The Girl From Paradise Alley (ARC)

by Sandy Taylor

  Sister Luke was sitting up in front with the driver and I could hear her chatting away to him.

  ‘What’s with the nun?’ I said. ‘Is she the friend you’ve been telling me about?’

  ‘She is, Nora.’

  ‘I don’t understand, Mammy.’

  ‘I know you don’t, love. I know you don’t,’ she said, reaching across the seat and holding my hand. ‘But I’ll explain soon, I promise.’

  We eventually pulled into a long drive and as we got closer, I could see that the building in front of us was a convent. What were we doing at a convent? In fact, what were we doing in this country at all?

  * * *

  When I opened my eyes the following morning, the first thing I saw was Mammy, standing at the window, looking out over the gardens.

  ‘Have you been awake long?’ I said, pulling myself up in the bed.

  Mammy turned around. ‘Not long,’ she said. ‘Sister Luke came in earlier but she didn’t want to wake you.’

  ‘I must have been dead to the world.’

  ‘You were,’ said Mammy, coming across and sitting on the bed.

  ‘What are we doing here, Mammy?’

  She reached out and held my hand, ‘I will explain everything soon.’

  ‘Ah, you’re awake,’ said Sister Luke, coming into the room. ‘Now before you see Mother, Cissy, let’s get some breakfast down you, the pair of you must be in need of sustenance.’

  We’d hardly eaten since leaving Ireland and even though I was still feeling confused about why we were here, I realised that I was starving.

  ‘Sister Monica is cooking up a storm in the kitchen, and don’t worry, Cissy, she’s a better cook than she used to be,’ said Sister Luke, laughing. ‘She wouldn’t be out of place in a grand hotel these days.’

  ‘We all survived,’ said Mammy, smiling.

  ‘We did, we did,’ said Sister Luke.

  After we’d eaten, Mammy went off to see the Mother Superior and I went into the garden with Sister Luke. It was so peaceful here. The garden was beautiful, with statues of our Blessed Lady dotted about the lawn. It made me think of home. I was in a strange country but I was amongst my own kind. We passed two nuns on their knees, tending to the plants.

  Sister Luke introduced me. ‘Welcome home, Nora,’ said one of them, standing up. ‘I’d give you a hug, but I’m covered in soil.’

  She spoke to me as if she knew who I was, but that was ridiculous, as we’d never met. And why had she said ‘Welcome home’? This wasn’t my home. I’d never been here before. We continued to walk across the lawn. I stopped and looked back at the convent. ‘Was my mammy a nun, Sister Luke?’

  She laughed. ‘Good gracious, child, what put that into your head?’

  I shrugged my shoulders. I didn’t understand any of this. Everyone seemed to know my mammy, so if she hadn’t been a nun, then she must have worked here and if she had, then why was it never mentioned at home?

  We turned around and started to walk back. I saw Mammy standing on the steps leading up to the big wooden front door. She waved to me and I ran over to her.

  ‘Sister Luke is lovely,’ I said. ‘And she’s so funny. She speaks very highly of you, Mammy.’

  ‘They are all lovely, Nora, and you’re going to love Iggy.’

  ‘Who’s Iggy?’

  ‘She’s the mother superior. Her real name is Mother Ignatius but we all called her Iggy.’

  ‘How do you know them, Mammy?’

  She linked her arm through mine and we walked down the frosty lawn to an old bench. ‘This is where I used to sit with my friends, Nora,’ she said.

  ‘I asked Sister Luke if you had once been a nun.’

  Mammy laughed. ‘No, love, I was never a nun. I don’t think they would have taken me – I was far too opinionated.’

  ‘I don’t understand any of this.’

  Mammy took hold of my hand and held it in her lap. ‘What I am about to tell you, my darling girl, is going to come as a shock, and I hope that once I have told my story, you won’t hate me.’

  ‘I could never hate you, Mammy, why would you say such a thing?’

  She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. ‘This is where you were born, Nora, here in this convent.’

  ‘I was born here? In England? And not in Paradise Alley?’

  Mammy nodded.

  ‘But why? Why was I born here?’

