Mother’s Only Child (48 page)

Maria knew it wasn’t just lack of appreciation, but something else, and she thought Martha should take Deirdre to the doctor’s if she didn’t pick up after the New Year. Her own girls, she had to admit, were nearly as bad. Both of them were whiny and hard to please too.

Sally and Theresa’s bad humour was all explained the next morning when Maria went to rouse them and found them both sweating profusely and covered in spots.

Maria asked Tony to fetch the doctor. ‘Where?’ Tony said. ‘He’ll hardly be at the surgery on Boxing Day.’

‘No,’ Maria agreed. ‘But he just lives on Grange Road, only a step away for there was a note of his address and phone number in the surgery if you needed him out of hours,’ Martha said. ‘And I wrote it on an old envelope and it’s behind the clock on the mantelpiece.’

‘Measles,’ Dr Linden declared. ‘No surprise. There was a proper epidemic at the school just before the end of term. Probably go around the house.’

‘I’ve had it,’ Martha said, ‘and so have Patsy and the boys. Deirdre hasn’t, though, and then there is Jack too.’

‘What about the baby, Doctor?’ Maria asked.

‘He will be protected by your antibodies until he is about six months old,’ the doctor said. ‘Have you had the measles yourself?’

‘I don’t know,’ Maria said. ‘I can’t remember having them.’

‘No, I don’t think you ever did,’ Sean said.

‘Well, if you haven’t, it is highly unlikely that you will escape this time,’ the doctor told her cheerfully.

Deirdre suddenly wished she’d catch the measles too. The joy had gone out of the concert for her now. She would have given it all up, even the coveted solo spot, to be able to stay at home, which was the only place now where she felt safe.

The concert was over and Deirdre had been so proud of her own performance. It was obvious others had been too, for her hand was pumped up and down and she was hugged by many powdery ladies who smelt of lavender.

In the end Sean, Tony and Paul were the only ones who could go. Patsy had left that morning, with Andrew, to visit his parents. She was very sorry that she would be missing Deirdre’s debut, but the visit had been decided before she knew the date of the concert. Andrew had tried to change it to arrive the following day, but his mother had been very stiff about it. Apparently they had arranged a party for that night.

‘I have to go,’ Patsy had told Deirdre miserably. ‘Things between myself and Andrew are dicey enough at the moment. I really can’t risk alienating his parents too.’

Deirdre had been bitterly disappointed, but could see that neither Patsy nor Andrew had much choice in the matter.

Then, that very morning, just an hour or so after
Andrew and Patsy had left, Maria had complained of feeling unwell. She did look decidedly flushed and Martha insisted she get into bed. Again, Tony was sent out for the doctor.

‘Measles, as I more or less expected, and a bad attack too,’ the doctor said. ‘These childhood illnesses can be the very devil in an adult. She will need careful nursing. Treatment the same as the others, but keep the room well darkened.’

Martha knew she would have her hands full. As well as her own family, she would have to cope with a boisterous three-year-old, a new baby and three sick people. The bed Sally and Theresa occupied was moved into Maria’s room to make it easier to see to all the invalids together, and Jack and the baby moved out. Martha was bitterly disappointed that she wouldn’t see her daughter dance, but she insisted that Sean, Tony and Paul go, for the child had to have some family members in the audience.

Sean and the boys were immensely proud of Deirdre and told her so. Sean hugged his daughter with tears of pure happiness in his eyes. ‘Now collect up your things, pet, and say your goodbyes for we have to be off.’

But the adrenalin was still coursing through Deirdre’s veins and she didn’t want to be dragged home just like that. She wanted to wear the beautiful dress that Maria had made her, and bask in the glory a little longer, to talk it over with fellow dancers. Before he had left the house, however, Sean had seen the lines of exhaustion on Martha’s face and he told her he would be back as soon as ever he could. Now it was already after nine.

‘But there is a party arranged, Dad,’ Deirdre said.

‘Oh, I don’t think you can stay to that,’ Sean said.

The dancing teacher, Norah Bellingham, came across to them at that moment, heard the exchange, and said, ‘Oh, but surely Deirdre must stay. She is the star of the night.’

‘I know and it can’t be helped but it’s getting her home, d’you see?’ Sean said. ‘I don’t want her walking home alone, and yet half of the house is down with measles.’

