The Linen Queen

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by Patricia Falvey


  For once I didn’t mention that I had warned her. “Aye. Sure they’re all the same.”

  Patsy looked at me. “Your chap might have a Jewish one hidden away over there too.”

  I shrugged. “He might.”

  I tried to sound offhand, but up until she said that the possibility had never even crossed my mind. Joel was not the type. I didn’t want to think that I could be wrong about him, but now I supposed I’d better watch myself all the same. I had come close to breaking my own rules with him the other night. I had shared more than was wise with him and he with me. Not only that, thank God I had not said anything about wanting to escape across the sea and away from this place. The way we were sharing everything so openly, I could easily have slipped. I promised myself I would be very careful not to fall into an emotional trap.

  “Should you go to his sergeant? Or I could go to Joel; he’s in charge of Sylvie’s squad,” I said, bringing the conversation back to Patsy. “It’s not right that he should get off scot-free. You should at least get some money out of him for the child—even if the bugger won’t marry you.”

  “Much good that would do. They stick together like glue. But I was thinking of going to see the priest—the old one, Father Toner, not that jumped-up young whippersnapper Father Flynn. There’s still time to make an honest woman out of me. After all, Sylvie is a Catholic. Father Toner could scare the shite out of him—tell him his mortal soul’s in danger.”

  “Aye, maybe,” I said. I didn’t tell Patsy what Grainne had said about the clergy all being in league with the army brass. She’d find out soon enough.

  “Will you go with me, Sheila? I’d be awful nervous going by myself.”

  “What?” I’d hardly heard what Patsy said.

  “To see Father Toner. You’ll go with me, won’t you?”

  God, what was I going to say? My first thought was that Patsy should be fighting her own battles and not dragging me into it at all. I cursed myself for having started the conversation with her in the first place. But, I supposed it would take my mind off my own troubles. And there might be some craic in it to see the priest’s face when he heard Patsy’s story.

  “Aye. I’ll go.”

  Patsy looked relieved and I went on about my work. But her relief didn’t last very long. At dinnertime when she and I and Kathleen were sitting on the wall outside the mill, Mary McAteer came sauntering up to us with Rose Boyle sniggering behind her. I rolled my eyes. What the feck did these two want?

  “Hello, everybody,” said Mary in a sweet voice that reminded me of Aunt Kate’s. “How’re youse?”

  “We’re just grand, Mary,” I said. “We’re enjoying our life of luxury at the minute.”

  She laughed. “Oh, you’re always so funny, Sheila. Isn’t she, Rose?”

  Mary turned to Rose and put her plump hand up to her cheek, waving it about like a bloody canary in a cage. I wondered what she was up to, and then I saw it. Something glittered on her finger. Jesus, it was a friggin’ ring—as big and shiny as the chandelier above the ballroom in the Castle Hotel. But I wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of mentioning it first. Poor, innocent Kathleen fell for it right away.

  “Och, Mary,” she said, “is that an engagement ring?”

  Rose sniggered again and Mary looked at her finger as if shocked to see the ring there. “This?” she said. “Oh yes, George gave it to me at the weekend. It was my birthday and he wanted to surprise me. I almost forgot.”

  Forgot, my arse, I thought. Then I looked over at Patsy and all the life had gone out of her face. This time the sympathy I felt for her was genuine. I could have strangled Mary around her fat neck.

  “Well, good for you, Mary,” I said. “When’s the baby due?”

  Mary’s eyes grew wide. Her face flushed. “What?” she cried. “There’s no baby; what are you talking about?”

  I shrugged. “Oh, pardon my mistake. I thought surely that was the only way you’d ever get any man to marry you, Mary.”

  Rose Boyle giggled and Mary gave her a black look. “Come on, Rose,” she commanded. “These ones are only jealous.”

  She linked her arm in Rose’s and the two of them walked away, arses waddling from side to side. But Mary had not had enough. “I’d invite youse all to the wedding,” she said over her shoulder, “but it’s going to be at George’s family estate in Philadelphia. I’ll send photos back, though.”

