Miracle Woman (35 page)

‘How'd she take you and Mike splitting up?'

‘I guess she was shocked at first, but she's just getting used to it. The fact we still see each other and speak makes her kind of hopeful that we'll get back together again!'

‘And will you?'

Martha considered. ‘No, I don't think so. Too much has changed between us and there's probably no going back at this stage.'

‘I'm sorry, sis. I wish Mom would come visit. I know if she spent time with Lisa, and gave her a chance and got to know her, she'd realize what a great girl I married.'

‘I know, Brian, but you know what she's like.'

Martha couldn't figure why her mother had taken Brian's remarriage so badly. Brian, her firstborn, had always been her favourite. When his marriage to Gail had broken up after only two short years, her mother had prayed and said novenas in the hope that they'd get back together. Maybe her brother's refusal to tell their mother of his wife's affair had insulated her from the true reasons for his divorce, but surely she couldn't expect someone as loving as her brother not to want to settle down again.

‘Maybe Bee and Mom could fly out and stay with us. We'd love to have them! Please try and persuade her when you get back home. You know she listens to you.'

‘I'll try, Brian, I'll try,' she promised.

Martha had a radio interview at 1 p.m. and a scheduled walk around the impressive modern university hall they were using for the healing session afterwards.

Leaving the TV studio she was amazed to bump into Dan Kendrick, recognizing his huge
frame in a lightweight suit walking slowly along the corridor ahead of her. She didn't expect him to remember her and was just about to pass him when he stopped.

‘Martha, don't tell me that you're about to walk by me!' he said accusingly.

‘No, Dan, of course not!'

‘Well, how's my favourite healer?' he joked, amused by her embarrassment.

‘Fine.'

‘I read about your visit in the papers. You're getting to be quite famous.'

She grimaced.

‘Not something you enjoy, I gather?'

Martha shook her head.

‘Would you like to join me for lunch and I can show you my good elbow again?'

She burst out laughing. ‘I'm sorry, Dan, but I've an appointment that I'm already late for.'

He looked wounded. ‘Well, what about tomorrow?' he suggested.

‘No can do!' she apologized. ‘I've a packed schedule and we'll be flying out this time tomorrow.'

‘Dinner tonight?'

She shook her head again. ‘I've got my session on.'

‘Well, a quick bit of supper afterwards, then! I could pick you up about ten, and you can fill me in on how Bob and Gina are coping with parenthood.'

She didn't like to refuse him, and was in such a rush she agreed to see him later, without thinking.

Kathleen and Ruth were already in the circular hall checking the layout. There was enormous interest in Martha's work and a camera crew from the local TV station had asked if they could film during the event.

‘No!' She was adamant. ‘
No
.'

Ruth and the guy from the events company were trying to persuade her otherwise.

‘I will not have cameras used during the healing session,' she insisted.

‘What about before or after, when the crowds are coming out?' suggested the events man. ‘It would give you a lot more publicity!'

‘The people that come tonight to meet me deserve their privacy. There can't be cameras at any stage, I'm sorry but that's it,' she said, digging her heels in, not wanting to break the trust between herself and those who came to see her.

That evening when she entered the hall Martha tried to hide her surprise when she saw a few members of the waiting crowd wearing T-shirts with the word
MIRACLE
on them. Who had made them or sold them? she wondered. Ruth just shrugged her shoulders and laughed when she pointed them out to her.

The hall grew hot, as the air conditioning worked haphazardly. Martha felt herself get warmer as she dealt with one person after another,
sometimes barely having time to talk to them or find out their name or their particular problem. Ruth fetched her a jug of ice cold water and a fan. There were two couples with toddlers and she insisted on meeting them first, her heart going out to the young parents of sick children. As always she couldn't believe the huge range of problems that beset humankind and asked the Good Lord to help and guide her in his healing work.

