Workhouse Angel

by Holly Green

  He went out and a couple of minutes later a woman brought a bucket and a jug of water and a cracked mug and set them down on the floor. She left and Paddy followed and Richard heard the door shut and bolted after him.

  Seventeen

  The Donovan family was on the move. Moira and Fergal’s tent and the bothy where the boys slept were dismantled and packed on the back of the cart. The campfire was extinguished, the cooking pots and other impedimenta stored in the caravan or hung on hooks on the outside. The horses were rounded up. The three young ones she had watched on her first day with the family were now accustomed to carrying a saddle and would walk, trot and canter to order and jump any obstacle that was put in their way. Leary pronounced them ready for market, along with two others that he had been schooling for some time. Two horses were hitched up to the caravan and another to the cart and the boys mounted up, leading spare horses on long reins. Leary mounted his stallion, and, as always, took the lead.

  ‘Where are we going?’ Angelina asked Dervla, as they climbed up onto the seat at the front of the caravan.

  ‘To Buttevant,’ was the answer. ‘The Cahirmee horse fair starts tomorrow. With any luck we should make some good sales.’

  As the cavalcade moved off, Angelina twisted round in her seat to look back at the abandoned campsite, and felt a stab of nostalgia. It was only a matter of weeks since she had found her way there but it had brought about such a change in her life that she almost felt she might have been born there.

  Soon, however, her attention was captured by the passing scenery. It was pleasant to rumble down the country lanes at the pace of the plodding horses and her elevated seat gave her a view over walls and hedges. The sun was hot but there was a gentle breeze and the trees along the road provided welcome shade. She settled into her seat with a contented sigh. How much better it was to live like this than any other life she had known!

  ‘What’s Buttevant like?’ she asked.

  ‘Oh, it’s a great place. It’s very old and there has been a fair there every year for more years than anyone can remember. The fair field of Cahirmee has been famous in song and story for generations. You wait till you see it.’

  It was evening when Dervla pointed ahead with her whip and said, ‘Look there, on the hill. That’s the ruins of Buttevant Castle.’

  Angelina craned her neck and saw through the trees a line of crumbling grey walls and a topless tower. ‘It’s not like a castle in the stories,’ she said, disappointed.

  ‘Oh, it was once, I expect,’ Dervla said. ‘But there have been many battles fought over it and it shows its scars.’

  As they approached the town, Angelina was amazed to see that the road ahead of them was clogged with a slow-moving line of carts and caravans and horses. They joined the end of it and soon she saw Leary riding ahead, calling out greetings to friends. The cavalcade moved slowly through a street lined with old stone houses and she gazed up at the ruined castle on one side and an ancient church on the other.

  Eventually they came out at the far end, and there ahead of them was a wide expanse of grass, encircled by a bend in the river and dominated by a large grassy mound. Already the space was dotted with caravans and tents and fires were being lit and horses tethered. Leary led them to a spot not far from the mound and the process of setting up a new camp was begun.

  While the women erected the shelters and unpacked the necessary equipment for cooking, Danny and Quinn were sent to fetch firewood and the men took the horses down to the river to drink. Angelina worked alongside Sorcha to prepare the meal and surprisingly quickly everything was in order and they were sitting around the fire to eat. Fergal had come in a couple of days back carrying four birds with handsome plumage, which had been hanging up in the caravan ever since. When Angelina asked what they were and where they came from, he had tapped the side of his nose and told her it was best not to ask questions like that. Now, plucked and gutted by Dervla’s expert hands, they roasted on a spit over the fire, giving off a delicious aroma.

  As soon as the meal was over, Sorcha and Quinn and Danny begged leave to go and find friends they had not seen since the last fair.

  ‘Maeve can come too,’ Danny said.

  ‘I don’t know.’ Dervla looked doubtful. ‘Come here a minute, Maeve.’

