Authors: Lyn Andrews

Tags: #Sagas, #General, #Fiction

Across a Summer Sea (22 page)

BOOK: Across a Summer Sea

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‘Put down those destroyed old bits of hangings. Haven’t you done enough already? You’ll lose the sight from your eyes at this rate. Take a glass with me, it will do you good.’

‘Are you sure it’s all right? Mr O’Neill won’t mind? I’m not a great one for the drink.’

‘Neither am I. Just a glass now and then and what Himself doesn’t know won’t harm him.’

‘It’s not
his
drink is it?’ Mary asked, a little alarmed.

‘It is not! Sonny brings me a bottle now and then from town, though I don’t think Himself would care about the odd bottle going astray.’

Mary took the proffered glass and sipped the sweet drink. ‘Mrs Moran, can I ask you something?’

‘What is it?’

‘I know that Mr O’Neill doesn’t like us mixing with anyone but apart from that - and his being humoursome, which I haven’t found him to be - why will no one stay?’

The older woman looked thoughtfully at her glass, deciding how much to tell Mary about Richard O’Neill.

‘He isn’t
that
bad,’ Mary prompted.

‘He is not but it’s his position.’

‘That of agent, you mean?’

‘Yes. This country has had a troublesome past, Mary. There have been rebellions against the English Crown and the absentee landlords. There are plenty of folk still alive who remember the Great Hunger when the potato failed. Very few Irishmen own their land, all have to pay rent and need to sell their crops and cattle to pay that rent, which leaves them little to live on. When the blight came and the potato failed the landlords still demanded their rents. Those who couldn’t pay were evicted, thrown out on the roads to starve or emigrate if they were lucky.’

‘I know. Thousands of them came to Liverpool.’

‘And thousands died there too, so I heard. The landlords still demand their rents today and the agents - like Richard O’Neill - are the ones who collect them. There are many around here who hate him for taking what they consider should be theirs. They work hard to scrape a pittance from the land and are bitter that they must hand it over to a man who lives in a grand house and wants for nothing. Who does no manual work himself. Someone who takes their last pennies and gives them to a landlord who hasn’t set foot in the place for years and who cares nothing for those who live and work on his estate.’

Mary nodded her understanding. It didn’t seem fair but that was the way things worked back home as well. The rich owned everything, the poor worked just as hard as the Irish and if there was no work then they starved too.

‘That’s why he won’t have us mixing with the local people,’ Mrs Moran added.

‘But you and Sonny and Bridie are local? Why do you stay?’

‘Because some of us can see past the title of Agent. He isn’t a bad man. There’s far more to him than meets the eye. He is compassionate, he
does
care about things and people and, despite what some people say, he is a man who loves his country. He’d not see anyone evicted if they couldn’t pay the rent. Mind you, his father did all right.’

‘His father worked here?’

‘He did until he died, ten years ago. It’s usually an inherited position and Richard inherited the hatred too. He . . . he hasn’t had an easy life, Mary, especially not with . . .’ She fell silent. She’d said enough. Mary had only been here a week, Mrs Moran didn’t know if she could trust her new colleague enough to tell her the rest of Richard O’Neill’s problems. Burdens, more like. Burdens that were whispered about and distorted and used to vilify him.

Mary gazed into the fire. What had the cook been going to tell her? She had clearly changed her mind about it. ‘So, you’ve known him for a long time?’

‘I have so.’

‘Has he no family? No brothers or sisters?’

‘None. His mother died when he was very young and the old feller never remarried. Mr O’Neill was packed off to Dublin to school as soon as he was old enough and then to the university. Trinity College.’

Mary was very surprised. ‘University! He must be very clever.’

‘Oh, he’s that all right. He was after studying to be a doctor but amongst other things the old feller wanted him to come back here. He was ailing then, though few knew it.’

‘That must have been hard for Mr O’Neill.’

‘It was. Oh, there were some fierce rows, I can tell you, but he settled - eventually. Well, now I’m off to my bed and if you’ve any sense you’ll be after going to yours too. I told Sonny to be ready at the back door for eleven o’clock to take you into Tullamore to meet the train. Won’t the little ones be delighted to see you? They must have missed their mammy and it’s a desperate journey to be taking on their own.’

‘Molly was putting them in the charge of the guard but I’m sure they’ll be glad to see me. And I’ve missed them too. Oh, I do hope they’ll settle well here.’

‘Ah, they will. Don’t you be worrying over it now.’

Mary smiled at her. ‘I won’t. And I’m for my bed too. I have to be up early. There’s chores to do before I can go off to the station!’

Chapter Fifteen

S
HE WAS WAITING ANXIOUSLY on the platform next morning when the train at last pulled in and the guard helped three slightly bewildered and tired children from the carriage.

‘There ye are, ma’am, safe and sound.’ The man smiled. ‘And I’ve not heard a sound out of them. No trouble at all.’

‘Thank you so much,’ Mary replied, rushing to them and gathering them in her arms. ‘Oh, I’ve missed you all so much! I really have! I’ve been counting the days. Are you tired?’

‘I’m starving, Mam. Is it far?’ Tommy said, looking around.

