‘Ellen, you felt different because your mother tried to make you something you weren’t. That way she emphasized your differences all the time. If she’d just let you be you, you would never have felt alien.’
‘That’s true. I had to work really hard to fit in. I always felt I was playing a part.’
‘Maybe you’re more Murphy than Byrne.’
‘God, Conor, I’m one hundred per cent Irish.’
‘That’s fifty more than me.’
‘I hope Dylan isn’t cross that I stole the CD.’
‘Are you crazy? You’re his daughter.’ He shook his head. ‘He’s waited over thirty years for this.’
Conor pulled up in the car park behind the Pot of Gold. It was only when Ellen climbed out and stood that she felt the trembling in her legs. Her heart began to thump clumsily against her ribs and emotion rose unexpectedly to the bottom of her throat, where it formed a tight ball. Conor took her hand. ‘Are you sure you want to do this now?’
‘Positive.’
‘It’s going to be busy in there.’
‘I know. We’ll just ask him to come outside, then I’ll tell him.’
‘Why don’t I go and get him for you?’
‘No, I want to come,’ she insisted.
‘All right,’ he said, making for the door. ‘Let’s go and do this together.’
Conor pushed it open and they both entered. The pub was full of the usual people. If Ellen had stepped in alone no one would have paid her the least attention. But because she came in with Conor, a hush descended over the place and every eye in the room turned to watch them. Conor took control, ignoring the blatant curiosity as if he hadn’t noticed. He scanned the faces for Dylan, finding him at the end of a table against the wall, beside Johnny and Joe. Without letting go of her hand, he led her through the crowd.
Dylan sat up expectantly. A shadow of concern darkened his face. For a moment, his eyes assumed the haunted look they had had the first time Ellen met him, and she felt her heart buckle with compassion. He stood up. She was only intending to ask him to step outside, but she felt herself carried on a wave of emotion and was unable to control herself. Here was the man who had given her life but never known her. How could her mother have done this to him? How could she have done it to her? Ellen fought back tears. She didn’t want to break down in the pub, in front of all these people, but her whole chest was aching with the effort of restraining her feelings. ‘Ellen?’ Dylan enquired, gazing at her searchingly. He looked so worried that Ellen put her arms around him. ‘Are you all right?’ he asked.
‘I know,’ she whispered and held him tightly. It took a moment for her words to register. Then he relaxed and she felt his arms tighten around her, containing her trembling body.
‘Oh, Ellen.’ He groaned and his voice seemed to resonate from deep inside his chest.
‘I stole one of your CDs, but I’m not sorry.’ She pulled away and gazed at him as if for the first time. Conor was right, she had his eyes. ‘I should have guessed, shouldn’t I?’
Dylan stiffened as a murmur rippled around the pub. He turned to Conor. ‘Let’s go and have some tea. I’m starving, I could eat a horse.’
Joe was watching with interest. ‘Jaysus, what’s all this about? Am I missing something?’ His father, whose face was long and serious, shot him a look that silenced him as surely as a slap. He said nothing but watched pensively as Conor, Dylan and Ellen stepped out into the night.
Chapter 27
Once outside, Conor took Ellen’s hand. ‘Do you want me to leave you and Dylan alone together? I don’t want to impose.’
‘No, I want you to come,’ she replied. ‘You don’t mind, do you, Dylan?’
‘Come on, then. I don’t know about you, Conor, but I need a whiskey. I’ve got something soft for the little thief. You don’t get your slippery fingers from me, Ellen.’
‘I wanted to hear your songs,’ she explained, following him down the road. Her hand still held Conor’s tightly to steady her legs, which felt strangely dislocated from her body.
‘Jaysus, what’s your mother going to say about this?’ Dylan groaned, thrusting his hands into his pockets.
‘I won’t tell her.’
‘That’s what you think, but everything comes to light one way or another.’
‘I have a right to know who made me.’
‘It’s going to upset the apple cart,’ Dylan warned.
Ellen was aware of one or two other revelations which were going to upset her mother’s apple cart. ‘I have so many questions,’ she began.
‘At least give the man a whiskey before you interrogate him,’ said Conor.
