“Emmy, come look.” Ivy never removed her eyes from the images she was holding in her hand. Ann Marie had captured Emmy beautifully. In some of the photographs Emmy was a modern young girl but in some Ann Marie had somehow aged the image and made it look as if Emmy had lived long, long, ago. They were magical.
“I hope you plan to give me some of these photographs, Ann Marie?” Jem was astonished at the images in front of him. His little Emmy captured for all time. He’d frame these pictures and put them on the wall of the home he planned to create for his family.
Emmy walked slowly over to stand at Jem’s shoulder. She didn’t express any interest in the photographs of herself. Her stomach felt sick, she wanted to cry, she wanted to run away. She held the photograph she’d picked up from the floor so tightly the heavy paper Ann Marie used for her prints crackled.
Jem turned to caution the child to treat the photographs carefully. One look at Emmy’s face froze the words on his lips. He raised his eyebrows, silently asking the child what was wrong.
Emmy passed the picture over reluctantly. The image was of a handsome man with a strong serious face framed by his flying helmet. He was standing with his hand on an airplane. She said one word softly but it echoed around the room like a shout.
“Papa.”
“Emmy?”
The little girl crawled up on Jem’s lap, ignoring the photographs that fell to the carpet-covered floor. Ivy and Ann Marie were frozen in place, unable to understand the situation.
“I don’t want to go back.” Emmy slipped her arms around Jem’s neck in a stranglehold, her green eyes overflowing, a silver trail of tears running down her ashen cheeks. She stared into Jem’s eyes, her lips trembling. “Please don’t send me away. I don’t want to go back.”
Jem put his arms around the little girl and held on tight, his own eyes damp.
Ivy finally unlocked her limbs enough to move. She fell to her knees on the carpet and slowly picked up the photographs. She put those photographs plus the ones she held onto a nearby coffee table. She reached out shaking fingers to pick up the one crushed photograph – then, returning to her seat at Jem’s side, she stared down at the image in her hand.
“Ivy?” Ann Marie stood with one hand pressed against her chest.
“Who is this?” Ivy passed the abused photograph to her friend with shaking hands.
“My goodness,” Ann Marie stared at the image, “that is the gentleman who took me up in his flying machine.” She stared at the tableau before her, knowing more was needed. She’d liked this man very much. He was educated and entertaining, had travelled the world. She’d wanted to know more about him but their time together had been short. “I captured this image of Mr Edward O’Connor standing by his airplane whilst I visited the new airport I was telling you about.”
“Is the man staying in Dublin?” Jem croaked. He’d known this day would come and had thought himself prepared. He tightened his arms around the little girl who had come to mean so much to him. Could he hand her back to the family who had neglected her?
“What is going on here?” Ann Marie stared at the little family group sitting so close together on her sofa – Jem with the child held close to his heart, Ivy leaning in close and rubbing gently at the little girl’s delicate back. They were a picture of dejection.
“Ann Marie, is that man staying in Dublin?” Jem repeated.
“Yes.” It was obvious she wasn’t going to get an answer until she’d explained what she knew. “I received the impression that Mr O’Connor is entering into talks concerning investing in the new airport. I didn’t feel it was my place to ask for details.”
“Did you exchange cards?” Ivy said.
“We did of course,” Ann Marie replied, “but the card I received from Mr O’Connor was one from his business. The card is embossed with the address of his London head office. He explained he travels extensively.” She’d felt quite breathless when Edward O’Connor had stared down at her with intense green eyes while pressing his card into her hand.
Ivy stared at the delicate colour staining Ann Marie’s cheeks. “Do you have reason to believe that Mr O’Connor will contact you again?” What a kettle of fish that would be – Ann Marie walking out with the man who could send her two friends to the gallows.
“I really couldn’t say.”
“I need to know where that man is staying in Dublin,” Jem said softly.
