The Butterfly State

by Carol Coffey

  Maura took a step back and stared at Éamonn. She put her hand to her mouth, which was moving without speaking, as she tried to make sense of what he was saying. She reached forward and touched his face with her free hand while Seán squirmed and struggled to be set free and allowed to run on the bridge. Her eyes implored him.

  “Éamonn! We could –”

  “No!” he shouted as he pushed her away, her body knocking off the bridge railings. People were beginning to look at them but neither noticed. “No, Maura, go back, go back to your husband. I have nothing for you!”

  He put her case down and took one final look at her, then turned and disappeared into the bustling crowd. She chased after him, shouting his name, pleading, but she could not find him. She climbed onto the railings to get a view of the crowd, awkwardly holding Seán in her arms, but he was nowhere to be seen. He was gone.

  She took one last look into the throng, then lifted her case and turned, losing herself in the Saturday shopping crowd. She walked along the quays, carrying Seán. Happy shoppers pushed by her as she made her way toward the bus station in a daze, sweat running down her face and back. Seán screamed with hunger but she did not notice. She crossed the Liffey and gazed down the river to the spot where they had stood only moments before, hoping to see him standing there, looking for her. At Aston Quay she stood and stared into the filthy Liffey water and felt its slow melodious current calling her in, offering to cool her and bring peace to her troubled mind. She had nowhere to go. Michael would surely kill her. Her parents would not protect her. Maura stepped closer to the Liffey wall which was not high on this quay and could be easily climbed. She could no longer hear the traffic, the people, the noise of Dublin around her. Silence enveloped her and she felt a peace she had not felt since before she met Éamonn McCracken. Closer now, her worn black shoes touching the wall. She longed to sleep now, sleep forever where Michael’s hands could not find her or Seán, where the baby she carried would float inside her forever, never knowing the pain life brought. Maura raised her left foot onto the wall and stopped, the dream of peace being almost better than the peace that was to come. Tears streamed down her face which was ghostly white beneath her black hair. She imagined herself, rows of colourful flowers floating beside her, her body limp and peaceful. Seán, tranquil, sleeping beside her. Maura lifted her right foot. She thought she heard a voice praying in the distance. She touched her mouth to find the voice was her own. She had not prayed in a long time.

  “Hail, Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee . . . blessed are thou amongst women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb . . .”

  Maura moved her gaze to Seán who had started to cry again. Everything seemed to move more slowly, like it does in a dream. Seán’s screams were inaudible at first and she could only see the child’s face contorting, his body rocking to and fro in her arms. Slowly his screams pushed their way in front of the peaceful place that beckoned her, becoming louder now, pleading, imploring her. Maura shifted her gaze from her raised foot to the child’s face and back to her feet again before collapsing onto the quayside, the screaming child still held tightly in her arms.

  When Maura came to, she found two nurses standing over her, one calling for a doctor. Her confused eyes looked around the hospital ward.

  “What happened? Where’s my baby?”

  “Don’t worry, love. Your baby’s fine. He’s down in the nursery being fed. You fainted on the street and bumped your head – a taxi driver brought you in.”

  “How long have I been here”?

  “About four hours. What’s your name?”

  “Maura Byrne.”

  “Where are you from?”

  “Wicklow, Árd Glen.”

  “You had no identification on you so we couldn’t call your husband. We’ll do that for you now.”

  “No! I mean, it’s fine. It’s too far and we don’t have a phone in the house. If I can just go home, I’ll be fine.”

  “Home! Oh no, love, you’ll surely be with us overnight and anyway the doctor wants to speak to your husband. We’ll send the local police to tell him you’re here.”

  “No, please, please, just let me go. You don’t understand!”

  The nurse smiled sympathetically at Maura, nodding all the while but not listening to the poor woman’s protests, thinking to herself that the concussion must be worse than the doctor thought. Maura tried to stand but the room spun around her. She could feel something sticky on her forehead and in touching it found she had a large dressing above her right eye.

  “The fall – it was a nasty gash but it’ll heal fine, don’t worry,” the nurse said kindly.

  Maura was caught. As she lay back onto the stiff white pillowcase she wished she had done it, had jumped and finished it.

  At seven thirty that evening Michael Byrne appeared in the hospital ward, red-faced with anger. He could not get the truck started and had to ask a neighbour to drive him the whole journey. Dr Smith walked Michael over to Maura’s bedside, mistaking Maura’s frightened look for confusion.

  “Well, Mrs Byrne, your husband has finally arrived. You can go home if you wish but you must take it easy. I’ve explained to your husband that a lot of rest is vital if you are to hold on to the pregnancy. Good luck now and take care.”

  Maura turned away from Michael, her face red with shame – and fear. She did not need to see her husband’s face to know that when they returned to Árd Glen she was in for the beating of her life.

