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Authors: Lyn Andrews

Tags: #Sagas, #General, #Fiction

Across a Summer Sea (41 page)

BOOK: Across a Summer Sea
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‘I know that well enough and that he cares about you!’
 
‘Then tell me!’
 
‘And put us all at more risk? If you really care about him then say nothing! He got away. He won’t put you or your children in danger if he can help it. He’s a careful man and trustworthy. That will have to be enough for you! Say nothing and no one will come to any harm. Now, I have to go. Trust him, Mary, and for the love of God keep your mouth shut!’
 
He turned and ran from the yard before she could say another word, leaving her staring after him, full of foreboding.
  
They had all had their evening meal in the kitchen and Mary had decided that she would walk with Katie and Lizzie along the river bank while Tommy fished. It was another beautiful evening yet she was unable to put the day’s events to the back of her mind. In town there had been nothing but talk of war but it was August Bank Holiday in a week’s time and she was hoping to persuade Richard to take them all on an outing to Banagher on the River Shannon where there was a small marina. He was sure to be back from Dublin by then.
 
They’d walked for a long time, following the course of the river until it joined the Rahan River, then they’d turned back for Lizzie had started to lag behind, a sure sign she was tired.
 
‘I wonder how many fish Tommy has caught by now?’ Katie mused.
 
‘It’s a wonder there’s anything left in that river by now, but Julia will put it in the cold press in the pantry.’
 
‘Mam, why do you call Mrs Moran “Julia” now? You never used to,’ the child queried.
 
‘Because now she’s more of a friend than she used to be. Ballycowan’s become our home and I suppose Julia and Sonny and Bridie are our family, sort of.’
 
‘And is Mr O’Neill a friend too? Is he family?’
 
Oh, how she longed to say, ‘He is. He’s your stepfather.’ Instead she looked at both girls sternly; she knew Lizzie could lip-read now. ‘Yes, he is a friend. He’s been very good to us, but it’s nothing more. You heard what Julia said this morning about the little monkeys. Now I want to hear no more about it.’
 
Katie said nothing. It looked to her as if he was more than just a friend to her mam. She was growing up and she’d heard some of the things that were whispered about when they came out of Mass, but it was best to say nothing.
 
They’d reached the wooden stile when they saw Bridie running towards them, her feet bare, her long dark hair flying. ‘Oh, Mary! Ma’am! Come quick!’ she screamed.
 
Mary started to run towards her, catching sight of both Tommy and Julia who were attempting to catch Bridie up. My God! Oh, Jesus! Please don’t let anything have happened to Richard! she prayed, her heart hammering against her ribs.
 
‘Bridie! Bridie, what’s wrong?’ she cried as the girl flung herself into her arms.
 
‘It’s the polis! The polis have come for him!’ the girl gasped between frightened sobs.
 
‘For who?’ Despite the warmth of the evening she felt icy cold.
 
‘For me da and Himself!’
 
Julia and Tommy had caught up. Julia was panting heavily.
 
‘Why have the police come for Sonny and Richard?’ Mary cried, clutching Julia’s arm.
 
‘To arrest them! Oh, Jesus, Mary and Holy St Joseph! And they’re after Peter Casey too. Haven’t they locked up half the men of the parish?’
 
Mary was horrified. What was going on? Was this something to do with Peter Casey’s visit? She pushed a terrified Katie and Lizzie towards Tommy. ‘Take care of them. Take them back to the cottage. Go across the fields; don’t speak to anyone. I’ll come down as soon as I can - don’t let
anyone
except me or Julia in! Go!’ She gave him a little push towards the stile.
 
‘Go back to the gatehouse, girl, and lock yourself in! Your da will be fine. Take heed of Mary, don’t open the door to anyone but myself or Mary!’ Julia instructed Bridie.
 
‘But, ma’am, what if the polis come? What if they break down the door?’ Bridie cried.
 
‘Then you can’t stop them and it’s no use trying but they won’t. They have nothing but the word of turncoats and informers!’
 
The girl ran like a frightened rabbit.
 
‘Oh, Julia! Why have they come looking for Richard? And Peter Casey was here early this afternoon!’
 
‘The Lord save us! What did he want?’
 
‘He was looking for Richard. I told him he’d gone to Dublin on the milk train and he seemed glad. He said he was leaving, going to America, but that he’d keep in touch.’
 
‘Well, that’s one mercy. I pray he’s on the mail boat by now and will be halfway across the water to Liverpool before the police in Dublin come to hear of it.’
 
‘Hear of what? Will you tell me what’s going on, please, and what it’s got to do with Richard?’
 
‘Mary, you must never,
never
breathe a word of this to
anyone
! Promise me?’
 
‘I promise. What is it?’
 
‘Richard O’Neill loves his country as well as the next man, despite him being a landlord’s agent and people around here despising him for it. Though not everyone does. A few really
know
him. There are plans . . . plans to make Ireland a free country.’
 
Mary’s eyes widened as the full implication dawned on her. ‘You mean a . . . rebellion? And Richard . . . ?’
 
‘With all this talk of war’ - Julia smiled crookedly - ‘well, there’s a saying: “England’s difficulty is Ireland’s opportunity.” ’
 
‘That’s what they were doing last night? What were they moving?’
 