“Nooo,” Emmy wailed. “You’ll get into trouble for helping me! Noooo!” She sobbed so hard her little body was trembling in his arms.
“Emmy, I have to do this. Mr O’Connor needs to know.” He stood up with the child clinging to his neck. Her sobbing tears were soaking his collar. “Ann Marie, now is not the time for this conversation. I know you’ve been wondering about Emmy. I thank you for not questioning me about her presence in my life.” Jem was conscious of the fact that the Lawless family could return at any time. He did not want them involved in this matter. His mind spun with frantic plans. He needed to contact this O’Connor.
Ann Marie could hear the other members of her strange household approaching the room. She didn’t know what was going on. She had the feeling the less people involved the better. It was obvious Jem loved Emmy and the child was happy – for the moment that would have to suffice. “Ivy, take Jem and Emmy up to my suite until the little one calms down. I believe the Lawless family are about to join us for the promised tea and cake.”
“Right.” Ivy jumped to her feet. She tried to pull Jem along but he and Emmy were lost in a whispered conversation. They couldn’t stand here like statues. She pulled Emmy from his arms and turned towards the door.
Ann Marie was standing with her hand on the doorknob.
“Jem,” Ivy hissed, “pull yourself together and follow me.” She went through the door being held open for her without a backward glance.
Ann Marie watched her friends almost run from the room. She intended to get to the bottom of this but now wasn’t the time. They had Easter tea to get through. She sighed deeply. Then there was the street party in The Lane. They couldn’t miss that without causing comment and questions. She smiled at the Lawless family entering the room.
“The others will join us presently. Emmy had a slight mishap.” She said no more, leaving it to each person to imagine what they liked.
Ivy went up the wooden staircase at speed, Emmy clutched close to her chest. She was fighting her own fear for the child’s sake. She heard Jem taking the stairs two at a time to catch up with her. They hurried into Ann Marie’s large bedroom at the front of the house, slamming the door at their back as if they were being followed by the hounds of Hell.
“We all need to calm our nerves.” Ivy, still holding Emmy, collapsed onto the flowered settee placed under the bow window.
“That’s easy for you to say.” Jem pulled Emmy from Ivy’s arms and, with the little girl clasped tight, began to pace across the Persian carpet that covered the wooden floor.
“Jem,” Ivy jumped to her feet and grabbed at Jem’s elbow as he passed her, “you have to calm down – now.” She stared into his green eyes – eyes that were almost crazed. “You pacing up and down like a madman is doing no-one any good.” She shook the arm she held. It had little effect but it made her feel better.
“We have to tell Papa I killed my aunt,” Emmy raised her head from Jem’s chest to whisper.
“In the name of God,” Jem groaned.
“Will the pair of you stop it?” Ivy was frazzled enough for all of them but meeting trouble halfway didn’t make a lick of sense. They needed to catch a hold of themselves. “I feel as if I’m in the theatre watching actors work themselves up into a frenzy. Stop it right now.” She grabbed Emmy from Jem’s arms. The poor child must feel like the package in a pass-the-parcel game.
“I’m taking Emmy into the bathroom to wash her face and comb her hair. While I’m away, Jem Ryan, you catch a hold of your nerves and calm bloody well down.” So saying, she marched into the en-suite bathr
oom.
“Calm down, she says!” Jem looked at the delicate settee – the strength was going from his legs. He hoped the feminine piece of furniture would hold his weight. He dropped down, put his elbows on his spread knees and buried his shaking hands in his hair. “I’m on me way to the gallows and the bloody woman is telling me to calm down. How am I supposed to do that, I’d like to know?”
His mind whirled. He had to let that man O’Connor know he had his daughter. The man must be going out of his mind wondering where his little girl was – he had to be told she was safe and well. Then there was all that cash and jewels the aunt had had about her person. The sparkles were in a bank box but he’d been using the cash to improve his business and provide a better standard of living for little Emmy. He needed to check his books to see how much he owed the man. He’d been paying the money back. He was no thief but the sums involved made his head spin.
