Till the Sun Shines Through

by Anne Bennett

  ‘Well, we’ll soon find out,’ Rosalyn said. ‘We’re ridiculously early, but you’ll turn into a nervous wreck if you stay here a minute longer. Come on.’

  They called for Father Shearer at the presbytery and he left hurriedly, watched disapprovingly by Father Fearney and the hatchet-faced housekeeper.

  ‘I know it’s easy for me to say,’ Father Shearer said, ‘but try not to worry too much. I had a long chat with Father Phillips on the phone last night and I can truthfully say that I think he’s on your side in this.’

  Bridie took comfort in the priest’s words as he hoped she would and did find Father Phillips to be a compassionate man when she met him, and one who intended to be fully supportive. After his long talk with Father Shearer, he’d phoned Father Flynn and discussed the case. Both men spoke highly of Bridie and within minutes of talking to her, he too liked the woman. She was respectable and kindly, a good, devout Catholic, and her parents were more than willing to offer them all a home with them back in Ireland.

  ‘I’ll phone Oakengates straightaway,’ he said.

  ‘Every time I ring they make excuses, or say it’s not convenient to visit at the moment,’ Bridie said dejectedly.

  ‘Well, they won’t say that to me,’ Father Phillips promised.

  Nor did they. When he explained who he was and enquired about the two children, he was told they had severe emotional problems and Katie was awaiting assessment from a psychologist from Moneyhall. He didn’t share this information with Bridie – it wouldn’t be helpful – but he made an appointment to speak with Doctor Havering the following morning.

  ‘Can I go with you?’ Bridie asked.

  ‘Not this time, my dear,’ the priest said. ‘They mustn’t guess there is any sort of collusion between us.’

  Bridie realised she had to be patient. ‘I will come to the Mission hall afterwards to save you dragging out here again,’ he said. ‘Wait for me there.’

  They said goodbye to Father Shearer in the city centre and then Rosalyn, knowing the rest of the day would drag for Bridie, readily agreed to go and collect her rations with her and go around the Bull Ring to kill time. Rabbit meat was on sale in one butcher’s, but the queue for it was so long, it snaked in and out the stalls. Rosalyn noted each person only got a very small amount and yet Bridie joined the end of the queue without thinking about it. ‘See if you can get hold of some vegetables,’ she advised her cousin. ‘If I get a bit of rabbit before they run out, we can make a stew. It’s what you need in weather like this.’

  Rosalyn did get vegetables – potatoes, swedes, parsnips, carrots and onions – the things grown on British soil and in every available space now the ‘Dig for Victory’ campaign was taking effect. After a wait of more than an hour, Bridie managed to procure a small supply of rabbit meat, which she was ridiculously pleased with.

  They went to the Mission hall before returning home to tell Father Flynn of the latest developments only to find Father Phillips had already phoned him and put him in the picture. They arranged to go to the Mission hall at half past ten the following day to hear what the priest had to say.

  Early the next morning, Father Phillips travelled to the orphanage, full of misgivings. However honest and trustworthy Bridie was, she’d not seen or tried to speak to the children in all the time following the raid. Maybe they’d been so mentally damaged by the raid, they would never fully recover.

  However, he would see the children himself and make up his own mind, he decided. But that was the one thing he sensed the doctor was loath to let him do. ‘They are sick children, Father.’

  ‘I understand that,’ the priest said, ‘but I wish to see that for myself.’

  ‘Do you propose to remove two distressed children from a unit where they are having specialist help?’

  Father Phillips smiled. ‘Your orphanage is not unique in having specialists work with damaged children,’ he said. ‘And those two children Katie and Liam Cassidy are baptised Catholics, born of devout parents, and belong in Father Hudson’s Home, not here, however good the establishment is.’

  The doctor wished he could tell the priest to go to Hell, but knew he couldn’t do that; the man could make life very awkward for him. Now when the children were in charge of social services, he could fight anyone else, including the natural parents, for custody and probably win his case, but against the Catholic Church, he was powerless and he knew it.