Exhausted at the end, all she longed for was a cool shower and to fall into bed between fresh sheets. It was only as she walked out through the main entrance hall that she remembered agreeing to meet Dan Kendrick. Kathleen and Ruth were still inside dealing with things, wanting to go back straight to their hotel to put the money collected into the hotel safe until the morning.

‘Oh, Dan, I'm sorry! I . . .'

‘San Francisco is full of restaurants,' he began. ‘So, tell me what kind of food you'd like! I've a favourite Cuban one, but that may not be to your taste.'

‘Dan, I'm really sorry but if you took me to a restaurant now I'd probably just fall asleep at the table, so please don't waste your money.'

He stopped talking and looked down at her.

‘You look beat. Did you get anything to eat earlier?' he asked.

‘I'd a salad sandwich at about four o'clock.'

‘Then you're hungry.'

‘I suppose,' she agreed.

‘What about a walk down on the pier and grab something there? Then I'll drop you straight back to your hotel.'

‘I'm actually staying with my brother Brian in Mountainview,' she explained.

‘Even better then – it's on my way home.'

The harbour area was lit up with strings of coloured lights that danced and reflected on the still water, Alcatraz out there in the far darkness. Gangs of tourists and couples hand in hand paraded by them. Martha appreciated the fresh air and the slap of the seawater against the pier as they strolled along the waterfront. They bought fresh fish and chips from a streetside vendor then walked along eating it out of paper containers. Dan treated them to two chilled pints of beer, served in plastic glasses.

‘How's that husband of yours?' he enquired politely.

Martha was embarrassed as she told him briefly about the break-up of her marriage.

‘I'm sorry to hear that,' he responded.

They wandered into one of the gift shops that opened late on the pier. Martha was unable to resist the music boxes. Dan helped her to choose one for Sarah, Gina and Bob's new baby; it was covered in bluebells and hidden fairies and she added one for each of her own girls, white unicorns for Mary Rose and mermaids for Alice. The night air was warm with a slight salt breeze; a lone seal was barking below in the distance as
they strolled, Dan telling her about his tough Chicago childhood and Martha telling him of the rich Irish-American network that had sustained her family over the years. Dan eventually talked of his wife Teresa, who had died ten years earlier following a brain haemorrhage, and how lonely it had been since then. ‘I still miss her,' he admitted.

Martha instinctively took a hold of his hand as they walked.

Later he drove her back to Brian's house. The fresh air and food had definitely revived her, as she felt more invigorated.

‘That was the perfect dinner!' she teased, asking him to come in and meet her brother and his wife.

‘No thanks, Martha, I'd best get home and anyways you have an early start tomorrow.'

They sat in the darkness, reluctant to end the night.

‘You feel like any more midnight walks on the pier, let me know!'

‘And you feel like any more cheap fish suppers you let me know,' she responded.

‘Have a safe journey to Boston tomorrow, Martha,' he said quietly.

‘And you take care of yourself, Mr Kendrick.'

Dan kissed her cheek politely before she got out of the car, Martha rushing inside like a guilty teenager.

FATHER EUGENE REAGAN
returned angry from his visit to Bishop John Stevens's office in the city. The bishop had been adamant that the problem of Martha McGill, this so-called ‘Miracle Woman', was to be sorted out.

‘There's the Lucas boy, Sean Peterson, the man in the motorbike accident that was plastered all over the papers and a few others scattered throughout the country,' complained the bishop. ‘Do you realize, Eugene, that in all the years since Our Blessed Lady first appeared to Bernadette in Lourdes, and with all the millions of pilgrims that have visited that sacred shrine ever since, there has only been a total of sixty-six documented authentic cures – or miracles, as some like to call them – and that is in one of the Church's holiest of places and yet we are to believe that one of your parishioners has been granted this sacred gift! The whole notion is preposterous, and I for
one, Father, am waiting to see how you will put a stop to it!'

‘I spoke to her already, Bishop Stevens, and put my concerns to her, but unfortunately she is not willing to listen.'

‘Then you must
make
her listen, Father.'

