‘I’ll come straight away.’
He turned to Cat. ‘I’ll drive ye both down in my motor car. I didn’t think he was lookin’ good. C’mon now, I’ll just get me bag and we’re away,’ he said to them.
Daniel drove quickly out of the town, raced along Cashel Road and straight down the boreen to Monroe.
Tom and Daniel ran into the cottage, followed by Cat where Norah was sponging Ned’s face as he lay on their couch.
It was so dark inside it took a few moments for Daniel’s eyes to adjust to the gloom, but soon he could see that Ned was in a bad way and had probably had a heart attack.
Daniel turned to Tom.
‘Can ye send the children into the bedroom with Norah?’
‘Sure,’ Tom said looking at his wife. ‘Norah take the children into the bedroom.’
Norah instantly ushered the children away from the room.
‘Just call if ye need me,’ she whispered and closed the door.
Daniel listened to Ned’s heart and held his wrist feeling the pulse. It was too irregular and weak for his liking, but Ned was conscious, looking alarmed and struggling to speak. But then without warning Ned became very calm and closed his eyes.
Stricken speechless by yet another dilemma for this family, Daniel hesitated to turn and tell Tom and Cat that Ned needed a priest, but he knew what he must do this time, everything must be correct.
‘Tom, I think we should go for the priest, yer father’s heart is not in good shape.’
‘Right, I’ll send Edward on his bike, ’twill be quicker than me runnin’.’
Tom opened the bedroom door, beckoned to the child and whispered the errand to him.
Edward shot out of the cottage and began pedalling for all he was worth in the direction of the priest’s house.
Cat sank to her knees holding Ned’s hand, buried her face in his rough old jacket and cried.
‘Daddy, don’t leave us. Please, don’t go. We’ve not had long enough. Please open yer eyes.’
She felt Tom’s hand on her shoulder.
‘Don’t, Cat. Let him go. He’s not been the same since Mummy died. He’s tired and he’s ready to join her. Let him rest in peace.’
‘Why does all this keep happening to our family?’ she cried.
It was Daniel who answered. ‘It happens to all families, Cat. It’s just tough it’s all happened in a short space of time for all of ye.’
The men stood watching Ned labour for breath, his face pallid and swathed in perspiration. He was slipping away and Cat could not bear it.
‘Give him some brandy, or somethin’ to bring him round, can’t ye?’ she cried to Daniel.
’Twould be dangerous to introduce any drink at present, it could choke him as he isn’t awake, Cat.’
‘Well ye can’t just stand there both of ye’s. Do somethin’ for God’s sake,’ she yelled.
Daniel bent down and lifted Cat up, putting his arm around her shoulders. He spoke to her soothingly.
‘Cat, yer father has a weak heart; all the emotion of recent months has taken its toll. When he’s called to the Lord, ’tis his time, and as mere mortals we cannot override God’s will.’
They heard Edward skid into the yard, throw down his bike and burst through the cottage door.
‘Father O’Dowd’s on his way,’ he said ‘he’s drivin’ in his motor car.’
Norah brought Teresa in from the bedroom and they all drew up chairs around Ned’s prone form, now covered with a blanket. Minutes later they heard the unmistakable sound of the priest’s car chugging down the boreen.
The car door slammed and Father O’Dowd appeared, framed by the doorway, his figure silhouetted against the light outside. He strode into the room and donned his robes.
They were aware of the clock on the wall marking off the minutes of Ned’s life, and when he began to make a strange noise in his throat Daniel shot a glance at Father O’Dowd.
The priest immediately made the sign of the cross above Ned’s body and began to recite words that were the most unwelcome sounds to all of them.
‘Ego te absolvo. Omnibus peccatis tuis. In nomine Patris et Fillii et Spiritu Sancto…’
79
O’Connell’s Hotel
January 1938
Cat sat with her arm around Ned’s sister, Nellie. She had been deeply shocked, unable to work since hearing about Ned’s death, and as a result her husband Mick had to take over all her duties in the hotel.
