The bar had slowly filled with people who’d come to say their goodbyes; others had gathered in groups on the street outside. Paddy and Josie had hosted a send-off for every villager who’d left Tarabeg and headed to distant shores since the day they married. Daedio had been brought down from the farm with his chair on the cart and was sitting next to Bee. He’d been determined to go. ‘Get me down that feckin’ hill, Seamus, or I swear to God I’ll make Nola’s life a misery.’
‘What’s new there,’ Nola had whispered under her breath, but, as always, Daedio got his way.
The day was cold, still and lifeless, quite unlike the turmoil raging in Bee’s heart. The women who were standing in the street pulled their shawls closer about their heads and shoulders to keep out the chill and gazed in at her through the window, the expression in their eyes a mix of pity and wonder. They had done this before, so many times. ‘Take a tray of glasses out to them, Keeva,’ Paddy said. ‘We don’t want no one catching their death.’ As soon as he’d said the words, he wanted to snatch them back.
Bee, Captain Bob and Ciaran were leaving, sailing the following morning to Liverpool, and they were being taken to Dublin by Michael, in his van.
‘I can’t, Josie,’ said Bee as she pushed the plate away. ‘I feel sick to my stomach.’
Josie threw her a sympathetic glance. It was always the same. No one left with a spring in their step. Despite all the big talk and preparations, the saving of fares and the booking of tickets, when the day came, the village was awash with tears. The sound of voices thick with dreams as yet unrealised and the sight of hearts breaking became memories that lived for ever in the hearts of the exiled.
‘Can I have it?’ Ciaran looked hopefully from one to the other.
Bee forced a smile and pushed her plate towards her son, the boy with seemingly hollow legs who appeared to be little affected by the fact that all he owned was in a wooden trunk on the back of Michael’s van, ready to be unpacked in a city he had only heard of, in a house he could only imagine.
Regardless of how nervous Bee felt, watching her boy eat never failed to bring a smile to her face. ‘He’s looking forward to it as much as I’m dreading it,’ she said to Nola and Seamus, who were sitting opposite her. She looked around the bar at the other guests. Her words were met with wide-eyed silence.
‘Come on now,’ said Ellen. ‘’Tis not as if you can’t come back if you don’t like it. You still have your house here.’
The image of her cottage by the shore flew into Bee’s mind, but instead of the immaculate thatch and white-painted home she’d spent yesterday packing up, she saw four bare and roofless walls, a front door in splintered fragments on the ground and the interior inhabited by the elements. She shuddered as Ciaran ate noisily, wiped his plate with a generous slice of fried bread and, gulping the last of his tea, asked, ‘Can I go over to the shop to Michael?’
‘Aye, but don’t go down to the river, Ciaran, Michael will be wanting to leave shortly. The bags are loaded, ’tis just ourselves we have to get into the van now.’
‘Right, everyone, time for a whiskey to set these good people on their way.’ Paddy’s voice rang out in the bar.
‘I’ll give you a hand.’ Nola rose and followed him to the back.
‘Everyone’s outside,’ said Keeva as she came back in through the door. ‘God in heaven, you chose a day, Bee, ’tis freezing out there.’
Captain Bob laid his hand on top of Bee’s. ‘Are you having second thoughts?’
Bee’s eyes filled with tears. She extracted a handkerchief from the handbag Captain Bob had bought for her in Dublin when they’d gone there with Michael to buy the tickets. ‘You can’t even begin to imagine the thoughts that are racing through my head,’ she said as she wiped at her eyes. ‘You know, there was a day when if you’d asked me, “Where will you be ten years from now?” I would have laughed at you for asking the question because the answer was obvious, I’d have seen myself being exactly where I was. But that was before… before everything. Thank you,’ she muttered as she blew her nose.
‘Ah, don’t be thanking me,’ said Captain Bob. ‘This is all my own selfish intention. And besides, we can’t stay here, Bee. There are too many memories and… only so much we can expect people to turn a blind eye to. There sometimes comes a point in life when you simply have to brush yourself down and start over again, and for us that day has come. A new place to live, a new house and a new life. The future looks good, Bee.’
