“So, what’s the craic?” He set two glasses of lager on the table and sat down opposite me.
I relaxed a little. Maybe this would be easier than I thought. I studied his face. There was no anger in it but no pleasure either. He sipped his drink and said nothing.
“Thanks for coming,” I began. “I need your help, Gavin.”
He raised an eyebrow and waited.
“It’s about wee Grainne. Father Flynn brought her to the convent and who knows what will happen to her in that place. They do awful things to girls in there. I need you to help me get her out.”
“But what about Joel the Jew?” he said, his voice full of sarcasm. “A man in his position ought to be—”
“Stop calling him that,” I interrupted. “And anyway he’s not here. He’s gone to England.”
“So you came running to me.” Gavin shrugged his shoulders. “Sorry, Sheila, it’s not my business to get involved.”
My frustration threatened to choke me. “Jesus, Gavin,” I said, “d’you want me to get down on my knees and beg you? This isn’t for me; it’s for the girl.”
Gavin had a decent side. I’d always known that. I prayed that it would get the better of his anger and jealousy. “Please hear me out, Gavin.”
“Talk away. It’ll make no difference.”
I took a deep breath. As the story tumbled out, Gavin’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t say a word until I had finished. Then he stood up and began pacing back and forth. He turned and glared at me.
“And you let the priest take her?” he shouted. “Jesus, Sheila, how could you stand by and let her go?”
His sudden accusation caught me by surprise. “And what was I supposed to do?” I said. “Stand up to the police and the priest and the rest of them? How was I supposed to do that, tell me?”
“Don’t be giving me excuses, Sheila. You’re a selfish wee bitch. I’m surprised you’re even still worrying about her.”
His words stung. A selfish bitch was what my mother often called me and it triggered something wild in me now. I stood up to face him.
“For your information I just came from the convent and the head nun threw me out. You have no notion what it took for me to go near that place. And on top of that I refused Joel’s offer to go with him to England on account of Grainne, so you’ve no right calling me a selfish bitch.”
I hadn’t meant to mention anything about Joel, but Gavin’s accusation had goaded me into it. I slumped back down in my chair, my breath ragged from the effort of shouting. Gavin looked me up and down with a disgust I had never seen from him.
“Well, well,” he began, “so your scheme worked, did it? You got the man to fall for it.” He shook his head. “I didn’t like him, but I thought he was smarter than that.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. Joel loves me and he wanted me to go away with him. And when the war’s over he plans to marry me.”
“And so now you want a medal for refusing his offer so as you could protect the girl?” He chuckled. “You’re so used to fooling others, Sheila, you’ve finally fooled yourself. You didn’t refuse him because you were worried about Grainne. There’s more to it than that.”
“What? D’you think maybe it was because I’m in love with you?” I laughed out loud. “Now who’s fooling himself?”
I wanted to hurt him. He had made me angry, accusing me of being selfish and questioning me when he had no right to. His face turned red and then pale again. He sat down and became very still. I looked around the pub. Our fight had drawn the attention of the few patrons who were there. Nosy bastards, I thought. I stood up.
“I thought our friendship counted for something, but I can see I was wrong. I won’t be bothering you again.”
I turned and walked to the door, ignoring the stares of the men at the bar. I opened it slowly, giving Gavin time to come after me. But he didn’t move.
During the days that followed I waited for something to happen. I knew it was only a matter of time until everything blew up around me. I was still living in the house at Queensbrook, but you could have cut the tension with a knife. I had spat out an apology to Kevin in front of Aunt Kate. They both knew I had not meant a word of it. Ma tried to hug me after I did it, but I shook her off. I would not have said anything at all, but as it was I had no place else to go. I had burned my bridges with Joel and with Gavin.
