"I cry even harder, thinking of how it could have been, of how I thought it would be. For the first time, I want to give up, to die, because suddenly everything is too much and there is no solution in sight." B.A. Paris, Behind Closed Doors
----
XV.
Just as Lily had predicted, the door to her bedroom opened and closed a few minutes after midnight, and there was suddenly a glow of flickering candlelight that filled the room.
"Cecily Beresford!" gushed Perrie. "You had better not be sleeping. Not when you have quite a tale to tell me!"
Lily had not been sleeping, and she sat up in her bed immediately. Perrie was quick to scurry over, and she climbed in beside Lily, setting the candle down on the table beside her.
"Don't you have an infant to tend?" Lily reminded her with a wry smile.
"She is in the very capable care of her father. Why should it be solely up to the mothers to child rear when their fathers have two perfectly good hands?" Perrie tsked, but she sensed Lily's teasing. "If you tell Joe that I called him 'perfectly capable', I will deny it and declare you insane."
Lily giggled as she sidled up beside her sister and sighed. Lord, it felt like an age since she had been able to talk like this with Perrie. Now she was married, their private time together was, of course, reduced. But Lily's absence had certainly made her heart grow fonder.
"Tell me everything," Perrie urged softly. "I want to know it all. All I can say for the beginning is that you look as well as I have ever seen you."
"I am well," Lily assured her. "I needed to do this, for certain. I don't know if I could have faced what awaits me in the Season had I not explored what was beyond the gates of Ashwood.
"And do not mistake me. I am perfectly aware that the four walls of an office do not represent the whole world, and being out in it, but for someone like me to have the chance of meeting characters that are quite certainly the salt of the earth ..." Lily paused pensively as her voice trailed off, before another thought floated into her mind. "Perrie, what do you know of Ireland?"
"Ireland?" repeated Perrie. "What an earth do you mean?"
"Ireland, the Irish, what do you know of it, of them?"
Lily could see by the expression on her sister's face that Lily had quite stumped her. Lily, herself, was still very ignorant on the subject. All she knew was what Mr McCarthy volunteered, and he did not volunteer much at all. Perrie was the first person who Lily could reasonably ask without suspicion, and Perrie's education exactly matched Lily's.
Their schooling encompassed the history of needlework, not of their Catholic neighbours.
"I don't know very much at all, to be fair," Perrie admitted. "I suppose I have never thought about it, never had reason to, and that seems so strange to be so unaware of a country so close to our own. What do you know about them? Why do you ask?"
"My employer ..."
"Is your employer the one who is the salt of the earth?" Perrie interjected curiously.
"He is Irish," Lily replied. "And yes. I think him to be very much the salt of the earth."
"This is the same man who placed that rather brash advertisement in the newspaper, is he not?"
Lily thought back to seeing Mr McCarthy's original advertisement, and she couldn't help but smile, before she shuddered at her first idiotic attempt to make tea.
"What?" Perrie prompted.
"He is clever in a way I have never seen before," Lily murmured. "Papa is clever with an air of such confidence and self-assuredness. When I think of Papa and his business, I think elegance and wit.
"Mr McCarthy is clever in a way that he has to prove himself time and again. He has to work twice as hard, and does not get nearly as far, but that does not deter him. He is driven by something I do not understand, and his resolve to never given in might challenge even your stubbornness, Perrie.
"Life has taught him, and his experiences are something so foreign to me that I cannot even imagine them as he has not confided in me. But I can see them. I can see them written all over his face, and he most definitely has a heart, a big one. He carries such burdens, but when he wins, he smiles ... and his smile is so beautiful that I wish he was never burdened."
The sisters sat in silence for several minutes after Lily realised what had just poured out of her mouth. It had most definitely come directly from her heart, and it was certainly the sincerest thing she had ever uttered in her life.
Lily's admiration for Mr McCarthy was considerable. Perhaps she did not yet comprehend the complexity of it yet.
"Is this Mr McCarthy aware of your identity?" Perrie's question was soft and barely even audible.
"No."
"Does he hold you in the same regard that you hold him?"
"No!" Lily's refusal that time came immediately and much louder than the first. "I ... I respect him is all ... and he respects me as an employee ..."
Perrie interrupted her. "But he is a good man?"
"Yes," Lily answered determinedly.
"Then you have something to think about, Lily."
"What do you mean?"
"Whether or not you are aware of it, I think you are falling in love with the man." Just as Lily was about to protest, Perrie held up her hand and said, "Let me finish. He cannot return your feelings if he doesn't know who you really are. No man, especially not the salt of the earth character you describe, deserves to be deceived. Sooner or later, he is going to learn the truth, and let it be from you."
Lily had not realised that she had begun to tremble. Perrie held Lily in her arms and rubbed her back soothingly. Lily did not think that she was falling in love. What did falling in love even feel like? For her sister, falling in love seemed to mean that one wanted to find the most creative way to kill the other.
Lily had no idea what it was supposed to feel like in her heart. But regardless, Mr McCarthy knew Lily without knowing her name. She had not deceived him on any other topic. She had been sincere in her every word except for that.
