“Will you for the love of Mike come over to the poke and we’ll hobble something together. You’re like the handle of a bloody shovel,” Shiner said as they walked across the yard into the small kitchen where, after the bright light outside, he blinked in the semi-darkness. Shiner already had the kettle on over the fire, and now he opened a paper bag and produced brown bread and a lump of cooked meat.
“You must be bloody starving,” he asserted.
“Your mother is great,” Danny told him appreciatively, “but Bill and myself always have a good spread in the middle of the day.”
“But you know, Danny boy, that Bill has a proper dinner in the evening, whereas you’re floating around on a wing and a prayer,” Shiner proclaimed from what Danny knew was an extract from a sermon that he had got from his mother. Ellen Shine was into good eating, and Shiner’s solid frame was evidence of it.
“Any news?” he asked to distract Shiner from his eating crusade.
“Oh boy, but there are big things about to happen in Kilmeen,” Shiner declared excitedly.
“Like what?” Danny asked, scalding the teapot and shooting the rinsing out the door.
“If you ever get into that big house,” Shiner told him, viewing the stream of water out the door, “you will have to improve your kitchen manners.”
“That day is getting farther and farther away,” Danny told him, thinking of the letter, “but let’s have your news first.”
“Well, we had the Yank for supper across the river the other night, and guess what? He is turning the school into a hotel for the Queen Bee to manage,” Shiner told him with relish.
“Martha Phelan?”
“The one and only.”
“And what about the school?” Danny asked.
“New school!” Shiner announced with glee. “The power of money works miracles.”
“Who’re you telling?” Danny said sourly.
“What’s wrong with you this evening?” Shiner demanded.
“Bloody Rory,” he told him, fishing the letter out of his pocket. Shiner scanned it quickly.
“He’s some bastard,” he declared, but Danny wanted to find out about the school.
“Tell me more about the plans of the Yank.”
“Well, apparently he’s looking for a site for this big scheme which will incorporate playing fields for both boys and girls, and if our Nora will have her way even a small theatre.”
“By God, but that’s going to be a huge layout,” Danny declared. He wondered if Jack could be right when he said that worries were sometimes overcome by events. An idea was germinating at the back of his mind. He tried to control his rising excitement as he asked, “Where is all this going to be?”
“No site yet,” Shiner told him, “but the Yank have the big guns on the lookout for him.”
“That’s Fr Tim, David and Kate?” Danny qualified, wanting to know exactly where things stood.
“Who else?” Shiner assured him. He felt his little glow of hope grow stronger, but he was almost afraid to articulate it in case that if he put it into words it would dissolve.
“What are you hatching?” Shiner demanded, frowning at him across the table. “You look like a fellow who has got a peep into heaven and is afraid that he might have the gate banged in his face.”
“Exactly,” Danny told him, amazed that Shiner had hit the nail so accurately on the head.
“Do you want to spit it out?” Shiner wanted to know.
“This idea that I have could solve this,” he told Shiner, tapping Rory’s letter on the table.
“How the hell?” Shiner asked in a perplexed voice.
“If the Yank bought my two fields outside the village,” Danny told him slowly.
A look of amazement flooded Shiner’s face, and for once he was speechless as Danny continued, “My problem is that I don’t have the title to those fields to sell them. Fr Tim has already tried to crack that and failed because we had no cash to buy out Rory. But now if the Yank came up trumps, we might be able to get out of that corner.”
“You’re on a winner, Danny boy! You’re out of the trap!” Shiner declared, throwing his cap in the air and thumping the table with his fist. “That’s the ideal site. It’s perfect! When you think about it, there is nowhere else better around the village.”
“Do you think so?” Danny asked desperately.
“No doubt about it,” Shiner told him delightedly, “and what you got to remember now, Danny, is to ask enough because you are holding all the aces. There is nowhere else as good as your two fields. So ask enough.”
“What about the title?” Danny wondered.
