After he left, she turned the envelope over in her hands. What could Valentine possibly want to tell Rosie that she did not already know? Well, it didn’t matter. She would never have to give it to Rosie. Valentine would survive the war. She would not allow herself to think anything different.
Valentine’s unexpected visit roused the residents of Ennismore out of their torpor. At the sound of his carriage Lord and Lady Ennis rushed to the front door, followed by Sofia carrying Julian while Lady Louisa brought up the rear. They stood peering out through the sheets of rain that rose and fell in waves across the driveway. Mr Burke emerged carrying a huge umbrella and made his way through the puddles to the door of the carriage.
‘Welcome, my lord,’ he boomed as Valentine climbed down. ‘Welcome home.’
Valentine waved away the umbrella and stood smiling, his head thrown back, the rain drenching his uniform.
‘Thank you, Burke. It’s good to be home. I have certainly missed it.’
He stood inhaling the familiar rich, damp smells of sodden earth, stacks of cut turf and steaming hides of wet cattle.
‘Papa, Papa!’ Julian struggled out of his mother’s arms and toddled towards Valentine, his dark eyes alight.
Valentine lifted the child and swung him around causing him to squeal. ‘Look at you, my darling boy. How big you have grown!’
Carrying Julian, he walked towards his family who stood arrayed on the front steps. He kissed his mother and aunt on the cheek, shook hands with his father and pulled Sofia to him in a warm embrace. She returned his kiss quickly then took Julian from him. ‘My goodness, you are both soaked,’ she laughed. ‘Come in before you get your death of cold.’
Burke followed them into the hallway, carrying Valentine’s bags.
‘Put those down, Burke. Where’s the footman?’
‘We have no footmen left,’ said Lady Louisa.
‘Then I shall take them up myself,’ said Valentine cheerfully, wrestling his bags from an indignant Mr Burke.
Lord Ennis winked. ‘Indeed, Burke. You must save your strength for your upcoming nuptials.’ He turned to his son as Mr Burke blushed. ‘Mr Burke and Mrs Murphy have become engaged, Valentine. Isn’t that wonderful news?’
Valentine grinned. ‘It is indeed, Papa. Congratulations, Mr Burke, and to you, Mrs Murphy.’
The housekeeper, who had appeared in the hallway, blushed even more deeply than Mr Burke as she nodded her thanks.
Dinner was a lively affair. Everyone peppered Valentine with questions.
‘How long will you be staying?’
‘When do you leave for the front?’
‘What do you think of young Julian? Hasn’t he grown?’
And then the inevitable question from Lady Ennis. ‘Have you seen Victoria?’
‘Yes, I stopped to see her at Aunt Marianne’s yesterday. She is looking very well.’
Lady Ennis shrugged. ‘I truly can’t understand why she chooses to stay in Dublin.’
‘As I recall, dear sister, you are the one who sent her away,’ said Lady Louisa.
‘I would have thought she had learned her lesson by now and would be begging to come home. But as it is, she hardly even writes, let alone visits.’
‘I imagine she is getting along splendidly with Dr Cullen,’ put in Lord Ennis. ‘She seemed quite excited about the prospect when I left her. I suppose I could contact him to see how she is getting along.’
‘I don’t think that’s necessary, Papa,’ said Valentine quickly. ‘Victoria may think you’re prying. Besides, she seemed very content to me.’
Lord Ennis nodded. ‘You make a good point. Anyway, we shall all be going to the Fairyhouse Racecourse in Dublin this coming Easter for the Irish Grand National. I have a horse running. It would be a capital time for a family reunion.’
Valentine nodded and stood up. ‘It’s stopped raining, Sofia. Shall we take Julian for a walk in the garden before his bedtime? We can show him the lovely rainbow I can see out there over the lake.’
Everyone turned to look out the window at the hazy arc of luminous colour that had descended from the sky.
‘They say it’s a sign of good luck,’ murmured Lord Ennis. ‘God knows we need it.’
While Sofia went to get Julian ready for his walk, Valentine followed his father into the library where they shared a brandy.
‘You sound rather glum, Papa. Is everything all right?’
