On a Clear Day Read Online Free PDF Page B

for that train ye wanted.’
    ‘Right enough, Jack, it’s after five. Sure I’d clean forgot what time it was. I’m all through meself. I don’t know whether I’m coming or going.’
    ‘Ah sure we’re all the same. But you’ve the hardest job with wee Clare. I don’t think it’s hit her yet. She seems as right as rain.’
    ‘I don’t know. I just don’t know. The matron says she cried a lot when she told her but she seemed to be more worried about William than about herself. D’ye think your mother and father have done the right thing taking him in? They’re not so young any more and he can be a wee handful at times.’
    ‘Aye, he’s a funny wee lad. I don’t know who he takes after but the father said it was up to the Hamiltons to have him. And Mammy agreed, though she did admit to be honest that she’d had her fill of we’eans. Of course, it’s part of what they believe in, the Friends that is, they’re supposed to help each other at times like this.’
    ‘Sure I’d forgot they were Quakers,’ said Polly quickly. ‘When Ellie and Sam were married they went to the Presbyterians. Why did Sam not stay with the Quakers? I’ve always thought they were very good people.’
    ‘They are Polly, indeed they are. I wish there was more like them, but Sam was very keen to join the Masons and the Lodge. Ye see ye can’t join any o’ these organisations if you’re a Friend. It’s against what they believe. There’s none of us boys has followed them to the Meeting House, it’s only some of the girls that still go.’
    Clare unpacked the jam pot and filled it carefully with water. So that was why Uncle Jack had taken them all out to Granny Hamilton andthen left William there. Granda and Granny must have consulted their consciences about William. That was what Quakers did. They didn’t sing hymns or say prayers, they just sat quietly and waited for the Spirit to move them.
    ‘Granda, what happens if the Spirit doesn’t move you?’ she’d asked her grandfather one day, as he sat by the window, his finger marking his place in the large Bible he read every day.
    ‘Well, that’s a matter of faith, Clare,’ he said, looking at her very directly. ‘If you believe that there is help for you, then it is likely to come, but if you are weak in faith you may have to wait and try again.’
    Perhaps now if she consulted her conscience God would tell her what to do with her flowers. They seemed such a tiny bunch compared with all these wonderful wreaths. And she hadn’t even got a card. She sat down on the kerb of the grave nearest to where her parents lay and closed her eyes.
    ‘Uncle Jack, can I borrow one of your pens?’ she said, getting up quickly and running towards where they stood, their backs slightly turned away from her. Uncle Jack was a book-keeper at the fruit factory in Richhill and he always carried a row of pens in his top pocket.
    ‘Ye can surely,’ he said, taking out a ball-point and handing it to her.
    ‘Have you a wee piece of paper in your bag, please, Auntie Polly?’
    Polly scuffled in her bag and produced a brown envelope, the latest reminder from the Electricity Board. She removed the red notice from inside and put it in her outstretched hand.
    Clare sat down again on the granite kerb and wrote leaning on her knee. It was difficult for without something flat underneath the flimsy paper it would tear if she pressed too hard. She wrote slowly:
    Dear Mummy,
    You always said it was better if men died first because women manage better but that you’d be heartbroken if Daddy died. It is very sad and I shall miss you but you are with Daddy. That is what you would want.
    All my love to you both,
    Clare
    She placed her message under the jam pot of flowers on the kerb where she had been sitting.
    ‘I’m ready now, thank you,’ she said as she walked back to where Jack and Polly stood and gave Uncle Jack his pen.
    Neither Polly nor Jack felt it proper to go and look at what Clare had