“A boy, Eoin Francis. Not yet official. He hasn’t been baptized. I’d like to have him baptized in the small stone church where Francis and I were married,” Kate watched Mary’s face as she mentioned Francis’ name.
“What happened, Kate? Why did Francis leave, especially when you were pregnant?”
“He didn’t tell you?”
“He told us he was leaving and would look for a job in England.”
Jumping on this bit of information, her mind ran on. He is in England! Should I ask for his address? Why? He must not want me to write him.
“He refused to discuss it further. It is most unlike Francis to behave in this manner, especially now that he has a wife and child. I cannot understand his actions. I know the farm doesn’t pay much. On hearing Francis was leaving, Ned offered to sign the farm over to Francis, and Ned would work for him. Francis thanked him, but refused to enter into that arrangement. It will be Francis’ farm after we are gone, Ned argued, so why not take it now and run it in whatever manner he wished? But Francis wouldn’t hear of it. I’d never seen him as happy as when he told us he had met you and wanted to marry you. How then could he have done this?” Mary shook her head in disbelief and waved her hands in a gesture of despair.
“It wasn’t Francis’ fault. It was mine.”
“What could you have done, child, to create this situation?” Mary added, dismissing the idea.
“Something I’m ashamed of. I’ve been holding onto this secret for so long without telling a soul, other than my cousin Sheila who is now in England.”
“Let me make us a cup of tea. Dinner won’t be ready for another hour.”
“I may not be invited to dinner, or permitted to visit the farm after what I’m about to tell you.”
Over several cups of tea, Kate told Mary the whole story. When she had finished, she awaited Mary’s verdict.
“He loved you, Kate. Knowing that, did you not believe he would have accepted the child as his own?”
“Now, yes. Back then, no! I had thought another man loved me, but when he found me pregnant with his child, he became a whole different person. I wasn’t ready to trust again.”
Ned entered the house. “So good to see you again, Kate, and I hope we’ll see a lot more of you and the lad.”
“I’ll have dinner on the table in no time at all.” Rising, Mary readied the meal for serving as Kate put the plates and cutlery on the table. “After dinner, Kate and I will make a visit to see Father Brendan to arrange Eoin’s baptism.”
On the way to the church, Mary wished to know who the godparents would be. Kate had her cousin in mind as godmother in absentia. No godfather had been picked, as yet. On hearing this, Mary suggested Ned be considered.
“I know he’s old for such a position, but he would be honored to be asked, and we both will love and care for the child as though he were our own flesh and blood.”
“Then it’s settled. I will ask Ned to be godfather, and you, Mary, and my cousin as godmothers.”
A few hours later, as they prepared to leave, Mary and Ned expressed the hope that Kate and Eoin would spend Christmas with them. Mary wrapped ham, fresh vegetables, homemade bread, eggs, and apple pie into a box for Kate to take home with her. Ned drove them to the bus stop and put the carriage and box onto the bus. When Kate arrived in the city and alighted from the bus, she put the box in the carriage and carried Eoin to the next bus stop and then to the lane. She would return in a fortnight to have Eoin baptized.
“Well, Eoin, love, we now know, you are fortunate to have two wonderful people as family.”
CHAPTER 5
Walking into church with Ned and Mary to have her son baptized, Kate suddenly became overwhelmed with a sense of guilt and failure. Last spring, she and Francis, deliriously happy, had entered this church to make their wedding promises to each other before God and the community. She had ruined everything! Francis, apparently, felt he had to leave the country of his birth to distance himself from her. She did not believe he could ever again love her, but she needed to know if he could forgive her. Mary said Francis would have accepted Eoin as his son. She unwittingly drove Francis away and deprived Eoin of a father. She wondered if Francis and Eoin would get to know each other or even meet one another. Had she made a mistake in having him baptized in this church of their beautiful memories?
