“I heard the sad boy say you are sucking him dry of all knowledge.” Emmy shared this bit of news with great solemnity, her big green eyes shining with respect and awe.
“Come on, you little baggage!” Ivy pulled Emmy with her as they ran towards the livery. The little girl was precocious to say the least. She refused to call Liam by name, always referring to him as “the sad boy”. She picked up information at a frightening speed and seemed capable of repeating everything she heard or saw.
“Harlot!” a voice rang out across the cobbles. “Father Leary has you in his sights. You are doomed to eternal damnation, Ivy Murphy. Father Leary knows what you are. He’s right about you. I’ve seen you myself consorting with young boys, leading them into sin. You’re a harlot, Ivy Murphy!”
“Sheila Purcell, have you nothing better to do with your time?” Ivy looked at the woman charging towards them. Sheila was carrying a large cross and waving a bottle of clear liquid around the place. Ivy presumed it was a bottle of holy water the woman was shaking frantically in her direction.
“I know all about you.” Sheila Purcell was aware of the eyes and ears that watched her. She was determined to expose this sinner, this harlot, for what she really was. Ivy Murphy should be ashamed to show her face amongst God-fearing people.
“Everyone knows you murdered your own father!” Sheila Purcell screamed her accusation. “Everyone knows you did it, Ivy Murphy, but no-one will say it to your face. Éamonn Murphy, that poor sainted man, killed dead before his time! Everyone knows he was killed by his own daughter. You had to be shamed into having a Requiem Mass said for the repose of his soul. Shame on you, I say, shame on you, Ivy Murphy! You should hang your head!”
“Go peddle your holy water somewhere else, Sheila,” Ivy sighed tiredly
“That woman speaks the truth! You are a sinner, Ivy Rose Murphy!” A male voice echoed down the tunnel. The echo lent an impressive depth to the statement.
“Another country heard from.” Yes, the longer evenings brought out the headbangers, Ivy thought.
“Run and ask Liam to give you a hand putting those puppies back in their stall, Emmy.” Ivy wanted the child out of the way of the train wreck she could see coming. “I’ll be along in a minute.”
“I want to stay with you.” Emmy tried to hang on to Ivy’s hand. She didn’t like these people. Why was that woman screaming at Ivy?
“Run along, Emmy.” Ivy pushed the child gently. “I’ll be all right.” She wasn’t actually sure of that but she wouldn’t allow anyone to terrify Emmy. “Look, there’s Liam now – he’ll help you with the puppies. Go on, now!”
Emmy reluctantly went.
“There you are, Ivy Rose Murphy,” Father Leary said as he exited the tunnel. The priest always gave Ivy her full title. He’d told her she was named for a plant that strangled and a flower that slashed and tore at everything around it. The priest’s words had bothered Ivy as a child. “I was coming to see you.”
“Were you indeed?” Ivy wasn’t impressed. She was, however, cautious. Father Leary carried a walking stick. It wouldn’t do to let him near enough to her to use the thing as a weapon. Father Leary was overly fond of lashing out at people who annoyed him.
“It has been reported to me that you are consorting with Liam Connelly.” Father Leary was enjoying himself. The man loved an audience. “You are leading that young man astray. It will not be allowed. The lad belongs to God.”
“Father Leary,” Sheila Purcell was almost faint at the honour of being in the presence of the parish priest, “are you going to beat the devil out of her?” She offered her bottle of holy water. “I’ve holy water from Lourdes if you need it to cast the devil out.”
Ivy was aware of people trying desperately to disappear into their own homes. Everyone might pay homage to Father Leary but they preferred not to have to face the man.
“I have matters to discuss with you, Ivy Rose Murphy. Serious matters. You have been seen consorting with a young man destined for the priesthood. Giving him succour.” Father Leary loved how that word sounded. It sounded sinful, immoral. He spat the word out, convinced he was the only one there who would know the actual meaning of the word. “By your actions you have encouraged and permitted the boy to go against the will of his parents and the Holy Church. You meddle in things you can’t understand, Ivy Rose Murphy.”