Lord Ennis looked up from his drink with a worried expression. ‘I’m afraid things are not all right, Valentine. As you know, cattle and crop prices have been falling for some time. The estate debts are mounting and the banks are not as ready to lend working capital as in the past. And this house is badly in need of repair. The roof is leaking worse than ever and the façade is beginning to crumble.’
‘But what can be done, Papa?’
‘I’ve been thinking we might have to sell off some of the land.’ He hurried on before Valentine could interrupt. ‘The Wyndham Act has been amended to allow the government to offer significant inducements to landlords to sell. John Killeen has approached me more than once about buying out his tenant farm. He can get a government loan and is offering a fair price. He is a good man and—’
‘No, Papa, you can’t possibly be serious! You cannot sell Ennis Estates! There must be some other way! I can talk to Sofia – surely she would not want to see Julian’s legacy destroyed.’
Lord Ennis set his mouth in a grim line. ‘You will stoop to no such thing. I will not embarrass our family by begging for American money.’ He paused, then gave Valentine a cold look. ‘Perhaps if you’d chosen to stay here rather than enter the army we might have found a way to cope with this together. But as it is I am the one left to bear the brunt of the problem.’
Had Valentine paid more attention, he would have seen a hint of desperation in Lord Ennis’s eyes and fatigue in the set of his shoulders. As it was, the young man merely shrugged, his expression telling his father he had heard all this before.
‘I’m sorry you think I let you down by joining the army, Papa, but I believe it was my duty.’
His father glared at him. ‘And what about your duty to this family?’
Valentine glared back at him. ‘Oh, I think I’ve more than done my duty towards this family.’
Lord Ennis was about to challenge Valentine’s words when Julian burst into the library followed by Sofia. Valentine opened his arms and the child leaped into them. ‘Let’s go see the rainbow, Julian,’ he said. ‘It’s supposed to bring good luck to anyone who makes a wish on it. But you have to believe it will come true. Do you understand?’
The child nodded happily. ‘Yes, Papa.’
Below stairs the kitchen staff admired the rainbow from the open door.
‘A sign of good luck,’ said Mrs O’Leary. ‘Young Master Valentine’s brought the luck with him.’
‘Let’s hope so,’ said Anthony Walshe, puffing on his pipe. ‘We could all do with some of it, the way things are.’
‘I’d hoped he was home to say the war’s over,’ went on Mrs O’Leary, ‘but it sounds like it’s just really beginning.’
‘Aye, and there’ll be no help for us here at all,’ said Sadie glumly. ‘There won’t be a lad left within miles looking for work as a footman. They’re all away to Dublin either to join up with the army, or to join the Volunteers like Brendan.’
Immelda put down her mending. ‘Brendan and the rest of them is fools if they think they can beat the British Army. They’re just hotheads, the lot of them.’
‘I wouldn’t be so sure, Immelda,’ said Anthony. ‘From what I hear they have some mighty support among some rich Protestants in Dublin – the likes of Mr Yeats and Lady Gregory from Galway among them.’
Immelda scowled. ‘Ah sure, aren’t they just all the idle rich looking to amuse themselves. When it comes right down to it they’ll side with the British just as they’ve always done. Look at how Victoria treated our Brendan. And even worse, look at how they crucifi
ed Rosie when they found out who she was. Blood’s always been thicker than water.’ She finished stitching the seam and noisily bit off the thread. ‘Besides,’ she went on, ‘I doubt it will make much difference to us if they rise up or not. We’re still all going to be stuck here with bloody Ennismore crumbling down around us.’
They sat, each lost in their own thoughts, as the kitchen clock chimed the hour. Outside, the rain began again. Mrs O’Leary drained the last of her tea. ‘Well now, there goes the rainbow and the good luck with it.’
CHAPTER 27
One morning, not long after Valentine’s visit, Victoria arrived at the Union to the usual suspicious glances of her co-workers. In spite of her hard work, she knew that the other nurses didn’t think highly of her. Although she had said nothing about her background, just her accent and bearing set her apart from them – and the fact that she worked without pay. Had she been a married woman of the same class they might have taken it in stride – another rich matron determined to ‘do good’ – but as a young single woman they were left to assume she was from the wealthy class. She had tried hard to be diligent, keeping longer hours than most, accepting any task no matter how distasteful, showing respect to the other nurses and patients alike, but still they viewed her with suspicion.
