‘I am.’
It’s then they all start with every ailment they’ve ever had and it is no time until we’re on the ocean. The waves lash the boat and the storm makes me sick. Vomiting, I try not to frighten Fionn. He seems to love the sea and wanders out onto the deck, hand in hand with some of the younger men who aren’t tired of children. The drive to Sligo is a miserable one with me dry heaving into a bucket. The men tease me that I can’t heal myself of what’s wrong with me. They suspect I’m pregnant, but I’m not. There has been no man since Dublin. I try to sleep when Fionn does and I don’t know it until we are pulling into Ballisodare village and up the lane to Violet Cottage.
Jane is out and has us both inside by the range with sugary, milky tea in us, before I can blink. She is all chat about the doctor’s sickness coming on for a long time.
‘Violet ignored all the signs and is off at some church gathering, about f-ing flowers.’ Jane says and then whispers ever so softly, ‘I think it’s the consumption or something worse that we can’t mention. He caught it from his patients. But don’t say I said that now.’
‘I see.’
‘He’s wasted away and is in a pile of pain. The poor divil. No matter what he takes. Not even the poteen helps. ’Tis bad.’
‘Violet’s at the church every hour that God sends. Sure, what use is that?’ Jane smiles at Fionn picking his nose. ‘What a fine boy. You look wrecked, Molly.’
‘I’ve been working.’
‘Healing?’
‘Aye.’
‘Word has been getting back here that you are one famous woman in London. And that you’re singing now on a stage, no less?’
I hadn’t mentioned that to anyone in my letters. Would Mary have written it without me knowing? It is a shameful secret, one that I enjoy, but one that I’m embarrassed about liking all the same.
‘Tell me now about this Italian, before you up to see the doctor?’
‘There’s nothing to tell.’
‘Is he handsome?’
I think of my fine Luca.
‘Is he good to you?’
‘The best. And to Fionn too.’
‘What’s up with him then? You aren’t hitched?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Does he smell of that garlic? That stinks. They say them foreigners smell of it.’
‘He smells nice.’
‘Is he dark-skinned?’
‘Yes.’
‘Everywhere?’ she asks me with a chuckle.
‘I don’t know.’
‘Arah now girl, it’s been months since you mentioned him first. There’s no Violet here now to be tutting her disapproval. We all know Italians are like stallions.’
She always makes me laugh. ‘I missed you, Jane. He wants to wait until we’re married. Do things right.’
‘Of course! And he’ll be lucky to have you.’
‘I’ve a bad temper and he is a good man.’
‘You’re provoked into it. It’s not like you hurt everyone. You’re a healer. A fine woman.’ Jane always lifts me up.
‘This Luca fella? Does he stir the stomach on ya? Do you love him?’ she asks.
‘I don’t know. I should. I’m not sure I know what true love is? Like the feelings in your books. Luca needs a woman who knows what love is. I don’t fully understand it.’
Jane isn’t sure what to make of that. She waits a time and then adds, ‘I’m glad that he’s good to you.’
53
Dr Brady has no beard. Peering around the door, I see him against the far wall in a big mahogany bed, that is now just for himself.
He is different, like he’s lost all of the bits of him that made him the man he was. His spectacles are on the dresser on the far side of the room. He’s paler than a ghost and lost all his chubby cheeks that Violet says are from good livin’. They’ve sunk inwards, hiding his smile. The greasy hair on him is tangled in a mess at the back. His air is lacking in everything. Colour is no longer near his heart or mind and he moans into sighs until he hears the creak of the door that I move more to get into the stuffy room.
‘Hullo, Molly. Welcome home, darling. Jude said you would come.’
I cross the rug on the wooden floor.
‘It smells in here,’ he tells me. ‘Probably stale air. Could you open that window, please?’ He breathes and gathers his strength to continue. ‘You’ve not been in here much. All over the years, this was my safe place. This was where I escaped the world. Now, it’s where I will die. I’ll escape again.’ His voice is firmer then. It is matter-of-fact with the knowledge he has from years of watching as others go over into the light. ‘I told them not to send for you. No healing will cure me.’