Father Leary was red in the face and had to stop to catch his breath. Ivy waited for him to continue his diatribe.
“You didn’t come to me when your sainted father went missing. Éamonn Murphy was a God-fearing man. He would have wanted my prayers in his hour of need. You denied that good man his final sacrament, Ivy Rose Murphy.” Father Leary wished he was still in the tunnel. He’d enjoyed the gravitas the echo had lent to his words.
“My father was never missing, he died.” Ivy deliberately used her ‘posh’ voice. She knew it annoyed the priest. The man was constantly annoyed at her for some reason or another. Ivy preferred to be hung for a sheep as a lamb. “My father died suddenly in an accident. I told you that when I came to see you almost four months ago.” Ivy was aware the people of The Lane were hiding behind their windows, listening to everything being said.
“You haven’t darkened my doorstep since that day.” Father Leary raised his walking stick. Ivy stepped back smartly out of range. “I want to talk to you, Ivy Rose Murphy – come along!”
“Where?” Ivy wasn’t willing to go anywhere with this man.
“I’ll talk to you in your father’s house.”
“No, you won’t.” Ivy was sick with fear but she would not allow this bully into her home.
“What did you say?” Father Leary could not believe his ears. The hussy had refused him.
“My father is dead as you know perfectly well.” Ivy kept well out of the way of the waving stick. She positioned herself so she could keep an eye on Sheila Purcell. Ivy wouldn’t put it past the woman to hit her over the head with the large cross she held. Sheila would delight in dragging Ivy, like a human sacrifice, over to the furious priest.
“My father is dead,” Ivy repeated. “He has no home here. Everyone knows he never paid the rent on the home he did have. I’m the official tenant.”
“You slander the good name of your dead father. You show me no respect. I can have you evicted!” Father Leary shouted. “Have you no shame, Ivy Rose Murphy?”
“You need to calm down.” Ivy refused to give the man the title he used so shamelessly. “You’re getting overexcited.”
Ivy was genuinely concerned. The priest was red in the face, perspiration pouring off him. That couldn’t be healthy, not in this cool weather.
“Sheila Purcell, you’re so concerned for the good of the Church,” Ivy didn’t dare take her eyes off the priest, “you should take this man into your place and make him a cup of tea.”
“How dare you!” Father Leary didn’t feel well. It was all the fault of the disgraceful female standing before him, defying him. Him, the Parish Priest. Well, he’d soon take care of her. He’d make her miserable life a hell on earth. He had that power and he’d use it.
“Oh, I couldn’t – I’m not worthy,” Sheila Purcell said. She might be a God-fearing woman but she couldn’t entertain the parish priest in her own home. It wouldn’t be right.
“I have things to do.” Ivy didn’t turn her back on the pair as she moved away in the direction of the livery. “I’ll be getting about them.”
“Ivy Rose Murphy, you stop right there!” Father Leary waved his stick in the air, unable to believe the impudence of this woman. “I’ve said I came to speak to you. We will go to your father’s home. You can serve me tea while we discuss the error of your ways.”
“Thanks all the same.” Ivy was almost at the door of the livery. She hoped Liam was standing inside, ready to let her in. “But I have things to do. Maybe you should dwell on your own sins a while. Correct me if I’m wrong but isn’t gluttony one of the Seven Deadly Sins?”
For this man, thi
s priest, to come among starving children and flaunt his obvious opulence outraged Ivy. The priest, on his very rare visits, never left The Lane without demanding money from the people there. He took what little they had and left them to struggle on.
“How dare you!”Father Leary was so incensed he actually threw his silverheaded walking stick with a great deal of force at Ivy’s head.
She ducked and the thing glanced off the door by her head. She jumped out of its way when it bounced back off the livery door.
“What in the name of Heaven is going on here?”
