Galore - Michael Crummey [95]
—You don’t mention that woman to your father, Ann Hope said.
In the last weeks of Absalom’s life, Ann Hope closed off the sickroom to everyone but the doctor. She thought there was something purposeful in her husband’s tenacity, something in particular that was keeping him alive. A declaration to be made, some duty unfulfilled, and Mary Tryphena’s unexpected appearance at Selina’s House filled Ann Hope with dread.
It was a shock still to see herself such a pessimist, so vindictive. She’d arrived in Newfoundland determined to turn the wheel of progress a notch and managed only to grind herself down on the implacable rock of the place. She still spoke the language of reform but she’d lost her faith years ago. Ann Hopeless. Greedy to cling to what little was left her. There were whole seasons of her life when Mary Tryphena never entered Ann Hope’s thoughts. But she could see now that every day since Levi’s birth had been a fight to surrender nothing more to the woman. She lived in fear of Absalom asking to see Mary Tryphena before he died, but the only visitors he showed any interest in were the Trim brothers. He mentioned them several times a day and eventually she relented, instructing them not to indulge in idle chatter that might tire or upset him.
The brothers spent their time in silence while Absalom slept or read to him from Jabez Trim’s Bible. Azariah read the story of Ishmael, prophesied by an angel of the Lord to be a wild ass of a man, his hand against every man and every man’s hand against him, and destined to dwell over against all his kinsmen. Absalom smiled grimly up at the ceiling. —That sounds like my Levi, he said.
—He’s a hard man all right, Obediah said quietly.
Absalom moved his head on the pillow. —Has something happened?
—Not since, Azariah said, no.
—Since what?
The brothers glanced at one another. —We oughten to trouble you sir, Azariah said.
—It’s too late not to trouble me.
The blind man’s face twitched as they gave a brief account of Levi’s activities, Absalom raising his hand for silence finally, struggling for air. The Trims stood from their chairs. —Go fetch Mrs. Sellers, Obediah said.
Ann Hope set him lower in the bed once he’d recovered himself, the brothers waiting against the wall to say their goodbyes, solemn and regretful, feeling they’d ruined what little time the dying man had left in the world. Absalom passed days in silence, unable to speak a word to his wife or daughter. He felt he must have poisoned Levi somehow, sleeping with Mary Tryphena in the servant’s quarters while the youngster took his first tentative breaths upstairs. Half a lifetime then waiting to be reconciled to one son before he could put things right with the other. Even as his life was reduced to this single upstairs room, to the deathbed he lay on, Absalom had managed to nurse the fantasy some miracle would spare him setting them one against the other for good.
When he woke from his fitful bouts of sleep he could tell there was someone in the room, his wife or daughter keeping an eye on him. A difference in the quality of the silence, occupied space. —Who’s there? he asked.
—It’s Adelina.
—I need to speak to your mother.
Ann Hope came into the room in a rush. —What is it? she said. —Can you breathe? Are you feeling ill?
—Sit down, he said.
She pulled the chair close to the bed and took his hand.
—I need to speak with Henley, he said. Absalom squeezed her hand to keep her close. —I need you to bring him here without Levi knowing.
Ann Hope extracted her fingers slowly, folding her arms across her breasts. —You aren’t well enough for visitors, she said.
He reached in the direction of her voice. —I know it’s unfair to ask you, he said. He could hear the sound of weeping muffled behind a fist. —But I won’t die with this on my head. If you feel anything for me at all, Ann Hope.
She blew her nose and tucked away the handkerchief. —Let me think about it, she said.
His time passed in sleep broken by brief moments of consciousness, the