Much as I was intimidated by Ella’s husband, Dr O’Brien, I was determined to get the better of Gus Kelly. I saw what being fearful did to my mother and to Ella. I was determined that I would have the upper hand with Gus. There would be no giving up when the time came to tackle that bastard. I wanted to kill him. I planned and practised the act in my head. Of course, I knew it was murder. It was a means to an end. Gus Kelly needed to go and Charlie Quinn was the man to kill him.
It wasn’t hard to get Gus into the loft and even easier to push him onto the plough. That was the most satisfying thud. The nicest sound was the strange hiss he made as his breath left. Yes, I murdered Gus Kelly. I did it to take his wife, property and his position as Tom’s stepson. I never told a soul that before. There it is – I murdered Gus Kelly and do you know I’m rather proud of the whole thing. Isn’t that awful?
Olga possibly guessed – we never discussed it. I’d like to think that she loved me more for doing it. Tom might have suspected it too. He and Gus never got along. The men were scared sufficiently of me afterwards to do all the work given to them and I grew ten feet with the thoughts of getting away with it.
Why admit to it now, you may well ask? I want it to be known that Charlie Quinn is not a liar. All truths must come out – or none at all. I’m saying it for Olga’s sake too. Yes, she is still living. With all that is coming forward for my Ella, I want Olga to know that I killed for her. Olga is waiting on Kelly’s homestead in Canada. We are more friends than anything. Companions. She is more than used to me being away for months at a time and this trip was only something she raised an eyebrow to. There weren’t many questions. Olga has always thought that I wanted the land more than her, and that’s not strictly true. When Gus thumped off that metal, it was also to free us both to be together.
I wasn’t the best husband. Olga deserves to know that the man she married can take ownership of his past with her too. I’m dying and I don’t care if I rot in hell for that deed. I’ve not regretted it – not for one minute. I have many regrets. Gus Kelly’s death is not one of them. I’ll never need to atone for that crime. Never!
The unease is something I can taste. Taking a glance at the list, I know it is time to discuss the mystery around Ella.
‘I wish I could speak with Ella, before I answer any more questions and hand over the conversation we shared together.’
Rhonda is the one to answer me first although many open their mouths at the same time. ‘She sent a short message. I can give you the open note in her handwriting. She has asked for you to tell the truth.’
Closing out the people in the room, I open the folded paper and there is the swirled letters spelling out what she needs.
Dearest Charlie,
I’ve missed you more than words can say and I don’t know where to begin.
I want to thank you for coming to Ireland to tell the truth after all these years.
I never discussed my first two darling babies with you. They were stillborn. I couldn’t dwell on such things. When I fell pregnant with Maeve I was happy with you and I was always honest.
Our Maeve was born healthy and I feel in my heart that my husband, Dr Jeremiah O’Brien murdered her. He smothered her. I could not do such a thing. For many years now, his family have felt this too, and they have tried to help me.
Charlie, you are not to blame, there was nothing we could have done. All I need from you, my love, is that you tell the truth. Tell your truth and let the rest fall into place. There should be no more lies.
You are the love of my life – now and forever more,
Ella x
I go back to where we were our best. We are in my bed. She’s laughing at one of my stories and I have a hand over her mouth to quieten her down. We are young and happy.
Neither of us wanted the baby at the start. She thought that if she cared then the outcome would be bad. She didn’t want to be upset all over again. I wasn’t sure what it would all mean. Over time, I came to like the idea and the growing swell. I thought I would own someone. The baby would be mine and then after a bit of work Ella would be all mine too. Plans hatched as to how I would make this work.
For too long, I’d let other men, like my father and Jock, take charge of my happiness. I’d won Ella over and that had taken time and patience. If I worked hard then the best would come.
It didn’t seem wrong to follow Ella and watch over her. It didn’t seem wrong to imagine killing that bad husband and taking her away with me either. My plans to seduce Ella worked and the only thing was I had no notion of what was to come because of it.
The day Ella went into labour I panicked. Things were not ready for our escape. I had failed to fully admit to Ella that I was actively planning our flit from Ireland. Some things were organised for a few weeks’ time but the baby was coming. How I thought Ella would pop out a baby and then simply jump on a ship with me – I’ll never know. They were the immature thoughts I had.
Ella left my lodgings distressed for many reasons. I was being a child and she was having one. As soon as she had gone, I slunk after her, like I usually did. I was ashamed that I followed her home, and listened to all that was going on, and that I let bad things happen right under my nose. Whatever he was going to do, I left him to it. In all my tall tales I could never have dreamt up what he did next.
Confronting the good doctor was not in the plan. I didn’t do a very good job of it. I was a frightened child and he was a confident killer. He said awful things and I ran from the house, before I saw or held my own child.
I don’t think I need to spell it out what he must have done when I put my tail between my legs and scuttled away. The authorities say that the child was suffocated after birth. Ella had no reason to do such a thing. Even if she was capable of it, which she wasn’t, Ella was not able to do that. Jeremiah always threatened to destroy Ella. He was a person people believed, a man of prestige with a wealthy family. He had people around him who knew the law and how to bend it.
