The Woman Outside My Door

by Rachel Ryan

  “I’ve never told you about my aunt and uncle, have I? I try not to mention them. They didn’t have any kids of their own, and we would go to stay with them from time to time. I don’t remember liking my aunt much. She was a cold woman. All I remember about my uncle, really—from before this—is that we used to play hurling together.”

  Georgina was stock-still.

  “My aunt wouldn’t call Anne by name. ‘That tramp,’ she kept calling her. We were all summoned to the front room—except Billy, who was only twelve. He was told to go out and play. He went willingly, frightened by the atmosphere in the house.

  “Anne stood in the middle of the room like she was on trial. Our uncle wasn’t present, but his wife was ready to defend him. She said that Anne was a whore, that some time with the nuns would be good for her even if she wasn’t pregnant. She said our uncle had been drunk, that Anne had tempted him… All the things I recognize now as the stories predators tell when they’re caught. But at sixteen, Georgina, I didn’t understand. I just thought—our uncle?

  “Anne tiptoed into my room that night and tried to tell me more. ‘I didn’t let him, Jimmy,’ she said. ‘The last time we went to stay with them, he made me.’

  “God forgive me, Georgina, but I didn’t want to know. I wanted to pretend none of this was happening. I wanted it to be a month before, when I didn’t know anything was growing in Anne’s belly and I was playing hurling with my uncle and everything was normal.

  “Anne said, ‘Ma and Dad don’t believe me. They’re sending me away, and they said they won’t let me come back again.’

  “I didn’t think our parents meant that last bit. I knew they’d send Anne to a home, some grim place where pregnant girls were hidden away by the nuns. And I knew she’d come back without a baby—keeping the baby just wasn’t done, not in nice families like ours. But I thought she would come back.”

  Jimmy spoke fast.

  “The parish priest came to collect her the next morning. ‘It’s the best place, Anne,’ he told her. ‘For a girl like you.’ She sobbed and argued. When our parents were unmoved, she turned to me. ‘Jimmy, please,’ she said. ‘Jimmy, don’t let them.’

  “It was too much to bear. I turned to my father, but before I could speak, he had my arm in this viselike grip. He said: ‘Shut your mouth, Jimmy, or I’ll break your arm. Now go up to your room and close the door. And don’t breathe a word of this to anyone, ever, or I’ll kill you.’

  “I did as I was told. I turned my back on my sister and walked up the stairs. When my father’s temper got like that… Somewhere inside, I was four years old, pissing on a shop floor again.

  “I was lying on my bed when Anne was loaded into the car. I heard her crying. I heard the car drive away.

  “I never saw my sister again.

  “When Billy arrived home, he demanded to know, with all his twelve-year-old defiance, where Anne was. Our father hit him so hard he loosened two teeth. That was the last time Anne’s name was mentioned in our house.” Jimmy paused, then said in a voice so low it was barely audible, “Our uncle was invited around for Christmas dinner that year.”

  There was a silence. Georgina could hear cars on the street. A child’s shout. When it became clear Jimmy was finished, she asked, “Why would she want to take Cody?”

  “Because all her life she’s been alone.” Jimmy closed his eyes. “She ran away from the nuns and tried to come home. I heard my parents discussing it. She came to the house while Billy and I were at school. They turned her away at the door.

  “They said she went to England. A lot of young people went to England in those days, to find a bit of work, to try to survive…”

  Georgina had thought she had no room left for shock, but she’d been wrong. A fresh stab hit her as several pieces of information fell into place.

  “And you haven’t seen her in fifty years? Are you telling me you never tried to find her?”

  Jimmy kept his eyes shut.

  “Every day of my life,” he whispered, “I’ve thought of her.”

  “But you never went looking for her? Never even tried?”

  “I was ashamed.” Jimmy had never cried in front of his daughter. Not even at Rose’s funeral. But tears leaked from under his closed eyelids now. “And with every year I didn’t look for her, the shame grew worse. What would I have said to her, after all that time? How could I ever have apologized enough?”