I take his hand. We don’t touch often and it feels wrong but right to touch him. He is cold to the bone. Things are bad. His fingers twist around mine. I try to ignore all the places calling for my hands on them. He wouldn’t let me do any healing anyhow, I can sense it. It is pointless and we both know it. We sit a time and look at the bed, the floor, anywhere, but each other.
‘I’m asking the angels and the shadows to bring you peace,’ I say. ‘They live with us in the dark and always try to lead us to the light.’
‘You’ve always believed, despite all life threw at you, you’ve always believed.’ He pulls at his nose to stop the tears. ‘I’m young in the grand scheme of things but I know I must go and I am ready. Violet and Jude will need you to look after them.’
I pull away from his grasp. I am shocked by that. No-one ever asked me to look after anyone – nor anything. Bredagh took over the minding of Hull and I know the doctor and his wife have somehow found and sent Booky Mary to look after Fionn and me.
‘Me? Look after Violet and Jude?’
‘Yes. You. They’ll be lost, when I’m gone. They’ll need you.’
‘I can barely look after myself. We both know I’m not the full shilling.’
‘You’re the fullest person I know.’
His opinion has always mattered to me. A nod, wink or ruffle of my hair, always brought me joy.
‘I will miss you. Jude will miss you.’
‘I’ll always be close by.’
‘Does Jude know what’s happening?’
‘We keep lots from him, don’t we? He needs to know about the world and his place in it.’
‘Yes.’
‘Should I tell him that I am not his father? That his father isn’t dying? Should we tell him that he is not ours?’ A choking sob leaves and he coughs for a time to hide that he’s crying. I sit on the bed and wait, watching the curtains blow in the breeze. I spy Jude coming home from school, his bag on his back. He is tall for ten years old, growing like a weed but blossoming like an ear of wheat. Cold skin meets mine again and I know the doctor wants me to tell Jude the truth for them.
‘I will,’ I say.
‘You’ll tell him? If he doesn’t know, you’ll give him the truth?’
‘If you’re sure?’
He leans back on the pillow that needs to be moved up his back more. I rise and tug at it a bit.
‘It won’t be long,’ he tells me.
I fix his bed clothes. ‘It’s never bothered me to know of someone dying before.’
‘That is so sad.’ Dr Brady leans forward. ‘Your mother’s death hit you hard?’
‘I killed her, that’s why.’
‘Darling dear, you were eight years old. Your mother died in childbirth.’
‘I slowed her heart. I’ve been paying for it ever since.’
‘There’s no way you could…’
I pull over the chair, sit and watch the curtain make patterns when it moves.
‘I slowed Hull’s heart to let him die too. He was in pain and was dying. That makes it different. But, I wanted to kill Mammy.’ I let it linger between us. ‘Somehow letting Hull go was the right thing for me to do. I wasn’t evil then. He needed it. It was my gift to his soul.’
‘You must always remember me. Always remember the good people,
the ones who love you. Help Jude find his way and become a good man. Let yourself be the woman I know you should be.’
‘Stop now.’
‘Let yourself have happiness. Let healing into yourself. Do you hear me now?’
‘I hear you.’
There’s a pounding of young footsteps up the stairs and Jude bursts into the room. His hair all blonde and floppy despite the Brylcreem he has tried to use. I can’t think who he looks like. Thankfully, he is the opposite of his parents in every way. Handsome and smiling, full of laughter, despite the pain in his heart at the doctor being sick.
‘Look who’s home,’ the doctor breathes hard. ‘Isn’t it great she’s come to care for us all? Don’t say anything yet, Molly. I’d love some tea instead. Jude always comes up straight after school to tell me about his day and what’s happening in the world. Don’t you, son?’
Jude is not fully listening to him, he’s in my arms muffling he is glad at seeing me. A feather floats and lands in his hair. I pluck it off and put it into the pocket of my jacket and smooth down my skirt as I make my leave of them.
