‘I hope a young girl such as yourself is never drawn into this nonsense now. You have kept very unsuitable company in the past.’
Mary felt her heart pounding. Despite threatening to deal with her, he had never said a word until now. Perhaps she was foolish to think Rory’s standing up to him and telling him that the Volunteers knew about his dealings with Dublin Castle had scared him off.
‘I read an article last week about how these groups, claiming to want Irish independence and all that rubbish, were targeting the young and undereducated of the city, and filling their heads with this dangerous talk. If anyone approaches you suggesting you get involved in anything like that, it is your duty to inform me. Is that clear? I’m sure any previously unsuitable people have now been eradicated from your life. It would have been prudent to do so, and you don’t strike me as stupid.’
‘Yes sir.’ Mary felt like she’d been in the room for hours. She tried to slow her pulse and to act normally. She could never tell with the master what he was really saying, but there seemed to be a subtext to everything he said. She backed away from the table. It took all her resolve not to bolt for the door.
‘Come here.’ His voice was smooth as silk.
She returned to within two feet of the table, her eyes downcast.
‘Look up, Mary, I won’t bite.’
Reluctantly she raised her head slightly.
‘I know you are not foolish enough to have anything further to do with that guttersnipe I saw you with last year, because believe me, he won’t protect you, not when you need it most,’ he purred.
‘No sir.’ She gulped silently, trying to swallow her fear.
‘Come, come now. I see the lad from the post office delivering letters downstairs after he leaves in our post. Now Mrs Kearns is hardly in receipt of love letters at her age and that clown Jimmy probably can’t even read, so who are these letters for, I wonder?’ His tone was playful, yet terrifying.
Mary thought quickly.
‘I get some letters from a nun who used to be kind to me in the convent, sir.’
‘Well, perhaps that is so, though why you should blush so deeply at the mention of letters from an old nun, I don’t know?’
He stood up from the table and moved to where she stood. Mary was sure he could hear her heart pounding. Reaching out his hand, he lifted her face by her chin and looked deeply into her eyes. Mary tried to look demure but unafraid as his eyes raked her face, searching for something. His huge moustache covered his thin lips, and as he smiled at her she noticed his little teeth, like a ferret’s. His eyebrows sprouted long greyish black hairs and almost covered his small piggy eyes. Mary thought him repulsive. He moved his face closer to hers and she could smell egg on his breath. She was rooted to the spot, terrified.
Just then there was a knock on the door and Jimmy entered without waiting to be summoned, obviously on the instruction of Mrs Kearns.
‘Sorry sir, begging yer pardon, sir, but will you be needing the carriage this morning sir?’ Jimmy blurted out, clearly only slightly less terrified of the master than of the housekeeper to say he managed to get the words out at all.
‘What on earth do you mean, bursting in here like this? Who the hell do you think you are? Of course I need the carriage. Get out you imbecile!’ The master was fuming.
Mary took her opportunity and scurried out the door behind the petrified Jimmy and dashed to the safety of the kitchen. Moments later she heard the master leave by the front door.
‘Are you alright, child?’ Mrs Kearns had dispatched Jimmy to the yard with a clip round the ear for his trouble as she saw Mary enter the kitchen. ‘You’re white as a sheet.’
Mary took a deep breath. ‘He asked me about the letters and who they were from. He sees everything Mrs Kearns! What if he knows about the jewellery, and the pictures and everything?’ Terror filled her as she whispered urgently, ‘He was going to try to kiss me. Only Jimmy came in...’
‘Calm down, child, Calm down! ’Twas only a matter of time. He’s furious about the way Rory spoke to him, and he won’t let it go. I don’t know what we’re going to do about this, but something will have to be done. He’ll try again, but if you say anything to Rory, then you could make things worse.’ Mary had never seen Mrs Kearns look so worried. ‘Here, a letter arrived while you were upstairs.’
