by Mick Moran
“How did he know about Martin being involved in the IRA?”
That was the question that Joe was hoping would not be asked. It was he that made Dave aware of Martin’s past, or what he thought he knew of Martin’s past. But, he had no wish to talk about that.”
“I don’t know,” he answered, shaking his head.
Teresa didn’t pursue it. Relieved Joe moved the conversation on. “Do you know how Martin is now,” he asked
“Yes. I went to see him yesterday. He’s much better. He says he feels fine now. He’s even talking of going back to work. He’s certainly much improved, but,” Teresa shook her head. “I think he’s a long way off being ready for work. He still looks frail to me and he has a bandage on his head. He said jokingly that no one would see it with his cap on. At least he’s got his sense of humour back.”
“Maybe the bandage will be removed soon. A doctor I talked to said he was very pleased with his progress and that he could be discharged anytime. The problem is where to send him. He could go to a convalescent home, but Martin wants to go back to his old lodging house, ‘Mary’s’. He promised her that he’d be back he said.”
”I told him not to worry about that: Mary would understand. I think I told you that I met Mary when I was up there. She’s a lovely woman and, I’ve no doubt, she would welcome him back, but there’s a question of the suitability of the place. It’s a rough and ready house for working men. Martin needs somewhere more restful, for a while anyway.”
Chapter 21. Sadness and Joy
He wouldn’t be told
Martin returned to Mary’s lodging house where he was warmly welcomed. She saved his room for him, just as he left it. He was pleased about that. He wanted things to be as normal as possible.
Henry wanted to have a big celebration for him in the club, but Martin would have none of that. It wasn’t his way. Even when well wishers called to see him, although he expressed his gratitude and was polite, he once told Mary that he would have preferred it if they didn’t bother. He wanted no fuss.
Mary, however, did fuss over him. He said he was fine, but Mary could see that he was far from it. He had lost weight and lacked his normal healthy glow. She made special meals for him when the other lodgers were at work. “You need feeding up,” she said.
Martin was appreciative of what she was doing, but hated being in that situation. “You shouldn’t be treating me any different from the others,” he told her. “It’s no bother.” She said.
She knew what he really wanted was to get back to work, but they both knew he wasn’t ready. “In your kind of work,” she told him “you’d die from the cold.” It was April, but still very cold. He couldn’t disagree. “But don’t worry, ”she said reassuringly, “we’ll soon have you fit and when the weather gets warmer you can think about work.”
Martin's health did improve, somewhat. That summer he even returned to work. John Mountin found him a light job, brewing up etc: not what Martin wanted but clearly all he was capable of. Even that, however, was too much for him. He had to give it up when his health again deteriorated. His health never recovered and a year after that cowardly assault Martin died.
The news of Martin’s death saddened everyone that knew him. His funeral was the best they'd seen around there for years. He got a fine send off.
During the funeral Mass Father Downey read a beautiful and informative eulogy, much of which was written by Teresa Kelly. She couldn't be there herself because of a school inspection. The priest was happy to read it because as he said, "it cleared up a terrible misunderstanding about Martin." He was aware that although almost everyone that got to know Martin liked and respected him, there was still some whispering about his past.
Included in the eulogy was the letter Seamus Cox sent from America, which was read in full.
The congregation was delighted to hear it. It dispelled any lingering doubts they had about Martin. "But why," many asked afterwards, "had we not heard this many years ago?" Why did he have to die first?"
Maybe that's life.
After the funeral all were invited to Nora’s pub. Henry organized that and Nora provided sandwiches for everyone. “The least I could do for Martin,” she said. It was a fine celebration of his life. Stories were told about happy experiences about working or socializing with Martin. He certainly made a big impression on all that knew him and many travelled long distances to be there.
Andy Horan came all the way from Birmingham, taking time off work- time he could barely afford- to do so. The decision to come was a difficult one, but one that he would never regret.
That weekend his life was changed forever. He again stayed at Maggie’s. Her sister, who’s lodging house he was then living in, arranged it. He was apprehensive about returning to Maggie’s. Her house was no longer a lodging house and he knew that she was unhappy about the way he had left her at such short notice.
He needn’t have worried. He arrived at about two o’clock on Thursday, the day before the funeral, and was pleasantly surprised at how happy Maggie was to see him. She put her arms around him and gave him a big hug. Probably sensing his anxiety she told him, “Andy you’ll always be welcome here.”
That wasn’t all. She had a much bigger surprise for him. “Take your coat off and sit down,” she said. “Wait ‘till you see who else I’ve got here.” She left the room.
Still anxious, Andy didn’t sit down. He listened to the boards of the stairs squeaking as Maggie climbed them. “Mary,” he heard her call. “Are you up?”
