‘I didn’t want you healing and making Richard look incompetent. It stung me to see an uneducated child doing so well. I’m sorry, but it did hurt me a lot. I had to listen to it everywhere I went and I let it in.’
‘Peggy was the same. The other girls in the house didn’t like me. They complained to her all the time. She listened in the finish. Peggy hated that she needed me. I see that now. She never really forced me to do anything and she tried to care… as best as she could.’
‘You forgave me in a heartbeat. I was grateful.’
‘There wasn’t much to forgive. You gave me so much. Like Peggy you did your best for me. It wasn’t easy.’
We both sip our sherry. I hear Fionn battering something in the kitchen and calling for Jane. There’s a crash and loud curse. Both of us giggle.
‘She might not want to see me. Peggy is a proud woman,’ I think aloud. ‘When can I go?’
‘I’ll write back and see.’
‘Thank you, Violet. Richard would be glad to see us like this.’
‘Yes, he would. Indeed he would.’
58
My Peggy is hunched over the bare table with her hair tied back. I enter the big tiled room. She has been taken over to the convent nearby, as we’re not allowed in the asylum itself. Jane is at my elbow, tugging at my sleeve. Determined she wanted to come but sorry she bothered now with the reality of it all. She was all cursing and brazen on the train, and now all meek and concerned. Violet had seen us off with Fionn waving in delight at having the cottage, Jude and Violet all to himself.
Peggy’s hair is almost brown again. ‘Mousey brown,’ she would say in disgust. She doesn’t take in that there are people coming towards her until we block her light. It comes from the large windows all around the room.
‘Molly?’ she whispers, her lips looking dry and her face pale. She has lost weight and looks tired but not unwell. Her air is clean and the angels are weeping that we’re together again. Jane coughs and extends her hand. ‘Hullo. I’m Jane O’Shea.’
Peggy stands and takes Jane’s hand. ‘Hello, Jane O’Shea. I like your navy hat.’ Jane blushes and goes to sit on the well-used chair with the noisy metal legs. ‘Look at you, Molly.’
Is she still strong despite it all? She seems it.
‘I thought you might have died,’ Peggy says. ‘You fell off the face of the earth. They told me you were in a place like this. I cry every night thinking of us both in places… like this.’
I sit on the edge of the chair nearest me and hold on tightly to the short strap of my bag. I can’t decide what Peggy is wearing. It is like a sack. A dress maybe? But it seems to have legs or is it just stuck to her? It is cold in here and she has started to shiver a little. I take off my gloves and hold them out to her as she sits too.
‘She is not a talker,’ Peggy says at Jane. ‘Where are you from then?’
‘Sligo, Mrs Sheeran.’
‘And what brings you here?’ She means us both, but says it to Jane. ‘How come you look a damn sight better than me? Where have you been, Molly?’
‘Sligo, Mrs Sheeran,’ I say with a smile.
‘Did you hear all about the Peggy Sheeran who was running all of Dublin and then lost it all?’
‘Yes. The papers told us most of it.’
Jane starts off stammering over how the whole of Ireland was rooting for Peggy and of how great it was to see a woman doing so well. She stops when she gets to the murdering and the crimes and stumbles over her words and comes to a stop. I watch Peggy and think she is the lowest I’ve ever seen her. Even in the gaol, she had a confidence that soaked into me. She had enough of it to share. Now she needs some of mine as she lets the mask fall.
‘I was great, all right. A fine arse I was! I dreamed too big.’ She rubs her arms. They are sore. I reach out and notice there are marks on them. Long red welts. I hold them. She lets me take the soreness away and rubs them when I’m finished.
‘She’s a healer,’ Jane says. ‘Didn’t you know?’
‘I did not.’
‘A famous one at that. She sees angels too. Don’t you, Molly? Well, shadows that we all know are her angels. Are they here now?’ Jane says squinting around. ‘Imagine you not knowing about her gifts.’
‘There is much I don’t know.’
‘We probably don’t have long here,’ I tell Peggy. Those sad eyes meet mine and she cries inside. I hear it. ‘I paid them to let us in. You are being held on serious charges. They are convinced that you’re one of the worst mad women in the country.’
