The Wingless Bird by Catherine Cookson

Author:Catherine Cookson [Cookson, Catherine]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781780360348
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

‘She didn’t tell me, and I didn’t ask her.’

Alice hurried to the sitting room, and there she said, ‘There’s a man downstairs. Maggie says he’s a gentleman; but how she would know beats me, because every Tom, Dick and Harry carries a walking stick these days. Do you know anybody of that description who would want to see you?’

Agnes bit on the edge of her lip now before she said, ‘Yes, Mother. Would you mind bringing him up? His name will be Mr Charles Farrier, if I’m not mistaken.’

‘All right, if you say so.’

From the moment the door closed on her mother Agnes’ thoughts didn’t dwell on the impending visitor but on the difference that had taken place in that woman, that woman whom she had disliked for years. The very fact that she had disliked her and yet now she could say almost loved her, disturbed her, because it proved that one could be deceived by what one imagined to be a person’s character, when underneath there was someone entirely different from that presented by the outer shell.

When her mother entered the room, saying, ‘There’s a gentleman to see you, Agnes,’ and Charles came into view, the sight of him again flicked her heart against her ribs.

She gave him no word of greeting but tried to rise from the couch, and when his voice said, ‘Please. Please, don’t disturb yourself. May I sit down?’ and he looked from one to the other, it was Alice who said, ‘Yes, do, do. Can I get you a drink? We were just about to have a cup of tea. Would you like a cup?’

‘Yes, please. Thank you.’

Alice left the room, leaving them sitting looking at each other; and still Agnes couldn’t speak, but he did and rapidly. ‘I’m…I’m so very sorry. I only heard about it this morning. You see I returned late last night. I’ve been to Colchester. I’m doing a little work there and of course I saw my brother too. It was Elaine who told me. She telephoned; she had read about it in the papers. Oh my dear, I feel it’s all my fault. If I’d never suggested that your sister should…’

‘Please. Please. It wasn’t your fault. It would have happened in any case. She…she would have gone to the young man; she was just waiting an opportunity. And my father would have followed them, killed one or the other of them wherever they were.’

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