The weather was so bad, there were no skillets or pans hanging outside the shop today. ‘If we open the shop door, everything will get soaked and blown off the shelves,’ said Sarah. ‘It will have to stay closed. Anyone fool enough to go out in this weather will know we’re open – aren’t we always.’ Looking at the torrent of water cascading down the windows, Mary Kate was relieved to hear that.
What little floor space there was inside the crowded shop was stacked from floor to ceiling with zinc baths, animal feed, pots and pans, skeins of wool already wound by Sarah, and hessian sacks of potatoes. There were jars of sweets, baskets of vegetables, sacks of flour, tubs of bicarbonate of soda, and on the cold shelf always a slab of cheese and jars of whatever preserves Sarah had made. Baskets of already cut and dried peat blocks almost entirely filled the doorway, ready for the new tourists who rented the keeper’s cottage out on the road to the coast. Michael had wanted a side of bacon on the cold slab to sell rashers as he was open longer hours than Paddy, but even he knew that making enemies was not the way to make money. Paddy would never have forgiven him and it would have as good as started a village war. There was also some ‘exotic’ produce, as Mrs O’Doyle described the tins of ham and the hair ribbons that sat on the shelf behind the till along with the baccy.
Most of the fresh produce came from local farms and the rest came from Michael’s jaunts about the country. He could be gone for a full week at a time. It was his increasing variety of wares that angered the Maughans. He now stocked pots and pans, the very things they had traditionally sold from the back of their caravan. He was taking their trade. He even offered a knife-sharpening service, and the villagers were glad of it. They were glad of anything that gave them a reason to avoid Shona. The Maughans having no excuse to ride up the boreens to the farms was a relief to everyone who lived on them. ‘We won’t need your pans or any knives sharpening, I took them down to Malone’s,’ was a cry the tinkers were hearing more often as one door after another closed in their faces.
Nearly seven years on, Michael Malone wished he’d built a shop twice the size. He could have filled it with even more stock and then he might have been able to buy a bigger van and bring back an even greater variety and quantity of goods to Tarabeg. Right now, the shop could hold no more. ‘I’ll be having to move out of the house and back up to the farm with Nola and Seamus if you keep bringing back more things to sell,’ Sarah had complained.
‘Aye, but I bring more back because I sell what we have and that’s how we make the money,’ Michael had replied. ‘Have you seen how many men they’re taking on up at the quarry? ’Tis getting huge, so it is.’
Something made Mary Kate look up from her book; she had no idea what. Her skin prickled and her eyes stung. She looked around the shop, but there was no one and nothing. The air was still and all she could hear was the faint sound of running water in the scullery and her mother singing, competing with the downpour outdoors. She looked back down at her book, tried to read a line, failed. Her concentration had evaporated. She looked at the wooden till drawer, as empty as it had been when the morning began.
If a customer came in the door, she was under strict instructions to run for Sarah. As an only child, she was allowed to do many things, but taking the money was not one of them. She decided that as there had been no customers, she would go back into the house, find her mother and sneak one of the hot oatcakes she could smell and dip it in some buttermilk. She had another look about, felt more settled, closed the book and was about to slide down from the stool when a sudden sharp thud on the window made her jump.
The face of Shona was pressed against the glass, her white hair splayed, blocking out the light. Mary Kate screamed. Her book slipped from her fingers to the floor and she almost fell off the stool. She charged into the kitchen and didn’t stop even as she knocked over two chairs and sent the neatly stacked bags of oats flying.
‘God in heaven, what is it?’ shouted Sarah as she threw down a half-skinned rabbit and ran with bloody hands to her daughter. ‘What’s wrong, are you hurt, what?’ She furiously wiped her hands up and down her apron and reached out to grab Mary Kate as she came hurtling towards her. Sarah held her at arm’s length. ‘What is it? Who is it?’
But Mary Kate could not reply. Her face was as white as a sheet and it was clear to Sarah that something had scared her.
‘Wait here,’ she said. ‘Watch the dog doesn’t come in from the yard and take the rabbit.’
