The Delaney Woman (7 page)

Kellie stepped inside a small corner shop and walked to the counter. A young woman with a lovely face and a serious overbite smiled and approached her. “What can I get for you, miss?”

Before Kellie could answer, the woman's eyes widened. “Do I know you?”

“I don't think so,” Kellie replied. “I've only just come for a holiday. I'm staying at Tom Whelan's lodging house.”

“Of course,” the woman said. “I see that now. For a minute I thought—” She smiled brightly. “What would you like?”

“Tea, please.” The shop was empty and the woman looked ready to burst with what she had been about to say. “My name is Kellie Delaney. Would you like to share a pot with me?”

“Irene Donaldson here, and I'd love to.”

When they were settled across from each other with a pot of steaming tea between them, Irene spoke up. “I thought you were Claire Whelan. The two of you could be sisters, but now I see that you're not that similar after all.”

“What was she like?”

“Lovely to look at,” Irene said promptly, “but she wasn't so lovely in other ways. She was very hard- headed so it was difficult to be her friend, even when Tom was in the Maze.” Irene shook her head. “We prayed for her down there in that English prison. Her mam, bless her soul, lit a candle every day and bought Masses so she'd be treated right. When Mrs. Whelan brought back the little girl, there wasn't a dry eye in town. We never forgot it.”

Kellie's cheeks burned. “Why was Tom in the Maze?”

“They were rounding everyone up in those days, anyone connected at all. I don't believe Tom Whelan was a saint, but he wasn't as bad as some of them.”

“Where is his wife?”

“She's in Maidenstone Prison in England.” Irene's voice dropped and she spoke in a hushed whisper. “She was sent up for the murder of an Englishman, a fancy lord. They gave her a life sentence. She hasn't seen her husband or daughter in seven years.”

“Why not? Prisons allow visitors.”

“I don't think she and Tom are married any more. He didn't approve of her activities. Tom came back from the Maze a changed man. All the spirit was beaten out of him, along with the hate. I don't think Tom Whelan could hate anyone again.”

Either that or he was a very good actor. Kellie changed the subject. “What time does the hardware open?”

“Geary's always opens at half past nine,” said Irene. “He's regular as clockwork.” She laughed. “Unusual for an Irishman, but then the store is as well. You'll see when you go inside.” She gathered their cups, brushed the sugar from the table and stood. “Thanks for the chat but I'd better be getting back to work. I'll be starting the lunch stew in the back. There's no charge for the tea. Let me know if you need anything else.”

“I will. Thank you for the tea and the conversation.”

“My pleasure.”

Alone again, Kellie stared out of the window. Slowly, Banburren came alive. Trucks stopped in front of shops and unloaded their wares, completely oblivious to the traffic backing up behind them. Peat smoke drifted from chimneys, gray against a grayer sky. Women brandishing umbrellas and men in wool caps nodded, called out and stopped each other on the streets. Meaty smells wafted from pubs offering luncheon specials. Diligent clerks washed windows, set out menus written in chalk and swept porches clean.

Kellie was enchanted with the normalcy of a small Irish village readying itself for a normal day.
It was so safe, so sane.

“I'll be off now,” she called out to Irene.

The woman popped her head over the swinging door. “Don't be a stranger,” she said.

Kellie smiled. “Thank you for the welcome, Irene. It means a great deal to me.”

Irene blushed. “Go along now. I've work to do.”

Geary's Hardware was like nothing Kellie had ever seen in Ireland. More warehouse than store, it was an organizational miracle arranged thematically, with garden supplies on one end and raw lumber on the other and rows and rows in between.

An older man with a blue apron approached. “May I help you, miss?”

Kellie tilted her head so the hair swung across her cheek. “I'm looking for bookshelves and a desk.”

“This way.” He motioned for her to follow.

She walked a few paces behind.

“Here we are.” He pointed to an aisle filled with a myriad of bookshelves. “When you're done choosing, let me know and I'll show you the desks.”

“Thank you.”

He frowned. “You're not local, are you?”

