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

by Jean Grainger

  She smiled ruefully. ‘So I’m not very good at this. I don’t know the rules of this game either. But I would like to see you again too.’

  Fiachra took her and hand and put it to his lips. ‘How about we don’t play at all? Let’s just be straight, and honest, and see where that gets us?’

  Scarlett felt butterflies in her stomach. Was this really happening?

  ‘Novel approach, Mr McCarthy, but in principle, I like it.’ She grinned.

  He drew her to him, kissing her softly. She responded, moving closer to him, and she felt herself succumb to the desire she felt for him. On and on he kissed her as she was transported to a place where only they existed. She could feel her body reacting to him, in a way she’d not felt for the longest time, and she hesitated. What if it all went wrong again? She just couldn’t go through it again.

  Fiachra sensed her hesitation and stopped. He looked at her questioningly.

  ‘Is everything ok, Scarlett?’ she could hear the defensive tone, obviously a wound from the long gone Monique.

  ‘Yes. I really like you. I’m just wary I guess…’

  ‘Whew,’ he theatrically wiped his brow and nudged her playfully. ‘I thought you’d decided I’m a rotten kisser or something. Though you’d be wrong, of course, because Jacinta O’Leary told me I was the best kisser in the whole of fifth class in St Joachim and Anne’s National School in 1978, so I’ve always been confident in that department.’

  She punched him gently on the arm and laughed.

  When he went on, he spoke seriously. ‘Look, I know, do you think I’m not a bit scared too? You live in New York and I live here in the country you’re ambivalent about at best, and I’m not interested in just a holiday romance with you. I know I don’t know you really, not yet, but I’d like to get to know you, and sure we can see where it goes from there, ok?’

  ‘Ok,’ She sighed and nestled into his arms as they watched the moonlight ripple on the dark sea.

  The next morning she was late down to breakfast and Eileen and Lorena were almost finished with theirs. She ordered coffee. She would never understand the Irish obsession with tea and a cooked breakfast. The food in the hotel was delicious and though she never had anything more than fruit or a bowl of cereal at home, she found herself looking forward to the sausages and bacon offered in the hotel restaurant. She even loved the black pudding which apparently was made from congealed pig’s blood, but if you could forget that, it tasted amazing.

  ‘Good morning,’ she chirped as she sat in the last vacant chair at the table.

  ‘Good morning, darling,’ Lorena drawled. ‘How was your date last night?’ She winked.

  The usual exasperation she felt at her mother’s constant enquiries about her love life was absent, and she felt instead a wave of affection for her. She knew Lorena would always drive her crazy, no doubt about that, but she just wanted the fairy tale for her daughter. Despite her own grim experiences in life, she still believed in the Hollywood happy ending.

  ‘It was lovely. He’s really great and we had a great time. We’re going to try to spend some time together and see how it goes, but I really enjoyed it.’

  If Lorena was amazed at this new, forthcoming Scarlett, she gave no indication of it.

  ‘Oh honey, that’s wonderful! He seems such a nice man and you looked a million dollars last night, didn’t she Eileen?’

  ‘You looked lovely, Scarlett. Who knows, maybe the flag will be responsible for more than just commemorating the Rising. It’s early days, I know, but you deserve to be happy. You have been so kind to me, and if it weren’t for you I would never have come home. So if this trip has some added benefits for you, then that’s wonderful.’

  Scarlett was moved by the way Eileen referred to Ireland as home, despite the fact that she had never been there until now. She remembered her reaction a few days earlier at the meeting when the president talked about all those who fought to free Ireland, and though she didn’t really know the reasons for Eileen’s reaction, she knew her feelings for this country were deep and complex.

  What an odd trio we must look, she thought. But watching Eileen’s reaction to being here and seeing her mother return to her old self, she knew she had done the right thing. Scarlett thought back to that awful day with the creepy Fr Ennio and realised she was over the hurtful things Lorena had said. That wasn’t what she thought about her daughter, not really. She was just so influenced by that weirdo that she had been driven to the brink of insanity.

