Chapter 9

"PLEASE turn down the radio," said Maisie politely.

Sissy paled and Ian stood up quick, Lamby backed out of the room. From the kitchen came the sounds of a mighty struggle. Ian arched his back and let his shoulders drop-on the alert. So did the cat. Bunce raised his head and looked questioningly at the old lady.

Deirdre screamed, seemed to take a deep breath and scream again. It sounded between screams as if a body were being thrown to the floor, against the walls, and into the furniture. "God, Mary, and St. Patrick, come to my aid now!" yelled Deirdre. "My Da's gone loco and cracked, it's bediviled he is this instant, 'tis his reason's disordered!"

"'Tis no reason of mine that's disordered," came the answer. "A fine thing it is indeed a daughter of mine, the likes of you, contrivin' and makin' sheep's eyes and gettin' yourself big with my grandson, faith, a bastard, bad cess to your high-falutin ways and highty-tighty nothin's too good for me blather!"

"Me is it!" screamed Deirdre.

The sound of a hand come down hard silenced her. "That's for your impudence, me pretty, don't plague me, I'll be killin' ye--"

"Do ye hear him now, my own Da!" sobbed Deirdre noisily. "He'll destroy and mortify me!"

"It's yourself as destroyed ye and me your old Da, faith, is mortified to be sure, it's a nasty slut ye are and not fit to raise a bairn."

Deirdre came running into the living room, her face swollen, her clothes disordered, her mouth crushed. "Help!" she cried and staggered toward Ian. "I swear on a pale moon I'm innocent and it's my Da's as drunk as could be this day, God save us all from calamity."

"Come down off your high horse, miss," said Maisie, sternly.

"Cut the comedy," said Lamby who had had her shot and, fortified, come back.

Deirdre appealed to Sissy, "To be sure it's only a wee bit pregnant I am and my Da is to murder me for that, a poor girl in a strange land as Mary and St. Patrick well know, to be sure, as innocent as a new wee lamb I am that; saints and all preserve us this day, faith, it's the truth, mum."

"Calm yourself, Deirdre," said Sissy, "I'm sure that something..."

"Mother of God, the taypot's a-whistlin'," yelled Deirdre and she raced to the kitchen.

There was no doubt about, although no one who was anyone, busy with his own or her own interests, had noted, Deirdre's pregnancy. Deirdre, as Daisy had been, was a minor character, a bit player in this theatre, introduced, perhaps, to alleviate the tension of too much privileged tragedy. Easy come, easy go, Daisy and Deirdre did just that. No one wanted another homicide in the kitchen or in the bathroom and Deirdre was dispatched with two weeks' pay and a short reference almost before she could dry her tears... "This girl is honest and clean"; there seemed no need to dwell on her tendency to become pregnant-live and let live. Well.

"Who do you suppose?" said Lamby.

"I don't know and I don't care," said Sissy crossly. "Really," she thought, "sex again."

"She never went out and no one came here to see her," mused Lamby.

But that someone had comforted the tearful Deirdre was apparent to all of them and neither did old Maisie miss it. She said nothing, pretending to be intent on a game of solitaire but as Lamby continued to hunt in her mind for Deirdre's seducer, and make suggestions, a delivery boy, the plumber, the carpenter, she looked sideways at Ian and gave him a big slow wink. She was sure it was he.

Ian shook his head but the old lady chuckled out loud.

"What are you laughing at, Ma-Ma?" said Sissy, glad that she, at least, was not upset.

"There, I've won again," said Maisie putting down the last card in the deck. "Shucks, I always win. I was thinking of Dody, the little rascal," she added. And she was, of Dody and the plump and limber easygoing little wench under the eaves who had made a thoroughgoing man of him in ten minutes, how the old man had caned him, there had been a child, too-Maisie frowned -Lisa had escaped her, she could not remember...

"Janey and I have had a good long talk," she said to Sissy (Sissy shivered), "and I think you will have less trouble with her from now on."

"Will you have your toddy, Ma-Ma?" said Sissy desperately.

"In good time," said Maisie. "She's a spirited child and I like her, she's just cheeky, that's all."

Janey had no doubt been accepted in Maisie's little hall of fame, a dead darling now, like Bessie and the boys.

"Good night, Ma-Ma." Sissy couldn't stand it.

"Pleasant dreams, my dear," said the old lady. "Come, Ian, help me to the study."

"Cousin Maisie," said Ian, when they were alone, "I didn't do it." He grinned at her and repeated it, "I didn't, Cousin Maisie."

"Come, come;" said the old lady, "there's no need to fib to me."

"But, Cousin Maisie."

"But me no buts, I'll say not a word to the others. She was a pretty little slut."

"I don't like pretty little sluts," said Ian.

"A good rough and tumble with the likes of Daisy now and again will do you no harm," said the old lady. "Paula's a little stiff."

"Oh, Cousin Maisie," said Ian, wanting to change the subject and also to erase the tempting vision of himself with a buxom colleen (he saw it all, blue sky overhead and straw in her hair! Saints preserve us!), "if only I had met you first!" As a matter of fact, he meant it.

"Ah," said Maisie engagingly, "I would have been your match."

"And I yours," said Ian manfully (he doubted it).

"Well, we'll see," said the old lady.

"Good night, dearest," said Ian.

"Good night, dear heart," she murmured. "Thadeus."

"Thadeus! I'm a son of a bitch," thought Ian. "The old girl was quite the little trick." He marveled at Maisie.