To Catch a Dream

by Mary Wood

  ‘To be sure it will be like our Fenian days, Paddy. Well, you can count me in.’

  ‘Thank you, Neil. Now, what about the rest of you? There’ll be a good payday to come, once I’ve shifted the stuff. It’ll be like a year’s pay, so don’t be worrying if any of you have to miss a shift or two. We’ll have to invent a sickness to take us all out of action. I’ve to arrange funds for the train fare for us, so anything you can chip in would be a help. So, are you all in?’

  ‘I am, but ’tis as I think we should go further. You know where Seamus has set up in Ireland, Paddy?’

  ‘I do. What are you thinking, Neil?’

  ‘That Bridie O’Hara should pay her just dues to the cause. Exposed as the traitor she is, like her father before her.’

  As the ‘ayes’ went around the room, accompanied by cries of ‘Let’s rid ourselves of the vermin that is Seamus Finney and Bridie O’Hara!’ and like comments, Issy crept back along the passageway. The shock of what she’d heard tightened the muscles in her throat. Somehow she had to draw on her inner strength and see this through. If she didn’t, she’d have no chance of saving Bridie! Leaving the pub wasn’t an option, because Paddy’s wife might berate him for not coming home and tell him of Issy promising to fetch him; and he knew of her loyalty to the wives, so Paddy would wonder if she had set out to fetch him and then heard more than she should.

  The fear of this happening made Issy’s mind up about what she had to do. When she reached the open door, she banged it shut. Calling out to Paddy, she approached the snug again, hoping they would believe she’d just arrived. If they knew she’d heard, her life would be in danger – there was nothing as sure as that.

  Paddy came to the door. ‘Isabella, is that yourself? Is it good news you bring me?’

  It was easy to give her reply, as Paddy showed no sign of concern at her being there. Once she’d told him of his seventh son’s safe arrival, she turned away to leave. ‘I’ll come by later, Paddy, just to make sure Margaret is all right.’

  ‘Aye, ’tis a debt I owe you, me wee lass.’ He followed her out, telling his men he’d be in later. Trepidation caused sweat to stand out on her forehead, but when they were outside, his manner gave her no cause to worry. ‘Ha, is that you still riding that old boneshaker, Isabella? Sure it will rattle your teeth loose one of these days! It must be twenty years old if it’s a day. I’ll tell you what I’ll do for you. If ever I make me fortune, I’ll buy you one of the new safety bicycles, so I will.’

  ‘Aw, Paddy, I’ll not hold me breath. They say as men will grow wings one day and’ll fly around like the birds do. And thou knows what? I reckon that day will come afore you keep that promise to me.’

  As she adjusted the pedals of her bike, he walked away, and she could hear him laughing at her retort. If he’d suspected her, he’d have said something – threatened her even – but surely he wouldn’t just have walked away?

  ‘There, didn’t I tell you how lovely it was?’

  Bridie gazed down at the little croft in the deep valley that Seamus pointed out. County Kerry held many such places. It was sad to think of them being abandoned. The fight to change the Land Act had come to nothing, and many had deserted the area in despair, seeking a better life in America or across the water in England.

  ‘The landlord was powerfully glad to get someone willing to take it on, so he was. We’re going to take to the land as farmers, Bridie. Oh, I know we won’t make much and ’tis hard work, but we’ll be having the benefit of the money I have and the jewellery as I’m going to sell, so our life won’t be marred by the poverty.’

  ‘’Tis beautiful. Just look at the lovely views around us. But I’m thinking there is a lot to do to make it habitable.’

  ‘No, you’re wrong there, Bridie. I’ve been back and forth this good while and have fixed it up inside. The outside doesn’t show signs of that, but that’s all we have to do to complete the job.’

  Seamus steered the pony and trap down the gentle slope, his skill ensuring they didn’t hit any of the many boulders strewn along the way. Bridie thought of all the years he’d done this with his Vardo and asked, ‘Will you not be for missing your travels, Seamus?’