‘No. Sonny’s waiting in the yard with the trap and when we get home Mrs Moran will have something for you to eat. Tommy, you bring the bags. Lizzie, hold my hand.’ She held out her hand to the child who held it tightly. The whole journey had been a bit frightening for her and she didn’t really understand why they had left Molly’s, even though Katie had tried to explain. Nor did Katie’s unease, which she had sensed, help to reassure her. She had, however, taken some comfort from Tommy’s air of excitement. He’d never been on a train before, with or without his mam, and viewed it as a great adventure, although he was a bit apprehensive about this huge house he was going to live in and this Mr O’Neill who, Mam had said in the letter she’d sent to Molly, was very important.

‘Give those bags to me, lad, and climb up. Don’t stand at the pony’s rump, child, he’s inclined to be skittish,’ Sonny added to Katie who hastily moved to her mother’s side.

‘You can see
everything
from up here, Mam! It’s great!’ Tommy cried as they pulled out of the station yard.

‘I told you it would be, didn’t I?’ Mary laughed but felt a little concerned at Katie’s whey face and Lizzie’s scared expression. None of them was used to a trap.

Mrs Moran was waiting for them at the kitchen door. She exclaimed and fussed over them, sitting them down at the big table and watching with approval as they devoured the meal she put down before them.

‘That’s what I like to see, Mary, healthy appetites.’

‘They’re always hungry, especially Tommy. He’d eat you out of house and home.’

‘Sure, he’s a growing lad. Plenty of good wholesome food will put some flesh on all their bones. The country is a good place to rear up children, much better than dirty, crowded, noisy cities. You have certainly put manners on them, Mary.’

‘I try but sometimes they forget. Now, when you’ve finished I’ll take you and show you our rooms and the yard where you can play.’

‘And the river, Mam, don’t forget the river,’ Tommy said with his mouth full.

‘What was that you said about manners, Mrs Moran? He seems to have forgotten them already,’ Mary said, frowning at her son.

Katie felt much better when she’d seen the rooms Mam said were to be theirs. She and Lizzie were to share a big bedroom with Mam and Tommy was to have the smaller room, which was much better than sleeping on Molly’s floor, and the sitting room was warm and cosy and had some nice things in it. She helped Mam unpack the rest of their belongings while Lizzie sat on the bed and Tommy stared out of the window, trying to catch a glimpse of the river which seemed to hold a deep fascination for him.

After that they toured the yard, then crossed the small stile and walked along the grassy bank of the narrow but fast-flowing river. Both Katie and Lizzie held tightly to Mary’s hands but Tommy ran on ahead. Next they climbed the bank up onto the towpath where the canal ran over the river on the Hubbard Aqueduct. The children exclaimed in wonder when they learned it had been built in 1803. Mary lifted Lizzie up and sat her on the wall and they all turned and looked at the walls of the castle which seemed to tower over everything.

‘It’s
huge
! How many rooms does it have, Mam? I’ve never seen anything so big, it’s nearly as big as St George’s Hall,’ Tommy cried in awe.

Mary laughed. ‘Don’t exaggerate! It’s not nearly as big as St George’s Hall! But there are a great many rooms - as I know full well, having had to give them all a good clean.’

‘It’s a bit big for just Mr O’Neill and us,’ he said.

‘It is, but you’ll get used to it. You’ll only use our rooms and the kitchen. Mr O’Neill doesn’t want to be disturbed by you three running all over the place. Tomorrow afternoon as a special treat we’ll all go into Tullamore. I’ve not seen much of the town myself yet but there’s bound to be shops and churches.’

‘Will we have to go there to Mass, Mam?’ Katie asked.

‘No. There’s a church at Kilbride and a school at Ballinamere. I’ll go see the priest on Sunday about you starting school. I haven’t had time yet.’

‘So we won’t have to go on Monday?’ Katie asked, relieved.

‘No. Probably Tuesday or Wednesday. It’ll give you a bit of time to settle in. Now, we’d better get back. It will be getting dark soon and I’ve work to do.’

To Mary’s great surprise, when she served Richard O’Neill’s dinner that night, he asked whether the children had arrived safely.

‘They have, sir, and if it’s all right with you I have promised to take them into town tomorrow afternoon. I’ve not been there myself yet. Just to the station and back.’

‘Get Sonny to take you and mind you stay with him,’ he replied with a warning note in his voice.

Remembering Mrs Moran’s words the previous night she nodded.

‘And, Mrs McGann, after dinner I would like to meet your children. Will you bring them here to me?’

‘Yes. Yes, of course, sir, if you’re sure . . .’ she answered uncertainly. She hadn’t expected this.

‘Get yourselves changed and have a bit of a wash. Katie, brush Lizzie’s hair. I don’t know what she’s been doing with it, I’m sure. Mr O’Neill wants to meet you after he’s had his meal,’ she informed them, casting a mystified look and shrugging her shoulders at Mrs Moran’s enquiring glance. ‘Put on your Sunday clothes.’

‘Do you wear that frock and that fancy apron all the time, Mam?’ Katie asked, unused to seeing her mother in her uniform.

‘No, only for serving meals. I told you, Mr O’Neill is an important man in these parts. Now off you go and no nonsense out of you, Tommy.’

She inspected them all before she ushered them along the passageway to the dining room. Then she knocked and waited to be called in.

All three children stood close together, in awe of what seemed to them very grand surroundings. Nervously, they eyed the rather formidable-looking man who had risen from the table and stood looking down at them.

Mary pushed Tommy forward. ‘This is Thomas - Tommy. Say “How do you do, sir!” ’ she hissed to him.

The lad stepped forward and extended his hand.

BOOK: Across a Summer Sea

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