  He began to sob.

  “When I heard her voice on the phone, I thought I was going to collapse then and there. As it turned out, I managed to hang in ’til the end of the conversation. She told me her baby was a boy. ‘I only had one child,’ she said. ‘Like you. But they took mine away from me.’

  “She said, ‘I should have been a mother, I should have been a grandmother. But look at me now. I’m all alone. My son’s out there somewhere. I’ll never know him. While you… you get everything, but you don’t deserve it.’ ” Jimmy repeated the words as though he might believe them himself. “ ‘You’re the one who deserves to be alone!’

  “In the hospital, when I woke to find that photo by my bed… It was like the past was chasing me. I ran. I wasn’t thinking straight…”

  I should have been a grandmother. Georgina thought of Mark’s words: Cody was so happy to see her. And that card: Lots of love, Granny xxx.

  “How can this be real, Georgina? How can Anne have taken Cody? She wouldn’t hurt him, I’m sure of it…” The shock seemed to have sent Jimmy’s mind wandering. “Our grandparents were always kind to us. They were the ones who gave us those toffees in the golden wrappers. We spent summers on their farm in Kerry. I remember playing hide-and-seek with Anne and Billy among the haystacks…”

  Georgina checked the time. The police would be here soon, but what good was that? She had nothing to tell them. Despite everything she’d learned, she still had no idea where Anne had taken Cody.

  “Dad, can you think of any place she might have taken him?”

  In that same far-off voice Jimmy said, “I feel sure that I’ll wake up any minute and this’ll all have been a bad dream.”

  “Dad, please try to think. You said your grandparents were kind. When they came up to visit you in Dublin, did they ever take you for days out?”

  “Yes, sometimes. They’d take us to Howth Head on the train. Me and Anne loved those days. On the way home, we got chips.”

  “Okay, maybe Howth. And was there anywhere else that—”

  She stopped. She went still. Howth.

  Something was coming back to her. The conversation she’d had with Anthony, earlier that afternoon. A lifetime ago.

  She recalled Anthony’s voice: I’m taking Lily to Howth… there’s a market on there… good for kiddies.

  And Patrick’s: His new granny promised she’d buy him cotton candy.

  Howth Head. A peninsula off north Dublin. A pretty seaside village. A place where Anne had happy memories with her grandparents.

  And a market where cotton candy might be sold.

  Georgina leapt to her feet. “I think I know where she’s taken him.”

  Jimmy looked dazed. “Where are you—”

  “When the Guards get here, tell them everything you just told me.”

  “Georgina, wait,” Jimmy said brokenly. “I’m sorry. I can’t bear… Forgive me, Georgina. Please forgive me.”

  But Georgina was already rushing from the room, leaving her father among the dust of his scattered memories.

  Chapter 42

  Georgina left Jimmy’s room in a state of shock that rendered the whole world unfamiliar. Everything seemed warped at the edges, unreal. It felt like she was hallucinating, like nothing would ever be the same again.

  She broke into a run. Past the mousy-haired woman at the desk, who looked up, confused, out of the B&B, and down the street. She leapt into her car.

  Memories kept coming to her. Jimmy, refusing to watch The Magdalene Sisters. Jimmy, holding out a jar of gold-wrapped toffees. Jimmy, constan
tly discouraging her from visiting Billy in the nursing home. Georgina understood now. Her father had been afraid that Billy, in his confused state, would let something slip that would bring the half-a-century-old secret into the present.

  As she pulled out from the curb, she called Bren and let him know she was going to Howth.

  “You’re what? Georgina, what the fuck are you doing? The Guards are going to be at the B&B any second now. Turn back!”

  “Have they found Anne McGrath?”

  But her hopes that the police would have put the name through some database and pulled up an address were smashed.

  “No, but they’re going to the B&B and they’re expecting you to be there!”

  Georgina kept her foot on the accelerator.

  “How will that help? I don’t know anything my dad doesn’t! But if she brought Cody to Howth…”

  The phone was commandeered by the now irate-sounding Guard she had spoken to earlier. He ordered her to go back to the B&B. His colleagues, he informed her, had just arrived there. “You’re not helping us by doing this.”

