Miracle Woman (38 page)

‘Your dad and I had always intended taking you guys on a trip to see Ireland once you were old enough and I guess with all that's going on
right now this might be a real good time!' she explained, too scared to admit the truth. ‘I'm going to rent the house and hire a car and we can just take it easy and relax and maybe get to see a bit of the countryside.'

‘You're running away and trying to make us go with you,' argued Mary Rose. ‘Why can't I stay here in Easton for the summer with Dad?'

‘Because you're coming with me, that's why. Your dad will be working, and I'm not having you hang out all day on your own.'

‘When are we going?' asked Patrick.

‘As soon as possible, once I've made all the arrangements.'

‘What about school?'

‘I've cleared it with your teachers, Mary Rose. A few weeks discovering a new country is an education in itself.'

‘But, Mom, I can't take time out of school, you know that!'

‘I know, Patrick. You can finish off this semester in school and then come over to Ireland once you get your holidays. You can stay with your dad till then.'

Only Alice was excited about going away, talking about what she was going to take and what she was going to do over there.

Her mother came over for Sunday lunch and helped Martha to set the table and prepare the vegetables. Martha showed her the printout from
the internet of the house in the Wicklow hills she was renting.

‘That looks a nice place to spend the summer, pet. God knows you could do with a break after all you've been through this past few months!'

‘It reminds me a bit of when we were kids,' Martha admitted. ‘I guess even after a day or two I always felt I belonged there.'

‘Your father felt the same,' declared Frances Kelly. ‘He always intended ending his days back in Ireland, the two of us buying a retirement cottage in the old country and selling up here. That was his dream, you know.'

‘Poor old Dad.'

‘I'd thought of sending his ashes back to Cork when he died, but in truth I wanted to keep him here near me, near his family. Have a grave I could say the few prayers over. I'll really miss you,' her mother said.

‘You've got Annie and Jack and Brian and Lisa and Sean and Carrie!' Martha reminded her gently.

‘Aye, I know, but they're not you, dote. And how long are you going away for?'

‘A few months, maybe more, I'm not quite sure yet, Mom,' she admitted.

‘I could come visit.'

‘Of course, Mom, that would be great and the kids would love it!'

‘Bee's always saying she wants to go visit Ireland, take in the sights. It would be nice to have
someone travelling with me, show her the place I was born, come stay with you . . .'

Martha nodded.

‘You sure you want to go away?'

‘Yes, Mom, I'm sure.'

‘I'm going to miss you and the kids,' sighed Frances, trying not to cry.

‘And I'm going to really miss you too, Mom,' said Martha, holding her in her arms.

HENRY MADISON ROSE
early, showering and shaving quickly after his regular breakfast. The day was already overcast. He pulled on his clean white shirt, tweed jacket and fawn trousers. Moving slowly and stiffly, he cursed as he dropped his comb and was unable to bend to pick it up.

William was obviously tired; sleeping in like this was most unlike him but at least it gave Henry the opportunity to dress in peace.

His appointment at Mercy Hospital was for 10 a.m., and he had booked a cab from Jimmy Mulholland's local service, which would pick him up and drop him directly there. Celeste was due any minute and had promised to sit with William till he returned. There was no telling how long he'd be as probably he'd have to have an X-ray or one of those scan things and some blood tests done. The pain had eased for months following his visit to Martha, but of late it had begun to come back, dominating his waking and
sleeping hours. Last night had been particularly bad.

Checking himself in the mirror he decided he'd better go in and wake William, and have him up and dressed at least. Celeste would give him a bowl of Cheerios or Lucky Charms and a slice of toast when he was gone.

‘William! William! Come on, wake up,' he called, stepping into the room and reaching to open the curtains. His brother's huge frame was hunched up with the heavy comforter and sheet pulled almost up to his chin.

‘Come on, William, get up! You have to get washed and dressed, come on now!'

There was no response. His brother didn't move, lying perfectly still.