‘Wise words indeed,’ Dylan replied, stopping at his front door.
‘For a community that thrives on gossip, you sure know how to keep secrets,’ said Ellen.
As they stepped inside, Finch jumped up at Conor, sniffing Magnum on his clothes and wagging his tail wildly. ‘Down, boy!’ Dylan commanded, taking off his coat and beanie and hanging them on the peg in the corridor. Conor took Ellen’s coat and hung it up with his, then put his hand in the small of her back, accompanying her into the sitting room where Dylan was already pouring two large glasses of whiskey. He took a swig then handed the other tumbler to Conor.
‘I’ll go and fetch my Coke,’ said Ellen, walking on into the kitchen. She heard the two men talking in the sitting room but not what they were saying. She opened the fridge. Besides bottles of soda and a few Cokes there was little in the way of food. She found a glass in the cupboard above the sideboard and opened her can. She looked about her and considered the man who had turned out to be her father. It was too momentous to digest. It made sense, certainly. It answered questions, too. But where did it leave her in a family where she had already felt out of place? Where did it leave her father? Nothing had changed except knowledge but somehow that knowledge changed everything. The past thirty-three years could not be altered or erased, and yet her perception of them had now shifted. She saw those years in a different light and therefore, in her mind, they had changed. The tingling in her body reflected her shock, but she wondered why she wasn’t reacting in the normal way. Why she wasn’t tearing out her hair, accusing her mother of deception and bewailing her life as a lie. She and Dylan had every reason to tear the place apart with fury.
When she went back into the sitting room, Dylan was sitting in the armchair, smoking a Rothmans, and Conor was on the sofa. Their glasses were already half empty. The golden liquid glistened in the yellow light of the lamps. Ellen took the space on the sofa between them and thought how extraordinary it was that these two men she had only recently met were now two of the most important in her life. A couple of weeks ago she hadn’t known either of them and her life had been so much poorer.
Dylan smiled at her with affection, which Ellen now recognized as paternal. ‘So, you know,’ he said simply.
‘I know,’ she replied, suddenly feeling bashful. ‘Your songs are very beautiful.’
‘Thank you. I was inspired.’
‘Surely, if you sang about the child you lost everyone who knew you and my mother must have known you fathered her child?’
‘No one knew she was pregnant,’ he said.
‘Did you know?’ Conor asked.
‘Not at the time.’ Dylan took another swig. His Adam’s apple rose and fell sharply as he swallowed. ‘It was in the letter.’
‘The one Mum sent you after I was born?’
‘That’s right.’
‘Do you still have it?’ Conor asked.
Dylan nodded. ‘I still have it. I’m a sentimental old fool. Ellen, bring me that cardboard box.’ He pointed to the top of the tall bureau. ‘You’ll have to climb on the chair.’ Ellen could just see the box peeping out from behind the decorative crest at the top of the piece of furniture.
‘Let me,’ said Conor, putting his glass on the coffee table. ‘I’m tall.’ Ellen watched him stand on the chair and reach up. He lifted the box down and han
ded it to Dylan. Dylan settled it on his lap and lifted the lid. Ellen was curious to see what was inside.
Dylan rummaged about until he found the letter. He popped his cigarette between his lips and pulled the folded piece of paper out of the envelope. Ellen recognized her mother’s pale-blue writing paper and the family crest engraved in gold on the flap. The letter itself was headed in the same gold with the address at Eaton Court. After looking at it for a moment, Dylan handed it to Ellen. She and Conor read it together.
My darling Dylan,
I don’t know what to say except that I am sorry I left without saying goodbye. You must hate me for running away and I don’t blame you. I hate myself for running away, too. I wish I could say that I had no choice, but we always have choices; I just made a bad decision, which I now bitterly regret. I hope when you read what I have to say you will understand. I hope you are sitting down.
I have a baby now. She’s got your eyes, Dylan. I’ve called her Ellen, although Anthony wanted to call her Leonora or Lavinia after his mother and grandmother. These posh English families have a thing about names! But I fought for it and won.
