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

by Jean Grainger

  I made you promise me, before Easter Week, that if anything happened to me, you were to live your life, get married, have children and be happy. I still want you to keep that promise Mary, though I pray every night that we may grow old together. I know how lonely you’ll be over there in America, at the start anyway. I’m sending this letter to one of the addresses I gave you. I’m not exactly sure where you are, but I hope they are kind to you and that they’ll be able to get this to you. Write back to me as soon as you can and send it to Mrs G’s. I’ll call in from time to time to check on them anyway.

  Please don’t even think about coming back. We are close to victory, Mary, I know we are and with Collins in charge, we’ll finally get what we always dreamed of. I’ll send you the fare home, the minute it’s safe, but I mean it about not coming back. None of this is worth it for me if anything happened to you.

  I’ve no news to tell you, sure I only saw you this morning, but I miss you so much ’tis like a pain in my chest. I’m just going to throw myself into getting this job done as fast as we can.

  I’m going to do every single thing in my power to get you home safe and we’ll have a great life together if God spares me. Home to a new, free Ireland, where we can live and love for the rest of our days. I’m starting to believe what Mick says about me, that I’m like a cat, with more than one life.

  So my darling girl, mind yourself, and I’ll try to mind myself too, and we’ll be together again.

  I love you always and forever,

  Rory

  Her body wracked with tearless sobs while Abilene cradled her in her arms.

  The baby was born in October, in the Chiarellos’ house. They refused to listen to Mary’s protests that she should get an apartment of some kind, and took great care of her as her pregnancy progressed. She gave birth to a little girl that she called Eileen in honour of her aunt and Mary’s best friend. She wished she could be called Eileen O’Dwyer, but she had promised Rory she would stay safe, and now she had to keep his daughter safe as well. Every time the baby smiled she saw Rory, and she realised he had never really left her.

  A truce had been signed in Ireland. But as soon as it had, trouble broke out again. Collins had given six Ulster counties in the north to England it seemed, and half the IRA members were appalled. De Valera raged against his former friend and comrade. Collins claimed it was a start, the best that could have been achieved, but it divided the country. Eileen was disgusted with the agreement and sided with De Valera, claiming Collins was a traitor to his country. Mrs Grant and Mrs Kearns on the other hand were loyal to Collins. Apparently the housekeeper and Eileen met at a Cumann na mBan meeting and sharp words were exchanged. Mary hated the thought that her friends were so deeply divided. Her instinct was to trust Collins, for she was sure that’s what Rory would have done, though Eileen didn’t agree. Mary remembered the night in the doctor’s house in Westmorland Street when the big handsome West Cork man held her hands and looked into her eyes and she thought he could be forgiven anything. She was wrong.

  Reading their letters, each side full of contempt for the other, Ireland felt less and less like somewhere she wanted to be. She was tired of it all, of this endless war. And as the months went on and Eileen grew to recognise her surroundings and come to love the Chiarellos, New York became home. Sean called often with his daughters, who doted on baby Eileen and soon these people became her family. With every passing week, further news came from Ireland of all out civil war. The English were gone, at long last, but at least under them the country had been united in a common goal. She cried at the thought of everything Rory and men like him died for, all reduced to dust as Irishmen turned on each other.

  On 22 August 1922, word reached America that the anti-treaty side had shot Michael Collins and killed him in his native Cork. Mary got the news from Carmel, who came out to the garden where Mary was playing with little Eileen on a blanket. Then and there she knew. She would never again go back.

  Chapter 41

  ‘The Republican Plot in Glasnevin cemetery is a who’s who of the struggle for Irish independence. The biggest memorial is of course to Collins, though Daniel O’Connell’s tomb is fairly impressive,’ Fiachra explained as they went in the gates. ‘But they’re all here, Kevin Barry, a young medical student executed by the British, Brendan Behan, the writer, Roger Casement, Cathal Brugha, Harry Boland, Collins’ best friend who took the other side in the Civil War. Over there is Charles Stuart Parnell and that’s De Valera’s spot. My dad used to bring us here when we were kids, and he always used to say there must be desperate fighting and arguing going on with all those lads buried here together.’ Scarlett and Eileen smiled as they weaved through the headstones, pausing here and there to read inscriptions.

