The Little Orphan Girl

by Sandy Taylor

‘What do you want, Granddaddy? What do you want?’

  He was struggling to get the words out. ‘To know,’ he said.

  ‘What do you want to know?’

  He shook his head and gripped my hand tighter, he was getting agitated.

  ‘Try again,'’I said, gently.

  ‘To go,’ he said.

  ‘Home? Do you want to go home?’

  He closed his eyes again. ‘No,’ he said softly.

  I looked at this dear man whom I had grown to love so much and my heart felt as if it was breaking in two. I knew he couldn’t live forever. I knew that, but I wasn’t ready to say goodbye, not yet, not yet… and then Buddy put his paw on my hand. Tears ran down my cheeks as I looked into Buddy’s deep brown eyes. His love for this old man went far beyond his own needs; he knew it was time and he loved him too much to want him to stay in a world that he’d had enough of.

  I lay my head on my granddaddy’s chest. ‘It’s okay,’ I whispered. ‘You can go now. Me and Mammy and Buddy will be alright. You don’t have to fight any more, just go to sleep. Holy God is waiting for you; he knows you’re a reformed man and I’m sure he’s forgiven you all your sins. Your poor wife might give you a bit of a hard time but she knows you’re sorry for being such a bad husband and I’m sure that once you’re sat together on a nice white cloud, you can sort things out.’ I kissed his old face. ‘I love you, Granddaddy, and I’ll miss you something terrible but I’ll carry you in my heart wherever I go and I won’t ever forget you. Go to sleep now, go to sleep.’

  I sat beside him listening to his chest rising and falling until he gave one last breath and left me.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Granddaddy had lain in the cottage overnight. Neighbours had come in to say goodbye to him and Buddy hadn’t left his side. Just before the lid of the coffin was closed, I picked his old blanket off the chair and tucked it around him.

  ‘To keep him warm,’ I said.

  Mammy smiled and nodded.

  All our neighbours in Paradise Alley walked behind the coffin as Colm and Blue made their way slowly through the town. Colm had tied a black ribbon around Blue’s neck. Other people joined us as we headed for the church.

  I was surprised to see Mr and Mrs Bretton and Peter standing at the entrance as we pulled up. Colm, his father, Mr Collins and Mr Tully from the alley carried the coffin into the church on their shoulders and placed it in front of the altar. Me and Mammy and Buddy walked slowly behind.

  The church was packed, but that was what the town was like. Mammy said you could always be sure of a good send-off in Ballybun. As we followed the coffin down the centre aisle of the church I spotted Mary and Mrs Foley sitting together. Mary smiled sadly as we passed.

  I held Mammy's hand as we sat side by side in the pew. It hurt to look at the coffin, I couldn’t bear to think of my granddaddy in that box. As Father Kelly sprinkled holy water over it, a ray of light streamed through the stained-glass window above the gold crucifix. That kind of made it feel special, as if the granddaddy was some sort of saint even though I knew he wasn’t.

  Father Kelly stood in front of the altar and smiled down at me and Mammy.

  ‘We have come here today to say goodbye to our friend, Malachi Ryan,’ he began. ‘A good man, at times a stubborn man, but a man who recognised his failings and atoned for them. In his last few years his greatest joy has been his family: his daughter Moira, his granddaughter Cissy and his little dog Buddy. He was, in his own way, a man of God, even if he liked to protest that he wasn’t. But God knows Malachi Ryan for he has looked into his heart and seen goodness there. So let us kneel and pray for his soul, knowing that he is now in the arms of the Lord for all eternity and that his sins have been forgiven.’

  The Mass seemed endless and I was relieved when Father Kelly said, ‘Ite missa est.’ Go in peace, the Mass has ended.

  It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining and there was a warm breeze lifting the fallen leaves and scattering them among the graves, giving colour to the stark grey headstones and the old Celtic crosses. Father Kelly prayed for my granddaddy’s soul as he was lowered slowly into the ground. It felt as if part of me was going down with him. I was glad I’d tucked his old blanket around him to keep him warm.

  Eventually, people started to move away, heading back to their families and their lives. They chatted to each other as they walked across the grass. Nothing had changed for them; they had shared in the grief of losing an old man who was not their own. They had been good neighbours, they had done their duty.