Ivy turned her head to look in the direction of the voice. Just what she needed! A Franciscan friar, if she wasn’t mistaken. The man was wearing a long brown hooded robe. His feet were naked inside strapped sandals. The friar was standing in the mouth of the tunnel staring at the scene before him. A gaping Officer Barney Collins stood at his side.
“I repeat,” the friar said in a voice with the power of his beliefs behind it, “what is going on here?”
“It is no concern of yours.” Without looking away from the Franciscan, Father Leary accepted the walking stick Sheila Purcell picked up and held out to him. “I came to offer this woman, this Ivy Rose Murphy, the ungrateful heathen, my counsel.” Father Leary wanted to use his stick to wallop the ungrateful trollop but he stayed his hand.
“Indeed.” Brother Theo, a Franciscan theologian, wondered if the priest often descended into violence with his parishioners. He would not call the man to account in front of a crowd of interested strangers but he was not prepared to let the matter drop either.
“This woman came to me to report her father’s death.” Father Leary could feel a trickle of cold sweat down the back of his shirt. “I have reason to believe she may have done damage to the sainted man. A man strong in his beliefs and faithful to the Church. I simply wanted to confirm the matter. I see you brought a policeman with you. He can get to the bottom of this matter. Perhaps you too have heard of something unsavoury happening to one of my flock?”
“The policeman is here as my guide. I’m afraid I got lost on several occasions trying to find this place.”
Barney Collins didn’t know what to do. If he’d seen any other man try to inflict bodily harm on a woman he’d have arrested the bugger. He couldn’t arrest a priest. But he could tell the truth.
“Ah, I can confirm the demise of Mr Éamonn Murphy,” he said. “The man drowned. I myself was a witness to the event. I was the officer who informed his family of his sad passing.” Barney Collins didn’t know what had happened to Éamonn Murphy’s body but he’d heard of the drunken wake in the man’s name so he said no more.
“If you gentlemen will excuse me I have things I need to do.” Ivy wanted to get away from this lot.
“If you could hold on just a moment, young lady.” Brother Theo indicated that Ivy should stay where she was. “Officer, let me thank you for leading me here. I am very grateful.” Brother Theo grinned and offered his hand to the visibly uncomfortable police officer. “I wasn’t looking forward to returning to the friary to report my failure to find my way, yet again.”
“You are very welcome, Brother Theo. I’ll be on my beat around the neighbourhood if you should need me.” Barney hoped to God he wouldn’t be needed in here again this evening.
“Thank you again.” Brother Theo watched the policeman hurry from the place. He didn’t blame him.
Theo sighed and turned to deal with the overweight bombastic priest. He’d have something to say to the man at a later date. Right now he just wanted him to leave this place.
“I don’t know your name or parish, Father.” Theo waited for the priest to introduce himself. He was genuinely horrified when the man told him he was the Parish Priest. How had such a man come to lead a parish?
“I have to be on my way.” Father Leary knew he was in trouble and laid the blame at Ivy Rose Murphy’s door. The woman was evil. He’d always known it. Today everyone had seen her evil.
Theo waited until the parish priest had disappeared into the tunnel, then turned to Ivy. “Miss Murphy, it’s yourself I’ve come to see.”
“Father, in the name of God, protect yourself!” Sheila Purcell almost fell to her knees. It was a well-known fact that monks were the holiest of the holy. “You heard Father Leary. The woman is a known sinner, spawn of the devil. You are in danger of losing your immortal soul!” Sheila Purcell was shaking at her own daring.
“Sheila, for the love of Jaysus, will you go home!” Ivy shook her head. Sheila was more to be pitied than laughed at. “Go say a decade of the Rosary or take a bath in holy water or something.”
“Are you all right, Ivy?” Liam Connelly finally found the courage to open the small door and look out. He knew Father Leary was gone – he’d heard him take his leave. Liam nearly passed out when he saw who was standing outside with Ivy.
“I’m fine, thanks, Liam.” Ivy rolled her eyes. “Did you get the pups back in the stall?”
