Mother’s Only Child

‘Have you any drink on you, Barney?’ he asked desperately, almost as soon as the man was in the door.

‘No, but I’ll get you one, and gladly.’

‘Daddy…‘ Maria chided.

‘Don’t nag me, child,’ Sam pleaded. ‘Not today of all days. I’ll not get through it at all without a drink.’

‘Leave him alone,’ Barney advised Maria at the door. ‘It’s all the poor sod has. You have me. We have each other.’

‘Oh, Barney,’ she said, then gasped as he slipped a hand between her legs.

‘See what he’s missing? What’s a drop of whiskey?’

What indeed? Maria was smiling as she closed the door.

In the cold light of the next day, Maria faced what she had done with Barney and her face flamed with embarrassment. She remembered her abandonment and how she’d given herself so freely that she had begged and pleaded like some sort of wanton. Oh dear Christ, what had she been thinking of? However would she face Barney after this? She’d be barely able to look him in the eye.

Mind, she told herself, as she got up and dressed, he’d probably not want to see her after the exhibition she’d made of herself. Everyone knew that men would take what was on offer, but if the woman was too easy, they’d throw her to one side when they were done with her. And what if there were consequences, she thought in horror, as she went downstairs. The gasp she gave was so audible, it brought Sam’s rheumy eyes to rest on her.

She looked at his dear face and knew if she ever had to tell him she was with child and unmarried the shock would kill him. Barney had said he loved her, but hadn’t mentioned marriage. She knew if she should be pregnant and remain unmarried, rather than display that scandal that would drag Sam through the mud as well, she would throw herself into the Foyle.

She forced herself to smile at her father. ‘Hello, Daddy. How are you feeling?’

‘Badly, child.’

‘Badly?’

‘Aye, inside myself,’ Sam said.

Maria crossed the room and smoothed down the lines on her father’s forehead. ‘I’ll make us some porridge directly,’ she said. ‘It’s Saturday; I have no work today.’

‘I want no porridge,’ Sam said. ‘Just a drop of tea.’

‘Daddy, you must have something,’ Maria admonished.

Sam shook his head. ‘I want nothing, child,’ he said. ‘I couldn’t eat it.’

‘Maybe you’ll feel better when you have the tea taken,’ Maria said, but without much hope. However, she was dismayed when she took the tea over to her father to see his hands shaking so badly, she had to hold the cup steady to prevent it spilling all down him. ‘Maybe you’d pour me a wee glass of whiskey after this,’ he said.

‘Daddy!’

‘To steady myself just,’ Sam said. ‘Go on, be a good girl now. To please your daddy.’

Feeling anything like a good girl, and very much against her better judgement, Maria poured a sizeable measure of whiskey into a glass and gave it to her father. She hadn’t the time or inclination to argue with him, for Saturday was a busy enough day. After breakfast, she’d have to wash and change her father and put all the soiled linen to boil with the rest she had soaking. She also had the remainder of the wash to see to, the house to clean from top to bottom and the shopping to get in. She set to with a will as soon as she’d eaten, intending to work so hard she would drive the incidents of the previous day from her mind.

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