  Mary and Mrs Foley came and stood beside us.

  Mary bent down and stroked Buddy. ‘I’m sorry about your granddaddy,’ she said.

  ‘I’ll miss him, I surely will. Thank you for coming, Mary.’

  ‘We have to go now,’ said Mrs Foley.

  ‘It was good of you to come, Kate,’ said Mammy, putting her arms around her.

  Mrs Foley nodded. ‘Take care, Moira,’ she said.

  I watched them walking across the grass. Mary turned back and waved.

  Mammy touched my shoulder. ‘We should go,’ she said. I didn’t want to go. Buddy cried and pawed at my leg, he didn’t want to go either. Father Kelly walked over to us.

  ‘How can I leave him all alone under the ground, Father?’ I said.

  ‘Sure, he’s long gone, Cissy, that’s just an old body down there. Malachi Ryan is in a far better place than you or I and I’d say he’s running around like a young feller up there and having a grand old time.’

  ‘Is he, Father?’

  ‘You can depend on it.’

  It made me feel better to think of him running around on two good legs and when Colm came across, I held his hand and we walked towards the gates. The Brettons’ car was behind Colm’s cart.

  ‘Thank you for coming,’ said Mammy.

  ‘We are sorry for your loss,’ said Mr Bretton, tipping his hat.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said.

  Peter was leaning against the big shiny car, glaring at me. I didn’t know why, and then I realised I was still holding Colm’s hand. Well, Peter was just going to have to put up with it, wasn’t he, because Colm was as close to me as if he was my brother and he had always been there for me. I held his hand even tighter. This day wasn’t about Peter Bretton, this day was about saying goodbye to my granddaddy and being with those I loved. Did that mean it wasn’t love that I felt for Peter? Well, maybe it wasn’t, maybe I was learning the true meaning of love. Maybe it wasn’t about secret meetings and poetry books, maybe it was about loyalty and being there through the good times and the bad, and maybe it was about caring for someone more than you cared for yourself. I was beginning to think that Peter Bretton wasn’t able to do that.

  I was dreading going back to the cottage and I knew that Mammy was feeling the same way. Colm must have known.

  ‘My father has put on a bit of a spread up at the house,’ he said, ‘if you’d like to come up?’

  Mammy looked relieved. ‘We would,’ she said, ‘and thank you.’

  ‘That’s grand then,’ said Colm.

  It was lovely to see so many people in the big kitchen. Since the granddaddy had taken to sitting outside the cottage he had made friends with a lot of his neighbours and they were truly saddened by his passing. It was lovely to hear them speaking kindly of him.

  ‘He was a clever man, your grandfather,’ said Mr Tully. ‘He might not have had an education but he had a fine brain. I’d say there wasn’t much that he didn’t know.’

  It made me feel proud to know that my granddaddy was so well thought of.

  I looked across the room. Mr Collins was sitting next to Mammy, his hand resting on her arm. I was glad that he was here to give her comfort for I could see her smiling as they spoke quietly together. I remembered him telling me that she’d been the prettiest girl in town when she was young. Well, she was still pretty. I hoped that maybe she could find some happiness after being alone for so long. If anyone deserved to be happy, it wa
s my mammy.

  It was lovely to see so many people paying their respects but the room felt stuffy and I felt the need to get away. I was finding it hard to breathe and I pulled at the collar of my dress.

  Colm noticed. ‘Would you like to take a bit of a walk, Cissy?’ he said.

  I nodded. ‘I would.’ I told Mammy that I would see her back at the cottage and I called Buddy.

  We walked down Paradise Alley and out towards the wood road. Buddy ran ahead of us, snuffling in the hedgerows and rolling in the leaves that had piled up under the trees.

  ‘He’s going to miss Granddaddy,’ I said, watching the little dog. ‘Especially when Mammy’s at work and he’s alone in the cottage.’

  ‘How about I take him on the milk round and keep him up at the house until your mam gets home?’

  ‘Would you?’

  ‘Of course I would. I’d say old Blue would be glad of the company.’

  We walked side by side along the path that led through the woods.

