Blood Brothers Read online

  What real part would she play in Frank’s empire-building, she wondered. Did he expect her to be seen and not heard, while she raised his children like the timid little wife, watching from a distance while he shut her out in the same way her mother had done; as though her opinions didn’t matter?

  Feeling ashamed and guilty for thinking that way, she decided she must give him the benefit of the doubt.

  His attitude tonight had been unfortunate, but it could well have been the drink talking, she thought hopefully. No doubt in the light of day, he would be mortified to know what he had said.

  After deliberating, Alice came to the conclusion that, for better or worse, Frank was her man, and soon she would be his wife. When and if they were ever able to own their own farm, it went without saying that she would surely be involved in any decision making.

  So, with that in mind, she decided that the sensible thing to do was to put Frank’s unfortunate outburst well and truly behind them.

  After all, it had been a wonderful evening; Joe was home, and with all the excitement and the wine, things were said which otherwise, may never have seen the light of day.

  Moreover, because she had put him straight with regard to her parents’ dubious generosity, the subject would probably never arise again. As far as she was concerned, that was an end to it.

  Her thoughts turned to Frank’s brother, Joe.

  Alice saw how Joe had remained silent, carefully listening to Frank, and studying the situation before speaking his mind.

  Alice had been grateful for Joe’s intervention. She appreciated Joe’s quiet, confident approach, which in her opinion had helped to calm a difficult situation this evening.

  She liked Joe. Yes! She liked him a lot.

  Consumed with all manner of thoughts and unable to sleep, she got up from the bed quietly so as not to wake Frank. She was agitated, and for some inexplicable reason, she suddenly felt deeply sad.

  Carefully now, she tiptoed across the landing and into the bathroom; pausing only when she heard what sounded like rhythmic rolls of thunder coming from Nancy and Tom’s room. ‘That’ll be Tom sending home the sheep,’ she thought with a little grin.

  Once inside the bathroom, she cleaned her teeth and had an all-over wash, before going back to the bedroom where she put on her nightgown and brushed her hair.

  Afterwards, she lay on top of the bed; half-dreaming half-thinking, but with not an ounce of tiredness in her body. Instead, she felt unusually restless.

  She had to get out. She needed to breathe the cool night air. ‘Maybe I’ll go to the barn and check to see if the falcon is all right,’ she said softly to herself. Yes! She decided that would be a good thing to do.

  Barefoot and in a hurry, she threw her pink robe around herself, tied the belt tight, turned up the collar and went like a whisper down the stairs and silently out the door.

  Relieved to have got away from the house without waking anyone, she set about negotiating the darkened path to the barn; while underfoot the way was uncomfortable without shoes, yet she seemed not to notice.

  It seemed to take forever, but at last she found herself standing at the barn door. Once there, she carefully lifted the bar, and pushed open the heavy door.

  It was dark inside. ‘Now where did I see Frank put the lamp?’ she muttered to herself. One evening when they came back late from the field together, she had watched as he put the tilly lamp safely away, and she remembered it was up high.

  It was too dark to see. Going up on tiptoe, she ran her hand along the upper wall, and there nearest the window, she found a shelf. Very carefully, for fear she might dislodge something heavy, she gingerly walked her fingers along the shelf, until her hand alighted on a metal object.

  She thought she could feel the iron handle and the glass dome. ‘That’s it!’ Clutching it in her two hands, she brought the object down, giving a sigh of relief when she realised it actually was an old tilly lamp.

  Reaching up again, she found the box of matches, and with the door open she was glad to see how the moon had risen and was shining a low, ghostly light, to help her see what she was doing.

  Carefully now, she raised the glass dome from the top of the lamp and placed it tenderly down. Striking a match along the rough side of the matchbox, she put the flame to the wick.

  Almost at once, the wick spluttered into life and lit the barn with a soft, yellow glow.

  Giving a sigh of relief, Alice now carried the lamp high as she made her way to the far end of the stables.