This morning was no different. The head nurse gave her a tight-lipped nod and walked away. Victoria sighed and went about her duties, grateful that the hospital waiting room was, as usual, crowded with patients. If she kept busy she would not worry about Valentine, or find herself daydreaming about Brendan. She was in the midst of taking the temperature of yet another hollow-eyed, feverish, sullen young mother when the head nurse came to find her.
‘Miss Bell, I need you to assist in the operating theatre. At once.’
Her voice was crisp. Victoria swallowed hard.
‘But I have no experience there, Sister,’ she began. ‘Surely they need someone with experience.’
The head nurse looked at her sternly. ‘Do not question my judgement, Miss Bell. We are short-staffed, and of the nurses available you are the best option. Go now. They are waiting for you.’
Victoria was in a daze as she hurried to the operating theatre. Part of her was thrilled that the head nurse had shown such faith in her – it meant that her work was more than satisfactory – but the other part of her was terrified. She blinked as she opened the doors to the theatre where bright lights shone down on a patient in a bed, surrounded by a group of masked doctors and nurses. She went immediately to a sink to scrub up while another nurse helped her with her surgical mask and gown. The smell of blood mixed with disinfectant nearly made her vomit, but with effort she held it down. She trembled as she edged in beside the nurse who had helped her dress. The nurse turned and smiled at her.
‘Don’t worry,’ she smiled, ‘you’ll be all right. Just hand me the instruments as I ask for them.’
Victoria nodded. As the operation progressed her tension eased. She watched with fascination as the surgeon cut through the patient’s flesh, examined his organs, and excised what appeared to be a small tumour. Then he deftly sewed up the cut and nodded to the nurses. Victoria was impressed not just by the surgeon’s apparent confidence, but by the gentleness with which he examined the patient’s body. He had a tall, commanding presence, and though she could not see his face behind his mask, she was sure it was kind. When the operation ended, he walked by her and stopped.
‘Well done, young lady,’ he said. His voice was warm and genial.
Victoria blushed.
‘Thank you, sir.’
He threw his head back and laughed. ‘Ah, I’ve not been knighted yet, miss. Mr O’Malley will suit me just as well.’
Victoria looked up at him. She recognized his County Mayo accent at once. And she recognized his name. Could this be Cathal O’Malley – the man she had seen in the play at the Abbey, the man Rosie was said to be living with? She told herself it was just a coincidence. Wasn’t O’Malley a common name? She went about her business of stripping off her mask and gown, and scrubbing her hands. When she walked out into the corridor, however, she stopped dead in her tracks. It was him. There was no mistake. He had removed his mask and gown and was chatting with one of the nurses. She recognized the handsome face, broad shoulders and shaggy brown hair. Instinctively, she put her head down and rushed past him and back to the hospital waiting room.
For the next week she could not get Cathal O’Malley out of her mind. At first, she could not understand her obsession with him. Why did she care about this man? He was Rosie’s friend, not hers. Her mind should be on Brendan or Valentine – and it was – but every now and then an image of Cathal O’Malley would interrupt her thoughts. As she thought about it, she realized that he represented her only connection with Rosie. She missed her friend dreadfully. All the anger of her last encounter with her had evaporated and she longed to see her, talk to her, share secrets as they had done so many years before. She made up her mind to confront Cathal O’Malley.
She did not have to wait long. One evening, as she exited the Union and walked out under the old archway, he appeared beside her.
‘Aren’t you the lass assisted us at the operation last week?’ he asked.
Victoria nodded. She kept walking without breaking her stride. He kept up with her.
‘I never got your name. I’d like to ask for you again next time we’re short-staffed. You were far more efficient than most of the girls they send us.’
She looked up at him. ‘Victoria Bell,’ she said.
She waited to see would her name register with him. Evidently it did not.
‘And where do you hail from, Miss Bell?’
‘County Mayo,’ she said.