Sarah’s heart beat wildly as she slowly and nervously made her way through to the shop at the front. Michael had gone up to see Daedio at the farm and was to bring Nola and Seamus back down for Mass. He was dropping off feed on his way up. He’d begun a new service of delivering feed to the more remote farms, leaving the bags at the bottom of the boreen. He saved the farmers a day’s work having to collect it themselves and he could barely keep up with the demand. He was paid the cost of the feed, and some offering in kind was always left for him at the drop-off point for his trouble. Eggs, a homemade cake or pie, a quart of poteen, or if the farmer was in hard times, a bunch of wild flowers, picked and tied with braided grass, or a straw dolly for Mary Kate.
Sarah stopped breathing as she turned the corner from the kitchen into the shop. Looking up at the closed door, she realised that because it had been kept shut against the driving rain, she’d forgotten to drop the bolt at the top. The shadow of Jay Maughan hobbling past the window made Sarah want to scream herself. The man she had escaped being married to; and outside, in the caravan, the life that had very nearly been her own. She shivered as she moved towards the door. ‘Be brave,’ she whispered. ‘Be brave, you’re a married woman.’
She straightened her back and stood on tiptoes to drop the bolt. Her mouth was dry and she knew she was no less afraid than her daughter. Through the rain-smeared windows she could make out the shadowy outline of the horse and caravan. The sound of metal sliding against metal filled the silence as the bolt fell. The instant she dropped her fingers to the handle, the door flew open with the force of the wind, and standing directly before her was Jay Maughan.
Her hand instinctively flew to her throat. Despite wanting to appear brave, she let out a sharp gasp. He smiled, his anger at having had to step down from the caravan forgotten for a moment as he savoured her discomfort. His cap was so sodden that water streamed from its wilting peak, across his forehead and down his face. Sarah almost jumped as two drenched and half-dressed waifs ran to his side. He brought different children every time and the eyes of these two never left Sarah’s face, one pair inquisitive, the other mocking.
Maughan wiped the water from his eyes with the back of his hand, his irritation having quickly returned. ‘Why have you closed?’ he demanded menacingly. He took a step forward, his fists clenched at his sides.
Sarah cautiously glanced across the road to the butcher’s. She couldn’t see the front door from where she stood but was hoping to catch sight of Paddy or Josie moving through to the bar. There was nothing; no one to be seen anywhere in such foul weather.
‘We want baccy for me and the barleys for Shona, and be quick. Where’s the girl?’
‘What girl?’ asked Sarah, wondering what she was going to do. She didn’t want him to come into the shop, but she was afraid that if she closed the door and left him standing in the rain, he would break it down. She had no choice but to leave the door open as she stepped back inside.
Just as she’d feared, he followed her. ‘You know what girl. Your girl.’
Right at that moment, Mary Kate appeared in the doorway.
‘Mary Kate, stay back!’ Sarah shouted louder than she meant to, betraying her fear.
‘Yes, stay back, girl.’ Maughan laughed. ‘Nice hair. Shona had hair like yours. Do you want to come to the caravan and meet Granny Shona?’
Mary Kate stepped to her mother’s side and grabbed her hand. Sarah found her voice. ‘No, Maughan, she does not. You have your baccy and barley sugars, now go.’
Jay ig
nored her. ‘Where’s your man?’ he asked as he wiped his nose with the back of his hand.
She cast her eyes out of the door. There was no sound. No sign of Michael or anyone else. She took a deep breath. ‘I told you, Maughan, go. Your wife is waiting in the back of the caravan. Is there nothing you want for her?’ Sarah didn’t know where she’d found the words. She sounded a lot braver than she felt. Michael had stood between her and this man every time he’d passed through the village. This was the first time she and he had met face to face.
Maughan wasn’t listening to Sarah, his eyes were fixed on Mary Kate. ‘How old are you now, girl?’ he asked her.
Sarah squeezed Mary Kate’s hand. ‘It doesn’t matter to you, Maughan. Go.’
‘She’s not as old as this is, this present from your daddy.’ Maughan pointed down to his wounded leg, where McGuffey had shot him.
Sarah had no words. She stared at him, waiting for his next salvo, frozen at the mere reference to her father. But she could sense danger and she would stand between whatever it was and her Mary Kate.