I know he died last year. I checked before I came back. He had no other children and I’m sure Ella saw her opportunity now to clear her own name. She hasn’t directly accused him and I wish that she did. It might seem strange to others that she doesn’t scream her accusations. But I see her plight with this. Ella knows what it is like to be accused of terrible things, and despite everything, without evidence, she cannot bring herself to do the same to him. I really want to have the proof she needs. I could say that I saw him harm our child. This would help us – but that would be more lies. I could say that I harmed our baby – and that would be untrue. Ella has asked me to do one last thing and that is to tell the truth – and I will honour her wishes.
Up until now, I have left large bits of my life open to interpretation. I needed to wait. I didn’t know what Ella might need me to do. I thought she would want me to finally come forward and lie. I was wrong. I suspected that she’d ask me to be untruthful about that day. Charlie Quinn has always been a good liar and if I could help Ella I would lie many times over.
I can’t do that now – not after that note.
I thought that she might let me shoulder the blame. I thought that she’d finally be protected, finally let me set her free from all of this. I’m a man who hid murders, a man capable of horrible things – one more despicable act, for my Ella, would have been okay in my books.
That’s not to be either.
I’ve come all of this way, and waited sixty years to tell the truth. And here it all is. I hoped to find proof about what her husband did. He never slipped up, and like my own father, he worked hard on making himself a more plausible man. A woman would not be believed. As the years passed it seemed less and less likely that the evidence would emerge. I thought if a rich Canadian rancher, with nothing to gain and everything to lose came back and said what Ella needed him to say then it all would work out. I thought that a good woman might be saved if a dying old cowboy came home and told his version of things. I’ve wanted nothing else for a long ti
me – I finally thought I’d get to ride in on my horse and save the woman I love.
I want to go back in time and see that day all over again. I want to know how to disprove that man who took everything from us. I don’t know how to destroy him without lying. Finally, I have done what Ella wants.
‘You know nothing more?’ Rhonda asks.
‘I hope that I’ve shown you the truth. That should be enough.’
56
Rhonda Irwin
Charlie is heading home to Canada and he must be exhausted for I am wrecked. Joe has been such a support. Charlie is all alone.
‘He’s used to it. Expected it,’ Joe says as we sit into a taxi. He takes my hand in his and Faye runs her fingers into my hair as she sits high on my lap.
‘Ella finally accused her husband. Isn’t it odd that she went through all of that and he wasn’t considered a suspect?’
‘Yes, it was the way things were,’ Joe says after telling the driver we want to go to the airport. ‘How sad that Charlie has to go back to Canada. He’ll have no time to spend with Ella now. Do you think they’ll ever see each other again?’
‘I doubt it. You know I cannot write about all of this. I’m not objective anymore,’ I admit. ‘I’m too close to it and it makes me emotional. I’d not do it justice.’
‘Let’s wait and see,’ Joe says. ‘I’m going to have no work leave left and with Faye going to the new childminder soon – you might get some headspace for it?’
‘Maybe.’
‘Unless we decide to get married and have another baby?’ Joe smiles. ‘Marry me, Rhonda?’
The driver coughs and Faye squeals to be let over onto Daddy’s knee. It’s the last thing I thought he’d say today of all days.
‘Do you mean it?’
‘Of course I do.’
‘Married?’
‘I should have asked you a long time ago.’
‘I love you, Joe.’
‘That will help. I love you too. Is it a yes then?’
‘Yes.’
Faye says, ‘Yes, yes, yes.’
Silently, I look into the traffic and thank Charlie Quinn.
57
Charlie Quinn
Ella has agreed to see me before my departure. Rhonda and Joe are embarrassed by the people staring at us. My photograph and some facts have been released to the media. I have promised to go to the Canadian authorities once I get off the plane I’m about to board.
Faye plays with the buttons on the jacket Rhonda gave me. Talking into Faye’s fine hair I say, ‘Thank you, precious, for beginning all of this. Without you I might not have found the strength to start.’ Turning to Rhonda I add, ‘I would not have managed to do all of this without you either. Thank you for putting up with me. I’ll be in touch when I get back.’ I look away when they shake my hand. There are no words left in me. I am watching my Ella get wheeled closer.
She’s pushed by the same nice lady.
There’s a flickering of hope that Ella will be vindicated and the relief is immense. The intern was found out as the snitch who sold the photograph of our meeting. We’ve been told that he has been let go. The company said too that they would like to start work with Rhonda soon on my story. The nice lady nods to Rhonda as they pass.
‘I’ve been listening to your account of things. I’m proud of you, Charlie,’ Ella says when we are parked together. The nice lady pretends not to listen as Ella leans closer. ‘I was glad you agreed that I could listen to the tapes. I love hearing your voice.’
‘They said I could get a copy of yours too – when you do them. I’ll need the distraction if they lock me up. Did they tell you about me murdering a man? I’m hoping I have a long trial as the size of the cells frightens me.’
‘We don’t have much time. Let’s talk about nice things,’ she says.