With tears in her eyes, Kate handed the child to Mary and headed downstairs to the ladies room. After composing herself, she returned. Although she had not received permission from Francis to do so, the child was baptized Eoin Francis Egan, and the record would show Francis Egan as the child’s father.
Arriving home shortly after seven o’clock in the evening on the day Eoin was baptized, Kate, emotionally drained from the day’s ordeal, put her son in the crib and took off her coat. A noise outside her door was followed by a soft knock. Kate opened it slowly and saw the cheerful faces of her neighbors.
“Well, has he been duly baptized?” Monica smiled.
“We’ve come with something a bit stronger than water!” Tara said, not waiting for Kate to answer Monica’s question as they walked in, followed by other neighboring women and their husbands carrying platters of sandwiches, cake, and an assortment of bottles. Soon Jameson’s, soda water, wine, Guinness, and lemonade were opened and poured by the men and passed around. Each woman put several shillings into the folds of the baby’s blanket, as was the custom.
“We’ve been waiting and watching for your return,” Lil answered the surprised look on Kate’s face.
“To Eoin: may you have good health and a long life.” Tara’s husband John toasted. All drank.
“Sláinte” was spoken in unison.
When the party was in full swing, a bearded old man walked in the partly opened door carrying a bottle of brandy. A silence fell on the room like a hammer. Kathleen’s husband spoke into the silence, “Can I pour you some Jameson’s?”
“Aye, indeed,” the old man answered with a nod. He drank the Jameson’s and held out his glass again. When his glass was refilled, the old man walked towards the crib. “To the child,” he stated as he raised his glass. All glasses were again raised in a toast, after which the old man held the glass over the child for several moments as his lips moved but no sound was heard. Then he drank, emptying the glass and turned to leave. Kate followed him to the door and thanked him for coming and offering a blessing upon the child, although she had no idea who he was or what he had said. Turning to her, as he placed his hand on the doorknob, he asked, “Are you Francis’ wife?”
“Yes. I have seen you on two or three occasions in the lane, so I gather you know Francis.”
“Aye, indeed, very well. Is it to England he’s gone?”
“Yes.”
He seemed to reflect on some matter for a moment or two, then spoke.
“That’s a fine young lad you’ve got. He’s the image of yourself.”
“So I’ve been told.”
As he walked out the door, he turned and added with a vague smile and a twinkle in his eye, “No red hair.”
“No, no red hair,” she smiled back at him.
“Thank you,” he added from the lane, and then he was gone.
No red hair! For a second or two Kate wondered if the old man possessed information none of the other guests had. Kate then scolded herself for such thinking. Don’t get paranoid about events that have happened. Kate wondered why she was being thanked. It could not have been for an invitation to come tonight for none were extended. The door was open to all who wished to enter. For some unknown reason she felt happy that this man with the unruly beard and deep all-knowing eyes had made an appearance. She would not discuss their brief exchange of words with the women. Although she did not understand why he had come or why he had said what he did, she knew it was meant for her alone.
“That’s Old Man O’Toole,” Lil whispered to Kate although he was well on his way to his own cottage by that time.
“What possessed that old cod
ger to come?” one of the men asked in surprise.
“He never shows up at any event,” his wife added.
Soon the men, having toasted the child, left the women to linger while they headed for the local pub.
“Old O left his unopened bottle of brandy here,” Siobhan said in merriment.
“Well he might. I hear that old recluse is loaded with money.”
“I didn’t see him part with any of it to the child,” Tara laughed.
“That’s all a rumor. Why would he be living in the lane if he had money?” Monica wanted to know.
“He’s living here, no doubt, because he doesn’t want to spend any of it.” Kathleen laughed.
“He must be sixty if he’s a day. He never married. He had one brother who, for all any of us know, may be dead and gone. None have ever visited him, so why would he be holding onto it if he had money?” Monica questioned the group.
“That’s what misers do. They hold onto every penny they’ve got,” Siobhan explained.
“That doesn’t make sense, and he with no family to leave it to,” Monica said shaking her head, “and he on his last lap around.”