‘She might be in need of a family soon, so you remember me, girl. I’m here. I’ll be waiting. Your granddaddy promised me. I saw your daddy, Sarah. Came back, he did. Pays me money for news, he does. Said he was sorry about this, me leg. Told me he wants news of the girl. I can pass on the news now. Pretty little thing, isn’t she?’
‘What do you mean, she’ll be in want of a family? She’s in want of nothing. She has plenty of family.’
‘Ah, but nothing stays the same, does it, Sarah? You know that. Your own mammy dead, yer daddy gone. You didn’t know that was happening, did you? Things change. I can tell your daddy that I’ve seen the girl and what a pretty little colleen she is.’
A rage came over Sarah. A red rage. A mist fell across her eyes and she lunged at Jay with her nails. Almost screeching, she went for his face. ‘Get out! Get out!’ she howled at him.
The fear of her father and her repulsion for Maughan drove her hands as her fists rained down on his face. She heard screams from somewhere behind her. It was Mary Kate and she sounded terrified.
Maughan gripped both of Sarah’s hands in his huge fists and held her by the wrists. He was much stronger than she’d expected. His eyes blazed and spittle ran down his chin as he pressed his face close to hers. ‘Your daddy has a special message for you too. He will get you back, miss. But I told him, Shona will get you first. This house, this shop, ’tis on our land and we will take it back and you will suffer for it one day. You will pay.’
The noise of the van pulling up outside and the squeal of its brakes made Maughan drop her hands. Sarah staggered back towards Mary Kate and grabbed her, almost wrapped her skirts around her to protect her, as Michael hurtled through the front door. ‘What the feck are you doing inside here!’ he shouted. But before he could gather his wits, Maughan had stormed past him and out to the caravan, where Shona and the two urchins were waiting.
Michael followed him. ‘Oi, I’m talking to you! What are you doing in my fecking shop?’
Seamus was helping Nola out of the van and he raced after his son. ‘Don’t cross him,’ he said, all too aware of Shona’s power. ‘That’s enough.’ He pulled Michael back by the arm.
‘What’s he up to?’ Michael demanded as he shook Seamus’s hand away. He turned and ran back into the shop. ‘What was he up to?’ he screamed at Sarah. And then, seeing how distressed she looked, how both of his girls looked, he grabbed hold of them and pulled them to him.
Sarah was rubbing her reddened wrists. Her hair had fallen out of her ribbon and was tumbling over her shoulders, and she was struggling for her breath. The emerald heart, given to her by Daedio, felt hot against her skin as she pushed the chain to one side.
‘What did he do, Sarah? Tell me.’ Michael looked into her face. ‘Did he touch you?’
Sarah lifted her wrists to show him. ‘I tried to hit him, I did it first. Michael, he’s in touch with Daddy and was asking about Mary Kate.’
The blood left Michael’s face. There wasn’t a single parent in the west who didn’t live in fear of their pretty young daughter being stolen by gypsies, but this, this was his worst nightmare. The words he didn’t want to hear. ‘Do you think he was after taking Mary Kate?’
‘No, no, don’t be talking like that,’ said Seamus, who was now indoors, with Nola right behind him, panting. He looked over at Mary Kate and saw that she was listening to every word. She was a clever little thing – which Nola put down to her being an only child, a rarity in Tarabeg – and she was obviously terrified.
‘What’s going on?’ Nola asked.
‘He’s talking crazy. He thinks Maughan is after taking Mary Kate,’ whispered Seamus.
Michael was heading out the door again, but Nola grabbed his arm. ‘Come back into the house,’ she said. ‘Please, Michael. You know how we deal with them – we don’t speak. Don’t rise to it. You know Bridget’s instructions.’
Michael fell to his knees in front of Mary Kate. ‘Tell me what happened. Tell Daddy. What did the man say?’
Mary Kate was as sharp as a whistle. Taking a deep breath, she straightened her shoulders and spoke to her daddy almost as an adult would. ‘The old woman’s face was pressed up against the shop window and she was staring at me, Daddy. I was a bit scared, wasn’t I, Mammy, just a bit though, not a lot. I was very bold with her, really.’ She looked up at her mammy, hoping she wouldn’t betray her and tell her daddy that she’d screamed with fright. She wanted him to think she was grown up and brave.
‘And what did the man say when he came in to the shop?’