Father Eugene sighed as he worked in the small study of his parish house. He did not appreciate being hauled over the coals by his superiors and admonished for the way he ran his business. He had two funerals booked into the church for the next morning and checked his message service in case any of the deceased's family members had been trying to contact him. There was a message on his machine from a newspaper journalist asking for a quote on ‘the miracles', and ‘What was the Church's and his position in relation to Martha McGill?'

Not having to debate the matter too long, he jotted down the number as he returned Lara Chadwick's call, knowing exactly what he wanted to say.

The
Boston Herald
carried the Church's denunciation of the Miracle Woman and those who believed in her, saying that people who attended her sessions or went for public healing were deluding themselves with false beliefs. The journalist quoted Father Eugene, her parish priest, and printed an official statement from the bishop.

Reading the report, Martha was dismayed. She felt that the priests were good men, men who had worked tirelessly for the Holy Roman Catholic Church for nearly all their lives and yet somehow along the way had lost their ability to believe in the healing power of the Lord God. Now they were condemning her because they knew no better and were afraid.

SARAH REGINA FORRESTER'S
christening party was held that Christmas. Martha was honoured to have been asked to be her godmother.

‘Who else could we have but you?' smiled Gina.

The baby, a tiny little thing, had had a rocky start but, after concerns for her first two months, had gradually picked up and was as bright and alert as any baby. Bob's other children had flown in to join them and were staying for the holiday period. Gina was thrilled to have the house for once filled with family.

A huge Christmas tree stood in the drawing room of Rockhall and Gina had arranged for a group of carol singers to come along and entertain her guests for an hour.

Martha smiled, renewing her acquaintance with Ted and Megan Harris, relieved that at least Mike hadn't been invited. Patrick had let slip to her that Mike had recently started dating one of the PAs in
his office and Martha was still trying to get used to the idea.

She mingled and moved around the room, not knowing many of the guests, feeling a little out of place as she sipped her champagne and kept an eye on her new god-daughter. She could see one or two people getting ready to approach her with their problems when she spotted Dan Kendrick in the doorway, his coat covered in snow. It was nice to see him, she thought, and smiled in his direction. Dan waved to her before he disappeared in another direction with Bob and a few of the men.

The buffet meal was delicious and Martha realized as she ate that the champagne was going to her head: godmothers were not supposed to get tipsy and disgrace themselves! Gina, with the baby in her arms, came over to join her.

‘She's so beautiful, Gina, and you and Bob are such good parents.'

‘Why, thank you, Martha! That's a sweet thing to say.'

As Gina went and got some food for herself, Martha held little Sarah, glad of the opportunity to play with the baby. Dan Kendrick suddenly appeared and squeezed in beside her.

‘Did she like her fairy music?' he joked.

‘I'm sure she did. I think she might be a bit of a dancer, see how those little toes and feet keep moving.'

Ten minutes later Gina came over to reclaim her daughter and show her around.

‘Have you had any more midnight walks?' Dan asked slowly.

Martha shook her head. ‘And have you had any more cheap fish suppers?'

‘Most definitely not!'

She flushed, feeling his eyes on her, suddenly awkward and shy in his company. As the party began to break up Dan offered to drive her home. Martha was relieved that she didn't have to try to order a cab as it was snowing heavily.

They drove home in silence, Martha watching the windscreen wipers of his Mercedes swish the falling snow backwards and forwards, Dan concentrating on the road.

‘This is it!' she said as they pulled up in Mill Street. Dan turned as if he was about to say something to her.

‘Would you like to come inside for a coffee or something?' She cringed, wondering how she had come out with such an inane sentence.

‘Well actually, Martha, I might. This snowfall looks set for a while and there's no point in freezing my butt off out here in the car waiting for it to ease off.'

He locked the car and followed her up to the front door, Martha putting on the lights and thanking heaven she'd left the place reasonably
tidy on her way out. She led the way into the kitchen and plugged in the kettle.