The Journey (38 page)

Lucy could have argued with him, but there would have been no point. Instead she reached up and, placing her hands on his shoulders, she kissed him on the cheek. “Think what you’re doing, Barney,” she pleaded quietly. “We all love you so much.”

For what seemed an age he looked at her, and just for the briefest moment she really believed he was listening. Then he took her by the arm and led her to the door, where he pushed her unceremoniously onto the outer step. One hard, appealing stare, and then he closed the door.

As she walked down the path, Lucy could hear their laughter. “May God forgive you, Barney Davidson,” she whispered.

Climbing into the car she sat for a moment, unsure what to do.

“I saw the woman.” Arthur’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “I wondered if I should come in, and then I thought it best not to.”

“If you’d come in, it would only have made matters worse.”

“What about the woman?”

Lucy shook her head. “She’s the one he’s been seeing. He’s got her in there now, and he’s not in the mood for talking.” She turned to him, a sad little smile on her face. “He almost confided in me,” she revealed. “If that woman hadn’t arrived, he would have talked, I know he would.”

They sat a moment longer; Arthur feeling as though he should go in there and throw her out, and Lucy thinking how low Barney had sunk.

“What’s wrong with him, Arthur?” she asked now. “Why is he doing this?”

Arthur didn’t know any more than she did, although a suspicion lurked at the back of his head. “Maybe we didn’t know him as well as we thought we did,” he answered thoughtfully. “Or maybe he’s pushed himself so hard, and then … your awful tragedy …” He paused, making sure he had not upset her. “Who knows what it takes to turn a man like Barney?”

Lucy had to agree. “We’ve tried,” she murmured. “We couldn’t have tried any harder. Maybe there’ll be an opportunity later on.” She gave a deep sigh. “I don’t know any more.”

“Home then?”

When Lucy nodded, he started the engine, turned the car about, and went down the lane at a leisurely pace. They did not talk. For now, there was too much on their minds.

L
eonard Maitland had welcomed the family into his home, and for a time they had enjoyed his hospitality. When the discussion turned serious, he asked Joanne outright, “So, with the way things are at home, will you and the family still be able to come with me to Boston?”

Joanne looked at her sons, and her heart was breaking. “I’m sure you know what’s happened with Barney?”

Leonard nodded. “I’m sorry.” He was more sorry than she would ever know, he thought, because if he was going to Boston without Barney, he would be going without Joanne. He knew that, even before she told him.

“I’m not sure if we’ll be able to come or not,” Joanne said solemnly. “We so much want to—in fact, we’ve all been so excited about it …”

She would have explained, but Ronnie blurted out: “Tell him the truth, Mother! Tell him how we might have to give up the greatest adventure we’re ever likely to have, and all because my father’s turned into a drunk and a laughing stock.”

“That’s enough!” Now, when Thomas put his hand over his brother’s arm, Ronnie bent his head in shame. “It’s true though, isn’t it?” Getting out of his chair, he strode across the room and ran out of The Manse into the night.

“Go after him, Tom. Take care of him.” Joanne was desolate. As Thomas went to look for his brother, she addressed Leonard with a degree of pride. “I’m sorry we’ve caused you so much concern,” she said. “If you have to look for someone else to help you with the farm in Boston, we will understand.”

Leonard stopped her there. “Joanne, listen to me.” Coming to sit beside her, he spoke with real compassion. “I fully understand what you must all be going through at this time, and I wouldn’t dream of rushing into looking for anyone else.”

“Do you mean that?”

“Of course. We still have a little time. Until then, I’ll assume that Barney is going through some sort of crisis; probably stemming from the idea that he should have saved the child and couldn’t. He’s a good man, and he did his best, that’s all any of us can do.”

“I don’t know if it will turn out all right,” Joanne said. Deep down she feared that Barney had gone so low he might never come back to her. “All I’m saying is, I don’t want you to be hampered in your plans, especially when you’ve been so good to us.”

Outside, Thomas had managed to calm his brother, and when Joanne came out with Susie, the four of them began their way back down the lane. “It’s all gone, hasn’t it?” Ronnie was broken. “Our happy family, our dream … all of us wanting to go to America and start over—all gone.”

Quickening his steps he walked on in front. Thomas kept a close eye on him, while Joanne walked between him and Susie, wondering why her happy, safe little world had been so cruelly shattered.

Inside the house the woman was all over Barney. “You’re not very friendly tonight, are you?” Seated on his knee, she nibbled at his ear. “C’mon. Want to make love, do you?”

Barney didn’t answer. The touch of her skin against his was repugnant to him, and he could smell her boozy breath on his face. “Best not,” he said. “There’s no telling what time the family will be back.” In his mind he could still see Lucy’s downcast face. She had come here to help him, and he had turned her away. What kind of monster was he becoming?

Yet what choice did he have? This was the worst time of his life and he desperately needed his family by him. Instead, for their own sakes, he was deliberately alienating them.

When the door suddenly opened to admit his two sons, Barney was flustered; for a split second he wasn’t sure what to do, but then he knew and with a sore heart he played his part well. “Oh look!” Kissing the woman soundly on the mouth, he pointed to his family who, shocked and disgusted, were now gathered at the door. “It’s my precious family,” he laughed. “Shall we ask them to leave? What d’you think?”

Brazen, the woman sniggered. “A minute later and they might have caught you with your trousers off,” she said.

“Get out of my house!” White-faced, her fists clenched with rage, Joanne rushed toward the woman. “Get out, or I swear to God, I won’t be responsible for my actions!”

