Under the July Sun (8 page)

‘Shut yer feckin' mouth!' Someone shouted and she fell silent.

They must be somewhere with rutted mud, a farm or somewhere off the road she thought, as the bumping became more pronounced. Then the car stopped and someone got out to open a gate. She knelt shaking, but listening for clues as to her whereabouts. She thought it sounded like a farm gate with the iron clasp being lifted.

The driver got back in and drove on. The bumping had ceased so Cat gathered they were on a smooth surface. Then the vehicle stopped again and someone opened the car door and pulled her out. She was bundled into what she thought was some sort of barn as she could smell hay and hear chickens. But so many farms had chickens; she could not tell where she was.

Someone pushed her down onto a hay bale and she heard the sound of several pairs of boots approaching. The voice of the person who abducted her spoke first.

‘Well Miss, ye're here to be taught a lesson.'

She didn't answer.

‘I said ye're here to be taught a lesson. What have ye to say for yerself?' He paused waiting for her to reply, but she remained silent. ‘Nuttin', by the sound of it.'

Cat thought she recognised his voice, but it was muffled, as though the man was speaking through a scarf on a cold day.

‘Got plenty to say normally.' It was the first voice again.

The hood was hot and she felt she was going to be sick, but she plucked up the courage to sound defiant. ‘What d'ye want with me?'

‘'Tis more like what do
ye
want with English soldiers. Filthy little whore.'

Then another voice asked, ‘Is it ready?' and the sack was suddenly yanked off her head. It was dark and she couldn't see, but before there was time to adjust to the gloom, someone blindfolded her. There was no point fighting, she was out-numbered, so she decided to comply; not provoke them, then maybe they would let her go.

Suddenly one of them grabbed her by the hair from behind and started chopping at her locks with what sounded like scissors. She tried to dodge out of the way but one of the men smacked her face and told her to hold still; then little by little she felt her hair falling onto her shoulders and her lap.

Time passed until she felt there couldn't possibly be any more hair to cut, but then she felt her scalp being scored by a razor until she realised her head must now be completely bald. Soon she smelt tar and felt the tacky substance being smeared across her naked skull before she sensed something soft descending gently onto her head, then falling lightly onto her shoulders. She could smell chickens.

* * *

Tom felt unsettled after the meeting earlier that night at Crampscastle. He'd told the gang that it was not for him, and they had sworn him to secrecy before he made his way back to Monroe.

He knew one or two of them,
but where on God's earth
, he wondered,
had they conjured up the rest from
? He would not have been surprised to see Paddy Hogan, but he was not amongst them.

He had begun unlacing his boots before going to bed when he heard what sounded like one of the kittens mewing outside. He stopped what he was doing. The noise came again, so he laced up his boots and went outside to listen.

He crossed the yard and stood by the gate; and when the sound came again he walked up the boreen thinking perhaps a kitten had become separated from its mother in the barn. He opened the barn door and struck a match to light the hurricane lamp, then he saw Cat - and all he could say was, ‘God in heaven!'

‘So, ye're no nearer catchin' the swines then?' Ned said to Brendan and leaned on the desk holding his head in his hands. Outside the lashing November rain beat against the windows.

Brendan frowned. ‘No.'

‘Have ye questioned Paddy Hogan?'

‘Sure, I went out to the Hogan's place ages ago to talk to him and his mother, but I'm not sure he had any direct involvement. He could account for his whereabouts that night.'

‘So, where was he?'

‘He says he was at home and that Father Ryan had been out to dine with them that evenin'.'

‘Huh! And ye believed him?'

‘His mother confirmed it.'

‘Ye know as well as I do she'd lie for him. The sun comes out of his backside where that one's concerned.'

‘Well every swan thinks their own signet's whiter than the rest,' Brendan said taking a bottle of whiskey from his drawer. He poured them both a shot. ‘C'mon now, Neddy, drink this, ye look as though ye need it.'