Kellie shook her head. “No. I'm staying at Tom Whelan's.”

“I didn't think you'd been here before. I'm a newcomer myself. The Mrs. and I moved here five years ago. We came to visit and decided to stay.” He extended his hand. “I'm Cormac O'Donnell.”

Kellie repressed a laugh. Only in Ireland was one considered a newcomer after five years. She took his hand. “Kellie Delaney.”

“Call out when you're ready.”

“Thank you. I will.”

Methodically, Kellie ruled out the most expensive woods as well as those needing complete assembly. She didn't know the exact moment she became aware of the woman standing at the end of the aisle staring at her. She wouldn't have noticed her at all, except that she stood completely, unselfconsciously still, all her attention focused on Kellie.

Intrigued, Kellie turned to look at her. She was a small, slim woman, dark hair peppered with gray, tight skin and beautiful bone structure. She looked familiar. Did she know her? “Hello,” she said.

“You must be Kellie.”

“Yes. How did you know?”

“Tom described you. I'm Susan Whelan.”

She was Tom's mother.

“I'm sorry I haven't met you before this. Every time I've come, you're out. Are you settling in all right?”

“Yes, thank you.” Kellie smiled. “I was hoping to meet you.”

“And I you. Tom has said lovely things about you.”

“About me?” Kellie was incredulous. “Surely you're mistaken.”

“Not at all. It isn't every day that an attractive, unmarried woman moves into Banburren and sets up housekeeping with my son.”

Kellie reddened. “It isn't like that at all.”

“I'm joking with you, love. Seriously, how are you doing?”

“Everyone's been wonderful to me, especially Tom.”

“What do you think of Heather?”

“She's priceless. The two of you have done a wonderful job raising her. Tom is a natural father.”

Susan raised an eyebrow. “Has he told you about the child's mother?”

“No. I understand she left the family.”

“In a manner of speaking. Claire wields enormous influence even when she's not around. Remind me to tell you about her when you have a spare afternoon. You should know your competition.”

“Mrs. Whelan, Tom offered me a job, that's all,” Kellie protested, uncomfortable with the direction of the woman's thoughts. She very much wanted to tap Susan's brain, but without the obvious implication.

Susan's blue-green eyes sparkled. “You've only just arrived, lass. Our wedding festival's coming up. Stranger things have happened.”

“I won't be here that long.”

“Will you be here tonight?”

“Yes,” said Kellie, “of course.”

“Then I'll expect you for dinner. We're all looking forward to it.”

“
All?
What does that mean? Who else will be there?”

“Why the whole family, love. Tom hasn't expressed interest in a woman since Claire was sent away.”

“We wouldn't suit, Mrs. Whelan. We disagree on everything.”

Susan smiled her blinding smile and changed the subject. “Geary's has wonderful bulbs. It's time to plant if you want them for spring. I'll look forward to seeing you tonight.”

The woman's energy was all around her. Kellie felt electrified, empowered. “I won't be here for spring,” she whispered to the space where Susan had been.

K
ellie was slow to shower, to shampoo and dry her hair, slower than usual to dress and apply the small amount of makeup she wore. Outside her closed bedroom door, she could hear Heather and Tom conversing, his voice low and measured, Heather's higher, vibrant, eager. It was past time. They were waiting for her. Her fingers were thick and clumsy, unable to fit the buttons into the holes of her jumper. She couldn't make them move faster.

With shaking hands, she brushed her hair away from her face and stared into the mirror. What had she been thinking? A family party. Tom's family, together under one roof, all of them looking at her, asking questions, matchmaking, asking about her life, where she was from, why she was here. She shuddered. The thought made her physically ill.

“Kellie.” Heather's voice was outside the door, impatient, excited over the idea of a party.

Kellie cleared her throat. “I'm nearly ready, Heather. Give me another minute.”

She heard the child's steps on the floorboards, walking away. Wetting her lips, Kellie smoothed her hair one last time, picked a piece of lint from the front of her skirt and stood. It was only a dinner. It would be over in a few hours. The first time meeting people was always the hardest. Her anxiety would ease with a glass of wine and a bit of food. Tom and Heather would be with her. Susan had invited her. No one suspected she was there under false pretenses.