I was also waiting to see what would happen with Grainne. I went over and over in my mind my conversation with Gavin. If I had never brought up Joel and all the rest of it maybe I could have persuaded him to help. But I could hardly blame him for not lifting a finger after all I had said to him. I couldn’t settle to anything, so anxious was I to see Grainne released. Anxious? I told myself it was because I cared so much about the girl. But what if Gavin had been right and I needed to know my sacrifice had been worth it? If nothing happened and she stayed up in the convent, how would I live with myself knowing I had sacrificed my one chance at freedom for nothing? It was a selfish attitude, I knew. But I had never thought of myself as anything other than selfish. Gavin was right. I was a selfish wee bitch. That’s why the truth of his words had stung me so much. But being selfish was how I had protected myself all these years. The thoughts tumbled around in my head until I thought I would go mad.
Then one night a knock came to the door. I opened it, and there stood Gavin, a look of triumph on his face, and beside him, Grainne, her head bowed and looking thinner than ever.
“Jesus!” I cried. “How…?”
Gavin put up his hand. “Better you don’t know,” he said. “Let’s just say I called in one or two favors.”
Instinctively I looked over their heads, expecting to see Father Flynn glowing like the devil in the darkness. But there was no sign of anyone else.
“Is that Gavin? Don’t keep him standing on the doorstep, love.” Ma’s voice brought me back to reality.
I opened the door wide. “Come in,” I said, reaching out to take Grainne’s small case from her. “You look famished. Come in and get something to eat.”
The odd protective feelings were back again as I looked at the girl. She was pale and silent. God love her, I thought, she must be frightened to death. God knows what they did and said to her up at that place. I turned back to Gavin.
“So what happened? Who got her out?”
Gavin turned up the collar of his coat. “I’ve to be going now to get ready to sail,” he said, ignoring my question. “There’s an early tide in the morning. They won’t be coming after her. I made sure of that.” He turned and walked away.
“Who is it, Sheila?” Aunt Kate’s voice drifted down the stairs from above. She and Kevin were already in bed.
“Oh, just Gavin,” I called back. “He had a message for me. He’s away home now.”
I put my finger over my lips to warn Ma to keep quiet. I hurried Grainne to the granny room at the back of the house.
“Get into bed now, there’s a good girl. And keep quiet.”
I closed the door and came back out into the parlor.
Ma waited for me. She was trembling. “She can’t stay, you know. She’ll get us all thrown out and then what will become of us? Sweet Jesus, I can’t live like this, Sheila, and me not a well woman. I can’t. You have to get rid of her before they see her.”
I nodded. “Good night, Ma,” was all I said.
I brought a slice of bread and some cheese and set it down on the table beside Grainne, but she ignored it. I sighed and turned out the light. In the darkness I could hear her breathing. She was not asleep, I knew, but I was in no mood to ask her questions, and I supposed she’d be in no mood to answer them. There’d be plenty of time for that later. For now, I had to find a way to keep her presence a secret, but I knew that was not going to work for very long. And when Kevin and Kate spied her, all hell would break loose.
The deception lasted exactly eight hours. At six o’clock the next morning, Aunt Kate threw open the door of the granny room and be
gan to scream. You would have thought she’d seen a ghost. Her banshee wails could have wakened the dead. Ma flew down the stairs, her nightdress flapping at her ankles. She was followed by Kevin, a day’s growth of beard on his big, ruddy face.
“What in God’s name…?” he began.
“I knew it,” cried Aunt Kate. “I knew she was back in the house. I could feel the evil presence of her.” She ran over and tore the bedclothes off Grainne and myself. “Get out!” she cried. “Get out of that bed and out of my house! How dare you come sneaking back in here like a thief in the night?”
Kate was screeching now. I stared at her in astonishment. She had lost her head altogether. I knew she’d be upset when she saw Grainne, but I never expected this kind of carry-on. Instinctively I reached over and pulled Grainne to me to try to protect her from Aunt Kate’s fists. Even Kevin tried to restrain her.
“Now, now, love,” he said, coming up behind her and grabbing her arms, “we’ll have her back up to the convent in no time. Calm yourself, now.”