Ned thumped the table. ‘The feckin' names they called her an' all! English soldier's whore! Ye know yerself, Brendan, she never goes out, except to help in the shop with the girls or in the bar for Nellie. She's not even been out with anyone other than Paddy and she has certainly never gone out with a soldier! I'll kill ‘em if I ever find out who 'twas did that to her.'

‘Best left to me,' Brendan sighed, ‘though to be honest, Neddy, ‘tis goin' to be difficult to nail these bastards. I've got nowhere with the enquiries in all this time. I know this so-called company of Irish National Volunteers has sprung up - but to harm a woman is unheard of! Everyone I talk to says the same; they cannot imagine who would do such a thing.' He took a sip of whiskey and scratched the back of his head. ‘I wasn't goin' to tell ye, but Paddy even put in an appearance here a while back askin' if I'd found out who did it.'

‘G'w'on away wit
'
ye, he never did!'

‘Sure he did. Now he's either innocent, or he's more canny than I'd given credit for. I'll keep me options open at present and see which way the cards fall.'

Looking thoughtful Ned rubbed his chin.

‘Well, thanks for all ye're doing, Brendan. Maeve and I won't forget it.'

‘Look, Neddy, even if ye weren't me cousin I'd be after this bunch of scum. We don't want this kind o' thin' creepin' in here. Ye don't know where 'twill end. But I think we're goin' to have to lie low for now, and then maybe I'll get a tip-off from someone.'

Ned took his cigarettes out, lit one and blew the smoke upwards. He sat thinking, sighed, and then leaned forward to flick ash into a saucer.

‘Ye know Cat's set on goin' off to England to live. She's had an invite to go to Louis' sister and family for a while. Apparently there's plenty of work to be had in the Woolwich Arsenal packin' ammunition for the war.' His voice had a strained tone. ‘Now her hair's grown back some, she says she's goin'.' He picked up the whiskey glass, but just sat staring at it.

‘Jesus, Ned, ye'll miss her, and so will we. We all will. What a state of affairs that she has to run away to another country. It makes me sick to the heart.'

Ned shifted in his chair. ‘God save us, I don't know what Maeve and I will do without her. Not just for the help on the land, but she's the very breath in our lungs. I feel certain Paddy Hogan had somethin' to do with this. It has to be him, or some connection don't you think?'

He sat silently swirling the honey-coloured liquid round and round in his glass until Brendan broke into his train of thought.

‘Ye know, Neddy, even if I thought Paddy was at the bottom of this, how d'ye prove it? If he says he was with Father Ryan on that night, I'm not about to go and question Father Ryan about it.'

‘Why not? What's to stop ye askin' him?'

‘Fear, I suppose.'

‘Of what?'

‘I'm afraid that I may hear Father Ryan tellin' me somethin' I don't want to hear.'

‘I'm not with ye, Brendan.'

‘Well, 'tis true Father Ryan did go out to Hogan's that night, but I have no idea what time he left.'

‘So, d'ya think Paddy was usin' the visit as a sort of cover?'

‘Could be, but I have no proof, Neddy. I can't go questionin' a priest about his movements, especially if he's Paddy's alibi; there's no tellin' where that one would lead. And anyway, even if 'twas Paddy, there were others too accordin' to Cat.' Brendan lifted his glass. ‘Sláinte.'

‘Sláinte, Brendan.' Ned sipped the whiskey. ‘I see the way the land lies with these fiends. They're too slippery for the likes of us, especially if they're hidin' behind a priest's cassock.'

‘Maybe. But as a policeman I won't just look the other way, they'll thrive on that kind of inaction, to be sure. I shall have to find other means of discoverin' the truth. They'll slip up eventually.'

Ned got up and walked over to the window; his eyes welled with tears.

‘Do what ye have to Brendan. I won't be expectin' miracles. Cat's leavin' and I feel we've lost the battle already.'

* * *

The railway station was full of people boarding the boat train.

‘All aboard,' the guard repeatedly called as he walked along the platform slamming doors. Young folk were hanging out of the train windows saying their last tearful goodbyes to families, reminding each other to write as soon as they could.

