Free The Secret Journey by James Hanley Page A

boy, “Joey, my boy, you’ve a tremendous head with nothing in it.” I took that to heart. I like quietness and I like peace. I like to come home of an evening and sit down with my paper, I can have all my adventures reading the news. Then I read Dickens too. You ought to read Mr. Dickens. He’s a splendid writer. I’m now reading Our Mutual Friend .’ Mr. Kilkey was certainly feeling in an expansive frame of mind.
    The hands of the clock were moving. Peter got up to go.
    â€˜Perhaps I’d better walk up that far,’ he said. ‘Sorry she wasn’t in. I’ll come round again before I go.’ He went up and kissed the baby. As he held the small hand in his, he looked at Joseph Kilkey. ‘No! I could never have imagined that this was Maureen’s husband, this was Maureen’s baby.’ Certainly Mr. Kilkey was nothing out of the ordinary either in looks or brains, but he had an honest face.
    â€˜Well, so-long, Joe. See you again soon.’
    â€˜Sure,’ replied Joseph Kilkey. ‘How is your mother?’
    The two men stood in the lobby looking towards the front door.
    â€˜Mother seems the same as usual. But somehow she has changed too.’
    â€˜Your mother is good; always stand by her, whatever happens.’
    â€˜Yes,’ replied Peter, opening the door and putting one foot on the step. ‘So-long.’
    Joseph Kilkey returned to the kitchen. He put the child in the cradle, drew it up to the arm-chair in which he seated himself. He made himself quite comfortable, then, placing one foot upon the rocker, began a gentle rocking movement of the cradle. After a while, the flow of his thoughts seemed to become one with the rocking of the cradle.
    Suddenly he spoke aloud. ‘It’s hard to have to say it, but I’m just a little disappointed with Maureen.’ He leaned forward, and looked down at the now sleeping child. ‘Little wonder!’ he said. Here was something upon which he could spend his affection. Here was something that brought a new interest and a new light into his life. ‘Somehow,’ he was thinking, ‘somehow I feel Maureen isn’t quite satisfied. Isn’t quite happy. It’s the mother all over again.’ He cursed loudly, angry at ever allowing such thoughts to come into his mind. He tried to smother them, but one after another they emerged from their hiding-place. ‘They’re a discontented, restless crowd,’ he thought. The child was fast asleep. Joseph Kilkey got up and walked up and down the kitchen. ‘If she and Peter get together, heaven knows what time she’ll be back. Ah! there she is.’
    A key turned in the door. Maureen Kilkey came into the kitchen.
    â€˜Hello!’ They both seemed to make the exclamation together.
    â€˜Dermod asleep?’ she asked.
    â€˜Yes, fast asleep,’ replied Mr. Kilkey. ‘I’d like a bit of supper now. I want to get to bed. Your brother called here, waited about half an hour, and so I suggested he should walk up and meet you. He seemed keen on seeing you.’ He helped his wife off with her coat, and hung it up behind the door.
    â€˜I saw him,’ replied Maureen sharply, and the tone of her voice indicated that no more need be said upon that matter. She commenced getting supper ready. Mr. Kilkey, lying back in his chair, the evening paper at his feet, followed her every movement with a pair of admiring eyes. The woman hardly glanced at him.
    Maureen Kilkey was like her mother. Tall, slim, and of graceful bearing. Their characteristics were almost identical. There was something imperious about her carriage, she always seemed to look down at people—as though from the height of her own self-esteem. She had a head covered with fuzzy, copper-coloured hair. The eyes were deep grey in colour. The face was long, the nose slightly upturned, the mouth thin like her mother’s. It gave her a seriousness of expression