you either can't be bothered

or you no longer believe in it? If you went with them it would be different, and then Mr. Mullen might be justified in going for Michael. Oh, what's the good of talking? " Kate ended.

"Aye ... what's the good of talking? You're a new generation, and you've got new ideas. You're deverer than us, you can talk it all out.... But still, in the long run, I can't see it's making you any happier. Well, I'll get away in," she added.

"And by the way'--she turned from the door--'don't you think it's time you got out for a blow? It's weeks since you've been across the doors except at night," she added slyly.

"If you feel like taking Annie around the shops this afternoon I'll pop in and see to Sarah."

Kate smiled.

"Thanks, Mrs. Mullen, it's very good of you. I'll see and let you know."

Left alone, she thought: I can't go before four o'clock, I must see if there's a letter then. Could anything have happened to him? She wouldn't know if there had . she wouldn't hear of it until everyone else did.

She took his last letter from inside her blouse, where it lay dose to her flesh, pricking her with each movement, a constant reminder of him.

Sitting by the fire, she read it again, and it brought him near, into the room. Beloved, Let me kiss you. There! I feel better. I am sitting looking at you;

your eyes are deep blue pools and they are playing their old tricks on me. My darling, it seems years since I really looked into them, but I have hopes that it won't be long now. Things are moving at last. In what direction I can't say, but undoubtedly they are moving; and not before time.

It is only the constant thought of you that has kept me sane these past months in this God-forsaken hole. Imagine, three times thinking that I should see you within a few days, and then leave to be cancelled! I felt I should go mad. Everyone is so fed up, and would welcome orders for France. I long tor orders for anywhere so long as I can break my journey at Newcastle. Do you love me, Kate? Let me hear you say it. Write it, darling; you don't write it enough, some of your letters are constrained . Constrained! Kate gazed into the fire. If he were only here now she wouldn't be constrained, overboard would go every fear. Let there be a child! Let there be two, three 1 || She thrust the letter into her bosom and began to walk up and down the kitchen. The years she had wasted in fooling herself! Empty, empty years. Wliy had she let anything stop them from coming together?

His wife, who was nothing to him, her mother, Annie, her religion .

yes, even her religion, which said this beautiful thing was wrong, this feeling of life that he infused into her by his very presence was sin.

How could anything so fine be bad? She couldn't give herself where she didn't love. Yet they would say it was. Oh, if he were only here.

Rodney 1 Rodney!

Annie came in, loaded down with her basket of groceries. She had an orange in her hand.

"Look, Kate!" she said.

"Mrs. Clarke gave me this."

"Dorrie Clarke?" Kate stared at her, apprehension in her eyes.

"What did she say to you? Did she ask you any questions?"

"She only asked me how I was getting on, and said I was getting a big girl. And she asked about grandma, and said she must come and see her."

"Don't speak to Mrs. Clarke unless you must," said Kate.

"And never tell her anything about me or ... anyone else. If she asks, say you don't know."

"I wouldn't tell her anything, Kate," said Annie, who still carried the memory of a certain Christmas Eve vividly in her mind.

"I didn't want to take the orange, but she made me."

"All right, dear. Only be careful, she's not a nice woman."

"Some of the shops are decorated," said Annie.

"They must be lovely right down Shields," she added wistfully.

Kate tweaked her nose: "All right, I'll take you down later."

"Ooh, Kate 1' Annie put her arms around Kate's waist.

They clung closely for a minute.

"There, now," said Kate.

"Go up with grandma for a while, she must be lonely. Tell her I'll be up as soon as I get the bread in the oven."

At half-past three Kate and Annie were dressed, ready to go out. They stood beside Sarah's bed.

"Sure you'll be all right, ma?" asked Kate, giving a final pat to the pillows.

"You won't be lonely?"

"No, lass, no. I'm glad you're going out for an hour. You're in too much; you're getting pale and thin."

She put up her hand and stroked her daughter's cheek. Kate bent and kissed her.

"We won't be long, we'll be back about six. I've set the tea, and there's some fish cooking in the oven."

"Don't you hurry yourself, it'll be all right. Maggie'll be up, she'll see to