“Fr Tim and Kate will sort that out with the Yank for you. It’s all about knowing the right people,” Shiner told him in an elated voice. “As well as the aces, Danny boy, you have the jokers as well. Now don’t breathe a word about this sale to anyone, because when you are buying or selling land it’s best to keep your mind to yourself. God, wouldn’t Jack be thrilled with this?”
“He used to say that worries are sometimes overcome by events,” Danny told him.
“He could be bloody right,” Shiner declared.
The following morning when Fr Tim opened his front door, Danny was outside.
“Good God, Danny! What has you here so early?” Fr Tim asked in amazement. “Come in, come in.” He led the way into the kitchen where the smell of fresh toast told Danny that he was preparing his breakfast. He put a second cup on the table and put on more toast, saying, “You must have something big on your mind to drag you away from your cows before milking.”
“I’ve got an idea,” Danny told him breathlessly, his chest tight with excitement. If this came off, he was out of the trap, as Shiner had said. He told Fr Tim slowly about his plan and watched with growing confidence as the priest’s face lit up with enthusiasm.
“That’s the answer to all our problems,” Fr Tim declared.
“What about the title?” he asked worriedly.
“Kate and I will tackle Rodney Jackson on that one, and I can’t see any difficulty. It’s the perfect site, so it’s to his advantage to acquire it. Only means paying earlier rather than later, and that should be no problem to him,” Fr Tim said positively. “As soon as we have news, I’ll be back to you. Does Dad know?”
“Not yet. It was late last night that Shiner told me about the school, and that put me thinking.”
“That was good thinking,” Fr Tim smiled and asked, “and you don’t mind parting with the two fields?”
“Not with those two,” he told him, “because they are not actually part of the main farm. More like an outside farm that’s too small, and working them is a bit awkward. They are the two that my grandfather bought instead of paying back old man Phelan. They were the start of all the trouble.”
“Well, maybe they’ll put an end to it now,” Fr Tim smiled.
All day he watched the gate waiting for Fr Tim’s car to whirl in, but nothing happened. Bill assured him that it might take a few days to run down Rodney Jackson, but Danny knew that he was trying to ease his worry. Fr Tim was not one to hang around and would get it sorted out pretty fast. That evening after the cows he wanted to be close at hand, so he began to clean the front steps. A little later he was relieved when he heard a car stop at the gate, and then through the draping tendrils of the weeping willows he could see Fr Tim and Kate come along the drive. He held his breath, wondering if the news was good, and Kate, sensing his apprehension, called out to him, “Rodney will advance you the money to pay off Rory first.”
He felt unrestrained joy sweep over him and high-jumped around in sheer abandonment and danced with uncontrolled exuberance up and down the steps.
“Light at the end of the tunnel,” he shouted, and to Fr Tim’s and Kate’s amusement was off again, dancing up and down the steps shouting, “Isn’t this great! Isn’t this great!”
Finally he ran out of steam and collapsed on the steps gasping.
“Now I’ll be able to get ri
d of Rory. Oh, the relief of that, and if there is anything extra I will buy a tractor. I need one badly to reclaim the farm.”
“What about the house?” Kate asked.
“Kate, the last time that things went wrong here, my grandfather let the farm run down and then the house was sacrificed, so I don’t want history to repeat itself,” he told her. “But once I have the land signed over, I’ll feel safe and then things will gradually sort themselves out.”
“You deserve it, Danny, because you have swum against the tide long enough. Now the tide is turning.”
“It began to turn the day you said that Jack would help me,” he told her appreciatively, “and, Fr Tim, your father has turned this place around.”
“It’s beginning to look great,” Kate said, looking down at the cleared garden and the delicate iron tracery of the entrance gate. “That’s a beautiful gate.”
“Bill spent hours of grinding and cleaning to get it swinging smoothly and closing properly. Now it fits perfectly,” he said proudly.
“My father is in his element here,” Fr Tim smiled, “bringing the place back to life.”