  ‘No, for I’ve been wanting to settle this good while. I have friends around here from me days attached to the Fenians. Sure it is all out now about what went on back in the day, and everyone knows your pappy stitched me up. I’ve not been for telling them who you are, Bridie, as some would be for bringing down the sins of the father onto you. We’ll keep it that way. It is for the best.’

  ‘So, the tide has turned and ’tis me who is in hiding now. Well, I never expected that, so I didn’t.’

  Seamus unlocked the huge chain keeping the heavy gate closed. Once inside, the clang of the gate shutting behind them planted a dread in Bridie, and the jangling of the chain as Seamus relocked it only increased her trepidation. The walls on each side continued on from the farmyard buildings – barns and a stable – forming an enclosure all around the croft. The walls hadn’t looked this high, when she’d looked down from the top of the hill. Here and there new stones stood out amongst the old ones where Seamus had made repairs, and these too marked a layer of at least three feet, extending its overall height. To Bridie, the yard resembled a prison. The thought sent a shudder down her spine.

  ‘Why did you think to build the wall so high, Seamus? Won’t it block the light and our view from our windows?’

  ‘I was for thinking it would be useful to protect you while I am away.’

  He helped her and Bridget down. The oppressive aura seemed worse from ground level, although the croft belied this. Her heart lifted when they entered it. The door led them into a kitchen. Its stone walls, newly whitewashed, reflected the light from the two windows – one facing the entrance, the other opposite and looking out onto a smaller yard, where she could see a small brick building near to the wall.

  ‘That’s the lav. It drains into a cesspit on the other side of the wall. It works well and it’s easy to keep the smell away from the house. The well is out the front, by the side of the barn. I’ve a chicken run there. The hens, a cockerel and other livestock are all on order.’

  ‘It’s busy you’ve been, to be sure, and it all looks lovely.’ Everything shone like new, which she supposed it was. Gleaming pots and pans hung on iron hooks next to a large cooking range. Paper and sticks lay ready in the grate. Seamus crossed over to it and lit it. Eager flames licked the kettle standing on the iron stand, as he swung it over them. Shadows danced around the room. He waited a moment, then added a log from the pile on the floor, which splintered the flames into a million sparks that cracked and spat a warm welcome. Bridie looked around. Shelves on the other side of the pans held earthenware jars that she assumed contained jams, flour and other provisions. Plates and mugs made a colourful display on a dresser on one wall, and next to it another shelf held all the ornamental jugs and painted pottery she remembered from Mrs Finney’s Vardo. And there, amongst it all, the tea caddy! The sight of this had her swallowing hard to dispel the sentimental feeling it conjured up in her, jeopardizing her resolve to stay brave for the sake of little Bridget. She looked away from it.

  A scrubbed table stood in the middle of the room on a floor of painted red-brick, the sheen on which spoke of many hours of polishing them. A high-backed wooden chair had pride of place on one side of the range, and a stool on the other. All the room lacked was some finishing touches, and she looked forward to putting them in. Didn’t she know now, through Issy’s tuition, how to make a rag rug? And the chairs needed cushions, and the windows and table needed curtains, a tablecloth and a vase of flowers. To be sure, she’d have the prettiest kitchen in Ireland.

  A door across from the range led through to the bedroom, where she found a large bed. And, like the old Miners’ Row where the Irish now lived in Breckton, this room had a loft space reached by a ladder. Seamus saw her look up at it. ‘There’s nothing up there, and ’tis in need of a lot of work, but
it can be made ready for Bridget when she is older. In the meantime, we can make her a shake-me-down. There’s some dry hay in the barn, and I have some hessian sacks. Sure, ’tis as she’ll be warm and cosy next to our bed, and ’tis best she is by your side till she gets used to her new home. Whenever I’m after going into town, I’ll buy her a crib.’

  The way he was with Bridget didn’t fit with the tales she’d heard about his abducting children. Nothing about him these last few days spoke of the Seamus he’d become. Instead, the Seamus of old seemed to have made his way back inside the mind of him.

  But seeing again the tall, grey wall so near to the bedroom window shook this theory. The wall held a threat, and the confidence that had started to grow in Bridie since coming into the croft began to fade.