  ‘There’s Rory O’Dwyer, he was one of Collins’ right hand men, he…’

  ‘He was my father,’ Eileen said quietly.

  Scarlett and Fiachra stood in stunned silence.

  ‘He was picked up by the British. There was a particular officer who had a gripe against my parents, and he had my father arrested, tortured and shot two days after my mother left for America. They dumped his body on the street. She had been interrogated earlier and badly beaten up and everyone felt it was safer for her to get away from this Captain Johnson. My father was to send for her as soon as it was safe. What neither of them knew at that stage was that she was pregnant with me. She got the news of his death when she landed in New York.’

  ‘Oh Eileen, how awful. I’m so sorry, your poor mother…’ Scarlett looked at Eileen in sympathy.

  ‘Mrs Grant, she had connections everywhere, so she asked a woman who was a Cumann na mBan supporter to meet my mother and break the news to her. She was a Carmel Deasy from Ireland but she married an Italian, Remo Chiarello, I called them Uncle Remo and Aunt Carmel all my life. They were wonderful to us. We took their name when we got there, as a precaution. At first, my mother really wanted to go back but we settled there, and she was just tired I think, tired of all of it. The fighting, the killing, and maybe she couldn’t go back to where she was with him, my father. It was too hard for her, she said. She qualified as a nurse in the states. She loved nursing and had a good life but she never saw any of them again. She kept in touch with the two old ladies, Mrs Grant and Mrs Kearns, until they died, and of course the O’Dwyers, my father’s family. I have lots of cousins in Limerick, my dad’s brothers’ and sisters’ children. I’ve even had some of them visit when they came to the States on student vacations over the years. My mother and Eileen stayed in touch until she died of breast cancer in 1944. If my mother was ever to consider going back, it would have been then, to attend the funeral, but what with the war, international travel was impossible. I remember we had a mass said for her in New York and my mother cried and cried. She was a tough lady, not given to overly emotional outbursts so it was a shock for me. I didn’t really understand. I was in my twenties then, and caught up in my own life, I guess. ’

  ‘Did your mother ever remarry?’ Scarlett asked.

  ‘No. There was only ever one man for her and that was Rory. She loved him to the day she died.’

  ‘And how about you, you never married either?’ Fiachra was curious.

  ‘No, I never did. I suppose I grew up hearing about this great love story between my parents and I guess I just never felt like that about anyone. I do regret that now, I think. They were so young, so very young, and living in wartime. Well, it heightens everything I think. They loved each other, I don’t doubt that, but maybe she should have tried to meet someone. She had lots of admirers. She looked a little like you, Scarlett, same beautiful red hair and complexion but she was tiny. I have had a great life, though, so don’t pity me. I spent my career doing things I cared deeply about and I had a great social life, I still do, and my mother and I were best friends. She made sure I knew all about my heritage, she taught me Irish, we read poetry, sang songs of Ireland, so even though this is my first time on the soil of Irela
nd, I’ve always felt it in my heart.’

  Scarlett and Fiachra smiled at Eileen’s philosophical attitude. She exuded common sense and despite a husbandless, childless life, you didn’t feel sorry for her.

  ‘We are going to give you some time here,’ Fiachra said, touching Eileen’s arm. We’ll be over in the coffee shop over there when you’re ready, ok?’

  As they sat in the bright coffee shop, they watched Eileen through the large plate glass windows. Tourists and locals alike mingled in this place, where the bones of those who freed this country rested side by side, and Eileen O’Dwyer said goodbye to her father.

