Jean Grainger Box Set: So Much Owed, Shadow of a Century, Under Heaven's Shining Stars

by Jean Grainger

  Eileen nodded, clinging to the brother she had adored since babyhood. He hugged her tightly and then let her go. Turning to Mary, he wiped the tears from her face with his thumbs. She tried to hold them in but it was impossible.

  ‘Mary Doyle, you’ll remember our promise, now won’t you? Live your life, girl. I know you’ll grieve for me, at least I hope you will.’ He managed a little chuckle. Even facing death, he was always a joker. ‘But remember that someday, I want you to find a man, one who’ll love you almost as much as I do. You are brave and beautiful and good and kind and I feel so privileged to have known you.’

  He led them to the back of the cell and whispered to them, ‘Now listen carefully to me, both of you. I want you both out of Dublin, as soon as you can. Now that Grant has got what he wanted, he has no reason to keep you and I’m afraid of what he’ll do. Don’t even go back to that house for your things, Mary, it’s too risky. And don’t say a bit to anyone, not even Mrs Grant or Mrs Kearns. I don’t want him going looking for ye. He’ll be dealt with as I said, but I don’t know when. So in the meantime, stay below in Limerick with Mam and Dad, both of you. Will ye do that, promise me?’ Both girls nodded.

  Mary threw all caution to the wind. She needed to tell Rory how she felt. Normally she would never have spoken like that in front of anyone, even Eileen, but these were not normal times.

  ‘I love you, Rory. You were all I ever dreamed of. In fact, I never even dreamed that someone like me would be loved by anyone, let alone someone like you. Thank you, Rory, thank you for giving me a life.’ She kissed him softly on the lips and released him. Eileen once more clung to him, and he rubbed her hair for a few moments until the door opened and the officer appeared once more.

  ‘Time’s up, I’m afraid.’

  They looked back at the handsome, cheerful Rory O’Dwyer and smiled their brightest smiles.

  ‘Slán libh,’ Rory raised his hand in a wave goodbye.

  Chapter 30

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen, please return to your seats and fasten your seatbelts as there are ten minutes to landing. Aer Lingus would like to remind passengers that use of the toilets is prohibited until after the captain has switched off the fasten seatbelts sign and the aircraft has come to a complete stop.’ The soft Irish brogue of the flight attendant matched perfectly the rolling, fertile landscape below.

  Eileen looked down on the land as the patchwork of green fields and wild ocean became ever closer, lost in silent contemplation. Scarlett wondered what she was thinking about. She had become silent since the first sight of Ireland. Scarlett often wondered why someone so deeply entrenched in Irish history and culture had never gone there before.

  On the night they decided to make the trip, Eileen had told her a bit more about her background. She was born in 1922, which would make her ninety three years old. Her mother was a woman called Mary Doyle who worked for a couple called the Grants, and that somehow she was there in the GPO in 1916. Eileen promised to tell her the whole story when they got to Ireland.

  Scarlett leaned over, pointing things out of the window to Lorena. It had been Eileen’s idea to bring her when she heard from Scarlett about her mother’s recovery.

  Scarlett initially rejected the idea out of hand, and even though Eileen had convinced her, she still worried that she had made the right decision. Apart from anything else, like the fact that Lorena would drive her insane, and drive Eileen insane, and that Ireland was a Catholic country where she might actually get more fanatical, it was not that kind of trip. They were meeting various academics and writers to discuss the flag, and there would be no place for Lorena in that. Plus in reality, her mother was a loose cannon who could do or say anything. Though she was undoubtedly coming back to her old self, and she looked very glamorous, Scarlett had to admit, the new, saner Lorena was still a bit odd by anyone’s standards.

  Lorena had been so excited at the prospect of the trip that Scarlett felt she couldn’t back out, despite her many reservations. On a few occasions before her mother was discharged, Scarlett had brought Eileen to visit. The two women, while they had utterly different personalities, actually got on very well. Eileen thought Lorena was hilarious and loved to hear her take on the activities of the celebrity world. Lorena wasn’t a reader, not like Eileen was, but she loved the gossip magazines, so she kept them both entertained with stories of Botox gone wrong and the crazy things people do to get thinner. Whenever Lorena was irritating Scarlett, Eileen intervened and diffused the situation.

