A Mother’s Spirit. Anne Bennett
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Brannigan,’ he admitted, ‘I have never even saddled a horse in my life. If we rode one at all, it was bareback.’
‘Well, you can learn, man,’ Brian said. ‘It’s not hard, and you will have the stable lad, Bobby, to help you. What that boy doesn’t know about horses isn’t worth knowing. What do you say?’
There was nothing Joe could say but yes. He had known from the start that he would have to agree to anything Brian planned. Joe could not afford to upset him, for he held his future in the palm of his hand.
‘Right, that’s settled then,’ Brian said, beaming approval. ‘After the meal I will send my man McManus to your sponsor’s house again to tell him of the change of plan and have a room made ready for you in the basement with the other servants. Then early tomorrow I want you to fetch the carriage back from the docks.’
‘Yes, sir,’ said Joe, and though nervous of doing a job he knew so little about, he was relieved to have employment and a place that night to lay his head.
‘Mind you,’ Brian went on, ‘I think the day of the horse, except for recreational use, is at an end. It is getting too dangerous to take them on to the streets these days, and I have ordered myself a motor car, so that will mean the carriage and the matching pair will probably be leaving us.’ He leaned towards his wife and, seeing her disgruntled look, said, ‘Do take that frown from your face, my dear. I have made my views abundantly clear. In fact, Bramble too is on borrowed time,’ he added, turning back to Joe.
‘Not because of the incident earlier, sir?’ Joe asked.
‘No,’ Brian said. ‘That really wasn’t the pony’s fault, but Gloria has nearly outgrown him now anyway, and then after Christmas she is off to a convent school in Madison. If she wants to ride when she comes home in the holidays then I will hire from the local riding school. So whoever is taken on in the stables will have to see to the car too, of course.’
‘Tim won’t do that,’ Norah said. ‘You know he won’t.’
‘Well, you can’t teach old dogs new tricks, I suppose,’ Brian said. ‘In fact, I have been thinking that it was about time Tim was pensioned off. If he pulls through from this then I will talk it over with him. I’ve no idea how old he is, but he is no spring chicken and I’ll see to it that he is all right.’
Norah laughed. ‘I wish you well of it,’ she said, ‘because he won’t take kindly to that.’
‘Then that will be an obstacle to overcome in the future,’ Brian said. ‘What I want to know, Joe, is what do you think of me getting a car?’
Joe didn’t know how to answer this because he was far more nervous of dealing with a car than horses of any description. At least they were familiar. In the end he said, ‘I … I don’t really know what to think, sir.’
‘Think you could drive a car, Joe?’
‘Oh, I really don’t know about that, sir,’ Joe said agitatedly. ‘I have never had anything to do with cars.’
‘Not many have,’ Brian said. ‘Let’s just say that you are not opposed to the motor car, which will soon be the only way to travel around this city and any other too?’
‘No, sir,’ Joe said. ‘It’s progress, I suppose, like the steam ships taking over from the old sailing ships.’
‘That’s true enough,’ Brian said. ‘What I am asking you, Joe Sullivan, is when the car I have ordered is delivered, are you prepared to learn to drive it so that you can take me to the factory each day and bring me home each evening?’
Joe thought about it, but not for very long, because in his heart of hearts he thought he would probably settle to it better than factory work. He knew too that Brian wanted him to do this for him and he was a man used to getting his own way. If he refused he’d get someone else who was willing to do it and that would be an opportunity lost to Joe, and he sensed that Brian would be disappointed in him. So he said, ‘This seems to be a country where life refuses to stand still so I am willing to learn to drive a car if you want me to.’
‘Can’t say fairer than that,’ Brian said in approval, and he clapped Joe on the shoulder.
After dinner that first evening, Planchard introduced Joe to the rest of the staff. They had heard how he had rescued Miss Gloria, and at great risk to his own life, and so he was welcomed as something of a hero. Joe hadn’t grown up in a home where praise was customary and so he was embarrassed at the fuss made. He was also very tired, and was pleasantly surprised to be shown to the room in the basement that, Planchard told him, Mr Brannigan senior had specially built to house the servants.
He didn’t notice that it was basic and spartan, for he’d never had a bed, never mind a whole room, to himself before. And it had everything he needed. It housed an iron bedstead, a chest of drawers and a hanging rail, and to him it was like a little palace. He lay in that comfortable bed that first night amongst crisp clean sheets, under plenty of warm blankets covered with a bedspread, and was so happy that he had taken the plunge and come to America. He had the feeling that this was the sort of country where anything could happen, a true land of opportunity.
The following morning, Brian ordered a taxi for himself and Joe, using a telephone that he had had fitted in the house. Joe was astounded when he told him this.
‘You mean, sir, that you can just pick up a machine and talk to people miles away?’
Brian smiled at Joe’s astonished face. ‘That is the general idea,’ he said. ‘How else would the taxi firm know that I wanted them this morning?’
‘It’s almost unbelievable to me, sir,’ Joe said. ‘I know that you said I was to go into New York this morning to fetch the carriage back and I wasn’t sure how I was going to go in except maybe to use one of those frightening tram cars.’
‘No, Joe, not this morning,’ Brian said. ‘Though you will have to get to grips with those sooner or later. Today I am going with you because I want to see how Tim is faring. And don’t be in too much of a hurry to fetch the carriage back. Familiarise yourself with the place before you collect it because as it is Saturday today I will not be going to work and will have no urgent need of it.’
‘Thank you, sir,’ Joe said, grateful for his employer’s consideration, because he had had only a glimpse of the city as the taxi had sped through the deepening dusk the evening before and he was dying to see more of it.
Just a short while later, after his second ride in a taxi, he stepped from it onto one of the crowded streets and looked about him. He could hardly believe that he was here at last, standing in New York City.
Used to winding country lanes, he was fascinated by the wide and perfectly straight streets and the way many of them had numbers instead of names. The city’s skyscrapers towered above him, and the size and variety of the shops and the goods they had on sale in their huge glass windows fairly dazzled him.
To all sides, people, seemingly of every colour and creed, thronged the pavements which Joe had heard tell were called sidewalks. He noted that though many folk spoke with the American drawl, there were plenty more with foreign accents or inflexions in their speech, and he knew it wasn’t just the Irish who were flooding American shores. New York truly was a cosmopolitan city and he felt privileged to be part of this New World. He vowed to store it all up to tell Tom in his letters home.
When he arrived back, later that morning, it was to learn that Tim the coachman had died in the night.
‘Poor fellow,’ McManus said. ‘Been here years, and then to end his days like that …’
All the staff were upset over Tim’s death, as was Brian Brannigan, although he was heartily glad that Joe had agreed to step into Tim’s shoes. Joe had surprised himself that morning by quite