  “Feck off,” Patsy muttered under her breath.

  “That’s an awful thing you said to her, Sheila,” said Kathleen.

  “She deserved it.”

  Chapter 15

  If I’d thought I was mad in the head to be worrying about Patsy and her troubles, it was nothing to the mess I was going to get myself into with young Grainne. While I cared about what happened to Patsy, it was not going to change my life. I still had my eyes set on my goal of getting away from this place the first chance I got, and right now I still thought Joel was my best bet. If he had another girl, like Patsy said, well so much the better. When I turned him loose after he brought me to America, he’d have somebody to run back to and my conscience would be clear. But the episode with Grainne was a different kettle of fish altogether.

  It started on a Sunday night not long after the concert at the Flagstaff. I had gone back up there after Mass, as I often did, to try to clear my head. Joel and Gavin were both away so I had no fear of running into either of them. My plan had been to go on to the Ceili House later, but something made me change my mind and go home instead. God knows, I wish I had just gone there and the rest of it never would have happened.

  It was still light as I pushed open the front door of the house. Ma and Kate were away doing visiting rounds of Kate’s charity cases and I assumed Kevin was upstairs sleeping as usual. Grainne was probably in our room. Poor child didn’t seem to have any friends.

  In the parlor the fire was almost out, but a suffocating fog enveloped me. Something was wrong; I could sense it. I walked back through the scullery towards the granny room. As I approached I heard voices. Maybe Grainne had a friend visiting after all. But as I reached the door what I heard was not two wee girls talking and laughing, but a rough male voice and a girl’s cries. My heart rose to my throat. I knew what I was going to find. I took a deep breath and thrust the door open. There on the bed was Grainne, her arms pinned against the pillow and her dress up around her neck. On top of her was Kevin, his trousers down around his ankles and his white arse bouncing up and down. Grainne thrashed from side to side, crying and whimpering.

  A madness came over me. I took my handbag and swung it at Kevin, savagely beating his bare bottom and legs.

  “You dirty oul’ bastard,” I roared, “get up out of that! Leave the child alone! Get off her now!”

  The metal clasp of my handbag raised red welts on his skin. He rolled off Grainne with a grunt. His eyes were burning. When he stood up I saw his hairy belly and his bulging organ, a dreadful purple color, and I wanted to vomit. Grainne rolled on her side, pulled her knees up to her chin, and began sobbing. Kevin pulled up his pants and fastened his belt. His face was red and his breathing heavy. Without warning he drew out and walloped me across the face with the back of his hand. I reeled backwards from the blow, staggering against the wall.

  “What in the name of God…?”

  Kevin and I swung around, and there stood Aunt Kate and Ma in the open doorway. Ma’s eyes were the size of buckets and Kate’s face was like chalk as she blessed herself.

  “Come out of there, the two of you,” she commanded, then turned and went back into the parlor along with Ma.

  I steadied myself and Kevin pushed me ahead of him. “Say a word and you’re done for,” he snarled in my ear.

  I could smell the drink on his breath.

  When we reached the parlor Ma stood by the fireplace literally wringing her hands while Kate stood stiff as a statue.

  “That bloody wee whore in there tried to make out I was interfering with her, and this one took
her word for it and started beating me black and blue!” said Kevin.

  “You were more than interfering with her,” I yelled. “You were bloody raping her so you were!”

  Ma put her hands to her mouth.

  “Did you see him in the act?” said Kate sharply.

  “He was on top of her with his trousers down round his ankles,” I said. “What would you say he was doing?”

  “She’s a liar,” roared Kevin, “a vicious liar. It was the girl called me in to help her with something and when I got there she was lying on the bed with her dress up and her legs spread out just asking for it. I was bending over her to tell her to make herself decent when this one came in and started screaming at me like a banshee.”

  “He’s the one lying,” I yelled. “He’s been after me for the same thing these years but he never got the chance. Now he’s forcing himself on the child—”

  “She’s no child,” interrupted Kevin. “She’s a whore just like her ma.”

