‘Okay.’
He went out of the room.
Emily tried to pull herself together. Did her mother know about this? Is this why she was so upset about her buying it? But why hadn’t she warned her? Why hadn’t she spoken up when she was so opposed to her buying it? Why never talk about it when they visited before?
Of course her mother had said that she arrived in 1950 and had never known the Wards.
She leafed through the clips. She didn’t believe in ghosts, but it still freaked her out to think that something bad could have happened in Eveline. But truly, thinking of the house she couldn’t believe that. It was a happy house. She had felt a lovely energy the moment she had stepped inside. Tentatively she began to look at the newspaper clippings.
A picture of Violet Ward. It looked like a very professional photo. Emily surmised that as she was a playwright there would have been some publicity photos taken. She was so like Vivien Leigh it was uncanny. Another photo of Violet and her husband at a charity do in Dublin. They were very debonair. A family portrait with their daughter with a doll in her hand. Emily looked at the doll. She was sure it was the doll with the broken face. The child was utterly beautiful. Almost angelic. The cuttings of the articles were there in black and white.
Playwright Missing in Draheen. Suspicion of Murder.A photo of her husband with a tormented look on his face, getting into a car and trying to shield his face with a newspaper.
Woman Vanishes without Trace. Another picture – this time of her at a theatre in London. It said it was taken the previous year in 1949 at the premiere of her play.
What Became of the Jeweller’s Daughter?A photo of the child Gerry had called Sylvia.
Then Emily picked up a clipping that made her gasp for breath.
Girl Beaten Up in Blythe Wood.
A young girl called Peggy McCormick who works for Miss Doheny was left beaten and badly shaken in Blythe Wood. She somehow made her way to the church where she was found partly conscious by Father Quill. But for his quick discovery of her, the young girl would surely have died.
Emily felt the blood drain from her head.
A photo showed a young teenage girl sitting beside a nun. Her head was wrapped in a bandage and her face looked battered.
Gerry arrived back in. ‘You look like you have seen a ghost!’
‘This girl in this photo? What do you know of her?’ Emily whispered.
Gerry studied the photo. ‘Oh yes, the poor girl who worked for a Miss Doheny. What was her name? Oh, look, it says it there. Peggy McCormick. Well, the story is that she knew something about the disappearance of Violet Ward. But it seems she was beaten up quite badly and almost left for dead in Blythe Wood. Nobody ever knew who gave her the beating. It may not have had any connection to the Ward family. She refused to speak and the gardaí thought she was a bit disturbed. They said her mother was locked up in an asylum so it was possibly in the family. Poor girl. I think she was from Tipperary or somewhere. She never returned to Miss Doheny’s shop. She was sent to a convent to be cared for by the nuns. I have no idea where she went after that. Doheny’s grocery shop had been there for generations but shortly afterwards Miss Doheny closed it and went to live with her sister in Dublin. It was all quite soon after the family disappeared. I don’t know what became of the young McCormick girl. She could have ended up anywhere.’
Emily knew she had to get out of the office. She got to her feet. ‘Sorry – I need to go – all this has been a bit of a shock.’
‘Yes, indeed.’ He got to his feet. ‘It is a shocking story but a very intriguing one. I do hope you settle into Eveline. It’s good to see it opened again.’
‘Thank you so much,’ Emily managed to say.
He escorted her to the door. ‘No problem and, if you want to know any more about it, let me know. But I should warn you – the people of Draheen don’t talk much about it. It threw a dark shadow over the town that they soon wanted to rid themselves of. They wanted to keep their reputation as a good Christian town intact. Most that remember it are now gone. As a young journalist decades later, when I first got interested in it, I found it was a closed shop. Swept under the carpet.’
‘I understand.’
‘Well, good luck in Eveline.’
‘Thank you – I really appreciate your help.’