Tony felt sorry for Deirdre. ‘I could fetch her, Dad,’ he said.

‘I thought you were away to a party of your own?’

‘Well, yes, I am, but—’

‘You wouldn’t know what time to come for her anyway,’ the dancing teacher said. ‘Look, could she stay a little longer if I guarantee to get her home safely?’

Sean hesitated. He’d really have liked to take Deirdre with him so she could sit and drink her bedtime cocoa, and tell her mother all about the night. However, he saw plainly that the child wanted to stay.

The boys saw it too. ‘Go on, Dad. Don’t be mean,’ Tony said.

‘Yeah,’ Paul put in. ‘Let her go to the flipping party. I bet all the others are going, and you’ll make her look stupid if she can’t.’

‘And it isn’t as if she hasn’t earned it,’ Tony put it.

‘All right,’ Sean said, holding up his hands. He smiled wryly at Mrs Bellingham. ‘It seems I am outvoted, but you will see that she gets home all right?

‘You have my word,’ the teacher said. ‘Don’t worry, she will be quite safe.’

There was someone in the shadows who watched Sean and the two boys leave. He had known all about her dancing classes and the date of the concert because one of his drinking partners at the Cross Keys had a daughter at the class too, though she was much older than Deirdre. He’d told him about the party afterwards too, but as Deirdre was so young and neither Sean nor Martha liked the wind to blow on her, he didn’t know if she’d be allowed to go to that. But he saw she had, and he slunk back to the pub to sink another few pints before it was time to return to the hall.

Barney had been back there only a few minutes when the door to the hall opened and a woman appeared with Deirdre beside her, both dressed for outdoors. He heard the woman say, ‘Now, I’ll just take you home first and then come back and help them clear up.’

So, thought Barney, Sean is not coming back for her. He was surprised, but it suited him very well and he stepped forward. The teacher missed the look on Deirdre’s face as he approached. She had seen Barney at Mass and knew he was related to Sean and Martha. No one had complained to her of his drinking, gambling and violence.

So the teacher smiled at Barney as he said, ‘I was passing and heard what you said. It would be no bother for me to walk home with Deirdre.’

No, Deirdre’s mind screamed, but if she was to say she wouldn’t go home with Barney what reason could she give? Not the true one certainly, and she couldn’t think of any other plausible explanation. Already the teacher was saying it was good of him. Mrs Bellingham
smelt the beer on Barney’s breath, but thought that didn’t indicate a problem. Truth to tell, she had had more than a drop herself that night and now she was worn out. She had been on the go and on tenterhooks about the concert all day, and yet the room had to be put to rights before she could leave. If Barney could take Deirdre home it would help her a great deal. After all, no harm could come to her; the man was a relation. Yet still she said, ‘If you are sure, for I gave my word to the child’s father.’

Barney could still turn the charm on when he wanted. He smiled at Mrs Bellingham and assured her it would be no trouble, ‘Sure, she’s my niece. Don’t I love her like one of my own, and anyway, aren’t I near passing the door?’

I’ll run away, Deirdre thought as they turned from the hall. She did try, but Barney’s arm shot out and grabbed her, his fingers digging into her upper arm with such a vicelike grip she could feel it even through her coat.

‘Let go of me,’ she cried, trying to twist out of his grasp but his grip tightened still further so that she cried out with the pain of it. ‘Please leave me alone, Barney,’ she said gasped.

‘When I am good and ready,’ Barney said grimly. He was walking at such a pace, Deirdre could barely keep up, and often she was dragged to her feet just by her arm. Each time it was agonising, and she knew there was no possibility of escaping him.

Barney could afford to be reckless. He didn’t care any more about Sean, about any of them, because in two days’ time he was going back to Ireland. He had
the train and boat booked and until then he would lie low. If Sean came looking for him, he would never find him. Once in Dublin he’d be safe. He had dreamt of getting even with Sean before he left, and now the means of doing that so effectively was in his grasp. It was his last chance.

Deirdre began to beg, ‘Please let me go, Barney. Please.’ She was transfixed by terror. She wanted to scream and shriek out this abject fear, and only her father’s face floating before her stopped her. Tears of helplessness ran down her face and she didn’t even try to wipe them away. It didn’t matter, nothing did any more. She knew Barney was heading for the brickworks and she knew he intended to hurt her at the very least.