‘We’ve to go to the solicitor’s in the mornin’ Auntie,’ Cat said softly, ‘to hear Daddy’s Will read. Will ye come?’
‘No. No. I don’t think so Pet. ’Tis for all his children to go, not me.’
‘As you please, Auntie. But I don’t want ye to feel we’re leavin’ ye out of things.’
‘Ah, Cat. This is somethin’ I wish I’d been left out of entirely. Ye’ve hardly buried yer own little darlin’ and now this! ’Tis a cruel world at times ye know,’ she said patting Cat’s hand, ‘God forgive me, but I wonder who in the world’s lookin’ out fer us up there.’ She pointed skywards.
‘I know what ye mean,’ Cat murmured, ‘what a time of it we’ve had. It cannot get any worse now, can it?’
Inwardly Cat was hoping Auntie Nellie didn’t go the same way soon. She felt all the people that she held onto in the back of her mind, her securities in life, were falling away. Disappearing, leaving her to face things alone.
* * *
Tom knocked on the solicitor’s door and turned the brass knob when he heard him call for them to come in. Cat, Peggy and Breda followed him.
Sean Burke rose from his leather chair and took off his glasses which he placed on the desk in front of him.
‘I’m sorry to meet ye all on this sad occasion,’ he began, ‘please accept my condolences. He was a fine man, yer father. Yes, a fine man.’ Then he seemed to be counting up something in his head, nodding. ‘Two, three, four, me five and Miss O’Carroll, that’ll be six,’ he said.
He called for Miss O’Carroll to join them from the outer office and soon a mousey little woman poked her head around the door. Sean Burke raised his eyebrows.
‘Please Miss O’Carroll,’ he said to her, ‘would ye bring in another chair?’
He then turned his attention back to the family. ‘Sit yerselves down. Yes indeed, sit yerselves down.’
Sean Burke went through the preliminary details of the paperwork and said that he had been empowered to deal with Ned’s estate.
Tom shifted in his chair, clearly ill at ease. If Ned had written anything into his Will that altered his position he could find himself in a difficult situation.
The solicitor put on his glasses and began reading out Ned’s Will, outlining the features that incorporated his estate.
Some of it seemed a little odd to Cat as the Will referred to the farm at Monroe eventually being taken over by Tom, his eldest son, when he became of age, and of an amount compensating his daughters, Peggy, Mary, Ellen, Catherine and Breda to the sum of £50 each.
Sean Burke read on.
‘The estate comprisin’ of the cottage known as Monroe and the smaller cottage known as Granny’s cottage beside the bank of the Clashawley River to be passed to his only son, Thomas Delaney.’
Cat took a sharp intake of breath. Daddy had expressly told her he was leaving the cottage to her, so that she would always have somewhere to come home to.
Sean Burke finished reading the rest of the Will and drew a piece of paper from his folder.
‘If ye take a look at this account I have of yer father’s estate, ye’ll see that there is now no money left to pay any compensation to ye ladies as the taxes on the land have been increased since this was written and eaten away any surplus put aside for that purpose. So if ye’ll all sign to that effect, then our business is done.’
He looked up, took off his glasses, smiled and pushed the piece of paper towards Cat.
‘Ye’d better read what ye’re signin’ for,’ he said grinning,
‘or ye may find ye owe someone a fortune.’
He clearly thought the whole thing was some sort of joke, Cat thought, and tried to quickly take in the words on the paper. But the writing swam before her eyes and she felt hot and faint. It had all been too much for her and she wanted nothing now but to get out of the solicitor’s office, pack her bag and travel back to England.
Without another word, and not having read what the solicitor had pushed over the table for her signature, she signed.
The other sisters signed too, obviously in a state of shock themselves, and Tom, looking distinctly uncomfortable, signed last of all.
Then Cat decided to ask the question that had formed in her mind.
‘Excuse me Mr. Burke, but can ye tell me when this Will was written, only it mentions me sister, Mary and she’s been dead some years now.’