Bridget gave Bee a heartfelt smile. She’d seen it many a time, going back over fifty years – those who were sick to their heart at the prospect of leaving. ‘Don’t you be worrying,’ she said, her voice bright and false as she took a glass of whiskey from the tray Keeva offered her. ‘If it was so great here, wouldn’t they all be coming back as fast as they’d left?’
Bee stared at her, at first uncomprehending.
‘All I’m saying is, no one comes back. Who do you know from Tarabeg who has ever come back? God, if anyone does visit, ’tis like the poor person has visited the whole village. Everyone wants to see them and talk to them. Remember when Philomena’s sister came two years ago and Ellen could not for the life of her understand why she didn’t know the Barretts who had moved to New York?’ She sighed. ‘Dublin is never busy with people getting off the boat, is it? It’s all one-way.’
Bee reached up to take the glass of whiskey Paddy was holding out to her. ‘I’ll be back,’ she said, but in her mind she was asking herself when.
Captain Bob had secured a job as a captain, meeting the cargo ships and piloting them down the Mersey into the port of Liverpool, from where they had waited, out on the bar. He had already travelled to Liverpool and found them a house close to the docks. ‘It has a kitchen,’ he’d said to Bee. ‘The range is still there, but it was damaged in the war, and there’s a new gas cooker fitted next to it.’
Bee’s mouth had dropped. ‘A gas cooker? I have no idea how to use one of those. I’ll be sticking to the fire.’
Bob had just smiled at her indulgently. He understood why the traffic from Dublin was one-way. Bee would soon discover how quickly women who left the west coast of Ireland adapted from the life their ancestors had lived for hundreds of years to all the mod cons England and America had to offer.
‘Mammy!’ Ciaran shouted from the door.
Bob and Bee swivelled round in their chairs as Ciaran came in, followed by Michael, who was carrying Finnbar in his arms and had Mary Kate at his side, holding his hand.
‘God love you, come here,’ said Bee to Mary Kate, who ran over to her and allowed her to pull her up onto her knee. ‘I’ve been waiting for you.’
Captain Bob and Michael exchanged looks and locked hands. Bee thought she saw a tear in Michael’s eyes as Nola rose and took Finnbar from him.
Nola carried Finnbar to the chair and laid him on Daedio’s knee. ‘Here he is,’ she whispered as the old man looked inside the shawl. ‘The future.’
But her heart folded as he looked up at her and said, ‘I want Sarah back.’
‘Shush,’ she said before anyone heard him.
Seamus nodded to her as though to say, ‘Don’t worry, I have him,’ as he sat down in the chair next to Daedio and Finnbar.
Bee had heard Daedio and she reached out one of her hands, plump, warm and soft, and pressed it down on top of one of his own, cold, bony and arthritic with age. She turned away from the men and looked into Mary Kate’s eyes, on a level with her own. ‘Don’t you cry now. I’ve told you, your daddy will be putting you on the boat when the school holidays come and I will be waiting on the other side for you and you can stay with us in Liverpool, won’t that be grand?’
‘It will,’ whispered Mary Kate, who had lost all her vitality the day her mother had died. It seemed to Bee that she had almost lost her voice too.
‘You know we gave up America so that you could visit us in Liverpool – you know that, don’t you? That’s the only reason we’re going there, so that you know t
here’s another home ye have, just a boat ride away.’
‘We’ve come to wave you off,’ said Mary Kate so softly, Bee had to bend her head to hear her reply. ‘Can Rosie come too?’
Bee stiffened and wound her arms tighter around Mary Kate’s back, without answering. She shot Michael a look and she knew what the question was that was flickering in his eyes: ‘Rosie is stood outside, can I bring her in?’ He hadn’t dared at first. Rosie had continued with the arrangement of teaching during school hours and minding the shop beforehand and afterwards, and that was working well. But Bee had been far from happy.
