Joe flushed with embarrassment. He brushed the dust off his trousers and, forcing the lid of his suitcase shut, his belongings still spilling out of the sides, he held out his hand to Teresa. ‘I do apologise. Joe Malone at your service, ma’am.’
He wondered why it was he was apologising and why, under her unflinching gaze, he felt as if he’d just done something very wrong indeed. It was like he was back in the classroom.
Teresa belted along the lanes in Father Jerry’s car, all the while extracting as much information as she could from the young man sitting next to her. That didn’t stop her from waving at other car drivers and bicycle riders as they passed. Her right hand was off the wheel more than it was on it. When she raised her hand in greeting yet again, this time to an elderly gentleman on a bike, Joe couldn’t resist making a comment.
‘Gosh, do you know every person in all of Ireland?’ he asked.
Teresa stuck her hand out to signal as she turned onto the road to Mayo. ‘Of course not,’ she said. ‘Only those worth knowing.’
‘Oh, right.’ Joe pushed his hair back off his face. ‘I hope you don’t mind me saying, it’s just that you’ve waved to every single person we’ve passed so far.’
Teresa shot him a sharp sideways look. ‘Sure, why would I not. They are only being polite, saying hello. Do you not do that in America?’
Joe shook his head, knowing how the answer would make America look.
‘Where would you be staying?’ she asked. ‘I take it that’s where you will want to be dropped off?’
Joe smiled. ‘Oh, it’s all the way to Tarabeg for me. I was told the place isn’t exactly busy and that I’d be able to find a room in the village.’
Teresa laughed. ‘Well, you might have, if the salmon weren’t in and the village wasn’t full of fishermen. You won’t be finding anything in Tarabeg. There’s no hotel as such.’
He looked crestfallen.
‘I’m afraid Galway will be the best bet.’
‘No.’ His voice was firm. He turned to face her, his jaw jutting out, his eyes steely with resolve. He wore no hat, which surprised her. ‘Miss Gallagher, I have come all this way to see Tarabeg and to carry out my daddy’s dying wishes. He never planned to see Galway. He only spoke of the place his daddy had told him he must return to one day, but he died before he ever got the chance. I don’t care if I have to sleep on the street, I am going to Tarabeg, for my pa.’
For a reason he couldn’t explain, a lump came to his throat. He turned back to look at the road and a group of passing schoolchildren waved to him.
Teresa had heard the break in his voice and instantly felt sorry for him. She couldn’t imagine not being able to watch the sun rise over the Taramore River and across the Nephin Beg when she woke up of a morning. She was ashamed of herself for having tried to trick someone out of visiting the one village on earth that was closest to heaven itself. ‘Why would I want a holiday,’ she asked her sister every time she tried to persuade her to visit her nieces and nephews in America, ‘when I live in the best place on earth? Wouldn’t it just be a waste of my time and money? Sure, I’d only be disappointed, and who wants to pay for that?’
Joe coughed, and, removing his handkerchief from his pocket, blew his nose. The metal corner of his leather suitcase dug into his knee and he pulled it upright and rested his chin on the top as he waved back to the schoolchildren.
Teresa was swamped with guilt. The matron who had never married and had never mourned the lack of a husband but had always wondered what it would mean to have a son felt a tug on her heartstrings for the tired and lost young man sitting next to her.
Annie’s warnings or not, decoy plans, blockading whin and fierce-looking bull notwithstanding, Teresa Gallagher was taking this young man to see Daedio. But she needed to talk to Daedio and the others first. ‘The teacher, Declan Feenan, is away on his holidays,’ she said. ‘I have the keys to his house – he won’t mind one bit if you stay there. You can eat with us at the presbytery tonight and then I’ll drop you off. And tomorrow I will take you to see the people I think are your family. How does that sound?’
He grinned. ‘Are you sure Mr Feenan won’t mind?’
Teresa was surprised. ‘Why would he mind? He’s not sleeping in the bed himself – of course he won’t.’
She crunched the gears as she turned a corner and hit a rock beside the verge, sending the car into a swerve right across the road. Joe grabbed the top of the door.
