by Carol Coffey
“Shhh, it’s okay, Tess. I won’t ask you any questions. But you can tell me anything that’s upsetting you, okay?”
When Tess went to bed Kate sat there alone, thinking about Tess’s list. At first she had thought the list referred to Tess trying to make up for what she did to the family but now she wondered if somehow Tess blamed them for what had happened and for her being taken away? If this was true, was she intent on revenge? An image of her father beaten and bloodied flashed into her head. But no, she didn’t believe Tess was a violent person, at least not unless someone had done something to her first. But maybe she thought they had betrayed her?
All of these questions whirred around in Kate’s head until she was exhausted. She dragged herself to bed with a splitting headache. There was no point in talking to Seán about it; he had barely spoken to Tess since she returned home except to shout at her.
Kate fell asleep and dreamt of Tess, her list, and Dermot Lynch.
Chapter 11
1971
When their father had been buried a few weeks, Seán Byrne ventured into town for much-needed supplies. It was a moment he dreaded. He knew it took a long time for the dust to settle in small towns but in a place like Árd Glen, it could take a lifetime. He drove his father’s truck by the church and took a left past the rows of tiny houses to the shop. He wished there was another way to get there but the only road drove right past the people he was trying to avoid. Seán did not want to thank people for their condolences. He couldn’t care less that the old man was dead. People knew there was no love lost between them but said their piece anyway and Seán had to suffer their sympathy in two of the town’s shops as he picked up shopping for Kate. People looked up from their work as he passed, some tipping their hats and nodding. Women were the worst, holding his hand and crying for his loss. And what loss was he to them? Michael Byrne had terrorised him and his siblings all his life but especially his poor mother. The only real loss in his death, as far as Seán could see, was that Kate’s engagement was off. Noel Moore didn’t even have the decency to break it to her himself and had not called to the house since the funeral. Coward. Kate had said nothing, dignified to the last, but he had heard her crying late into the night. As he drove back to the farm, he wondered about Tess. He wondered how she was coping, knowing how frightened she’d be in unfamiliar surroundings. He had never had a close relationship with his youngest sister but he did pity her. A lump swelled in his throat. He wanted to go and see her but couldn’t bear to see her eyes, accusing, staring and pleading. He would wait for a while, wait until she had settled in a bit.
At home, Kate was also thinking of Tess as she put Ben down for a nap. She normally made Tess’s lunch at this time, too early for the rest of the family but her sister had to have lunch at the same time each day. The same lunch too: sliced cheese on two slices of homemade brown bread, no butter, with a cup of tea, no milk.
Kate was missing her unusual sister so much. Tess had been the only female company she had. Many of her friends had fallen by the wayside when her mother became ill and she had little free time to spend with them. She thought about their father, now rotting in his grave. She was glad he was gone.
Kate sat down and hugged a hot cup of tea in her hands. It was still summer but the house felt cold. She had not ventured out since the funeral. She couldn’t bear people asking her if she thought Tess did it, if she saw it coming. Two newspapers sent people from Dublin and she had to ask the police to remove them from the front yard. Thankfully the local newspaper respected their privacy and did not write about the murder – but they didn’t need to, everybody was talking about it. She shook her head, trying not to think of Tess, alone and frightened in a strange place. She spent every night crying alone in the room they had shared, wondering if her sister was okay. If Tess did do it, Kate wondered, what would have made her do such a thing? Did she think it would make life better for them all? Kate shook her head again. No, she did not believe Tess did something so evil. Someone had murdered their father but who and why? She felt guilty that she had fleeting suspicions about Seán. She didn’t like lying to the police that they were together and wondered why Seán wouldn’t just say he was with the sick calf, but she had done as he asked and she wondered if she would regret this. It was all so hard to understand.
Kate was surprised that she did not think more about Noel Moore. He had abandoned her when she needed him so she set about hardening her heart towards him. She knew that it would always be just her and Seán now, caring for Ben, and that neither of them would marry. The thought of this neither saddened nor depressed Kate; it was just the way things had turned out. She also knew that it was smarter to accept her fate than fight it, as either way there was nothing she could do.
