Across a Summer Sea (17 page)
Chapter Eleven
M
OLLY WAS SURPRISED AND relieved to see her. ‘Mary, where have ye been and would ye look at the state of ye! Aren’t ye soaked to the skin!’look at the state of ye! Aren’t ye soaked to the skin!’
OLLY WAS SURPRISED AND relieved to see her. ‘Mary, where have ye been and would ye look at the state of ye! Aren’t ye soaked to the skin!’look at the state of ye! Aren’t ye soaked to the skin!’
‘I know. But it wasn’t raining when I went out and I walked further than I intended to. I needed time to think.’ She glanced quickly at Davy who was once more sitting in the chair reading his newspaper. He didn’t look up and she breathed a little easier.
‘Get those wet things off now or you’ll catch pneumonia. Here, I’ve just wet the tea and I’ll put a drop of whiskey in it to ward off the cold,’ Rita said.
‘Thanks, but I think I’ve had enough of spirits. Just the tea will do. I’ll get changed and then . . . well, I’ve something to tell you.’
The two women looked at each other mystified as Mary went to get changed. Molly took her sodden shawl and draped it over a chair which she set before the fire.
‘Do you have to have the place looking like a laundry?’ Davy snapped irritably.
‘And how else am I to get things dry?’ Molly snapped back. He was in a bad humour, no doubt about it,
and
he’d been drinking.
and
he’d been drinking.
Rita raised her eyes to the ceiling but said nothing.
When Mary was changed and had taken the mug of tea and sat down Molly looked at her with curiosity.
‘Well, and what is it ye’ve to tell me?’
‘I’m going to apply for a job. A different job.’
‘Are ye not happy with the one ye have?’
‘Oh, it’s been great but this one sounds so much better. The only thing is it’s not in Dublin.’
‘Where is it then?’ Rita asked.
‘Tullamore. That’s King’s County.’
‘Begod, isn’t that a desperate way away from here!’ Molly was clearly taken aback.
‘Exactly how far away is it?’
‘Way down the country, in the midlands. Sure, in the name of God why do you want to move that far away?’
‘I told you it’s a much better job. It’s as a housekeeper at a place called Ballycowan Castle.’
‘A
castle
! Holy Mother of God, what for do ye want a job in a place like that? Isn’t it a bit too grand for the likes of us?’ Molly exclaimed.
castle
! Holy Mother of God, what for do ye want a job in a place like that? Isn’t it a bit too grand for the likes of us?’ Molly exclaimed.
‘What do you know about housekeeping in a castle?’ Rita demanded. ‘Won’t they have a rake of servants already?’
‘Probably, but I can try for it. I’ve kept my own house, it’s probably just the same only, well, a bit bigger.’
‘A
bit
bigger!’ Davy scoffed. She was mad if she thought she’d get a job like that! But perhaps it was all lies? Just the excuse to leave?
bit
bigger!’ Davy scoffed. She was mad if she thought she’d get a job like that! But perhaps it was all lies? Just the excuse to leave?
‘I don’t know how big it is. It might not be very big at all. It might just be a large house.’
‘And pigs might fly!’ Davy muttered, returning to his paper.
‘Where did ye see this job? Was it advertised or did someone tell ye about it?’ Molly demanded.
‘I saw it advertised in a shop window.’
‘Fine sort of a castle it must be to be advertising in a shop window. Why wouldn’t they advertise in a newspaper? I never heard of the gentry doing the like of that.’
‘I don’t know but I intend to find out. I’ll go tomorrow morning. Can I get a train?’
‘I would think ye could get a train from Kingsbridge Station but ye’d better ask. Are ye sure it’s the right thing, Mary? Ye never said ye were unhappy here.’ Molly sounded aggrieved, and Mary hastened to reassure her.
‘Oh, I’m not! Truly I’m not. It’s just that I’d like a better job and it would be nice for the children to live in the country. Plenty of room to run around and play, fresh air and fresh food. You’d like to live in the country, wouldn’t you, Katie?’
Katie didn’t reply, she just stared at her mother. She had her cousins and all their friends to play with here and she didn’t want to have to move again.
‘Of course I won’t be taking you until I know I’ve got it and it’s all settled,’ Mary said confidently, more confidently than she felt.
Molly shook her head. ‘Don’t ye be getting up your hopes now. It might turn out to be a wild goose chase.’
‘I know, but I feel as though I’ve got to try.’
‘Do you have the train fare? I’ll lend you something if you need it,’ Rita offered, although she was disappointed that Mary had made this decision without even discussing it with her.
‘I might need a couple of shillings, Rita, thanks.’
‘Well, I’ll go and see Mr Brannigan upstairs. He has a brother who works on the railways, he might be of some help,’ Molly offered.
Mary thanked her and began to help Rita to set the table and prepare the meal. Oh, she hoped her aunt and cousin did not mind too much. They were still being so generous, and Mary felt that she was throwing it back in their faces. But she had no choice; nor could she ever explain it to them.
They learned that Mary could get the Galway train at Kingsbridge Station, which stopped at Tullamore, but it was a long journey and she would need to set off early. There was also no guarantee that she would get there and back in one day. Molly, in yet another display of generosity, agreed to lend her enough money for lodgings for the night should she need them.
It was dark and cold and very windy when she left early next morning. She wore her best clothes and the borrowed hat and had packed a few things in a small grip bag in case she needed them. Molly had cut her some sandwiches and a couple of slices of barmbrack to ‘keep her going’ on the long journey.
