The Linen Queen

by Patricia Falvey

  Kate let out a faint scream and put her hands to her mouth.

  “She is in mortal sin,” Father Flynn shouted, and he thumped his fist on a nearby table. “There is no alternative but to send her to the nuns, and I pray that the good sisters will in time be able to save her soul.”

  “You can’t do that!” I shouted. “Kate? Kevin? Please. Surely there’s another way. What about her ma? Even that would be better than the convent.”

  Kate shrugged. “The women who arranged for her to be billeted here in the first place have been in touch with the mother. Apparently she wants nothing to do with her daughter. And if you ask me, the girl will be much better off with the nuns than that tramp.”

  “Me ma’s not a tramp!” Grainne blurted out. She had pulled away from me and was glaring at Kate and the others. “And I don’t believe that she doesn’t want me back.”

  Kate pursed her lips. “Believe what you like,” she said. “And to think I was prepared to pay your fare home to Belfast. If your mother had been willing to take you we would have got rid of you a week ago.”

  Sergeant Riley and his partner put on their caps. “We’ll be leaving you in the good father’s hands,” said the sergeant. He turned to Grainne. “You’re lucky Father Flynn here took pity on you, my girl, or we’d have had you locked up—mark my words.”

  “Lucky my arse,” I said under my breath, but Kevin heard me.

  “Watch your mouth,” he said, “or you’re next.”

  I watched helplessly as Kate threw the few belongings the child owned into the old battered suitcase Grainne had brought with her when she first arrived and thrust it at Father Flynn. Ma clung to my elbow and I hadn’t the strength to shove her away. Grainne’s face was drained of all color. She stood quietly like a prisoner awaiting arrest and then walked outside with the priest without protest. Ma and Kate and I went to the door. Out on the street Grainne turned and looked directly to me. There was a strange look on her face. It was not anger, as I might have expected, but accusation. Mortified, I watched her thin figure disappear down the street with the priest in his black suit.

  I didn’t even remember how I got to the Flagstaff. I must have pedaled furiously away from the house and out the road and up to the summit. I was out of breath with the effort of it. I dropped my bicycle on the grass and slumped down on the nearest stone bench. I couldn’t get Grainne’s face out of my mind.

  I sat without moving. Some gulls circled overhead making a mournful noise. A mist had fallen over the lough. I could see no boats, even though there were usually plenty of them on a Sunday. I had the odd feeling the world was in mourning. Sighing, I pulled out a packet of cigarettes and lit one. I inhaled deeply and sent curling wisps of smoke into the air. How things had changed in a few hours, I thought. One minute I’d been over the moon. My dream had come true at last. Joel had offered me my pass to freedom. I was finally on my way. The mill, the house in Queens-brook, the poverty—all of it would be left behind. But now the light had gone out of everything. I couldn’t even bring myself to be angry. All I felt was exhaustion.

  That evening I crawled into the empty bed in the granny room. It was still light outside and I pulled the covers up over my head to shut it out. I could still smell Grainne’s scent on her pillow. I wondered how she was at this moment. I hoped at least she was safe and warm, even if she was up at that awful place on the hill. The poor girl must be scared out of her wits, I thought. I remembered the nightmares I’d had as a child every time Ma threatened to take me to the convent. The big gray building turned into a monster in my dreams and opened its huge mouth and swallowed me up. I turned the events of the day over and over in my head. How could life have turned so upside down in less than twenty-four hours? This time last night I had been sipping champagne with Joel, toasting our new adventure in England, and now? Well, now I felt as if the bottom had dropped out of my life leaving me suspended in midair, not knowing which way to go.

  I twisted and turned in the bed and thumped the pillow. I was looking for anger. I had every right to be raging. Why now? Why did all this have to come to a head the very day I had held my freedom in my two hands? It wasn’t fair. None of it was fair. I’d done nothing wrong. All I had done was to try to help the girl, when I should have stayed out of it and minded my own business. I turned from side to side, twisting the sheets into a ball, and the sweat poured off me. At last I sat up. There was going to be no sleep for me this night, I realized. I got out of bed and dressed. I had to get away from here.

