The Godforsaken Daughter (25 page)

“Aye, I’m Jamie . . . Jamie Mc—”

“McCloone, yes, from the field . . . Jamie Barry . . .”

“Aye, James Kevin Barry Michael, but—”

“But you get Jamie for short.”

“That’s me,” Jamie said. He tugged on his ear and adjusted his cap, self-conscious under Ruby’s scrutiny.

“That was . . . that was a while ago now.”

“Aye, three weeks and two . . . two and a half days ago, about,” Jamie said.

Ruby smiled shyly. “I’m . . . I’m sorry I didn’t give it to you . . . the field . . . I—”

The car door was thrust open, abruptly. “What on earth are
you
doing? We have to get going.” May was looking out. “Oh, sorry,” she said, on seeing Jamie.

“That’s all right. Is your . . . is your mother all right, is she?”

“Cooee . . . cooee!”

Ruby and Jamie were alerted to the sound of a female voice. They saw Rose, hat askew, dress hitched about her knees, making the last perilous furlong toward them on husband Paddy’s arm.

Ruby, embarrassed by May’s outburst within earshot of Jamie, rushed to meet the pair.

“Mammy . . . Mammy says she doesn’t need a hospital,” she explained. She glanced back at the vehicle. Jamie McCloone was in conversation with May. “Maybe all she needs is a wee push to get her goin’ again.”

“What?” Rose mopped her brow with a lacy hankie. “Your mother needs a wee push to get her goin’ again, Ruby?”

“No, the
car
, Rose, the
car
,” Paddy exclaimed.

“Och, aye, the car. I’m with you, now, Ruby.”

“Well, you haven’t bogged the wheels,” observed Paddy. “So me and Jamie’ll give you a push no bother.”

They moved toward the vehicle.

“I’ll have a wee word with your mother first, just to make sure,” Rose said. “’Tween God and his heavenly mother, hopefully she’ll be all right. I was a nurse in me day, don’t you know.”

“That’s very good of you, Rose.” Ruby opened the passenger door and the former nurse settled herself. Ruby got into the driver’s seat beside her.

Jamie and Paddy stood to one side, looking on. May remained in the back, holding her mother’s hand.

“Hello, Martha!” Rose shouted. “Rose McFadden’s me name . . . remember me, do you? I’d be Duttie tae me own
name. A daughtur of the Longrod-Mickies of Ballymacrott Ridge on the mountain road.”

Mrs. Clare opened her eyes briefly. “Oh . . . Rose . . .” she moaned.

“Now, Martha, you’ve just had a wee bit of a bump on the head . . . nothin’ tae worry about. I’m just gonna check yer vitals.”

“My . . . my what . . . Rose?”

“Yer vital signals, Martha,” Rose clarified. She put a hand on Martha’s forehead. “Now, you’re not too hot and that’s a good sign. So no fever tae worry about.”

Next, she felt for a neck pulse, timing with her watch. “Now, Martha, you’re tickin’ at sixty tae the minute, and that would be normal for a woman your age who’s hurted her head. So I think—”

“Look, she hit the back of her head quite hard,” May said curtly. To May Clare’s critical eye this McFadden woman was nothing but a country bumpkin who knew next to nothing. “She might have bleeding on the brain? She needs an X-ray and we’re wasting valuable time here. I’m a pharmacist. I know about these things.”

“You’re
not
a pharmacist; you’re a shop assistant,” Ruby said acidly. “And Rose is an ex-nurse, so she knows more than you.”

“And
you’re
mentally ill,” May shot back, jumping out of the car. “So keep your stupid opinions to yourself!”

Ruby was on her feet just as quickly. “I’m
not
mentally ill,” she cried. “And—”

Just then, to everyone’s astonishment, Martha Clare rose out of the car, like Lazarus from the tomb.

“
Now . . . stop . . . that . . . this . . . minute!
” she howled.

Everyone turned to stare.

“These people are here to help me and I’ll
not
have a scene.”

Ruby and May hung their heads.

Then, addressing Rose, Paddy, and Jamie, she said, “You’ll have to excuse my daughter Ruby. She’s mentally unstable. May and me were bringing her to the doctor because she needs to be admitted to St. Ita’s. Last night she tried to drown herself, and just now she tried to kill us all in that car.”