  She looked away. Her eyes fell on the bed, awakening her mind to the thought of her and Seamus cuddled up in it. As if reading her mind he said, ‘I’m after thinking you’re having the same thoughts as I am, Bridie?’ He moved nearer to her and took her hands. ‘I haven’t been for touching you yet, Bridie. I’ve a powerful need to do so. And, like I was for telling you, I no longer feel we have to wait till we wed.’

  Resigned now to his assumption that they’d spend their life together, she tried to reach into herself to touch the feelings awoken in her when she remembered the past. His eyes drew hers to him, and in them she saw his desire. It fuelled her own need, and left a promise inside of her. He smiled as he said, ‘’Tis happy we are going to be, me wee Bridie. We’ll put everything that has gone before away from us. We’ll be after having a new beginning. No one can hurt us here. No temptations can lead you astray from me.’

  Indignation lit her temper. ‘Is that you saying again I am a whore, Seamus? Well, I am not. Sure, the likes of Mr Harvey turned me head when I was at me most vulnerable, but before him I stayed faithful to Will. I’m heart-sore me body let me down, and wish I could wipe the incident out of me life.’

  ‘’Tisn’t a fight I am looking for, Bridie. ’Tis true you have to build me trust, but it will come.’

  ‘Is that why you’ve been after building a fortress? Because you don’t trust me? Are you thinking to keep me prisoner here?’

  No answer came. Turning, he walked towards the kitchen. She followed him through, ready to take him to task again about the wall, but she caught sight of Bridget sitting under the table, her eyes red from rubbing them.

  ‘Will you see to your child and leave the talking? We can straighten out everything later. And a drop of tea would be welcome, so it would.’

  The door slammed behind him. She watched him cross the yard and start to unload the cart. Bridget crawled out, saying, ‘Mammy, I’m wet . . .’

  This made her smile. ‘Oh, is that all? Well, then it is a christening for our new home.’ She took Bridget in her arms and held her to her. ‘Come on, let’s find some dry things for you. Did you hear about the chickens Seamus has brought for us? Sure, it will be your job to feed them, so it will.’

  ‘But, Mammy, I don’t know what they eat, and I can’t cook. I’m not big enough yet, am I?’

  ‘No, but you won’t have to. Seamus will give you a bowl of food for them. You’ll just have to scatter it in their run. Oh, and fill up their water, but it’s easy, so it is. I used to do it as a little girl with me mammy.’

  ‘Granna is Pappy’s mammy? Where’s your mammy?’

  Oh, Bridie, you’ve started something . . . ‘Away with such talk, and let’s clean you up. We’ve tea to make for Seamus, and all our things to unpack. We’ve no time for gossip. I’ll be after telling you of it another day.’

  With Bridget’s needs seen to, and the kettle boiling so hard it lifted its own lid in protest, Bridie reached for the tea caddy. Opening the cask gave her a moment of clarity. The filigree at the top of the little key, with its delicate interlaced lines, symbolized all the twists and turns in her life since she’d first seen it all those years ago. Some of the happenings she knew she could have handled differently, but others had been inflicted on her, and they were the ones responsible for shaping her. They and the insatiable need she had in her.

  Everything had fitted in well; for a small cottage, it had plenty of storage. A cart had pulled up and Seamus had helped the man unload provisions – enough, Bridie thought, to keep them going for weeks. But then it was likely there weren’t many tradesmen who would come out this far on a regular run. Seamus didn’t let the delivery man anywhere near the front door, carrying it all through the yard himself. Now, with the last of it away and Bridget asleep on her shake-me-down, they sat on the bench in the yard. The sun of the late July evening held a pleasant warmth. Seamus outlined his plans for the farm, lulling her into a sense of security. ‘But first I have to make me trip back to England,’ he said.

  ‘Seamus, I’m afraid of that time. Afraid of not having you here to protect us, and afraid of the news I know you will bring me about Will.’ She told him of the presence that had visited her on the boat.

  ‘’Tis sorry I am to have dragged you away from your man afore he had his last days, but in the end I had no choice. I wasn’t for coming without you, Bridie, but your own action caused me to do it sooner than I had planned.’