‘William!' he cajoled.

He was either fast asleep or being difficult, and Henry hoped it wasn't the latter. ‘William!' he said sharply. ‘Get up!'

Henry stood by the bedside and grabbed a hold of his shoulder, only then noticing how cold and stiff his brother lay. Apprehensively he reached forward to touch his face and realized at once that William was dead, a contented expression on his face. Just sleeping like when Henry had left him last night! There in the bed, he looked like the small boy he'd minded and cared for most of his life. Aware of the ringing of his doorbell, he went to open it and led Celeste to the bedroom where his brother lay. He heard her gasp, as she saw that
William was gone. His friend and neighbour put her plump arms around him and told him that everything was going to be all right, everything was going to be fine: both were grateful in their own way for William's ease of passing.

MARTHA HAD DRIVEN
up to West Hartford to say goodbye to Thea. She was surprised to see her using a walking frame, standing among a rich border of pinks and lavender.

‘I can't do it for too long,' Thea joked, showing off, ‘but at least I'm on my feet for a few minutes every day.'

She listened carefully as Martha told her about going to Ireland and not really knowing when she'd come back. ‘Lord, I'm sure going to miss you,' she smiled.

‘My kids think I'm running away,' admitted Martha. ‘They don't see that I've got to make changes for all our sakes.'

‘Are you happy about it?' asked Thea, the first person to enquire about her own happiness. Why, she had barely thought about it! Martha looked around the haven of peace that Thea had created for herself and her family, wishing for something similar.

‘Yeah, I guess I am!' she smiled.

Martha went into the bedroom, helping Thea to lie down flat as for the last time she laid her hands on her. Martha could feel her fingers vibrate as she worked from chakra to chakra, and concentrated energy and light on the dark spots. Thea's life force was stronger even than on her last visit, and Martha could feel her body fighting back against the illness that had almost destroyed it.

Back outside they watched as Erik and the boys kicked a football down the bottom of the garden, the boys shouting and screaming at each other when anyone tried to score a goal.

‘Thea, I'm sorry. I feel so guilty about going away and leaving you.'

‘Martha, don't be! I should be dead by now by my doctor's reckoning, and yet because of you I'm here. Watching my sons play in the sunlight for another while. Each hour, each day, each week is precious to me and that's what you've given me.'

‘I feel your body is trying to fight back against the cancer,' said Martha, ‘but you need to take it easier so you don't tire and weaken yourself, and let the body gradually heal and renew itself. Promise!'

‘I promise,' smiled Thea as they both said goodbye.

Martha had all the tickets and passports to hand, the bags packed and ready to go in the hall.
Alice's backpack was stuffed with such an assortment of teddies and toys that Martha hoped it wouldn't burst on the way.

Mary Rose was playing the drama queen, having loud conversations with her girlfriends, bitching about going away and how boring it was going to be.

Dan Kendrick had come to visit her the weekend before, the two of them doing nothing but talking and walking, grabbing a quick bite to eat before going back to his hotel room to make love.

‘Martha, you know it's bad enough for me to have to fly halfway across the States just to see you, without you adding another six hours' flying time on to it!'

She was going to miss him so much it didn't bear thinking about. He'd made his position clear, telling her exactly how he felt about her and what he wanted from their relationship. Martha was the one needing time to think.

She'd said goodbye to Evie the night before, the two of them staying up till late, trying to make sense of all that had happened and wondering what the future might bring. Martha knew that the friendship between them would never change, no matter what, or no matter where they were in the world!

She checked the tickets one more time. Mike was driving them to the airport, and was minding the house while they were away. Arriving late
he had to throw the bags in the back of the car and put this foot down to get them to Logan's busy departure terminal, then helped to carry their luggage and get the three of them checked in for their transatlantic flight. Alice clung to her dad like a little monkey as they said goodbye, with Mike and Patrick promising to behave and take care of each other as they walked them to the gateway.