  Angelina was used to answering to her new name and went to her. Dervla tucked a lock of golden hair under the cap that she always wore now and murmured, ‘Your hair’s growing. I’ll have to cut it again. But at least with the sun you’re almost as brown as the rest of us, even though the walnut juice is fading. Well, you’ll pass, I suppose. But say as little as possible. Let Sorcha do the talking for you.’

  This injunction was hardly necessary. Over the last weeks Angelina had begun to learn the language that the travellers spoke amongst themselves, and she could understand a good deal if people spoke slowly but she was less confident about speaking it.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Sorcha said. ‘I’ll tell everyone she stammers and doesn’t like to talk.’

  Angelina understood the reason for Dervla’s caution, but she was convinced that no one could possibly be looking for her among these people, so she went off happily with the others. They seemed to know everyone in the great gathering of travellers and there was a warm welcome for them at one campfire after another and soon she found herself part of a motley crowd of boys and girls wandering among the caravans and the tethered horses, chattering and exchanging gossip, unfettered by any adult supervision.

  Sorcha introduced her, but what she said to explain her presence was lost on Angelina. The other children looked at her curiously, but were friendly enough, and she was happy just to be with the crowd and take in the sights and sounds of the encampment.

  Next day, the business of the fair started in earnest. All round the field, horses were being walked and trotted, their legs and teeth examined, bargains being struck. Leary seemed to have plenty of potential buyers and Sorcha told her that he was known ‘all over Ireland’ for being an honest dealer and having the best-quality animals.

  ‘This place is famous for the horses that are sold here,’ she said. ‘Leary told me that a very famous general, I think his name was Napoleon, rode a horse that was bought here. There’s a painting of him on it somewhere.’

  A bystander overheard her. ‘That’s right enough.Marengo, the horse’s name was. And what’s more, the Duke of Wellington had a horse that came from here, too.’

  They were watching a small group around two of Leary’s horses. One was a pretty piebald mare with a long white mane and tail, which would, he declared, make a perfect mount for any lady in the land. Some days earlier he had fitted her with a side-saddle and persuaded Angelina to ride her. She had been nervous at first, but the saddle horn gave her something to hang onto and the mare was, in truth, a very gentle and biddable creature and she soon grew more confident.

  Leary called her over. ‘Now, gentlemen, I can promise you that this little mare is an ideal mount for a lady, or even for a child, and to prove it I’ll put my adopted daughter up on her.’

  Before she had time to object Angelina was lifted into the saddle.

  ‘Now, just walk her around and let the gentlemen see how good she is,’ Leary instructed.

  Bursting with pride at being given such responsibility, she did as she was told, and even risked a short trot. The potential buyer was obviously impressed and the deal was closed with a handshake.

  As he lifted her down, Leary said, ‘That was well done. We’ll make a horsewoman of you yet.’

  ‘You said I was your adopted daughter,’ Angelina whispered.

  He grinned at her. ‘Well, I have to explain you somehow. Do you mind?’

  ‘Oh no. I don’t mind at all.’

  When they tired of watching the horses, Danny took her off to sample the delights of the rest of the fair. There were jugglers and fire-eaters and games where you had to throw little hoops over pegs or knock down skittles. There was a boxing ring, where a small m
an with gold rings in his ears was persuading challengers to take on a huge man covered in tattoos. There seemed to be no shortage of young men ready to try their luck, which surprised Angelina, since they all got knocked down very quickly. There were women selling toffee apples and sweetmeats. Leary had given them each a few pennies to spend as they chose, and Angelina used hers to buy toffee apples for herself and Danny. By evening, she was sticky and exhausted and full to the brim with new sights and experiences.

  The day was not over, however. Men and women were gathering around a central fire. Bottles and flagons were passed round, and then the music started. Soon Leary was called upon to play and after a couple of jigs he called Angelina to his side.

  She was not surprised. After that first evening in the inn at Meanus, they had made several visits, and each time she had been asked to sing and the boys had gone round with the hat. She understood that her singing voice had provided a useful addition to the family income and she was glad to feel that she was able to do something to earn her keep. Leary had been as good as his word and had taught her a number of songs, some of them in his own language, which she had had to learn parrot fashion, but whose melodies lingered in her mind long after the lesson had finished.