Tess had been at the hospital for quite a while and neither her sister nor brother had come to see her. Tess thought it must be because they were dead but Dr Cosgrove kept telling her that they were fine, that they just had too much to do on the farm to visit right now. Tess was sure this couldn’t be true because Kate had promised to visit her and Kate always kept her promises.
As she sat at her desk in the hospital school, Tess watched closely as a new girl was brought in and put at the next desk which was usually empty as none of the other children would sit beside her. She noticed that the girl had an unusual colour hair, deep red that didn’t look like it was real. She had an earring in her nose which was something Tess had never seen before. She wanted to touch it to see how it went into her nose and she wondered if it hurt. She noticed that the new girl had a cough and sniffed every few seconds and found herself copying this after each sniff.
Within seconds, the girl looked up and stared crossly at Tess.
“What’s your problem?”
Tess did not answer.
“I said, what’s your problem?”
“She doesn’t talk!” a voice from the other side of the class shouted. “She’s retarded! She just bites!”
The teacher looked up from her book and shouted “Silence!” before returning to her novel, promising herself to give the class more silent work to do when they were finished.
“Are you a retard?” the girl asked, not wanting to pick a fight with a dummy.
Tess did not write the girl a note. She did not know what the word “retard” meant so could not answer the question.
The new girl realised that some of the others were taking an interest in this and she wanted to make an impression; she had to make sure they knew she was tough.
“Well, you better not bite me, or I’ll give you something to worry about,” she whispered.
This made no sense to Tess who got out of her seat and came closer to the new girl who shrunk back a little.
Tess leant forward, closely inspecting the nose-ring before placing her finger lightly over it, feeling for its entry point.
“What – what are you doing?” the girl asked nervously.
“Just bite her!” a voice said from the other side. “Give her a taste of her own medicine!”
The new girl’s lip trembled slightly. “Get away from me!” she demanded but Tess, mesmerised by the ring, could not hear her and leant in closer, trying to pull the nose-ring out.
“Aahhggh!” the new girl screamed.
The others moved from their desks and gathered round.
“Fight, fight, fight!” they chanted.
The teacher automatically shouted “Silence!” once more from her seat at the top of the large class, unperturbed by the din.
The new girl reached her hand forward and slapped a shocked Tess into reality.
Tess had not heard any of the conversation in the room since she moved from her seat and had no idea why the girl had hit her. She lashed out and held the girl’s offending hand firmly before biting down hard and then retreating under her desk for safety. The girl screamed and stood at her desk, screaming for help, while other children tried to drag Tess from her hiding place. The teacher, knowing her reading time was over, moved quickly down th
e room and grabbed Tess who kicked out and scratched the hands that touched her, including those of two nurses who had come to investigate the noise. Eventually she had to be sedated and carried away by an orderly to her solitary room.
Chapter 12
1981
Kate Byrne heard another knock at the door and opened it swiftly, shouting, “Leave us alone!”, only to find a small, fair-haired woman standing white-faced on the doorstep.
“Are you from the newspaper?” Kate asked accusingly.
“No, I’m Nurse O’Connell, from the Health Centre at Knockbeg. I’m here to see Teresa.”
“What for?” Kate asked gruffly, not sure if she was any happier with this visitor than she was with the newspaperman.
“Dr Cosgrove asked me to check on her, see how she’s settling in,” the nurse replied, undaunted by the unwelcome reception she was receiving.
“She’s fine, tell him she’s fine,” Kate said nervously. She hadn’t expected the hospital to send people and didn’t want this type of attention. It was mostly because of Seán. He hated people visiting the farm and discouraged Kate from inviting neighbours in.
Deirdre O’Connell placed her small foot inside the door that Kate was trying to close.
“Em, if it’s all the same to you, I’d like to see her myself, for my report, you know, Mrs –?”
“Miss – eh – Kate. I’m Tess’s sister.”