Emily tried not to shake as she left and walked to her car. She sat in and, trembling, put the key in the ignition. Then, like a bang, another memory hit her hard. She was in Draheen before with her mother. She remembered the well and Blythe Wood. There was the aroma of wild garlic everywhere. She had hopped and skipped and chased the butterflies that seemed abundant in the pretty woods. She was very young. Jack was with them. She remembered playing but also remembered her mother crying and crying. No wonder her mother was shaken when she had mentioned Draheen! But why had she lied and said that she knew nothing of the Ward family?
Her mobile rang. It was Jack.
‘Sis, you must come. Mam has gone in an ambulance. I think it’s her heart.’ He sounded petrified.
‘Oh my God.’
‘Sis, she looked bad. Really bad.’ Jack’s voice was hoarse.
‘I am on my way.’
Emily tore down the motorway. What had she done? She felt responsible. She wanted to throw the letter she had found out on the motorway. It was as if she had opened up a nightmare. Her mother had been beaten and left for dead in Blythe Wood. No wonder she wanted Emily to have nothing to do with Draheen! Did she know something about what happened? Emily felt sick thinking of the first Sunday when she had mentioned the house. She didn’t listen to her despite her obvious distress. Now she could die.
‘Please don’t let her die!’ Emily cried. She would never forgive herself.
CHAPTER 28
Emily drove into Waterford City. She went over the bridge, turned right and followed the road for the hospital.
Jack was outside the entrance to the A & E, having a cigarette. He had a baseball cap on, a black leather jacket and black jeans. He looked up with relief when he saw Emily, putting the cigarette out in a cigarette disposal bin and going towards her. Emily was shocked at his appearance. His face was grey and it was as if he had aged years since she saw him last. To her shock there were tears in his eyes.
‘I was watching a movie. I hadn’t come out to the kitchen for hours. She was on the floor. I thought she was dead. Emily, she might have cried out for help and I didn’t hear her. She could die and it will be my fault.’
Emily put her arm around him and tried to comfort him.
‘Jack, of course it’s not your fault. It was lucky that you did find her. Where is she now? What’s happening?’
‘She’s in ICU or some high-tech heart-unit place. They said they would know more in a little while.’
‘Come on and I will see if I can talk to anyone,’ she said.
They found a nurse who said a doctor would speak to them shortly. Emily grabbed them both a cup of tea from a machine while they waited.
Eventually a doctor arrived. Young and hassled-looking. He sat down beside them where they were sitting in the corridor.
‘Your mother has had a stroke, but she is now stable. We will know how badly affected she is in a few hours. I am sorry but that is all I can tell you now.’
Emily thanked him and they began to wait.
Hours passed and it was not looking good.
Emily decided to call Sebastian.
‘I’m sorry, love. I wasn’t sure whether to call you or not,’ she sobbed.
‘Of course you were right to call me. I will get the next plane home and don’t worry about collecting me. Don’t leave. I will get there as soon as I can. How’s Jack holding up?’
‘Not good to be honest.’
‘Tell him I am on my way. Love you, Mom. Talk later.’
She felt another stab of guilt. She was going through the motions and trying to comfort Jack who was eaten up by guilt. But unknown to Jack it was she who felt responsible.
She was devastated to think she had somehow brought her mother to this. But telling him would make it even more real. But she couldn’t let him think it was in any way his fault. If it was anyone’s it was hers, not poor Jack’s.
They slept on the seats in the hospital and eventually at about five o’clock in the morning the doctor told them that she was more stable and had begun to come around. They could see her one by one for a moment or two.
‘You go first, sis,’ Jack offered.
Emily took a deep breath and went in.
Her mother was hooked up to a machine that was monitoring her heart and her vital signs. There was a drip into her vein.
‘Oh Mam!’ Emily cried.
‘It’s alright. I’m still here,’ her mother whispered.
Her breathing became laboured then and a nurse asked Emily if she would allow her to rest.
The tears were rolling down Emily’s face.
Outside Jack looked terrified. Emily gave him a hug.
‘It’s okay, Jack. It’s okay.’
‘She could have died.’