Do you remember our last summer when I felt sick all the time and you composed that silly song ‘Sick as a Dog’ to make me feel better? It didn’t take the sickness away but it made me laugh, all right!! Well, shortly after that I realized I must be pregnant. Anthony was hot on my tail. You were mad with jealousy, but I was flattered. I suppose I behaved badly, encouraging him as I did, without considering your feelings. I’m sorry, Dylan. I was selfish. I know that now. Anyhow, I was scared and didn’t know what to do, so I told Peg. She was scared, too. You remember Emer Callaghan? We all wondered why she disappeared for such a long time and Johnny spread it around that she had gone to prison for shoplifting? Well, Peg told me that she had got pregnant and been sent to a convent. When she returned she wasn’t broken because of prison, but because she had to give up her baby. I didn’t want that to happen to me. As you know, Mam would never have allowed me to keep what she would have considered to be a bastard. I shudder to think what she would have done. Only God could separate me from my beautiful little girl. I am probably condemned to eternal hell for my sins, but it will be worth it. So, my only choice was to run away. You being as poor as a church mouse and Anthony being so rich, I chose to run off with him. I should have told you but I knew you’d try to stop me. I knew I ’d let you.
Oh Dylan, I miss you every day of my life. I have everything I need, yet besides little Ellen, I have nothing I want. I dream of a life with you and wonder what it would be like to make a home together, far from Ballymaldoon and the Byrnes, where we could bring up our little girl. I miss Ireland. I miss my people. These Brits are as cold as fish. Anthony and I don’t laugh like we used to. If I stay here much longer I think I’ll forget how to laugh altogether!
So, I’m asking you to come and get me, Dylan. You loved me once and I’m praying you still do. I love you and always have. In fact, I love you more now because I know what torture it is to be without you.
Please take me home.
Yours forever, Ellen Olenska
‘Does that answer your questions?’ Dylan asked when Ellen had finished reading.
‘Yes,’ Ellen replied quietly. ‘It doesn’t sound like Mum at all.’
Conor noticed her flushed face and took her hand. ‘Why didn’t you bring her home?’ he asked Dylan.
Dylan blew out a cloud of smoke. ‘I had no money. What could I give her? What could I give you?’ he said to Ellen.
‘I don’t think she cared about that,’ Ellen argued.
‘Not when she wrote the letter, perhaps, but I knew your mother.’
‘Wharton’s Ellen Olenska didn’t care for money,’ said Conor.
‘This one did,’ Dylan added. ‘Listen, she was married. She was Lady Trawton. I thought about this long and hard. Anthony thought you were his. If I went bowling in there, claiming to be the father of his child, think of the scandal that would have caused. I couldn’t do it to Maddie. She’d made her decision. I’m not a religious man but I wasn’t ready to break up a family.’
‘So, you walked away?’ said Conor.
‘I walked away. She never even knew I’d gone to see her.’
‘And now, here I am,’ said Ellen shyly.
Dylan smiled, incredulous. ‘Here you are. Out of the blue.’
‘Who else knows?’ Conor asked.
‘Your grandmother knew because Peg told her, which means Father Michael knows, because he knows everything.’
‘Oh, Father Michael knows,’ interrupted Ellen, recalling their conversation at Desmond and Alanna’s house. ‘When I sat next to him at lunch, he assumed I had already worked it out. He didn’t mention me being your daughter, Dylan. I think he took it for granted that I already knew. Although one thing baffles me now. He suggested my mother had to forgive her mother. He gave me a very meaningful look when he said it. But what did she have to forgive her for?’
Dylan looked blank. ‘I don’t know.’
‘You could ask Peg?’ Conor suggested.
‘Of course, Peg must know,’ said Ellen.
‘But you’re here,’ said Dylan, his big, sentimental eyes shining with emotion. ‘I hoped we’d meet one day and here you are, in my sitting room. In my life. Who’d believe it?’ His chin trembled and his mouth wobbled into a grin. ‘One minute I had nothing but memories and now I have a daughter. A daughter who sings like an angel.’
A while later the food was ready and they sat down to eat at the small kitchen table. Dylan produced cold meat and cheese. He asked Conor about his new project and the two men discussed composers who might be suitable to write the film score. Ellen listened contentedly as they analysed the great writers and the movies they had written for. ‘You know Elmer Bernstein wrote the soundtrack to the film of The Age of Innocence,’ said Dylan.
