Run to Him (15 page)

‘Oh my gosh, you should have seen Sister Evangelista,’ Nellie exclaimed through a mouth full of the hot fruit bread. ‘She was running from the Priory with Daisy, clutching a parcel to her chest, and she looked as though she had seen a ghost. I don’t know who looked the most sick, her or Kitty. In a right state, she was.’

Kathleen and Alice exchanged a worried glance, which Nellie missed as she made her way to the door with a sneaky slice of the brack in her hand.

‘See yer later, alligator,’ she shouted as she closed the door and headed back to school.

‘Put Joseph in his pram,’ said Kathleen to Alice, ‘and let’s get over to Maura’s.’

Kathleen sensed that they were running out of time. They might need to act more quickly than she had thought.

Maura and Kathleen had already decided between them that Kitty should be told that she was pregnant, before they told her own father, Tommy. After all she had been through, she had the right to that.

Once Tommy had been told, a decision would have to be made. What in God’s name were they going to do about the dead priest’s bastard child?

Maura had hoped that maybe one day she would wake up and it would all have been nothing more than a nightmare.

As she walked into Kitty’s bedroom each morning, she crossed herself and prayed to the Virgin Mary for a miracle. The first thing she did, once Kitty was out of bed, was to pull back her blanket and look hopefully for a sign of blood on her sheet.

Father James had not destroyed her faith in her God. Father James was the devil himself. This she had recognized. Satan had tricked his way into her home.

Maura’s faith was the stronger for it. She would not let the devil win.

But the Virgin Mary never answered her prayers and as Maura pulled back the blanket every day, her heart sank into her boots.

There was a murdered priest, and his baby was growing in her daughter’s belly.

Could there be much worse to wake up to than that?

Wasn’t life hard enough as it was, trying to make ends meet and keep everyone happy? Declan wore his shoes out every week and Maura had no idea how she was going to manage to keep him in school. The sisters had asked to see her to talk about Malachi’s demon behaviour in class. Angela needed glasses. Niamh had what looked like the beginnings of Harry’s asthma. She had lent Peggy some of her family allowance and now might not have enough for her own family. Tommy would go mad indeed if Declan went without shoes because she had been too quick to lend to those who did not manage their money as well as she did.

And on top of all this, she now had something to deal with that eclipsed everything else. A problem so big, so vast, it was almost incomprehensible, so she pushed it firmly to the back of her mind each morning before her feet had even touched the floor.

Tommy would often wake and find her staring at the ceiling. Without speaking he would pull her into his arms and they would hold onto each other tightly.

Maura would weep into his chest and Tommy, blissfully unaware, had no idea that each day his wife was saving him from further heartache and anguish than that which already tormented him.

‘God, Tommy,’ Maura sobbed, ‘I was happy he took himself up the stairs to the kids’ bedroom to bless them, I even encouraged him. How can I live with meself, what kind of mother have I been? How could we have known he would follow her to the hospital?’

It was the same question every day. She knew the reassuring answer off by heart.

‘The very best, queen, the very best,’ Tommy would reply, swallowing down his resentment of Maura’s unquestioning acceptance of a priest he had never much liked.

The image of a gallows and a swinging noose burnt into his mind as he lay awake, holding Maura, and stared at the stars through the bedroom window.

Kathleen was all too well aware of the power of the Church and the impending crisis of Kitty’s pregnancy. No matter who had put that baby there, it was still a sin of the highest order. The fact that it was a priest’s bastard made the situation doubly worse and it would be Kitty who would be labelled the sinner.

There was no separation between the Catholic Church and the local neighbourhood. They were one and the same. The control of the community by the Church was absolute.

Maura had cried each time the subject of Kitty’s pregnancy was raised. Kathleen knew she had to allow her time to come to terms with what was a living nightmare, but now she would have to put her foot down. She was finding it hard to believe that Maura was unaware of the danger Kitty’s condition presented to them all.

‘If we don’t act quickly,’ said Kathleen to Alice as she took her coat down from the hook on the back of the kitchen door, ‘the hounds of hell will be chasing after us and I am not about to allow that to happen when we have other options.’

She fastened a headscarf over her curlers and held Joseph, whilst Alice reached for her own coat. Alice was a Protestant. The power and the ways of the Catholic Church were all a mystery to Alice, but she had learnt enough over the last few years to know that you didn’t argue with Nana Kathleen.