  ‘Because I fell in love with a boy when I worked at the Hall.’

  ‘Was it Daddy? When he delivered the milk?’

  ‘No, love, it wasn’t your daddy. It was a lad with brown curly hair and blue eyes, who could charm the birds off the trees.’

  ‘Curly hair like mine?’

  ‘Just like yours, love, exactly like yours. I was a foolish girl, Nora, and I thought he loved me. I found myself pregnant with you. I was young and I was scared. I couldn’t shame my family and I couldn’t hurt Colm, your daddy, who I’d realised too late was the boy I truly loved.’

  I could feel hot tears stinging behind my eyes. ‘So, Daddy isn’t my daddy? And Grandad Doyle isn’t my grandad?’

  ‘Your daddy is your daddy, Nora; he always has been and he always will be. He couldn’t have loved you more if you had been his own child and it’s the same with your grandad – why, you’re more like him than his own son. There was never any question but that you belonged to them both. It isn’t just blood that makes a family, Nora – it’s being there for that person, it’s wanting the best for them, it’s caring more for them than you care for yourself. It’s love, Nora, and they have always loved you. Your daddy didn’t want me to bring you here. He was scared that once you knew who your real father was, you wouldn’t love him anymore, but he knew in his heart that you had a right to know the truth.’

  ‘How did you end up in London?’

  ‘Father Kelly arranged for me to come to England, to come here to this place. I told your granny and Colm that I had a job here. I left everyone I loved and travelled to a strange country. I didn’t know what lay ahead of me and I was lost but I knew it was the only thing I could do. I was planning to have you adopted, Nora, and then return to Ireland and marry Colm.

  ‘But when I looked into your sweet face, I knew that I could never let you go. I would stay in England, get a job and keep you by my side.’

  ‘But you didn’t?’

  ‘I went to work for a woman called Mrs Grainger, who gave me a position in her house and promised to take care of you until I got back on my feet and was able to care for you myself. I believed her, Nora, so did the nuns. I trusted her, but she tricked me and stole you away.’

  I couldn’t take in what Mammy was saying. ‘I was kidnapped?’

  ‘I thought you were lost to me for ever, I thought that I would never see you again, so I went back to Ireland and told Mammy and Colm the whole story.’

  ‘How did you get me back?’

  ‘My friend Mary was emigrating to America.’

  ‘The girl that went down with the Titanic?’

  Mammy nodded. ‘Me and Colm and Father Kelly went to Queenstown to see her off. It was there that I saw Betsy, a young girl who had worked in the house with me. She had spotted me and was waving from the deck and calling my name. I knew immediately that she was with Mrs Grainger and that they were about to sail to America.’

  ‘So you saved me?’

  ‘I would have turned the boat upside down to find you, Nora.’

  ‘What happened to the woman who tried to steal me? Did she drown like your friend Mary?’

  ‘I never knew what her fate was, Nora, and I had no mind to find out.’

  I turned to Mammy and she held me in her arms. We were both crying now.

  ‘My poor mammy,’ I said. ‘My poor, brave mammy.’

  ‘You forgive me, Nora?’

  ‘There is nothing to forgive. You kept me and you saved me and I love you for it.’

  Mammy smiled her sweet smile and wiped away her tears. ‘I thought you would be asha
med of me.’

  ‘I’d never be ashamed of you, Mammy; you were brave and strong and you found me and you brought me home.’

  We sat side by side looking up at the convent where I had been born. My mammy must have been so scared and so lonely when she had left her home and everyone she loved. She had been just a young girl, who had no idea what lay ahead of her. I’d heard of places in Ireland where the girls were treated badly and made to feel ashamed of what they had done. I could see that this place was full of love and that made me so happy.

  ‘There is one more thing that you need to know, Nora,’ she said.

  ‘Is it about my real father?’ I said, softly.

  Mammy nodded. ‘His name is Peter Bretton.’

  Now I knew why Mammy never wanted me to go anywhere near Bretton Hall.

  ‘Does he know about me?’

  ‘That is something I have never been sure of. I married the boy I loved; I had my family. I was happy, living in Paradise Alley, I had everything I wanted and thought could never be mine. Whether Peter knew about you or not didn’t seem so important.’