  If he was to try and block the priest in what he wanted to do, he knew he would bring bishops and the rest of the Church hierarchy down on his head. It wouldn’t be the children’s physical state they would be worried about, but their spiritual welfare, their immortal souls. He’d met many Catholics and knew that they considered their Church was the one true one, founded by the apostle Peter, and anyone who worshipped in any other faith was destined for Hell. He personally thought this a load of rubbish, but Catholics believed it and therefore as children baptised into the faith, their souls were at risk if left in his orphanage. This Father Phillips would take them away and there wasn’t one damned thing he could do about it.

  ‘I understand the children are distressed and traumatised,’ Father Phillips said. ‘For that reason I would have no problem in yourself, or someone else from the orphanage who they are familiar with, sitting in with me, but I must insist on seeing the children today.’

  Father Phillips didn’t see two severely disturbed children when they were brought in to the room, he saw frightened ones, scared by what life had thrown at them. He left his chair and crouched down on his haunches, knowing an adult’s height often intimidated children. ‘Hallo,’ he said. ‘My name is Father Phillips.’

  Katie and Liam had been spoken to by many strangers over the last few weeks, and they’d learned to ignore most of the questions fired at them, but no one had crouched before them before, nor spoken so gently.

  None of them had been priests either. Priests belonged to their other life, before the tragedy that had robbed them of their mother, along with everyone else. Priests were familiar and safe. Katie smiled tentatively at the priest and Liam, watching his sister, smiled too, though his smile was even more tremulous and hesitant.

  Father Phillips heart ached for those two frightened children. He understood they’d been separated, and knew that sometimes there was reason to separate children from one family, but surely to God not when they’d lost everything else. Mindful of the doctor in the room, he had to be careful what he said, so he just talked to the children, telling them who he was and of the home for Roman Catholic children not far from there at all. He asked them if they’d like to see it and after some thought, Katie nodded and Liam copied her.

  Doctor Havering was astounded and annoyed. He’d worked with these children for weeks, no months, and not got anything like the response this man had got in a few minutes. He couldn’t remember the children ever smiling at him or nodding to a question asked. ‘Take them away, Nurse,’ he barked at the attendant who’d brought them in, and Father Phillips saw the children jump at his harsh, loud voice.

  Liam, however, didn’t obey. Despite his fear of consequences, he launched himself at Father Phillips’ legs, wrapping his arms tightly around them like a vice. ‘Come, come now,’ the doctor said sharply, pulling at Liam in an attempt to dislodge him.

  ‘Leave him,’ rapped out Father Phillips. He shooed the nurse away and lifted Liam gently into his arms and felt his heart melt as the child, desperate for love in this terrifying world, wrapped his arms tight around him. ‘It’s all right, Liam,’ he whispered in the child’s ear without anyone else hearing the actual sounds. ‘I’ll come back soon.’

  It was a promise and one Liam recognised as such. He released his hold and Father Phillips placed him gently on the floor where he put his hand in the nurse’s without protest. The priest had made him a promise and he believed it. Katie knew the priest had said something to Liam that had consoled him in some way and that made her feel better as she followed her brother from the room. />
  Father Phillips left a worried man. The two children he’d visited had affected his heart in a strange way. He knew that well intentioned as the staff at the orphanage were, they were affecting the children with their attitudes. The sooner he removed them the better.

  He told Bridie only the bare bones of the visit, and none of his misgivings, but he stressed the fact that he thought that in his opinion the children would make a full recovery with lots of love and patience. Though he wasn’t a medical man, Bridie was comforted by his words.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Two days later, the children left the orphanage bound for Father Hudson’s Home. Father Phillips himself went to fetch them, knowing how unnerved they could be about yet another change in their lives.

  All the way, he talked to them, pointing out things of interest as they passed, and telling them of the children they’d meet at his orphanage.

