Across a Summer Sea (40 page)
‘Well, I’ll be blessed! Isn’t that a great thing altogether and doesn’t it do your heart good to see it!’ Julia had exclaimed.
And yet two things disturbed Mary as she sat in the little kitchen in the cottage each night, after she’d returned from the house. She’d fallen into the habit of sitting by the open window once she had checked that the children were asleep - which they invariably were, worn out by the exertions of the day, much of which was spent in the open air, for harvesting would soon be upon them. The stillness of the summer night was something she derived much pleasure from. The sky was a vast expanse of indigo velvet scattered with stars that looked like diamonds. The rustling of the breeze in the trees was like a soft melody and the scents and sounds of the night came wafting in. It was all so very different from the stifling, stinking, noisy nights of the past three summers. But it was a time when worries also came to disturb her.
The talk of war was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore, although she tried hard to do so. The newspaper was full of it and she prayed hard every morning and night that it wouldn’t come and that Richard wouldn’t have to leave her. She realised that many young men would be lost and that it was selfish of her just to fret about the one man she loved, but she could not bear to think of him being wounded or worse. Far, far worse. If she were to dwell on that she would go mad. Oh, how she loved him. She told herself she was content with the way things were but at heart she knew she wasn’t. She had been married; she wasn’t a young girl in love for the first time; she wanted him. All of him. That was her other worry. They sat together every evening and talked and then would come the moment she loved and loathed at the same time: when he would take her in his arms and kiss and fondle her, which was all she would allow. But the longing and passion that rose and swamped her was becoming more unbearable with each day. She knew she had crossed the line the priest would consider unbreachable. She knew what she was doing was considered a sin but she prayed that God would forgive her. In her heart she believed that He would. He knew she truly loved Richard. It wasn’t just wanton lust. He would understand, providing she didn’t go beyond the point of no return. These last few nights she had had to tear herself away from him before all her resolve and willpower deserted her and she gave in to the overwhelming desire that was blotting out everything else. She had fled from the room, with just a strangled ‘goodnight’, and run all the way back to the cottage.
She knew it was taking its toll on him too. There were times when he was short-tempered and sharp, not with her, but with Julia and Sonny, and that made her feel worse. It wasn’t their fault, it was hers. There were long nights when she tossed and turned in her bed, when she ached for him and asked herself over and over again: was she just being a fool? Was it really worth denying herself? What if he had to go away to war and didn’t come back and she had denied both herself and him the ultimate expression of their love? Round and round in her mind the questions would circle and torment her until she fell into a restless sleep. In the morning everything would once again seem clearer; right and wrong would be white and black with no room for grey areas.
She stood up: it was time for bed. If she started to think like this she would get no sleep tonight either and she was so tired.
She had been asleep for some time before something woke her. It was warm and stuffy and both Katie and Lizzie had kicked off the single sheet that covered them, for they slept together in the double bed. She got up, opened the window wider, and bent to cover them again. Then she heard it. Muffled voices and the almost inaudible sound of cartwheels and hooves. Noise carried for long distances in the still night air. Who on earth was around at this time?
She pulled a cotton wrap over her nightdress and slipped on a pair of soft leather shoes that had become too scuffed and worn for day wear and which she used as slippers.
The warm air, perfumed with night-flowering blossoms, seemed heavy and oppressive. As she walked down the bohreen the sounds came closer. At the bottom of the pathway she stopped and drew back into the deep shadow of the wild fuchsia bushes, for the moon was bright. There
was
a cart and its wheels and the hooves of the horse that was pulling it were bound in sacking. With an intake of breath she recognised it. It was theirs. She also recognised the two men beside it. One was Richard and the other was Peter Casey! What were they doing? What was loaded on the cart hidden beneath sacks and why were they moving it in the dead of night with the wheels muffled? She didn’t move. Some instinct told her not to call out, not to move out onto the towpath.
was
a cart and its wheels and the hooves of the horse that was pulling it were bound in sacking. With an intake of breath she recognised it. It was theirs. She also recognised the two men beside it. One was Richard and the other was Peter Casey! What were they doing? What was loaded on the cart hidden beneath sacks and why were they moving it in the dead of night with the wheels muffled? She didn’t move. Some instinct told her not to call out, not to move out onto the towpath.