‘Now that Sarah has gone, I can see something will happen,’ she’d said to Bob. ‘’Tis in her eyes and everything she says. And Sarah not yet cold in her grave, and Michael and the child in mourning.’
Captain Bob had taken Bee into his arms. ‘Aren’t we the ones who don’t judge? Isn’t it you and me who know that we should take everyone and everything for what they are? Rosie is working at the shop, that’s all. There isn’t anything between them, and whatever else, we surely don’t want Michael to be struggling with two children all alone, do we?’
That was the problem with Captain Bob – Bee never had an answer to refute what he said. He was her opposite. When she was mad, he was calm; he brought her down from the highs of indignation and made her think through her resentment and anger. He had the patience, she had none of it. He saved her, over and over and that was the reason she was abandoning all and everyone she knew to make a life with him where no one would know their past, no one would judge them. Captain Bob, he had saved her and she owed him that.
‘If Nola has no objection to Rosie, if she can see what is the best for Mary Kate and Finnbar, surely you can too, my little Bee?’
‘Yes, but Sarah was not Nola’s daughter. She was not her blood kin, only I am, me and Mary Kate and as God is my judge Mary Kate, she will not like it.’ Even as the words left her mouth, she knew how unfair they were. Nola had aged ten years in the week of Sarah’s death and that was when Bee knew she had to get away. She could not grieve in front of these people, Sarah’s new family. They mourned for Michael and his pain and for Mary Kate and the loss of her mother, but Bee, she mourned for Sarah and the past.
‘’Tis time,’ said Captain Bob, who could not keep the flicker of a smile from his face. A man looking forward to his new life. He had sailed from Ballycroy without a backwards glance and he knew he would never return. He had left his wife and family well provided for and his heart skipped at the thought of his life with Bee. Captain Bob had plans of his own. ‘’Twill make all the difference, you all being here to wave us off,’ he said to the people in the room as he stood.
‘We wouldn’t miss it for the world,’ said Brendan as he raised his glass. ‘Ah, here’s Father Jerry and Teresa. They won’t let you leave without a prayer under your wings.’
Minutes later, they were all standing in the street, glasses lifted, prayers said. Bee hugged everyone she knew, with Mary Kate never letting go of her hand. ‘Marry as soon as you can,’ were the only words Father Jerry said as his farewell. He was not happy.
‘You will be needed,’ Teresa whispered to Rosie as she sniffed the contents of her glass. ‘That little girl will feel this as a second loss.’
‘I’ll do my best.’ Rosie was nervous, convinced she’d be the one person Bee would not say goodbye to.
Bee finished her exchanges, storing in her mind the messages she had to pass on to the myriad of people she might bump into once she reached Liverpool and stuffing into her bag the letters she’d been asked to deliver. Finally she turned to Rosie.
‘Right, everyone. Come on, Bee, time to leave,’ said Captain Bob. He and Ciaran jumped into the van next to Michael.
Michael turned the key in the engine and the crowd fell silent. The moment of parting was the hardest. The van horn beeped. ‘Bee, come on!’ shouted Michael.
Bee looked into Rosie’s eyes. She was lost for words.
Rosie scrunched up the front of her skirt and, looking past Bee’s shoulder, saw people staring at them both, waiting for Bee, wondering would she change her mind at the very last moment. Nola stood with Finnbar in her arms, swaying from side to side. Seamus had his arm around her shoulders, wondering the same. It had never happened, but everyone always hoped it would. That the pull of love and place would be greater than the pull of opportunity.
Brendan was standing next to Father Jerry and both men had lit their pipes. ‘’Tis a big change when they leave,’ Brendan said. ‘Paddy will miss her in the bar.’
‘Michael will miss her more,’ said Father Jerry as he pulled on his pipe.
‘How are we doing, Father?’ Brendan glanced sideways at him. ‘Are we going to be all right?’