She walked part of the way to the station and managed to get a ride on a cart for the rest of it. She was very thankful for she would have been worn out before she’d even started, she thought as she made her way into the cavernous station’s dimly lit and rather gloomy interior.
She purchased her ticket and learned from the ticket-master that the journey would take approximately four hours, providing there were no ‘unforeseen circumstances’ to delay them. That meant it would be late morning before she even got to Tullamore and then she had no idea of how far Ballycowan Castle was from the town or how she would get there.
‘You may be in luck. There may well be an outside car that goes there,’ the man answered her query helpfully.
She made her way to the platform and found a seat in a third-class carriage, which was already occupied by two women, dressed in the less fashionable clothes of country women. They smiled and introduced themselves so readily that Mary felt sure the journey would not be without some diversion. At least she could go and see what the place was like. She hoped she would be successful, and if not . . . well, she wouldn’t think about that until she had to.
She learned a great deal on the journey from the two women and from two farmers who had joined them in the carriage as they all shared the food they had brought with them. Ballycowan Castle was about three miles from the small town of Tullamore and although there was no outside car she had been assured that she would get a lift from someone if she started to walk the road out there. She also learned that it was not a ‘grand’ house in the sense that it could boast a ‘rake’ of servants; she also gathered from the tone of their voices and their knowing glances that Mr Richard O’Neill was neither very wealthy nor well liked, although they would not be drawn any further on the subject. If she needed lodgings she could find them in any one of the taverns in town: most could provide a decent bed and a good breakfast for a shilling or two.
She thanked them all and wished them well as she parted company with them outside the small station. She walked up the hill and then turned right. This was the quickest way, they had assured her, out past Charleville Castle and estate. It was cold but at least it was bright, she thought, looking around at the hedgerows and the bare branches of the trees that flanked the road. She hoped it wouldn’t be too long before someone stopped and offered her a lift.
She had almost reached the huge stone gates of Charleville Castle, which could just be glimpsed between the trees to her right, when a cart pulled to a halt beside her.
‘Where are ye off to, girl?’ a middle-aged farmer asked, leaning over the side of the cart while the horse snatched at coarse tufts of grass at the roadside.
‘Ballycowan Castle and I’d be very grateful of a ride, no matter how short.’
‘I’m going as far as Mucklagh. It’s only a small piece after that.’
‘Thank you.’ She smiled and took his hand to pull herself up.
‘What has ye out there? I’ve not seen ye before.’
‘I’ve come from Dublin on the train this morning. I’m hoping to get work there. As a housekeeper.’
He looked at her speculatively but didn’t comment; he just nodded and flapped the reins and the horse reluctantly abandoned its foraging and moved off.
Since he continued to be silent (which she found surprising), she concentrated on admiring the scenery. Even though it was winter it looked pretty. Hedgerows still bounded the road which was getting increasingly narrow. Rolling green and brown fields ran for as far as the eye could see and away in the distance she could see the dark outline of a range of mountains. They passed farmhouses and cottages and a few large houses, reached by long driveways. Yes, it would be ideal for the children, she thought, away from the dirt and smoke and crowded streets of Dublin. It was so quiet and peaceful here, the only sounds the clopping of the horses’ hooves and the raucous cries of the rooks circling high above the treetops.
‘Well, I’ll let ye down here. I’m after taking the next turning,’ her driver announced, pulling on the reins and bringing the cart to a standstill.
‘Thank you. It was very kind of you to bring me so far,’ she said, preparing to climb down.
‘Keep walking down that laneway until you get to the canal. It’s the twenty-ninth lock. Walk down the towpath and ye can’t miss it. A great pile of rocks it is with five great chimneys, although it took a bit of a battering from Cromwell and his cannon balls a couple of hundred years ago.’
‘Thank you again. I’m very grateful.’ She waved as he drew away and then turned and began to walk down the narrow lane where the hedgerows were so tall that it was impossible to see the fields beyond.
She began to feel a little apprehensive. Could she convince this Mr O’Neill that she was capable of running the household? Just how big a place was it? How many other servants were there?
After ten minutes she rounded a bend in the lane and the narrow humpbacked bridge over the Grand Canal came into view. There were two cottages clustered on its banks, one of which she realised must belong to the lock-keeper. She wondered whether she should knock and ask if she had the right place but decided against it. The narrow towpath was flanked by fields on the right-hand side and the waters of the canal on the left. A little further along was what looked like a small farmhouse and then she stopped and stared. Rising high into the sky from the banks of towering fir trees were the sandstone walls of Ballycowan Castle, its five tall chimneys making it look even more imposing. It
was
a castle, if not a very big one. Its upper storey was crenellated, its walls looked to be at least two feet thick and there appeared to be five floors. Small leaded panes were set into the stone mullioned windows. The glass sparkled in the weak winter sunlight.
was
a castle, if not a very big one. Its upper storey was crenellated, its walls looked to be at least two feet thick and there appeared to be five floors. Small leaded panes were set into the stone mullioned windows. The glass sparkled in the weak winter sunlight.
Oh, it
was
a grand place. How on earth would she cope? ‘Well, standing here just gaping is no use,’ she told herself firmly and began to make her way along the towpath.
was
a grand place. How on earth would she cope? ‘Well, standing here just gaping is no use,’ she told herself firmly and began to make her way along the towpath.
The closer she drew the bigger it looked and she felt her heart sink. There was a cottage at the large stone gateway and a black and white collie came out to investigate the stranger.
Mary bent and patted it and then looked towards the cottage. She supposed she’d better knock here first. Maybe it was some sort of gatehouse.
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