Ruby began sobbing. She splayed her hands, beseeching. “She’s telling
lies.
It’s . . . all lies.”

She turned away from them all and ran off down the field.

Rose tut-tutted. “Paddy, Jamie,” she said, taking control. “See if yins can get that car started. I’m gonna see tae poor Ruby.”

“Och . . . there, there, there,” Rose said, catching up to the weeping Ruby. “Don’t upset yourself, daughtur dear.” Rose put an arm about her and led her over to a low wall that bordered the field. “Now, we’ll sit down on this wee wall till you get your breath back, and don’t you worry about them.”

She took a handkerchief from her handbag.

“Take that wee hankie and dry your eyes. Nothing’s ever as bad as it seems. Your mother maybe didn’t mean any of that. She’s just upset after getting that wee knock on the back of the head. And your sister’s just a bit shocked.”

“They’ve always hated me, Rose . . . blamin’ me for everything that goes wrong. When Daddy was alive he and me were so happy. He . . . he always took my side. And last night I wasn’t trying tae drown meself. I was just going for a swim—”

“Yes, I believe you, Ruby. A lovely girl like you wouldn’t be doing the like of that. And your father was the greatest man. Everybody liked him, so they did. It’s understandable that you might be feeling a wee bit down with some of that old day-pression since he died. You must miss him terrible badly? How long’s it been now?”

Ruby sniffled into the handkerchief. “Seven months . . . two weeks and . . . and four days.”

“God, that’s no length of time atall. Is it any wonder you’re upset.”

“And I wasn’t trying to kill them in the car. Mammy was shouting at me, and May only got her test. She . . . she took her eyes off the road and lost control. I saved us all, ’cos I grabbed the wheel from her.”

“I believe you, Ruby,” Rose said. “Have no fear of that.”

The sound of a car backfiring had them both looking up the field. They saw Paddy and Jamie giving the vehicle a push, with May at the wheel.

“Now, my Paddy and Jamie will have that car goin’ in no time.”

“That’s good,” Ruby said, feeling a little better. “I need to go to that clinic now. For . . . for if I don’t, she’ll get the doctor to sign me in tae St. Ita’s, and I can’t go in there.”

Rose patted Ruby’s arm.

“Now you listen to me, Ruby. I’ve just come from that Rosebud Clinic meself.”

“You have?”

“Yes. D’you see Jamie there? He’s a very good friend of me and my Paddy, and he suffers from that old day-pression, too.”

Ruby looked at Rose, her sad eyes full of understanding. “God, does he, Rose?”

“He does indeed. His wee dog died a couple of months back and it’s hit him something awful. Now, like yourself, Jamie doesn’t like going near no doctor, so I went with him to explain things to Dr. Shelfin. And as long as you attend them appointments, that nice doctor will not be putting any of the pair of ye into that old hospital. ’Cos I could see he was a very understanding fella.”

In the background, the car could be heard roaring into life.

“Look, Ruby! See, I told you my Paddy and Jamie would get her going.”

After a few turns round the field, the car engine was ticking over nicely again.

“Now, Ruby,” Rose said, always thinking ahead—and with her matchmaking hat firmly in place. “Before we go . . . do you have a wee phone number you could give me?”

“I do, Rose, aye.”

Rose found a pen and took out her diary.

“It’s two-eight-two-nine-four-five.”

“That’s great. I’ll ring you the morra, just tae see you’re all right.”

“Thanks, Rose.”

At the car, Ruby shook hands with Paddy and Jamie. “Thanks very much,” she said. “I’m . . . I’m sorry about all that.”

“No bother atall,” said Paddy. “And there’s nothin’ tae be sorry about, Ruby. Sure there’s not, Jamie?”

“Naw, nothin’ . . . nothin’ atall. Maybe . . .” Jamie stuck his hands in his pockets and scuffed the ground. “Maybe . . . maybe we’ll see you about?”

“Aye . . . I hope so,” Ruby said.

Rose smiled. “And I hope so, too,” she said, giving Ruby’s arm a squeeze. “Now, you go on there with yer mammy. God willing, everything will turn out all right.”

“Hurry up!” It was the acerbic May. “We’re late already.”

Ruby got in the back and the car roared away across the field, turned out onto the road, and disappeared from view.

The spectacle might be over, but the real drama was about to begin.

