Sister's Trio Squad

Chapter 58

Chapter 58

When she came back, Sarah sat down facing her daugh ter. 'Margaret I know it's been a terrible shock. After your Pa was killed I felt as though I didn't want to live either. I felt that the world was a dark and empty place. But I had to carry on because of you children and you'll have to do the same. You've got a treasure in Ellen, she's a good girl. You have your son and whatever you're feeling right now, Ernest does have a point. You can't run a business, about which you know little, and cope with all this! I hate to say it, but I think you should give the man a chance. He might just prove to be a godsend. He is honest and probably is efficient, but I'd watch that madam, I don't trust her an inch! Let Ernest take over the day to day affairs but you keep your eyes on the finances.'

'Oh, Ma, I'm so confused!' 'Of course you are, child."

Margaret reached out and Sarah took her hand. 'Ma, it was so quick. It was all so quick. I still can't believe he's gone. And I didn't have time to tell him how much I did love him. You'll never know just how much that hurts. He gave me everything. Everything!'

'And I suppose you gave him nothing? You gave him your affection, your trust, your loyalty and you gave him a son. Don't you think he knew you loved him? He did, Margaret! It doesn't have to be spoken. In a marriage, actions speak just as loudly and clearly as words. Words can be empty. You've nothing to reproach yourself for.

Now, I'll go up and see Ellen and persuade her to post this letter, although I'll probably be home weeks before it arrives. I'm going to write to the Dáil and complain, that I am! If they can't even get a telegram through on time, then God help the new Ireland! Oh, I wish I could stay longer than just a few weeks, but those two are less able to look after themselves than Ellen. They'd live on stale

bread and cheese, left to themselves. The great eejits!' Margaret managed a weak smile. 'Men are worse than babies, aren't they?"

They are! Of course, it's our fault, it's the way we bring them up! Now you rest, but think what I said about Ernest. At least he's an honest man, even if he is a doormat.'

'Days of Grace' had been running for a month. Every one was raving over it and Nancy had once again found herself being fêted by everyone. Her career had gone from strength to strength. Her life was a whirl of theatre suppers, parties, soirees and guest appearances. London society clamoured to entertain her and she was revelling in it.

Edward watched her with amusement. She was now making him quite a lot of money, but she hadn't really changed. Beneath the radiant smiles, the witty repartee, the glitter and glamour that she surrounded herself with, was an alert mind forever watching for advantageous opportunities. She was still searching, pushing forward, but for what he didn't know and he wondered if she really knew herself. She still used people and he was amazed that Helen Mason had lasted so long as her closest friend. But Helen was no threat to Nancy. In fact, it suited Nancy now to play 'Lady Bountiful' to Helen who was still only in the chorus. In return, Helen was grateful for the comforts of the flat in Bloomsbury and Nancy's cast-off gowns which had been worn once or twice and then discarded. Edward still didn't like the friends Nancy surrounded herself with,

but he took some comfort from the fact that she was too devious and selfish to give her heart to any of the young men who were her constant companions. But he was wor ried about her health. Under the carefully made-up face and the shiny coiffured hair, she was looking tired. Too many late nights, too much champagne, snatched meals and constant work all were taking their toll and it was beginning to show. In private, her temper was very frayed. She was like an exquisite doll, he thought, beautifully dressed with a porcelain complexion and a fixed smile. But a doll that, when carelessly dropped, would shatter into brittle pieces. Nancy lived on her nerves.

When the telegram had arrived informing her of Lewis Vannin's death, she had just got up. She'd called Edward and he'd gone over instantly. She'd looked pale and shocked, the white crepe-de-chine robe with its high, ruffled neck enhancing her pallor.

'Nancy, you look awful!'

'How else do you expect me to look? Glowing with health? I've had three hours' sleep and then . . .' She handed him the telegram and he noticed there were unshed tears in her eyes. 'Margaret never said he was ill? In fact the last time she wrote she said everything was just fine.'

'I phoned before I came over. Apparently there was a fire at the yard. Lewis was kicked by one of his horses as he tried to get the beast out. The wound wasn't attended to and septicaemia set in. There was nothing anyone could do. The funeral is the day after tomorrow."

'Oh, dear God! Poor Margaret!' Nancy reached for her

cigarettes, another habit he disapproved of.

Shall I make the arrangements?" Nancy had started pacing the floor, reminding him of a

caged tiger he'd once seen in Regent's Park Zoo. What arrangements? Oh, I can't think straight! Poor Margaret.'

'You are going?"

She sat down and stubbed out the cigarette. It was making her feel ill anyway and she knew he disapproved. 'I know this is going to sound desperately cruel, Edward, but how can I go? We're booked up for months, we've only been running a few weeks and people are paying to see me, not an understudy!'

He realized she was right, but surely this was one occasion when her heart should overrule her head. 'If you caught the sleeper straight after the show, you could be back in time for the performance next evening. You'd only miss the matinee.'

She ran her fingers through her hair and then pressed the tips of her fingers against her temples. 'Edward, look at me. I'm exhausted! I couldn't do that journey and then go on."

You seem to be able to find the energy to stay up half the night dancing when Freddie Marshalsea throws a party. Margaret needs you! You didn't go to their wedding, the least you can do is go to his funeral.'

'Don't you think I know Margaret needs me? Don't you think I want to be with her, comfort her? I know how she feels!"

'Do you, Nancy?'

She jumped up and began pacing again and he couldn't see her face, but her voice was strangely quiet. 'Yes, I do. I saw my Pa buried and my brother and him only twenty-five years old. Oh, yes, I know how it feels.'

"Then isn't that even more of a reason why you should

go?'

She shook her head violently. 'I can't, Edward! I just can't! Ma will come over and Lisa will go. I'll send a wreath - Margaret will understand.'

Edward caught her by the shoulders, anger flooding his face. I just hope she does, Nancy! And I hope that if you ever need her she'll forget how damned selfish you are! Knowing Margaret, she will. Oh, go