by Anna Jacobs
When they heard a horse clop to a halt outside, Mr Grady, who was keeping watch from the front room, called, ‘They’re here. They came in a cab.’
Fergus went to the door and waited, surprised at how much Mr Kieran had changed. He’d been a carefree young man, but now, in his early middle years, there was an air of command to him, not a bullying look, but a confidence in how he faced the world.
The woman getting out of the cab must be his wife. She had a lovely smile, which reminded Fergus suddenly of Cara’s. It said a person had a kind, loving nature, that sort of smile did.
Mr Kieran raised a hand in greeting, then turned to help his wife negotiate the step down from the cab. After that he paid the driver, holding out a second coin and asking him to wait for them.
When he came to the front door, he held out his hand to Fergus, shaking hands as if greeting an equal.
‘This is my wife, who prefers to be called Mrs Julia, rather than Mrs Largan. We don’t wish to sound like my father and mother, for obvious reasons.’
Fergus could understand that. Old Mr Largan had been a nasty brute, who had laid false evidence against his son which had got poor Conn transported to Australia on political grounds.
Old Mrs Largan had been a doormat of a woman, a pale shadow beside her brutal husband.
‘I’d recognise a Deagan anywhere,’ Mr Kieran went on cheerfully. ‘You all have the same look.’
Fergus looked at him in surprise. ‘Do we?’
‘Oh, yes. Even young Ryan. Dark haired, thin-faced and alert. Ryan and Noreen are living in Australia now with your Aunt Maura and Bram writes that your little brother is not so little any more. Ryan’s growing fast, never stops eating.’
‘I haven’t seen Ryan for a good few years. He was a small child when I left.’
‘He’s almost a young man now, and very protective of his sister Noreen, Bram says. Tragedy makes you grow up quickly, I find, and so many of your family died in the typhus epidemic.’
‘There have been some bad times in Ireland,’ Fergus acknowledged.
‘And you’ve had your own difficulties here, as well. I’m sorry about your loss.’
Fergus nodded.
‘Thank heavens those of your family who survived our epidemic had Bram to go to. I had so many others who needed help afterwards, I was struggling to look after them all for a while.’ Mr Kieran shook his head as if to cast off bad memories and clapped Fergus on the back. ‘Well, are you going to keep us waiting out here?’
Fergus felt ashamed of his manners. ‘Sorry. Seeing you brought back memories of Shilmara, Mr Kieran. Not all of them good. Won’t you come inside?’
The two men stood back to let Mrs Julia enter first.
‘It’s straight through to the kitchen,’ Fergus told her. ‘I’m afraid my parents-in-law are sleeping in the front room at the moment, so we can’t entertain you in there.’
‘I’m sorry you’ve had such hard times and I’m quite happy to sit in the kitchen.’ Her voice was gentle and musical, and the way she looked at him was direct and friendly.
Fergus followed her down the hall and introduced the visitors to his parents-in-law, then to Cara.
Mrs Julia went straight across to the baby. ‘Isn’t she a darling? Look how dark that hair is. Another Deagan in the making. She’s very tiny, though. Is she eating well?’
‘She’s grown a lot since she was born,’ Cara said. ‘And her appetite is improving by the day.’
Mrs Julia gave her a quick, surprised glance. Fergus guessed it was because of the ladylike way Cara spoke.
Ma moved forward. ‘Would you like to sit down, Mrs Julia?’
‘Thank you, Mrs Grady. I’m very sorry for your loss.’
Ma nodded and sat down at the end of the table, leaving Fergus to sit beside her. Pa went to stand beside Cara and the baby, as he often did.
‘Would you like a cup of tea?’ Ma asked.
Mr Kieran took charge in a way that was almost visible. ‘Thank you, maybe later. First I think we should sort out the practicalities of your situation. Fergus, you wish to join Bram in Australia and I promise you he’ll be delighted about that. He writes that he’s given up hope of finding his other brothers.’
‘He writes to you?’ Fergus was surprised.
