by Carol Coffey
“No. The youngest son tried to run it for a while but gave up, went to London. Was it Doyle? No. The land was terrible. The house is derelict now. There hasn’t been anyone there for years. The old couple died many years back as I remember.”
“Is it important?” Ryan asked hopefully.
“Ah no, just couldn’t make out who she was,” Seán said, his face lowered towards the pint of Guinness in front of him. As he put the black liquid to his mouth he shivered slightly. It tasted awful. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to it and as he took his second sup he was aware that his uncle and cousin had left the pub, closing the door quietly behind them.
Seán was no better off really. If it was this Brigid, no one knew her last name and even if they did, she was probably married now. He’d never find her.
When Seán staggered home a few hours later Kate stayed in bed, listening to her brother fumble and smash against furniture in the darkness. She did not get up; it would only lead to an argument. She lay awake that night, long after Seán had fallen into a drunken slumber and wondered why Maura had not told her that Michael Byrne was not her father. Kate decided that tomorrow she would try to talk some sense into Seán. There was just the two of them now and they only had each other to rely on.
Chapter 17
1981
Deirdre O’Connell sat in Kate Byrne’s kitchen for the second time in a week. Luckily for Kate, Seán was never around when the community nurse called. Deirdre was proving to be great with Tess and had come up with good ideas for Ben. Kate was already beginning to understand him better and found her younger brother calmer than he had been in a long time. As Deirdre put her coat on to leave Kate felt a rush of emotion towards her new acquaintance.
“You know, no one has helped me for a long time. Thanks.”
Kate could feel the tears welling in her eyes. It was true that no one helped her but she hadn’t needed anyone in a long time either – she felt more vulnerable that way and generally felt that it was best to stand on her own two feet. Even Seán had let her down over the last few years, drinking whatever meagre money the farm made and having to hire help to get the work done while he ruined his health through drink.
“You’re welcome, Kate,” the nurse replied, smiling warmly. “I’ll be back Tuesday to see how things are going.”
As they stood together at the back door, they watched Tess talking to Dermot who was teaching her how to ride the old farm horse.
“Hey, Kate, have you noticed that your man’s not bad looking?” The nurse laughed and laughed even more when she noticed Kate blushing.
Kate stood by the door and waved as Deirdre drove off. Then she stood watching Tess ride the horse that looked like it had seen better days. Dermot, who was tall and had hair as dark as her own, wasn’t bad looking and, yes, she had noticed him. She felt her face redden as she saw Dermot place his hands on Tess’s waist and lift her from the horse. She would have to talk to him to make sure he was not getting any ideas about her younger sister.
Later that afternoon, Tess found Dermot under the ancient tractor, which had broken down yet again.
“Tess, hand me the large wrench there. No, not that one, the one beside your feet.”
“I like helping you, Dermot.”
“Well, I like when you help.”
Dermot found himself a much more pleasant person around this girl. Her honesty amazed and pleased him, as he was a little like Tess himself. He didn’t understand why people didn’t tell the truth and hated to be lied to.
“Dermot, can I ask you a personal question?”
Here we go, Dermot thought to himself. “Yes.”
“Do you think Kate is pretty?”
Dermot looked up in surprise. He was expecting a question about the population of Galway or something statistical like that.
“Em – yes, of course she’s pretty.” He wasn’t going to lie to the only truly honest person he knew.
“Well,” Tess replied happily, “Kate thinks it’s very interesting that you don’t have a girlfriend.”
Dermot did not answer. He wanted to know more about the conversation that Tess and Kate had obviously had about him but couldn’t bring himself to ask. It was true, he liked Kate Byrne. When he first met Kate he thought that although she was an attractive woman, there was something very sad about her. He felt sorry for her, not only caring for her younger brother but also her older one who became weaker by the month and was drinking even more heavily these days. In time, Dermot saw what a strong person she was and he started to think of her differently. He admired her.
He doubted if Kate put the girl up to saying this but if she did, he had to send the right message back.
“Well, Tess, I think it’s a shame that your pretty sister doesn’t have a boyfriend,” he replied, cringing slightly as he could never be described as the romantic type.
Well, now he had said it and by morning Kate might be happy to know that he admired her or else Seán would sack him for making unwelcome advances to his sister.
Dermot finished his makeshift repairs to the tractor and stood up, dusted his overalls down and mounted the prehistoric machine. Tess, happy with his answer, jumped up beside him, anxious to see if the repairs had worked.
Kate Byrne saw Dermot through the kitchen window and knew she had to talk to him about Tess. Deirdre was coming today and she would mention the problem to her also.
“Dermot, have ya a minute?”
Dermot came into the tiny kitchen, carefully wiping his feet on the mat. He often saw Seán just walk in when Kate had just finished mopping without a thought for his sister.
“Yes, Kate, what can I help ya with?”
Dermot couldn’t help but think about the conversation he had with Tess and found himself imagining himself kissing Kate. His face blushed lightly, hoping she didn’t know what he was thinking.
“Dermot, it’s about Tess.”
“Oh, yes, I know, Kate.” He was trying to make this easy for Kate who he noticed was almost as shy as himself.