  He wasn’t surprised at their lack of interest. He knew they hadn’t been happy at Oakengates. The staff had been hard working; not harsh or cruel, but to most of them it had just been a job and the children had sensed that.

  Doctor Havering had been upset they were leaving. He’d told the priest he thought himself a failure because of it. The priest knew that that had been part of the problem. The man thought of the children as some sort of case study to test out his theories and treatments, forgetting they were flesh and blood, little children with fears and worries of their own.

  No one had seemed to understand their grief when they’d arrived or had tried try to explain what had happened to their relatives. When their mother had turned up, she’d been viewed as an unwelcome intrusion to their work.

  He intended to bring the children together with their mother as soon as possible. Firstly though, the children had to be isolated until they had been examined by a doctor who was coming that afternoon.

  He pronounced them physically fit, though he commented on Katie’s small stature. Father Phillips himself had been surprised that she was so small, for she was barely as tall as her brother.

  ‘Not that she isn’t fit enough,’ the doctor said. ‘Rum do this not speaking, though I have heard of it before.’

  ‘And I,’ the priest agreed. ‘But this has gone on for some time already.’

  ‘Still, they’re young enough to get over it, I’d say. Time, that’s the thing.’

  ‘I thought to re-unite them with their mother as soon as possible to see if it helps,’ the priest said. ‘That’s who Katie takes after, I would imagine. She too is small and slight.’

  ‘They have a mother then?’ the doctor asked in some surprise.

  ‘Oh yes. A wonderful woman too,’ the priest said. ‘She was away from home at the time of the raid and came back to complete devastation. All the family dead but one young boy and no sign of her children. She thought them dead for a month until she met one of her old neighbours who’d seen the children taken away.’

  ‘Do they know she’s alive?’

  ‘No, she wasn’t allowed to see them in the last home for fear of upsetting them.’

  ‘Bunkum!’ the doctor said emphatically. ‘Plain daft idea. Get them together, Father. Buck them up better than anything, if you ask me.’

  Bridie was on her way to Coleshill the following morning with her cousin for support and Father Phillips met them at the door, with a smile. ‘They’re here and have settled well,’ he told them. ‘They’ve been examined by the doctor and proclaimed fit and well. I think it’s time for them to be re-united with their mother now.’

  Bridie felt her stomach lurch and suddenly her mouth was incredibly dry. This was what she’d longed for, prayed for, but now she was suddenly afraid. Oh God, if they should reject her, she thought. She’d never be able to cope with that. ‘Can I … Would you mind if I saw them alone?’

  ‘No,’ Father Phillips said. ‘I’ll have them brought up to the staff sitting room. It’s empty now – you’ll not want to meet them for the first time in an office.’

  Katie and Liam didn’t know where they were being taken or why. They didn’t protest, knowing there was no point. They seemed to have no control over anything that happened to them anymore. Father Phillips followed them into the room and dismissed the nurse who’d brought them. He bent down to their level and said, ‘Now there’s someone I want you to meet.’

  Katie suppressed a sigh. They were always meeting people, people who fired questions at them, or peered at them with frowning eyes, or shook their heads about them sorrowfully.

  ‘I think you’ll like this person,’ the priest said, and though Katie said nothing, she doubted it very much. When the priest left the room, she saw the fear on Liam’s face and reached out and held his hand tight.

  And that’s how Bridie saw them, her two wee, unhappy and confused children standing hand in hand. Her doubts and apprehensions fled. These were her own flesh and blood, her reason for living. She wanted to rush over and take them both in her arms, but knew she must proceed slowly.

  She watched as realisation dawned on the children. It was their mammy in the doorway, the mammy they’d thought to be dead, who had to be dead or she would have come for them. She was the woman at the fence who Katie thought she’d imagined.

  Now a million questions teemed in her brain, but she was unused to speaking and her mammy stood so still as if she were afraid. Liam was afraid too. She felt the shivering go all through his body. She wanted to squeeze his hand and tell him everything was all right.