  Scarlett had spoken to the bishop’s office before they left New York, and it seemed that Ennio had been tracked down and was now in a secure psychiatric facility. The diocese wanted to know what action, if any, Scarlett or Lorena wanted to take. But when Scarlett raised the matter with her mother, she simply said that she never wanted to think about him again. Scarlett knew she was embarrassed by the whole episode and if she wanted to forget it ever happened, then the psychiatrist recommended she be allowed to do just that.

  Scarlett had explained the way her mother’s house was decorated to Artie and he’d organised for his daughter, who was an interior decorator, to go in and give the place a make-over. Lorena was delighted with her little home’s new look, all freshly painted in neutral creams and beiges with splashes of colour here and there in lamps and cushions. She even managed to source an original movie poster of Gone With the Wind which replaced the macabre religious decor.

  Lorena had invited them all to lunch the Sunday before they left for Ireland, and Scarlett hugged Artie gratefully in the little garden where he had slipped out for a cigarette. She even gave him a mint to hide the smell from his wife. Scarlett looked in the window at Artie’s daughter chatting animatedly with Eileen, while Lorena offered delicious nibbles, and she thought how lucky she was to have these people in her life. In a weird way, the craziness of that whole thing with Ennio had brought her closer to her mother. If, this time last year, someone had said they would be on vacation together, and not killing each other every five minutes, Scarlett would have laughed. That whole thing was best left in the past. Fiachra was right. Lorena was fragile and making her face difficult truths was cruel, so she continued her life as before, though without the creepy priest.

  The waiter delivered her breakfast and as she began to tuck in, she was waiting for Lorena to make some remark about her eating such calorific food.

  ‘I had that this morning, and my Lord, it was just about the best breakfast I ever ate,’ she said, eying Scarlett’s bacon. ‘How do they get it all crispy like that?’’

  Scarlett grinned. ‘I don’t know, happy pigs maybe? So ladies, what’s our plan today?’

  Eileen sipped her tea and said, ‘Well, there are some places I want to go. I spoke to Fiachra this morning and he’s going to take me, I told him there was absolutely no need but he said he wanted to. I think he was hoping you’d come as well, Scarlett.’ She smiled mischievously. ‘And you too of course, Lorena’, she added hastily.

  Scarlett knew that Eileen probably wanted to visit a grave or a house or something to do with her family here, and Lorena wittering on would be difficult to cope with, so as much as she would have enjoyed the day and longed to see Fiachra again, she decided there and then to let him take Eileen on his own and she’d babysit Lorena.

  But before Scarlett had a chance to tell Eileen her plans, Lorena burst in, ‘Oh Eileen, I’m so sorry but do you mind if I don’t? I saw some wonderful little stores with the most darling things when we were shopping for Scarlett, and I’d love a shopping day. I promise I won’t buy much, but I’d love something for my living room now that it looks so lovely. A little memento. All this culture and history is making me kinda dizzy. I know you guys love all this stuff but it kind of leaves me cold. The past is best left where it is, in the past, but that’s just me, I guess. And anyway, I saw an old movie house, just like the ones I used to take you to, Scarlett. I know those multiplex places are all the rage now, but I just love those old the
atres with the smells, and how you can be transported away to somewhere else…’

  Eileen and Scarlett chuckled at her. Scarlett remembered so many afternoons at the movies with her as a kid, usually after one of Dan’s attacks, and she used to watch Lorena’s face while munching popcorn and how she would be transfixed by the screen. The thoughts, however, of her wandering around a strange city on her own, especially one with so many Catholic churches, made Scarlett apprehensive.

  ‘I don’t know, Mom, you don’t even know the city...’ Scarlett began.

  ‘I’ll be perfectly fine,’ Lorena interrupted. ‘Scarlett, in case it passed your notice I have lived all my adult life in New York, so I think I can manage to go into a small town like Dublin and do a little window shopping and take in a movie, can’t I? I’ve checked it out and I’m going to take the bus into the city. It goes from right outside the hotel, and I’ll take a cab back here if I get tired. Now both of you go off with that gorgeous man and have a great day. Maybe now you can see what I saw in your father. In the early days he was quite the charmer, let me tell you.’

  She swept out of the dining room, in case there were any further objections, ready to launch herself on the unsuspecting shopkeepers of Dublin.