“He is doing the same for me,” Danny told him quietly.
They chatted for a long time and then toured the house. It was Kate’s first time seeing it, and he was delighted with her reaction. Every time he walked around the house now he felt a glow of pride. Before leaving they told him that Rodney Jackson would be with him early in the morning to go to the bank and the solicitor.
That night he filled the old tin bath with water and had a good scrub-down in front of the fire. As he towel-dried his hair, he viewed himself in the cracked mirror behind the door. His hair was like the rusty roof of the barn, and he tried to comb it as flat as possible. He had inherited Nana Molly’s mop, and now he saw images of her in the mirror. His father had always hated his Barry features. He opened a press by the fire and took out the jumper that Mary had given him for Christmas. It was dark green handwoven, and he had never worn it, feeling that it was a bit too good. But tomorrow he would need to look well.
Rodney Jackson swept into the yard in a car that caused Danny to gasp in amazement. It was like an enormous blue bird with sleek silver wings, and out of it came the long-legged, tanned American whom up to now Danny had only seen in the distance.
“I’m Rodney Jackson,” he smiled, striding across the yard and showing a row of the most perfect white teeth that Danny had ever seen. “You must be Danny, and I’m so glad to meet you.” Long smooth fingers grasped his hand and, looking around in delight, the American enthused, “What a place you’ve got here; this is the real Old World.”
“Would you like to see inside?” Danny heard himself stammer, swept away by this wave of exuberance.
“Would I what?” Rodney asked, and he led him up the steps and around the house. I’m a bit like a tour guide, Danny thought as the enthralled American followed him around. When they reached the room with the picture of Nana Molly, he stood in front of it and for the first time was silent.
“So this is the famous Molly Barry,” he said thoughtfully after a few minutes.
“You’ve heard of her?” Danny asked in surprise.
“My aunts often talked of her. They said that she was quite a beauty, and they were right.” Turning to Danny he told him to his embarrassment, “I can see the family resemblance,” and then he swept on, “so I’m glad to be doing business with one of the descendants of a woman of whom my aunts had such a high opinion. Now we had best get ourselves sorted out before we go to the bank and Mr Hobbs. How much are we talking about for those two fields?” He turned around and stood with Molly Barry looking over his shoulder.
Danny was stunned that things were moving so fast. He was glad that last night he had worked things out in his head and knew exactly what he wanted, but Rodney was not waiting for an answer, and looking him straight in the eye, told him, “I looked at those two fields this morning, and I was thinking that six hundred pounds would be a fair price, three hundred each.”
“Eight hundred,” Danny told him firmly, and when Rodney looked a bit taken back he added, “They are good fields and in a great location, and as well as that I need five hundred to buy out my brother Rory and three to buy a tractor.”
“That’s what I call a fair deal,” Rodney declared to his amazement and put out his hand to shake Danny’s warmly.
He could hardly believe that the deal about which he had done such deliberating was brought to such a fast conclusion, and without further ado Rodney Jackson announced, “Straight to the bank now and I’ll transfer that money into your account.”
Things were moving faster than Danny had ever thought possible. Rodney Jackson whipped the car around the yard and out the gate, and Danny arrived in Ross in less time than it would have taken him to walk to the village. Rodney strode into the bank where a surprised Mr Harvey found himself opening an account and depositing money for the young man who had come in months earlier in a torn jumper and smelling of farmyard. The blonde girl raised a quizzical eyebrow at Danny as he passed her cubicle and smiled.
“Will there be a return of the Vikings?” she asked, and he was glad that she seemed so pleased to see him.
Their next visit was to Mr Hobbs, whose firm had handled the family affairs since Nana Molly’s time and who seemed well versed in all that needed to be done. He assured Rodney that he would get things sorted out as fast as possible. For the first time in his life, Danny wrote a cheque. It was a strange feeling to know that this piece of paper was the first step on his way to owning Furze Hill. He began to see that when you had money and the assurance of authority, people moved faster. He remembered Nana Molly’s words about the arsehole of the world, but now he was discovering that the opposite was also true. Nana had come from the world that he was only now discovering. Mr Hobbs went to great pains to explain all the details of what was involved in the signing over, causing Danny to worry about the time span and the return of Rory.