He doesn't know who you really are.
Lily was an aristocrat. If she knew anything about Mr McCarthy, it was that he loathed the lazy eejit that was the aristocrat.
He cannot return your feelings.
There was no way that Mr McCarthy would feel anything but loathing towards her if he knew the truth about Lily's position. The very idea of Mr McCarthy regarding her so poorly made Lily's chest seize in an agonising way, and her brow furrowed with worry.
Lily did not understand her own feelings but having Mr McCarthy hate her was unthinkable. Deliberately lying to him, as well, filled her with the all too familiar feeling of guilt and unease.
Did Lily want McCarthy to return her feelings? As soon as the thought filled her head, she admonished herself for it. She did not even know what feelings she possessed. But she certainly wanted Mr McCarthy to think as well of her as she did of him.
"He hates aristocrats, Perrie," Lily whispered after a long silence.
"Why?" queried her sister.
Lily only had to think of the disgusting excuse for an aristocrat that was Sir Richard Frogmore to give an example, but she couldn't utter his name.
"Why do we not know about the Irish?" Lily countered.
Perrie seemed to understand, and she sighed softly. "The Season will be here before you know it. Yours will be the most anxiously sought after hand this year. Your name will be everywhere. There will be no hiding, Lily. You always intended for this charade to end before the Season began. Is that still your plan?"
***
Leaving the house the next morning was not nearly as seamless as it usually was. Jack and Jackie still left for the publishing house at their usual time (following a tongue lashing from Cecily about Jackie's attire that was promptly ignored), but Lily could not avoid what felt like her eleven dozen family members and their questions as she tried to depart.
Lily adored her family more than life, but if Alice asked to accompany her one more time, she could not be held responsible for what escaped her lips. Lily had had an awful night's sleep and her eyes felt quite sore.
After Perrie had left, she struggled to get any sort of restful slumber as she could not stop thinking and worrying. Her mind raced as her thoughts were very cruel to her and admonished her for her deceit.
That word sounded so horrid, and it made Lily feel wretched. She was not a wretched person, and she hated to think that she was doing something wretched.
Simultaneously though, Lily could also not stop thinking about Perrie's belief in the fact that Lily was falling in love with Mr McCarthy.
It made the idea of her upcoming work day very overwhelming, indeed.
Though she knew that nobody had followed her, the idea that her family were now in London made Lily quite wary. Especially after Perrie's comments. How had she not been caught? Lily waited until her carriage was entirely out of sight, and then at least five minutes more, before she made her way to Mr McCarthy's office.
Just as Lily was about to reach for the doorhandle, it appeared as though her presence was anticipated. The door was pulled open with great haste, and Mr McGuire stood before her with an expression of great concern.
Lily instantly put her own worries aside as her shoulders tensed.
"Oh, Lily, thank God." Without a word of warning, Mr McGuire grabbed a hold of Lily's hand, and he yanked her inside, slamming the door shut behind her.
Lily had barely a chance to let out an exclaim of shock before Mr McGuire's hands were on her back, pushing her towards the open door of Mr McCarthy's office. Upon first glance, the office was empty, but the sight of a pair of legs poking out from underneath the desk made Lily's stomach turn.
"Oh, my God!" she cried in fright, before she threw herself to the floor and found herself crawling around the side of his desk to reach him.
"I found him like this, this morning!" Mr McGuire stressed. "Won't say a word to me! Fix him, would you? Find out what the matter is, and then tell him he's a bleedin' eejit for scaring me half to death. Thought he was a cursed corpse when I first saw him!"
By the time that Mr McGuire had quelled Lily's fear that she was about to discover Mr McCarthy's dead body underneath the desk, Lily could see that he was breathing. Breathing and staring up at the underside of the wooden tabletop.
What a stark contrast this was from the elated man that had excitedly told her about his ship purchase only the day before. It made Lily feel sick, and she had no room for propriety at that moment. She crawled underneath the desk beside him, and she grabbed hold of one of his arms as she looked down at his face.
He hadn't slept. That much was obvious. But there was so much more written upon Callan McCarthy's face than a mere lack of rest. Lily could see it in his haunted green eyes. He was being torn apart inside, screaming from within.
"Mr McCarthy," Lily blubbered. "Mr McCarthy." She shook him. "Callan! Won't you speak to me?"
"You're fired, Lily."
Mr McCarthy's voice was monotonous.
"What?"
"I can't pay you."
Lily could not have cared less about her employment in that moment. "Tell me what's happened," she urged. "You were so happy yesterday ... what has happened between then and now?"
"I'm a failure. That's what happened."
Lily was about ready to slap him. She couldn't stand the fear that she was feeling, and Mr McCarthy's cryptic whispers felt like lashes. "You are certainly not a failure," she promised. "I've never met anyone who works as hard as you do."
"You ought to see me in a potato field then, for that's where I'm bound."
"Potatoes? What are you talking about?" Lily pushed. She was squeezing his arm, and if it hurt him, Mr McCarthy did not flinch.