‘Jack, Mum was upset with me for buying Eveline House. She had warned me not to. This is not your fault. If it’s anyone’s it’s mine. I obviously opened up some old wounds.’
The nurse overheard them and approached.
‘I know how upsetting this is. But it’s important for both of you to know that your mother’s illness is not your fault. She is one of the lucky ones. She is still with us.’
Emily could have hugged her. Whether it was true or not, Jack and herself needed someone to tell them that. If not, they would be destroyed with guilt.
‘Thank you,’ Emily whispered.
‘Go in for moment and see her,’ Emily encouraged Jack.
When he came back out he looked calmer.
‘She’s sleeping. I need a fag. I’ll be back in a few minutes.’
He walked out, head bent.
Sebastian’s flight landed the following morning and he got a taxi straight to the hospital. When he saw Emily, he ran up and grabbed her in a big bear hug.
He sat with Peggy and she could see how much he meant to her mother.
Even Jack seemed a little lighter now that Sebastian was home. They took turns staying with her and at no point did they leave her.
Emily had to reschedule some of her appointments. The painter, the electrician and the plumber were due to begin working on the house so she had to put them off until she got back.
The days passed and her mother got stronger. She never mentioned Eveline or Draheen.
It wasn’t until Sebastian had persuaded Emily to go for a bite to eat in Dunmore East that she told him what she had found out. She had not said anything to Jack.
‘Holy fuck!’ he said when she finished. ‘Sorry, Mam, but that is quite a story. Poor Gran. It makes sense somehow. There was always something so sad about Gran as if she saw life as something to get through. I love her dearly as you well know, but let’s face it she would never have been the happiest person. She always seemed to be quite sad. Well, except when she was at a Daniel O’Donnell show. All those statues and prayers. Maybe that’s why she’s so holy. It’s her salvation from all this. Poor Gran!’
‘I feel it’s all a bit of a mess. I wish I had never seen that advert for Eveline. Then perhaps she would never have had the stroke,’ Emily said, tears flowing down her face.
‘You can’t think like that. Let’s go up to the house in the morning and have a snoop around. Jack will be fine with Gran tomorrow. You always say things happen for a reason. I think you were meant to find Eveline House. It’s all very strange about Gran being there, but it might not be connected at all.’
***
The next morning, they left for Eveline as dawn was breaking.
Emily had filled Jack in on everything the evening before. He had taken it well.
‘Look, sis, you were not to know. Maybe we will have to stop blaming ourselves,’ he had said.
Sebastian walked into the house.
‘Wow, Mom, it’s just gorgeous!’
He walked around admiring the drawing room, the carved staircase, the study, the parlour. Then he walked into the kitchen area.
‘What do you think, seriously?’ Emily asked him. ‘You’re an architect after all.’
‘Mom, you are a clever lady. It’s an incredibly beautiful house and I think you got it for a steal.’ He gave her a massive hug. ‘Stop worrying – all will be okay in the end.’
Sebastian looked in every nook and cranny.
‘Okay, I love it but there is something about it. Maybe it’s what you have told me already influencing me here. But it is an old house, it is bound to have secrets held within its walls.’
‘Yes. Whatever the secrets of the past, I still love the house.’
They spent the next couple of hours looking at colours and fabrics. The renovation was going to cost more than her nest-egg could cover, but she had gone to the bank and it would mean taking out just a small loan.
‘Do you have a name for your business yet, Mom?’
‘No, not yet. But I do need to come up with one for my website. Any ideas?’
‘How about simply “Emily O’Connor Bridal Couture, Eveline House”. On a beautiful sign on the way in. In gold, of course.’
‘You think my name rather than something made up?’
‘Mom, people will want an Emily O’Connor creation. Think Vera Wang. You need your name up there and you do create a design from scratch to suit each bride.’
‘I think you nailed it,’ Emily said with a grin.