“Will all this take long?” he asked.
“Not if you brother needs the money,” Mr Hobbs told him. “He’s the only one who can hold things up, because all the others have already signed.”
“Oh, he needs the money,” Danny assured him, but then because he had an uneasy feeling that this old man did not understand what he was up against in Rory, he added, “but he will try to get the money and still keep his claim.”
Mr Hobbs, who up to then had looked quite harmless, suddenly straightened up behind his cluttered desk and fixed piercing blue eyes on Danny and told him in acid tones, “Young man, I have handled your family business since your grandmother’s time, so I know all that there is to be known about the two sides of that family. Rest assured that there will be no loophole. Is there anything else?”
“When the farm is being transferred over,” he began tentatively, hoping that he was not going to draw further disapproval, “I’d like my mother’s name to go on the deeds with mine.”
Whereupon Mr Hobbs suddenly smiled benignly on him.
“Very well, but I will put in a rider that her claim reverts to you on her death. Things change, you know, and it is always better to have things in writing for long-term protection of rights. We don’t want any loopholes. Is there anything else now?”
“There is,” Danny told him, gathering confidence. “Would it be possible to have my name on the deeds as Daniel Barry Conway?”
“Anything is possible, young man. It will mean getting your name changed by deed poll, but that is no big problem. Then the Barry name will be on the way back to Furze Hill,” a pleased Mr Hobbs told him. Looking keenly at Danny over his rimless spectacles, he added thoughtfully, “‘Though the mills of God grind slowly, yet they grind exceeding small.’”
When he got home, Danny joined Bill sitting on the front steps to discuss the happenings of the morning.
“It’s a great feeling, Bill,” he confided with delight, “to be breaking free of the fetters of Rory.”
“That was a nice thing to do to put your mother’s name on the deeds,” Bill told him.
“She worked like a slave here for years,” Danny said, “and she had a terrible life. My father humiliated her in every way he could. Now I want to give her a sense of dignity and ownership.”
“Does she know anything about the opening up of all this place?” Bill asked, looking around.
“Nothing, because I want it to be a big surprise for herself and the girls,” he smiled.
“It’s going to be some surprise,” Bill asserted.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
AS SHE PASSED Jack’s cottage on her way to school, Nora felt the raw pain reawaken. For her the cottage had died with Jack. Even though Sarah lit the fire every day and fed Toby and the fowl, it was now a dead place. She had not gone in there since the funeral, because the pain of even seeing it was almost unbearable. Kate went in every day. How could Kate bear to do that? She was very disappointed that Kate had not helped her more over the loss of Jack instead of becoming totally wrapped up in her own misery. She had pretended not to mind, but for the first time she began to think that Kate was self-centred. The invitation to Rodney Jackson’s dinner had been the first time that Kate had reached out a helping hand, and, of course, the good news that night had made them all feel better. She was so delighted for Uncle David, who was much more understanding of how she was feeling than Kate.
Rosie was waiting out at the gate, which meant that she had news or wanted to know something and, as usual, went straight to the point.
“Nora Phelan, what were Fr Brady and your Uncle David doing waltzing around the Conway fields with sheets of paper hanging off them?” she demanded.
“No idea,” Nora lied.
“That’s a lie, Nora Phelan,” Rosie declared.
“But you can’t keep a secret,” Nora protested.
“I can,” Rosie boasted, “because I’ve a secret that I never told you.”
“Like what?” Nora demanded.
Rosie looked at her steadily for a few seconds, determining whether to tell her or hold back, but her urge to share got the better of her and she burst out, “Peter and I meet in Jack’s cottage at night.”
House of Memories Page 19