‘Regularly. Or if he doesn’t, my brother Conn does. He’s a sort of partner of Bram’s in the Bazaar where Bram sells the goods he imports.’ He looked at Fergus. ‘Sorry. I keep forgetting that you don’t know much about the set-up in Australia.’
‘No. I didn’t keep in touch with my family for a few years. If I’d known my father was dead, I’d have written sooner, though.’
‘We were neither of us blessed with our fathers, were we?’ Mr Kieran sat frowning for a minute, then shook off his own bad memories and went on. ‘Let me give you a quick summary. Bram travelled to Australia with my neighbour Ronan Maguire, acting as a kind of manservant. During the voyage he got talking to people and decided that he wanted to better himself. He already had some trading goods, and decided to set up as a trader, so when Ronan came back to Ireland, Bram stayed behind and settled in Western Australia.’
Fergus nodded, listening intently.
‘Bram was quite adventurous. He went to Singapore to look at what goods were available and to find someone to deal with there.’
Kieran paused again to smile at his wife. ‘While there, your brother met Isabella, fell in love with her and married her almost immediately. She was a lady born and bred, but penniless and alone in the world. She’d been living with a Chinese family, employed to teach them English. She grew very fond of them, particularly the daughter, who is now her partner in selling silks to the ladies of Western Australia. Am I going too fast for you? Telling you too many details?’
‘No. I like to understand how it happened. But you’re surprising me. I didn’t know Bram had such … big ideas.’
‘I think he surprised himself. It was meeting so many different people on the voyage, I expect. He’s lucky in his wife. Isabella has a fine business head on her, so they make excellent partners. Bram has done well enough to buy himself a house in Fremantle, which is the port for Perth, the capital city of the colony.’
‘I’ve looked the colony up in an atlas at the library,’ Fergus admitted, trying to hide his surprise. Bram had bought a house! Only rich people did that, in Fergus’s experience. Everyone he knew rented their houses. A surge of pure jealousy speared through him, he couldn’t help it.
‘Also living in Fremantle are your sister Ismay and her husband, who is a ship’s captain, and your aunt Maura and her husband, who is a gentleman dabbling in various business ventures. Your brother Ryan, your sister Noreen and your uncle Eamon’s daughter Brenna all live with Maura.’
‘I hadn’t realised exactly who from the family had moved out there. What about the others?’
‘Ah. Well. I’m afraid a lot of people from the village died in the typhus epidemic. Your immediate family did better than your cousins, though poor Padraig died.’
Fergus had to swallow hard, remembering his lively little brother Padraig.
‘We think your other brothers who left Ireland may still be alive, but they went to Canada, didn’t they? Or was it America? We have no way of finding them, sadly. Well, we didn’t even know where you were until you wrote to Bram.’ He paused again.
‘Go on.’
‘It just seemed to happen that one after another, your family joined Bram, to his great delight.’ Mr Kieran’s smile broadened. ‘I believe your brother Ryan’s ambition is now to become a trader too, but Bram is insisting the lad gets some education first.’
He studied Fergus and added gently, ‘You’ve no need to worry about the fares. Bram can well afford to pay for your passages. He’ll want to.’
‘I see.’
Mrs Julia interrupted. ‘I think we could all enjoy that cup of tea now, Mrs Grady. Your son-in-law has a lot to take in.’
Fergus sat with his thoughts in a whirl,
glad when no one tried to make him talk. He looked across at Cara and saw her brush away a tear. She looked desperately unhappy, and was hugging the baby close. He saw her press a quick kiss on Niamh’s cheek. Patrick was right. She did love that baby.
When they’d all had tea and a piece of a fruitcake Alana had bought from the fancy cake shop in town, Mr Kieran took over again.
‘There’s a ship leaving for the Orient in three weeks. Why don’t we book passages on it for you all?’
He looked at Mrs Grady and said, ‘I’m including you and your husband in this. Bram will welcome you as well, I know he will.’
When she heard these plans, Cara clapped one hand to her mouth to stop herself from crying out. She wanted to tell them not to leave yet. It was too soon for the baby and too soon for her as well. But she had no right to do that. She was only the wet nurse.