  Once there, she climbed on to the bales of hay, so she could see the falcon more clearly. ‘Hello, you!’ Thrilled when the bird turned to peer at her through bright, beady eyes, she saw how the mellow light from the lamp appeared to give its feathers a bronze, velvety sheen. ‘Oh, but you really are a magnificent creature!’ In awe, she climbed higher, until she was almost on a level with the cage.

  Leaning on the wooden rail, she stared up at him, amazed by the rich, vibrant colours in his wings, and the strong, clean shape of his head, so perfectly angled, and dark as night.

  She studied him for what seemed an age, her mind and memory drinking in that raw, wild beauty.

  Alice had never been that close to a falcon before.

  It was an experience she would never forget.

  In the farmhouse, Joe lay on the sofa, half awake, contemplating the future. He did his best to shut Alice from his mind, but she clung to him, as though she was touching every nerve and sense in his body. She was like an addiction; the more you had of her, the more you wanted. ‘You’re a damned fool, Joe!’ he hissed. ‘That kind of thinking can only bring unhappiness!’

  For a moment he was alert, sitting up and listening. A short time ago, he thought he heard a noise, but then he put it down to the old creaking floorboards. ‘Best try and get some sleep,’ he assured himself. ‘What with Jimmy being an outcast, I dare say Frank will need all the help he can get tomorrow.’

  Lying down, he drew the blanket up. Then he sat up, got out of bed, and begun pacing the floor again. Twice more he prepared to sleep, and each time, sleep eluded him.

  He made his way to the kitchen, softly so as not to wake anyone. Once there he filled the kettle and put it on to boil. ‘A hot drink,’ he decided, ‘that should help me settle.’

  He made the tea and sat at the table, but still he was unable to settle. All manner of disturbing thoughts raced through his mind, of prison, and the way of life that had driven him almost to the brink of insanity. Prison was a place of destitution, a place where there was no joy, and everyone was out for themselves.

  Some men, like him, may have been innocent of the crime laid against them, but there were others…evil beasts who fed on violence and intimidation. Men who had committed murder and probably worse.

  Things went on behind those walls; bad things that Joe would never again want to witness.

  His thoughts shifted to Frank and how he would have set himself against these men. Joe knew Frank would have given as good as he got in there. Because deep down, he was made out of the same mould.

  In fact, Joe truly believed that if he had not come along when he did, Frank may well have beaten Jimmy to death.

  Sickened by the idea, he made himself think of those two good people who had raised them. Frank did not take after either of their parents, he thought. Nor did he take after their grandparents, because they too, were good folks of old farming stock: honest and sincere, and totally dedicated to their way of life.

  His mind turned again to Frank, and the lovely Alice, who was soon to share Frank’s life, in as intimate a way as a man and woman could be. ‘How did Frank manage to snag a girl like Alice?’ he wondered aloud. Then he remembered Frank could be very persuasive when he set his mind to a purpose.

  He had grown up in Frank’s shadow, and he knew the score. He knew things he had never told anyone; like the time on his third birthday, Frank tied him to a post in the bull’s field, and then pretended to run off and leave him, until t
he bull began to show an interest and Joe became frightened and started crying.

  Frank released him, but not without threatening him, ‘If you say anything to Mum or Dad, I’ll take the horse whip to you!’

  Shutting out the bad memories, Joe took a sip of tea. After the hard work in the field today, he felt bone-tired, yet his mind was still too active for sleep.

  Slouched over the table, he soon decided he must get some rest, or he would be fit for nothing in the morning. Rinsing his cup, he placed it on the drainer.

  As he turned from the sink, he imagined he saw a light somewhere out there in the dark.

  His first thought was a poacher, or one of the gypsies parked in the long grass two miles down the lane. ‘Dammit! They’ll be after the lambs!’ He wondered if he should call the family, but then decided against it. ‘I can handle this,’ he muttered, ‘No point in waking the others.’

  Hurrying to the sitting room, he quickly pulled on his trousers and boots. Grabbing his coat he threw it on over his crumpled shirt. ‘The buggers!’ he kept saying. ‘Thieving buggers!’