Grainne sprang from my grip. “I’ll not go back to that place!” she shouted. “Never! You may kill me first.” Her eyes blazed as she looked from one to the other. “I didn’t ask to come here. And it’s the last place I want to stay.”
She leaped out of bed in one movement and I saw she had not even undressed. She reached down and grabbed her suitcase and then elbowed her way past everybody and out the door.
“Wait!” I shouted. “Grainne, wait!”
I couldn’t let the child leave alone. Where would she go?
“Wait. I’ll go with you.”
I scrambled into some clothes and raced after Grainne. Ma was sobbing but I ignored her. I had no time for her self-pity. When I reached the street Grainne stood there as if deciding which way to go. Without thinking, I ran over to a neighbor’s house and took the bicycle that leaned against the wall.
“Here!” I called to her. “Ride this.”
Then I picked up my own bicycle and threw my leg over the bar.
“C’mon!” I yelled to Grainne. “Just follow me.”
I gave no thought to where I was going, save to get us both away from the house. Kevin and Kate and Ma stood outside the front door watching us with their mouths open. They looked comical, as if they belonged in a play. But there was nothing funny about the situation. I really feared at that moment for Grainne’s life. Kate had lost her mind altogether. Who knows what she might have done to the girl?
At first I automatically pedaled towards the Flagstaff, but as I calmed down I realized that I needed to take Grainne to a place where, for the moment, she would be safe. I turned off the Fathom Road and rode towards Omeath and Gavin’s house. He was out at sea, I knew, but he never locked the door of his cottage. Grainne could stay there until I could find a place for her. And for me too, I thought. There’d be no going back to Queensbrook now for me either.
After I had settled Grainne into Gavin’s house and made her promise to stay there, I turned around and pedaled back to Queensbrook and the mill. When I arrived I looked down at myself. I had thrown on an old, torn dress and stuffed my feet into a pair of Ma’s old boots that lay on the floor. At least I had thought to pull on a coat. But my hair was uncombed, my face unwashed, and I wore no makeup. I would have given the ghosts on Halloween a fright.
I waited outside the mill for Ma. She was white as a ghost herself.
“Ma?” I said as I came up to her.
She jumped and clutched her breast. “Sheila? You frightened the life out of me. What are you doing here?”
“Going to bloody work the same as you are.”
She clutched my arm. “You can’t come back to the house,” she said. “Or we’ll both be thrown out.”
“Don’t worry. I’ve no intention of it. But I need you to bring my clothes up to me tomorrow morning. I’ve only got what’s on my back at the minute. Will you do that?”
She looked as wary as a rabbit. “I…” She hesitated.
“For Christ’s sake, Ma, I’m not asking you to blow up a bank. Just bring me my bloody clothes.”
She began to wail. “Oh, what’s going to happen to me? What in God’s name will become of me now? What have I done to deserve this?”
For once I was glad when the mill horn blew. It drowned her out. Whether she would bring me the clothes I would have to wait and see. I thought about the bit of money I had saved that was hidden in a drawer in the granny room along with my prize money. I’d have to find a way to get it later.
And to think I could have been in England by now away from all this madness, I thought. Not for the first time.
Chapter 19
When Gavin returned from sea he did not seem surprised to find Grainne and me in his house. Nothing was said about our meeting at O’Hare’s. I recounted what had happened when Kate discovered Grainne in the Queensbrook house and he listened without expression. Grainne watched us as I told Gavin the story. She had hardly said a word since we had arrived at the cottage. But as promised, she had not tried to leave either. Poor mite, I thought, where would she go? I was on tenterhooks up at the mill, waiting for Father Flynn to sweep in and drag me out of there in front of everybody.
“You have a great imagination so you have, Sheila,” Gavin said.
“It’s not so far-fetched. I’m surprised it hasn’t happened before now.”
Gavin shook his head. “He’ll not be coming for you, or for Grainne. I told you, I’ve seen to that.”
“But how? You can’t tell the priest what to do.”
“Maybe I can’t. But there’s others can.”
“Who?”
Gavin shrugged and got up to make tea. “Best you don’t know.”