Deirdre felt the corroded, fractured fencing of the brickworks sear down both her legs as Barney dragged her over it and into the velvet darkness. ‘Let me go,’ she cried in panic. ‘You must let me go. You must see this is wrong…‘

She might as well not have spoken, for Barney made no response other than to throw her to the hard, frozen ground, as he had Patsy. She lay stunned for a second or two, feeling as if every bone in her body had been loosened. She had a terrific pain in her head when she had hit it with force, and she felt the bricks and rubble digging into her back, her bottom and tops of her legs. Her whole body began to quake.

Without any sort of warning, Barney landed on top of her, his weight almost crushing her and his poisonous breath full in her face as he said, ‘First I’ll give you a little taste of what your sister had and
then I just might throw you into the quarry and let the quicksand close over you.’

He couldn’t see her eyes, but it didn’t matter. He could feel her fear, could even smell it, it was so intense, and he smiled.

This can’t be happening to me, Deirdre thought, and she sobbed out through chattering teeth, ‘Please don’t do this, Barney. Let me go. Oh, please, please…’

But though she pleaded, she had little faith that it would change anything. She remembered Patsy begging Barney in the same way. As he fumbled with her clothes, she lay as though paralysed by fear and imagined that when Barney had done dirty unspeakable things to her, he would throw her away as if she was of no more account than a stone. She imagined herself hurtling through the air to land bruised and broken on the ground below, and the quicksand clawing and sucking at her, dragging her down, filling her noise and mouth.

She couldn’t stand it. She
wouldn’t
stand it. Even knowing it was useless, she began to struggle frantically and beat at Barney with her fists until he smacked her across the face so hard she cried out in pain, tasting blood in her mouth. ‘That’s for the one you gave me,’ he said. ‘Now lie still, you shameless little whore.’

Bile filled Deirdre’s mouth and then her scrabbling fingers felt a half-brick. Not knowing if it would do any good, she lifted it and hit out. Barney was unprepared for the clout on the side of his head, which dazed him for a split second. ‘You little bastard. I’ll…‘

He didn’t finish the sentence. Deirdre, frantic now—for she knew if she allowed Barney to recover from
this, it would be the worse for her—lashed out again. She heard the crack as the brick connected with his head and she followed it with another thump.

Barney, groggy and disorientated, felt blood seeping down his cheek. He knew he had to get to his feet, but as he tried, Deirdre struck out again. This time the brick struck his forehead, right between the eyes. Barney, in a semi-kneeling position, his arms folded in front of him to protect his face, began to sway. The next smack caused him to fall across Deirdre with a groan.

Using all her strength, Deirdre rolled Barney off. When she felt him twitch and heard him moan slightly, she really laid into him. She knew she had to kill him. It wouldn’t be enough to injure him, for then he would come after her. She lashed out, battering him over and over, as if a kind of madness had taken her over, until she was panting with the exertion of it. She felt sweat dampen her armpits and trickle down her back. By then, every sound and every movement from Barney had ceased.

She flung the brick away from her harder that she had ever thrown anything in her life—as if she couldn’t bear to be in contact with it any more and wanted it to be as far away from her as possible. Then suddenly overcome with nausea, she vomited into the mud. She wiped her hands, sticky with blood, on a bit of scrubby grass she’d felt as she bent over to be sick. She fastened up her clothes with hands that shook, and though she had an urgent need to get away from Barney’s inert body, it was hard to hurry across that rubble-strewn ground in the pitch-black.

Though she knew Barney lay still on the ground, any minute she expected to feel his hand on her collar, dragging her back, and tears once more began to rain down her cheeks.

He was dead, she told herself. Surely she had killed him, and she was not the tiniest bit sorry. Barney could never terrorise or bully anyone any more. Now she could tell her father everything and he wouldn’t get into any trouble.

And then the horror of what she had done began to kick in. She had killed a man, taken a life, and they hanged murderers. She couldn’t go home, but she had nowhere else to go, and she just walked aimlessly, in despair, wondering what on earth she was going to do about the heinous crime she had committed.

Eventually, despite her thick coat, the cold, mixed with shock, caused her teeth to chatter and her head to swim. When she felt herself lurching from one side of the pavement to the other she knew she had to make for home; there was nothing else she could think to do. She had almost reached the gate when a fog of blackness descended all around her and she collapsed in a heap on the pavement.