For once I allowed myself to be bossed like this.
“Where is Liam?” I asked as I hauled myself up the stairs. “Has he been good?”
“Like a little angel. He’s just fallen asleep, but Bridie’s been amusing him all morning, and you should hear him laughing and cooing. It delights the heart to hear such sounds. He needs company, now that he’s growing up. It’s time you gave him a little brother or sister and stopped running around with those women across the street.”
“He’s only a year old,” I said.
“That’s right. Eighteen months between babies is ideal, that’s what they always used to say, and you’re already running a bit late on that.”
I almost asked why she was giving me advice on going forth and being fruitful when she had only managed to produce one child herself. But I remembered Daniel had said it was a sore subject for her, and she didn’t like to talk about it.
“Your friends across the street,” she said, following me into the bedroom and peering out of the window. “No doubt they are still into championing votes for women and that kind of thing.”
“Yes, they are,” I replied.
She sniffed, then gave me a long hard stare. “I’m wondering if your friendship with them may not be the best thing for your husband’s career.”
“What on earth has our friendship got to do with Daniel?” I demanded.
“If he were to run for office some day, such a friendship could well be held against him.”
“But Sid and Gus are wonderful people. They are kind, and caring, and amusing, and cultured. You couldn’t want for better friends,” I said, trying to check my rising anger.
She patted my hand. “You’ve led a sheltered life, my dear, and you probably don’t realize the full implications, but such friendships are not natural. When I was young, romantic friendships among young women were accepted, even encouraged. But that was only until a suitable match could be made. Two women living together like that … it’s just not right. What will your children think, when they are old enough to notice?”
“They’ll think that Auntie Sid and Auntie Gus seem to have a lot of fun at their house,” I said. “Which is what I think too. And if they choose not to marry, that’s up to them.” I sat on the bed and started to unbutton my shirtwaist. “You mentioned something about soup?” I added, closing the conversation.
I got up after a long nap and had tea in the kitchen. Sid and Gus were not mentioned again. I knew that Daniel was not thrilled about my association with them, but this was one area where I chose to ignore all criticism. Sid and Gus were my dear friends, and that was all that mattered.
Being Friday, Mother Sullivan cooked cod with a white sauce for dinner, and miraculously Daniel arrived home in time to join us. It seemed that having his mother here was a good influence on him.
“How’s my invalid?” he asked.
“Not improving through rushing all over the place this morning,” Mother Sullivan said before I could answer, as she brought the pie to the table. “You should have seen her earlier. Pale as death she was, and clearly suffering.”
“You exaggerate,” I said. “I went out for an hour with Sid and Gus to visit friends. Hardly exhausting, and I’m feeling just fine now.”
“Take it slowly, Molly,” Daniel said, giving me a long look. “These things can’t be rushed.”
“I’m fine, really I am,” I said. I spooned food onto a plate and passed it to Daniel, then to Bridie. “How is the case coming along? Have they discovered any clues about the train crash yet?”
“Nothing at all.” He shook his head, but there was a warning look in his eyes that said we should say nothing more in front of his mother. “I take it your little jaunt with the neighbor ladies today was to visit the young girl you told me about.”
“Yes, it was. It was rather disturbing, as a matter of fact. The girl claims to remember nothing but is having horrendous dreams, dreams that upset her so much that she was shaking and couldn’t even talk about them. Gus has asked her to write them down as soon as they happen, as that might be less distressing than having to recount them.”
“And Gus thinks she can analyze the dreams and thus cure the girl?”
“That’s what she hopes,” I said.
“What’s all this? Your friend has turned into a fortune-teller now, has she?” Daniel’s mother asked.
“No, remember I told you that she’s been studying in Vienna with Professor Freud?”
Mother Sullivan sniffed. “Professor Freud! Smut merchant Freud, if you ask me. Mrs. Hennessy at church was saying that he’s trying to make out we’re all depraved, with unnatural desires. I’m afraid it only goes to confirm my opinion of your friends, Molly.”