  Once we got to the clearing we sat down on the big old log that had been there for as long as I could remember. Colm put his arm around my shoulder and we sat together, not speaking. It had always been that way with me and Colm, we didn’t always need to talk. Peter was different, he seemed to want to talk all the time.

  Colm was my home, my safe place. But Peter? There was nothing safe about him. Was that why he made me feel so alive? So full of excitement for something I knew I could never have?

  I lay my head on Colm’s shoulder and looked up at the perfectly blue cloudless sky above the trees. Tell me what to do, Granddaddy.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  It had been almost a year since we’d buried my granddaddy and the pain I thought would never leave me had eased. I could think of him now and smile. Colm and Mr Collins had whitewashed the inside of the cottage and Mammy had finally parted with his old chair.

  ‘Do you mind, Cissy?’

  ‘It’s just a chair,’ I’d said. ‘He won’t be needing it any more.’

  ‘I thought you might be upset.’

  I shook my head. ‘I don’t need to see an old chair to remember him.’

  ‘And I don’t need the smell of it,’ she said, laughing.

  I didn’t worry about her being alone in the cottage because she had Mr Collins and I didn’t worry about Buddy because he spent most of his time with Colm these days.

  Peter was now at Trinity College in Dublin. We still met whenever he was home. One evening we were sitting down on the rocks.

  ‘What do you want to do once you’ve finished your schooling?’ I said.

  ‘I’m studying law, Cissy. I like the idea of putting some lowlife behind bars. I think it would give me a great deal of satisfaction knowing I had helped get some rogue off the streets.’

  ‘But how can you be sure they’re guilty? Wouldn’t you be scared of making a mistake?’

  ‘Not my problem. It’s winning that matters, I wouldn’t be losing any sleep over it.’

  ‘That doesn’t sound very kind, Peter,’ I said.

  He laughed. ‘You people are all heart.’

  ‘What do you mean, “you people”?’

  ‘Well, you Catholics with your confessional boxes and talk of forgiveness. It seems to me that as long as you go into a wooden box on a Saturday night and say you’re sorry for your sins, you can do any damn thing you like for the rest of the week.’

  I stood up and walked away from him and looked out over the water. I suppose he was right, I had grown up to believe in a merciful God, but on his lips the words sounded mean and unkind, as if he was making fun of me.

  ‘Well, it’s true, isn’t it? Isn’t that what you do?’ said Peter, joining me.

  ‘I’m one of those people you’re looking down on, Peter. It makes me wonder why you want to spend time with me at all.’

  He held me away from him and put on his ‘poor me’ face. It was supposed to make me laugh and it usually did, but today I didn’t feel like laughing.

  ‘Forgive me, little Cissy,’ he said. ‘I’ve hurt your sensitive little heart, haven’t I? Don’t be cross with me or I shall throw myself into the sea.’

  I liked Peter and I disliked him in equal measures but even when I disliked him, I was drawn to him by some force I couldn’t resist. Colm didn’t have the same effect on me, even though in my heart I knew he was the better man.

  We kissed and went our separate ways so that we didn’t arrive back at the Hall together. I watched him walking up the path and felt again the pain of separation I had every time we parted. I got this awful feeling of loss as if I was never going to see him again, as if the hole he left inside me could never be filled by anyone but him.

  It was almost Christmas and this year was going to be even more exciting than usual. Caroline was home for good and there was to be a grand coming out ball to celebrate her getting finished off in Switzerland.

  ‘God forgive me but there are times when I wish someone would finish her off permanently,’ said Bridie, as we polished and cleaned the drawing room.

  ‘Why do good things happen to bad people?’ I said.

  Bridie was rubbing away at a smear on one of the beautiful mirrors. She stood back to see if she’d removed it. ‘When you’ve got money I suppose you don’t have to worry about being good.’

  ‘But it doesn’t seem to have affected Master Peter.’

  ‘I wouldn’t be so sure about that, Cissy. I’ve noticed that he’s got a few airs and graces these days. He’s not the sweet boy he was.’

  ‘Oh he is, Bridie!’

  Bridie stopped polishing. ‘Are you sure you’re not blinded by love, Cissy?’