Martha swallowed hard, hoping she was making the right choice as she boarded the Aer Lingus flight to Ireland, the familiar green shamrock painted on the side of the aircraft and the air hostesses in their green uniforms bringing back a rush of memories of her and her brothers, like a load of jack-in-the-boxes, going home to visit with their parents. Martha had to pretend to read the in-flight magazine as she tried to control her emotions.

Lara was in the office checking layouts when the phone rang. It was her sister, sounding hysterical. Lara tried to make some sense of what she was trying to tell her.

‘Ben's in hospital!'

‘What?'

‘He was sick yesterday and when his room-mate went to wake him for college this morning he realized he was really bad. He's here in Mass General Hospital, Lara, and they say he's got some form of meningitis.'

Lara rapidly went through a mental list of what she knew of the disease, her mind numbed with a desperate sense of foreboding.

‘He's unconscious!' sobbed her sister. ‘They said they're doing everything but his kidney and liver are failing.'

Lara automatically switched off her computer and threw the files she was working on into the desk, grabbing her jacket off the chair, racing out through the newsroom and towards the elevator.

In the car, her brain began to function again and she flicked through her Filofax, pounding the number she wanted into her cellphone. Two, three times she called, but there was no response. Dread crawled through her veins as she drove, Boston's traffic moving at a snail's pace along the network of city streets as she cursed the roadworks and the excavations of the Big Dig. She remembered the small craft store in Easton, frantically trying to conjure up its name as she hit the button for directory enquiries, the operator putting her straight through.

‘Hello, is Martha McGill there?' she enquired.

‘Sorry, who's calling?'

‘Is Martha there? Listen, we've met before and I really need to speak to her right now.'

‘I'm sorry, Martha's not here.'

‘When will she be back? I've left messages on her machine at home. It's urgent!'

‘I'm sorry, but Martha doesn't work here any more. She's gone away.'

‘Gone away! When will she be back?' she demanded.

‘Who is that?'

‘It's Lara Chadwick,' she said, embarrassed. ‘I'm a journalist.'

‘I know who you are,' said the voice on the other end of the line. ‘Martha's left Boston, and has moved away for a few months, and to be honest, I've absolutely no idea when she intends coming back.'

‘Do you have a number where I can reach her?'

‘No!' replied Evie Hayes. ‘Martha and her family are living overseas. I'm sorry, but I can't help you.'

Lara clenched the steering wheel, thinking of her nephew and his fight for life and how fate had decided she would be the one not only to meet the worker of miracles, his possible saviour, but also to drive her away.

THE HOUSE IN
Wicklow was everything she'd hoped it would be: an extended farm cottage on over two acres of land, close to the mountains with the sea and a beach of gold only a few minutes' drive away. The inside of the house was clad in stripped pine, with simple chairs and couches and a wood fire with a basket of turf and logs for if the evenings got cold.

Opening the back kitchen door she could see for miles, the view making her smile despite herself and lifting her spirit.

The kids each had a bedroom to themselves, Mary Rose's with a narrow gabled window that looked over their fields, Alice's sun filled and to the back where a silver lake glinted in the distance; the room overlooking the front path to the house was assigned to be Patrick's. Alice had made herself at home straight away, unpacking her toys and teddies and standing them in rows on top of the bed and the windowsill. Bored, the girls
had complained at first about the archaic television in the corner, which only gave them four channels and which if the weather was misty barely seemed to work at all, but by the end of the first week she'd noticed they rarely bothered watching it.

Martha loved the peace of the place and felt totally at home in its almost familiar landscape.

Seamus O'Gorman the letting agent had also organized a car for her through Delahunt's, the local garage. The car was eight years old but seemed as if it would go for ever along the bumpy country roads. Seeing she was on her own with the children, the sixty-year-old grandfather had bent over backwards to advise her on the best places to go and where to shop, and what to do in case of emergencies.