  Eileen smiled. ‘I know she’s been through a lot but she’ll be fine, I’m sure. She can turn on that southern charm if she gets lost and she’ll have them eating out of her hand. She really is great company, you know, she makes me laugh so much. All the staff here are crazy about her. She and I went for a little drink to the bar last night and she was flirting with the young barman, much to his delight. It was a lot of fun.’

  ‘You have a calming effect on her, I think. I don’t know why, but she doesn’t make me so crazy these days,’ Scarlett admitted. ‘It was good to talk to her, when she was in the hospital, about everything.’

  Eileen nodded. ‘We can’t hold bitterness forever. Get it out, then it doesn’t seem so bad.’

  Scarlett smiled. ‘Tell me all about it! I blurted out my whole life story last night, not the edited version, or the total fictitious version, but the real version. Dan, school, Lorena, Charlie, the works. Poor Fiachra!’

  ‘So is it a thing? As I believe young people say nowadays?’ Eileen smiled mischievously.

  ‘You’re watching too much TV!’ Scarlett chuckled. ‘I think it could be, it’s in the early days, I know, and I don’t want to get getting ahead of myself, but he’s nice.’

  ‘Nice?’ Eileen raised an eyebrow.

  ‘Ok hot, and sweet and funny and gorgeous and I’m crazy about him, ok? Happy now?’

  ‘And he’s definitely not married?’ Eileen was only half joking.

  ‘Nope, definitely not. He was engaged a while back but it didn’t work out so he’s free as a bird.’

  ‘Well, I’m delighted for you, I really am, and I hope it works out for you. My mother was a great believer in the uniqueness of Irish men, and if you got a good one, then there was nothing like them.’

  ‘Well Eileen, my experience of Irish men to date has left a lot to be desired, but I’m not letting the memory of Dan O’Hara take up any more space in my head. He’s gone and the past is in the past so I’m just going to forget about him and live my life.’

  Eileen got up to leave the table, and Scarlett noticed she was so frail. She often forgot just how old Eileen was, because she was mentally so sharp, but this trip really was taking a lot out of her.

  ‘Are you sure you want to do this today, Eileen? Maybe you should take a rest, you look tired.’ Scarlett was worried.

  Eileen put her hand on Scarlett’s arm.

  ‘Scarlett dear, I’ve waited all my life to do what I came here to do and today’s the day. I’m a very old woman, and I’ve lived a full and happy life. I’m not saying I’m ready to shuffle off just yet, but there are some things that need to be done before I rest and this is one of them. Will you help me?’

  Scarlett squeezed her hand. ‘Of course I will.’

  Chapter 37

  Fiachra and Scarlett stood back as the small figure of Eileen made her way to the memorial. The trip to Arbour Hill on the north side of the city was done mostly in silence since Eileen was lost in her thoughts and they didn’t want to disturb her.

  On the way she asked Fiachra to stop at a florist’s where she bought three large wreaths and a bunch of lilies. She asked Fiachra to put them in the trunk of the car without an explanation. The first stop was the memorial across from a modern day prison.

  ‘What is this place?’ Scarlett whispered to Fiachra as soon as Eileen was out of earshot.

  ‘It’s the place where the leaders of the rising were buried, though that’s not really accurate. After they were executed, they were thrown into a mass grave and quick lime poured on their bodies. This place used to be a British barracks. They were all sentenced to death here and shot. The writing on that wall up there, can you see it? It's the Proclamation of Independence. There’s a commemoration here every Easter, and the Proclamation is read aloud. The green rectangle is where the bodies were thrown and the names of the leaders are engraved all around the kerbstone.’

  Eileen carefully laid seven lilies on the edge of the memorial. Then she beckoned to them to come up.

  ‘There’s one each for the seven men who signed the Proclamation. I promised my mother I’d do it someday, and I thought I had let her down. But Scarlett, because of you, I’ve been able to keep my promise. My parents knew them all you know, but my mother always talked about Tom Clarke. He was a lovely man, she said. It was he who helped them get out of the GPO, her and Eileen, Mrs Kearns and Mrs Grant.’

