Chapter Forty Five
God Bless You
Having trundled over the River Liffey by way of the O'Connell Bridge, shortly thereafter the Number 15 tram slowed and came to a complete and final stop close to the massive granite base of Nelson's Pillar. Here, the impertinent young conductor who had been so rude to Mary when she tried to pay for their fares now yelled "All Change".
Along with the rest of the passengers on the upper deck, the four of them, Tom leading, carefully descended the curving, narrow stairs to the lower saloon of the tramcar. Notwithstanding his own injuries and the fact that he was starting to feel very tired indeed, with impeccably good manners, Tom helped each of the Crawley girls one at a time, down onto the street, earning heartfelt thanks and radiant smiles from all three of them. Although the ornate street lamps were already beginning to be lit, here on Sackville Street, in the very heart of Dublin, in the warm afterglow of a summer's evening, the broad pavements were still thronged with pedestrians, the street with all manner of vehicles.
After what had happened on the upper deck of the tram, given the comparative lateness of the hour, so as to avoid any chance of further unpleasantness, and also so as to set Sybil's own mind at rest too, Tom suggested that it would perhaps be better if Mary and Edith took a motor cab back to the Shelbourne. Initially Mary demurred, having, she said, really enjoyed her trip on the tram down to the Pillar. However, eventually, Tom won her round to his way of thinking; said, following entreaties from both Edith and from Sybil, that she could see the sense in what he proposed. Tom nodded, and then turned away intending to set off and find them both a cab. But, as he did so, Mary caught him gently by the shoulder.
"Tom, wait a moment, please" she implored. Guilelessly, her dark brown eyes intently searched his bruised and cut face. Tom paused, and turned to face her. He grinned.
"Milady?" he said, his dark blue eyes alight with mischief, sketching an imaginary salute with his right hand.
"You idiot" she said smiling gently back at him. "That's all done with now, as well you know!"
Tom chuckled. He nodded.
"Yes, I know" he said softly.
Mary quickly slipped off her glove, opened her purse and took out a silver sixpence. "Here" she said; her eyes were like quicksilver, alive in equal measure with both amusement and pleasure. She reached forward and placed the small coin in Tom's palm, closing his fingers upon it within her own.
"Why, whatever for?" asked Tom, now genuinely mystified.
"For luck! And for being my guide to Dublin. What else?" Mary laughed. Then she grew serious; her voice grew ever softer, even tender. "But... for being... for being so much more than that, Tom. For loving Sybil the way you do, for what you did for Edith, for what you did for the both of them today at the hotel, while I..." Mary paused. Her eyes shimmered in the glow of lamplight, grew large and luminous. Tom waited while she recovered herself. Mary nodded gently, thanking him silently for his innate understanding. "...while I was off... sightseeing in the park". She swallowed hard, fought to keep her composure.
Tom smiled.
"But, also, Tom, for what you did for me as well".
"For what I did for you? How so? But I did nothing" said Tom wonderingly.
"Yes you did Tom, although you may not realise that you did" said Mary softly.
"But even so, surely Mary, I should be thanking you for what you did for me?"
Mary shook her head, placed her forefinger gently across Tom's lips.
"No, Tom. Helping you at the hotel? That, at least for me, was the easy part. What I mean is for... for saving me... from myself. For making me see that I've been so wrong about you, in fact so very wrong... about so many things. That what really matters in life is not what position a person is born into, but what they are like in here". Mary brought Tom's hand to rest over her heart.
"You understand, don't you?"
Tom nodded. He knew the nature of her true torment.
"You understand everything" she said softly. "Sybil is so very, very lucky to be marrying you. Whatever comes, be assured you have both my love and support now... and always. I'm so very proud to have you for my brother-in-law. God bless you, darling Tom". At that Mary reached up and gently kissed Tom's cheek.
Tom blushed scarlet, felt his own eyes mist with tears; overcome with embarrassment at the genuine feeling and heartfelt sincerity so clearly evident in the accolade which Mary had just bestowed upon him.
"I suppose, I'd better go and find that cab" he said huskily.
"Yes, I suppose you should" said Mary quietly. "Now where on earth's Sybil?"
At that, she turned away from Tom, not trusting to herself any longer to be able to keep her own emotions firmly in check.
"Ah, there she is" said Mary, catching sight of Sybil standing but a short distance away chatting animatedly with Edith. So saying, Mary turned on her heel and made her way briskly over to join her two sisters.
For a moment, Tom stood watching her slender retreating form. Then, he himself turned, and set off in search of a motor cab to take Mary and Edith back to the battered, bomb damaged splendour of the Shelbourne Hotel.
While Mary and Sybil chatted, Edith walked a short distance away and stood gazing up at the majestic statue of Lord Nelson placed atop the soaring Doric column which formed the greater part of the Pillar; saw the doorway which opened onto the spiral staircase within, and by which access was gained to the narrow, vertigo inducing, viewing platform high above her, and which, in turn, for those able to pay 6d. for the privilege and then be both hale and hearty enough to climb the one hundred and sixty eight steps of the staircase to the very top, afforded them a matchless bird's eye view, north, south, east, and west, across and beyond the sprawling city of Dublin astride the Liffey river.
Then she turned her attention to the inscription at its base:
"By the blessing of Almighty God To Commemorate the Transcendent Heroic Achievements of the Right Honourable Horatio Lord Viscount Nelson Duke of Bronti in Sicily, Vice-Admiral of the White Squadron of his Majesty's Fleet, Who fell gloriously in the Battle of Cape Trafalgar On the 21st Day of October, 1805..."
"How utterly sad and wretched" she said softly, stifling a silent sob, unaware that, among the constant crowd of people thronging round the base of the statue, many of them themselves seeking motor cabs and trams, Tom had come to stand quietly beside her. He reached out and placed a comforting arm gently around Edith's shoulders.
"Aye, agreed, but, do you know Edith, although I don't suppose in fact that you do, but I once told Sybil that sometimes awful sacrifices have to be made for a future that's worth having". Tom nodded towards the Portland stone figure atop the column, "Maybe he knew that", he said softly.
"Perhaps. I should like to think that he did" said Edith quietly. At that, she turned to face Tom, reached forward and took both his hands in hers. "Tom, I want to thank you once again for all you did for me earlier today. As Mary said, in all honesty I don't know what I, what any of us, would have done without you today. I mean that; from the bottom of my heart. Really I do".
"Edith..." began Tom. He flushed red to the roots of his hair.
"No, please Tom, let me finish. There's something else too. I want you to know that whatever the future holds for all of us, that from now on, for always, both you and Sybil will have my love, my support, and be in my prayers".
Edith paused, looked up at Tom through glistening eyes. Her voice faltered. Tom smiled, waiting for her to compose herself. She smiled, conveying to him a silent message of heartfelt thanks. "And... and while darling Sybil is incredibly blessed in gaining you as her husband, I'm so incredibly proud to be gaining you as my brother-in-law. God bless you, darling Tom". At that Edith reached up and gently kissed Tom's cheek.
Tom blushed, embarrassed once again, this time by the undoubted fervour and sincerity of the tribute Edith had just paid him.
He nodded.
The dusk drew down about them.
She shivered.
"Come, there's a chill in the air" said Tom in the most prosaic of tones, and at the same time gently offering Edith his arm just as if they were walking into dinner at Downton Abbey, "the cab's waiting".