Sensing that this woman could cause trouble, Kate swung back the door and, standing to one side, let the diminutive community nurse in.
“Wait here, I’ll go get her, she’s in her room,” she said gruffly, suddenly aware of how Tess’s presence was going to disrupt the predictable existence that she and Seán had lived.
Deirdre O’Connell remained standing just inside the front door, in a hall which led into the tiny, old-fashioned kitchen. She looked around and saw that the house was not kept as clean as it could be. She knew there was another autistic child in the family and wondered if the responsibility was wearing on the older sister who had reluctantly let her in. She was used to the half-hearted welcome she got from people. Most people were suspicious of help from the Health Board, especially because it was free.
Deirdre turned to find Tess had come into the room and was standing there, staring at her.
“Hello, Teresa. I’m Nurse O’Connell. Dr Cosgrove asked me to look in on you.”
“Look in on me?” Tess asked flatly, turning her head to one side as she always did when she didn’t understand what was said.
“She doesn’t understand expressions like that,” Kate offered quickly, embarrassed now that she had been so rude to the nurse who was, after all, only doing her job.
“Of course! Sorry. Can I call you Tess?” Deirdre asked
Tess nodded, waiting to hear what “Look in on you” meant.
“What I mean is, I wanted to see how you are,” Deirdre went on quickly.
Tess wondered why people had to say things so strangely when there were easier ways to speak.
“Tess, I’m the community nurse for this area and I wonder if it would be all right to visit you from time to time? I have a lot of experience working with people who have –” Deirdre paused, unsure if Tess was aware of her condition and looked to Kate who nodded to her, “– who have autism. Maybe I could call in to see if I can help you in any way . . .”
Tess nodded and walked out of the room, back to her drawing which was nearly finished. On a large piece of paper, placed squarely on the chest of drawers, Tess had drawn Kate standing at the kitchen sink, her eyes looking out into the field. Seán was sitting in a chair beside the range, his back turned to the artist while Ben had no mouth and sat in the corner, staring into space. Through the kitchen window a miniature Dermot was walking towards the house, his face blurred in the distance.
Kate offered the woman a cup of tea, hoping Seán would not come in until she had left.
Deirdre accepted. Kate made the tea and joined her at the table.
“I know it’s my first time to meet you but you seem to have your hands full. Is there anything I can do for you?” the nurse asked dutifully.
“No, no, I mean, it’s hard sometimes but I’m used to it,” said Kate, her head lowering slightly. She was not used to people asking her how she was coping and unexpectedly felt tears welling in her eyes.
“What about your younger brother – he attends school?” the nurse asked, pretending not to notice the woman’s tears. She felt she understood her and if Kate Byrne was to fall apart on their first meeting, she knew her pride would get in the way of Deirdre visiting on a regular basis.
“Yes,” Kate replied, quickly brushing away the tears before looking straight at the nurse. “He goes every day, a bus picks him up. He turns thirteen in June. He can’t do much for himself and now with Tess here . . .” Damn. More tears. What was happening to her? She used to be stronger than this.
“What does Tess do all day?” Deirdre asked.
“She helps me a bit but mostly she wanders around the farm. She likes animals and follows Dermot around – you know, asking questions and that. He works here. She’s – she’s acting a little strange. I found her trying to open my older brother’s mouth when he was sleeping the other day. He roared at her and she ran off. When I asked her about it later she said she wanted to check his teeth! Oh, I don’t know. She’s so hard to understand sometimes because she can’t tell you what she’s thinking.”
“I could get some help for you, organise someone to come in –”
“No!” Kate said loudly, before lowering her voice, embarrassed. “My brother doesn’t like people in the house. He hasn’t been the same since our father died.”
Deirdre, undaunted, persevered. “I can see if there is any day placement for Tess in the area. If not, perhaps you’d let me visit, give you a hand while I’m passing. I think I can help Tess and perhaps there is some work I can do with Ben. You know, help him become more independent?”