‘He told Mammy he wanted to see me.’ The sudden rush of courage that had fortified Mary Kate left as quick as it had come and she began to cry.
Michael stood and scooped her up into his arms. ‘Come on, in the back, everyone. I should have killed him and finished off what McGuffey started.’
Nola was at the fire and put the kettle on the black iron trivet that stood over it. ‘You would have been a fool to do so, then or now,’ she said. ‘The man can be dangerous. Bite your tongue and let him buy from you whatever he wants, whenever he wants it. And keep Mary Kate always in your sight. You can’t cross these people. They’re too powerful and dangerous.’ And then, in a voice loaded with meaning, ‘Michael, we need to have someone in this shop all the time, not just Sarah. You are making enough money now. She can’t be looking after the house and the shop, ’tis too busy. There needs to be an extra pair of eyes kept on Mary Kate.’ She lifted the teapot. ‘For every problem there is an answer. Right, everyone, drink your tea. Sarah, where’s the brack? The child is shaken and she’s too young for the Powers.’ She began pouring a large dollop of whiskey into each adult’s mug.
Half an hour later, Bee had arrived. As she and Sarah calmed Mary Kate and Seamus talked to his son, Nola had an idea.
‘Michael, Sarah, I think I know who you can take on for help.’
‘Who?’ asked Sarah.
‘And when Michael goes away in future, one of us is going to be sleeping down here at the shop,’ Nola continued.
Bee had been about to give them her own news, but in the light of events decided against it. When she heard Captain Bob arrive outside, she ran out to meet him. ‘I haven’t told them. There’s been trouble here – the Maughans turned up.’
‘What did they want?’ asked Bob, his antenna up.
‘Maughan’s spoken to McGuffey and he was trying to scare Sarah.’
Bob placed a kiss on Bee’s cheek. He knew exactly what she’d be thinking. ‘If that’s the case, you and I will have to put our plans on hold. It’s not the time to tell them about America. I won’t come in now, I’ll away up to Brendan’s house and then over to Paddy’s bar and see what people have to say.’
Bee hugged the man she had grown to love and trust and marvelled at his understanding. They’d been about to tell Sarah that they were ready to try a new life and join Captain Bob’s sister.
‘It can
wait,’ he said as he kissed her and made off.
‘I bet Rosie O’Hara would love the job,’ said Keeva, who had heard the commotion and run over with Josie. ‘She can hardly clothe herself. I’m guessing she would jump at a bit of extra money. The school is ten until three. I bet she would come before and after. What do you think, Michael?’
Michael didn’t answer at first. He would have preferred it not to be Rosie O’Hara, but he couldn’t put into words why. She was the best teacher to Mary Kate and a solid friend to Sarah.
*
Later that evening, Teresa Gallagher walked up the boreen to Rosie’s house and was delighted to find her unwrapping an elderberry pie out of a tea towel. ‘Where did you get that from?’ she asked.
‘I had visitors,’ Rosie said, beaming with pleasure.
Teresa was instantly suspicious. She could read Rosie like a book.
‘Nola Malone and Sarah came here to offer me a job at the shop and they brought it as a gift.’
Teresa took a plate out of her basket. ‘A job? You already have a job, and don’t they just know that. Look, I’ve brought you some salmon.’
Rosie was wearing her hair tied into a tight bun at the nape of her neck. Her long, old-fashioned skirt had belonged to her late mother and Teresa noticed that the hem was frayed and in desperate need of repair. She had mended it half a dozen times and she had no idea how they could tidy it up again without removing another inch.
‘I know, but wasn’t that great of them to ask me.’
‘Ask you? You can’t give up the school. Have you taken the job?’
Rosie placed the pie onto a plate painted with shamrocks. ‘I have. It’s for before and after school. They offered me ten shillings a week. Can you imagine! How could I not? They wanted me full time, but I’ve said only during the school holidays. Otherwise it’s eight until nine thirty in the mornings and then after school from three thirty to six.’
Teresa removed her coat and hung it on the nail by the door. The top of the stable door was open and she took in the view. The teacher’s house was elevated and now that it had at last stopped raining she could see all the way down, across the churchyard, straight on to the Malone shop, where more lights than usual were burning, and across the river.
Shadows in Heaven Page 26