  I learned the kidnapper’s identity, Georgina thought. That’s information we wouldn’t have if I’d stayed put.

  “It’s where her grandparents used to take her. And it ties into Patrick’s comment about cotton candy…” She ran through her theory. Again the Guard urged her to turn around. Georgina made some conciliatory sounds for the sake of ending the call, but after hanging up she continued speeding towards the coast, driving like a lunatic. If a cop car tried to pull her over now, she’d only step down harder on the accelerator.

  Turn back? When she knew the most likely place this unstable woman had taken her son?

  There was no force in the world strong enough to compel Georgina to turn around now.

  * * *

  Howth Head was a peninsula, jutting out from the coast of Dublin into the Irish Sea. With a pretty village on the hill, a harbor, and a spectacular view from the summit, it was a popular spot among Dublin families for days out. People brought their kids for strolls along the pier or hikes up the hill.

  They’d take us to Howth Head on the train. Me and Anne loved those days.

  Large portions of the headland, too mountainous and craggy to be built on, remained untamed. Sheer sea cliffs and hills of wild gorse were edged by rocky, rugged beaches. At the end of the peninsula stood an isolated lighthouse, casting its lonely beam across the water.

  It was in this direction that Georgina drove, along the coast road, away from the bustle and noise of Dublin’s city center. The night sky was clearing. The moon was huge. The sea stretched out inky black to her right.

  I’m coming, Cody. Fast as I can.

  It was hard for her to focus on anything other than the overwhelming terror she felt for her child. Her blood was pounding in her ears, and every beat of her thudding heart screamed Cody’s name. But somewhere in the background, other thoughts jumbled about, thoughts that Georgina couldn’t begin to process. Information she knew would take months, maybe years, to wrap her head around.

  A teenage girl arriving in a strange country. Homeless, penniless, alone. Hoping, perhaps, that her big brother would come looking for her. While he never did. Just settled down, got a comfortable job, got married, had a child of his own—and never breathed her name again. Buried her memory as if she were a shameful secret.

  Now those lies were splitting open, cracks spreading, their foundation shattering, and this woman had taken Cody, she’d taken Cody—

  “Forgive me,” Jimmy had said. But Georgina couldn’t even begin to think about that.

  Let her get her child back safely. Then they could talk about forgiveness.

  Chapter 43

  The traffic grew thicker as she reached Howth Harbor. “Come on! Move!” Georgina thumped a fist against the steering wheel as she was forced to slow to a crawl.

  By the picturesque waterfront, the market was in full flow. Chip vans, food stalls, a packed parking lot. People crowded the concrete: couples hand in hand, parents shouting at small children to stay close. The sky had cleared. The moon hung huge and white over the pier and the boats moored at the water’s edge.

  The car in front of her moved slowly, searching for a parking spot. Swearing, Georgina pulled onto the curb and parked haphazardly on double yellow lines.

  She leapt out, slammed the door, and stared at the melee. How was she ever going to find them in this?

  And if she did find them, would she be able to deal with Anne by herself?

  But her next thought was simply Cody, just her son’s name on a single beat, and with it came the calm knowledge that she would do anything necessary to get him safely away.

  She started off towards the food stalls. Shouts and laughter carried on the cold air. Her eyes scanned the crowd desperately. There were children in all directions—laughing, running, playing; or tired, being carried, heads resting on parents’ shoulders.

  But she didn’t see the face she was looking for.

  A child screamed. Georgina spun around, but it was a little girl, mouth stretched open into a wail. Her chocolate-covered treat had hit the ground. “I want another!” she sobbed. Georgina spun in a different direction: a bunch of teenagers passed, laughing, all teeth in the dark. Faces seemed to rush by faster and faster.

  But still no sign of her son.

  She walked back towards the parking lot. It was darker here, away from the light of the food vans and restaurant fronts. She stared furiously at the passing crowds, her eyes picking out the shapes of children, searching and searching.