“They’re all accounted for.” Liam almost stuttered in fright. What was a Franciscan friar doing here?
“Could you keep an eye on Emmy until Jem comes home?” Ivy knew Liam had little to do with looking after Emmy. It was more the other way around. Emmy had an old head on her shoulders.
“Yes, I’ll do that.” Liam disappeared without another word.
“Is that the lad you want to talk about?” Brother Theo whispered.
“That’s him,” Ivy replied. “Follow me.” Then she stopped and turned. “I’m sorry. I don’t know how to address you. Do I call you Father or Brother?”
“I’m Brother Theo.” Theo held out his hand to the young woman who was examining him quite closely.
“Would you care for a cup of tea, Brother Theo?”
“That would be much appreciated, Miss Murphy.”
“Call me Ivy.”
Ivy reached into her skirt pocket for the key to her door. She led the friar towards her basement entry, aware of every eye in the place on her.
“This is my work area,” Ivy said of the area she’d set out to serve as her base of operations. She led the way into her new parlour. “Sit down, please.” Ivy pointed to one of the chairs tucked under her table. “I’ll have the tea going in no time.”
“You are the young woman who left a message at the friary?” Theo looked around. The room was sparsely furnished with no sign of wealth, but it was clean and comfortable with charming touches of whimsy around the place.
“I am.” Ivy glanced over her shoulder while she filled the teapot. “I’m worried about Liam Connelly, the young man you just saw cowering behind the stable doorway.” Ivy delighted in laying out her tea set.
She’d covered her worn table with a tablecloth made of oddments she’d fashioned herself. To her eyes it looked beautiful. Ivy had made scones she’d intended to share with Liam and Emmy. She displayed these on a large plate and put them on the table.
“Tell me about him.” Father Theo was studying the woman who’d been at the centre of that storm he’d interrupted. What was it about her that caused a man of God to behave like an unmannered hooligan?
“Liam Connelly is sixteen years old.” Ivy joined the man at the table. “He went away at age eleven to a seminary.” Ivy filled in the little she knew of Liam’s history.
“He is no relation of yours?” Theo took a scone and bit into it. He didn’t make the mistake of looking around for butter or jam.
“No, he’s not.” Ivy shrugged. “To be honest, Brother, I never had a great deal of time to spend studying the young people of The Lane. I have three younger brothers. I raised them myself. That kept me running around tending to my own business. I knew Liam only as an obnoxious young lad that hung around the place.”
“Ivy, you went out of your way to call in at the friary.” Theo said. “What do you think we can do that his own advisor can’t?”
“You just met his advisor.” Ivy refused to say more than that.
“Ahh, that could be a problem.” Theo wa
nted to bang his head off the table. This situation was farcical but according to this young woman it could easily become a tragedy.
“You think?” Ivy snapped. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be so rude but Father Leary and I have a long history of trouble.”
“Tell me why you chose the friary.” Theo sipped his tea and waited. “The friar you spoke to, Brother Roderick, is very concerned by the situation.” Theo would make a point of thanking Roderick for bringing this matter to his attention. He had come only to keep his promise to Roderick. Obviously the situation was as dire as his fellow-friar had made it out to be.
“Liam is floundering.” Ivy sipped her tea and tried to gather her arguments. Liam needed help and she’d a feeling only a man of God would be acceptable to him.
“In what way?” Theo waited.
“I’ve said he went away to be a priest. He came home in a fashion almost guaranteed to show him up as a fool.” Ivy shook her head and, with laughter glittering in her big blue eyes, explained what Liam had done since he left the seminary.
“The young can be delightful surprises.” Theo smiled.
“I agree.” Ivy stood to serve fresh tea. “Liam was full of his plans when he first arrived home. Since then he’s been subjected to vicious abuse from his father and his priest. I’ve watched him almost fall apart. He isn’t eating. He isn’t sleeping. He’s stopped planning for the future.” Ivy stopped when her voice began to break.
Through Streets Broad and Narrow (Ivy Rose Series Book 1) Page 25