Father Jerry stared down at the ground. He had never spoken a word about Mr O’Dowd and his sudden departure. If anyone asked him, he replied, ‘He upped and left and isn’t ever coming back,’ and that was the end of it. ‘We are, Brendan. We are all going to be just fine, even Michael.’
Both men looked back at the van and raised their hands to Captain Bob, who was grinning from ear to ear and waving furiously. Keeva approached the van and Ciaran, who was pushed against the window next to Captain Bob, cheekily removed a glass of whiskey from the tray she was carrying and knocked it back in one. The crowd roared with laughter, aware that the only person not to have seen him was Bee.
‘Look after the kids well, will you?’ said Bee to Rosie. She fought back her resentment, her suspicion and her jealousy at the amount of time Rosie would be spending with Mary Kate and Finnbar. ‘I know Nola will be down to stay with them at night, but she’s getting older, and you, you will be spending plenty of time with them. Discipline her only with love, both of them, do you hear? They have lost their mammy.’ Bee’s voice broke and she swallowed hard.
Michael wound down the window of the van to shout, ‘Bee, come on, we will miss the boat tomorrow if you don’t hurry yerself.’
Bee gave Rosie a stiff hug and turned away. She had publicly endorsed Rosie, given her her blessing. What choice did she have? Halfway to the van, she stopped suddenly, remembering what it was she’d really wanted to say, and turned back to Rosie. ‘Don’t forget that Michael is a man in mourning. ’Tis not a wife he’s after just now, ’tis help with the practical things, the children, it’s the children who need you.’
Rosie, grateful for the public acknowledgement and the hug, nodded and smiled. ‘I will love them as though they are my own, Bee. Don’t worry about any of them. ’Tis not just a job to me. I care for both Mary Kate and Finnbar, and as you say, they have Nola and family.’
Bee scrutinised Rosie’s face. There was something behind the words, but she could not detect what it was. She walked towards the van and Rosie moved to join the crowd and wave away the van until the cloud of dust turned the corner. The wintry sun was low on the horizon and it wasn’t long before the sound of the van engine was drowned out by the noise of the river crashing over the rocks.
Rosie, her arm aching from waving, let it drop to her side as she whispered to the parting image of Bee smiling through the rear window, ‘But you must remember, Bee, I loved him first.’
We hope you enjoyed this book.
Nadine Dorries’ next book is coming in 2019
Glossary of Irish terms
About Nadine Dorries
About The Lovely Lane Series
About The Four Streets Trilogy
Also by Nadine Dorries
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Glossary of Irish terms
boreen narrow country lane
boxty bread made with grated potato and flour
colleen girl or young woman
curragh small wickerwork boat or coracle
dudeen short-stemmed clay tobacco pipe
Garda the Irish police force
&n
bsp; hooker single-masted boat, larger than a curragh, used by ocean fishermen on the west coast
poteen illegal home-brewed alcohol, made from potatoes
whin gorse
About Nadine Dorries
NADINE DORRIES grew up in a working-class family in Liverpool. She spent part of her childhood living on a farm with her grandmother, and attended school in a small remote village in the west of Ireland. She trained as a nurse, then followed with a successful career in which she established and then sold her own business. She has been the MP for Mid-Bedfordshire since 2005 and has three daughters.
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About The Lovely Lane Series
It is 1953 and five very different girls are arriving at the nurses’ home in Lovely Lane, Liverpool, to start their training at St Angelus Hospital.
Dana has escaped from her family farm on the west coast of Ireland. Victoria is running away from a debt-ridden aristocratic background. Beth is an army brat and throws in her lot with bitchy Celia Forsyth. And Pammy has come from quite the wrong side of the tracks in Liverpool.
Now they find themselves in a very different world. From formidable Matron, to terrifying Sister Antrobus. From kind housekeeper, Mrs Duffy, to Dessie, who rules the porter’s lads – not to mention the doctors, who range from crusty to glamorous. Everyone has their place at St Angelus and woe betide anyone who strays from it.
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