‘Arms. A shipment came into Waterford by boat last week. They’ve been moved up through the country. Richard was to be responsible for getting them safely through this county and into Westmeath and Kildare. Then they’d be distributed amongst the new brigades in Dublin. But now the police have heard about it and are looking for the arms and for him! From what little he told me, nothing was supposed to happen for two years, nineteen sixteen, at Easter time. They have new men now in Dublin who plan carefully and will tolerate no informers, though it seems we have one down here who will take traitor’s gold! May he burn in hell!’
 
Mary was trying hard to take it all in. ‘And Richard is part of this?’
 
Julia nodded grimly. ‘He can go up to Dublin without too many questions being asked.’
 
‘And to Liverpool. Was that why he was there with Peter Casey, the day I saw them?’
 
‘Most likely.’
 
‘Is this why he can’t marry me? Is
this
what he meant? Oh, Julia, I would have married him anyway! I love him, no matter what he’s done!’
 
Julia shook her head. ‘No, Mary. It’s bad enough but it’s not that.’ She uttered a cry. ‘Oh, God! They’ve come looking for us! Say nothing, Mary! You know nothing and neither do I!’
 
They stood clutching each other’s hands as four burly members of the Royal Irish Constabulary marched grimly towards them.
 
Chapter Twenty-Seven
 
 
T
HEY WERE ESCORTED BACK to the house, refusing on the way to answer any questions about Richard O’Neill or Sonny or Peter Casey. To her horror Mary saw that there were police everywhere: in the yard, in the barn, in the stables and - from the clearly audible squealing of the sow and her litter - in the sty as well.
 
The house was in uproar. Men in dark green uniforms seemed to be everywhere. Furniture was overturned and rugs flung haphazardly over it; ornaments smashed; drawers pulled out; Richard’s papers scattered across the hall floor.
 
‘How dare you! How
dare
you!’ she screamed, anger chasing away fear.
 
‘Oh, so you can speak!’ the inspector who was in charge roared at her.
 
She held her ground. ‘This is a disgrace! Is there any need for this wanton destruction of a gentleman’s home?’ Her green eyes were blazing.
 
‘And where is this
gentleman
?’
 
‘I don’t know. I’m merely his housekeeper! All he told me is that he had to go away on business. It’s all he ever tells me. I need to know nothing else. It’s not my position.’
 
‘From what I hear your
position
is something more than that of housekeeper.’
 
She drew herself up and stared icily at him. ‘How dare you! I am a respectable widow with three young children. I do not sleep in this house; none of us do. You will apologise for your disgusting and slanderous remarks or your superiors will hear of this from Mr O’Neill, who, I might remind you, is an agent.’
 
He was a little taken aback. He hadn’t expected this. There were very few people around here who were not afraid of him. But he soon recovered himself.
 
‘Apologise my arse! Where do you think the warrant came from? And as for Mr O’Neill, agent or not, he’s involved in all the treachery that’s been going on around here. They all are!’
 
‘We know nothing of any treachery, as you call it. We are decent, law-abiding, hard-working people.’
 
‘And I suppose you’ve never heard of Peter Casey?’ he sneered.
 
‘I’ve heard of him but I don’t know him.’
 
‘Nor his old sot of a father? A man who had a very loose and slanderous tongue.’
 
‘He’s dead and well you know it.’
 
‘Well, seeing as Mr O’Neill isn’t here, we’ll take you along and see if you change your mind.’
 
‘No! I’ve done nothing!’ she cried.
 
‘You leave her be, you bullying misbegotten son of Satan!’ Julia Moran yelled. She too was terrified but Mary’s courage had stiffened her resolve. She had never admired Mary more than at this moment.
 
‘You watch your mouth, old woman, or you’ll be coming along too!’
 
‘What about the girl, sir, the young one we saw running like a rabbit for a bolt-hole?’ a sergeant asked.
 
‘Bridie knows nothing. She just lives in the gatehouse,’ Julia said, glaring at the man.
 
‘Sonny’s her da.’
 
‘She’s little more than a child,’ Mary protested, thinking frantically about her own children, alone and terrified, not knowing what was happening.
 
‘Leave her for now. Take Sonny and this one here,’ the inspector said.
 
The sergeant made to take Mary’s arms but she angrily flung off his grip. ‘Don’t you touch me! I can walk quite well.’ She turned to Julia, her face white with shock and anger. ‘Julia, see to the children, please? Tell them - tell them I won’t be long.’
 
‘I wouldn’t count on that!’ the inspector snapped.
 
Two sweating constables came into the hall.
 
‘Well, did you find anything?’
 
‘Nothing. They’re either well hidden or there’s nothing here.’
 
‘That bastard who gave us the information might have been wrong,’ the sergeant whispered to his superior.
 
‘I’ll break his bloody neck if he is! Now get them out of here and get back to town!’
 
 
Mary had never been more afraid in her life. She hadn’t realised that things like this could happen, not to people like herself, and although she didn’t understand the politics she swore to herself she would say nothing that would incriminate Richard.
 
They questioned her long into the night. Over and over they asked her the same questions. At one point she asked for a drink of water but it was denied and the interrogation started up again. She had no knowledge of the law and therefore no idea of how long they could keep her here.
 
Time and again she told them she was just Richard O’Neill’s housekeeper. That she knew nothing of his business or the reason for his visits to Dublin. She told them she knew and cared nothing for plots and rebellions. She was from Liverpool. She was a loyal subject of the King and always had been.
 
BOOK: Across a Summer Sea
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