Promised Land (7 page)

Liam’s head dropped back against the chair and he began to snore heavily.

Ella watched her brother, his mouth wide open. He was deep in sleep and not likely to stir all night. Asleep, he reminded her of what he’d looked like before, when they were younger. She listened to him for a while before getting up and going to bed. The kitchen got cold during the night and she hoped he bloody well froze.

Chapter Seven

LIAM MADE NO
mention of their conversation over the next few days, whether because he didn’t remember it or had deliberately chosen not to discuss the matter any further she couldn’t tell. Annoyed with him, she broached the subject again.

‘Liam, I’m willing to give you nearly all the money Daddy left me if you give me a few acres for my own. Sell me some of the land! God knows I’m the one who’s worked this plae and you know by rights I deserve to own a piece of it. Daddy should never have done what he did, he should have left it between us. He promised me this farm, and if he hadn’t got sick …’

She could see him staring at her, cutting himself off from her emotionally, treating her like a stranger.

‘I told you already, Ella, that I’m not willing to split the farm and break it up piecemeal. I’m honouring our father’s will. You keep your part of your inheritance, keep your money, for I don’t want it!’

‘You bastard! You know you’re going to end up taking out a mortgage with the bank, they’ll end up owning the place. My money is as good as theirs!’

‘I’ll deal with the bank when I have to and that’s none of your business, Ella!’

‘Why won’t you sell it to me? A few acres, Liam, that’s all I want. If I’d inherited the farm, I’d have seen you and Carmel right.’

He laughed at her. ‘Sure you would! You want a bit of land for yourself and that Flanagan fellow you’re so mad about. I bet he’s not quite so much in love now that your situation has changed, am I right!’ he sneered.

The palm of her hand caught him with a stinging slap on the face.

He caught her tightly by the wrist, furious. ‘Remember Ella, Daddy left me the farm. He had his reasons and I’m just carrying out his wishes and there’s not a thing you can do about it!’

She felt like flinging herself at him and wiping that smug look off his face. A few acres would have been enough for herself and Sean, the start they needed. The only reason Liam had been left the farm was because he was a man. Her father’s son! She cursed her father for his stupidity and prejudice.

The more she thought about it, the more determined she was not to give up Fintra without a fight. She didn’t trust her father’s solicitor to act in
her
interest, and asked her uncle to help if he could.

As a favour to her Uncle Jack set up a meeting with a solicitor friend of his in Waterford, driving her over to meet Vincent O’Malley at his home on the Dunmore East Road. The solicitor studied Uncle Jack’s copy of the will, reading it line by line, and making notes. Ella was not sure if she should ask him questions, or just sit and wait for his opinion.

‘Was your father in good mental health at the time that he made this will?’

‘Of course he was.’

‘More’s the pity!’ murmured Mr O’Malley.

He asked her all sorts of personal questions, trying to discover more about her father and brother and her relationship with them.

‘Miss Kennedy,’ he announced after over an hour of deliberation, ‘it would be foolish of me to pursue this case, and even more foolish of me to let you do so. Your father was of sound mind and in good health when he made provision for you and your brother. He did nothing untoward in passing his estate to his son. That was after all his prerogative. By law he did not have to provide for you, an adult daughter. Jack, I’m sorry but there is nothing to be done in this case, nothing to be gained from going to court.’

Ella sat on the plump couch listening to his opinion, devastated by his words, and finally accepting the fact that Fintra was gone from her,
and
there was absolutely nothing that she could do about it.

Uncle Jack insisted that she come back and stay in Rathmullen, and truth to tell she was glad not to have to face Liam and Carmel after getting such bad news. She’d already brought a change of clothes with her, and everything else she needed she could borrow from her cousins over the weekend.

‘You’re as welcome as the flowers in May, Ella pet,’ chuckled her aunt, leading her up upstairs to the bedroom she would share with her cousin Marianne. ‘You may as well have Kitty’s bed as there’s no chance of her coming home for the weekend. She seems to be having much too good a time in Dublin.’

Ella smiled to herself. She’d already heard plenty of stories about her cousin’s behaviour in Dublin. Apparently she’d broken her boyfriend John Prendergast’s heart when she’d left Kilgarvan, and promises to remain faithful to him had long since been forgotten as Kitty went from one attachment to another. She was such a flirt, thought Ella as she hung up her things in Kitty’s still-crowded section of the wardrobe and put her nightdress under the pillow. Kitty would never let anyone or anything get her down for long and Ella envied her that quality.