As she straightened and regained control, she shouted, ‘You, young man, are the living image of your relatives and you have every right to know who they are. They will have a bed for you too, once they’ve met you and I’ve explained everything to them. I could tell who you were the minute I saw you standing outside the airport. Daedio Malone is your great-great-uncle. He lives on Tarabeg Farm and that’s where I’ll be taking you.’
*
Keeva crept across the room, unable to remove her hand from her face in case she made a noise that would alert Nell downstairs.
Captain Bob was tied to a chair next to the window. The smell in the room was almost overpowering. ‘Keeva,’ his voice croaked in a coarse whisper. ‘Thank God you’ve come. Is Bee with you?’
‘Did Nell do this?’ whispered Keeva, horrified, her eyes roaming over the chair.
Captain Bob could move his legs, and there was enough rope to allow him to half stand, but he couldn’t go far because both arms were firmly tied down.
‘Untie me,’ he croaked. ‘She did it while I was asleep, the night after the funeral. I told her I was leaving the following morning and that I’d be coming back for her, but she didn’t believe me. She trusts no one and she’s terrified of being left on her own here, in case the priest comes with the guard to take her away. Is Bee with you?’
Keeva’s eyes locked onto his as she shook her head. His beard was as long and unkempt as his hair. His clothes were dirty and food-stained and he wore no socks or shoes.
‘For the love of God,’ she whispered, her eyes filling with tears. Wasting no time, she bent over him and with shaking hands, trying to make as little noise as possible, she began to pull at the ropes that bound him.
Downstairs, Rosie continued to jump from topic to topic, talking fast, trying to hold Nell’s attention.
‘Is there anything at all I can be doing to help you?’ she said. ‘Do you have a message from Captain Bob for me to send? Maybe if you tell him I’m here, he might want to say a few words.’ She hoped her voice still sounded natural and not abnormally loud.
Nell shot Rosie a suspicious look. ‘You don’t have to be telling anyone I can’t manage. I do. I don’t want anyone calling here to the house.’
Rosie knew that Nell was tolerating her presence because, like all women in Ireland, she was afraid of authority and wanted to make sure that Rosie, as a headmistress, would see her on her best behaviour. She needed Rosie to believe she could cope. The Church and the schools, the priests and the teachers, operated in concert with each other, using fear to control and dominate the lives of everyone in rural Ireland, especially women. A woman had no status and could be disappeared overnight. A letter from the priest could mean a packed suitcase and fifty years of hard labour in a laundry for a woman deemed to have transgressed in some obscure or even unexplained way.
‘I’m needing nothing,’ said Nell. ‘Daddy is staying now – you can tell your husband that. My job now Mammy has gone is to look after this house and Daddy.’ A startled look suddenly crossed her face. ‘The lady… the other lady, where is she?’ She looked to the front door and began to rise from her chair.
‘Oh, she went outside to find the midden,’ said Rosie, her eyes darting to the door that led to the staircase.
Suddenly they were both alerted to the sound of clattering feet on the stairs. With a roar, Captain Bob almost fell through the door. He was finding it difficult to walk, having not moved his legs for days. ‘Where’s Bee?’ he asked as he staggered towards Rosie and grabbed ont
o her arms.
‘She didn’t know where you were – she thought you’d left her.’
Sobs filled the air and they all turned towards the chair, where Nell was rocking and crying.
Rosie put her hand on Captain Bob’s arm. ‘She’s scared,’ she said. ‘Don’t shout at her. She’s scared of being left on her own. Let me talk to her. Bee wouldn’t want to see her like this. She is your responsibility now that her mammy has died, but we can sort that out. We’re going to have to come back for her. She can live in Angela’s cottage – it’s still empty. I know Bee would agree, and besides, she would have more company in Tarabeg.’
Keeva chimed in. ‘She can’t have much company here or someone would have noticed you being tied up like that.’
‘No one comes here,’ said Captain Bob. ‘Her mammy drove everyone away, using nothing more than the lash of her tongue.’
Rosie knelt down by the side of Nell’s chair and laid both of her hands on top of Nell’s. ‘Nell…’ she whispered. ‘Nell, stop crying now. I have news for you. You are coming to Tarabeg with us. We will come back for you in the next few days. Your daddy has to come with us, but don’t be afraid, we’ll be back. In the car next time, and you will come too.’