‘Ah. Yes. Good point,’ he said twisting the Will round so that he could re-read it. ‘Yes, ’twas written in 1915.’
Twenty three years ago, Cat thought. Long before all this happened! Before any of us married, and had families, or when Mummy had died. She realised that Ned had obviously forgotten to update it. His wish that she should have Granny’s cottage to always give her a home in Ireland, had disappeared as quickly as rain drops evaporate when kissed by the sun.
80
Hogan’s Stables,
January, 1938
Paddy lay slumped on his couch, where he had passed out drunk the night before. He had not washed or changed his clothes for days and had drunk himself into oblivion.
In his madness, the images, first of Marie and then Cat, danced before his eyes; tormenting, laughing at him, drowning him in kisses, then scratching his face with a thousand razors, tearing his hair out…they kept interchanging until he was driven crazy and had drunk enough to poison himself.
Cat pulled the donkey cart to a halt, dismounted and marched up to the house with a riding whip in her hand. She was hot with anger as she banged on the front door.
‘C’mon out Paddy Hogan!’ she shouted.
But deeply asleep, Paddy didn’t hear.
Undeterred, she hammered on the door again and when there was no reply she tried the latch. It opened. So she marched in unafraid to face the man who had, in her estimation, been responsible for initiating all her problems for so long.
She stood inside the doorway and listened. The sound of loud snores came from the room to the left of the hall so she pushed the door open and saw him asleep, mouth wide open, shirt unbuttoned and trousers undone. The sight of him repelled her.
She stormed out and made her way down to the kitchen at the end of the hall, filled a jug with water, returned to the sleeping Paddy, and threw the contents over him.
He stirred and then sluggishly tried to sit up.
‘C’mon, get up ye filthy swine,’ Cat shouted. ‘Did ye think yer little game would go undetected eh? Did ye think ye could just take advantage of Marie and that nobody would find out? Ye stinkin’ worm of a creature.’
‘Wha’ ye talkin’ about?’ Paddy slurred without moving. He frowned as he focussed on Cat’s angry face.
‘Ye know what I’m talkin’ about, and if ye think for one minute I’m sucked in by yer feigned ignorance, it won’t wash.’ Cat took a step backwards. ‘This is what I should have done years ago.’
She lifted the whip and slashed it across his face. The first slash drew blood, and egged on by her success, she whipped him again and again.
He raised his arms and tried to shield his face but when he did she just slashed across them too, pleased when red wheals stood proudly out on his flesh. His shirt split under the assault by the leather thong, blood oozing from the slits.
Satisfied he would bear the marks for all to see, she lowered her arm. Then she stepped towards him and spat in his face.
‘There, that’s for me daughter.’
Then she spat on him again.
‘And that’s for me Dada, ’cos yer actions robbed him of both his daughter and granddaughter.’
Finally she spat at him once more.
‘And that’s for me. If ye thought ye were bein’ clever coverin’ me head with a sack all those years ago, ye weren’t! I knew all along it was ye. Ye great spineless heap. Look at ye! Never able to stand up and own up to what ye’ve done. Yer nothin’ but a murderin’ bastard and I hope ye rot in hell.’
Cat turned and strode from the room, along the hall and out of the front door, which she left swinging open.
Satisfied, she climbed aboard the cart and rode away.
81
St. Mary’s Convent,
Eltham
September 1939
Mother Superior had asked Cat to pop in to see her after she finished work, so having put her apron in her bag, she combed her hair and went along to the nun’s office.
‘Come in Cat.’
Mother Superior’s door was open and Cat saw she was stacking books on her desk from the shelves.
‘Ye wanted to see me, Mother.’
‘Yes, Cat. Sit down my dear; it’s a sad day for us all.’
‘What is it, Mother? Is anythin’ wrong?’
‘Yes my dear. Now that war has been declared, the convent is being requisitioned by the army and we have to leave. So I’m so sorry, Cat, but this means we have to let you go I’m afraid.’
The news hit Cat like a body blow.