She ran downstairs to join her aunt and cousins in the large farmhouse kitchen where Marianne
was
curled up in a corner with her long thin legs tucked under and a worried frown on her face as she read the latest Agatha Christie novel. Her eighteen-year-old cousin was a real bookworm and you could almost tell how good or bad a book was by her involvement and the expression on her fine features and the way she curled her fingers in her short fair hair when she got to a good bit. Slaney returned from her convent school and dramatically tumbled her school books out on the table.

‘Sister Angela wants us to do an essay on the life of our favourite saint, it’s such a pain!’

‘Who are you going to do?’ quizzed Ella, curious.

‘They’re all awful! Utterly awful!’

‘What about St Patrick, our patron saint,’ suggested her mother.

‘Mammy, half the class are doing St Patrick!’

‘Well what about St Brigid then?’

Slaney tossed her mass of wavy strawberry blond hair, which was caught in two bunches. She was quite an actress and always ended up the centre of attention; Ella supposed it was because she was the youngest in the family and they all spoilt her rotten.

‘I want to do someone interesting, not just another boring bloody saint! There must be one or two!’

‘Slaney Kavanagh, I’ll not have that filthy language at my table, do you hear me.’

The three girls looked at each other suppressing their giggles. Aunt Nance was known by the whole
family
for her own use of rich language.

Ella laughed and relaxed. It was so good to be back at Rathmullen, safe with her cousins and family. The Kavanaghs had become her second family when her mother died. At eight years of age she hadn’t understood the explanations about septicaemia and blood poisoning, only the fact that God had robbed her of the person she loved the most in the world. Her aunt had done all in her power to provide some of the support and love and care that she so desperately needed. Teresa, the eldest, had become like a big sister to her, always minding her and making the rest of the girls accept and be nice to her.

Ella was glad to give a hand preparing the meal. Aunt Nance was a great cook and always hoped that her good example would somehow or other rub off on her five daughters and their cousin. Ella was sent scurrying to the pantry to search for cherries and raisins to add to the fruit loaf that her aunt was mixing.

‘Have a stir for luck!’ urged her aunt. ‘Go on!’

Ella didn’t feel very lucky at the moment but knew how superstitious her aunt was. Besides, she might get to lick the spoon at the end. Grabbing the wooden spoon she closed her eyes and wished hard. Her wish was secret and her aunt knew better than to ask. Satisfied, her aunt took over.

The peace of the kitchen was disturbed by the arrival of her uncle and cousin Brian for tea.

‘Good evening, ladies!’ joked her uncle. ‘Marianne, get up and throw a log on the fire and let your poor old dad sit down for a bit of warmth.’

Marianne, putting down her book, obliged.

Brian disappeared off out to the scullery to wash his hands. Ella was very fond of her male cousin. Although he was very different from his sisters, much more reserved, shy even, he still possessed the Kavanagh sense of humour and an easy-going manner. At twenty-five, he was tall and lanky with a mop of brown hair, the exact same colour as her uncle’s, his cheeks constantly ruddy from working outside in all weathers. He was a born farmer and she knew how proud her uncle was of him.

The six of them ate tea together, the butter from the hot potato scones running down Ella’s chin.

‘Teresa’ll be along after. That nice young man that works in the bank is bringing her for tea to that new hotel in town.’

Slaney gave a big wink, which Marianne pointedly ignored.

‘How is Kitty?’ asked Ella, deliberately changing the subject.

‘Kitty is Kitty!’ sighed Uncle Jack. ‘She’ll never change.’

‘And thank God for that!’ added her aunt loyally. ‘Kitty is having a wonderful time in Dublin. Her job in Lennon’s is going really well.
She
said that Mr Lennon himself promised her a raise if her sales continued. She’s an excellent saleswoman, you know!’

Ella could imagine that Kitty could charm the birds off the trees if she put her mind to it.

‘Well hopefully I won’t have to keep on funding her then,’ added her uncle, cutting into his sausages.

‘Jack, you knew she had to pay a hefty deposit on that new flat of hers. You wouldn’t have your daughter living in a tenement for heaven’s sake!’