  ‘Don’t be silly. We’re just friendly and he’s always been kind to me.’

  ‘Sometimes we can’t see what’s under our noses and I’d say your nose is blocked at the moment.’

  I didn’t answer her.

  ‘I’ve seen you together, Cissy, and if I’ve seen you, then others will have seen you too.’

  ‘That’s just gossip, you know how people gossip.’

  ‘I’m not talking about folk who gossip, I’m talking about your friends who worry about you.’

  I wasn’t exactly lying to the people who cared about me but I wasn’t exactly telling them the truth either and I felt guilty and ashamed. My friends deserved better but I had to keep this a secret, because if I didn’t, it would surely put an end to our meetings and I couldn’t bear the thought of that. ‘Please don’t worry about me, Bridie,’ I said. ‘I’m too canny to be taken in by the likes of Master Peter.’

  ‘I’m pleased to hear it, Cissy.’

  But I wasn’t, was I? I wasn’t canny at all where he was concerned and now several people had noticed our closeness. I knew that I would be dismissed if it reached the ears of the Brettons. I had to stop seeing him if I wasn’t to bring shame on my mother. I had to tell him before it was too late. I’d known this friendship, or whatever it was, couldn’t last. I’d tell him when he was home for Christmas. I would. I’d tell him.

  ‘And will they be eating English potatoes this year?’ asked Colm, as we walked through the woods, collecting holly to decorate the cottage.

  I laughed. ‘I haven’t a clue and I don’t much care.’

  ‘Listen to you, Cissy Ryan, are you not in awe of the Brettons anymore?’

  ‘Don’t make fun of me, Colm.’

  ‘Sorry,’ he said, handing me a bunch of mistletoe to add to our pile. ‘But you have been a bit obsessed by them.’

  ‘Not any more.’

  ‘And what has brought this on?’

  I shrugged my shoulders: ‘Age,’ I replied.

  ‘Listen to the old woman,’ said Colm.

  I laughed and threw the mistletoe at him.

  He held it over his head. ‘You’re supposed to kiss me under it, not throw it at me,’ he said, grinning.

  I looked fondly at this boy who had always been so kind to me and my family. This boy that I’d asked to wait
for me. I moved towards him and looked into his lovely brown eyes. He smelt sweet and earthy, like the woods we were standing in. I wasn’t a child any more. I wanted him to see me as a woman. Without taking my eyes from his face, I slowly put my arms around his neck. He seemed to hesitate for a moment and then he leaned down and gave me the sweetest kiss. His lips were soft and warm and I felt so safe in his arms. He was solid and he was real. No secrets, no hiding, this was my Colm who I’d known almost all my life.

  He held my face in his hands. ‘Happy Christmas, dearest Cissy,’ he said softly.

  I was trying hard to avoid Peter. It shouldn’t have been too difficult with the amount of work I had to do, but he seemed to appear out of nowhere wherever I happened to be. One morning, I was lighting the fire in his bedroom and Bridie was changing the bedclothes when he came into the room.

  ‘I need to see you, Cissy,’ he whispered urgently.

  I looked across at Bridie. ‘I can’t talk to you here,’ I whispered back. ‘Go away, Peter.’

  ‘Not until you promise to meet me.’

  Bridie was piling the dirty linen on the floor.

  ‘Okay, tonight.’

  ‘Where?’

  I was trying to think of somewhere we wouldn’t be seen. It would be too dark to go down to the beach. ‘Behind the woodshed,’ I said.

  ‘Okay, behind the woodshed,’ he said, touching my arm before leaving the room.

  I could sense Bridie looking at me so I picked up the linen and went downstairs to the laundry room. It wasn’t long before she joined me.

  ‘I know what you’re going to say, Bridie, but I’ve decided to tell him that we can’t carry on meeting.’

  ‘I can’t tell you how happy I am to hear that, Cissy, but don’t be surprised if Master Peter has other ideas on the matter.’

  ‘I can handle him,’ I said, sounding more sure than I felt.

  ‘I hope you can, girl.’

  The day dragged and I kept going over and over in my mind what I was going to say to Peter. I’d planned to tell him that we couldn’t see each other any more at Christmas but this was as good a time as any: I’d tell him tonight.