Henry spent the rest of the day searching for Violet. He returned and went to the hospital to see Sylvia. Betsy was sitting beside her, giving her some soup. They would collect her when the doctor was sure she was stable. Though they had her sectioned off from the other wards, it would still be hazardous for her if the outbreak got worse.
Suddenly it all became too much. Henry went to speak but could not. He fell on his knees beside the bed, crying. Slowly Sylvia sat up and reached for him. She put her small arms around him. He hugged her tightly as if his life depended on it.
CHAPTER 19
There were door-to-door searches, the woods were searched for days, the guards brought in dogs and searched from morning till night. Henry was brought in for questioning again. Betsy was summoned to the police station. She told them everything she knew. Draheen was full of strangers searching for Violet.
The gardaí went to her home place in the midlands to see if she had turned up there, but there was no sighting of her. Her mother and father were still alive. Her mother had wept when they told her but had said little else.
Violet had well and truly vanished.
It made the national news. PLAYWRIGHT MISSING IN DRAHEEN. There was talk in the newspapers about a possible abduction. Speculation about a ransom note.
Henry didn’t think this at all likely. He was a man of means but not to the extent that anyone would risk kidnapping his wife for money. However, he went and spoke to the police about this possibility. They dismissed the notion, saying he would already have heard from kidnappers if that were the case. He left the Garda Station with a deeper feeling of dread. He felt they had decided they already had their suspect: him.
There was a vigil held in the church in Draheen. Father Quill made a special plea to all the parishioners.
‘Please, I beg you, if any of you know anything at all about her disappearance, speak now.’
Betsy saw the ‘church ladies’ deep in prayer, the hypocrites!
They stopped her on the way out as she went to bless herself at the holy water font.
‘Any news at all of poor Mrs Ward?’ Agnes the Cat asked. Her face had a reddish-purple hue to it and her eyes bored into Betsy for any morsel of news.
The others stood close beside her.
Betsy turned around to them, her face hiding nothing of what she thought of them.
‘Poor Mrs Ward is it now? That’s not what you were calling her a week ago when you stopped her at this very place and insulted her so much that I was ashamed of our town. Don’t give me your sympathy now. You wanted rid of her. You got your way with your prayers and your vicious tongues – you got what you were looking for. It’s absolution you should be seeking. You sicken me. Get out of my way.’
‘Watch your tongue, Betsy Kerrigan!’ Nelly Cooke spouted. ‘We may have told her that Draheen was no place for her kind but, sure, what do you expect – she was writing evil stuff!’
‘You should have minded your own business, frightening the poor woman when her child was so sick. You don’t fool me with your prayers and your novenas. There are more Christian thoughts in a pagan. Get out of my way, the lot of you!’
‘How dare you speak to us like that!’ Agnes the Cat accusingly pointed her finger almost into Betsy’s face. ‘Can you tell me what you were doing helping Mr Ward up the street and him in a drunken stupor all wrapped around you? You seem to have got very close to Mr Ward while his wife is missing!’
‘How dare you, you evil woman! Get out of my way or I will surely slap the lot of you. Never mind scrubbing the altar, it’s your mouths and your dark hearts that need scrubbing. What are you all looking at?’
She could feel her body shaking and had to fight to control herself not to slap Agnes across the face. It was all too much. First poor Sylvia, then Mrs Ward going missing and now accusations that there was something sinful going on between her and Mr Ward.
‘You pagans, with your vicious tongues! Don’t ever let me hear you spread your evil gossip again or, God forbid, I will throttle the lot of you!’
‘Ladies, I think that is enough disgrace for one day,’ came Miss Doheny’s voice as she suddenly appeared at Betsy’s side. ‘Draheen is already in the news. We don’t need the women of the town fighting like drunks at a wedding. Shame on you! Betsy was doing her job as you all well know and if I hear any of you spreading any other rubbish, you’ll have me to deal with and I’ll report you to the priest. Eighth, Thou shalt not bear false witness against your neighbour. Are you so ignorant you don’t know the Commandments? Hold your head up now, Betsy, and I will walk with you.’
Betsy was taken aback to see Miss Doheny take her side – she was not expecting an ally in her. They walked up the town together with Miss Doheny staring back at anyone who dared to look at Betsy.
‘Go back now, Betsy, and I will get some supplies sent up to you. How is the little one?’
‘Weak and forlorn. We are meant to bring her home this morning because of the influenza breakout. I just hope she has not already picked it up.’
‘Don’t worry – the nuns will make sure the room she is in is sparkling and free from any germs. Try not to let those women get to you. I know what people are like, I have had my own share of it over the years. Oh, I know what people say about me. But life has a funny way of putting you in a box, especially a town like Draheen. I know you are a good Christian woman, Betsy, like your mother before you, but you are in muddy waters. Be careful, I don’t know what the end of all this will be, but I fear it’s not going to be good.’
‘Why do you say this?’ Betsy looked intently at her.
‘As I say, I know you and your people before you. When I heard them accuse you of something unchristian between you and Mr Ward, I knew it had all gone too far. But it’s not good. There is no sign of that woman and I have a terrible fear that there is not going to be.’
