Trying not to sound alarmed, Elizabeth leaned forward.
‘Hello.’
Her father gave a small cough and swivelled his eyes towards the bedside locker. Elizabeth picked up the plastic sipping cup he was looking at and held it to his mouth. He sucked at the raised hole in the lid three times and then moved away. She put the cup back.
‘Is that better?’ she asked.
Another cough.
‘I’m Elizabeth.’ She was going to add that she was his daughter, but then thought better of it. She didn’t want to give him a shock. Her return to his life shouldn’t end it.
A look of pain took hold of her father’s face and then he spoke. But what had he said? It sounded like ‘gorilla’.
‘I’m sorry. I don’t understand.’
He spoke again. This time a different word. Hill? Heel, maybe?
‘Are you in pain? Will I get a nurse?’
With a great effort he stuck his tongue out and licked his lips before swallowing. His hand tightened its grip on hers.
‘What is it? What do you need?’ Elizabeth hoped that someone might come into the room. She was feeling out of her depth. The look of pain came over his face again. He said something else that Elizabeth couldn’t understand, but then his eyes widened and he moved his other hand to hold hers.
‘Mary!’ The name rang out.
Elizabeth squeezed his hands. This old man had seen her mother in her face!
‘No. I’m not Mary. I’m Elizabeth,’ she tried to explain but Edward wasn’t listening. He just kept repeating ‘Mary!’ over and over again. He seemed distressed.
‘What is it, Edward? Mary isn’t here.’
He threw his head back on the pillow and began to shake violently. Elizabeth didn’t know what to do. He seemed to have gone into a spasm or a fit of some kind. She raced to the door and called out into the corridor.
‘Nurse! Can I get a nurse, please! Please, I need a nurse.’
Around the corner came a plump, dark-haired lady in a nurse’s uniform and behind her the nice ginger-haired boy she had met the day before. They rushed into the room.
‘I don’t know what’s happening. He was fine and then …’
The nurses were gathered around the bed. Gordon, the young one, turned to her. ‘Better go wait in the day room.’ He sounded solemn and firm, so she did as she was told.
It was only when she sat down on one of the high-backed chairs that she realised she was shaking. A girl, surely too young to be a nurse, noticed her and offered her a cup of tea which she gratefully accepted. This couldn’t be how they said goodbye. He had to survive this, whatever ‘this’ was. Had she upset him, or had the convulsions always been going to happen? Trying to steady her hands, she sipped her tea.
After a few minutes, tall, red-haired Gordon appeared. She obviously looked worried, because he smiled to let her know at once that things weren’t as bad as she feared.
‘He’s OK. We gave him a sedative, and the doctor will be out to him soon.’
‘Thank you.’
Gordon sat down beside her. ‘These things look much worse than they are. We see them all the time. I think it’s more upsetting to watch than it is for them.’
Elizabeth nodded doubtfully.
‘I was talking about you last night.’
‘Were you?’
‘It turns out my Aunt Patty went to school with Teddy.’
‘Your aunt went to school with my father?’ It seemed unlikely.
‘Ah, there’s a fierce clatter of them. Twelve kids. My father is the baby, like.’
‘Right.’
‘Anyway, she had the whole story. I couldn’t believe it. The drama. It’s amazing. I mean, we just see these old people sitting in here,’ he indicated the other occupants of the day room, ‘half of them gaga, but you forget they’ve all lived lives. Like, did you know about his brother?’
‘The one that drowned?’
‘Yeah. Wasn’t that fierce sad?’
‘It was, yes.’
‘And then the wife. Was that your mother?’
‘She was, yes.’ Elizabeth was beginning to feel uncomfortable. She wasn’t sure she should be talking about Edward’s life as if it was just idle gossip.
‘Aunt Patty said she probably was. And then the mother to top it all off. Awful.’
Elizabeth was tempted to pretend she knew what Gordon was talking about but her curiosity got the better of her.
‘The mother? What do you mean?’
‘Well, you know. The bad death.’
‘Bad death?’
‘The suicide, like.’
‘Edward’s mother killed herself?’
