House of Memories
Page 24
After the long years of trouble between themselves and the farm across the river, it was good to see the altar candles glow in Nellie Phelan’s brass candlesticks and to know that the lace-edged cloth was the work of Emily’s hands. Emily, whose friendship had been the original link between the two houses. But the betrayal of that friendship had led to years of trouble and division, and now they had come the full circle, and it was her son Jack who had healed the wounds. He was glad, too, that Kate had decided to have the table that she had bought for the entrance hall used as the altar. It was as if this station altar was a darning back together of their many strands. Then Fr Brady broke into his meandering.
“This is a very special occasion. With this mass we are celebrating many things, but most of all we are celebrating a homecoming. Molly Barry left this house many years ago, and her dream was that one day she would come back. Well, today, due to the courage and determination of her grandson Danny, who never lost sight of her dream, it has happened. He fought against the odds and got there, but he was lucky, and he was also blessed with good neighbours. No man is an island, and I think that the restoration of this house has proved that. We all need each other in our struggle through life, and maybe the question that will be asked of us when we arrive at the end of our journey is ‘How many did you help along the way?’ If Jack Tobin, whom we buried recently, was asked that question, many of us here, including Danny, could give testimony for him. He reached the hand of friendship across the river and joined two families whom difficult times had separated. Today we pray for all who were part of that division. We pray for Rory and Matt Conway that they may have peace and that those of us left behind may have the grace of forgiveness. We remember especially Molly Barry Conway, and we pray that Danny, Mary, Kitty and their mother Brigid will have long years of peace and happiness in this house.”
After the mass some of the men were shepherded by Brigid into the dining room, but many of them made their escape and headed for the yard on what Danny knew was a tour of inspection. He smiled to see that Shiner was part of the posse. He wished he could be with them! But he had to sit down beside Fr Burke, who looked at him sourly and proceeded to talk past him to David, on his left. Brigid was having difficulty in filling up her table, and Danny could understand why because nobody felt at ease with the overbearing Fr Burke. But then Martha sailed in and Danny had to smile, because it was mostly the men who breakfasted with the priests, which was exactly why she chose to do so. She soon turned the conversation to her visit to New York and told them vivid stories of her trip. He had never imagined that she could be so entertaining. There were many sides to Martha, but he hoped that he would never have to cross swords with her.
That evening when all the neighbours had gone home, his mother and the girls walked back with Agnes to see Mark’s paintings. Alone in the house, he went in under the stairs and brought out Mark’s parcel. He had given him the old picture, and now his heart was beating with excitement as he peeled off the wrapping. He whistled in appreciation when he saw the rich oil painting. It was stunning! The faded old picture was transformed into a living canvas, and a vibrant young girl with a halo of red hair looked out at him. He went back under the stairs and brought out the picture from the auction and carefully removed the glass and the bishop. With rising excitement, he fitted in the portrait and then rested the frame against the leg of the table and stood back. The deep frame and painting were a perfect combination, the gilt picking up the golden glow of Molly’s hair. It filled him with delight. Taking her diary out of his pocket, he slipped it in behind her and then eased the bishop back into position. He hung the portrait over the hall table, and her beautiful face smiled down at him out of a blaze of red hair. She dominated the hall.
He smiled up at her and said, “Welcome home, Molly Barry.”
Also by Alice Taylor
Memoirs
To School Through the Fields
Quench the Lamp
The Village
Country Days
The Night Before Christmas
Poetry
The Way We Are
Close to the Earth
Going to the Well
Fiction
The Woman of the House
Across the River
Essays
A Country Miscellany
Diary
An Irish Country Diary
Children’s
The Secrets of the Oak
Copyright
This eBook edition first published 2013 by Brandon,
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First published 2005 by Brandon
Copyright © Alice Taylor 2005
eBook ISBN: 978–1–84717–532–8
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