He threw his head back and laughed. ‘Ah, sure shouldn’t I have guessed ’twas a Mayo girl was in it? ’Tis hard to beat them.’ He halted and turned to face her. ‘Cathal O’Malley, a County Mayo man, at your service, miss.’
Victoria took a deep breath. It was now or never.
‘I believe you know a friend of mine from County Mayo. Her name is Rosie Killeen. Well, her name is Roisin, actually, but I’ve always called her Rosie.’
He blinked at her. ‘Rosie? You know Rosie? But I thought she had no friends in Dublin, save for myself, of course, and her sister Bridie.’
Victoria grew bolder. ‘We grew up together at Ennismore,’ she said. ‘You may know the place. Anyway, we were great friends in childhood, but now . . .’ she hesitated, ‘well we’ve fallen out and I haven’t seen her in a year. I heard you and she are living together.’
Victoria tried to sound casual, but she knew she had not succeeded. The tension in her voice was evident. Cathal O’Malley took her arm.
‘Can we sit down somewhere and talk about this?’
They sat together on a bench not far from the Union. It was twilight, but she could see his face plainly enough. He was indeed a handsome man. No wonder Rosie was drawn to him. At Cathal’s urging she told him more details of how she and Rosie had come to know each other. She left out any details she thought might be embarrassing to Rosie.
‘And when I came to Dublin, I went to Bridie’s house to find her,’ she finished up, ‘but she wanted nothing to do with me. We had a quarrel and I haven’t seen her since. I was hoping you might give her a message from me. Tell her that I miss her and long to see her again.’
Cathal O’Malley had listened to her in silence. Now he leaned back on the bench and gave a long sigh. He took out a cigarette and lit it. He offered her one but she refused. She waited.
‘Well isn’t Roisin Dubh the dark horse,’ he said, sounding bemused.
‘Please, Mr O’Malley, I don’t want her to be upset with me for telling you all this. I didn’t know how much you knew.’
He patted her arm. ‘Don’t be fretting now, Miss Bell. I’ll be as tactful as a diplomat.’ He puffed on his cigarette then ground the stub out beneath his boot and stood up. ‘I’m glad to have met you, Miss Bell, and I’m glad to kno
w that Rosie has a friend like you in Dublin. I’ll do what I can to bring her around. But you know Rosie as well as, if not better, than I do. She can be as stubborn as a donkey on the bog, so she can. Goodnight, now.’
‘Goodnight, Mr O’Malley,’ she murmured.
She sat on the bench and watched him disappear into the dusk. At length she stood up and dusted off her clothes. Well, it was done. She had left her future with Rosie in Cathal O’Malley’s hands. She hoped he could be persuasive. But as he had said, Rosie was stubborn. There seemed no point holding out a lot of hope.
Rosie had moved into Cathal O’Malley’s house the day after Micko’s assault. She had woken up the morning after she had arrived on his doorstep and gone back to Foley Court for her belongings. Bridie was alone with young Kate. She watched silently as Rosie threw her clothes in a bag along with a few other personal effects. At last Rosie stood before her sister.
‘I have to leave, Bridie.’
Bridie nodded. ‘I know you do.’
Rosie had said nothing about the incident with Micko, but it was clear to her that Bridie understood. She reached out and took her sister’s hands in her own. Bridie had grown gaunt and hollow-eyed. Poverty and circumstance had driven all the spirit out of her. Where was the Bridie who had been such a strong, feisty girl? Rosie choked back tears as she spoke.
‘I’ve left the address where I’ll be in case you need it. And I’ll get money to you as often as I can.’ She sighed. ‘I wish I could take you and Kate with me away from this hellhole, but . . .’
Bridie nodded. ‘Ah now, stop that, Rosie. Sure know as well as I do that Micko would never let us go. If we left here he’d hunt us down and drag us back. And besides, as Ma always said, I’ve made me bed and I have to lie in it.’
Rosie found herself wishing Micko Delaney dead. If she was a man she would have choked him with her own hands. She bit her lip and nodded. Letting go of her sister’s hands she went over and knelt down and enfolded young Kate in her arms.
The Girls of Ennismore Page 24