Mary? Andy’s ears pricked up. Could it be? He couldn’t hear a reply. No. He dismissed the thought. There are lots of Marys. Wishful thinking. He must stop dreaming. Still his heart was pounding as he listened to the stairs being descended and Maggie’s saying, “The man you’ve been asking about is here.”
Then he saw her, Mary Prendergast, smiling and looking radiant.
“Andy!” She exclaimed.
. Andy opened his mouth, but no words came out. He just stood agape as Mary rushed to him and threw her arms around him. “Wh.. wh.. when did you come,” he stuttered when released.
“This morning, in the early hours. I’ve been to bed. I’ve just got up.”
“You look great.”
“So do you.”
Maggie smiled. Was there love in the air? Her matchmaking skills would not be spared in the next few days. “I can see there’s no need for introductions,” she said.
“We were neighbours,” explained Andy.
I, thought Maggie and maybe a little bit more than that. “ Do you know what’s happening Andy?” she asked.
“No.” He’d almost forgotten what he was there for.
“Well, they’re taking the body to the church at seven o’clock this evening, and the funeral Mass is at eleven tomorrow.”
“Thank you Maggie. Where will I be sleeping?”
“In the same room as you had before.” She might have added, I couldn’t let anyone else have it. “Take your stuff up when you’re ready. I’ll be making a meal later, but, for now, I’ll make a sandwich. You must be hungry, and you Mary.”
“Don’t go to too much trouble.”
“No
trouble. No trouble at all.”
“Can I help?” asked Mary.
“No. Stay there and talk to Andy. I’m sure you’ve a lot to catch up on.”
“Alone with Mary, Andy was still almost speechless. Although trilled, the situation seemed unreal; like in a fairytale; a dream come true. It was even better than in his dreams. Mary had been asking about him and was clearly overjoyed to see him. Sad as it was about Martin this was a funeral Andy would enjoy.
“I.. di..didn’t know you were coming.” Andy was stuttering and felt awkward.
Mary, however, was relaxed. “My father couldn’t leave my mother, or the farm,” she said. “I’m the next best.”
Andy smiled. He wished to tell her how delighted he was that it was her that came. Instead he asked, “How is your mother?”
“Not good.” She didn’t elaborate but went on to say, “I met your mother the other day. She’s great, and the family. She didn’t know if you’d be able to make it to the funeral, but she sent her love anyway.”
Mary went on to tell all the news about back home. Of course Andy knew most of it already. His mother in her letters had kept him well informed, but he let her carry on. Hearing her voice again was like the sweetest music to his ears. He soon felt at ease. In fact he never felt happier. In the next few days he would enjoy Mary’s company.
Then sadness came over him when he thought that in a few days it would all end, probably forever.
Not if Maggie could help it.
Maggie returned with a plate of sandwiches, which she placed on a little table. “Help yourselves to a sandwich.” She said. “I’ll go and get the tea. Oh! I forgot to tell you Andy. They want you to be a bearer. When you’ve had a sandwich you should have a walk over to Mary’s; find out the details.”
“I’ll do that.” Andy agreed. Then, turning to Mary, Maggie said, “go with him if you like Mary. He can show you around; introduce you to people.”
“I’d like that.”
***
“The sun is shinning,” observed Maggie as Mary and Andy set off. “Take her through the park Andy. It’ll be a nice walk.”
He did. It was not the shortest route, but he had no wish to hurry the journey. On that bright spring afternoon the park was at it’s best: blossoms on the trees, daffodils in bloom, and the birds were singing.
“There’s no rush is there?” asked Mary as they approached a bench.
“No rush at all.” They both sat on the bench. The bench was facing a little pond in which ducks were swimming. Still lost for words Andy was staring at the pond when Mary nudged him. “I should be annoyed with you Andy,” she said. “You never wrote to me.”
“I wanted to. I just didn’t know if I should.”
“Of course you should have.”
“Andy silently pondered her words. Then Mary turned to him. “I missed you Andy,” she said.
“I missed you too.”
Absence, it’s said, makes the heart grow fonder. For Mary and Andy that was certainly true. In the next few days no opportunity to be together was missed. They tried not to make their feelings for each other obvious to Maggie, but there was no fooling her. She saw what was going on- she’d have to be blind not to- and it delighted her. She liked Andy and could see how happy Mary made him. The made such a lovely couple. Then she thought with a sigh, life is so hard. Soon they must part.
Was there something she could do? She thought about it long and hard. Then a plan formed in her head. At the first opportunity she put it to them.
“I can see you two get on well,” she told them. It was Saturday evening and Mary and Andy had spent the day in each other’s company. Another time Andy would have resented Maggie’s interference, but not then, even when she went on to ask, “What are your plans for the future?”