He had said that before—the night he brought Grainne home from the convent. And again I was riddled with curiosity. But it was no good asking. He’d never tell me.
“We can’t stay here with you forever, Gavin,” I said. I hated the thought of asking him for help again, but I had nobody else to turn to.
“You could. There’s nobody hurrying you out.”
“Live here with a man, and us not married? What would that do to my reputation? I’d be destroyed altogether.” I smiled as I spoke, trying to lighten the mood.
“Oh, aye, I suppose you’re right there. You do have a high standard to uphold. After all, you’re still the Linen Queen!” I detected the sarcasm in his voice but I ignored it.
“Not for long, I suppose,” I said. “They’ll find a way to take it away from me. God knows they’ve been trying hard enough. Mary McAteer runs to her ma with every bit of gossip about me. Imagine if they found out I was staying at your house?”
“Well, then, I suppose the sooner we find you a place the better.”
The place turned out to be a row house in a part of Newry called the Valley. From the sound of the name you would imagine the Valley lay at the foot of sloping green hills, surrounded by trees, and maybe a stream. Far from it. The Valley in Newry was an area of old gray terraced houses, huddled together like war-weary soldiers. Mrs. Gloria Hollywood, seventy years old and spry as a fairy, lived at number 6 Walker’s Row, a dead-end street of small houses that backed up to a stone wall behind which ran the railway lines. She was the stepmother of Alphonse Hollywood, a ruddy-faced sailor who had worked for Gavin’s da for years and now sailed with Gavin. He was a lifelong bachelor who until recently had lived with his ma. But now, according to Mrs. Hollywood, he had taken up with a fancy woman and was living in sin with her when he was in port. So Mrs. Hollywood had an empty room and was glad of the company.
The first evening that Gavin brought Grainne and me round to her, she opened the door wide and cackled like an old goose.
“Well, there you are, Gavin. As handsome as ever, aren’t you? And two pretty girls alongside you. Come in my dears, come in!”
I was surprised at her English accent. She threw open the front door and ran ahead of us into a small parlor, turning on the lamps as she went. I stopped dead
when I saw the room. It was pink. All pink! The sofa, the chairs, the cushions, the curtains, the fringed lampshades, all pink! I couldn’t help but giggle. Grainne looked around with her mouth open, and Gavin shrugged and grinned.
“I suppose I should have warned you,” he said.
“It’s gorgeous!” I said.
Mrs. Hollywood laughed aloud. “It’s a happy little room, isn’t it? My Alphonse hated it, so I hardly ever let him set his arse down in it. He had no appreciation for it at all.” She clapped her small hands together. “Come on now, girls, let me show you where you’ll be sleeping. Mind the stairs now.”
She led the way up a crooked wooden staircase into the attic. I held my breath. A pink parlor was one thing, a pink bedroom, however… But the room was dark and plain. It was tiny, but immaculate—cleaner even than Aunt Kate’s—even though she had prided herself on the state of her house. “Cleanliness is next to godliness,” as she’d say.
“Will this suit you?” There was a double bed and a small single bed, a chest of drawers, and a good-sized wardrobe all crammed into the room. A skylight was cut into the slanted ceiling, and the floor was covered in worn linoleum.
“The lavatory is out in the yard,” Mrs. Hollywood continued. “Two houses to one lav. I share it with the Cowans next door. Lovely, clean people, they is.”
I swallowed hard. Well, beggars can’t be choosers, I thought.
“It’s grand,” I said. And then I hesitated. “How much do you want for it?”
Mrs. Hollywood clutched her small hands to her pink cardigan. Her skin was white as parchment, and her round cheeks rosy pink with rouge. She looked like a Christmas doll.
“Oh, lovey, I’m just glad of the company. Gavin here told me the whole story about you girls.”
For a moment I thought she was going to say we could stay there for nothing. But she was not as soft as she looked. “Would two pound a week for the two of you suit? That will include your meals and a packed lunch.”
The Linen Queen Page 20