It took over an hour before Nell was properly calm and reassured of their intentions.
‘I’m sorry, Daddy,’ she said to Captain Bob. ‘I was scared to be on my own and without any money. I was scared the priest would come and send me away.’
Captain Bob hugged his daughter. ‘I don’t blame you. You didn’t understand,’ he said. ‘But for feck’s sake, Nell, why did you tie my arms when I was sleeping? Where in the name of God did you learn to do that?’
‘Mammy,’ she replied. ‘Mammy did it to me when you left, to stop me coming after you.’
The room fell quiet as Captain Bob stood and embraced his daughter once again. ‘Nell, oh, Nell,’ he said, ‘you were always the best.’
‘We will be calling into the priest to tell him we’re coming back for you,’ said Rosie, ‘so don’t you be worrying about him.’ And although she was concerned for Nell, her heart sang at the prospect of reuniting Captain Bob and Bee.
Keeva found a bicycle in the filleting shed, dusted it down and made her way back into Ballycroy to see was there a taxi to take them home, but there was none to be had. Despite being a larger village than Tarabeg, booking a taxi was still a major event that required much discussion and preparation, via the postmistress, who was as interested in the affairs of others as Mrs Doyle.
‘The bus it is then,’ said Rosie, exhausted and disappointed. She had spent the time clearing the scullery and preparing a meal from what there was in the press, while Captain Bob dug up some of the potatoes, cabbages and carrots his wife had planted.
Keeva leant the bike against the wall and lifted a brown-paper packet out of the basket.
‘What’s that?’ asked Rosie.
‘I called into the butcher’s and picked up a packet of rashers, a couple of trotters and half a chicken for Nell, in case there was nothing in, and the last loaf of boxty bread in the shop.’
‘God love you. I can put the chicken in the stew pot I’ve just made up for her, the trotters will keep on the cold shelf in the press until tomorrow and I can cook the rashers now for her with some fried potatoes.’
‘You’re making my mouth water,’ said Captain Bob. ‘With so little food in, I was half thinking of staying and sending you on with a message for Bee. But Nell is well provisioned now.’
Nell had been unresponsive at first, but she’d warmed to Rosie’s encouragement and had helped her with the cleaning. All the time, Rosie spoke to her of Tarabeg and Angela’s cottage, praying in her quiet moments that they could make it work.
They left behind a calmer, smiling Nell, a cottage filled with the smell of chicken roasting and a promise that they would be back for her before the week was out.
25
Mary Kate opened her eyes with a start and instantly remembered that something was very wrong. The sash window was pushed up as far as it would reach, and above the deafening dawn chorus of the birds in the garden outside she could hear the squeal of brakes from the bus at the end of the road, the rattle of bottles in the milk cart and the clip-clopping of its horse’s hooves as it moved along Duke’s Avenue. A feeling of foreboding washed over her. The world in which all was well and perfectly normal suddenly slipped away as the events of the previous evening pierced her consciousness. She gasped with the force of it. ‘Oh God in heaven, no.’ She closed her eyes and pulled the covers over her head.
Deidra’s room was above hers and Mary Kate heard the thud of her feet landing on her bedside rug, then the padding along as she crossed the room and headed for the bathroom. Deidra never missed the 6 a.m. Mass, even when she’d been to a dance the evening before. It was the one promise to her mammy she’d kept since she left home. She was back in the house for ten past seven to prepare breakfast and start the day.
Deidra had shown both surprise and concern for Mary Kate’s soul when Mary Kate had refused to join her. ‘You can’t be missing Mass,’ she’d said. ‘What would yer mammy say if she knew? Oh, Mary Kate, just because you’ve left Ireland doesn’t mean you’ve left your soul behind, you know.’
A weight settled on Mary Kate’s heart. She swung her legs out of bed and decided that everything that was happening must be because she hadn’t been to Mass since she left home. Tossing back the bedcovers, she dressed hurriedly and intercepted Deidra at the bottom of the stairs.
‘I’m coming with you,’ she said.