At first, Mrs Grady looked shocked rigid, then she began to frown. ‘We can’t go yet, Mr Largan. The baby won’t be weaned by then, and how will we feed her on a ship? With one so tiny you have to be careful. We don’t want to risk that precious little girl’s life.’
Everyone turned to look at the child, and Cara could see by Mrs Julia’s expression that she was assessing the situation … and her.
‘What will you do after you’ve finished looking after Niamh, Mrs Payton?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘She doesn’t have any family or much money, either, now her husband’s dead,’ Ma said quickly, before Cara could tell the brutal truth.
Silence, then Mrs Julia said slowly, as if thinking aloud, ‘If you’re not attached to anyone here, why don’t you go with the family to Western Australia, Mrs Payton? There are plenty of jobs there for maids, Bram says, though I gather most young women soon marry, because there are far more men than women in the colony. This makes for a constant servant crisis for the wealthier women, I’ve heard.’
Cara stared at her in amazement. This was the last thing she’d expected anyone to say.
Mrs Grady beamed at their visitor. ‘That’s a wonderful idea, Mrs Julia, wonderful. I’ve grown very fond of Cara while she’s been with us, and Niamh does still need her.’
But Mr Kieran was frowning. ‘While it’s a good idea, the problem is, there won’t be any provision made for Mrs Payton to go and live in the colony,’ he said. ‘I gather the Governor keeps a careful eye on who is allowed to settle there. Bram’s family coming out to him is one thing, but he won’t have spoken for you, Mrs Payton, so there may be difficulties in getting permission for you to stay there.’
‘Oh.’ Cara felt hope die and the icy chill of fear creep in again.
‘Perhaps we can all go on a later boat to give Bram a chance to speak out for Cara?’ Mrs Grady suggested. ‘It’ll be safer for the child, anyway, give her a chance of growing bigger before we set off.’
Mrs Julia shook her head. ‘It’d be better to make arrangements to go now. And things aren’t as primitive on modern steamships as you might think, so Niamh should be all right.’
When no one spoke, she added persuasively, ‘The thing is, Kieran and I will still be in England when this ship leaves, because we’re on a long visit to various members of my family. We’d be able to help you get ready for the journey. We’ve done it for others and we know exactly what’s needed, which is a lot more complicated than you may realise. You’ll need suitable clothes for a two-month journey, for one thing.’
Ma sighed. ‘I still think—’
Fergus spoke then, his voice harsh. ‘I think I have a solution to Cara’s problem, one Pa suggested, but I need to speak to her about it first.’ He moved across to her. ‘Could you leave Niamh with Ma for a few minutes? It’ll be better if I discuss my idea with you privately.’
Cara stood up, wondering what Fergus was going to suggest.
‘All right if we go into your room, Ma?’ he asked
‘Of course.’ She nodded, as if she understood what he was thinking and was encouraging him to do it.
Pa was also looking across at him hopefully, but Fergus wasn’t going to say anything to them, let alone to Mr Kieran and his wife, till after he’d spoken to Cara. He owed her that.
After all, she might not agree to his father-in-law’s suggestion.
Was he doing the right thing? Fergus wondered. How could you ever know for certain? You just had to do your best as you went along.
Cara followed Fergus into the front room. When he gestured to her to sit down, she did so, wondering what he wanted.
‘I’ve been worrying about the problem of raising Niamh on my own.’
That was a strange way to start a conversation, she thought. ‘You have Mrs Grady and you’ll no doubt remarry one day.’
‘Yes. Most people do remarry, out of sheer necessity. And that’s why I’m talking to you. Look, you’ve probably heard that I promised Eileen on her deathbed that I’d marry again and she insisted that it must be within the year.’
‘Yes. It was a strange thing for her to ask of you.’ And brave.
‘I thought it strange, too. But I realised afterwards that she was thinking of our sons and the new baby more than me. She had been so desperate for a daughter. It was sad that she lost her life producing one at last.’
‘Very sad.’