‘Don’t I know it! I’m not guilty of half of it. They threw everything, bar the kitchen sink, at me!’
Jane half-laughs in nerves and fear.
‘There’s no way you’re getting out like last time,’ I tell her.
‘You’re talking a bit more now.’
‘You need to get to Grangegorman or Portrane.’
‘Why?’
‘There’s more chance of getting you out of there. What happened to your arms?’ I ask her, knowing they slapped her for not agreeing to some sort of treatments they want to give her.
‘They beat me. It’s worse than the gaol. I need out. I need to be free.’ Peggy grabs my hands then. ‘Get your angels to loosen the locks and get me out.’ She shakes me a little and laughs. It sounds a bit hollow and cruel. I can’t blame her. ‘You are so different. You are more normal.’
‘Thank you.’
‘But if you continue to talk about angels and shadows in here – they’ll try all sorts to stop ya!’
‘Molly has been through a lot too,’ Jane says as the door opens and someone shouts about us having a few more minutes.
‘I’m keeping the gloves,’ Peggy says. ‘Why did you come?’
‘I want you to know that I’ll make this all go away.’
Peggy shrugs and her shoulders stay there. She falls forward again onto the table. Her hands go into her hair and she moans and starts to cry. ‘I killed a woman,’ she sobs and Jane’s hands go over her own mouth. ‘I don’t deserve anything. I killed that poor woman,’ Peggy says.
‘It was an accident. The angels tell me you didn’t mean it.’
Peggy jolts up to see me. ‘I shot a man through the heart.’ I can tell she is looking for a confession of all the wrongs and we don’t have time for that.
‘He would have done the same to you, Peggy. Now listen, there is a parcel for you, too, that they’ve promised to give you later. Clothes, soap, cigarettes and some chocolate. I’ve made sure you will get it. Jane has asked around and we think we might have found some people open to helping us get you out to Portrane. St Ita’s. It will take time to arrange.’
She slops back into the hard chair. ‘The only way I’ll get out is in a box!’
‘You don’t need to die, but you might need to bleed enough to get to the hospital or the infirmary here and then on to St Ita’s.’ I reach out and show her my healed arms. ‘I’ve used the method before.’
Peggy’s eyes are wide and they sparkle a little for the first time.
Jane whispers, ‘Molly heals bleeding you see.’
‘We’ll need to see where and what we can use to get you away and out.’
‘I’ll be chained to a bed no matter how near death I am. There is no way they’ll let me just walk out of a hospital. No way that they’ll take the likes of me, somewhere easy to get out of.’
‘It will take time… and money,’ I start and then Peggy laughs and she laughs on. Jane pulls at my sleeve like she wants to leave as I go on. ‘I know you used to say all this to me and I didn’t wait. But if you can wait, we can sort something…’
‘I don’t deserve out of here. I’m bad to the bone.’
‘Stop that!’ I tell her. ‘I see the good air in people and you are full of it.’
‘Pah!’
The door opens and there’s a man in uniform beckoning us to leave.
‘You are a good soul, Peggy. I’ll be back to you. Just have patience.’
> ‘I’m glad you came despite your silly talking. Are you well?’
‘I’ve got Fionn.’
Peggy’s head falls forward and we can hear her cry. The man moves the door and it creaks loudly.
‘We’ve got to go,’ Jane pulls on my arm. ‘Coming, sir. Yes, coming.’
‘Don’t come back for me,’ Peggy mutters. ‘Don’t. You are free now, little one. Free as a bird. Want more, Molly, but don’t want too much. This is what it gets you.’
I hold her gloved hand but she doesn’t respond and turns away from us.
‘I’ll be back, Peggy. Give me time. I’ll be back.’
‘Goodbye,’ Jane says, but Peggy doesn’t move and says nothing. We have to walk away. The man on the door closes us away from her with a big bang.