Mary sat in the easy chair beside the fire, trying to compose herself. The letter was from Rory and it made her heart sing. The previous Sunday they’d made arrangements to meet, but he sent a boy to the house at the last minute to say he couldn’t come. She was bitterly disappointed, for she hadn’t seen him since the day in the mountains shooting, and that was with lots of people around. She felt selfish even thinking these thoughts and banished them from her mind.
Dear Mary,
How is my best girl? I’m so sorry about last Sunday. I was all set to go to meet you when I was asked to do the afternoon shift here, one of the other lads was sick. I know you understand. I’d never willingly let you down, you know that, don’t you?
I know it’s Holy Thursday but I’d love to see you today even for half an hour, do you think Mrs Kearns would let you out? I need to talk to you about something. If you can, I’ll be beside the bandstand in the park at three. I’ll wait until twenty past but then I’ll have to get back myself.
Love,
Rory
Mary reread the short note, and decided she had nothing to lose. Mrs Kearns liked Rory on the occasions she had met him and she approved of him as a beau for Mary.
‘Mrs Kearns, the note was from Rory. He wants to meet me today in the park, just for a short time. He says he needs to talk to me about something. I know I’m supposed to be here, but would it be alright if I went to meet him at three o clock, just for half an hour?’
‘Summoned by the mighty Rory O’Dwyer, are you?’ But the housekeeper was smiling. ‘Alright, never let it be said I stood in the path of true love. Mind you don’t say anything to him about his morning though, not till we’ve had time to think about it. That fella is so hot-headed he’d come charging round here and then where would we be? If the master knows anything, and we don’t know that he does, he could have us arrested, and Rory too, so we’ll have to play his game and see what happens. Rory can’t afford to get caught up in anything with him at this stage. He’ll be needed when the time comes, and him locked up would be no good to anyone at all. ‘Tis the likes of that lad will get us out from under the British, you mark my words! Something’s happening, Mary girl, I can feel it, and especially after all the talk at the meeting the other night. The whole city is on tenterhooks. So go and see him, and tell him he’s in our prayers, but mind no one sees you and make sure you’re back before the master gets home. If anyone asks, especially that nosey Jimmy, tell them you’re going on a message for me to get ribbon for the mistress’ Easter bonnet. There’s a new length of green satin ribbon in the dresser there. Put it in your pocket in case you’re questioned.’
Mary felt a rush of love for the old woman. Running to her, all thoughts of the horrible Mr Grant forgotten, she hugged Mrs Kearns.
‘Will you get off me, you daft girl! And get on with peeling the spuds for the soup. There’ll be nothing eaten in this house tomorrow but soup and fish, being Good Friday, so be sure to have plenty of it made.’ The normal work of the morning began, but all Mary could think of was seeing Rory.
Chapter 20
She ran into the park, her hair escaping from under her hat in the brisk April breeze. She passed a British patrol as she made her way in and the way they looked at her made her shiver. Sometimes, she looked at them, when she was stopped on the tram or something, and tried to imagine them as ordinary lads. Most of them were no older than Rory. Did they have mothers and sisters and sweethearts back in England? One time she mentioned her thoughts to Eileen and Mrs Kearns and they both admonished her. Mrs Kearn’s uncharacteristically harsh words rang in her ears.
‘They’re s
oldiers of a foreign king, ruling our country by savagery and violence and we have to get them out, by whatever means are necessary. That’s the only thought you need have about them, my girl.’
As she approached the bandstand, her heart sank, he wasn’t there. Couples walked in the park, a woman passed by with a baby in a pram, and two little children threw crumbs for the ducks, but there was no sign of Rory. She leaned against a pole beside the ornate but empty bandstand, catching her breath. She jumped when she felt two arms go round her waist from behind.
‘’Tis only me.’ Rory chuckled as he kissed her neck. She knew such public displays would earn Mrs Kearns’ deep disapproval, but it was just so good to see Rory again. She wanted him to kiss her forever. They began walking in the bright sunshine and it felt like nothing could ever go wrong. They chatted about this and that, and she wondered what was so urgent that he had to see her since he seemed so relaxed. A pair of young men came towards them dressed in British uniforms, but they spoke with Dublin accents. Rory began softly to sing,
Come all ye scholars saints and bards,
Says the grand old dame Britannia.