She watched them until they passed the side of the lock and disappeared and then she turned and slowly and silently walked back up the bohreen. The last time she’d seen Peter Casey he’d been in Liverpool and Julia had said she’d heard he was emigrating. But he’d been talking to Richard then. Should she confront Richard in the morning? If he had wanted you to know about this he would have told you, she thought. The whole episode had shaken and disturbed her.
It had troubled her so much that she had slept little and when she went up to the house early that morning she looked and felt tired and a little depressed.
‘Mary, you look worn out. Did you not sleep? It was very warm although the walls are so thick in this place that it stays cool,’ Julia commented.
‘I didn’t get much sleep but it wasn’t just the heat.’ She decided to confide in Julia. ‘I was woken by noises.’
‘Noises? And what kind of noises would they be?’
Bridie was raking out the kitchen fire and Mary motioned the older woman towards the open back door.
‘I got up and I saw them,’ she whispered.
‘Who?’
‘Peter Casey and Richard and they had the cart. They were coming along the towpath from the direction of town. They had something on the cart and they’d put sacking around the wheels and the horse’s hooves to deaden the sound.’
‘Merciful Mother of God! Are you
sure
, Mary, that it was them?’
sure
, Mary, that it was them?’
‘I’m certain. I don’t know what to do. Should I tell him?’
‘NO!’ Julia hissed fiercely.
Mary was startled by her vehemence. ‘Why not?’
‘Tell no one. Not even Sonny or the young one in there. Forget about it, Mary. You saw
nothing
!
Nothing
at all! There are things that it’s best to leave alone. They don’t concern you - or us. Believe me, it’s best not to know and he won’t thank you to mention it. He’ll be angry and annoyed that you were snooping.’
nothing
!
Nothing
at all! There are things that it’s best to leave alone. They don’t concern you - or us. Believe me, it’s best not to know and he won’t thank you to mention it. He’ll be angry and annoyed that you were snooping.’
‘I wasn’t snooping! Julia, what’s going on? Is it something to do with why he says he can’t marry me? If it is don’t you think I have a right to know?’
‘Mary, forget it! Let sleeping dogs lie. The last thing he wants is to put you or any of us in danger.’
‘In danger? I don’t understand?’
‘One day you will, but not now, Mary. For the love of God,
forget it
!’
forget it
!’
She moved away, back towards Bridie and the range, leaving Mary staring at her in confusion.
There wasn’t time even to mention it to Richard for half an hour later he came into the kitchen with a letter in his hand, looking distracted.
‘Mary, I’ve to go to Dublin at once and I don’t know how long I’ll be away. Could you put some things into a bag for me, please? Julia, could you put me up something to eat? If I hurry I might catch the milk train, though God knows it will take me hours on that, it’s so slow!’
‘Is there anything wrong?’ Mary asked, still thinking about the events of the night. Did this have something to do with Peter Casey too?
‘Don’t worry, I’ll be back as soon as I possibly can. A day or two at the most.’
Julia nodded and pursed her lips. When had that letter come? Last night? It was too early for the day’s post, which didn’t arrive until lunchtime. Had it been brought by hand this morning? ‘Is it the same as last time?’ she asked.
He nodded curtly.
‘Then I’ll pack up some ham and soda bread and you make sure you eat when you’re above in Dublin,’ she said with a scolding note in her voice.
‘I’ll have to find Sonny and get him to saddle up Juno. The trap is too slow. He and Tommy can come in in the trap later to collect Juno, I’ll leave her in the care of Jim Hartigan at the station,’ he informed them and then he was gone, striding out into the yard to look for Sonny.
‘What’s the matter?’ Mary demanded of Julia.