While Jem was wrestling with his conscience, Ivy was trying to calm down a distraught little girl.
“You need to stop this crying, Emmy.” Ivy washed away the fresh burst of tears with a warm flannel. The tears kept coming. “You’re going to make yourself sick, petal.”
“Uncle Jem will be in so much trouble for helping me,” the little girl sobbed, as if her heart would break.
“Listen to me.” Ivy gave up attempting to wipe the tears away. She sat down on the closed wooden seat of the toilet and pulled the shaking girl into her arms. Emmy leaned against her as if all the strength had left her body. “I don’t know your papa,” the word ‘papa’ felt weird on her lips but that was what the child had called the man, “but I do know that if I lost you I’d go out of my mind.” She tipped up the little chin and stared into the child’s eyes. “Are you listening to me?” She got a little nod for her trouble. “We have to let your papa know that you are safe and well. You know that, Emmy.”
“I’m afraid,” Emmy whispered.
“There’s no need to be afraid.” Ivy was scared enough for both of them. “You are just a little girl, Miss Emerald O’Connor of Galway.”
“I like being Emmy Ryan.”
“Be that as it may, you are both Emerald and Emmy, but your uncle and me want you to enjoy being a child. We’ll do the worrying and fretting if we have to.”
“I don’t want anyone to hurt my Uncle Jem.”
“I know, petal, but we can do nothing right now.” Ivy sighed and pulled the little girl close. “We have to go back down those stairs with a smile and have tea and cake. Leave the worrying to me and your Uncle Jem – can you do that?”
“I’ll try.”
“Good girl. Now let’s get you cleaned up. It’s a holiday and we are going to enjoy ourselves.” She pressed a kiss into Emmy’s damp forehead. “I can’t wait to see what kind of fancy cake Ann Marie’s cook has made for us. Me mouth is watering at the very thought.” She knew cake wasn’t the answer but she had nothing else to offer right now. The little girl needed something to take her mind off this shocking new development.
She opened the bathroom door and gently nudged Emmy before her.
“Jem, we’re going to have to bring the date of our wedding forward,” she said with her chin in the air as soon as she emerged from the bathroom.
“In the name of God, Ivy Murphy,” Jem jumped to his feet, “what are you talking about now?”
“I can’t be made to speak out against yeh if we’re married.” Ivy took Emmy’s hand in hers and made for the bedroom door. “I read that somewhere.”
Chapter 31
“I was half joking, whole in earnest, about bringing forward the date of our wedding, Jem.”
It was the evening of Easter Sunday. The sound of the die-hard partygoers still echoing around the courtyard. Jem held a sleeping Emmy against his chest as they hurried around the tenement block to Ivy’s back door. With the goods all over the place they couldn’t enter her front room without some kind of light.
“They’ll be expecting us to go back out to the party,” Jem whispered while Ivy fumbled to get the key in the lock.
“Pity about them.” Ivy got the door unlocked and hurried over to light the gas lamps. It was black as pitch. “Put Emmy in my bed,” she said when the soft gas light illuminated the room. “I’ll make some tea.” She threw her coat and hat on the foot of the bed.
“Have you anything stronger to put in it?” Jem’s coat and hat joined hers.
“Jem Ryan, don’t you be taking to strong drink now,” she said over her shoulder while raking the fire out. She’d banked it before going outside to attend the street party.
Jem removed Emmy’s outside clothes without disturbing the sleeping child. She’d been a little wonder to him today. She’d preformed her party piece standing on one of the tables pulled out into the courtyard. The child had been better at hiding her worries than the adults.
“The only thing I have to hand is some of me da’s poitín.” She turned into his arms when he walked over to join her in front of the range. “That will do neither of us any good.” They stood for a moment in silence. “Jesus, Jem, what are we going to do?”
