“Father Leary has declared that anyone found helping Ivy Murphy will suffer the displeasure of the Church,” Jem said through his teeth. It seemed to Jem that Father Leary was on a personal vendetta against Ivy.
“What has Ivy ever done to the man?” Ann Marie gasped.
“I don’t know but the man’s dangerous and Ivy won’t see that.” Jem was scared.
“Can he really stop people giving their discards to Ivy?” Ann Marie wondered aloud. “That would seriously affect her ability to support herself. I have to admit, Jem, I’m lost in admiration at Ivy’s ability to turn one person’s trash into treasure.” Ann Marie laughed. “I’ve also got the idea that the new business Ivy won’t speak about depends a great deal on the items she gets on her ‘round’.” Ann Marie couldn’t bear to see anyone abuse Ivy. It simply wasn’t fair.
“The man made a big mistake.” Jem grinned. It was typical of the priest but it was in Ivy’s favour. “He approached the owners of the houses. It was to them he made his feelings known.” Jem laughed. “They never even see the likes of Ivy Murphy!”
“I suppose not but, Jem, I can’t help feeling concern.” Ann Marie didn’t think she could help Ivy in this situation. She wasn’t a member of the Catholic Church. She had no power with the Parish Priest.
“Father Leary worries me too, Ann Marie.” Jem admitted. “This country fought for its freedom from oppression but it seems to me we are handing over all our freedom to the Catholic Church. These men and women have too much power over us, Ann Marie. To be very honest with you, I fear them. I fear the power we are giving to them.”
“I’m not a Catholic, Jem, so I don’t feel free to voice an opinion,” Ann Marie said carefully. “I don’t like what this Father Leary is doing to Ivy. In fact as an outsider looking in it seems to me that Ivy Murphy and people like her are living a life that should be a matter of pride to the Catholic Church.” Ann Marie shrugged.
“I think so too.” Jem was sick with fear for Ivy. She went along living her life but the Church could squash her like a bug and she refused to see that.
“Here’s Emmy with Vera now.” Jem said as the laughing little girl approached, pulling Vera along by the hand. “I’ll keep a close eye on Ivy, Ann Marie. It’s all I can do.”
“So shall I, Jem,” Ann Marie vowed.
Chapter 27
Ivy enjoyed the sound of her beige leather boots hitting the highly polished hospital floor. The butter-soft leather boots she’d removed from Emmy’s aunt fit Ivy as if crafted for her. The early May sunlight gave her an excuse to wear her new ankle-length white linen skirt and fitted jacket. The style accentuated her tall slim figure. Her flattering mop of inky black curls sported a white fedora she’d trimmed with handmade lace.
Ivy acknowledged the greeting of a passing group of doctors, completely unaware of the masculine appreciation gleaming in each man’s eyes. She bowed her head graciously as she’d seen Ann Marie do, biting her lip to suppress her grin. They’d greeted her as if she was a real person. Ivy wondered what they’d think if they knew the suit she was wearing so proudly had been made from a dead woman’s bed-sheets? The flattering hat sitting tilted on her head had been her da’s pride and joy. The boots on her feet had been made to hide a dead woman’s keys. The foundation garment she wore was still an old vest. Ivy’s body shook with suppressed giggles. Her da would say she was “aping her betters”, stepping above her station, but Ivy didn’t care.
“John Lawless?” Ivy stopped by the bed of the man she’d come to see.
“What’s it to you?” The man in the bed didn’t bother to turn his head in Ivy’s direction. He’d had just about enough of do-gooders and bleeding hearts. He wanted to be left alone. Was that too much to ask?
“We’ve met before.” Ivy took a seat in the chair pulled up by the hospital bed. She wasn’t put off by his attitude. She’d expected it. “My name is Ivy Murphy.” She took a brown-paper bag from the depths of her lace-covered handbag. She put the paper bag on the locker by the side of the bed. “Sadie said you liked grapes.”