  Tonight was a little different. The audience was much larger and she felt a little shy, but as always once she started to sing her confidence grew. It was good to hear how the hubbub of voices quietened and people turned to see where the sound was coming from and drew closer to listen. That night Leary did not ask for tips when she had finished.

  Next day, Sorcha was sent into the town to buy some essential items and Angelina went with her. In several of the shop windows and pasted to walls there were brightly coloured playbills.

  ‘Oh look!’ Angelina said, tugging Sorcha’s arm.

  ‘What does it say?’

  It had come as a shock to Angelina to discover that neither Sorcha nor Danny nor Quinn could read. She was fairly sure Leary could, but had no reason to believe that Dervla or Moira had learned. Questions about when or where the younger members of the family might go to school were met with laughter.

  ‘It says, “FINNEGAN’S MUSIC HALL” and there is a list of people doing things, with their pictures.’

  ‘What sort of things?’

  ‘Well, there’s a comedian – that’s a man who makes jokes, isn’t it? And a man and a woman who sing duets, and a performing dog – I wonder what he does? – and some people who do acrobatic dancing, and an ill–ill– illusionist. I don’t know what that is.’

  ‘When is it happening?’

  ‘Tonight and tomorrow. In the theatre here. Do you think we could watch?’

  ‘I don’t know. I’ll ask Leary.’

  Back at the camp there was a brief discussion and then Leary agreed that they could all go that evening. They had to queue up to get in and Angelina was afraid that there might not be room, but they all packed in somehow.

  The room was hot and there was a cloud of tobacco smoke, which made it hard to see across to where a slightly grubby curtain hid the stage. For a few minutes Angelina regretted that she had ever noticed the playbill and wished that they were all back in the field sitting round the campfire.

  But then the curtain was rather shakily drawn aside and a new and magical world was revealed. There was a painted backcloth that was meant to look like a forest glade, and coloured footlights that bathed the stage in a warm glow. A large man with magnificent whiskers came on and told several jokes which she did not understand, but which made most of the audience laugh very loudly.

  Then the man and woman, whose pictures were on the bill, came on and sang a love duet. She liked the man’s voice but was not so impressed with the lady’s; but she had to admit that she looked very beautiful and wore a lovely dress.

  The performing dog was sweet and clever and the illusionist, which Dervla said was another word for a conjuror, performed tricks that made the audience gasp.

  But it was the dancers that she liked best. The girl could bend her body into amazing contortions and the man picked her up and threw her around as if she weighed nothing at all. They appeared twice, and the second time they danced more gracefully and wore the most beautiful costumes.

  On the way back to the caravan she walked as if in a dream, still half in and half out of a different world.

  Next afternoon, she was surprised to see Leary deep in conversation with the man with the whiskers. After a while he called her over.

  ‘This is Maeve, Mr Finnegan. Maeve, will you sing for the gentleman?’

  ‘Now?’

  ‘Does it make a difference what the time of day is?’

  ‘No. But you haven’t got your fiddle.’

  ‘You don’t need me to accompany you. Sing that song you first sang when you came to us: “The Last Rose of Summer”.’

  It seemed strange to burst into song in the middle of the field, while men and women were going about their everyday business, but she wanted to please Leary, so she sang. The man with the whiskers clasped his hands and raised his eyes heavenward, ‘The voice of an angel, no less!’

  ‘Isn’t it, though,’ Leary agreed. He smiled at her. ‘Thank you, lass. That will do for now. I just wanted Mr Finnegan to hear you, and he’ll be too busy with his own show to join us tonight.’

  Later that day she saw Leary in earnest discussion with Dervla. It looked like an argument, which was unusual, but whatever it was about she finally seemed to give way.

  The following day was the last day of the fair. Already some of the caravans were being loaded and tents packed away. There were fewer horses about, too. Leary had sold all those he intended to and was well pleased. Angelina joined Danny and Quinn as they made the rounds to say goodbye to their friends.