“Well, if he has any money, he certainly spends as little as possible,” Lil commented.
“He brought brandy here tonight,” Kate smiled.
“That he did. Now, that was a big surprise,” Tara said.
“The biggest surprise is that he showed up at all,” Peg added to the amusement of all.
“Why did he, and he a recluse, wander in here tonight?” Monica wondered.
“There’s no knowing what people will do,” Peg added, and the discussion on Mr. O’Toole came to an end as the conversation took a new direction.
Kate and Eoin were ready early on the morning of Christmas Eve to make the trip to the farm. It was the first time Kate had felt sorrow instead of joy at Christmastime. She thought of her mother, Kieran and family, Rory and his wife, Gwen, her extended family of uncles, aunts, and cousins sitting down for dinner on Christmas Day, laughing, eating, and talking among much merriment. They would probably mention her briefly and then dismiss her absence from them. She had sent her mother a Christmas card. A handwritten message inviting her home for Christmas had arrived from her mother who was blissfully unaware that she had a grandson.
Kate never did have a rapport with her mother. At times she felt her mother did not really like her. Was that her imagination? Had her mother been severe with her for her own sake? After her father died, she felt like a stranger in her mother’s house, so much so that she was happy when the time came to return to boarding school.
As Kate straightened the wedding quilt on the bed, made with loving hands by Mary and her neighbors, her mind wandered to a happier time when she and Francis snuggled together under its warmth. What had Francis planned for this his first Christmas away from home! She knew he would miss his cottage, his uncle and aunt and the farm. How could he not? She felt guilt in knowing that she was the reason he felt he had to leave Dublin. Had his harsh feeling towards her, rightly deserved, subsided?
Eoin, all bundled up for outdoors, became restless.
“It’s all right, love, we’re leaving.”
As she picked up the child and placed him in the pram, she spoke to him, “Francis would love you if only he could see you. You too, Eoin, must endure the results of my ‘unsavory past’. I pray that, in the years to come, when you learn all the details, you won’t turn against me.”
As Kate wheeled the pram towards the door, she saw a piece of mail come into the mail slot. As she picked it up she told the child, “This will only take a moment, Eoin.” It looked like a Christmas card, and it had an English postmark. As she opened the envelope she found it did indeed contain a Christmas card, a money order, and a brief message, “Thought you could use some money over the Christmas holidays. Francis.” Although she certainly had need of the money, she had an even greater need to know if he was happy at this joyful time of year. What position had he been able to secure? What kind of living accommodations did he have? Was he content living in London? She knew he must miss Ned and Mary. Did he miss her? He had to have thought of her in order to send the card and money order. With a lighter step and a feeling close to joy, Kate left the cottage that morning to spend Christmas at the farm. She could hardly wait to tell Mary and Ned of her surprise Christmas greetings from Francis. The card alone was the best Christmas gift she could have received and the money was an added bonus.
At the farm, Kate found the kind and gentle Ned looking worn by the end of the day. Since Mary delighted in playing with Eoin, Kate asked Ned, as he walked to the cow shed that evening, to instruct her in milking the cows. Under his patient guidance, Kate mastered the milking with only one mishap. While concentrating on the task at hand, she received an unexpected whack on the back of her neck with the cow’s tail which caused her to fall forward, toppling the pail and spilling the milk. Fortunately, since there was as yet little in the pail, only a very small amount of milk was spilt.
Christmas at the farm was very pleasant; Kate soon felt quite at home, and found that she hardly thought of her family. To have Francis beside her at the Christmas meal, their first Christmas together, would have been sheer delight. She had held out hope, a false hope, she now realized, that he would return to the farm for Christmas.
Mary, happy to hear Kate had received a Christmas card and money from Francis, exclaimed, “I knew that dear boy would come to his senses.” Ned put his hand on Mary’s in agreement as they sat at the kitchen table.
“He just needed a bit of time,” Ned added.