‘Great. Let’s check out somewhere nice for lunch. And I have to see the shop where Gran used to work. See if we can find any clues. This Blythe Wood – we’ll have to check that out too. Come on!’
‘Yes, let’s do that. I wouldn’t dare go to the woods again without your company.’
‘You know, Mom, I have a feeling that the truth is about to come out about the history of Eveline House. Hope poor Gran is up to it.’
‘I know. It’s as if a door to the past has opened and there is no going back.’
PART 3
CHAPTER 29
Chatham, Cape Cod 2019
The dream visited Sylvia again.
She could see the staircase and her mother standing at the top. Her white delicate hand resting on the banister with her diamond ring and wedding band on her ring finger. Her gold bracelets catching the light. She is dressed in a silk jade-green dress with pearls resting on her delicate neckline. She is calling her, her voice soft like velvet. ‘Sylvia, Sylvia, where are you?’ Her voice fading. Her dark hair has a silver comb with jewels resting in it. In the dream Sylvia is calling back to her, but it is as if her voice is choked, silent.
The air has the hint of a yellow sparse flower called wintersweet. Betsy likes to put them in the earthenware jug on the coffee table beside the chaise longue.
Then the dream shifts down to the parlour. The fire is lighting, glasses shine ready for drinks. She can see from an outside lamp that light flakes of snow are falling like confetti.
Then the dream moves to the kitchen. Betsy is like a busy bee getting ready with trays of canapés and shooing the cat from the window by throwing a sliver of sheep’s liver outside for it to devour.
Then that fades and an image of her father appears. He is in Blythe Wood. The air is filled with the scent of rotting twigs and rotting earth. She can see the ravens nesting in the high trees. Her father is weeping and falls to his knees. His hands cover his face. She tries to reach him, but she can’t. Then the wood is full of blood, a river of blood gushing down between the trees but when she looks it is coming from her own body. The red blood is thick and is beginning to congeal. The wood is now thick with the congealed blood. She cannot walk through it.
The image changes again. She is back in her childhood bedroom in Eveline. Petite Suzanne has a blue satin bonnet and a cream silk coat with pearl buttons, the doll’s original red coat and hat set asid
e. Her hair is pinned up under the bonnet. Her other dolls are laid out on the pink satin quilt. The air has changed and has a hint of jasmine and a memory of roses. She reaches out to pick up her doll, but the doll slips through her fingers. She tries frantically to save her but then she hears the crash. Her doll’s face has shattered into a million smithereens. The pieces floating like dust and catching the light from the open window. Floating away. She desperately tries to catch the fragments but like dust they disappear.
Sylvia awakes from her dream with a start.
It was dark in the bedroom. The light was on in the hall, throwing a low golden hue near the door. The light bedspread felt heavy on her fragile bones. The window was slightly opened, and she could hear the sea. The soft hum of the water ebbing and flowing. Instantly it began to calm her.
It was what had drawn her here all those years ago to this house. It was far from anyone that she had ever known, and it was near the sea. She felt her brow – it was warm. She pushed her hair away from her face. Her body felt weak as a kitten’s but her mind as clear as crystal. Her mouth was dry.
Her eyes became accustomed to the light. She switched on her bedside lamp. She looked over at the dressing table. Her dresser full of bottles, potions and some medication.
She called for Max. It had frightened her. Why now, why would it all come back and so clearly? So many years she had dreamed of her mother but why now all these years later should it be so clear? Why was the memory so strong? Her mother forever young and beautiful in those memories. Her elegance and grace and the way her eyes had a glint of melancholy. But she could still feel the love that she had from her, a love so very pure that it had lasted the test of time.
Eveline was still in the recesses of her mind. She could never forget that house. The scent of violets from the garden. The Christmas roses peeking from the kitchen window where Betsy always had some hot cocoa for her. A house so full of memories that she had tried so hard to close the door on it. But in the darkness of the night the door could open. But it had not happened for a long time. She had managed to keep it away. Filling her days and always trying not to remember.
The Secret of Eveline House Page 20