  Before rushing out the front door, he reached under the sideboard and drew out his father’s shotgun. Checking it through, he then tucked it under his arm.

  Careful not to alarm the others who were still fast asleep, he softly switched on the porch-light then closed the door before walking along the path. Wary and alert, he was now ready for unwelcome intruders.

  A few minutes later, having located the source of light, he was amazed to see that it was Alice in the barn. He was even more amazed when he saw how she had her hand halfway in the cage, her fingers tenderly stroking the falcon’s wings. The bird made no move to back off. Instead, he had his head turned towards her, as though studying her.

  In all the years he had been growing up on this wonderful farm, Joe had seen many amazing things, but he had never seen a wild bird so close and easy with a human.

  Mesmerised, he remained out of sight, watching and listening; reluctant to let Alice know he was there.

  ‘I’m glad Joe saved you,’ Alice spoke to the bird softly. ‘It would have been so cruel to let you die out there.’

  Having stood the lamp on a safe, upturned metal crate, she sat on the hay bale, her fingers delicately stroking the falcon’s head, while unperturbed, the bird preened his feathers and occasionally trained his glowing eyes on her.

  Oblivious to Joe’s presence, Alice addressed the falcon as though he understood. ‘We’re all looking forward to the village dance,’ she explained. ‘Nancy’s right, when Joe turns out all dressed up in a suit and tie, smiling that deep, quiet smile, the girls won’t be able to take their eyes off him.’

  She mulled over the evening in her mind. She could see herself and Nancy, leaping and dancing, and laughing so much they could not go on.

  She laughed now. ‘You should have seen us.’ Excitedly sharing her joy, she described the evening. ‘Me and Nancy were doing Irish dancing, oh but it was such fun!’ As an after-thought she added sadly, ‘in fact, it was the best fun I’ve ever had.’

  Unaware that Joe was watching her every move, she stretched out her legs and set her feet a tapping. Happy of heart, she giggled at the thought of her mother’s disapproving face. ‘I can’t even imagine what Mother would have said if she’d seen us?’

  In a way, she wished her mother had seen them. That way she would know how the other half lived, and how you could enjoy life and be happy with what you had, rather than be miserable wanting the world.

  She recalled Tom’s remarks about her mother choosing her bouquet. Nancy was so different from her own mother. Alice often felt like she’d been a sorry mistake. Her mother always gave Pauline a free rein on everything, they discussed business, clothes and were generally as thick as thieves.

  Alice had never felt close to her parents.

  Her father was a stern man, who rarely resorted to cuddles or small talk. Unlike his wife, he did not treat Pauline any different from his youngest daughter. He treated them the same; always encouraging obedience as they grew up, and advising them when they were adults. Whenever he had close discussions with his wife, it was always about business and money.

  Alice was fond of her father.

  Her mother though, had caused her much heartache, in that she treated Pauline as her equal, while her youngest daughter was of little consequence.

  Alice opened her heart to the falcon. ‘It was Mother who said I should ask Nancy if I could stay here for a couple of nights.’ She had thought that was a strange thing to do, especially with the wedding so near. Yet she was glad Nancy had said yes. ‘I expect Mother wants me out of the way, while she and Pauline arrange my wedding day.’ That thought gave her little consolation, but if she had complained and been difficult about it, the consequences would no doubt have been uncomfortable.

  ‘Tom was right,’ she declared bitterly. ‘She should not be choosing my bouquet. It was a selfish thing to do.’

  A thought occurred to her. ‘Mother likes to control my life, but I’ve always thought how strange it was, that she never tried to dissuade me from seeing Frank. When I told her I had a boyfriend, she was really pleased. Then, when Frank asked me to marry him, I was sure Mother would hit the roof, but she never did. Not once did she argue about it, or try to put me off. Not even when she discovered he was a farmer’s son, and not a wealthy property owner, or a businessman.’

  She gave a low, cynical laugh. ‘She wouldn’t care who I was marrying, as long as I was out of her way. I’m glad Frank asked me to marry him! He’s a good man. Oh, but if it had been Pauline and not me, who was marrying anyone less than an old money-bags, she’d have thrown a fit.