  Maura raised her bruised body slowly from her bed. Seán was screaming and she had better get to him before Michael did. As she put on her worn housecoat she caught sight of herself in the mirror that Michael had broken in one of his rages and sobbed quietly as she placed her fingers over her split lip. Both eyes blackened, she looked nothing like the girl she had been less than two years ago. Maura lifted Seán from his cot and pain gripped her as she held him against her ribs which were badly bruised from Michael’s punches, each breath bringing a fresh gasp of pain. She carried the screaming toddler into the kitchen and spoon-fed him cold porridge as she stared listlessly into thin air. She could not grasp Éamonn’s rejection of her. He loved her, didn’t he? He loved their son. So why would he abandon her now? He had promised her they would be a family, together in Dublin. Her mind refused to search further, to see Éamonn differently. She could not bear to reach any conclusions, could not bear to think that she had been a fool and that he had used her. She wasn’t ready to face the cold hard facts of her situation. She knew she could do nothing now that Michael knew about the baby. Secretly she had hoped the beating she received last night would cause her to miscarry. After he had beaten her, he stood over her and said “This will be our little secret so don’t go telling a soul. Your trips to Dublin are over. You don’t leave this house and you don’t have anyone in the house unless I say so and you don’t have anyone in at all until your face looks better.”

  At first Maura used to wonder why he would keep her secret, why he would not leave, abandon her. But she knew there was always the farm: land, land, land. That’s why he would stay. And by now she had realised that there was another reason. In the time since they had been married he had never touched her and always slept in the other bedroom. Maura felt that Michael had a secret of his own, a secret that meant he would never try to touch her, or any woman. It suited him to remain quiet about her behaviour. He had nothing to gain and everything to lose if he made her conduct public.

  They were trapped together with their secrets and shame and Maura felt, for once, that maybe that was all she deserved.

  Chapter 10

  1981

  Kate had risen early and busied herself about the house while she waited for Tess to wake up. Seán had risen even earlier and had left the house without breakfast, which was unusual these days. This was a relief as her brother had truly replaced their father in the house, communication now taking the form of grunting and slamming doors. She found herself frightened of him now where they had once be
en close, his temper flaring often at Ben who could not help the way he was.

  She was nervous and wanted to get her first day with her sister over with as soon as possible. She thought about how shocked she had been to see that Tess had turned into a woman in the ten short years that she was away. She wondered what she had expected her to look like – surely not still a child? But somehow that is exactly what she was expecting, as if her sister’s life was somehow frozen just as Kate’s had been on the day Michael Byrne died. She had been trapped here on the farm since Tess’s departure and she sometimes wondered which of them had been incarcerated, for her life seemed like a sentence of never-ending work and worry.

  She thought again of the day she had received the letter from Dr Cosgrove saying that, due to Tess’s age, he was no longer able to keep her at the hospital and because he’d had no contact from the family regarding her wellbeing, he would assume that they were not able to offer her a home. He would shortly be contacting the local GP to organise alternative accommodation for her in her home town.

  Kate had been horrified. The idea was unthinkable. To have her sister live somewhere in town would be embarrassing and would start tongues wagging but, more importantly, this was Tess’s home. She had a right to be here. Besides, Kate had always wanted Tess home but Seán had stood in her way. But now she no longer cared what her brother thought. She would not allow him to dictate to her any longer. She had written immediately to Dr Cosgrove and said that Tess could come home.

  Kate, lost in thought, did not hear Tess creep into the room.

  “Kate, why did you not come to see me?”

  The startled Kate reddened, embarrassed and ashamed. She did not want to tell her sister that she had taken the bus twice to see her but had not been able to go through with it, that she simply did not have the strength to cope with Tess pleading with her to take her home. Kate stood upright and tensed her jaw as though under attack. She looked at her sister who was staring at her, her vacant eyes seeming to look through her.

  “I was busy, Tess. There’s a lot of work to do here, remember?”

  Kate watched as Tess digested this and knew her sister was not satisfied with the response.

  “You could have come during the summer when there are no lambs or at Christmas before they come,” Tess said innocently although Kate thought she could see something in her sister’s usually calm face, an expression she couldn’t name.

  Kate tensed up even more, her shoulders rising up, her jaw firm, her lower teeth showing slightly.

  “I – I found it hard, Tess. I don’t expect you to understand, you’re too young. It was hard – it –”

  “I’m twenty-one,” Tess said angrily, frightening Kate slightly and making her move away.

  “Yes, Tess, I know you are a woman now. But . . . what are you saying, Tess?”

  Tess looked steadily at her sister and did not answer, making Kate more nervous than before.

  “Why did you not marry Noel?”

  Kate drew a sharp breath. She was not used to being asked such direct questions – at least, not since Tess went into care.

  “Didn’t they teach you any manners at that place, Tess? You ought to know better now.”

  Tess, not satisfied with this answer, persisted. “Why did you not marry him?”

  Kate turned to face out the window that overlooked the farm’s yard, placing dishes in the sink as she thought of what answer she could give her sister.

  “He didn’t want to. After Daddy died, he never called here again,” she replied simply.

  Tess stood still, watching her sister’s mind stumbling over memories that were, to this day, painful.

  “Where is Noel?”

  God, the child never gave up. Kate had not expected Tess to have remained so simplistic.

  “He’s still in Árd Glen, Tess. He married Marion Hynes but she left him a few years ago. Took their two boys to live in England.”