‘Sorry now, I thought you’d know. According to Aunt Patty, she went out and hung herself from a tree in the orchard. It was poor Teddy found her.’
Elizabeth just stared at him. She didn’t know what to say. This couldn’t be true, could it? Surely someone, old Mrs Lynch, would have told her?
‘I’m not sure that can be …’ she began, but just then Sarah Cahill, carrying a thick pile of files, appeared at the door.
‘Nurse. Are you still on shift?’
Gordon jumped to his feet.
‘Sorry, I was just—’
‘May I borrow you?’ Sarah interrupted him with a tight smile.
‘Of course.’ And the two of them were gone.
Elizabeth thanked the young woman for her tea and stood in the reception area, not sure what she should do. Edward would be sleeping and although she was fairly certain that Aunt Patty had got her wires crossed, she felt she should find out for sure. Mrs Lynch was the obvious person to check with, but if she drove out to Muirinish again she definitely wouldn’t get back to Buncarragh tonight. As she made her way back out towards the car her phone rang. Brian.
‘Hello?’
‘Hello. Where are you?’
‘I’m just leaving Abbey Court.’
‘Great. Are you still on for lunch?’
Elizabeth’s heart sank. She was in no mood for a silly flirty lunch. Her decision was made.
‘I’m really sorry, but I’ve got to head out to Muirinish again to check on something.’
‘Oh.’ He sounded deflated. ‘Well, never mind. I’ve got stuff I should be getting on with anyway.’
‘Thanks.’ She hardly knew this man, why did she feel like a bitch? ‘Nice to meet you.’
‘You too. Thanks for everything. Bye.’
‘Bye.’ She hung up feeling as if she had just dumped someone.
Back in Muirinish, Elizabeth had almost given up waiting for the door to open, when the diminutive grey-haired figure of Mrs Lynch appeared behind the frosted glass. When she saw who her visitor was she did not look thrilled.
‘I promise not to burst into tears!’
Mrs Lynch gave a half-hearted chuckle.
‘Sorry. I think I must have dozed off in the chair. Did you forget something?’
‘No. It was just, well, I wanted to check something with you. It’s probably nothing.’
‘Well, you’d better come in, so. My legs aren’t great for standing. They’re not great for anything to be honest,’ the old woman said as she made her way slowly back into the gloom of the house towards the kitchen.
‘Tea?’ she offered but her tone suggested the answer she was hoping to hear.
‘No, thank you. I’m grand.’
Mrs Lynch retook her seat from that morning. The large black and white cat didn’t look as if it was going anywhere on this visit so Elizabeth sat down beside it.
‘So, what can I do for you?’ Mrs Lynch put her hands on the table with the air of a professional. Elizabeth was reminded of a bank manager or head teacher.
‘It’s probably a misunderstanding, but I just wanted to check: somebody told me, Edward’s mother, she, well, she didn’t take her own life, did she?’
The expression on the old lady’s face was the only answer Elizabeth needed. Before Mrs Lynch could speak, she demanded, ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’<
br />
One of the old woman’s hands was now twisting the small gold chain around her neck. ‘You were so upset. I was going to tell you but then I just thought it would be too much for you.’
Still slightly indignant, Elizabeth could nevertheless see her point.
‘It wasn’t as if it mattered really. Not to you. It was just more tragedy to be heaped upon the Foleys.’
Elizabeth thought about poor Edward left all alone at Castle House.
‘When did it happen?’
‘Oh, God. That was a long time ago. I remember it was around the time the second wife went off with you.’
Elizabeth wondered how this news played a part in her story. ‘Did it happen before my mother left? Was it the reason she went away?’
Mrs Lynch shook her head sadly. ‘I’m sorry. I really don’t know. What you have to remember is that I never set eyes on that woman. There were no announcements. I didn’t know she was here. I didn’t know she was gone. Word got around, that’s how things worked. With poor old Mrs Foley, God rest her, it was very different. The guards were here, asking questions around the place, sure everyone knew.’
‘And …’ Elizabeth hesitated, ‘she was found in the orchard?’