  Chapter 42

  The sumptuous surroundings of the State Apartments of Dublin Castle looked wonderful as the gathered crowd took their seats. Each group checked where they were to sit and Fiachra led Eileen, Lorena, and Scarlett to their allocated places. He kissed Scarlett on the cheek as she sat down and she was touched by the gesture. After being hidden by Charlie for so long, a guilty, sordid secret, it felt good to be with a man who wanted to broadcast to the world that they were a couple.

  They’d had a wonderful ten days touring Ireland. It really was a beautiful country, and they even visited the O’Dwyer cousins in Limerick. They were invited for afternoon tea but didn’t leave the house until three a.m., and had to return to the hotel by taxi as Scarlett was incapable of driving after enjoying their hospitality. Lorena was in her element, flirting outrageously with the men. She still had a thing for Irish guys, it seemed. The food and drink were seemingly endless as more and more cousins arrived to meet Eileen.

  Fiachra was very busy with the commemoration preparations, but he drove to meet them several nights, getting up early to drive back to Dublin. If Lorena or Eileen were shocked by his overnight presence, they gave no indication of it.

  Today was the official ceremony where the artefacts, which by now had all been catalogued and the stories recorded on video for posterity, were to be given on loan to the Irish State. There was going to be a huge exhibition set up in one of the conference centres in the city, and everyone was going to be able to see the collection for free for the duration of the year 2016, the centenary of the Rising.

  Eileen had her flag, still in the cotton sheet her mother Mary had wrapped it in the day she left the Grants’ home for good. As the benefactors were handing over the artefacts they were to go up on stage, where eventually there was to be press photographs. The President of Ireland, the Taoiseach, as well as several dignitaries of various kinds were already in place on a podium to the left of the stage, to watch the proceedings.

  Last night Eileen had asked Scarlett to go up on stage on her behalf, she was afraid she wouldn’t make the stairs.

  ‘No way,’ said Scarlett, smiling at Eileen’s surprise at her refusal. ‘That’s your flag and it’s yours to hand over. I’ll go up with you. Hell, I’ll carry you if I have to, but you are doing this yourself. I will be right there beside you every step and you’ll be fine.’

  Eileen smiled put her arms out to her and they hugged. ‘I never had kids as you know, but if I did I’d want them to be exactly as you are. Thank you, Scarlett, from the bottom of my heart, thank you.’

  Fiachra crouched down beside Eileen as she sat in her seat. She looked lovely in a gold dress and coat which Lorena had helped her buy in a very expensive but gorgeous shop in Galway. On her lapel she wore her mother’s Cumann na mBan badge.

  ‘So, just wait till your name is called. Then you just walk up to the right there, up the stairs. Scarlett will be with you so don’t worry.’ He patted Eileen’s hand and winked at Scarlett before he went to help another benefactor.

  Lorena squeezed Scarlett’s hand. ‘Isn’t this exciting? It’s worth it to come for the fashion alone. Lorena had gone all out and looked amazing in an aquamarine dress. She radiated health and happiness and Scarlett was filled with love for her.

  ‘Scarlett!’ she hissed, ‘look at that green dress on that woman with the ash blonde hair.’ She nodded ahead and to the left. ‘She’s a little too busty for it but it would be beautiful on you.’ Scarlett shushed her, in case she was overheard. Lorena’s whispering was louder than most people’s talking.

  Lorena had been a revelation on the trip. She was no longer religious, it would seem. She hadn’t been inside a church since the Ennio episode, and she just adored everything about Ireland. She shopped until there wasn’t a dollar left on her credit card, which was paid by Scarlett anyway, and how they were going to get all the stuff home, Scarlett had no idea. Lorena looked lovely, back to her old self, still capable of saying completely the wrong thing, but she irritated Scarlett less. She couldn’t decide if it was that Lorena was easier to deal with or that Scarlett herself was mellowing.