‘I recall it was nominated for an Academy Award for best original score,’ Conor replied. ‘But lost out to—’
‘Schindler’s List,’ Dylan interjected. ‘It was a great film and I rarely say that a film does justice to a novel.’
‘You’re right,’ Conor agreed. ‘It’s one of my favourites. Ellen’s never seen it.’
‘But you read the book?’ Dylan asked.
‘I finished it,’ she replied. ‘It’s got a sad ending,’ she added to Conor. ‘So, Ellen is an unlucky name.’
He squeezed her hand. ‘Don’t reduce yourself to a character in a novel.’
‘Your name represents hope and love,’ interjected Dylan. ‘And what’s luck if it didn’t bring you to my door?’
‘And to mine,’ Conor agreed.
Dylan raised his whiskey glass. ‘I’d like to make a toast.’
‘Go on,’ said Conor.
‘To Ellen, for walking into my life like a spring breeze full of optimism. The future looks brighter because you’re in it.’ His eyes watered and he blinked self-consciously. ‘I never thought I’d say that.’
Conor raised his glass, too. ‘ To Ellen.’ His smile was full of gratitude. ‘I couldn’t agree more.’
It was after midnight when they parted. A light drizzle was carried inland off the sea and the sky was dark. Ellen embraced Dylan. They held each other tightly, silently affirming their determination not to allow any more years to come between them. Dylan stood in the doorway and watched them walk up the road, hand in hand, until they had disappeared round the corner. Then he went back inside and closed the door behind him.
Conor drove Ellen back to Peg’s. ‘Thank you for coming with me,’ she said, as he pulled up in front of the house.
‘I’m glad I came. You made Dylan a very happy man tonight. But how do you feel?’
‘I’m fine. I should be devastated, but I’m not.’
‘You’re still in shock,’ he said. ‘Don’t be surprised if it hits you like a truck in the morning.’
‘I won’t.’
‘You call me if you’re worried, won’t you?
I don’t care what time of the night it is.’
She leaned over and wrapped her arms around him. ‘Thank you.’
‘And I’ll come and pick you up tomorrow.’ He nuzzled his face into her neck. ‘I wish I could take you home with me now. I don’t want to leave you to spend the night alone.’
‘I’ll be OK, I promise.’
‘Come to Dublin,’ he suggested suddenly.
‘When?’
‘Next week. I’ll put you up in a grand hotel . . .’
‘But I’ve committed to Alanna.’
‘Un-commit.’
‘I can’t. It wouldn’t be fair. I’ll come to Dublin when the girl who works for her gets back.’
‘Where has she gone?’
‘I don’t know. But she’ll come back.’
‘She’d better! Then I’ll show you around my city.’
‘I’m meant to be writing a book,’ she protested, wanting to be persuaded.
He laughed at her fondly. ‘You’re my girl, which means you have to be where I am.’
‘OK, I’ll come to Dublin.’ She smiled.
‘That’s a promise, all right?’
‘It’s a promise.’
He kissed her. ‘Then I’ll see you tomorrow.’
‘Usual time?’
‘Usual time. You’re becoming a habit.’
She grinned at him broadly. ‘Good. I hope you have an awfully addictive personality.’
He kissed her again. ‘Oh, I do, and you have all the qualities to ensure I’m utterly dependent!’
She waved as Conor drove off, then hurried through the drizzle into the house. The light was on in the kitchen. She went to switch it off when a voice greeted her from the table. There, sitting on Jack’s chair with a mug of tea, was Peg.
‘Aunt Peg, I haven’t kept you up, have I?’ she asked, registering Peg’s anxious face.
‘Come and sit down, pet,’ she said softly. Ellen wished she could go to bed. She knew she should discuss with Peg what she had learned, but she suddenly felt exhausted, as if the emotional wave had finally hit her. She did as her aunt requested, however. Peg sighed deeply and Ellen knew there was a serious purpose to her midnight vigil. ‘Do you want a cup of tea?’ Peg asked.
Secrets of the Lighthouse Page 30