“You do?”
“Yeah, I’ve had a lot of conversations with her lately. You know how she is for questions. I have to say I’ve grown very fond of her.”
Kate felt herself reddening. She hadn’t expected Dermot to be so forthright about his feelings for Tess and could feel herself becoming both angry and protective towards her younger sister.
“Dermot, Tess has problems as I am sure you are aware. She is years behind herself. She’s like a young teenager really if you know what I mean.”
“Yeah, I know that but I enjoy talking to her. She’s so honest – there are not many people like her these days. You seem upset, Kate. Do you not want me to talk to her?”
“I don’t want you giving her ideas if that’s what you mean. She’s very – vulnerable. She gets the wrong idea.” She had not wanted this to turn into a row but could see that Dermot wasn’t going to give in easily.
Dermot realised that Kate thought that he was attracted to Tess and smiled inside. She’s jealous, he thought, pleased with himself.
“Ideas? Oh, no, Kate, you’ve got it wrong. It’s em, it’s you – I –” It was no good; he couldn’t come out and say it, couldn’t put himself on the line. He had to think of another way around it. “Kate, Tess gave me the impression that you liked me. I thought you had said something to her.”
Kate looked shocked. “Well, I most certainly did not! As I said, she gets the wrong impression.”
The two of them stood silently in the kitchen, two red faces pointed toward the floor.
Kate, unable to bear the silence, spoke first, her voice calmer than before. “So, you’re not attracted to Tess then?”
“No, Kate, not Tess,” Dermot said quietly as he turned and walked out of the house, embarrassed. It was as much as he could say.
He walked quickly to the side of the house and out of view. He thought he could hear Kate crying and stood there for a while, unsure what to do, before quickening his ste
p across the yard and into the welcoming fields.
Back at the house Kate Byrne sat alone in the kitchen, her body bent forward as though she was in pain. Dermot cared for her, she knew that now and instead of feeling happy or revisiting that girlish giddy feeling when you find out someone likes you, she felt sad. No one had cared for her like that in a long time and it caused memories of Noel to flood back, memories best left alone. Wiping her tears she stood up and looked around the room. Ben would be home in less than an hour and she still had work to do.
Chapter 18
1952
Maura Byrne knew she was pregnant before any visit to the local doctor, her stomach heaving each time she tried to cook a meal. Morning sickness they called it but Maura had it all the time. She was never sick when she was expecting Kate but was sick all though Seán’s pregnancy so she wondered if the baby would be a boy. This time though it was different because the baby was Michael’s. Maura wondered how he would react and hoped he’d be interested in the child. Then a dark cloud descended upon her as she realised that Michael would surely disinherit Seán in favour of his own child. Once she married, the land was no longer her property but belonged to her husband. He could do whatever he liked with it. Maura’s heart quickened as she thought of everything she put up with so that Seán would at least have a future. Kate would be all right, would hopefully marry well but Maura feared for her son who, although not quite three years old, was a shy, withdrawn child who would need every opportunity in life. She couldn’t bring herself to pray she’d lose the child but unconsciously set about working as hard as she could in the house and about the farm.
One afternoon while Maura was on her hands and knees, scrubbing the rough, wooden kitchen floor, Michael walked in and while stepping over her, kicked the basin of water over and pushed her onto the soaking wet floor. Maura groaned as silently as she could, unwilling to let him know he had hurt her and scrubbed even harder. By Monday, she had started to bleed heavily and a few days later the sickness began to subside. She had killed this little human and yet she felt nothing. Michael had destroyed all the good that was once in her. Even her face, once beautiful, now showed hard lines about the mouth and frown lines on her forehead. Maura had only one ambition in life now, to see her two children grown and happy, Seán running the family farm and Kate married to a man who loved her and until then she was prepared to put up with whatever cruelty Michael inflicted upon her.
Chapter 19
1981
Kate tried to keep herself busy as Ben screamed in the bath. Deirdre was teaching him to wash himself and was holding his hand, showing him how to use the soap, and he hated anyone touching him. Kate wondered was it worth it, upsetting him like that. Several times she wanted to rush to his aid and tell Deirdre to leave it, that she’d manage, but something stopped her. Ben had a right to some dignity and it certainly wasn’t very dignified having your sister wash you when you were almost a grown man. When she heard Ben quieten she was even more worried by his silence.
“It’s hard, isn’t it?” Deirdre had snuck up behind her.
“Yes. I know it’s for his own good but he doesn’t understand. He’ll be wondering where I am and I can’t stand that, Deirdre.”
“Change is very hard when you have Ben’s level of autism. Simple things like learning to bathe or in fact anything new will frighten him but he needs to be able to do things for himself.” Deirdre was aware that Kate already knew all these things. She just wanted to reassure her that she was doing the right thing. “Sometimes, Kate, it takes a stranger to help them progress. It’s not good for him to rely on you totally. What if you got sick or went on holiday, got married? It’s better for Ben to get used to as many faces as possible, yeah?”