Kate smiled at the nurse. The school had worked with Ben for years and had worked with Tess before that and neither of them seemed to make much progress. Ben, of course, had a more severe form of autism than Tess and Kate did not hold much hope for him as he seemed so much more helpless than Tess ever did. Despite her misgivings she found herself saying yes and thanking the nurse for her interest and as she closed the door she found herself looking forward to her company. Kate had not realised just how lonely she was until now.
Chapter 13
1951
Maura screamed while the local midwife tried to pull the almost blue baby from her. She had been in labour for over nine hours and the pain had been unbearable, much worse, she was sure, than when she gave birth to Seán. Michael was nowhere to be seen. Once he had fetched the midwife and dropped Seán off to Maura’s mother, he had disappeared. With one last push, a baby girl gushed out and to the midwife’s relief started to cry.
“There you are, Mrs Byrne, a lovely baby girl! I’ll go find your husband after I clean you up.”
When Maura held the baby in her arms, she felt pangs of guilt as she thought of the early days when she had hoped she would miscarry this beautiful baby.
“She’s beautiful! Another redhead! Have ye a name picked for her?” asked the middle-aged midwife who had also delivered Seán.
“Kate,” Maura replied quietly, “I’d like to call her Kate. I always liked that name.” She stared at her daughter’s beautiful face and caressed her dark-red hair as one solitary tear moved slowly down her cheek and onto the sleeping baby’s face. “I was that colour too when I was born. I think she’ll be as dark as me when she’s older,” she said more to herself than to the midwife. “Seán’s hair was a much brighter red.”
When the midwife left and she was alone in the house Maura kissed the sleeping baby, squeezing her lightly for fear that she would vanish.
“You’ll never know the pain I’ve felt being a woman in this world, Kate. I’ll teach you all you have to know to survive
. You’ll be nobody’s fool, Kate, and no man will ever lay a hand on you. I’ll make you strong if it’s the last thing I do in this life.” Maura leaned back upon the pillow and fell into a deep sleep, the baby still sleeping soundly in her arms.
When Maura woke it was dark. She got up and placed the baby in the crib that Seán had now outgrown, then went back to bed. An hour later, Michael came home and Maura heard him noisily making tea in the kitchen before coming into the room, banging drawers and wardrobe doors, the smell of whiskey saturating the tiny, stuffy bedroom. Maura sat up and stared into the darkened room, frightened that he would hurt the child. She didn’t know what he was looking for and was afraid to speak. After a few seconds, he walked out, banging the door and waking the sleeping baby. Maura rose to pick up the startled baby and heard him bang his bedroom door to settle down to sleep.
Relieved, she dragged her aching body to the kitchen and made herself some tea. As she sat by the cold range, she realised that she had not thought of Éamonn at all this day. She felt numb as she sipped her tea and stared out of the kitchen window into the darkness. Her thoughts of escape were now gone. She had made her mistakes and had to pay the price. Her mother would bring Seán back tomorrow and she would devote her life to bringing up her two children and protecting them as best she could from the husband to whom she was now tied. Michael had married her for her land and was using her indiscretions as currency to protect his own secret, imprisoning and binding them together for better or worse.
Michael Byrne sat in a quiet corner of Slattery’s pub, wanting to stay out of sight tonight in particular. The baby had been christened today and it had gone off okay, his naïve father cooing over the little girl as though she really was his grandchild. Michael realised his mother knew better as she eyed him over ham sandwiches and pots of tea in Maura’s tiny kitchen. He also noticed how Maura’s father would not look him in the eye. Old Man Kelly was no fool and knew that marriage had not tamed his wild daughter. Poor fool, Michael thought. He had got what he wanted, a farm, and if Maura’s father thought it was ever going to be a real marriage he was wrong. Even Maura’s brother Jimmy, recently returned from the sanatorium in Dublin, knew that he was not the child’s father and the polite, strained conversation that took place irritated him. He felt trapped. In any case he found these family get-togethers intolerable and was happiest when roaming the farm alone or in the pub where he was still alone despite the crowd, watching other people live the life that he never quite understood.