Ella’s dress is a lovely shade of red under the navy cardigan. Her hair is tied back from her face, just how I like it. She’s had her nails painted to match her dress. I kiss those fingertips. Our fingers wind around each other and we sit like this for a good long time. Precious moments go too quickly. I cannot lose her all over again, but it is happening.
‘At least we have a chance to say goodbye this time,’ I add.
Ella rubs the back of my hand. ‘Thank you, Charlie. Thank you for loving me enough to come back. Thank you for trying to help.’
‘It just took me sixty years.’
‘That doesn’t matter. You did what you could, that’s all that matters. And look what happened to you because of it? Canadian and Irish police? Is all of that necessary?’
‘I warned them that I wouldn’t make it easy. I told them that a wily old cowboy might be hard to lasso if he escaped. Anyhow, I know Olga will enjoy thinking that I’m a wanted man. She’s always liked the movies and drama.’
Ella giggles.
‘It’s true though. I’m not sure how I’ll leave you again. They may have to drag me away.’
‘This is hard.’
‘I should have stayed quiet. We might have been able to be together if I lied some more. I thought you’d at least let me save you with the bits of my stories. I would do anything for you. I should have said I saw Jeremiah do it.’
‘There have been enough lies.’
‘If you weren’t bothered by a few more, we might have had a chance to be together for longer. I did what you asked and now I’m summoned back to Canada.’
‘Thank you for everything.’
‘Will you visit?’ I ask, already knowing the answer. ‘I’d like you to meet Olga and to see the prairies.’
She shakes her darling head and dabs at those beautiful eyes.
‘You could lie and tell me that you’ll try to come.’
‘I can’t.’ Her tears are flowing now, making her embarrassed.
‘I have always thought of Maeve,’ I admit, starting to cry too. ‘And my love for you has never ended and it never will.’
‘It was lost to us both for a long time.’
We agree by holding tightly to each other. I can smell her hair, sense the sadness and I cannot cope with it. ‘I’m glad that people know more about what happened. It was worth it,’ I say to try to make sense of things.
‘It is time to say goodbyes now. You’ll need to go through to departures,’ the nice lady says. ‘We’ll look after her, Charlie. Did Ella tell you who I am?’
I search Ella’s face for clues.
The nice lady extends a hand and leans on my arm. ‘I am one of the O’Brien family’s legal team. For quite some time there’s been upset in O’Brien circles about the way Ella was treated. The present generation wants to put things right. We will do all that we can to help clear Ella’s name.’
‘The O’Brien’s knew the truth all along? They knew?’
‘The family did more for Ella than many people realise,’ she replies. ‘They always hoped that Dr O’Brien might come forward, as you have done. There was a hope that he would have told the truth. Unfortunately, he did not oblige. I want to let you know that we believe you both.’
‘It gives me great relief to know that Ella has people who will protect her. Look after my darling.’
Ella lets go of my hand. I cannot bear it. I lean shakily forward to kiss the lips I adore.
One.
Last.
Time.
We are back on my bed – just like we were.
‘I love you,’ I tell her.
Ella smiles. ‘You are the love of my life, Charlie Quinn – now and forever more.’
THE END
Author’s Note
The Quiet Truth is based on actual historical events. During the research, I found information on the British Home Children in Canada, and women convicted of infanticide in Ireland. Every author likes to feel that their research is good, and I tried to be accurate. Any errors are unintentional or used for fictional effect.
Charlie Quinn was inspired by a man who came into my life as a child. He, like Charlie, came home to
Ireland after sixty mysterious years in the Canadian Rockies. With very little known about his life, this gentle man took me for a walk up the road. My storyteller father inspires a great deal of my work and when he sparked off this memory, the totally fictional Charlie Quinn was born.
While looking into Canadian history, I found that over a hundred thousand children were sent right across Canada to be used as indentured servants from the mid 1800s - 1900s. Canadians thought that they were orphaned children, but only a small percentage were. However well-intentioned this process was supposed to be, the majority of children’s lives were full of ill-health, neglect, abuse and sometimes death. A life in Canada was supposed to be an appealing option for parents who were struggling with poverty or difficult circumstances. Yet, these children were sent alone, or were separated from their siblings. Some were adopted and accepted into loving families, but many were deeply traumatised and never spoke about their childhoods. The British Home Children, and those like them, have their own quiet truth.
This novel also covers the past of Ella O’Brien, a fictional convicted child murderer in 1930s Ireland. I was shocked that infanticide, or the murder of children by their mother, was more prolific than I imagined. I suppose mercy was shown when most of the women sentenced to death in Ireland were given a reprieve. Some were released into the care of religious orders and many were tried without the presence of a body, and on the say so of family members and neighbours. Incredibly, in most cases, the fathers are also missing from the records and trials. I deliberately wanted this novel told from a man’s perspective for this very reason.
Thank you for reading The Quiet Truth and I would be most grateful if you could leave a review.
Acknowledgements
The Quiet Truth: a haunting domestic drama full of suspense Page 19