Realizing he had tipped Joanne over the edge, Barney clambered to his feet. Taking hold of the woman he told her, “You’d best go.”

“I want you to go with her.” Joanne spoke quietly, but the rage trembled in her voice. She did not look at Barney. She had seen enough. “You’ve gone too far this time,” she told him. “I don’t want you near me any more.” The tears were rising, but she would not let them see.

He hesitated, hating himself, loving her so much it hurt. He wanted to take her in his arms and tell her it was all an act, that he had never stopped wanting her, that he would always love her.

But he couldn’t do that. Instead, he looked at her and drank in her beauty, knowing he might never again hold her in his arms.

“You heard what she said. GET OUT!” Giving Barney a shove, Ronnie sent him sprawling toward the door.

Before Barney could recover, his sons took one arm each and bundled him out of the door; the woman with him.

“What kind of man are you?” Thomas was shocked to his soul by Barney’s inexplicable behavior. “You must know what you’re doing to us all. But it’s done now! You can’t hurt us any more. As far as we’re concerned, the Barney Davidson we knew is gone forever.”

Outside in the cold, with the door to his own house closed against him, Barney was made to realize that at long last, he had earned the cold hatred of the family he adored.
Dear God, what had he done?
Not for the first time he questioned the wisdom of his own behavior.

“Come on, handsome!” The woman grabbed hold of his arm. “Never mind them. Let’s find somewhere to bed down for the night.”

Angry with himself, angry with her, he thrust her away. “Get out of my sight!”

“Well, yer miserable bugger, all I’m doing is trying to cheer yer up!”

Realizing it wasn’t her fault, Barney softened. “You said you have a car waiting?”

“That’s right.” She pointed to the small vehicle tucked into the lane. “There it is.”

Barney took her by the arm and leading her to the car, told the driver, “See she gets home safely, will you?”

The driver, a burly fellow wearing a trilby, gave him a nod. “I got her here, and I’ll get her back,” he said.

Barney helped her into the front seat, and watched them drive away. For a long time, he stood hidden by the window, watching as his sons comforted Joanne. Seeing her sob like that wrenched him apart.

Suddenly, Susie saw him there and running out, she grabbed up a handful of mud and threw it at him, catching him on the neck. “I hate you!” Sobbing uncontrollably, she kept saying it over and over, throwing the mud and telling him, “I hate you, I hate you …”

A moment later, Joanne appeared to put her arm round the girl’s shoulders. “Come away, now.” She looked at Barney, covered in mud, forlorn and haggard, and for a while it seemed she might go to him. But then she said, “I don’t know who you are any more.” Head bowed and with her daughter close, she walked away, and never once looked back.

Barney was a finished man. He saw the curtains close against him, and he remained there until he felt the cold reach right into his bones. Broken, he turned away, and walked on through the night, not knowing where he was going, not caring.

Having talked with Barney’s family, Leonard Maitland set out for a walk across the heath, as he always did at this time of night. “It was a sorry affair,” he thought. Barney had a new life just for the taking, and now it all seemed to be thrown by the wayside. He couldn’t know how fortunate he was, to have a lovely family and a wife like Joanne—so beautiful, hardworking and totally devoted. Leonard would have given anything for such a woman, and here was Barney, casting her aside, like the bloody fool he was!”

He walked on; his usual route was to turn at the spinney and come back by the river. Just then, he saw a figure sitting on the ground. Leonard could hardly believe his eyes. “Barney Davidson! What in God’s name d’you think you’re doing, man?” Coming forward, he leaned down. “Are you all right? Are you ill?” Sitting, arms folded with his back to a tree trunk, Barney was shivering uncontrollably.

Leonard went to help him up, visibly startled when Barney took hold of him. “You have to listen,” Barney pleaded. “You have to help me.”

“Of course I’ll help you. What on earth are you doing out here? Come home with me. We’ll soon get you warmed up and then I’ll run you back to the farm. Heavens above man, you’re like ice!” Taking off his jacket he wrapped it round Barney’s shoulders.

But Barney would not budge. “You don’t understand,” he mumbled. “None of them understand.” Suddenly he was sobbing. “I had to do it, y’see? I had to turn them against me, it was the only way. The booze, the women, the fighting—it was all an act.
I had to do it …
”

When the sobbing took hold and he could no longer speak, Leonard took him gently away.

“Come home with me,” he said compassionately. “Whatever it is, we’ll make it right. I promise.”

Half-supporting, half-carrying him, Leonard took Barney through the night, and when they reached The Manse he settled him on the sofa in front of a roaring fire. “I’ll get a blanket … keep you warm. Then I’ll let your wife and family know that you’re safe,” he told him.

Panicking, Barney stumbled from the sofa and taking hold of Leonard by the collar, he begged him not to tell them. “I can never go with you, but the family can. They mustn’t know about me. Nobody knows, except for Arthur and the doctor, and they are duty bound not to tell.”

When he began fighting for breath and pleading with Leonard not to tell, the older man calmed him. “Very well, Barney, your secret is safe with me, but let me get the blanket, and a hot drink, then we’ll sit and talk, you and me, with no one else to bother us. All right?” He was shocked and saddened by Barney’s situation. Gray-faced and with his eyes all but sunk into his head, Barney looked more ill than Leonard could ever have imagined.

Barney nodded feverishly. “All right, yes, but I need to ask you something …”

“You can ask anything you like,” Leonard promised. “But not until I have you settled and warm.” Lifting Barney’s legs he laid him back onto the cushions before going off to the kitchen. “I’ll be as quick as I can.”