“Ivy Murphy!” John Lawless turned his head to stare at the vision of feminine beauty sitting by his bed. The woman didn’t look anything like the ragbag he remembered seeing scurrying around the market places. She was all in white for Christ’s sake – only the rich could afford to dress in something so impractical.
“Jaysus, Ivy, you’ve come up in the world.” He didn’t want to be interested but he couldn’t help himself. It was like something from one of the books he’d read, a body switch or something. “My Sadie thinks you’re an angel.” He had to admit, dressed all in white as she was she could have been an angel. “Have you come to wave your magic wand around and make me walk?”
“I don’t know why I’m here.” Ivy smiled at Sadie’s husband.
“Look, Ivy, no offense but I’ve enough problems without people coming in here to take a look at the freak.” John Lawless was tired of being poked and prodded.
“Sadie is worried sick about you,” Ivy said simply. “I can see why, John. You should be out in this gorgeous sunshine, not lying here brooding.”
“Sadie shouldn’t worry about me.” John turned his head back to staring at the wall. “I hear you’ve given her and my girls jobs. They’re doing all right without me.”
“John, your wife and daughter’s need you.” Ivy wished she was wiser, had more words to convince this man.
“They don’t need me!” John shouted. “I’m a bloody cripple, useless!”
“John, Sadie told me you are highly intelligent – those are her very words –‘highly intelligent’. Was she lying?” Ivy had listened to Sadie singing this man’s praises for months.
“My Sadie thinks because I always have my head buried in a book that means I’m intelligent.” John shrugged. What did he know about intelligent? He’d left school at eleven.
“Sadie says you read aloud to her and the girls every evening.” Ivy smiled. “She says you like knowing how things work.”
“What has that got to do with the price of eggs?” John Lawless waited.
“I’m not really sure,” Ivy admitted. “I only know that your wife and daughters need you desperately.”
“Are you blind?” John pushed himself up in the bed, using his elbows, and glared into Ivy’s eyes.
“John, your legs don’t work!” Ivy snapped. “Big feckin’ deal! The doctors told you they don’t know if that’s permanent or not, haven’t they? The rest of you works, doesn’t it?”
“What are yeh doing here, Ivy?” John refused to be a burden on his family.
“Your wife and daughters need you, need to feel your arms around them. That’s something they’ve all missed, John.” Ivy didn’t know that for a fact but she remembered the warm glow she’d felt whenever Jem Ryan held her tight in his arms. The worries of the world disappeared.
“Lord save me from do-gooders!” John groaned.
“Has Sadie told you much about what’s going on?” Ivy needed to find something that would give John Lawless a reason for living. The man had to get out of this bed and rejoin the land of the living. He should be outside taking advantage of the fresh air and sunshine.
“Sadie and the girls are washing wool for you. Turning used wool into big balls of wool to knit toys or some such. Yeh even moved a lodger into my place, big feckin’ deal!”
“It’s a lot more than that, John,” Ivy said. “Jem Ryan, a friend of mine, has this livery business he’s trying to turn into something important. He’s put in a telephone line, John. We’re all learning to answer the telephone. It has to be done in a businesslike manner. We’re learning to take messages correctly too.”
“What has that to do with me?” John wished the woman would leave him alone.
“You don’t need legs to answer the telephone and take messages, John.” Ivy had given this a lot of thought. She and Jem had discussed the subject. She wasn’t giving the man false hope.
“I thought my eldest, my Clar
e, was going to train to work in the office.” John had heard all about Clare’s plans for night school.
“Clare can’t work twenty-four hours a day. Jem needs someone to cover the phone day and night. Someone he can rely on to take the messages right, note the details and think in a crisis. You don’t need legs for any of that, John.” Ivy knew Sadie had tried to get her husband to listen to her but the man was determined to lie here and die.
“I can’t get around.” He was listening though.
“You won’t get anywhere lying here feeling sorry for yourself!” Ivy snapped. “You need to get out of that bed, John, and figure out how you can get around. It won’t be easy but Jaysus, John, when was anything easy for the likes of us?” She glared at him.