  Liam, however, was past anything Katie could do. So many frightening things had happened in his young life and now here was the mammy he’d cried for at night when he’d been alone, and longed for every minute of the day, and she stood like a statue in the doorway, saying nothing. It was like his mammy had turned into a stranger.

  It was too much, the last straw, and with a cry, he dropped Katie’s hand and sank to the floor, tears streaming from his eyes, his whole body shaking.

  His action had unlocked the terror that had rooted Bridie to the spot and she went over and bent down to her small son, while her other arm encircled her daughter. She tried to turn Liam to face her, but he wouldn’t. He had his knuckles in his eyes and tears seeped between his fingers as he gave great gulping sobs.

  Katie felt tears pricking the back of her eyes and her throat becoming unaccountably tight. Bridie saw tears glisten on Katie’s lashes and wondered if she was doing any good coming here and upsetting her children like this.

  Father Phillips could have told her that the tears were a good sign, releasing the tension that for so long had stilled the children’s tongues. But Bridie didn’t know that. All she knew was that she wanted to hold her children, but Liam had curled himself into a defensive ball and Katie held herself stiffly in Bridie’s embrace.

  ‘Darlings, please,’ Bridie pleaded. ‘Please stop crying. Please let me explain everything to you.’ And then as the crying failed to ease she sighed, ‘Oh God! How I’ve searched for you.’

  Katie stared at her mother. What was she talking about? They weren’t lost.

  Bridie saw the look and though she didn’t fully understand it, she began to talk, telling them of hearing of the raid on the wireless in Ireland and the sights that greeted her when she returned. Father Phillips said they must be told the whole truth; much of it, he’d said, they would already have guessed but they deserved to be told of the death of their loved ones and be allowed to grieve for them.

  And so Bridie told them how she’d found Ellen and Sam and Mary dead and Mickey in hospital and no one could tell her what happened to Katie and Liam. Liam’s sobs eased as Bridie talked, for this was the mammy he remembered. Her voice was the same and he began to relax.

  Then Bridie said, ‘I thought you were buried under the rubble.’

  Liam gave a moan and a shudder passed through his whole body. He was back again in that inky black dust-filled space that he’d fallen into while the house above him creaked and groaned and bits kept falling into his face. He
couldn’t move either, for his legs were held fast by something.

  In all his life, he’d never been so scared, too scared even to cry. His hands had run over the ground around him, hoping against hope that he wasn’t there alone, that his aunt Mary was there and she’d make everything all right.

  But the hand he had connected with had been small and slight. ‘Katie,’ he had said, his throat husky with the dust, pleased he wasn’t alone. ‘I’m scared, Katie, and there’s dust down my throat and up my nose.’ He had begun to cough and couldn’t seem to stop until tears ran from his streaming eyes.

  Eventually the coughing had eased and Liam had run his sleeve over his eyes and nose and had said, ‘My throat’s sore, Katie and I don’t half want a drink.’

  ‘And me,’ Katie had said. ‘Try not to think of it. Can you come over to me? My hair’s caught somewhere at the back.’

  ‘I can’t, my leg’s stuck.’

  ‘Wriggle a bit, try and pull it out!’ Katie had said, as desperate for the feel of another person next to her as her brother was. Liam had tried, twisting this way and that, until the stack above him had tilted and more bits trickled down on him, including one large lump of wood which hit him squarely on the head and knocked him out.

  Katie had heard the thump and had called, ‘Liam, are you all right?’

  But there had been only silence and, horror struck, she had slithered over the ground towards her brother, nearly pulling her hair from its roots as it was held by a pile of debris.

  Liam had lain still, though she had pushed at him and spoken to him incessantly. He was dead, she had thought, and by telling him to wriggle and move, she’d killed him.

  That was what had rendered her speechless. And then she’d lain in the pitch black alone, but for her dead brother beside her, until rescue came some time later.

  The memories had come flooding back for her, too, and Bridie looked from her son to the bleached white face of her daughter and could only guess how much they’d suffered.