“Yes, you’re right,” Kate replied doubtfully. It was possible for her to get sick all right. But to get married or go on holiday? Nothing like that was ever going to happen to her now.
“All right then. I’ll pop in on Friday and go through it with him again. You’ll see, Kate, in no time Ben will be bathing himself and that’s just the beginning. He just needs time. I’ve been looking into some work or a training course for Tess, get her out and about. We should be hearing any day soon. See you Friday.”
As Kate waved the nurse off it occurred to her that if Ben was independent and Tess was working, what was she going to do?
Tess stood and stared at Kate in the dark hallway of the cottage. She tilted her head to one side which she always did when she was confused as Kate handed her a small white envelope with her name and address written on it in large, printed letters.
“What is it?”
“It’s a letter, Tess. For you.”
Tess stared back at her sister who stood and waited for her to open the envelope.
Tess tore the envelope and pulled the letter out. “It’s from the training centre!” she cried. “I got a place on the course!”
Kate had never seen Tess get this excited about anything before and felt a surge of emotion, her eyes filling up with silly tears from a mixture of happiness and sadness.
“Kate, why are you crying?” Tess asked.
“I’m not crying, Tess. Read your letter,” Kate replied as she opened the kitchen door and walked into the yard, straight into Dermot who was just coming in.
“Oh, em – sorry,” Kate said quickly. She had tried to avoid Dermot since their conversation about his feelings for her almost two weeks back, leaving his meals in the range, always finding work in some other room when he came in to eat.
“Is everything all right, Kate?” The sound of Dermot’s concerned voice made her feel weak, vulnerable.
“Yes, I’m fine,” Kate replied, looking down at her shoes, embarrassed to have been caught crying. “It’s just, well, Tess. She just got word that she has a place on that training course. She’s so excited – she is actually happy. I just got a bit upset for her, that’s all. You wouldn’t understand.”
“I think I do, Kate. She’s lost out on a lot. She seems to have settled back in well though. I wouldn’t worry about her, Kate.”
“I know, but you see, my mother wanted more for her. She wanted her to get a job. She’s smart, you know. She just doesn’t know how to behave at times, that’s all, but she never got a chance, spent half her life in that place in Dublin.”
Kate noticed that Dermot was listening intently, his eyes fixed on her, dark blue like her own, listening as though anything she had to say was important. She could almost feel herself fall towards him as though he would catch her and in saving her fall take away all her problems and worries. Kate couldn’t believe she was actually telling him this. She was afraid she might be going too far and shook herself slightly as though she had been daydreaming.
“It’s all ancient history now, I suppose,” she said, straightening herself up and wiping her tears. “Sorry.” She brushed by him and walked quickly back into the kitchen, leaving him standing alone in the doorway, staring after her.
Tess brought her letter to the room she shared with Kate and sat quietly on her bed. She was tempted to sit on the floor and to lodge herself between the bed and the dressing table which always made her feel safe but she understood that this looked odd and that Deirdre said she was safe anyway. Tess looked slowly about the room, wanting to savour holding her letter before starting to read it again. The training centre wanted her to start the course in September, a typing and office skills course in Knockbeg. Tess knew that within a few days she would start to worry about the change to her daily life but for now, somebody wanted her and she was happy.
Sam Moran drove to Beech Street police station, about forty miles from Árd Glen, and hoped his journey wasn’t going to be a waste of his time. His employer was growing tired of his excuses for not having come up with a story yet. And time was running out.
When he arrived Flynn was waiting for him in his large office with views over Dublin city centre.
Maurice Flynn was not the young, green detective he had been ten
years ago when he was part of the investigative team in Árd Glen. He was only out of uniform a few years then and had been brought down to learn the ropes. He remembered the case well because it had been the first dead body he had ever seen. His uncle, an inspector, had got him into the force and shielded Flynn a lot, ensuring he worked only in the quietest parts of Dublin. When he passed his detective’s exam and moved to Beech Street Station, the senior Flynn had little say in where his nephew went and Maurice had been relieved. He was ambitious, hoping to go even further than his uncle in the force and knew that he couldn’t achieve that by hiding behind his apron strings. Since the Árd Glen murder, Flynn had worked his way through homicide, married and had three kids. When the late-night calls began to affect his marriage he asked for a transfer to the drug unit, monitoring drug dealers who were now bringing a whole new problem to Ireland, heroin. His success was noted and he received several commendations from the commissioner. He had become a sort of celebrity on the force with young recruits glad to shake his hand and claim they had met him.
“Pretty impressive view!” Moran said, as much to himself as to Flynn.
“Yeah,” Flynn said coolly. “What can I do for you, Mr Moran?”
“Call me Sam, please.”
Flynn did not answer. He dealt with shifty characters on a daily basis, some of them colleagues, and he wasn’t fooled by the neatly dressed reporter who was now smiling at him.
“I’m writing about a murder that happened ten years ago in Wicklow. I believe you were on the case and I was hoping you could help me with some background information.”
“Who was murdered?” Flynn pretended he was actually going to help this slime ball. He saw Moran visibly relax.
“Michael Byrne. A local farmer. His daughter was charged with the murder.”