  Ma let out a whimper. “Oh please, Sheila, stop it. We don’t want any trouble.”

  I swung around to face her. “I’m telling the truth, Ma.”

  We fell silent, as Kate looked around from one to the other. Then her eyes fixed on me. “I’ll not have you telling these lies about my husband, miss. From everything I hear about you, you have that kind of thing on the brain. Sex crazy, that’s what the women at church say about you. It’s a wonder you haven’t tried to seduce my husband before now, but the other one beat you to it.” She stopped and laughed—an ugly snorting sound. “Maybe you were jealous when you saw… when you saw what you thought you saw. Go on now, leave us alone. We have some decisions to make about this matter. Go on now.”

  I was dismissed. Why did I even think it would be any different? Of course Kate wouldn’t believe my side of the story. And even though I knew Ma believed me, she wasn’t going to back me up. She was afraid we’d get thrown out. I turned around and strode back into the granny room, shaking with anger and resentment.

  “I’m sorry,” whispered Grainne.

  “What are you sorry for? It’s himself out there should be sorry.”

  “I didn’t mean to cause you trouble. Anyway, maybe I deserved it.”

  “Shut up, Grainne. Nobody deserves that.”

  “Maybe I led him on without realizing it,” said Grainne, sitting up and leaning against the pillow. “More than one man told Ma that back on Amelia Street. Maybe I’m a bad seed. That’s what Ma always said.”

  “Jesus, will you listen to yourself? The man’s a brute. He’s been trying to interfere with me ever since I came to live in this house—but he never got the chance beyond putting his dirty paws all over me and slobbering in my face in the dark.”

  Grainne put her head down and whispered almost to herself. “It’s not the first time he’s done it.”

  “Och, Jesus.”

  “Aye, always on Sundays when everybody else is gone. I try to sneak out but he’s always waiting for me. So I stopped trying—I was afraid he’d send me back. I don’t want to go back.”

  Grainne began to sob. I reached over and hugged her. “It’s all right, love. Nobody’s making you go back.”

  “They will. They will now. Nobody will believe me… except you.”

  There was an uneasy silence in the house for the next week. Hardly anyone spoke a word. It was as if nothing had ever happened, and yet at the same time as if everything had changed. Ma and I went back up to the mill every day, Grainne went to school, Kevin went to work, and Kate went about her business with a face on her as stony as the granite in the nearby quarry. We ate our meals in silence. Once in a while Ma would mention something about the mill, or inquire after some old woman whom they visited on Kate’s charity rounds. Kate always made some short but polite answer. Nobody looked at anyone else. Grainne was as sullen as I’d ever seen her. Her eyes were ringed in red from crying. My heart went out to her before I could stop it. Kevin made himself scarce every night, away down to the pub as soon as he had his tea finished. What he and Kate had to say to each other in the privacy of their upstairs bedroom, I didn’t want to know. It was a quiet house, as I waited for the other shoe to drop.

  Kate put us out of our suspense the next Saturday afternoon. Ma and I had come home from our usual overtime shift. I was working all the hours I could get and then I was going off out—anything but stay in that house for any longer than I had to. I was about to go into my room to get changed when Kate stopped me.

  “Sheila, I need to talk to you and your mother.”

  Kate’s voice was firm. I swung around and stood rooted to the floor. I saw Ma out of the corner of my eye. She had just sat down, and she jumped up again. She was shaking. I knew she was afraid we would be thrown out of the house. I thought she was probably right. I had told Ma I didn’t think it would be so awful. We could always get a wee house down in Newry—something cheap enough that we could manage on both our wages. I hadn’t stopped to think what would happen to her when I eventually left. She was quick to remind me, of course, so I stopped talking about it. Now, I waited for Kate’s decision.

  “Kevin and I have talked over the situation,” she said.

  Kevin was nowhere to be seen. He had obviously left Kate to do the dirty work. And Grainne was on a rare school outing for the afternoon. I thought she should have been present to hear the verdict. But, as it was, it was just the three of us.