Ned watched it all as though in a dream. He saw the family huddling around Cat, pressing rosaries and medals of Our Lady into her hands, and he couldn't speak. He thought Maeve looked pale as she tearfully kissed Cat goodbye.

‘Lord above,' he heard her say, ‘I never thought I'd see ye go, mo chuisle.'
¹²

He wanted to say so too. Wanted to shout out, ‘Don't go Cat,' but an appalling grief had gripped him and he could find no words to ease his pain.

The guard was shouting for everyone to stand back when Ned suddenly snapped out of his reverie. He pushed his way forward and elbowed the girls, Tom and Maeve aside. He went to Cat; pulled the collar of her coat straight; held her face in his hands and kissed her. Then his face wet with tears, he stepped back and watched her climb into the carriage and close the door.

A whistle blew and the train eased its way out of the station, swaying along the track until, smaller than a pinhead in the distance, it disappeared from view.

Cat walked briskly along Benares Road until she reached No. 29.
This is it
, she thought, opening the gate and walking along the path to the front door. When she knocked, the hollow-sounding echo suggested to her that the house was empty.

Standing on the doorstep as it began to rain, panic gripped her. Everything rested on the promise of accommodation with Louis' sister, Eliza.

She drew Louis' letter out of her bag and re-read it. He had assured her she could go to his sister, but the letter had been written a couple of months ago! There was only one thing to do she decided, and looking round to make sure no one was watching her, she pushed the letter box open and peered through.

The hallway was empty; there were no signs of life and the coat hooks on the wall were bare, so she went to look through the front-room window. Cupping her hands against the glass she saw the room was completely bare.

Perhaps the people next door may know something she thought, so slipped through a gap in the hedge. As there were children in the garden playing ball, she asked them if their mother was in.

‘Mum!' one of them bawled out, ‘someone to see yer.'

A woman appeared wiping her hands on her pinafore, looking annoyed. She eyed Cat up and down.

‘Yers, can I 'elp you?'

‘Yes. I'm sorry to bother ye, but I was wonderin' if ye knew where the family next door are; only I've just arrived and was expectin' to stay with them?'

‘They moved yesterday.'

A wave of panic washed over Cat and tears filled her eyes. She stood helplessly before the woman, wondering what on earth she was going to do now, but after a moment or two the woman spoke again.

‘They aint gorn far, 'cross the common to Roydene Road. Number seventeen.'

‘How do I get there?'

‘Walk! Like I says, just 'cross the common.' She nodded her head in that direction. ‘Straight over and second on the left. Easy 'nough to find.'

Cat looked in the direction of the common, and then turned to thank her only to find the woman had begun closing the door. Before she shut it though Cat heard her grumble. ‘Fucking Irish!'

Shocked, Cat stumbled out of the gate with her bag and headed for the common. The grass was sodden and it wasn't long before the hem of her skirt was soaked. She hobbled across the uneven ground lugging her bag of clothes.

The enormity of leaving home and arriving at a stranger's house to beg for accommodation suddenly hit her. What if she got the cold shoulder from his sister? She had taken for granted that Louis' letter meant the invite was from both him and his sister, but was it? All manner of doubts now crowded her thoughts filling her with uncertainty about what to do. She continued staggering across the common weighed down by her bag until at last she reached the other side and was able to leave the wet grass.

When Cat found the house, knocking on the door seemed like a major step to her and she hesitated. But then thoroughly soaked, she had no alternative than to get on with it.

She knocked on the door and waited. No reply. She knocked again; then heard distant sound of children's laughter from the back of the house. She rapped a little harder, and then from around the corner of the house a boy of about ten emerged. He had a mop of straw-coloured curly hair, cheeky blue eyes and rather crooked overlapping front teeth.

‘Hello,' she said, ‘is your mammy in?'

‘No. She's out.'

Her heart sank.

‘Is yer mammy Mrs. Eliza Collis?'

‘Yes, I think so. Only everyone calls her, Lize.'

‘When will she be home?'

‘Soon.'

‘Well, can I come in and wait for her? Cat asked.