  Last night she confided in her mother, the first time in years, that she had made a big decision. She was going to move to Ireland for six months. She was covering the commemorations for an Irish newspaper in New York. She had emailed Artie to see if he could pull any strings and he did. The money was small, but it allowed her and Fiachra some time to see if this relationship was going somewhere. She really hoped it was. Artie’s daughter and her family were going to rent her house since their apartment was to be redeveloped, so everything was falling into place. She just had to go back to New York for a few weeks to get everything fixed up and then she was coming back. Lorena was thrilled and told her that Fiachra was a keeper if ever she saw one. She promised to visit, and to bring Eileen with her.

  Scarlett watched the procession of people, all carrying their artefacts to the stage. Eventually she heard ‘Eileen O’Dwyer-Chiarello.’ Fiachra had changed the name on her donation as a surprise for Eileen. The old lady grinned broadly as her eyes shone with emotion. Scarlett took her arm and slowly walked up on stage to bring Eileen’s flag home.

  Thank you for reading my story. I really hope you enjoyed it. If you did, I would be so grateful if you would consider reviewing it for me. Feel free to follow me on Facebook at Jeangraingerauthor or check out my blog on www.jeangrainger.com.

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  Le Grá,

  Jean

  Glossary

  Irish Volunteers – The men who volunteered to join the armed Republican cause, set up in 1913.

  IRA – Irish Republican Army. An Act of Dáil Eireann turned the Volunteers into the I.R.A. 1919. Commonly known nowadays as the ‘Old I.R.A.’ Not to be confused with Provisional I.R.A., a terrorist group operating in Northern Ireland since 1969.

  Dáil Eireann – The Irish Parliament, located in Leinster House, Dublin.

  Taoiseach – Leader of the Irish Government.

  President of Ireland – A non-political appointment, Ireland’s head of state.

  Cumann na mBan – Women’s Army set up to operate independently, but in support of the Volunteers.

  The Lock-Out – the official reaction of the Dublin merchants to those who joined the first trade union in 1913. They were locked out of their places of work without access to either wages or social welfare. It caused widespread destitution. At the time Dublin had the highest infant mortality rate in Europe and the second highest in the world.

  Pádraig Pearse – the leader of the Irish Volunteers who read the Proclamation of Independence outside the General Post Office, (G.P.O.) on Easter Monday, 1916.

  Jim Larkin – Founder of the Irish Trade and General Workers Union. Hated by the industrialists, in particular William Martin Murphy. Larkin rallied the workers during 1913 Lock-out.

  James Connolly – Leader of the Irish Citizen Army, a socialist movement. He was an agitator during the Lock-out and one of the signatories of the Proclamation of Independence. He was shot after the Rising, tied to a chair as his leg was injured during the fighting.

  Éamon de Valera – A leader of the Voluntee
rs, but not a signatory of the Proclamation. He was not executed because he was an American citizen and to do so would have caused an international incident. He went on to lead the first Dáil and remained a colossus of Irish politics until his death in 1975.

  Michael Collins – A young volunteer in 1916 he was interned in Frongoch, Wales and went on to be Minister for Finance in the first Dáil. In reality, his role was as a military strategist and Director of Intelligence and was responsible for the success of the War of Independence. He lived openly but with a huge price on his head. The British never had a clear photograph of him so he was never arrested. He was shot during the Civil War in 1922 in his native Cork aged just thirty-two.

  Kilmainham Gaol – where the Volunteers were incarcerated immediately after the Rising and where the leaders were shot.

  Frongoch – An Internment camp in Wales where the Volunteers were incarcerated until Christmas 1916. While there, plans were made for the War of Independence.

  Eoin MacNeill – Chief of Staff of Irish Army who countermanded the order to rise in revolution on Easter Sunday 1916. This order caused widespread confusion and meant the Rising was restricted to Dublin rather than a nationwide action. The volunteers did not trust him so did not inform him until the last minute of their plans for revolution.