  So far she’d been ok. Scarlett was prepared for her mother to have a break-out, to do or say something inappropriate, but so far she was kind and sweet and easy to please. In the airport, a chubby woman behind them in the security line, wearing a garishly coloured tracksuit and a birds nest hairdo had stared at Scarlett and whispered something to her husband. Lorena overheard the name Charlie Morgan and the word ‘slut’.

  She had whipped around, almost knocking Eileen over with her enormous Louis Vuitton fake carry-on, to face the woman squarely.

  ‘Excuse me M’am, If you imagine for one moment you know anything about my daughter, or if you believe yourself to be so righteous that you can remark on the private lives of others,’ Lorena’s southern accent cut the air around them as gathered passengers stared, ‘then my heart goes out to you, sir. That’s a terrible cross to have to bear, to share your life with such a judgemental person.’

  Eileen grinned delightedly, and the woman turned indignantly away and joined another line, dragging her bewildered husband with her. As she moved away, Lorena added in her haughty tones, loud enough for other passengers to hear, ‘Incidentally dear, there comes a time in every woman’s life when sportswear is no longer appropriate. Only those with the body of an athlete should wear the clothes of an athlete.’ Scarlett was mortified. Lorena patted her hand and then practically pushed her into the handsome customs official.

  ‘Oh sir, you can check my daughter through first. You look strong enough to lift that big bag of hers. It’s much heavier than mine. You know all the cosmetics and such these young single girls need.’ She winked on the single and laughed her flirtatious tinkly laugh. Scarlett glanced apologetically in his direction, noting the wedding ring on his left hand. He smiled gently and went to deal with another passenger while his female colleague smirked at Scarlett’s discomfort and patted her down. It felt like every passenger going through security was watching this pantomime. On the next belt the exasperated customs official was pulling all kinds of contraband from Lorena’s bag.

  ‘Mom!’ Scarlett hissed over at her. ‘I told you no liquids and no sharp things.’

  ‘But Scarlett honey, who am I going to stab with this teeny nail file and scissors? And the water is for you. I know you get so hot. And I just had to bring my perfume. You bought it for me last Christmas and I know how expensive it is, so I didn’t want to risk losing it if our bags went missing,’ Lorena argued reasonably as the security guard tried to put the items in the large clear bin beside him.

  Eventually, and without Lorena’s perfume and nail set, they emerged from the security area. Scarlett was fit to scream. Eileen had placed her bag on the belt and it had gone through with no problem.

  She couldn’t help but think back to that last time she was in JFK airport, flying back from Washington, DC after the midterm elections, having covered the political campaign, a well-respected political journalist whose star was on the rise. How far the mighty have fallen, she thought to herself, as she saw her reflection in the window of a shop full of over-priced luggage. Here she was now travelling to the home of her drunk of a father, in the company of a mentally disturbed mother who was determined to find Scarlett a ‘nice husband of her own,’ and a very old lady who was carrying a blood-stained, hundred-year old flag as carry-on baggage. How bizarre!

  Settled in their seats, Scarlett had to smile at Lorena’s enthusiasm for everything. She realised her mother had never flown before, and she was glad she was able to
give her the opportunity, despite the drama at customs. Now the wave of embarrassment had passed, Scarlett realised how nice it felt to have her mother stand up for her to that horrible woman in the tracksuit. The weeks in hospital had done her the world of good. She no longer prayed constantly, nor did she like to talk about Father Ennio. Because Scarlett had more time on her hands, she had spent long afternoons sitting in the garden of the hospital, reading to her mother from celebrity biographies or just chatting. It felt like a lot of the prickliness was gone from their relationship, They were just a mother and daughter. They talked about Charlie, and Lorena was much more compassionate than she had been at the time the story broke. Gone were the recriminations and talk of sins, and in their place an easy peace and understanding interspersed with indignation at how that low-life had treated her darling daughter.

  One day, when Lorena mentioned Vivien Leigh, Scarlett took the opportunity to raise the subject of how much she hated her name.

  She explained to Lorena how hard it was to go through life with a name like Scarlett O’Hara, the jokes, the constant teasing. It had not been her intention but as she spoke, all the resentment and anger came out and the floodgates opened. Out of nowhere came all the recriminations, buried for so long. She railed against her mother for marrying Dan, for staying with him, for putting Scarlett through all that misery; and for never having the courage to leave, if not for herself, then for her daughter.