  I started to cry, great heaving sobs, my whole body shuddering.

  ‘Talk to me, Nora,’ Mammy said, gently.

  ‘Eddie is my brother?’ I said, when I was able to speak.

  ‘Edward Bretton is your half-brother. That is why I had to tell you the truth, Nora. That is why I had to bring you here, because of your friendship with him.’

  ‘I want to be alone for a while, Mammy, do you mind?’

  ‘Of course I don’t mind.’

  I walked away from her. I had so much to think about. I had always been confused about my feelings for Eddie and now it all made sense. He was my brother, just like Stevie and Malachi. I smiled to myself; I had three brothers now and I loved them all.

  I remembered how I’d felt the first time I’d laid eyes on Bretton Hall. It was the day that Kitty and I had squeezed through the broken fence and into the grounds and there at the top of the sweeping lawn sat the house, bathed in sunshine, as if the bricks were made of pure gold. I remember that it felt strangely familiar, as if I knew the place, as if I’d walked through those rooms; I remember wanting to be alone.

  I had my story now, and it was more dramatic than Stevie’s and Malachi’s had ever been. I didn’t just have one hero, I had a convent full of them. And I had my family.

  Twenty-Four

  We had stayed in England for a week and now, as the boat sailed slowly into Cork harbour, I scanned the crowds waiting on the quayside, searching for his face. And then I saw him – he was smiling and waving. I thought we would never get off the boat, I felt like jumping over the side and swimming to him, but I joined the queue of people dragging their cases and edging their way down the gangplank. And then I was in his arms and we were both laughing and crying. He took my face in his hands and looked into my eyes, searching for the words that he had been waiting for.

  ‘I love you, Daddy,’ I said. ‘I love you.’

  There on the quayside, surrounded by people, I let him know that he was still my daddy and the only daddy that I would ever need.

  ‘Let’s go home, Nora,’ he said. ‘Let’s go home.’

  The three of us held hands and walked towards Father Kelly’s car, that would take us back to Ballybun and the Grey House.

  As the car turned into Paradise Alley, my heart was full of joy. This is where I belonged; this is where I would always belong. I might have Bretton blood in me but I was the girl from Paradise Alley and I always would be.

  They were all there waiting for us. Granny and Grandad Collins and Stevie and Malachi. Buddy-two was barking and jumping up at us as if we’d been gone a year. I looked around for my Grandad Doyle but he wasn’t in the room. Why wasn’t he here to welcome me home? Hadn’t he missed me? And then he came in from the kitchen, carrying a cake with candles on it, put it down on the table and walked towards me. He held me in his arms and I breathed in the smell of him. He smelled of pipe smoke and hay. He smelled of my beloved grandad.

  ‘Happy birthday, Nora,’ he said, smiling.

  ‘But it isn’t my birthday, Grandad,’ I said.

  ‘And what do we care about that? I don’t think we’ll be hung for it.’

  I put my arms around him. ‘I’ve missed you, Grandad,’ I said.

  ‘And I’ve missed you too, my little Nora.’

  Stevie was sitting by the fire and I walked across to him.

  ‘I missed you,’ he said.

  ‘And I missed you too, Stevie, but I’m home now.’

  ‘What was England like, Nora?’

  ‘It was full of people and cars and carts and noise, and there was a grand big river called the Thames. When you looked along the length of it, there were lots of bridges and boats and tall cranes that reached up to the sky.’

  ‘That must have been a fierce sight, Nora.’

  ‘It was, but I had no mind to stay there, I was desperate to come home and anyway, the river looked dirty and grey, not like our own Blackwater.’

  ‘You’ll never guess what I did while you were gone,’ said Stevie.

  ‘And what was that, love?’

  ‘I walked around the yard with Buddy-two,’ he said. ‘And I did it on my own.’

  I looked over at Daddy. ‘He did, you know,’ said Daddy. ‘He walked all on his own.’

  Mammy knelt down beside me and put her arms around Stevie. ‘My brave, clever boy.’

  ‘I told you I’d do it,’ he said, grinning. ‘And I did.’