  ‘It just goes to show that she wants rid of me, even if it means handing me over to someone she believes is beneath her,’ Alice thought uncomfortably.

  Alice had never really thought about it before, but it was strange how her mother let her choose her own husband to be, while she set about making all the decisions with regard to the wedding.

  Her mother had completely taken over the wedding day arangements. She even insisted that Alice changed the dress, because she said it did nothing for her at all, while everyone else thought it was beautiful. Then the bouquet was chosen without her even asking if Alice liked it. And she carried on when Alice wanted two bridesmaids, Pauline and Alice’s old school friend Mandy Baker.

  She mimicked her mother’s sharp, shrill voice. ‘“You’re a selfish girl, Alice Jacobs! The wedding is already costing us a fortune! Think yourself fortunate that you’ve got your sister Pauline as bridesmaid. Now let that be an end to it!”’

  Alice had to explain to Mandy, how she could not be bridesmaid after all. ‘It must be my fault,’ she chided herself now. ‘Somewhere along the way, I’ve allowed it to happen. It’s always been the same; Mother speaks and I listen. Mother chooses and I agree. Mother disapproves, and the idea is eventually dropped; unless of course, it’s Pauline with the idea.’

  She grew angry. ‘It’s time I stood up to her, like Pauline does!’

  She gave a wry little smile. ‘I’ve always known I was the unwelcome child. The accident that should never have happened.’

  Regret tinged her voice. ‘I’ve always tried too hard to please her, to make her love me, like she loves Pauline.’ Her voice broke. ‘I wish I could handle Mother like Pauline does, but then, I don’t enjoy arguing. Pauline seems to thrive on it, which is not surprising, seeing as Pauline is Mother in the making.’

  Silent for a time, she drew pleasure from watching this wild creature; encaged much like she had been all her life. ‘Are you frustrated…locked up in that cage?’ she whispered. ‘I expect you want to spread your wings and fly away.’ Her love of animals embraced all creatures, which was why she found working at the vets to be especially rewarding.

  Curious, the bird cocked its head from side to side, as though taking in her every word.

  ‘You’re the lucky one,’ Alice told him. ‘When Joe lets you out of
here, you can soar up to the Heavens, free as the air that carries you.’ She continued to stroke his neck and face tenderly.

  ‘We’re a lonely pair you and me, aren’t we, eh?’ she remarked. ‘You and me in the dead of night, all alone in this dark old barn.’ She gave a laugh. ‘I hope you realise I should not be out here, cavorting with a strange male,’ she tutted. ‘I’ll have you know, I’m getting married on Saturday.’

  There followed a long silence, and Alice contemplated the future. When she spoke again, it was to voice a sneaking doubt. ‘I hope I’m doing the right thing,’ she confessed in a whisper. ‘I thought I loved Frank, but now I’m not so sure. I’m not even sure if I really know him at all.’

  She leaned back into the hay. ‘What am I saying? Of course I love him. I wouldn’t be with him now if I didn’t love him!’

  The enormity of what she had said was shocking to her. ‘No! Frank means the world to me. I can’t wait for Saturday to come.’

  She remained there, slumped into the hay, eyes closed and head bowed, and her heart sore. Was she fooling herself? Was she marrying Frank just so she had someone to love her? Or was she doing it to get back at her mother for rejecting her? No! She would never do that. She did love Frank! She really did love him!

  The sound of her quiet sobs echoed across the barn.

  Just a few strides away, Joe was torn by emotions. He had heard everything. He felt her pain. He needed to hold and comfort her. He wondered if he should make his presence known, or leave quietly.

  Hesitant, he took a step forward, making as much noise as possible, deliberately allowing Alice time in which to compose herself.

  Startled, Alice looked up, anxious to see who had discovered her there. Fearful that they may have overheard, she quickly sat up, waiting to see who it was out there, in the half-light.

  On realising it was Joe who had found her, she was immensely thankful, feeling instinctively that any snippet he may have overheard would go no further; though of course she hoped he had heard nothing at all.