Sister Evangelista and her sisters of the Sacred Heart convent ran the school and sustained the children with messages of faith, obedience, guilt and fear.

Whilst the children were in school praying, each mother on the four streets attended mass at St Mary’s every single day, some twice, morning and evening. The hold of the Church and its grip on the community were unbreakable. A forgiving exterior hid a steadfast dogma. There was no escape.

Kathleen was relieved to find Maura alone in the kitchen with her latest baby and she appeared to be happy to see them both.

‘Oh, thank God it is ye two. I have told everyone I feel unwell, to try and stop the knocking on. I swear to God I am terrified of being in the company of the others and blurting out something that shouldn’t be said. My nerves are in pieces, Kathleen.’

Maura didn’t need to tell Kathleen that; she could see it for herself. She walked over and took the baby from Maura.

‘Is she fed?’ she asked, lifting the baby up to her face and blowing a raspberry at the same time.

‘Aye, she is,’ Maura replied, ‘and Kitty is in bed feeling like death.’

Kathleen shifted the baby onto one arm and, with her free hand, picked up the baby’s shawl from the top of her sleeping box. Expertly wrapping it around her, she took her outside to the pram in the yard. Moving Joseph over a little, she laid the baby next to him and then covered them both with the blanket.

‘Alice, love, take them both for a walk to the shops and give me a while with Maura, will ye now?’ she said.

Alice nodded. ‘Of course I will. How long shall I be?’

‘Give me half an hour and bring me back a packet of five Woodbines. I think we may all need one soon.’

As Alice passed through the back gate with the pram, Kathleen looked in through Maura’s window and saw her wiping her eyes with a handkerchief.

Holy Mary, there is more to come. How is she going to cope? thought Kathleen as she closed the gate behind Alice and moved back indoors to Maura.

When Maura was sitting down with a cup of tea, Kathleen began. It wasn’t often the Doherty house was quiet and Kathleen had to seize her moment.

‘Listen, Maura, Kitty’s abuse at the hands of a man of God will present us all with a terrible threat, so it will.’

Kathleen looked at Maura as she spoke, leaning forward so that she could lower her voice. Even with just the two of them in the room, Kathleen still felt the need to whisper.

‘Kitty’s pregnancy will lay bare Father James’s hypocrisy, Maura. It will reveal the truth, that our priest was an impostor, a despicable human being, not a man of God. But who will listen, Maura? Imagine if it weren’t Kitty, but Mrs Keating’s daughter. What would happen? Who would ye and Tommy have thought was to blame? Your precious Father James? Or the Keating girl? Would anyone talk to the Keatings again? And what would the Church do and the nuns? Would they support her, or do ye think the Keating girl would be labelled a liar and a whore overnight? Would the Keatings even stand by her or would they throw her out? And by God, Maura, here’s the worst of it. When Kitty’s belly starts to show weeks after the priest was murdered, Kitty becomes a liability. She becomes a motive. Do ye understand me? Kitty’s belly will point the finger at you and Tommy. Do you see what that means?’

Maura hadn’t said a word. She sat at the table looking at her hands, then began to sob.

‘My poor Kitty, she doesn’t stand a chance, does she? What in God’s name can we do?’

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About this Book

It is Christmas morning in 1964. For nurse Fionnuala Kennedy, it is work as usual. As she trudges through the cold streets to catch her bus, Fionnuala thinks of the secret which she has been keeping from her beloved mother and father – and of how on earth she is going to break it to them.

She promises herself that she will do it that very evening, when she gets back home. None of the hospital staff are expecting very much to disturb their routine _ it is Christmas Day, after all. And indeed, Fionnuala’s morning at the hospital begins quietly enough, but then all hell breaks loose, and she is faced with an emergency to rock her world to its foundations.

Reviews

T
HE
F
OUR
S
TREETS

‘Vigorous... vibrant... fast-paced. An addictive novel to be devoured at one sitting.’

Sunday Express

‘Powerful... engaging... cinematic.’

Ann Treneman,
The Times

‘I couldn’t put it down.’

Cristina Odone

About the Author

N
ADINE
D
ORRIES
grew up in a working-class family in Liverpool. She trained as a nurse, then followed with a successful career in which she established and sold her own business. She has been the MP for Mid-Bedfordshire since 2005 and has three daughters.

Connect with Nadine on Twitter,
@NadineDorriesMP
.

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