  ‘Yes, you did,’ said Mammy, laughing.

  We ate the cake and we laughed, and we talked and I felt blessed to have my family around me.

  I was determined to go back to the garden and not give a care who saw me. Eddie had as much right to know the truth as I did. Miss Caroline had said if she saw me there again, she would have me up in front of the judge for trespass, but I didn’t care. I was going to see Eddie, with or without her approval.

  * * *

  The next morning, I called for Kitty. We walked down to the quayside and sat on the wall and I told her my story.

  ‘Jesus, Kitty,’ she said. ‘I can’t believe it, you’re really an Honourable?’

  ‘I’m half an Honourable,’ I said.

  ‘And Master Edward is your brother?’

  ‘My half-brother.’

  ‘Never mind that, girl, you’re an Honourable alright. Maybe I should be bobbing to you.’

  I grinned. ‘Try that and I’ll push you off the wall.’

  ‘How does it make you feel?’

  ‘How does what make me feel?’

  ‘Being an Honourable?’

  ‘I don’t feel any different, Kitty. Mammy says it takes more than blood to make a family.’

  ‘I’d say she’s right about that, but it doesn’t change the fact that their blood runs through yours.’

  ‘I’m trying not to think about it, for it doesn’t change who I am.’

  ‘Does Eddie know?’

  ‘I don’t think he does and that makes me kind of sad.’

  We sat on the wall and watched the fishing boats coming in and out and the fishermen emptying their catch onto the stones and the seagulls circling overhead and I thought again how happy I was to be back in Ballybun.

  ‘Do you think Master Peter knows that he is your father?’

  ‘I think he does, Kitty, for I believe it was him that came into the café and left me the money. But I have a daddy who I love and I don’t need another one.’

  ‘I’d be up there hammering on the door and demanding a share of what was rightfully mine.’

  ‘No, you wouldn’t,’ I said, grinning.

  ‘Do you realise that you are now in a different class to the rest of us?’

  ‘Half a class,’ I said, smiling.

  ‘What are you going to do about Eddie?’

  ‘I’m going to go to the garden and hope to God that he’s there.’

  ‘When do you intend going?’
<
br />   I hadn’t really thought about it, but suddenly I knew. ‘Now,’ I said. ‘This very minute.’

  ‘I’ll bring a grand sandwich to the jail, so that you won’t go hungry.’

  ‘I have a feeling that even if Miss Caroline does find out that I’ve been there, she won’t do a thing about it.’

  ‘What makes you so sure?’

  ‘Because she won’t want the town to know that she is related to a girl from Paradise Alley.’

  ‘I think you’re right, for she’s a terrible snob. My mammy says she’s a baggage and she doesn’t think that her bodily functions smell like those of the rest of us.’

  ‘Your mammy cracks me up.’

  ‘She cracks me up as well, Nora.’

  We said goodbye and I walked out towards the Strand and turned down the lane that ran alongside the Hall. The closer I got, the more nervous I became, but I held my head high and kept walking. As I turned the corner, I stopped. At first, I couldn’t make out what I was seeing. I rubbed my eyes and looked again: the fence had gone and in its place was a high wall.

  Twenty-Five

  Father Kelly came to see me every day. He sat by my bed and read out joyful passages from the Bible.

  ‘This is a favourite of mine, Nora,’ he said. ‘May the God of hope fill you with joy and peace, as you trust in Him. So that you will overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.’

  I closed my eyes and I let his words wash over me. I felt nothing; not joy or hope, not even sadness. I felt nothing and there was a strange kind of peace in that. I was a child again; I was being taken care of like a child. I didn’t have to worry about anything, I just had to be.

  Grandad Doyle read to me every evening. He had chosen to read Anne of Green Gables, which was perfect. I loved the feisty little orphan, who was always getting into trouble without meaning to. Her friendship with the sweet Diana Barry, who she called her bosom friend and kindred spirit, made me think of Kitty.

  I overheard Dr Kennedy telling Mammy that I was suffering from exhaustion of the mind.

  ‘I shouldn’t have taken her to England,’ said Mammy. ‘It was too much for her, I brought this on.’