  “Where are you going at this hour?”

  Ma’s voice startled me. She sat in the armchair beside the dying fire.

  “Why aren’t you in bed minding your own business?”

  “Sure who could sleep after what happened? That poor wee mite.” Ma sighed. “Och, sure maybe it’s the best place for her. Better than back with that ma of hers. Anyway, it’s God’s will.”

  I rolled my eyes. “What kind of God would wish that place on a child?”

  I tugged the front door open and stepped out, pulling it closed behind me. The cool air revived me. Darkness had finally fallen. I hadn’t even looked at the clock. It must be past midnight, I thought. I shrugged and lifted my bicycle, which leaned against the wall of the house. I wheeled it down the hill. I had no idea where I was going. As I walked, I breathed deeply and tried to clear my head. It was a Sunday night, and all decent people were in their beds asleep and waiting for the mill horn to blow on Monday morning. There was not a light to be seen in any window. The road ahead of me was black as pitch. Not a soul passed me on the road. Even the birds were asleep. I had the strange feeling I was the only person alive in the world.

  An hour later I was cycling up to the guard station outside Narrow Water Castle where Joel was billeted. I got off my bicycle, my legs so weak they almost buckled under me. I leaned against the wall for support. I didn’t even remember making the decision to go there. All I knew was I got on my bicycle and started pedaling into Newry and then out the Warrenpoint road and along the water in the direction of the base. I felt Joel pulling me towards him. I knew I had to see him. It made no sense of course, showing up there in the middle of the night. I’d likely get arrested. But I didn’t care.

  The door of the hut opened and a young soldier charged out carrying a rifle. He aimed it right at me.

  “Halt!” he shouted. “What’s your business?”

  The look on his face was almost comical. I must have shocked him out of a doze. He probably thought I was a German. And when he saw me, he blinked his eyes open and shut, as if he thought he was dreaming.

  “What’s your business, miss,” he said again when he had recovered himself.

  “I need to see Captain Solomon,” I said. My voice was calm.

  “At this hour of the night?”

  I nodded. “It’s urgent,” I said. “Very urgent.”

  “The camp’s closed. You’ll have to come back in the morning.”

  I slid down on to the ground and began to laugh. I suppose it was nerves. “How can the camp be closed? What if I’d been a German?”

  The young soldier moved closer. He prodded me with his rifle. “Have you been drinking?”

  I shook my head and laughed louder. “No,” I said. “But it’s a good idea.”

  He grabbed one of my shoulders and hoisted me to my feet.

  “You can’t stay here, miss. Or I’ll have to arrest you.”

  “Then do that,” I said. I was suddenly so tired I didn’t care what happened.

  The soldier cursed under his breath. I felt sorry for him.

  “Look,” I said, “call Joel—Captain Solomon. You won’t get into trouble. I’ll make sure. I’ll tell him I badgered you until you had no choice.”

  He hesitated for a minute. Then he said, “Stay here!”

  He went into the hut and I heard him on the telephone. I couldn’t make out what he was saying. I slumped down on the ground again and closed my eyes.

  “Sheila? Sheila? Wh
at on earth is going on? What’s wrong?”

  I opened my eyes and Joel was leaning over me, shaking me. I must have fallen asleep. I looked up at him and shook my head.

  “Nothing’s wrong,” I said. “I just needed to see you, that’s all.”

  Any other man might have roared at me for getting him out of bed in the middle of the night and embarrassing him in front of a subordinate, but not Joel. His voice was calm as he helped me to my feet and took me firmly by the elbow.

  “Let’s go inside,” he said, “where we can talk.”

  He turned around and nodded at the soldier. “I’ll take care of things from here, Private Watson.”