"I'm ruined, Lily!" he hissed, before he suddenly whipped his arm away from her. "I've got debts up to my bleedin' eyeballs and nought but crumbs in my pockets to pay them!" He rolled over on the floor away from her, before he said, "Get out of here. I can't look at you now. I don't want you looking at me."
Mr McCarthy would have to drag her from the building if he wanted her dismissed. He was truly mad if he thought that she would be going anywhere without understanding the situation, and she certainly would not be leaving him while he was lying on the floor!
Lily scrambled out from under the desk, only to walk around it and crouch down to look at him from the other side. Any frustration she felt faded as she saw the glassiness of his green eyes, and Lily wanted nothing more than to take this pain away.
Mr McCarthy clearly felt no such sentiment. He swore at her. Lily, at least, thought it sounded like a swear word, though it was in Gaelic. She had heard both Mr McCarthy and Mr McGuire use it against the other in passing tiffs.
"You don't know when you're not wanted, do you? You're just like that eejit last night!" Mr McCarthy hissed.
"What eejit?" Lily asked, her accent wrapping around the word in a way that did not sound natural.
"I don't bleedin' remember his name. Prince of Kentworth or something. But he ... it doesn't matter. None of it matters. I'm ruined. Let me rot on this floor in peace. Sod off, would you? Allow me some pride."
Lily barely took his comment about the identity of the mystery eejit. She was still yet to understand what exactly had happened that had ruined Mr McCarthy. "I will not sod off," she snapped. "Be damned your foolish pride. Your cousin and I are both here to help you. Now I will only ask you one more time. What happened?"
"Madwoman!" Mr McCarthy cursed. "On the desk, if you must know!"
Lily stood up immediately and her eyes went over the contents of Mr McCarthy's desk. It was a mess of papers as it usually was, but Lily spotted something that she had not seen there before. It was a bit of stiff card that was placed face down. She picked it up and asked, "What's this card? Is this it?"
"That's the address of the bleedin' eejit. Not that. Underneath it." Mr McCarthy's voice was muffled from under the desk, but she could still understand him.
Lily returned the card to the top of a disorganised pile without looking at it. Perhaps her curiosity might have got the best of her during any other time, but not this morning. Lily found a letter, and it only took one quick perusal to realise why Mr McCarthy was so distraught.
"Oh," Lily uttered in a heartbreaking whisper.
This was bad. Mr McCarthy was now sitting on an entirely worthless shipment of cotton. What money he had earned from the sale had already been spent, and he would no doubt be due a loan repayment to the bank very soon.
"Perhaps you could write to the bank and ask for an extension on your repayment window. And a letter to Norwood Mills. You will have an entirely new shipment of cotton when your ship returns to England. Perhaps some agreement might be found that would suit everyone. A discounted sale, or a replacement or –"
"None of that matters," Mr McCarthy interrupted her.
"But surely –"
"My grandfather does not negotiate."
----
I hope you enjoyed it!
SUMMER IS HERE!!
I'm sure you Northern Hemisphere friends are going "Whaaaa?" But yep, for those of us on the other side of the world, it's summertime. We exist!
I finished up the year with my class on Wednesday, and this was the first year that I haven't cried when farewelling my class. My heart's turning to stone in my old age!
But no, seriously, I think the exhaustion blocked my tear ducts.
This has without a doubt been a year that nearly killed me, and I'm so glad it's coming to an end.
2024. I have such hopes for you. I hope you have a house for me. Bf and I are looking. I hope you have travels and good memories and everything that 2023 did not.
I already know you hold the Eras Tour for me and that's kept me going a bit this year!
But Summer means Christmas (Yep, Christmas is hot, and that's normal for me hahaha), and I've been running around my house like a madwoman cleaning and preparing. I'm hosting 20 people, cooking for everyone, and I'm excited and stressed lol. I'm doing some of the cooking tomorrow on Christmas Eve before doing the meat and potatoes on Christmas Day. Follow along on my Instagram stories! I'll try and do better than I did last year hahaha
Anyway, this will be my last chapter before Christmas. I wish you all the most magical of holidays! May it be merry and bright and filled with love.
And for those of you for whom this is a difficult time of year, know that I am thinking of you, and believe it or not, I do understand. I want to wrap my arms around you.
As for the rest ... tell your racist uncle where to shove it, homophobia has no place at the table, Grandma's comments on your plate do not take away your right to eat and feel comfortable eating. You're beautiful no matter what! Just keep catching the eye of your cousin who gets it and sneak out in the backyard to debrief about the tomfoolery that is a family get together.
Bonus quote for you. "After a good dinner, one can forgive anybody. Even one's own relations." Oscar Wilde.
But I also know that a good dinner can't mend some things. If you're no contact this holiday season, well done on looking out for yourself and putting yourself first.
Okay, that's enough from me.
Merry Christmas, friends. Thanks for being here for me this year. Little old me who rambles on at the ends of my chapters in my silly corner of the internet. Let it always be a safe space xxx