How could I leave Bella alone? There is room here, I can continue the teaching, and Bella will feel useful, keeping house for us. Whatever she is able to do. I will have a child, perhaps even two. Bella’s aching heart will at last be at rest.
So. Bella has decided. It is all settled. Brennan will be unhappy. He will, yes, but will be loyal to us, I think. We will always be able to talk. His music won’t come to an end. He will be our friend, and Michael’s groomsman.
Now perhaps we can all be at peace, the gossip and speculation ended. There are much more interesting things to argue over than a marriage.
Pain and Hope
HENRY IS CURIOUS about Rose and Michael; more than curious if he is honest with himself. Worried, too. He would love to be a fly on the wall of the log house. Everyone seems happy. But after the strange flatness of the wedding you couldn’t be sure. On the face of it there is remarkably little difference, before or after the wedding, except that Michael now lives in Bella’s house, and Brennan is gone. Michael whistles and jokes with his friends, and continues to see to supplies for Hanrattys’ and the Miners’ Arms, the two Hanratty guest houses. He has also taken over a business supplying fodder for the horses — above and below ground. This part of the Hanratty enterprise will certainly grow with the opening of the new road and the expansion underground.
Rose continues to teach with the same carefree flair. You couldn’t say Rose was a dedicated teacher. Henry has never caughther preparing a lesson. But she’s good at it nonetheless and the children like her. Rose was back at work on Monday, after the wedding, smiling her open — was it too open? — smile, and changing the subject with a deft wink at any ribald suggestion from other staff. Bella, though — Bella is the one who has blossomed. You’d think she was the one who had married. Henry smiles at the thought. The grand old lady has pink cheeks again. She invites all and sundry into the house to show off the wedding gifts, the china from the Hanrattys, a double-damask tablecloth from Inch Donaldson, her own gift of the marriage bed, which used to be her own, beautifully carved by Con the Brake. Bella has bought herself a new single bed, transported up the Incline for all to see. Rusty and Inch pretended to frown at that but were secretly relieved. Neither would dare go as far as the bedroom with their lady idol.
The wedding was a disappointment, no doubt about that. Henry was surprised — shaken would be more the word — by the chasm caused by Brennan’s sudden disappearance. Michael had made no secret about inviting Brennan to be groomsman. Some thought it insensitive of the lad — cruel even, given Brennan’s obvious feelings — but the three had always been such friends. Perhaps Brennan could put his own infatuation behind him? Henry, watching Brennan going grimly around the town, had doubted it. Whatever the truth of the matter, Michael gave the impression that Brennan’s acceptance was signed and sealed.
On the day of the wedding Henry himself, acting as father of the bride, had ridden to the church with Rose and Bella in Rusty McGill’s new trap. Some sort of horse-drawn vehicle was all the status symbol these days, with the new road about to open. Bows of white ribbon, supplied by Inch, fluttered from the hood, which was drawn up, the weather being cold and blustery. Henry felt dowdy in his best suit, crammed between these resplendent women: Rose in simplecream satin, her mother a mountain of shimmering royal blue. When Rose suddenly asked Rusty to stop, Henry thought she had forgotten something. But it was Brennan. There he was, astride his pony, swag tied to the saddle and cornet on his back, heading for the new road, which was not yet open but easily negotiable on horseback.
Brennan saw her, reined in, and turned to face her. They were not a chain apart, but no words were spoken. Brennan simply raised his hand and
So. Bella has decided. It is all settled. Brennan will be unhappy. He will, yes, but will be loyal to us, I think. We will always be able to talk. His music won’t come to an end. He will be our friend, and Michael’s groomsman.
Now perhaps we can all be at peace, the gossip and speculation ended. There are much more interesting things to argue over than a marriage.
Pain and Hope
HENRY IS CURIOUS about Rose and Michael; more than curious if he is honest with himself. Worried, too. He would love to be a fly on the wall of the log house. Everyone seems happy. But after the strange flatness of the wedding you couldn’t be sure. On the face of it there is remarkably little difference, before or after the wedding, except that Michael now lives in Bella’s house, and Brennan is gone. Michael whistles and jokes with his friends, and continues to see to supplies for Hanrattys’ and the Miners’ Arms, the two Hanratty guest houses. He has also taken over a business supplying fodder for the horses — above and below ground. This part of the Hanratty enterprise will certainly grow with the opening of the new road and the expansion underground.
Rose continues to teach with the same carefree flair. You couldn’t say Rose was a dedicated teacher. Henry has never caughther preparing a lesson. But she’s good at it nonetheless and the children like her. Rose was back at work on Monday, after the wedding, smiling her open — was it too open? — smile, and changing the subject with a deft wink at any ribald suggestion from other staff. Bella, though — Bella is the one who has blossomed. You’d think she was the one who had married. Henry smiles at the thought. The grand old lady has pink cheeks again. She invites all and sundry into the house to show off the wedding gifts, the china from the Hanrattys, a double-damask tablecloth from Inch Donaldson, her own gift of the marriage bed, which used to be her own, beautifully carved by Con the Brake. Bella has bought herself a new single bed, transported up the Incline for all to see. Rusty and Inch pretended to frown at that but were secretly relieved. Neither would dare go as far as the bedroom with their lady idol.
The wedding was a disappointment, no doubt about that. Henry was surprised — shaken would be more the word — by the chasm caused by Brennan’s sudden disappearance. Michael had made no secret about inviting Brennan to be groomsman. Some thought it insensitive of the lad — cruel even, given Brennan’s obvious feelings — but the three had always been such friends. Perhaps Brennan could put his own infatuation behind him? Henry, watching Brennan going grimly around the town, had doubted it. Whatever the truth of the matter, Michael gave the impression that Brennan’s acceptance was signed and sealed.
On the day of the wedding Henry himself, acting as father of the bride, had ridden to the church with Rose and Bella in Rusty McGill’s new trap. Some sort of horse-drawn vehicle was all the status symbol these days, with the new road about to open. Bows of white ribbon, supplied by Inch, fluttered from the hood, which was drawn up, the weather being cold and blustery. Henry felt dowdy in his best suit, crammed between these resplendent women: Rose in simplecream satin, her mother a mountain of shimmering royal blue. When Rose suddenly asked Rusty to stop, Henry thought she had forgotten something. But it was Brennan. There he was, astride his pony, swag tied to the saddle and cornet on his back, heading for the new road, which was not yet open but easily negotiable on horseback.
Brennan saw her, reined in, and turned to face her. They were not a chain apart, but no words were spoken. Brennan simply raised his hand and
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