‘We love Molly, don’t we Jude?’ the doctor says and winks at me.
‘I’ll be down in a while,’ Jude squeals at my back, ‘I’ll bring up his tea then.’
There’s a smell of onions and something meaty in Jane’s kitchen as she puts on the kettle. ‘I can’t imagine how changed he is to you,’ she says. ‘He’s getting weaker by the minute.’
‘He is not the same man at all.’
‘Violet refuses to see it. Or believe it. She never normally leaves Violet Cottage. It’s beyond terrible that she can’t be with him now. A young buck has taken over the doctoring in the surgery next door. I can’t abide to think he’ll be here and that our kind Dr Brady will be gone.’ The kettle whistles and she asks, ‘Do you think it will be long?’
‘Not long. He wants me to tell Jude about everything.’
‘I think that boy knows already, you know. I think he’s got the gifts you have. I’m almost sure he does.’
My heart does a bit of a jig for a few seconds. Someone might understand me. I might not be alone in the world of knowing, yet not knowing things. ‘But surely I’d see it in him?’
‘You’d think you would, but maybe he is as good a play-actor as you are?’ Jane winks. ‘I’m telling you that boy has gifts anyhow. He does have the healing, as surely as there’s a nose on my face.’
The tea-tray is ready and there is no sign of Jude to get it. I go to take it up to them and my feet on the stairs are heavy. I know that there are things to face that I won’t like. All is tiring and grey in the house. Death lingers in the corners of every room. It chokes me to know it is there.
Jude is leaning into the side of the bed. He doesn’t move when I enter. I can hear him sobbing.
‘I’ve stopped his heart, Molly. I’ve stopped it for him.’
I put the tray on a chair and go to them. There is no need for me to ask how he did it or why. We both know.
‘Violet said her goodbyes over and over. Even before you came we knew he wanted away. I just knew it. I’m so bad to him. I took his breathing away. I’m sorry. I couldn’t watch his suffering any more.’
I hold Jude’s slim shoulder and he pushes me off it. I can tell that he knows all the truths that have never been said out loud; Jude knows where he’s from and who he is. It is all laid out there in a puddle in his mind.
‘You did the right thing,’ I tell my little brother. I kneel on my hunkers and move his flop of hair. ‘You love him. You did this out of love. It came from the right place inside you.’
He nods and snot drips from the end of his perfect nose.
‘But we mustn’t tell anyone what you did. Not even Violet or Jane.’
There are drips as his head moves up and down. ‘He waited until he saw you again,’ Jude sobs. ‘He told me that I was to look after you and Mammy now.’
‘We’ll need a strong man.’
‘I can’t, you know. I can’t do very much at all. I’m only a boy really.’
‘You’re a fine man today, Jude Brady. You are a fine man.’
54
‘I killed him,’ Jude sobs into my shoulder.
‘He was ready. You took away his pain. That’s a great gift. Maybe the best gift of all.’
Jude is too young, like I was, to fully understand what has happened.
‘You knew deep in your belly that this was what he needed. You knew it.’
‘He didn’t ask me, though. He took my hand and held it on his chest.’
‘That was asking. You heard his voice in your head, pleading.’
‘Why didn’t he ask you to do it?’
‘He knew it had to be you.’
‘Why?’
‘It was to be someone who had pure love in them for him. Someone who had no baggage of time or worry. The greatest love of his life was you, Jude. He needed it to be you.’
‘Why didn’t he ask you?’
‘He knew I might not do it again.’
‘Again?’
I gulp, taking a glance at the dead body in the bed who was my silent, quiet rock.
‘Our mother, Jude. The night you were born.’
‘What about her?’
‘I held my hand on her heart and let her go.’
‘Did she ask you too?’
‘In a way.’
‘And you saved me?’
‘I suppose I did. But, for a long time – maybe until this very minute, I felt like I killed her.’
‘But she was hurting?’
‘She was. It was the first time I felt a strong surge in my hands. I just knew what to do.’