59
I’m back in Dublin in a few days, looking into ways of getting Peggy out of where she is. No-one wants to talk or think of the once great Peggy Sheeran. I know not to ask out loud for what I am after. The shop on the street facing the square has changed ownership. There is no sign of Tess or any of the people I would’ve known. The doctor who visited number 34 seems to have disappeared himself and this makes me sad. I’m worried for him and his creaking knees and hope he spent my money wisely.
St Ita’s is a grey place when I take a look at it. Lovely gardens and a laundry as well as fields for milking cows. There’s a bustle about the place but the walls aren’t good for me to be near. Peggy can’t stay long here, if she comes at all. My impatience is high and I wish over and over that Dr Brady’s brain was helping me figure this out.
Home on the train the shadows and I have a long time to think and worry. I hope that our plans will help Peggy and not make things worse.
‘Maybe you shouldn’t even try,’ Jane whispers. ‘If Violet knew she’d explode.’
‘I know I’m possibly walking myself into more bother.’
‘Exactly. You have Fionn and Jude to think of, never mind Violet’s wrath. Someone like that Peggy might not even be grateful and where can she go? Her face is known everywhere.’
‘America maybe? I’ve always felt a draw to the ocean.’
‘How have you never been to the seaside?’ Jane takes off her apron. ‘Let’s be brave and let Violet drive us all to the beach. It is Saturday and Jude needs away from those books and we all need the wind in our lungs.’
Violet finds it hard to start the engine, blaming the ‘clutch and the choke’ and swerves a little when she sees an oncoming car. The whole way out the road all I can see is Peggy. Fionn loves moving so fast and screeches loudly. No-one tells him to stop. There is no daddy to complain about his aching head and no mammy to hate someone else getting attention or being happier than her. Aunt Bredagh’s not talking about all the work to be done in the house, or all the money we are missing by taking off an afternoon. There is no Vincent in the corners of my mind any more.
‘Are you thinking of Luca?’ Jane shouts back to me over the noise.
‘I’m thinking of everyone.’
I’ve come a long way. The angels tell me that I’ve worked hard at talking and being brave. They tell me every day that I’m growing in strength and they are proud of me. It helps. Without them, I couldn’t have survived. I still couldn’t. I trust in them that they will find a way for me to be truly happy. I have to trust them, they have taken me this far.
‘Look,’ Jude shouts. An incline down a ragged lane appears and above the drystone walls is the sea. As far as the eye can follow into the distance – is water. I roll down the window and breathe. ‘I’m back,’ I tell the beautiful monster opening its mouth over and over onto the sand. ‘Fionn, look it’s the sea.’
Fionn and Jude build in the sand and Jane, Violet and I walk arm in arm a good distance across the shore. We don’t have to speak and only occasionally mention the beauty around us and how we should come more often.
Fionn waves a sandy hand at us on our return journey but Jude is busy making a large tower. I take off my sandy shoes and dig my bare feet into the damp coarseness. The breeze is almost cold. My hair flies out behind me and I simply watch and smell the waves.
‘Are you happy now?’ Jane asks me.
‘If Peggy…’
‘Ah now she didn’t worry too much about you,’ Jane says. I thought she might have been more sympathetic when she saw where she was but Jane is harsh in her thinking at times. ‘She didn’t rescue you now did she?’ she finishes.
‘I miss her and Luca too.’
‘Richard should be here,’ Violet dabs at her nose.
‘He is here,’ I tell them.
A big seagull’s feather floats down to land at my feet. I pick it up and dust off the sand and put it into the pocket of my coat.
The drive home is a sombre one. Fionn is sleeping with his head on the basket we didn’t take anything out of as the rain came on. Jude hums a tune and watches the countryside flit past. Jane’s eyes are closing but she is afraid to fully trust Violet’s driving and jolts awake. I’m so gloomy and I’m not sure if it is leaving the ocean, car-sickness or something worse. It lasts in me all the way until Tuesday morning when Jane runs in with the day-old paper.
‘FUCK!’ she roars up the hall from the kitchen to where I’m emptying the grate in the parlour. ‘Molly? LOOK!’ She shakes the paper at me and pushes it under my nose. There under my nose is a photograph of Peggy from the ambassador’s residence all that time ago.