He fell silent, looking as if he’d have preferred to pace up and down, only the room was so crowded with furniture, there was hardly space to edge your way across it.
Cara waited, still so upset at the thought of losing Niamh that she missed what he said next.
‘Cara? Were you listening? I asked you a question.’
She looked up. ‘Oh, I’m sorry. My attention must have wandered.’ The words were out before she could stop them. ‘I’m dreading losing Niamh, you see, and terrified of being on my own again. I can’t seem to think beyond that.’
‘Yes. Pa and Ma have both told me. It makes what I suggested all the more sensible.’ He paused and took a deep breath. ‘What I said was: I think you and I should marry. It’ll solve both our problems.’
She knew she hadn’t misunderstood him, but what he’d said was such a shock that she couldn’t think how to answer him.
‘Well?’ he asked impatiently.
‘I … don’t know what to say.’
‘You can tell me if the idea disgusts you and if so, I’ll not mention it again.’
She stared down at her clasped hands. ‘It … doesn’t disgust me, but it does surprise me. I don’t know why you’d go to such lengths.’
‘I told you: out of necessity. I need a mother for my children, especially the baby, and I need a wife to look after my home once we get to Australia. You need a home and you love Niamh already. I’ll be frank with you. I don’t … feel as much for the child as I maybe should.’
‘How can you not? She’s a darling.’
He shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I just … can’t seem to care about her as I do about the boys. But I intend to see that she’s taken care of properly. She is my responsibility, after all. If you don’t accept my proposal, then I’ll have to find some other woman to marry.’
That annoyed her. ‘You don’t sound as if you have much respect for me or for other women, either.’
It was his turn to look surprised. ‘Of course I respect you. Why do you say that?’
‘Because you talk as if wives grow on trees and you only have to pluck one down and marry her. Why did you ask me to marry you? Why not ask “some other woman” you know better?’
‘Because you love Niamh and you get on well with Ma and Pa, and even the boys are all right with you now. And … well, because you’re not a chattering magpie of a woman.’
That last reason made her wonder whether Eileen had been a chatterer? From things he’d let slip now and then, she’d wondered if his marriage had been happy. Now she was wondering if she could be happy with him. It was one thing to be afraid of making your own way in the world, another to put your whole future into the hands of a man who didn’t care one b
it about you.
‘It makes sense for both of us,’ he urged. ‘If you must know, I also value the fact that you’re an educated woman. I want to do better for my family than I have so far. If my brother Bram can get on in the world, then so can I. A wife like you will be able to help us all. For one thing, you’ll know how to behave with people of a better class. For another, you’ll be able to help the children learn so many things.’
After a pause, he added, ‘You’ll be able to help me, too.’
She looked across at him and asked something that was very important to her. ‘Do you believe me when I say that I was forced, that I didn’t go with any man willingly?’
‘Oh, yes. I always have done.’
‘Why?’
‘You’re not a liar. Your face would give you away.’
‘Yet my own father didn’t believe me, or didn’t care, could only see me as “soiled”.’ She couldn’t hold back a sob. ‘That’s what he called me, soiled. Like a piece of dirty linen.’ She pressed her hand to her mouth, trying in vain to hold in the continuing grief about this.
She heard Fergus move a step closer. When he put his arm round her shoulders and pulled her against him, she let him hold her as she wept.
But she didn’t allow herself to weep for long. After a struggle, she got control of her feelings and pulled away. Reluctantly. It had felt so good to be held, comforted. Too good.
‘Your father must be a harsh, unforgiving man,’ he murmured.
‘Yes. He’s always been … strict.’
‘And your mother?’
‘She does what he tells her. Always.’ Cara moved away from him, fumbling for a handkerchief and not finding one.
He thrust one into her hand. ‘Take mine.’
‘Thank you.’ She blew her nose, then shared another thing which was important to her. She’d had a lot of time to think while waiting for her baby to be born. ‘I’m not like my mother, though. If I marry you, I won’t obey you in everything. I must do what I think is right in this life, as well as doing what you need from a wife.’