Will ye come and join the Irish Guards,
Says the grand old dame Britannia.
Oh, don’t believe them Sinn Fein lies,
And every Gael that for England dies,
Will enjoy ‘Home Rule’ 'neath the Irish skies,
Says the grand old dame Britannia.
Now Johnny Redmond you’re the one,
You went to the front and you fired a gun,
Well you should have seen them Germans run,
Says the grand old dame Britannia.
But if you dare to tread on the German’s feet,
You’ll find a package tied up neat,
A Home Rule badge and a winding sheet,
Says the grand old dame Britannia.
The soldiers stopped, recognising the jibe. They looked around them, fearful it was an ambush. Members of Sinn Fein, the political wing of the Volunteers, were everywhere, and the country was deeply divided. The press were full of John Redmond’s entreaties for young Irish men to do their duty and fight for England in Europe, but those who did were held in deep disgust by the Volunteers. ‘If they are so anxious to shoot people and die, then they should be shooting at the English, not for them, and dying for Ireland,’ Rory was often heard to say. It was the subject of their first argument as he expounded his views at the side of the range in the Grants’ kitchen one night while Mrs Kearns made them cocoa. Mary pointed out that some families were so poor that it was the only option. What else were they to do to feed their families?
‘Ah Mary, my darling, who is keeping them poor though? The king himself, that’s who. Twill never change unless we change it, and sending our fellas off to have their arses blown off by German lads that we have no gripe with, is just compounding the problem.’
‘You’ll keep a civil tongue in your head, Mr O’Dwyer, if you know what’s good for you.’ Mary recalled Mrs Kearns, as she spoke sharply to Rory, diffusing the situation, though Mary knew that Mrs Kearns wholeheartedly agreed with him. She had joined Cumann na mBan a few months earlier and was every bit as enthusiastic as the mistress was. Unlike Rory though, she still didn’t blame these boys for joining up. He and Eileen had grown up on a farm, and there was always enough to eat and a warm bed to sleep in. Sometimes he just didn’t understand.
The soldiers passed and Rory stopped beside a side path into the woods. He put his arm around her and squeezed her waist. He looked deeply into her eyes and raised his eyebrows questioningly.
She knew she should stop him. That’s what nice girls did, but she nodded and he led her wordlessly into a copse of trees. She was creating an occasion of sin, as Sister Benedict would have put it. She knew she was, yet she felt her breath quicken with excitement. He walked ahead of her, holding her hand until they could no longer see the manicured lawns and paths of the park. The sun shone and dappled through the leaves, and Mary wished the moment would never end.
Slowly, and without his usual joking, Rory unbuttoned her coat and slipped his arms around her tiny body, pulling her close. Lowering his head he tilted her face up towards him, and for the second time that day Mary’s face was just inches from a man’s. This time the sensation was one with which she was unfamiliar. Heat flooded her body and she wanted Rory to hold her, touch her. She knew very little about men and women, apart from what she had learned in the cell with the prostitutes of Dublin that night. She didn’t think any of that information applied to her and Rory, but she did know that to do anything with a man was a sin unless within holy matrimony and then only for the procreation of children. Suddenly she knew why her mother had fallen foul of a man. If she felt about Mary’s father the way Mary did about Rory, then she could, for the first time in her life, understand why she did what she did.
Almost without her realising it, she found herself reaching up and putting her arms around Rory’s neck, drawing him to her. As his lips touched hers, she felt weak and energised at the same time. She kissed him back, hungrily, hoping she was doing it right. He’d often pecked her on the cheek or even a quick kiss on the lips if no-one was watching, but she’d never been kissed like this.
He kissed her deeply and she wanted it to go on forever. She wound her fingers through his hair as he drew her even closer to him. She started as she felt his arousal against her stomach, but instead of moving away as she knew she should, she leaned her body closer to him. She could hear him moan with pleasure as his hands roamed all over her back and down onto her bottom. On and on they kissed, their bodies straining to join together.