“What can we do, love?” He took comfort from holding Ivy tight to his body. He felt as if his bones were going to rattle apart he was that scared.
“You did what you thought was best for her.” She turned her head to look at the little dark head peeking over the bedclothes. “Surely to God any father should fall to his knees and thank you for keeping his child safe?”
“We both know the rich are different, love.” He pressed a kiss into her hair. “Where the heck has he been all this time? What kind of man is he that doesn’t come looking for his child? I’m that afraid of what he’ll do that me bones are rattling. At the same time I want to punch him in the face for not protecting his child.” He loved the little girl he’d taken into his heart and home. It was going to break his heart to give her up. “It’s what happened to the aunt that’s going to be the biggest problem.” He released her from his hold, knowing his Ivy thought better with a cup of tea in her hand.
“Ann Marie says yer man is staying in Dublin.” Ivy began to make the tea while Jem dropped into one of her easy chairs.
“Do you think we should tell her what happened?” He let his head fall onto the back of the chair. “Would she understand?”
“We need advice.” Ivy passed Jem a mug of tea and, with her own cup and saucer in hand, sat into the chair across the range from him. “We need to understand how much trouble we are in.”
“I don’t want you to have anything to do with this.” He put the mug on the floor beside him. “I was the one who took the law into my own hands.”
“Jem Ryan, talk like that will get yeh lynched.” Ivy bent forward and slapped his knee. “We’ll have to tell Ann Marie everything. We need her help. She’ll have the name of some expert who can advise us I’ve no doubt.”
They fell silent for a while, brooding as they drank their tea. Then Ivy stood to refill her cup. She leaned and pressed a kiss into his hair. He reached up, took the cup and saucer from her hands and placed them on the floor. He put his hands around her slim waist and pulled her onto his knees.
“I’m sorry for getting you involved in this.”
“Don’t talk so daft.” Ivy sank into his body. “Where would we be now if you hadn’t asked for my help that night?” She put her arms around him, her head on his shoulder.
“It’s a bloody mess.”
“You need to get them books out of the bank.” She was referring to the diaries kept by Emmy’s aunt. They had found them in the woman’s luggage. The books were lodged, along with a fortune in precious metals, in a safe-deposit box at the bank. “You should let Ann Marie read them. The woman’s own words will speak in your defence.”
“You never stop thinking, love.” Jem fought the temptation to bury his problems in her arms. “I’ve been spending all of that cash money the woman had too, don’t forget.”
“You can show the man your account books.” I
vy pushed back to look into his worried green eyes. “Explain to him that you’ve been treating that money as a loan, that you were building up your business in order to provide Emmy with a secure future.” Jem had been making regular payments into an account to pay back the loan.
“What will happen to the business if I have to go to gaol?”
“Would you whist!” She pressed a kiss into his lips. “We are going to get out of this mess – somehow – or my name isn’t Ivy Rose Murphy.”
They held each other tight – each with thoughts and worries scurrying through their heads.
Chapter 32
Ivy stared at the flickering flames of the candles she’d lit. The church was cool and silent around her. She remained standing before the altar of St. Francis.
‘You’d say it was vanity, wouldn’t you, Da?’ she thought. ‘I don’t want to kneel down and ladder me silk stockings.’ She was wearing her Easter outfit. She felt the burning behind her eyes. She was so scared. What was going to happen to Jem? He had done nothing wrong. He’d protected an innocent child. Surely he wouldn’t be punished for that?
‘I tried telephoning Brother Theo this morning. That’s why I’m lighting candles to St. Francis. I haven’t seen the man in ages. I hope he’s alright.’ She wished she knew what to say. Her thoughts were so muddled she didn’t know how to be going on. She needed advice but couldn’t voice her worries aloud. She’d brought them here to soak up the peace of the church. Even here she couldn’t voice her worries aloud.
The Ha'Penny Place (Ivy Rose Series Book 3) Page 15