  Lorena cried, not tears of self-pity, but tears of genuine grief for the life she and Scarlett could have had. She couldn’t explain why she had stayed, but she apologised to her daughter for the mistakes that she made. She admitted she should have left Dan. But once she married him, her family told her she was on her own. They had hated him the one time they met him. She explained that she had no where else to go, no skills, no way of making money, and she feared that if she left him, if she failed to provide for her little girl, Scarlett would have been taken into care.

  ‘I couldn’t bear to lose you, Scarlett. I could endure anything but that, and I knew he’d never hurt you. He loved you. I remember that time I came to pick you up from that children’s home in Queens, and you had such a nice time there that you didn’t want to come home. They offered that you stay on for a while, but I couldn’t do it. Maybe I should have, but you are the only thing in my life that I’m proud of. I should have let you go, let you be fostered by a nice normal family, but I was selfish, I needed you. I’m so sorry, Scarlett.’ Her voice cracked with emotion.

  ‘I would never have wanted to be fostered, Mom. I just wanted it to be just us, without Dan.’ They sat in silence for a while, holding hands, each lost in her own private thoughts, trying to process what had just happened. Eventually Scarlett spoke, and surprised herself when she felt no more resentment. It was as if she had let it go in that outburst, and now she could see her mother properly, maybe for the first time. Lorena wasn’t perfect. She had made mistakes and Scarlett did suffer as a result, but she knew that everything her mother did was out of love, her only motivation, the love of her child.

  She spoke quietly, still holding her mother’s hand. ‘I understand now a bit better why you did it. You were only acting out of love and y’know, people make mistakes. I’m not exactly without flaws myself so who am I to criticise you? I’m sorry I let you down, y’know, with Charlie and everything...’

  Lorena held one of Scarlett’s hands in both of hers, looking deeply into her daughter’s eyes. ‘I’ve always been proud of you Scarlett, always. So you fell for the wrong man. I’m not in a position to berate you for that, am I?’ An easy silence settled between them as the gentle breeze ruffled the flowers in the hospital garden. They sat silently, letting go at long last all of the hurt.

  ‘Why the name, though, Mom? Surely you knew what you were doing to me?’ Scarlett asked because it still rankled with her.

  ‘I named you Scarlett O’Hara because, in my eyes, nobody, not even Vivien Leigh herself, was as beautiful as my baby girl. I still think that, and nobody ever will be.’

  The terminal seemed to be like every other one all over the world. Bright, smooth, light coloured tiles and lots of plate glass. The customs and passport control was quick and impersonal. And in a matter of minutes, they found themselves standing in the arrivals area, waiting to be claimed like pieces of lost luggage. Eileen and Lorena both needed the bathroom so she accompanied them. Eileen seemed sobered to be in Ireland, but Lorena was blissfully unaware and chattered incessantly about John Wayne and Barry Fitzgerald in The Quiet Man.

  When they returned to the Arrivals area, they found a tall, dark featured man holding up a sign with Eileen’s name on it. There was no way the guy was Irish, so he couldn’t be this Fiachra McCarthy who was supposed to meet the, could he? Lorena was telling Eileen about how the air was so fresh here and was gushing on about the inside of the airport terminal. Scarlett was trying to keep her irritation in check. Lorena was just excited, she knew, but her endless chatter was starting to get on Scarlett’s nerves. She was about to point this out when the man turned and beamed at them.

  ‘Mrs Chiarello?’ He extended his hand to Eileen and she offered hers in return.

  ‘Mr McCarthy. Nice to meet you at last.’ Eileen was calm and gracious as always, the opposite of Lorena, who was now trying to get her cell phone to work by pressing buttons repeatedly. Scarlett wanted to hear what he said to Eileen, but her mother’s frustration with the phone was drowning them out. Why this mattered was a mystery anyhow, as she only ever called Scarlett. So she resisted a sarcastic remark as she gently took the phone and got it working.

  So the man talking to Eileen was in fact Fiachra McCarthy after all, though he didn’t look like any Irishman she’d ever seen. He was tall and slim, in his mid-forties, she guessed, athletic looking, with jet black hair and olive skin and his face was lit up by warm, dark brown eyes. He looked more Turkish or North African than Irish.