‘Please, Miss Doheny, you would not say that if you didn’t know something.’
Miss Doheny beckoned Betsy to come into the shop. Then she stood at the door in case anyone arrived up – they would be looking for stuff shortly.
‘I overheard something, that’s all. It has me very concerned for that young one.’
‘Go on, what did you hear?’
‘I think they are going to arrest Mr Ward. They have it that he had a fight with Mrs Ward and threatened her. They have asked for signed statements. I had to give a statement about seeing her go to the woods. Then there is the scarf with the blood on it that you found.’
‘But what are they going to arrest him for?’
‘They think he has murdered her and hidden her body.’
‘Oh sweet Jesus! No!’
‘Well, there is no trace of her. He did threaten her.’
Betsy had to sit down on the one chair in the shop. A weakness overpowered her. This could not be happening. Going to arrest Mr Ward for murder? He could be hanged for this. What on earth would happen to Sylvia?
‘There’s more, I’m afraid,’ Miss Doheny said gravely.
‘More? What could be worse than this?’
‘They think you might have had something to do with it. You heard those women – but it’s not just them – there are rumours flying around that you were having relations with Mr Ward.’
Betsy retched. Miss Doheny grabbed a rag and handed it to her. She had eating nothing yet that day as she had been fasting to receive Holy Communion at Mass.
‘It turns out that several people noticed you walking him home that morning. To be honest, it did look bad.’
‘So, they think that we have done murder together!’
‘That is all I know. There are two sergeants, a plainclothes garda and the superintendent and of course Garda Flynn who can’t keep his mouth shut. They are all up in that station. I have it on good authority that they are hoping that Mr Ward will slip up and lead them to where he has hidden her. But make no mistake, they will make the arrest. Soon. They have a warrant to search the house but they are biding their
time.’
‘I must go.’
‘You never heard any of this from me, right?’
‘Right.’
‘Be careful, Betsy. You are a good woman. We have had our differences, but I know that you have not had any hand in this terrible thing that you are wrapped up in.’
‘I have to go.’ Betsy went to leave but at the door she turned back to Miss Doheny. ‘Thank you, Miss Doheny.’
With that she was gone. Her heart was racing.
Back at the house she lit the fire and put the kettle on. The kitchen was warm and, as she cradled a cup of tea, she could hear Mr Ward coming out of his study.
‘I am going up at ten to collect Sylvia. Are you alright, Betsy? You look a fright.’
Betsy was not sure how much to tell him. He looked like a man who could barely take any more, but she felt she had no choice.
‘I heard some rumours.’
‘Go on.’
As much as she could, she repeated what Miss Doheny had told her.
Henry sat down and ran his fingers through his hair, his eyes staring into space.
‘Garda Flynn had me down as the culprit straight away. If they arrest me and charge me, they could hang me.’
Betsy began to cry. Henry looked at her.
‘Betsy, do you think I had anything to do with Violet going missing? I need to know.’
Betsy wished with all her heart that she believed that he didn’t. But she couldn’t help recall the terrible anger that could rise up in Mr Ward. Yet she knew that he loved his wife. She could hardly tell him that she was more or less sure but that a tiny part of her worried that the guards were right in their suspicions that he did have something to do with it. It was hard not to notice the rows that had begun since he had bought that building. But she couldn’t really believe he would hurt Mrs Ward. Not intentionally anyway. But could there have been a moment of madness and he had harmed her? She couldn’t allow herself to think about it. All that mattered was the child. She swallowed hard.
‘I can see why people think it but I know how deeply you care for Mrs Ward. Oh, Mr Ward, I feel sick with worry! What will become of Sylvia if they arrest you?’
Henry began pacing the floor, up and down.
‘Mr Ward, what are we to do?’ Betsy implored.
‘I need to get Sylvia. I will need to leave here with her, vanish from the house. If they arrest me and they can’t find Violet, I will either rot in jail or die from hanging. Sylvia will end up in the madhouse with no mother or father. It will be the end of us.’
Betsy was shaking. How could this all be happening? ‘Maybe if I talk to them, tell them that I know you didn’t do anything.’
‘No disrespect, Betsy, but from you say they think that you might be trying to cover up for me. I daresay they think you and I were coming from your cottage when we were seen together – after all, the Binchys don’t actually know what time I left their house.’
Betsy began to cry.
‘Betsy, I am sorry.’
‘It’s Sylvia – what is to become of her if they arrest you and maybe me too? You must leave and take her with you. You must leave now – they won’t delay in arresting you. We must protect Sylvia.’
‘I don’t want to drag you into this any more than you are, Betsy. You’d better leave now – you can tell them that you handed in your notice.’
‘Where will you go, how will you manage? She needs so much care. What if she gets one of those fits? She could die if she is not cared for properly.’
‘I don’t know, I don’t know, but I think I need to leave now. If not, it will be too late and any chance of leaving here with Sylvia will be lost. I just cannot bear to think about what could happen to her.’
Betsy saw a moment of her life flash in front of her, a moment that would change everything forever.
‘You can’t do this alone,’ she said. ‘The child needs so much care. I am coming with you. I will help you to look after her.’