Mother Superior could see that this poor woman, who had stood by them for a number of years, was to lose not just her job but a way of life. They had existed together in such harmony and she knew that in the absence of any family in England, she had been a substitute, a confidant, and a friend.
‘Cat, I can’t tell you how sorry I am. You’ve meant far more to us all than just our cleaner. There will never be another one to take your place and I mean that from the bottom of my heart.’
She opened a drawer and took out an envelope. ‘Don’t be offended, I know you are a very proud woman, but we’ve had a little collection for you as a sign of our appreciation and our love.’ She pushed the envelope toward Cat.
Overwhelmed, Cat could not speak. Tears brimmed from her eyes and pushed their way down her cheeks. She wiped them away with her hand, and then pulled a handkerchief from the sleeve of her cardigan.
‘Ye know, Mother, I never dreamed the day would dawn when I didn’t work here. It’s become a kinda home to me.’
‘I know my dear, and you have been our sister all the way along the years.’
She then took another envelope from her drawer. ‘In here, Cat, is a reference for the future should you ever need it, with our address in Surrey where we are to be sent for the duration of the war. But in the meantime, I hope you don’t mind but I’ve spoken to the Father Fitzgerald and he has agreed to employ you for as long as possible. That way, you will not suffer financially.’
‘I don’t know what to say, Mother. I’m desolate at the thought of not seein’ ye again, ye’ve been everythin’ to me over the years, and to my children. God bless ye for all the kindness ye’ve shown me.’
‘Well, Cat. I’m afraid we will have to say goodbye. Hopefully we may re-convene after the war, and I’m sure that you will be the first one I shall contact upon our return. Unfortunately the Ministry of Defence has not given me any time to tie up the ends, we have to go immediately.’
‘Goodbye then, Mother. And until we meet again, may God keep ye in the palm of his hand.’
82
Eltham,
July 1940
Cat had been in her new job for nine months. It wasn’t the same as working for the nuns and her heart wasn’t in it.
Father Fitzgerald was kind enough, but she couldn’t talk to him in the same way. Often when things were going wrong in her life she yearned to turn to Mother Superior and pour out her heart.
But now, at last, things were about to change for her. Ellie and Michael were on their way home from America.
Their inability to raise the money for the passage home from
America had been overcome. The Woolwich Arsenal required an increase in their workforce and so paid the fares of any worker who was employed during World War I. Ellie had the experience to re-convene without too much time wasted.
So when Ellie and Michael arrived they had accommodation waiting for them, and even some furnishings.
Cat’s spirits soared. At last, another family member to be with her. She had arranged to be at their new flat when they arrived, having acquired the key in advance for them.
Out of her meagre wages, Cat had bought them the basic foodstuffs and hoped it was enough to get them started until they could provide their own.
On the appointed day, Cat waited at the flat. Around three in the afternoon she heard them arrive in a taxi and flew down the steps to throw her arms around Ellie. Both broke down crying as they hugged each other and Michael stood watching them until Cat finally let go of Ellie and embraced him too.
‘By God, ye don’t know how good it is to see ye,’ Cat said, helping to lift some of the luggage, but she was breathless and seeing this, Michael took it from her.
‘Thanks, Michael,’ Cat said, ‘I’m a little out of practice for weight liftin’.’
Ellie clutched her beneath the elbow and they ran up the stairs like two children.
Michael was glad. It was the first time he had seen Ellie spring to life since Catherine had been killed. Perhaps now, he hoped, she would be more herself.
‘C’mon in and sit yerself down while I make us a nice cup of tea,’ Cat said, then turned to look at her sister.
‘My Ellie, ye’re awful thin.’
‘New York didn’t agree with me at all,’ Ellie said.
When she took off her hat, Cat gasped. Ellie’s hair was as white as snow. All her lovely auburn locks had disappeared.
Ellie saw Cat’s surprised expression.
‘Sure, I look awful don’t I?’
‘I don’t care if ye had two heads. I sure am pleased to see ye. Both of ye,’ she added for diplomacy.
Under the July Sun Page 32