  ‘Well, Mr McCarthy,’ Eileen began to introduce them when he interrupted, ‘Fiachra, please.’

  Eileen smiled as if these new ways of addressing total strangers by their first names was ridiculous, but she went on, ’Very well, as you wish. Fiachra, these are my friends Scarlett and Lorena O’Hara from New York. This is Fiachra McCarthy from the Department of An Taoiseach. It was he who first contacted me about the flag.’ She added by way of explanation for Lorena.

  ‘What a lovely name you have, sir. So unusual, how do you pronounce it again?’ Lorena beamed, as she shook his hand vigorously and her southern accent seemed even more pronounced to Scarlett, like she was putting on the Southern Belle act. She must stop it, she admonished herself, or everything out of her mother’s mouth would drive her crazy.

  Fiachra smiled and Lorena melted. ‘Well, it’s like Fee ack rah. My mother wanted us all to have Irish names so I fared a little better than some of my siblings. But working in the Department of Foreign Affairs with a name like mine can be challenging as people try to pronounce it.’

  Shaking Scarlett’s hand, he turned his smile on her. She was waiting for the usual smart ass remark that came after she was introduced for the first time.

  ‘It’s lovely to meet you, Lorena and Scarlett. Welcome to Dublin!’

  Scarlett was amazed. No comment on her name at all. Either the guy lived under a rock and had never heard of the name before, which she doubted, or he was a most unusual person.

  ‘Well, if ye are ready, I’ll let ye get to the hotel. I hope you’ll be comfortable there. It’s not far, so I’ve organised a taxi. Maybe tomorrow if you’re feeling up to it, Mrs Chiarello, we can meet to discuss your flag? There is to be a meeting of minds, and of artefacts, on Thursday in the National Museum in Collins’ Barracks where people, from all over Ireland and indeed the world, are meeting to share what they have brought, and for the historians and organisers of the commemoration to catalogue it. As a project, it’s huge, as you can imagine, so the first phase is to see what we’ve got and maybe to see what th
e various things can tell us about the period. I really must thank you again for bringing the flag home. I can’t tell you what it means to us.’

  ‘I’m glad to be able to do it, I wouldn’t have been without Scarlett here. Regarding the arrangements, that sounds fine, Fiachra,’ Eileen said.

  He assisted them to the waiting cab and helped them load their luggage. Eileen and Lorena settled in the back, and Fiachra held the passenger door open for Scarlett.

  ‘I’ll see you tomorrow, Scarlett, if you're coming with Mrs Chiarello. She mentioned in her letter that you were assisting her?’ he asked.

  ‘Sure.’ Scarlett smiled. ‘I’m looking forward to it.’

  Chapter 31

  ‘A dhaoine uaisle, go raibh mile maith agaibh go leir dun teacht anseo inniu.’

  Scarlett was sitting beside Eileen as the leader of the Irish Government addressed the gathered crowds. He was fair-haired, of average build, and spoke with a soft brogue rather than the more musical accent of the Dublin area she’d heard many times since arriving. He didn’t have the shiny, polished look of American politicians. She thought he looked like someone who was real, someone for whom life was not a series of sound bites and snapshots. He seemed quietly confident and she found herself being well predisposed towards him. The man was speaking in Gaelic, and Scarlett hadn’t the faintest clue what he was saying. Eileen, however, seemed entranced.

  ‘Can you understand him?’ Scarlett whispered in Eileen’s ear.

  Eileen just smiled and nodded. ‘Perfectly.’

  As Scarlett had come to expect, Eileen did not elaborate how a woman, who lived her whole life in the United States, could speak this language of Ireland.

  To the relief of the gathered assembly, many of whom were foreigners, he reverted, after the initial address, to speaking in English.

  ‘Ladies and Gentlemen, what an honour it is for me to stand before you today. As Taoiseach of the Irish Republic, to welcome the descendants of those brave men and women of 1916 to our capital city is a highlight of my career. On behalf of myself and of the government, but most of all on behalf of the Irish people, I thank you all for making the journey to Ireland. Many of you have travelled long distances to be here with us, coming from Australia, New Zealand, the United States of America, Canada, Japan, South Africa, Singapore, South America, Ghana, and from all over Europe. I’m sure you all had to go to considerable lengths to be here with us today and we do appreciate it, very much.