Kate loved how this couple, who, although greatly saddened by the separation, a separation that caused Francis to leave the country, could love both Francis and her, passing judgment on neither.
Eoin and Kate returned home the day after St. Stephen Day’s, Boxing Day in England.
I’m so lonesome for the land, the farm, Mary and Ned, and especially Kate, Francis thought as he walked to his job in a bookstore in London.
The work was interesting and he was among cordial people, both co-workers and customers, but his salary was pitifully small. He had hoped to have money enough saved to send some at Christmastime to Mary and Ned, and to Kate. His salary, however, covered little more than his rent, meals eaten out, since the flat did not have cooking facilities, and other minor expenses. He had bought a suit and new shoes as his position required, and it almost depleted the money he had on arriving in London.
As he ate greasy fish and chips, the most affordable meal available, he longed to be back on the farm where the food was fresh and expertly cooked.
In his dreams, he lay in bed with Kate in the cottage on their wedding night, a night different from previous nights when he was apprehensive. How did it all happen? Would it last? Would she stay? Why would Kate want to share a lifestyle so different from what she was accustomed to? Their wedding night banished all doubts that he had. That night they gave themselves to each other in joyful abandonment, laughter, and happiness greater than either of them had ever known.
Sadly, he lamented, he did not know the time of his visitation. In discovering Kate carried another man’s child, a child she presented as his, the news had crushed him so badly he lost faith in her, believing the only reason she consented to marry him was because of her unborn child. It was a disappointment too great for him to bear; their marriage, their love, had no truth to it.
He would have accepted her child. All parts of her were precious to him. She had not loved him enough to confide in him. She chose deception as the cornerstone on which to build their married life, and so it collapsed.
Francis, admittedly, was ashamed of his part in its destruction. In his pain, he acted immaturely. He had not considered it from Kate’s perspective. The baby’s father obviously rejected her when she told him she was pregnant, Francis now realized. How dreadful she must have felt! Strangely enough, that aspect of this whole affair hadn’t dawned on him until this moment, as h
e walked from the underground to work.
Yet, she chose him that evening, as he ate a sandwich, in the pub. She sat on the bar stool next to him. He smiled at her, and nodded in greeting.
“Does your wife not feed you?” she asked in jest.
“No wife.”
“Well, you’re fortunate in that this pub serves good grub.” He smiled at her statement but did not trust himself to reply. He had not had much experience with women. In fact, he had to sadly admit he knew more about horses and farm animals than he did about women. He wondered, with so many more prosperous looking men in the pub, why did she choose him to converse with? Perhaps she awaited a boyfriend who had been delayed. If this was the situation, he had hoped the delay would be prolonged. He enjoyed her presence, even though he found himself a bit tongue-tied and was glad when silence did not force her to leave. Although he was not drinking anything stronger than tea when she arrived on the scene, he had asked her if she would like a drink. Tea would be nice, she had said. Time passed, and nobody showed up to claim this most attractive creature, and so he suggested they have some wine and sit in one of the nearby booths. She agreed. Time hastened by. It was past the hour he usually retired for the night but this vision sitting across from him seemed immune to the lateness of the hour. She had said she was a nurse. Nurses worked irregular hours attending to patients.
She had missed the bus back to her flat. Only later he would realize this was part of her plan. They both had too much to drink.
Aunt Mary promised him that if Kate got in touch with her and Ned, they would help Kate in every way possible. Mary and Ned saw Kate as the daughter they never had. Poor Mary was tired of waiting for him to find a bride. Kate, too, was very fond of them, and it was Francis’ hope that she would contact his aunt and uncle.
People living in the lane would show much kindness to Kate, Francis believed. Kate need not tell them all the details of their brief life together. She was lawfully married. That would make life easier for her and the child, and she had the cottage. When she told the lane people that he had left the country, they would sympathize with her for all of them had a family member or someone close to them who was forced to leave Ireland for employment. This consoled Francis.
The Lane Page 6