‘What is the matter?’ I ask. ‘I can’t read it.’
Jane pants with the run from the gate at meeting the postman and from running to find me.
‘It’s Peggy,’ Jane shouts. ‘She has escaped! It must’ve happened a few days ago. This paper is old.’
I sit onto Dr Brady’s favourite chair and ask Jane to read me the entire piece. There are a whole plethora of old words about how bad she is and what she did to the men of Dublin. It is near the end of that the lines I’m waiting on appear: ‘When the head count was done in St Ita’s in the early hours of Friday morning last, it revealed that the asylum was missing three highly dangerous individuals. Two were re-captured as they were found dancing in the Gresham Hotel, but Peggy Sheeran née Bowden is still at large. The authorities ask people to be vigilant. They have requested that the general public do not assist or provoke Ms Sheeran. They are following several lines of enquiry.’
‘May the Lord keep us safe,’ Jane mutters blessing herself. ‘And there’s more on the next page. There is to be an investigation into how she managed to get out and how no-one saw her in the Gresham or since. How did she manage it?’
‘Peggy always had a way of surviving.’
‘She didn’t wait long on you. Thank the saints she didn’t! And why couldn't she tell you?’
‘I don’t think she’d thought of escape, until we mentioned it.’
‘YOU mentioned it! I wouldn’t have the stomach for that. I wonder how she got out of that place? With all those people and walls? She is some lassie!’
Jane goes off calling for Violet to tell her the news. I watch the dust dance in the sunlight and know that Peggy is dancing somewhere pretty. It makes me happy to think that she is.
60
Violet blows on her porridge to cool it while Fionn is making a mess of his. The tablecloth is getting a dirtying and it is paining Violet to watch it. Yet, I can’t give out to Fionn. I’m far too soft and I know I am.
‘No letters?’ Violet asks to distract herself. ‘From London?’
‘No.’
‘It has been a good while now since that poor lad told you of his undying love and said he wished to marry.’
‘It has.’
‘Molly, what did you reply? Are you staying here? I can’t think of you leaving. I know you’ll be trying to do the healing soon. I see you shaking your hands more and more.’
‘I can wait.’
‘Do you know where this Peggy woman is? Everyone thinks you do. It wasn’t long after your visit. The whole place knows you went to
Dublin.’
‘I don’t know where she is.’
Violet knows that I don’t lie much and she is hoping I’m being honest now.
‘I don’t know where she is.’ I say it again and take another slice of bread. Fionn wants one, too, and grunts at me for mine. ‘I think she went over the ocean.’
‘London? I hope not. You need to be free of the past!’
‘I’ve no idea. Maybe America? New York, where the papers say her grandfather came back from?’
Violet sighs with relief then breathes deeply and asks, ‘Do you want to go back to this Luca?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘I want you to be happy of course…’
‘I have to wait.’
I don’t often mention my shadows or friends to Violet. She doesn’t approve and tuts a bit. There is a silence that you could cut with a knife. They have told me to be patient and quiet so many times over the last few weeks. I’m not used to being quiet nowadays.
‘Fionn tires you out,’ I say.
Violet laughs at that and nods her greying head. ‘He makes himself at home here.’
Fionn wipes butter all across the white table cloth. Violet snaps up and over to get the toast and taps his hand with a loud smack.
He doesn’t cry but holds his little hand aloft at me. I kiss it better and sigh. Violet cares and only wants him to behave. I can hear and see Mammy when I go disciplining him and I stop immediately. Fionn will need a Jane and Violet if he is ever going to have manners.
‘People have been calling to the front door looking for healing,’ Violet grunts at me. ‘I sent them into the surgery. That young lad is staying up the road but really he should be moving in here if he buys the practice. It would make sense.’
‘Sell Violet Cottage?’
‘It is not the same since Richard died. I see him everywhere. In his chair in the parlour. In the garden, smoking his pipe in the kitchen to make me cross and having a cream bun with Jane.’
The Healer: a dark family drama Page 20