‘Urgent business up there, to do with the estate. It happens sometimes. It’s nothing for you to worry about. Now, you’d better go and pack for him. He has twenty minutes to catch the milk train but sure to God he’ll have a brasting headache by the time he gets there the way they roll those milk churns around. It sounds like the end of the world and the Devil coming to collect his own, so it does!’
To Mary’s bewilderment and the dismay and disappointment of Lizzie, he left ten minutes later after a flurry of frantic activity. He had kissed Mary quickly but passionately to the astonishment of all three children and Bridie, who stared with open mouth and wide dark eyes at such a display of affection never before witnessed in this house.
‘Mam, why did Mr O’Neill kiss you like that?’ Katie voiced their collective thoughts.
‘Never you mind, miss! Have you seen the three little brass monkeys in the study?’ Julia said sharply.
Katie wondered what the little ornaments had to do with this but simply nodded.
‘They represent “See no evil, hear no evil and speak no evil”. You take note of that and do likewise, and the same goes for you too, Bridie!’
Katie was still confused but said nothing.
Julia shook her head and shot Mary a warning glance. ‘Little jugs have big ears! Sometimes I do think that man has no sense!’
Mary agreed and decided the best thing to do was set them all to work, herself included. But as the hours passed she began to worry more and more about what was going on. If anything terrible happened to Richard, what would she do? What would happen to the children? She couldn’t bear to contemplate the fact that once more she’d be left alone to provide for them. She could hardly bear to face the thought of life without Richard. She couldn’t just wait here, saying nothing, asking nothing. She had to do something. Ask someone.
Tommy and Sonny had returned later that morning with his horse tied to the back of the trap. It was one of Tommy’s dearest wishes to be able to ride the big chestnut hunter but so far all hints had been ignored. He hoped one day to have a horse of his own. One just like Juno. His mam had so far managed to delay the purchase of a horse for herself and the riding lessons she so dreaded, but he wished she would relent. He was certain Mr O’Neill would let him learn on any old slowcoach of a horse he bought for Mam.
With her work finished, Mary got washed and changed into a light sprigged muslin dress. She put on her wide-brimmed straw hat with the pale blue ribbons and asked Tommy to drive herself and the two girls into town. Sonny didn’t often accompany them now. There was no need. She spoke only to the shopkeepers she dealt with and who knew her and treated her deferentially but without probing questions. Katie just smiled at them and they were aware of Lizzie’s afflictions.
‘Mary, will you pick up some butter muslin for me from Dolan’s? What I have is little better than useless for straining anything, it has so many holes in it,’ Julia called.
‘I will so,’ Mary called back from the recesses of the dining room where she was tying the ribbons of her hat under her chin.
She was descending the steps into the yard when a man came running in through the gate. It was Peter Casey and he was red-faced and sweating.
‘Where’s Himself ?’ he demanded.
‘He’s not here.’
‘Where’s he gone? For the love of God, woman, it’s
important
!’
important
!’
A dart of fear went through her. ‘He’s gone to Dublin. He went early this morning on the milk train and I don’t know when he’ll be back. A day or two, he said. That’s all I know.’
He seemed relieved and wiped his damp brow with the sleeve of his shirt. ‘Good. When he gets back, tell him . . . well, tell him I’ve gone.’
‘Gone where?’
‘To America, but I’ll keep in touch. He knows how.’ He turned away.
‘Wait!’
He turned back.
‘What is going on? I . . . I saw you both last night, on the towpath,’ she blurted out.
His eyes narrowed. ‘It would have been better if you hadn’t! Forget it! If anyone asks, it never happened!’
‘Why? Why can’t you tell me what’s wrong? Is Richard in any trouble?’
‘It’s none of your business!’
‘It
is
my business if anything happens to him!’ She reached out and caught his arm tightly. ‘I . . . care about him!’
is
my business if anything happens to him!’ She reached out and caught his arm tightly. ‘I . . . care about him!’
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