Eventually, reluctantly, they drew apart.
‘Oh Mary, I wish we could stay here forever and let the rest of the world go to hell. I had to see you. I need to tell you something but you can’t tell a soul, not even Eileen.’
Mary nodded. This was not like Rory to be so serious.
‘I need to tell you that I love you. I know we haven’t had much time together. I know you’ve been so patient and that you understand why I can’t spend as much time with you as I’d like to...’
‘Of course I do, Rory,’ Pure, unadulterated joy spread through her. Rory loved her.
‘I love you too. No one has ever said those words to me in my life before, and I’ve never said them to another living soul but I know I love you too, Rory O’Dwyer.’
‘Ah ,my lovely Mary! Please God, when this is all over, and we’re free of the bloody British, we can settle down, get a little house and get married and have a family. Fine strong sons and beautiful daughters who’ll look just like their Mammy, and we’ll teach them to be decent and honest and brave.’
‘I’d love that,’ Mary whispered.
‘But it can’t be now, that’s what I came to tell you. I want to marry you. I’ll never feel about anyone the way I feel about you, but I can’t ask you, not yet. I don’t want your name up with mine for your own safety, do you understand? If anyone asks, you only know me as Eileen’s brother, nothing more.’
Mary nodded.
‘Do you know something, Rory?’
He nodded gravely.
‘This weekend. It’s planned for this weekend. The whole country will rise in rebellion. You can’t tell a soul, Mary, promise me.’ His eyes blazed intently at her as he cradled her head in his big hands.
‘I promise,’ she whispered. This was real, maybe this was the last time she would ever see him. The unfairness of it all stung her.
‘Now I know there’s no point in asking you to stay out of it. The women will be needed as well, and anyway you’ve all been preparing for this for so long, but please, my darling girl, will you keep yourself safe in as much as you can?’
Tears stung her eyes. How cruel life could be! She had never known love in her whole life and here she was, aged just twenty-one years and the man she adored was going to war.
‘Ah Mary mo chroi, don’t cry, don’
t cry, my love. I’ll do everything I can to make this a free country for our children to grow up in. We have to take this cup, just like Our Lord did. He couldn’t avoid it, and he did it to save us, and what we are going to do is the same. Good men are leading us, and they’re leaving their loved ones too. We are taking on the mighty British Empire. The odds might be against us, but right is on our side, Mary, and we have to try. The alternative, consigning ourselves and our children to a life of penury, is unthinkable. I give you two solemn promises before I leave you. The first is that I will love you, and only you to the day I die. The second is that I will do everything in my power to make that day many, many years from now. But Mary, if it’s not, and I get killed, live your life. Do you hear me? Live your life, get married, have children. Be happy and know that I’m looking down on you and blessing you every day.’
They stood together, holding each other close.
‘I have to go,’ he whispered into her hair.
She held him even tighter, willing herself not to beg him to stay.
‘I love you, Rory,’ she said, looking up at him. ‘Please be careful.’
He held her face between his hands and she could feel his rough, calloused skin.
‘I love you too, darling Mary. Goodbye, my love.’ He kissed her on the head, as a mother might kiss her child, and then he was gone.
Chapter 21
Easter Monday Morning, 1916
‘Rise from your knees, oh daughters rise, your mother still is young and fair,
Let the world look into your eyes, and see her beauty shining there.
Grant of that beauty but one gleam, heroes shall rise on every hill.
Today shall be as yesterday, the blood red burns in Ireland still.’
Mary gazed mesmerised at Mrs Grant. The poem, written by Susan Mitchell, had appeared in the Cumann na mBan newsletter earlier in the month, and it had stirred them all to hear Mrs Grant recite the words aloud in the kitchen. While Mrs Kearns, Eileen, and Mary stood there, resplendent in their uniforms, she felt the weight of history heavy on her shoulders.
Jean Grainger Box Set: So Much Owed, Shadow of a Century, Under Heaven's Shining Stars Page 52