“Give us one of them grapes.” John felt the almost forgotten sensation of a grin on his face. “Sadie said you didn’t mince words.”
“Life is too short, John.” Ivy passed the brown-paper bag over. She accepted one of the big purple grapes and chewed with relish.
“Sadie’s been telling me about all of the crazy things you and your friends are getting up to.”
“John, you have a wife and two wonderful daughters who think the world of you.” Ivy took another grape. “I’m sick listening to them sing your praises morning, noon and night. I’ve a pain in me head listening to what a great man you are, to be honest.”
“I love my girls.” John looked away as he admitted to that soft emotion.
“They love you too. You have a wonderful family, John. You’re a good man. I know you’ve agreed to take in a baby that’s not yours. What you have is rare and wonderful, John. Don’t let this,” Ivy pointed at his legs, “take it away from you.”
“What can I give them, Ivy?” John slapped his legs.
“Get out of that bed and see what you can achieve.” Ivy wanted to shake the man. “Do you know how many candles your family lights for you, John? It’s a bloody wonder the church hasn’t burned down. God must be sick listening to the sound of your name they send up so many prayers for you.”
“There’s a lot going on, John. The world around us is changing. Jem and me, we’re determined to be part of that change.” Ivy stood. “Get out of that bed and become a part of things, John Lawless. We need all the help we can get.”
“Did Sadie ask you to come?”
“Sadie doesn’t know I’m here.” Ivy waved and turned to walk away. “She’d scratch me bald-headed if she knew I’d interfered in her private business.”
John Lawless watched Ivy Murphy walk along the ward towards the door with renewed hope in his heart. If the ragged urchin he knew could turn herself into that fashionable woman, attracting a great deal of male attention, what could he do?
Ivy walked slowly along the hospital corridors lost in thought. She had another reason for dressing up today. She was going to ask someone for a favour. The thought made her sick to her stomach but she didn’t know what else to do.
Ivy walked along the city streets, thinking about asking one of the lads to teach her to ride a bike. The walk from Thomas Street to her destination was a long one. She could have been there in half the time if she had one of the bikes Jem’s lads rode around the city like demons.
Ivy walked through Dublin’s streets, unaware of the admiring glances she attracted from the passing population. Ivy was accustomed to people staring at her. She didn’t see the difference between the looks of disdain she normally received and the looks of interest that were coming her way today.
Ivy hoped her visit with John Lawless had done some good. Sadie was desperately afraid her husband would never leave that hospital ward. The woman needed something to hang on to.
“Ivy Murphy, I almost didn’t recognise you, can I help you?” Brother Roderick had been passing the vestibule when the doorbell rang. He stood now in the open door of the friary and stared. He remembered this woman very well.
“Is Brother Theo in, please?” Ivy didn’t know the correct protocol involved in calling to see a friar. She needed advice and Brother Theo seemed a fountain of knowledge to Ivy.
“Brother Theo is away from home at the moment visiting with his family.” Brother Roderick explained. “Perhaps someone else could be of assistance?”
“I don’t think so, thank you.” Ivy turned away. She’d had a wasted trip. The walk had been a long one in this heat.
“I’d be happy to offer my help,” Brother Roderick said. Theo had talked a great deal about Ivy Murphy. He spoke often of the changes Ivy Murphy appeared to bring to the lives of everyone she met. Theo was fascinated by this phenomenon and visited with Liam Connelly and Ivy Murphy frequently.
“I don’t know if Brother Theo can help to be honest.” Ivy shrugged.
“Won’t you tell me what the matter is?” Brother Roderick knew Theo would want him to help.
Ivy figured it couldn’t hurt to seek advice. “I applied for a street trader’s licence. My application has been refused.”
“Did they give you a reason?” Brother Roderick would have thought Ivy an excellent candidate for a street trader’s license.
“They didn’t bother.” Ivy held out the rejection letter.
“Hmm, it doesn’t say much, does it?” Brother Roderick thought the letter was derogatory. The tone was most insulting.
