The Secret Journey by James Hanley Page A

Moreover, I didn’t do it without a certain amount of misgiving. I mean, I thought, and still do think, that the fees they charged were far, far too high.’
    â€˜So you’re beginning to see daylight, then,’ said Maureen, ‘What have we got to do with that? We ought to keep clear of that sort of thing. We must move from this street.’
    â€˜That’s not answering my question, Maureen. Maybe I should have put my foot down at once. But I didn’t. I was sorry about your mother, and, of course, I have quite regular work. Come to think of it, this can’t go on for ever, can it? I mean, the loan your mother had will be paid back some time. But I’m not going to shuffle out of a thing like that. I couldn’t, anyhow.’
    Maureen went livid with rage.
    â€˜It means you won’t—you don’t want to. I’m not thought about in the matter. Joe, are you crazy? Can’t you go and do something?’
    Joseph Kilkey laughed. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I can do something. I can go to bed. I’ve something better to do than to sit up listening to you. I have work to go to. Understand this: I can’t get out of that affair. I’m bound to stand by what I’ve done until that loan is paid. It’s no use having any regrets. You asked me, and I did it. Why did you burn the note?’
    â€˜Oh! I don’t know. I just burnt it, that’s all. Oh, leave me alone. You irritate me. You get on my nerves with your soft heart, and your content, and your patience. You bore me—you drive me crazy just looking at you. You don’t care about anything. You’re content to sit here day after day and do nothing.’
    â€˜What more can I do?’ asked Mr. Kilkey. ‘It would suit you much better if you sat down and thought over things coolly, instead of frittering away your time thinking of what you wanted to do, and what you might have done. I know just how you feel. At heart you don’t really like me. But you aren’t so horrid about it as your mother. You want to be off. To be doing things. You ought to settle down. You have a child—a home—and a husband: if you don’t settle down soon there’ll be something happening that you won’t like.’
    Joseph Kilkey went up to his wife, and put his arms round her.
    â€˜Oh, you leave me alone,’ she shouted, pushing him off. ‘Leave me alone. Why I married you, heaven knows.’
    Joseph Kilkey burst out laughing.
    â€˜You don’t know why, Maureen? You’re less honest than I thought. You married me because you were glad to get me, didn’t you? That’s why, and you know it. But you’re not contented. All your family are the same. I have a certain respect for the woman who brought up that family—but there’s a limit to that. You all want the impossible. That’s the curse of it. All want the impossible. What has been denied you? Only what has been denied to thousands of people. But a good many of these people have sense. They make the best of things. Get this silly idea out of your head that you’re different from anybody else. You’re not. And it only makes you restless, conceited. It gives people swelled head. Keep in mind that we’re just ordinary folk—ordinary, but sane—and we’ll get on a lot better. Look at me. I can …’
    â€˜Look at you! Yes, look at you, and then look at Desmond. There’s a difference, isn’t it? How long did Desmond remain wielding a hammer? Not long. Look where he is now.’
    â€˜Yes. Look where he is,’ snapped Mr. Kilkey. He had turned pale, a quite unusual thing. Maureen stepped back from him as though he were going to strike her. ‘Yes. Look at him. He can’t earn the respect of a decent man. Who wants that? I don’t. I’m not worried about Desmond. Sometimes I think that when your mother was a girl somebody poisoned her—somebody