The Hawthorns Bloom in May by Anne Doughty Read Free Book Online Page A

light to comfort a passing stranger, or someone adrift in the darkness in the cold night hours.
    She shivered and felt her teeth begin to chatter, told herself firmly to get back into bed and put away such desolate thoughts. ‘Think of something pleasant,’ she said to herself, as she slipped cautiously beneath the blankets. ‘Flowers and trees and the song of birds.’
    She tried but it was no good. She lay on her side, her feet two blocks of ice, her arms folded across her breasts, as she felt her body shake and a cold sweat break on her face.
    ‘We’ll divide the ship here,’ the man said, looking up at her, his hands full of stones. ‘An’ we’ll take the first piece down to the bottom an’ come back for th’ other. The doors is locked so you’ll be safe.’
    She looked around in the darkness and saw she was in a boat. It was full of children. At first, she thought she had never seen any of them before. Then, she looked more closely. In the dim light,she caught sight of Hugh and Helen holding each other’s hands, Charley and Billy and little Sammy, Emily and Rose were hunched together with the baby, Bobby, all wrapped up in a white sheet. They were all frightened and so was she. She was sure the water was deep and she knew none of them could swim. What would she do when the men came back for the other piece of the ship to take it down to the bottom?
    ‘Don’t worry yourself, Rose. Sure haven’t we got through worse than this?’
    She heard a familiar voice, felt a touch on her hand and a soft arm slide round her waist. Even without seeing her face, she knew it was Mary Wylie.
    ‘Sure this boat’s unsinkable,’ said Mary, laughing. ‘It’s like you an’ me. We’ll always come back up again. If Mary-Anne didn’t do for us, who could? Will we get out the griddle and make pancakes for the we’ans?’
    There was a sudden threatening rush of sound. Rose woke with a start and heard a shower of sleet rattle fiercely against the bedroom window. In a few moments, it died away and left the room in silence.
    ‘Mary Wylie,’ she said to herself. ‘Oh, my dear Mary, how I wish you’d not died in the rail disaster. You always understood without having to be told. You knew what I was feeling when I didn’t even know myself.’
    She lay still, warm and comfortable now, soothed by the steady rhythm of John’s even breathing. Here and now, at this moment, she was safe. And so was John. And so was her brother Sam. And so were all the children, her own children, Hannah and Sam and Sarah and her little grandchildren, Hugh and Helen. There was nothing to be done about the disasters and disappointments that life brought to everyone. She must give thanks for this moment of warmth and security and the memory of her dear friend, and store it up to give her courage in the future whenever she should need it.
     
    The morning brought more squally showers and intermissions of brilliant light. John left early and promised he’d send a messenger with the Belfast paper. There was nothing to do but get on with her morning’s work until he arrived.
    ‘Missus Hamilton?’
    Rose closed the oven door and straightened up cautiously, her back protesting after the effort of sliding a heavy casserole into position.
    ‘Yes. Yes indeed,’ she said, hurrying towards the young man who stood awkwardly against the doorpost, his waterproof cape dripping from the last heavy shower.
    ‘It’s all bad news, Missus,’ he said, drawing out a folded newspaper from under the cape. ‘Shehit an iceberg and sunk a couple of hours later. There’s fifteen hundred lost and no news yet of who’s saved and who’s drowned,’ he said, handing it to her.
    ‘Desperit business,’ he went on as she unfolded the paper and stood staring at the banner headline.
    ‘Had you anyone on her?’ Rose asked cautiously.
    There was something in the tone of his voice that made her wonder if all the drops of moisture on his face were actually raindrops.
    ‘Aye