  Kate was disappointed that she did not feel any fleeting pleasure from Noel Moore’s problems. She hated herself for feeling sorry for him. She heard that he had buried himself in his work on the farm, rarely coming to town unless for supplies. She saw him once in a while at Mass with his mother and was always careful to leave before him. After all these years she did not want to see a repeat of the look he had given her the day of her father’s funeral. Kate saw pity in Noel’s face and she didn’t want pity from anyone. Noel had been spineless in the end, sacrificing their happiness for his family’s reputation and they had both ended up alone. Kate turned to look at Tess, trying to figure out what she was thinking but her sister stared back with a blank expression, her head nodding.

  “Were you sad, Kate?”

  “Yes,” Kate replied simply, unwelcome tears springing in her eyes.

  Tess stood in the kitchen nodding thoughtfully, digesting her sister’s answers before returning to her room to draw.

  Sam Moran stood a few yards away from the Byrne house and watched Dermot Lynch drive the battered truck out of the driveway towards town. He had seen Seán Byrne drinking in Slattery’s earlier and knew he would not be home until after dark. As Sam approached the farmhouse he could hear a humming noise coming from inside the house and glanced quickly through the kitchen window. He could see a boy sitting on the kitchen floor, rocking and laughing as he repeatedly waved his fingers in front of his eyes.

  Sam knocked loudly until a nervous Kate Byrne answered.

  “Yes?”

  He threw Kate Byrne his handsome smile which usually got him inside places but he could tell at a glance that his charms would not get him anywhere with this woman.

  “Hello, Miss, I’m Sam Moran from the Weekly News. I heard your sister had come home and –”

  Before he got a chance to finish his sentence, the door slammed firmly in his face. This job was going to be harder than he’d thought.

  Sam stood alone at the counter of Slattery’s pub. It was still quiet, with a few hard drinkers sitting in the snug out of view. He beckoned to Dermot who had just started his usual Saturday night shift at the pub.

  “Dermot, you work for the Byrnes, yeah?”

  “Yes.”

  Sam sighed. Another great orator, he thought sarcastically. “What’s it like there – I mean, the family?”

  “It’s fine.”

  Groan. “The girl, the one that’s come home, how’s that going?” Sam was smiling as enthusiastically as he could at the sour-faced bartender.

  “It’s fine.” Dermot stood and stared at Moran. He did not want to be rude to his aunt’s customers but there was no way he was getting involved in local gossip.

  “Is she, is she – you know, mad?”

  “No, she is not mad and even if she were it would be none of your business, or mine for that matter – now do ya want a drink or not?”

  “Same again then,” Sam sighed.

  He was used to people blanking him and he would have to find another way of getting his story.

  Kate was tired. Having Tess back was exhausting as she followed her around the house all day, asking questions, trying to fill in the gaps of the past ten years. Kate had found Tess standing over Seán twice that week, staring at him as he slept in a drunken stupor and for some reason it had made her blood turn cold. The questions would start as soon as Tess rose. When did Seán start drinking? Why did Seán start drinking? All perfectly normal questions but Kate hated it. Tess’s questions somehow made Kate aware of everything that was wrong with her life and it depressed her. She had questions of her own. She longed to ask Tess about the day their father died but couldn’t find the words. A part of her didn’t want to know what happened that day yet somehow she felt that knowing the truth would free her, but free her of what she wasn’t sure.

  When Ben finally fell asleep Kate went into the room that she and Tess now shared. As she put clothes away, she glanced briefly at Tess’s paintings which were much darker than before and difficult to understand. As she lifted Tess’s most recent pain
ting a small notebook fell from behind it. It was open and Kate read the first page.

  Apologise

  Seán

  Kate

  Ben

  Kate stood and read the list. She was unsure of what it meant but she felt frightened by it. She walked to the kitchen where Tess sat silently by the range.

  “Tess, what is this list for?”

  Tess stood quickly and grabbed the notebook from Kate’s hand.

  “That’s my property, Kate! You shouldn’t touch it!”

  “I know, Tess, but it fell out. What does it mean?”

  “You need to apologise, Kate.”

  “Okay, Tess, I’m sorry for touching your belongings. Will you tell me what it means?”

  “No, Kate. It’s my secret. It’s my job.”

  “Job? What do you mean, Tess?”

  Tess would not answer and Kate felt herself becoming nervous.

  “Tess,” she said crossly and somewhat loudly, “please tell me what this is about!”

  Tess looked toward the floor and started flicking her fingers together. Kate knew their confrontation would not end well and tried to decide whether or not to pursue it.

  “Tess, stay calm. Is this something bad, Tess?”

  “It’s for apologise!” she screamed.

  “But who? Who has to apologise, Tess?”

  “It’s my secret!” she screamed louder.

  Kate looked at Tess in horror. It had been a long time since she witnessed one of these meltdowns and they usually took longer than this to brew. Tess started to bite her hands. Kate ran to the airing cupboard, grabbed a warm sheet and wrapped it around her sister, shushing her and smoothing her hair as Tess’s hands flew about hitting herself on the head and body. Kate dragged them both to the floor where they sat until Tess quietened.