  The soldier saluted and went back into his hut.

  Joel picked up my bicycle and wheeled it with one hand while he took my arm with the other. He said nothing as he led me towards the main building on the estate. He left my bicycle at the front steps and steered me up towards the big wooden front door.

  “Let’s go into the library,” he said. “It will be private in there.”

  We walked down a wide, dark hallway and into a cavernous room. A small lamp burned near the empty fireplace, casting a copper glow over everything. Joel pointed to an armchair and turned on some more lamps.

  “I’ll get you some brandy,” he said. “You look like you could use it.”

  While he stood at a giant sideboard pouring brandy from a crystal decanter I looked around. Shelves climbed from floor to ceiling crammed with books. I had never seen so many in one place in my life. Had anybody read them all, I wondered? Gilt-framed oil paintings filled the other walls, arranged carefully on red flock wallpaper. A huge globe sat on a table near me, and carved sailing ships perched on shelves around the room. In one corner stood the bust of a woman that must have been the prow of an ancient boat. I smiled absently at the sight of it. I imagined old men sitting in the worn leather chairs, reading newspapers and drinking brandy. The room gave off the scent of old money and people who were sheltered from the chaos of the outside world. I envied the people who had lived here, and yet the room frightened me just a little. If I believed in ghosts, I was sure they would have haunted this room.

  “Here. Drink this,” said Joel, handing me a glass of golden liquid.

  The glass was heavy in my hand. I lifted it and swallowed. The brandy burned my throat and I spluttered.

  Joel sat down in an armchair across from me. He had not poured himself a drink. He waited silently while I settled down. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. I put the glass down on a side table and nervously pulled out a pack of cigarettes. I rummaged in my handbag for matches but could find none, and Joel didn’t offer any. I shoved the pack into my pocket.

  “Now,” said Joel at last, “what brings you here in the middle of the night?”

  I tried to joke. “I couldn’t get enough of you,” I said.

  His face was solemn. “No jokes, Sheila. What’s going on?”

  What was I to say? I didn’t even know myself what had driven me to come down here. It was as if I’d had no choice in it at all. Joel waited for my answer. Somewhere in the house a door creaked and I jumped.

  “They sent Grainne to the nuns,” I burst out suddenly.

  “To the nuns?” He looked confused.

  “Aye. Father Flynn came and took her away. He said it was the only way to save her soul from mortal sin.”

  I took a deep breath and told him the story beginning with what I had found after I returned to the house that morning and finishing up with the look on Grainne’s face as Father Flynn took her away. I began to cry.

  “There wasn’t a thing I could do to help her, Joel. I just stood there and watched her go.”

  “Doesn’t sound like there’s much you could have done.”

  “At least I could have gone with her. Maybe we could have given Father Flynn the slip.”

  “It wouldn’t have been a permanent solution, Sheila,” said Joel gently. “They would have found you eventually and would have taken her away again.”

  “You’re right; I know you are. But I just can’t get rid of the guilt.”

  Joel stood up and came and sat on the arm of my chair. He put his hand on my shoulder. “It will be all right, Sheila. Just go on home. From what you tell me of Grainne, she has the grit to look after herself.”

  “You don’t know what it’s like with the nuns. Once you’re in there everybody forgets about you and you never get out again. Or you go astray in the head and they throw you out just like oul’ Mad Biddy on Hill Street.”

  “Where’s her mother?” said Joel.

  “Och, don’t ask. The mother is a whore in Belfast. She wants nothing to do with Grainne.”

  Joel stood up. “It’s a sad state of affairs. But it’s not your business, Sheila. You’re not related to her.”

  A sudden anger rose in me and I lashed out at him. “Aren’t you the hypocrite? You’re the one always saying about how we have to save the Jews from terrible things beyond in Europe, particularly the children. Shouldn’t we care just as much about the likes of Grainne?”