They both shook their heads. Andy could see no way forward.
Maggie could.
“Wouldn’t it be nice if you both lived here,” she said. They both nodded, unsure where she was going, although Andy was starting to guess. Looking at Mary Maggie went on “you finish school soon Mary?”
“College,” Mary corrected. “Yes. I finish this spring.”
“What are your plans then?”
“I’m not sure. I’d like to train to be a nurse. Castlebar is the nearest hospital. It a long way from us and I’m not sure if I could get in there anyway. There are some vacancies, but there are lots of applicants for each job.”
Maggie’s eyes lit up. It was just what she wanted to hear. “You’d have no trouble getting in here,” she said. “If that’s what you want to do. The hospitals here are crying out for nurses.”
“That’s interesting.”
“Think about it Mary.” Maggie turned to Andy. “And you Andy, you’d have no trouble finding work around here if you wanted to come back. I’ve heard the building trade is picking up too. I saw you talking to John Mountin. I’m sure he’d find you work.”
“Yes. He said he would.”
“Well there you are.” Maggie turned back to Mary who was pondering what she was just told. Maggie didn’t give her time to sit on it. “The hospital is just a short bus ride away. I was a nurse there myself. I’ll take you there Monday: show you around; see what you think.”
“I’m going back Monday.”
“Can you delay it until Tuesday?”
“I would if I could let my parents know. They’ll be worried if I’m not there when I said I would be.”
“Yes. I understand. O K. Never mind. Instead, if you like, I’ll get you an application form and post it to you.”
“That would be great.”
It all went, more or less, to plan. Within a couple of months Mary was training to be a nurse at the hospital and living at Maggie’s. Andy also moved up to the area, but he stayed at Mary’s lodging house. Maggie didn’t think it right that they both stay under the same rook until they were married.
That wouldn’t be long. Within a couple of months they announced their engagement and were making plans for their wedding, which was sooner than they had originally planned. They planned to wait a year and then to be married by Father Downey in Broadfield. Then, thinking ahead, they realized that it would be difficult for Andy’s mother to attend and impossible for Mary’s parents. Mary’s mother, in spite of her failing health, expressed a wish to be at her only daughter’s wedding.
They returned to their home village to get married in their local church.
It was a beautiful wedding and the church was full. All the neighbours were there. There were no invitations, just the word put around that anyone that wised to come would be very welcome.
Andy looked happy and the bride was beautiful. But, there was sadness too. The wedding date had been brought forward and everyone knew why. Mary’s mother was there, but was so weak that it must have taken a supreme effort on her part.
In the circumstances there was no reception party and no honeymoon, but those could wait.
A week later Mary’s mot
her died. It was a sad occasion, but Mary was pleased that, at least she was there, and during that week was able to make full use of her nursing skills.
After the funeral Mary’s father told them to, “Go off and enjoy themselves.” He would have liked Mary, his only child, to stay with him on the farm. The farm would belong to her: her and Andy. But, he knew that was not what they wanted and he would not stand in their way. In the future, who knows?
Back in England, Maggie gave them the house and she moved into a little bungalow nearby. She got on well with Mary and thought the world of Andy. “Who else could I give it to?” she asked.
There was, of course her sister in Birmingham. He sister still expected Maggie to come and live with her and disapproved of Maggie giving away the house, but Maggie would not be dissuaded.
***
Dave Campbell was sentenced to fifteen years in prison for his part in the murder of Michael O'Malley and for the attempted murder of Martin Prendergast. Martin's death, which occurred after the trial was over, has prompted calls for that prison time to be increased.
None of Dave's so called friends were anywhere to be seen. They all disappeared, no longer wishing to be associated with him.
Tommy got eight years for the murder of Michael O’Malley. Alan got just three years because he fully cooperated with the police. The evidence he gave helped to put Dave Campbell away.
The Irish civil war ended soon after the death of Jimmy Casey. Although some sores were slow to heal most people just wished to put that terrible period behind them.
No one was ever charged with Jimmy's murder. It was seen as just another unfortunate incident that happened during that shameful period.
Both Ted Foley's and Michael Keane's participation ended then. It had all been too much for Michael. He was happy to return to a quiet life on his farm. Not so for Ted though. After a period of lying low he got involved in politics and soon was a well-known figure in the new Irish Free State.
The End
From the author:
Thanks for reading this book. I hope you got enjoyment from it. I certainly enjoyed writing it. Much of the book is based on my own experience. I grew up on a small farm in the West of Ireland and came to England as a teenager. I spent many years working on building sites and living in cheap lodging houses. The work was hard, but the craic, as they say, was good.
Mick.
P S I will welcome any feedback.