Mrs Lynch sucked her teeth. Clearly the details were too much for her. ‘As far as I know, yes. And,’ she continued as if reading Elizabeth’s mind, ‘it was Teddy that found her.’
‘I see.’
‘Have you been in to see him?’
‘I have.’
‘And how is he?’
Elizabeth wasn’t sure what to say. ‘Fine. I mean, he doesn’t seem very …’ Her voice trailed away.
‘I know. Sure, if those were your memories wouldn’t you want to lose them too?’
The cat beside Elizabeth gave an extravagant stretch and began to lick its back paw.
THEN
Two whole days had passed since Patricia had seen Edward. Was he avoiding her? Had the argument she had overheard been the end of his fight to release her? Was his mother making him believe she had decided to stay? Certainly, since she had asked to keep the baby Mrs Foley was treating her differently. She was no longer watching Patricia’s every move; even her bedroom door was sometimes left unlocked. She had come and watched Patricia while she tried to feed Elizabeth a jar of baby food, and helped her wipe up the orange carrot goo as it was unceremoniously spat out. Patricia wanted to escape, she had to, but she also understood that it was now more complicated than that. She couldn’t just wander away barefoot into the night, she had no idea how far her weakened body could manage, and why should she when she was still hoping that Edward was going to help? Then there was the baby. Could she really leave this place, abandoning Elizabeth? She wasn’t her baby, she kept reminding herself of that, but she didn’t belong to anyone else. Who else could care for her and, yes, love her? Patricia could hardly articulate the feelings, but it was good to be needed. She loved the weight of the hot little bundle in her arms as she paced the bedroom. The little girl was even more vulnerable than she was and that gave her a patience and a strength she hadn’t had before. She couldn’t act rashly, not now she had to think about someone else.
Mrs Foley called from downstairs. She needed help. Patricia rolled her eyes and imagined that soon she’d be on her hands and knees cleaning out the grate of a fire she had never seen burning. She checked Elizabeth in her crib. Fed and changed, she was sleeping, her fists balled up over the blankets, tiny spit bubbles in the corners of her mouth. Patricia smiled and went to get her housecoat. It wasn’t on the hook by the door, Mrs Foley must have put it in the wash. She remembered there was another one in the wardrobe. She was putting it on when she felt something in the pocket. Rosemary’s letter! She had forgotten all about it after hearing the fight. She sat on the bed and took it out, smoothing the crumpled paper on her lap. She found where she had stopped reading.
… Kojak might be more her style … ha, ha!
The big scandal is that Fiona Dunn is after leaving Tony! His mother was in the salon and told us the whole story. Apparently they went to Lanzarote for their holidays and they met this couple from Dublin. Anyway she is after running away with your man and he has left the wife. Tony’s mother was calling her every name under the sun. I suppose everyone has forgotten how Fiona got with Tony. She just dumped poor John Hickey from a great height and apparently he was after buying a ring and everything. At least there are no kids. The scandal!
I don’t know if you have been in touch with your brother at all, but in case he didn’t tell you, Mrs Cronin died a couple of weeks ago. I know she was a friend of your mother’s. She had a stroke and then I think it was her heart. Probably for the best.
I was sad to see the For Sale sign outside your house …
Patricia stopped. She read the sentence again. ‘For Sale sign outside your house.’ What was she talking about?
I know you have made your life down in Cork now but it made it seem so final.
No. This must be some sort of mistake.
I hope you don’t mind me saying, but I really miss you. I’d love to see you. Maybe in the summer I could take a couple of days off and come down to visit you and meet the famous Edward!
The words on the page were dancing in front of her eyes. This couldn’t be true! That house was hers. It was her reward, for nursing their mother, for the sacrifices she had made. It must be Jerry, and that Gillian dripping poison in his ear. She knew she shouldn’t have trusted that slimeball Murphy the solicitor. He’d do anything Jerry said because he had the business. This wasn’t right. She had to stop him.
Clutching the letter in her hand, she went to the door. It was open. She rushed down the stairs.
‘Edward! Where are you, Edward?’ she called.