It was madness but there was no choice. Miss Doheny was right – they would make an arrest soon, and then it would be too late. This was their only chance. What if he had murdered his wife? She wished she was sure that he played no part in it. How could the guards be so sure? She wondered did they know something that she didn’t. But what would be the end of Sylvia? With no home to go to she could end up in one of those terrible places. There was no way they would let a spinster adopt a child. And from what Miss Doheny said she could end up behind bars too for some sort of conspiracy. There was no other way.
‘When they find Mrs Ward, we can come back. It’s all we can do,’ Betsy said.
Henry grabbed Betsy by the shoulders.
‘You don’t have to do this, Betsy.’
‘I do. I love the child like my own. She needs me.’
Henry stood up and looked around him.
‘Right, we need to plan. We won’t wait until later. When we collect Sylvia we will go. They could be following us, but we will have to chance that. You pack some clothes and I will get what money and jewellery that I can put together.’
Betsy ran to her house and packed a few bits. She grabbed the box that contained her brother’s letters, some photographs and her bible. As she stood in the small kitchen she dropped to the floor and did the only thing she felt she could do. She prayed.
‘Please, my God, forgive me. But I must protect this child. I feel it is your will. I beg you to help me protect her. Mary Most Holy Mother, please guide me and hold my hand. Let me not fear any evil, knowing I have you by my side.’ She grabbed her rosary beads and put them in her pocket. With her heart breaking for her little home she walked out.
She was back at Eveline within the hour and quickly packed up some clothes and things for Sylvia and Mr Ward.
‘We need to leave, Betsy.’
Betsy could hardly think straight. She packed some food and drinks and some blankets for Sylvia and put them into the boot. She watched Mr Ward lock the door of the house the same as if it was any morning.
It was ten minutes to ten when they left. Miss Doheny was out talking to a woman on the street as they drove up the town. She gave Betsy a nod of acknowledgment. The young girl that worked for her was there too. She kept staring at them. Betsy looked at her. She couldn’t say what but there was something about the girl that worried her. The poor girl looked so forlorn. She regretted that she could not have made some time for her. Hopefully the girl would be alright. But Miss Doheny had surprised her in the end. Without her warning, they would not be aware of what the gardaí were planning. Hopefully she would look after the young girl.
At the hospital Sylvia looked as pale as a ghost. But she was up and waiting. The nurse gave instructions for taking some medicine and told them of an appointment with a specialist that had been made in Dublin in two days’ time. The nun over the ward said a prayer for her recovery and bid them good morning. The doctor would call to the house the following morning to check on her. The influenza was spreading like wildfire. Hopefully Sylvia had not contracted it.
They walked as calmly as they could to the car, Henry carrying Sylvia. He lay Sylvia down on a blanket on the back seat with her head on Betsy’s lap, and arranged another blanket on top.
Henry had just got in when Father Quill arrived.
Betsy prayed he would not notice the agitation on her or Mr Ward’s faces. He asked how Sylvia was.
‘Frail,’ Betsy said.
‘I am sure she will be glad to get home. Won’t you, Sylvia?’
The little girl nodded.
‘We’d better be off, Father,’ Henry said rather nervously.
‘I might call over tomorrow to see how you’re all doing. After morning Mass.’
‘Thank you, Father,’ Betsy replied.
‘God bless you now and let me know if I can help in any way.’
He raised his hand and blessed Sylvia.
Betsy barely kept it together. She waved to Father Quill as Mr Ward slowly drove down the avenue.
They drove in silence for thirty minutes. Betsy could feel her heart pumping. She could barely breathe in case they were being followed. Sylvia had fallen asleep.
‘I think we are clear for now,’ Henry said. ‘But as soon as word gets out that we are gone there will be roadblocks and searches for us. I am going to drive straight to Dublin. There is a sailing this evening. If they don’t try to make the arrest today, we might just make it. Once we get to England we will go into hiding for a while. I know someone who will help.’
Betsy was crying. ‘Her dolls! I had fixed her favourite doll. I forgot them, I forgot so much.’
‘She will be back, Betsy, one day she will back.’
Betsy looked at the child and the enormity of their situation hit her like a slap of a shovel. They would be very lucky not to be caught. What on earth would happen if they needed medical care for Sylvia? She looked so frail.
And what if Mr Ward had murdered his wife like the guards were so convinced of? She could barely breathe with fear. Had she just got into a car with an innocent man on the run or had she put herself and the child in a car with a murderer? She reached for the rosary beads from her pocket. It was her mother’s. All she knew was that she had to protect this child. It was as if her whole life was leading to this moment. Silently she began to pray.
PART 2
CHAPTER 20
Eveline House, June 2019
Emily O’Connor scrolled through the property section of the Sunday papers. She was searching for a house that could work as a studio to showcase her bridal gowns, with a room to use as a workshop. But a house that could also be a home.
The commissions were building up and the small terraced house in Stoneybatter on Dublin’s northside was beginning to be smothered in her work. She adored her home but, as beautiful and quaint as her two-up two-down red-brick terraced house was, she needed something bigger.
The Secret of Eveline House Page 14