  She didn’t take him up on this. They could go over and over him finding her with Andrew, but wasn’t the whole thing causing her pain enough, with the guilt of what the consequences had been?

  ‘Would you mind if I made a little garden for Will? I think it will be helping Bridget – and me – to come to terms with it. A little place we can plant flowers for him and talk to him, like . . . a grave.’ The word choked from her as she lost her battle against the tears. Her body crumpled.

  ‘Bridie, me little Bridie, ’tis right you should let it out, for the pain of grieving is a powerful one.’ His arms enclosed her. ‘Wasn’t I for having the pleasure of meeting your man long before you did?’

  ‘Will? You met my Will!’

  ‘Aye, sure it was, he was grieving for his pappy . . .’

  Bridie listened to the amazing tale of how Seamus had come across Will in the ginnel; but even more incredulous to her was that they had discussed Bruiser! Somehow the story calmed her, and it was nice to think of them in that other life, chatting and helping one another. For didn’t he say as Will told him how he should tackle Bruiser, if he came up against him, and Seamus had been for stopping to talk when he’d found Will in his darkest moment?

  ‘Did you like that little snippet then, Bridie?’

  ‘Aye, I did.’

  ‘Well, I held a respect in me for Will from that day, and more so when I found out what he’d done to save a young woman’s life. Are you knowing of that?’

  ‘Yes, Will told me.’

  ‘So it will be grand – and an honour – to have a remembrance garden for him. But I am thinking we can section it and dedicate areas to all those we want to think of, like me grandmother and your mammy.’

  ‘And me little Eric.’

  ‘Aye, I mind the time you told me of him. You’ve had your share of troubles, Bridie. Maybe I shouldn’t be at blaming you for how you have run your life.’

  ‘’Tis as you have run yours like a saint, then? As from what I have heard, you are cousin to the Devil himself!’

  ‘’Tis true. I’m not the one who should stand in judgement, but wasn’t you for knowing me character? You started out with such purity and beauty in yours.’

  ‘Sure, but I didn’t know you, Seamus – not the you that is before me now, I didn’t. ’Tis as I can accept most of what I hear about you, but the abduction of wee children! Why did you do that, and what happened to them?’

  ‘I wasn’t for abducting them; their fathers sold their wee ones to me. They had to have some way of explaining it to their womenfolk.’

  ‘They sold them?’

  ‘Yes. Sure enough, they had plenty of them. And I delivered them to a life they would never have known back there in Breckton. A good life, with rich folk who would love them. Childless f
olk in America, who thought they were Irish orphans, and that the payment they gave for them would help others in the same situation.’

  Bridie didn’t know how to react to this. It was for sure a better life those little ones would have had, but if she tried for a year and a day she’d not get Seamus to see the wrong in it. ‘Is that the reason you came back?’

  ‘’Tis. That, and me need to find you. I have a friend out there, a pastor of some religion or other – there are many in America. He worked as an adoption agent. I told him of the large Irish families and the poverty of them, and ’twas he as suggested offering them money to part with one or more of their brood. His wife would pose as a nun and sail over here, so all I had to do was take them to her. ’Twas easy for her to take them on board, as they all took her to be one of those Sisters of Mercy, so they did.’

  Bridie could see no mercy in the actions of this pastor’s wife, nor in what Seamus had done to introduce this form of prosperity to the men of Ireland and the Irish community in Breckton, but when she thought of those callous fathers . . .

  ‘Let’s leave it now, Bridie. We can rake over the wrongs and rights of it for many a day and not justify any of it. Are you thinking you would like a drop of gin?’

  ‘Haven’t I been longing for some this good while? Where is it you keep it?’

  ‘I’m not for saying. ’Tis as you need to have your consumption of it tethering stronger than a horseman would have to tie a stallion when there’s a mare on heat in the next stable.’

  ‘So, ’tis me all the rules are to apply to, is it?’

  ‘’Tis. For haven’t I given up everything I was, of me own accord? Sure, I need no rules, as I haven’t any vices left to temper. Today marks a new beginning for me, with the woman I love by me side.’