  “We’ve talked it over,” Kate said again, “and the decision has not been an easy one.”

  I heard Ma suck in her breath. Kate stood tall and straight. Her face was drawn, and her lips pale. I wondered how much of Kevin’s story she believed. Surely she must have seen him for the blackguard that he was. But he was her husband, and she could see by my ma and other women like her that Northern Ireland was a cold place for an older woman on her own. She wouldn’t be the first woman to turn a blind eye to the doings of the bastard she was married to.

  “Our first thought was that it would be better if you all left this house.”

  Ma let out a little whimper.

  “But, I am a Christian woman, and I would not see your mother out on the street. She has no one to depend on really besides Kevin and me.”

  She looked pointedly at me when she said this. I bit my tongue.

  “So we have agreed that if you will make an apology to my husband for your terrible accusation against him, and of course go to confession and tell the priest how you have lied, then we are prepared to have you and your mother stay on.” She paused and pursed her lips. “The girl will have to go, of course.”

  There was silence. Ma blessed herself and then she looked over at me. Her eyes were huge. I knew she wanted me to agree there and then, but I could get no words out. I couldn’t even think. Kate’s words buzzed around me like summer wasps. I tried to take in what she was saying. Ma could stay; well, that was a relief. But apologize? I’d burn in hell before I’d do that. And Grainne? My God, they would send the child back to the hell she had only just come out of? It was all too much for me to take in at once. Part of me wanted to scream at Kate and part of me wanted to shrug and walk away.

  “I see you want to take your time. Kevin was right. He said you’re a stubborn girl. And while any good daughter would not upset her mother by refusing to do the right thing immediately, I will give you until Sunday night to make your decision.”

  “Sheila, love?” Ma looked at me with wide eyes.

  I ignored her. “I’m going to change my clothes now,” I said. “Then I’ll be going out again. I’ll be away again tomorrow while youse are at Mass. But I will be back tomorrow night.”

  They said nothing as I went to my room and quickly changed my clothes. I was shaking as I did so. My stomach tumbled over and over. I thought I might vomit. But I put on a bright smile as I walked back through the parlor and opened the front door.

  “Cheerio, then,” I said.

  Neither of them answered me.

  I ran down the hill t
o the tram station, my mind in turmoil. I didn’t know what to think about first. I could make things all right for Ma and myself by apologizing to the dirty bastard, Kevin, and having done with it. And what I told Father Flynn in confession was none of their fecking business. Things would go on as before. It wouldn’t be that hard. Kevin knew I despised him, and words were not going to change that. And Kate knew he was lying, and my words were not going to change that either. No, it was not just the apology that was eating at me. It was Grainne. Whether I apologized or not, Grainne would not be let stay. Where would she go? I doubted that anyone else in the village would take her in—she had a reputation as trouble at school, and her bad attitude had pushed people away from her. At fourteen, she hardly even qualified as an evacuee anymore. She was no longer a child to be protected. She would be sent back to Belfast and that would be the end of it. And the end of her.

  I was deep in thought as I pushed in through the door of the Ceili House pub. It was still early on Saturday evening, and there were few people in the place. I was glad. I was in no mood to be talking to anybody. I ordered a shandy and sat down at a table in a dark corner.

  “I was hoping to find you here.”

  My head shot up at the sound of the familiar voice. Joel’s smiling face hovered above me. I broke into a smile.

  “You’re back?”

  “In the flesh. I haven’t even been to the base yet. I almost went up to your house but I thought I’d stop here first just in case.” He grinned. “You see, I’m getting to know all your habits, young lady.”

  “Not all of them, I hope,” I said.

  He kissed me lightly on the cheek and sat down opposite me, stretching his long legs out towards the fireplace. He looked well, but tired. He called the barman over and ordered a beer.

  “How was England?”

  His grin faded. “All right, I suppose.”

  “What are youse doing over there? Planning an invasion?”

  I didn’t know what made me say it. I suppose I must have heard some talk somewhere about how the Allies would have to plan something big soon to get a grip on the war.

 

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