  Eileen looked at the face of her young friend.

  ‘You came to me looking for a story, and instead you got me and all my baggage, as us Americans say. So, maybe now I should tell you the story, as much as I know it anyway.’ Scarlett linked her arm and led the old woman to a bench under a tree.

  ‘My parents were both in the GPO. They were only sweethearts then. My father was a Volunteer and my mother was a maid in a house here in Dublin. She was also a member of Cumann na mBan, and she, her employer Mrs Grant, her best friend who was my aunt, Eileen, and the housekeeper in Grants’ house, Mrs Kearns, were all there. My mother and Eileen had set up a first aid station and Mrs Kearns was cooking for the men and women inside the Post Office. Mrs Grant was a runner; that meant she was delivering messages all over Dublin between the various buildings they held. My mother often told me about when they tried to get out that Mrs Grant was so badly injured, she had to be carried. Pearse ordered all the women out, in the hope they would be spared, but my mother and her group missed the main evacuation of the women and were facing out into the street where the British were firing indiscriminately. There were lancers on horseback, and incendiaries going off everywhere. The whole street was in flames. Well, you’ve seen the pictures. They were looking for some way to get out, and to get to safety, but with Mrs Grant so badly hurt it was looking very bleak. They had been using flour bags from the mills down at Boland’s as bandages so they got the idea to make a white flag out of the flour bags to wave as they tried to leave the post office. Tom Clarke, he was one of the signatories buried over there, came by and helped them. He took off his own shoelaces and tied the flour bag to a broom handle. He and his wife, Kathleen, were good friends of Mrs Grant, and my mother said she remembered saying goodbye to him that day. Of course he was executed, along with all the others. My mother knew his wife well afterwards. They were involved with helping the families of the men who were in prison, or shot. He never knew it, but she was pregnant during the Rising, with their fourth child, but she didn’t tell him when they brought her to say goodbye. She didn’t want to add to his worry. She lost the child not long afterwards, poor woman. So, even after everything the women, and the men too of course, endured, they remained loyal to the cause and the belief in equality. They believed in the Proclamation.’

  Scarlett and Fiachra sat silently w
ith her as they looked back towards the monument.

  ‘It really was so far ahead of its time, wasn’t it?’ Scarlett said quietly. ‘You know, talking about men and women of Ireland, even before women had the vote, and cherishing all the children of the nation equally.’

  ‘They were brave men, and educated men, and the women who stood beside them were strong and determined. Some said it was foolish, that they could never win, but Kathleen Clarke told my mother that when they took her in to see Tom, the night before they shot him, a soldier was with them the whole time, and only one candle to light the cell, and he said that the leaders could die happy because they knew the first strike had been made and the next one would be successful. They were so selfless.’

  A few rain drops began to fall as they walked back to the car.

  ‘So Eileen, where would you like to go now?’ Fiachra asked as he helped her buckle up.

  ‘We have a few more stops to make, but perhaps a cup of tea first?’

  Fiachra smiled delightedly. ‘I’d murder a cup too, come on Eileen, we’ll get this one addicted between us.’ He chuckled, nudging Scarlett playfully as she settled into the front seat of his car.

  Scarlett retorted in mock distain, ‘It’s a vile substance. I don’t know what you people see in it. Take me somewhere I can get a latte and we’ll stay friends, ok?’

  Chapter 38

  ‘I’ve told you before, I haven’t seen him in months. He had no work here and he went to England, I had a letter from him about two months ago, from Birmingham.’ Mary rooted in her bag, determined to stop her hands from shaking. She proffered the letter, post marked Birmingham.

  ‘Right, you say your husband wrote to you on… let me see…’ the officer put on his glasses, ‘the 5th of November 1920, and you haven’t heard from him since?’ His voice was quietly threatening. This was the infamous Johnson, the most sadistic officer in Dublin Castle. She had seen him once or twice coming to the house late at night to meet with the master before the rebellion. She knew this wasn’t a chance arrest. He knew well who she was, and he wanted to hurt her. He specialised in interrogation, stopping at nothing to get the information he was after. He had been known to extract fingernails, even to rape women who would not speak. Mary was terrified of him.