After the tea was cleared away Brian slipped out to meet his girlfriend Anna, who lived about a mile and a half away. She was a pretty little thing and all the family were fond of her. The rest of them settled down to play cards, twenty-one and whist, shouting and laughing at each other. Looking around her Ella realized that this was probably the first time that she had relaxed in weeks. She fell asleep listening to Marianne describe the plot of the novel she was reading and the various ways of poisoning someone and not being detected. Snuggled up in the bed she felt safe and comfortable and slept.

She didn’t wake till midday the next day.

‘Why didn’t you wake me?’ she groaned, embarrassed by such a show of laziness.

‘Mammy said you looked tired, and that she’d murder me if I woke you up. Marianne and Teresa
and
I have been tiptoeing around the place all morning like a couple of cats,’ sighed Slaney.

‘You look a lot better,’ declared her aunt. ‘You needed the rest, sure back home you’re up at cock’s crow every morning, working.’

Ella smiled. Teresa arrived and hugged her warmly. With her shoulder-length dark wavy hair and large blue eyes and cupid’s bow lips, she was a stunning younger version of Aunt Nance.

‘How are you, Ella? How are you really? I still can’t believe what Uncle Martin did!’ Teresa stared at her. She and her older cousin had always been close, and she remembered that when she was a small girl it had been Teresa who had made Kitty and Connie be kind to her and let her play. Good sweet Teresa had always looked out for her. Ella just squeezed her cousin close. Teresa would know exactly how she felt.

‘Did you talk to the solicitor yourself? Maybe there’s something you can do to change things.’

‘No,’ she sighed, ‘there’s not a damn thing I can do, believe me.’

‘Teresa, don’t go upsetting Ella! God knows she’s had enough to cope with over the past few weeks.’

Teresa looked at her mother, and giving one of her big smiles dropped the subject.

‘Tell me about school?’

Her cousin taught in the small local national school about two miles away. She loved her job and was adored by all the children roundabouts.

‘Oh Ella, I’ve had such a week. I got some of the children to bring in frogspawn a few weeks back.’

‘Frogspawn!’

‘For Nature Study. Well, we had it in jars on the shelf in the classroom and we watched as it changed to tadpoles, and then I don’t know what happened, whether it was that the weather got warmer or some of the water had evaporated, but when I went into the classroom on Tuesday morning, they’d all grown and hatched or whatever you call it, and I had all these awful things hopping all over the place. The children went wild, trying to catch them and put them back in jam jars and get them out from under the desks. Oh Ella, it was just awful and of course the principal Mr Maguire stepped in to see what all the fuss was about. I was mortified. We had to gather them all up and go across the fields with them and put them in McMullen’s pond. Then to cap it all Old McMullen’s son, Finbarr, the one who works in the bank, came along. It was the most embarrassing thing that has happened so far in my teaching career.’

‘And he asked you out!’

Teresa blushed. ‘I know, can you believe it! If it wasn’t for the frogspawn we might never have met.’

‘Is he tall, dark and handsome?’ giggled Slaney, interrupting their conversation.

‘That’s for me to know and you to discover, Miss Nosy Parker.’

Slaney retreated in a huff, leaving them together.

‘Good riddance!’ murmured Teresa under her breath.

‘Is he nice?’ urged Ella.

Teresa’s eyes shone and the dimples in her cheeks became visible, which was answer enough. Ella was glad for her cousin. She’d had a bad letdown two years before when the fellah she had been going out with had suddenly married someone else.

The weekend passed too quickly, with Aunt Nance cooking her usual Sunday lunch of roast beef, roast potatoes, carrots, cauliflower, horseradish sauce and Yorkshire pudding. They all ate far too much, including a large portion of queen of puddings at the end. Connie and her husband Paddy had joined them. Their six-month-old baby Sean Patrick became the focus of everyone’s attention.

‘God bless him for he’s such a fine healthy grandson!’ murmured her aunt proudly.

Ella looked wistfully at her cousin, who was only two years older than her and yet already had a husband and a child and a farm to run, all the things that she had hoped and planned for herself. With her dark hair and sturdy build Constance was the image of her mother and Ella sensed she and Paddy would likely want a large brood of children running around their farm.