Jude shakes his hands, understanding me.
‘I think we’re all put in people’s paths for a reason. We can choose to help or hinder them,’ I tell him. ‘The angels live with us in the dark and take us to a better place.’
‘Into their light.’ His shoulders shake but he doesn’t want to be pulled into my arms. He pushes me away and says, ‘He just stopped breathing. I didn’t do much. He asked me to sing to him. How could I sing? I looked at him and cried. What good was I to him at all? He brought me here to kill him. That’s what I did. I killed him. All he does for me and I kill him. All he DID. I killed my lovely daddy.’
‘Shhh,’ I urge at him. ‘You killed nobody. Whist now.’
‘Jane will go mad if she knows what I did.’
‘They might understand,’ I whisper at him. ‘But they mightn’t. Dr Brady knew to have us alone with him.’
‘Why did he need me to do that?’ There’s liquid everywhere from Jude’s face, on my hands, on my clothes. ‘Thou shalt not kill. I’ve sinned.’
‘Stop that now! Does he look like a man who has been killed?’
Dr Brady’s face is at peace. There is no question he is no longer in pain. The lines, wrinkles and bad colour are gone. He is almost like he was before.
‘Would he ever ask you to do anything that was wrong or sinful? He trusted you and maybe this was to show you your power.’
‘He always knew what to do.’
‘He did.’
‘What do we tell them?’ Jude’s shaking finger points to the floor and to downstairs and the world outside this room.
‘Dr Brady died. We were here and he slipped away.’
Jude grabs at the bedclothes trying to find something. ‘I can’t let him go. I can’t. He can’t be gone?’
Jane comes in the door with a creak of the hinges. How long has she been there? Without a sound, she takes Jude by the shoulders and moves him with her back downstairs. I’m left alone with another dead body, but this time I know he loved me as deeply as I loved him.
A feather sits on the pillow next to his cheek. I take it and curl it into my pocket.
55
I wait for Dr Brady to talk to me. Nothing. I thought there might be a glimmer of him left. But no. The curtain moves and there’s only air from outside of him around me.
> There is the faint crying of Jude downstairs and opening and closing of doors, but there is nothing from the best man who ever lived. I should know that the light soaks our souls into it and that Richard Brady will be in perfect peace now – why would he think of me when he’s in a perfect place?
In the silence, I wait. The tone of his singing comes and I can see his smile. Around me is pipe smoke and a rasping of his beard, there’s a wink, a chuck of my chin and his voice telling me, ‘You are the fullest person I know.’
Those are all memories, he is gone and they are not enough.
I do often wish that my shadows had loud voices. Why can’t there be a clear path? A bridge? Signs I can’t miss? Why must everything be so difficult?
‘Talk to me,’ I whisper at his sleeping body. ‘Tell me more of what’s what. If it can’t be loud you’ll still come back to me won’t you? You’ll still be in my head?’
I’ve never wanted anyone to stay with me before. Not like this.
‘This is love,’ I say. ‘Hull tried to teach me it too.’
‘Let’s sing.’ I hum at him. There is nothing. No voice in my head. I should be able to hear it, but then my own earthly voice isn’t strong. There is death, or is it life, that we have to break through to be together? To hear one another we have wildernesses between us now.
‘I don’t want to lose everyone. Who in this world will save me now? I can’t look after everyone. I can’t manage without knowing you are here. Without you, I am not home.’
The shadows are listening, and I hope Richard is too. A firm hand takes my shoulder.
It isn’t Richard’s touch.
‘I’m sorry. Excuse me.’ It is the ‘upstart’ of a young doctor from next door, coming to hold Richard’s wrist and check his chest.
‘I’m sorry for your loss,’ is all that he mutters and shuffles away.
‘We are lost from each other.’ I sing and hold the hand that healed me so many times. ‘You should have met Luca. He is one of the best men… like you. He loves life and is quietly a rescuer of my soul. He will have to be my home now. I just know I can’t let go of my healing again. It is too precious.’
The Healer Page 18