  Joel was annoyed. “It’s not the same thing at all.”

  We said nothing for a while. The big clock I had passed in the hallway chimed the hour. I looked up at Joel.

  “I want to go away with you, Joel, really I do. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. But can I just go now and leave Grainne behind? Would that be a right thing to do at all?”

  Joel’s face tightened. “I can’t tell you what to do, Sheila. I want you to come with me to England, but I cannot force you against your will.”

  I could feel my frustration building. I needed him to reassure me that it was all right to go, but he was refusing to do so.

  “I’ll have it on my conscience the whole time.”

  A flash of anger shot across Joel’s face. “I must say you have hidden your conscience very well up until now. You haven’t shown much concern for others.”

  His words cut like a knife. What was he talking about? I stood up.

  “Is that what you think of me? Is that so? Well you’re right. I have no conscience. Otherwise I would not have been using you to get me out of this place. Any Yank would have done, but you just happened to come along…”

  Oh Jesus, what was I saying? I put my hands out towards him but he backed away. “I didn’t mean that…,” I began.

  “I’m afraid you did, Sheila.” I couldn’t read what was in his voice. “Deep down I realized you were using me but I was hoping that… in time… you would come to love me for myself. And after last night, well, I was more hopeful. But I was wrong, wasn’t I?”

  I was frightened now. “Och, Joel. It might have been that way at first, but things were changing; they really were…”

  He sighed and walked over to the sideboard and poured himself a brandy. He turned back to me.

  “Well, it’s just as well the truth has come out now and not later when you’re stuck with me in England. Go home, Sheila. Go home and decide what it is you really want. Are you using Grainne’s situation as an excuse not to go with me, or do you really care what happens to the girl? I’d like to think the latter is true, but as they say, a leopard doesn’t change its spots. It’s not like you to let a little matter like that stand in your way. Perhaps it’s your friend Gavin you don’t want to leave. Whatever it is, just promise me something. Be honest with yourself, and with all of us. We’ll all be the better off for it.”

  I was stunned. Was it over? What had I done? Joel walked over and took my arm and helped me out of the chair. Without a word he led me back down the hall and out the door. He picked up my bicycle and wheeled it across the courtyard as he had done before. He saluted the young private in the hut and handed me my bicycle.

  “It’s best if we don’t see each other before I leave for England,” he said. “I hope I’ll be back in Ireland before I have to see action. But if that is not the case… who knows… I always want you to remember me kindly, Sheila, as I’ll remem
ber you.”

  I couldn’t see his face in the dark, but I suspected there were tears in his eyes. I was fighting back my own. I felt the same sadness as the day my da left me at the pier. I could find no words. I nodded towards him and climbed on my bicycle and rode away down the driveway and out onto the main road. I did not look back.

  Instead of going back to Queensbrook, I went to the place I always went to when I was in need of refuge. Dawn broke over the Flagstaff, painting the sky and water red. Birds awoke and began to sing. I sat down on a bench and looked out over the lough. Somewhere in the distance a ship’s horn sounded. I buried my face in my hands. I heard Joel’s voice. “Remember me.”

  “Och, Joel, I never meant to hurt you.”

  Something I didn’t understand had cracked open inside me, like an egg, and spilled out. I knew I would never be the same.

  Chapter 17

  Habit is often the only thing that saves us from going mad. That morning my body took over from my mind and led me to the mill. I made no conscious decision to go there. I was not capable of such a thing as a decision. My mind was empty and numb. I thought nothing, felt nothing. And so habit came to my rescue. It steered me firmly towards the mill along with my fellow workers, all of us heeding the horn that summoned us as if to religious service.

  Patsy stared at me with her mouth open. I looked down at my crumpled dress and muddy boots. I’d had no time to change my clothes that morning. I’d arrived back in Queensbrook just as the mill horn was blasting. There was only enough time to splash some cold water on my face and drag myself out of the house and up the road to the mill.