Chapter thirty

G
ood to see you, Ruby,” Henry said, getting up from behind his desk. Ruby gave a diffident smile but said nothing. “And you, Mrs. Clare. Please . . . take a seat.”

They took chairs opposite him. He thought the mother looked a bit off-color.

“Good afternoon, Doctor,” she said. “I’m sorry we’re late. We had a bit of an accident on the way.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, my daughter, May . . . you met her last night. She was driving, and Ruby here thumped her on the back, making her lose control. She could have got us all killed.”

“I
didn’t
thump her on the back. I thumped the back of the seat ’cos you were shouting at me.”

“Is it any wonder I was shouting at you?”

“Is this true, Ruby?”

Ruby shook her head. “May’s only passed her test . . . she lost control of the car.” She looked at her mother. “’Cos
she
was shouting at me so much. Only for me grabbing the steering wheel, we’d’ve crashed into—”

“And why d’you think I was shouting at you?”

“Just a minute, Mrs. Clare. You’ve given your version of events. Now I’d like to hear from Ruby.”

“Why would you want to hear what she has to say? The fact that she’s unstable is the reason we’re here.”

“Perhaps you should wait outside, Mrs. Clare.”

“No, I certainly will not, Dr. Shevlin! You need to hear the truth, and you will only get the truth from me, her mother. You talked to her alone last night, and were no doubt fed a pack of lies. Now you will hear what
I
have to say.”

Oh, that pesky need of hers to be at the helm! Henry imagined her in the front row of every public execution, knitting like a demon in the manner of the legendary Madame Defarge.

“You are not here to give me a list of what you consider to be Ruby’s shortcomings, Mrs. Clare. I will hear what you have to say. After which, I would like you to wait outside while I speak with Ruby . . . alone. Can we agree on that?”

Mrs. Clare gripped her handbag more tightly. Ruby sat with head bowed, twisting her hands.

“First, Dr. Shevlin,” the mother said, “you need to know about Ruby’s grandmother, Edna . . . her father’s mother. She was mentally unbalanced and that’s who Ruby takes after. Not long after I married her son, she took her own life . . . walked into Beldam Lake, just as Ruby was trying to do last night. So it’s in the Clare genes, I’m afraid.”

“
She wasn’t trying to drown herself!” Ruby turned on the mother. “She was only trying to contact A
rthur and wee Declan.”

Mrs. Clare spread her hands in an imploring gesture. “D’you see what I mean, Doctor?” She glared at Ruby. “How on earth would you know what she was trying to do? You were only a baby, and still are by the sounds of you. Your grandmother was a
witch
! And by ‘contacting,’ I suppose you mean talking to the dead, which just goes to prove my point that you’re turning into
her
. Do you not realize how mad you sound, Ruby? Well, do you?”

Ruby understood she’d said too much.

“But
I
know,” her mother went on. “Oh yes, I know all too well how mad you are. You did not burn her case like I ordered, did you? You kept it. You opened it, and now look at the mess you’re in. And don’t say I didn’t warn you. You’ve brought all this on yourself
. . .
this . . . this evil
.”

Ruby started to weep.

“I think you’ve said enough, Mrs. Clare. Can you wait outside now, please?”

“Just so you know, Dr. Shevlin, this . . . this . . . godforsaken daughter of mine’s been dabbling in black magic, like her grandmother before her. It comes full circle, you know. God knows, she most likely needs an exorcism as well as the asylum. Father Kelly saw it immediately, when he came across her in the woods praying over a tree stump, her hands raised to the sky, talking some mumbo jumbo to God-knows-who. Her grandmother was at the same sort of nonsense before she took her own life. So now you know, Dr. Shevlin!”

Having finished her spiel, the mother got up.

Ruby clamped her hands over her ears.

“Stop it! Stop it!” she cried. “I just wish you would—”

“
Oooohhhhh.
”

It was Martha. She staggered. Grabbed the chair.

Henry was on his feet, just in time to break her fall.

Martha could not have chosen a better setting to take her turn. The hospital was ten minutes away, and Henry had her checked and in the ambulance immediately.

Half an hour later, May and Ruby found themselves sitting outside the intensive care unit of St. Leonard’s, weeping, and fearing to hear the worst. May wept for her mother; Ruby for the fact that she just might have caused her death.