  Around midday, Mr Finnegan appeared again and sat with Leary in the shade of the bothy and after some discussion she saw them shake hands, as if he had agreed to buy one of Leary’s horses – except that he had not been anywhere near a horse, as far as she could see.

  Leary called her over and she assumed he wanted her to sing again. Instead, Finnegan took her by the hand and drew her close to where he was sitting.

  ‘Tell me, how would you like to be a grand lady?’

  ‘I don’t know what you mean.’ She tried to withdraw her hand but he held onto it.

  ‘How would you like to have your own carriage, and as many beautiful dresses as you wanted, and a serving girl to wait on you?’

  It struck Angelina that he was describing the sort of life people like her mother enjoyed in Liverpool. That was a life that for her meant obeying rules and going to lessons with disagreeable people and being punished for crimes she did not know she had committed.

  ‘Not particularly, thank you,’ she said.

  Finnegan drew back as if he had received a shock. ‘Not want beautiful dresses? Not want fine food and a fine house and people to wait on you?’

  ‘No, thank you.’

  ‘Maeve, you have to think of your future,’ Leary said quietly. ‘You can’t stay with us for ever.’

  ‘Why can’t I?’ It was her turn to be shocked.

  ‘Because you are born for something better than this. You have a wonderful talent. You should use it.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  Finnegan leaned towards her. ‘You came to see the show last night, didn’t you? How would you like to be up there on the stage, singing?’

  ‘Oh, yes, I’d like that.’

  ‘That’s what I’m offering you. Join us, be part of the company, and I’ll put you at the top of the bill. You will be a star! People will come from far and wide to hear you sing, and when you are a little older young men will line up outside the theatre just for the pleasure of taking you to dinner. I’ve known actresses and singers with your sort of talent to marry into the aristocracy and end up living in grand houses. What do you think of that?’

  ‘Would I have to go to lessons?’

  ‘Lessons? Why? Perhaps we might
find someone to teach you new songs, but that’s all.’

  ‘Would I have to do as I was told?’

  ‘As long as you were there to sing every evening you would be as free as a bird.’

  ‘I think I’d rather stay with Leary.’

  Leary stood up. ‘You can’t do that, Maeve. We can’t keep you with us all through the winter. You aren’t strong enough or tough enough for the life we lead, and you wouldn’t be able to pull your weight.’

  ‘That’s not fair!’ she cried. ‘I earn money for you, singing, and I help out. I fetch water and sew lavender bags. I’ll do whatever you want.’

  He shook his head. ‘I’m sorry. I’ve come to an agreement with Mr Finnegan. It’s a done deal. We can’t be responsible for you any longer. You’ll be much better off with him. Go along now and say goodbye to the others.’

  She reached out and grabbed his sleeve, but he detached her hand and turned away.

  Finnegan laid a hand on her shoulder. ‘Come along, lassie. There’s nothing to be afraid of. Say goodbye and we’ll be on our way.’

  Angelina looked round at the caravan. Dervla and Moira were watching and it was clear they knew what was happening. She went towards them, almost blinded by tears. Behind her, she heard the clink of coins changing hands and understood. Leary had sold her, with as little compunction as he parted with the horses on which he had lavished so much care and attention.

  Sorcha ran to her. ‘Is it true? You’re going to be on the stage? Oh, you are so lucky!’

  ‘Am I?’

  “Course you are! If I was offered the chance, wouldn’t I just jump at it?’

  ‘I want to stay here, with you.’

  Dervla put her arm round her. ‘Don’t cry. Leary is right. This will be better for you than staying with us. You’ll sleep in a proper bed, in a warm house and eat better food and wear fine clothes. So dry your eyes and be thankful you have a voice that will buy you all those things.’

  ‘But I won’t know anyone.’

  ‘You didn’t know us when you came to stay with us, did you? You’ll soon make friends. Now, here’s your convent dress and the few things you brought with you – not that you’ll be needing them – and I put in a lavender bag as a keepsake.’