Mrs Foley came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a cloth.
‘What is it? Is the baby all right?’
‘Yes, yes,’ Patricia said impatiently, pushing her way past into the kitchen. ‘Where’s Edward? I have to speak to him!’ Her voice was louder now. Her feeling of hysteria was building. Something awful was happening and she had to stop it.
‘He’s out working. He’ll be in for lunch.’ Mrs Foley was not going to indulge this behaviour. ‘You need to calm down, my girl,’ she said sternly, but Patricia had caught a glimpse of Edward through the window. He was on the far side of the yard, walking towards the milking parlour. She lunged at the back door. It was unlocked. She stepped outside and called his name. ‘Edward!’
He turned, astonished to see her outside. She began to run barefoot across the uneven farmyard.
Mrs Foley was at the door, barking at her. ‘Patricia! Come back here.’ She began to make her way unsteadily after her in pursuit.
Edward ran towards Patricia and they were now standing in the centre of the yard. Her light housecoat was being lifted by the breeze and was flapping around her.
‘What is it?’ He put his hands on her shoulders, to steady her. Patricia’s face was now stained with tears and it was hard to understand what she was saying.
‘Jerry. My brother, Jerry, is trying to sell my house!’ She brandished Rosemary’s letter as evidence, but the wind caught it and carried it up into the grey sky, sailing around the side of the castle towards oblivion. Patricia sank to her knees, while Edward tried to hold her up.
His mother had joined them. She was holding her hair back from her face with one hand. ‘What is it? What is wrong with her?’
‘I’m not sure. Bad news.’
Patricia leaned against him and pleaded. ‘Please. I’ve got to go home. I’ve got to!.’ She twisted her head towards Mrs Foley. ‘Let me use the phone. I must call someone! I must!’ She was hysterical with frustration and panic. ‘Please, Edward! Please!’ His face showed no emotion. He grabbed her under one arm and lifted her up. His mother held her other arm tightly.
‘We need to get her back to bed.’ It was Mrs Foley speaking but Edward didn’t disagree. Patricia was frantic. He couldn’t be doing t
his.
‘Edward, you said I could go. You said you’d help me. Please. Please let me go. I have to go!’
She felt a sudden sharp pain on the left side of her face where Mrs Foley had slapped her.
‘You need to calm down.’ They began to half-carry, half-drag her back towards the house. Patricia struggled but it was useless. She felt the skin of her feet being torn and scratched as they pulled her across the yard and then into the kitchen. She was wailing now, screaming at the top of her voice. Words failed her.
Up the stairs they pulled her and then she was pushed onto the bed.
‘Hold her,’ Mrs Foley commanded and Edward, her Edward, eyes almost shut, as if he was in pain, pinned her down while his mother went across the room and picked up Elizabeth, who had begun to wail in unison with Patricia.
‘Leave her now,’ the old woman barked without a backwards glance as Edward trailed after her. The door was slammed and locked.
Patricia leapt from the bed and began to hammer on the door.
‘Edward! Please! Don’t do this!’ She pummelled her fists against the wood until they hurt. ‘Just one phone call! Please! Please!’ She slumped to the floor and buried her head between her knees, her body overcome by sobs and fatigue. Her house. The only thing she possessed in the world. She felt as if she was being slowly erased. Soon there wouldn’t be a trace left.
Hours crept by. Occasionally she could hear Elizabeth crying in another part of the house. She longed to be the one picking her up, cradling her, and kissing the sweet soft top of her head. Patricia tried to sleep but the cuts on her feet had begun to pulse with pain. She wondered if they would get infected and then she would die alone in this room. She began to cry again.
Much later (had she been sleeping?), she heard the scrape of the key in the lock. Patricia turned her face towards the wall.
‘Patricia?’ It was Edward’s voice. He spoke in a whisper.
She turned and saw him silhouetted against the landing light. He was holding the baby. She reached out her arms and he placed Elizabeth into them. Patricia held the baby tightly and pressed her cheek against the child’s face, breathing in deeply.
Light was still flooding into the room and Edward hadn’t moved.
A Keeper Page 20