“I wondered if Brother Theo knew anyone he could ask for an explanation.” Ivy didn’t want to accuse Father Leary of stopping her application but she strongly suspected the old priest.
“If you would allow me to take notes,” Brother Roderick offered, “I can see what I can find out.”
“If you would, Brother,” Ivy allowed him to remove the letter from her hand, “I’d be most grateful.”
“Just a moment.” Brother Roderick closed the friary door in Ivy’s face. He hurried into the vestibule and began searching a nearby desk for pencil and paper. Brother Theo had been in discussion with several brothers and church officials about Ivy’s problems with her Parish Priest. Roderick suspected the involvement of the man. Hurrying to open the door to Ivy again Roderick prayed he was wrong.
“I’ll look into the matter.” Brother Roderick returned the letter to Ivy. “How shall I let you know my findings?”
“I’ll give you a telephone number.” Ivy grinned at the surprised look on Brother Roderick’s face. It seemed giving a telephone number was a step up in the world.
Ivy left her contact details with Brother Roderick and with a smile of thanks walked away. She desperately needed something to drink. The sunlight seemed attracted to her white clothes. She was being slowly baked walking along the city streets. Ivy searched her memory for the nearest water pump. She couldn’t put her head under the tap as the kids did but she’d made a delicate handkerchief to carry with her. She’d wet that and try to cool herself down.
“Allow me.”
Ivy jumped in surprise. She turned to look at the man smiling at her. The man was dressed in summer whites and carrying a tennis racket. Wasn’t it a bit early in the year for tennis? Ivy grinned mentally: now she thought she knew something about tennis! She was losing the run of herself. She’d never seen this man before in her life. What was she supposed to do? She’d never had anyone offer to work the handle of a pump for her.
“Thank you.” Ivy stepped away from the pump and watched with hidden amusement as the gallant wet his handkerchief for her.
“I’ve never seen you around here before.” Burton Moriarty knew he’d remember seeing this vision. He couldn’t believe his luck – first in. She must be new in town. He enjoyed success with the fair sex. He knew all of the noted beauties. “Are you visiting our fair city?” Burton offered his water-soaked handkerchief.
“No,” Ivy took the wet cloth, not sure how to behave. She imagined Ann Marie in the same situation and almost laughed aloud. Ann Marie would never walk miles around the city. “Dublin is my home.” Ivy held the cloth over the fountain and removed the excess liquid.
“You must know the ice-cream parlour o
n O’Connell Street.” Burton gave her the grin that had captured female hearts for years. “Would you allow me to accompany you there?”
“Thank you for the offer.” Ivy almost groaned in relief as she ran the cold damp cloth over her burning skin. “But we haven’t been introduced.” Ivy demurred to the manner born.
“Burton Moriarty at your service.” Burton grinned and with a practised move removed the cloth from Ivy’s fingers. He positioned himself to show off his athletic body and enjoy the feel of feminine admiration as he worked the pump handle again.
“Burton – how unusual!” Ivy had to bite her lips to hide the grin that wanted to spread across her face. The man’s posturing was ridiculous to someone who watched men throw ricks of hay over their heads every Tuesday and Friday at the Hay Market.
“It’s a family name on my mother’s side.” Burton shrugged casually. “Burtons have been a leading force in Dublin society for generations,” he admitted coyly. “Mother wanted to pay homage to her ancestors.” He shrugged, spreading his hands in a ‘what can you do?’ attitude.
“How nice.” Ivy was cool now. In fact, she was practically shivering. This attractive, confident, wealthy man was a relation of hers. The son of one of her mother’s sisters – he had to be. The first relation she’d ever seen. What was he, some kind of cousin?
“How about that ice?” Burton grinned, confident of success.
“Thank you but no.” Ivy smiled coolly and turned to walk away. She wanted to demand the man tell her everything he knew about her mother’s family – but what was the point? They didn’t want to know her. She wouldn’t allow herself to question this smug, self-satisfied man.
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