‘Oh, well now, isn’t that nice. And no wonder, I would be saying, after what I saw last night.’ Deidra sniffed and moved on ahead of Mary Kate and down the stairs.
As they rounded the street corner, Deidra pulled on her white cotton summer gloves and the girls fell into step, walking quickly, almost marching, their shoes tapping briskly on the pavement.
‘Well, are you going to be telling me what happened last night then? Because you sure as hell weren’t waiting for me at the bus stop when I got back, and what I saw was a right commotion going on in the Marcuses’ driveway. Mrs O’Keefe was making herself cocoa in the back kitchen and she was very surprised indeed that you weren’t with me and wanted me to be going back out to look for you.’
Their feet pounded harder as the church bells rang out and tugged them along. Mary Kate’s hand flew to her mouth. ‘Oh no,’ she wailed, not breaking her step.
Deidra shot her a sideways glance and leant over. Although there was no one near them, she hissed her next words, in the belief that if sinful words were whispered, God might not hear them. ‘I saw it all as I walked back from the bus stop, and you right in the middle of it all. What the feck was going on?’
Mary Kate stammered. ‘Well—’
‘Well what? I saw Mrs Marcus giving out in the middle of the driveway and I could hardly believe my eyes. She’s a different sort from most of the women around Fullmore Park – she really is a one. Always out in the taxis and the cars. Him, the poor man, looked lost, he did. And then I saw you. Did they send for you or what?’
Mary Kate took a deep breath. So Deidra hadn’t seen her and Dr Marcus, a married man, kissing in the bright moonlight. She was almost faint with relief. ‘No, I was walking past, to come and meet you, and they called me over. They, er, lost the dog. He got out and the boys were upset and I helped them to look for him and then Mrs Marcus blamed Dr Marcus and they had one almighty row.’
Mary Kate didn’t know where the words had come from, and without Deidra noticing, she blessed herself. They turned sharply between the tall red sandstone pillars and up the steps to the church doors. Mary Kate wondered if they would crash shut behind her as she stepped over the threshold of God’s holy house.
‘Well, what a state of affairs, and fancy them involving you like that. I swear to God, the people back home have better manners, so they do.’ Deidra didn’t like to be late and hurried towards her usu
al seat without turning around. She dipped her knee to the cross, slipped into the pew and knelt down.
Mary Kate was pale with shock. Her eyes stung and filled with tears and she wondered if that was because she’d become unaccustomed to the holy smoke. She entwined her fingers in her lap, as much to stop them from shaking as anything else. ‘Oh Lord, what have I done?’ were the only prayers she managed to say, followed by, ‘Please forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.’ As she sat on the carved wooden pew and looked up to the statue of Our Lady, the words of the sermon floated over her head. A terrible truth pounded to the beat of her pulse. She had wanted him to kiss her. She had enjoyed him kissing her. She had kissed him back, and in those few seconds she’d felt as though she might die from happiness.
Her head was spinning, consumed with thoughts of Dr Marcus and his words to his wife. As the priest spoke, she drifted back to the previous evening. The solid, peaceful silence in the church gave her the space and time. Even though she was surrounded by people, their shuffle of prayer cushions, their sniffles and coughs, and the chanting from the altar, she was entirely alone because God was not speaking to Mary Kate.
‘You have no idea about right and wrong, Lavinia,’ Dr Marcus had snapped at his wife, ‘so I don’t think you’re one to make any judgements here.’
Lavinia Marcus had folded her arms, placed one foot in front of the other and rocked her hips as she sneered at Mary Kate. ‘Oh I am, Nicholas. I am. And I know this, that if you wanted to deceive your wife, you could have chosen someone with a bit of class and not a cheap girl from the bogs.’
Lavinia Marcus’s words had stung so hard, Mary Kate had felt as though she’d been slapped across the face. She took a sharp intake of breath.
‘How dare you.’ Dr Marcus’s arms were ramrod straight, down by his sides, and his fists were clenched. His words sounded controlled, but his voice shook with anger. ‘Do not dare to stand there and judge this kind-hearted girl as though you are some form of angel. You are so lacking in morality, you’re not fit to polish her shoes. You, Lavinia, belong in the gutter. You disgust me.’
Mary Kate Page 28