  Maybe they weren’t here at all. Panic was rising, the fear that she was like a dog chasing its own tail, spinning fruitlessly… But she bit that fear down and tried to remain calm. She needed a course of action. Should she try walking to the pier, or should she double back and—

  That was when she saw him.

  Cody was standing at the far end of the parking lot. He was in animated conversation with a gray-haired woman who had her back to Georgina. The woman was opening the door of a blue car.

  Cody.

  His tousled dark hair, his bright eyes, his happy chocolate-smudged face. Alive, well, and right there.

  Every atom of Georgina’s being wanted to shout, scream, run to her son. It took everything she had to restrain that instinct. If she caught the woman’s—Anne’s—attention, she might throw Cody into the car and speed away up the hill before Georgina could reach them.

  She forced herself to approach slowly, keeping to the grassy verge and the shadows. If she walked up the brightly lit center of the parking lot, Anne would recognize her. She’d been watching their house. She knew Georgina’s face.

  Anne half turned in Georgina’s direction as Cody climbed into the back of the car. Georgina was acutely aware of each step she took. Was this a natural gait? Did she look suspicious?

  Cody was in the back seat now.

  There were no more than ten cars between them and, seen more clearly, Anne did not look as elderly as Georgina had imagined. She was Jimmy’s younger sister, of course, and that didn’t make her enormously old—though Cody would have referred to any older gray-haired female as an “old woman,” his seven-year-old eyes unable to differentiate between people in their sixties or those in their eighties.

  Anne wore jeans and a red fleece. Her gray hair was short, but unkempt and straggly. She looked stocky.

  She glanced up suddenly, her gaze sweeping all around. Georgina’s heart froze, but she forced herself to keep walking at the same pace, head slightly down. Act natural. Stay calm.

  Anne’s attention returned to the car. It was a battered-looking blue Volvo. Cody was frowning in innocent concentration, eating something chocolate-covered off a stick. Anne’s mouth was moving, saying something to him as she leaned in to buckle his seat belt. Georgina couldn’t make out the words, but she was close enough to see Anne ruffle Cody’s hair affectionately.

  Four cars’ distance now.

  Anne looked
around again, and this time, Georgina was too close to hope she wouldn’t be recognized. She dropped into a crouch, pretending to tie her shoelace.

  Her heart was in her mouth. Had it worked? Would she do better to jump up and rush them?

  Then she heard the voices. Drifting towards her, distant but audible. Cody’s clear, beloved voice:

  “… the best holiday ever? And chocolate for breakfast every day?”

  “The best holiday ever.”

  Anne spoke with a faint British tinge after all her years in England. Her conversational voice was a jarring shock to Georgina’s senses.

  “You’ll love Kerry,” that voice continued. “You can have chocolate for breakfast, lunch, and dinner if you like. You can do whatever you want. Maybe we’ll go to England afterwards, would you like that?”

  For the first time in her life, Georgina understood the phrase “her blood ran cold.” There was a roaring in her ears. Cody was saying something in response, but she couldn’t decipher the words.

  She straightened up. Anne was getting into the Volvo. In a moment she would be driving, taking Cody away.

  Georgina broke into a run.

  Anne looked up, her blue eyes—the same deep blue as Jimmy’s, as Cody’s—wide with surprise. If she had collected herself immediately, she would have had just enough time to sit down and slam the door before Georgina could stop her.

  But she didn’t.

  Too late, Anne tried to jump into the driver’s seat, but Georgina collided with her, grabbing her wrists.

  With surprising strength, Anne slammed Georgina back against the car. Then the two women were grappling, desperately. Somewhere in the background, Georgina heard Cody’s startled voice: “Mom?”

  “Cody!” she cried, and then her feet slipped as Anne threw her weight against her. Georgina fell backwards, hard, against the hood of the car. The sky stretched above her, the moon huge—then Anne’s face loomed into view.

  “You’re ruining it!” Her eyes were glassy. Georgina struggled, but Anne was heavy on top of her.