She went back in her mind to that evening Martha had told her about Edna’s case. If only she had done as she was told—taken it down to the woods there and then, and burned it—then, perhaps, none of this would have happened.

The swing doors to the unit opened and a nurse appeared, wearing a surgical mask. The siblings looked up, full of hope—and dread. But the nurse went to a man sitting farther up and whispered to him.

The man got up, his expression as grave as the leaden sky beyond the window, and accompanied her through the swing doors into the unit.

May discarded her sodden tissue in a bin. She rummaged in her handbag for a fresh one. “If Mummy dies, you’re gonna have it on your conscience for the rest of your life. You know that, don’t you?”

Ruby said nothing. She stared at the speckled terrazzo, the pattern blurring and clouding under yet another wash of tears. Yes, she would have her mother’s death on her conscience. May was right about that. It would be the price she’d have to pay for “consorting with the Devil,” as her mother put it.

She’d been right all along. Why had she been so foolish, thinking even for a minute that she could meet her father again through a set of silly cards? Have her dreams come true by burning a pouch of herbs in a silver dish?

It was all lies.

The cards.

The rhyme.

The voice.

The dream book.

And that other book:
The Book of Light
.

All lies. Wasn’t that what the Devil was called: the Father of Lies?

Writing that book and believing in such things was simply Edna’s way of coping with the unthinkable, the tragedy of not only losing her husband but her little boy
as well
.

Then the second tragedy: her only son meeting Martha and getting married. A stranger at the table, taking over Oaktree. Another loss, a betrayal too far.

Ruby intuited the terrible trajectory Edna’s life must have taken, from the depths of despair in the farmhouse to the depths of oblivion in Beldam Lake, and understood all too clearly why she’d made that choice. There was nothing left to live for. Confined to the bedroom at the top of the stairs, a captive in her own home, there was no other way out.

This evening, Ruby knew what she had to do. She would go home, burn the case and everything in it. Only then could Grandma Edna finally rest in peace.

“You can go in now,” a voice said.

Ruby looked up into the face of a nurse.

“But only one of you, and only for a few minutes.”

“Oh God, has she come round?” May got up.

The nurse nodded. “Yes, but she’s very weak. I’m Nurse Toner, by the way.”

“I’ll go,” the twin said immediately, without consulting Ruby.

May found her mother at the far end of a room in one of six occupied beds, hooked up to a heart monitor, a drip attached to her left arm. She looked frail and small against the starched linens, appearing to have aged by years in the short time from her collapse at the clinic to her confinement in the bed.

Her eyes were shut, her mouth agape.

May went and stood by the bed, weeping silently. She gently squeezed the hand that lay on the bedclothes, but the gesture brought no response.

“Mummy . . . Mummy, can you hear me? It’s May.”

Martha’s eyes opened briefly. Then, just as quickly, closed again. The seeming effort too much.

“You’re going to be all right, Mummy. You . . . you just had a little fall, that’s all.”

“Hmmm . . .”

“Can you hear me?”

No response.

May leaned in closer. “Mummy, can you hear me? You’re going to be all right.”

But the mother just lay there, motionless. The only indication she was breathing: the barely perceptible rise and fall of the sheet across her chest.

All too soon, Nurse Toner indicated that the time was up.

“How is she?” Ruby said anxiously, at the sight of May and the nurse back in the corridor. “Can I go in now?”

“No, you
cannot
.” May was back in character. “You’ve caused enough harm already. Do you want Mummy to get worse, do you?”

Nurse Toner stared at May. She turned to Ruby. “You must be . . . ?”

“Ruby . . .”

“Ruby, your mum is stable but weak. It’s best that she just sleeps for now. I think you and your sister should go home and come back later this evening. The results of her X-rays will be through by then, and you can talk to the doctor.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” May announced in a challenging tone. “I don’t want my mother to die alone. I want to be by her side.”

“Hopefully your mother is not going to die,” Nurse Toner said, with the resignation of someone who’d had to say the same thing many times in the past. “And I’m sorry, but visitors are not allowed in the intensive care unit. That is why it is referred to as an intensive care unit. We, the staff, must be allowed to care for the patients without interruptions from outsiders. Now, as I said, it is best you both go home. I will ring you immediately if there is any change.”

“In that case,
I’ll
wait here in the corridor. Ruby, you go home.”

“As you wish,” Nurse Toner said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got work to do.”