She walked into the sitting room. “Hello,” she said, “I'm ready.”

Tom's head was bent over Heather's. At the sound of her voice they looked up. Heather clapped her hands. “Da said you wouldn't want to go.”

Kellie's smile didn't waver. “He did, did he?”

Heather nodded.

“Why wouldn't I want to go?”

Tom shrugged, unwillng or unable to defend his words. “It hardly matters now.” He picked up his pipe case, walked to the door and held it open. “Shall we?”

Kellie took Heather's hand in her own. They both wore gloves. Even though she couldn't feel the child's skin beneath the wool, the contact gave her courage. “I haven't been to a party in a very long time,” she confessed. “My nerves are a bit punchy.”

“Gran's parties are jolly,” said Heather. “Perhaps she'll have pie.”

“Will everyone come?” Kellie asked casually.

“Everyone who's still here,” replied Tom, “and everyone who loves a session. My sisters will show, and their husbands.” He hesitated. “I assume you heard what happened to my brothers, Martin and James. This town thrives on gossip.”

“Yes. A terrible tragedy. I'm so sorry.”

“Aye. It was, but they knew what was coming. Anyone who refuses to listen and continues to travel in dangerous circles is walking the edge.”

Kellie looked thoughtful.

“Is anything wrong?” he asked.

“No, nothing at all.”

Susan's house was rich with smells of roasting meat, fresh bread and cinnamon. From the porch, Kellie could hear laughter and conversation. Her hands were blocks of ice and her smile felt garish and unnatural, as if someone had pasted it across her face. She wanted nothing more than to run in the opposite direction, as far from Banburren as it was possible to run.

“You're nervous,” Tom said, surprised. “They're just people. Rather pleasant ones if I do say so.”

“I've never been comfortable in crowds,” she whispered back.

They stepped through the door. All at once the room was silent. Even the children playing a board game on the floor near the fire stopped their conversation in midsentence. All eyes focused on Kellie and then, as if the gathering had received some silent communication, they turned away and began to talk once again. Her cheeks burned. They were insufferably rude. Even Heather had defected, in search of her grandmother in the kitchen. If this was what passed for manners in the Whelan family, she was better out of it. A surge of adrenaline rushed through her veins. She lifted her chin. If need be, she would wait here all night until someone spoke to her.

Tom's hand slipped beneath her elbow. Gently, he maneuvered her into a small group seated near the fireplace. “Kate, Tim, say hello to Kellie,” he said.

Kate, a black-haired, green-eyed beauty smiled warmly and held out her hand. “Welcome, Kellie. It's lovely to have you.”

Some of the tension left Kellie's shoulders. “Thank you. It's wonderful to be here.”

“Kate is from Dublin,” Tom offered. “She teaches at Heather's school.”

A slim blond with cool blue eyes spoke up. “I'm Maggie, Tom's sister.”

“Hello, Maggie,” Kellie said politely.

“Tom has never brought home a woman before.”

“He's not bringing one home now, at least not in the context to which you're referring,” she replied quickly.

They stared at her in astonishment.

She blushed at her rudeness, took a deep breath and resolved that nothing else tonight would rouse her temper.

“What is it that you do, Kellie?” the lovely Kate asked.

“I'm a teacher, on leave.”

“What are you doing in Banburren?” It was Maggie again. “Were you sacked?”

“For Christ sake, Maggie, give over.” Tom shook his head. “Where have your manners gone?”

“No,” said Kellie. “I wasn't sacked. My reasons for leaving were personal, but you can rest assured your children are safe with me. I didn't molest anyone or anything like that. I intend to return to my position and will definitely be welcomed with open arms.” She wanted to strangle the woman. Instead she turned her back to her. “What level do you teach, Kate?”

“Sixth,” replied Kate. “I love it. It's what keeps me here in Banburren, that and the Whelans. They're my family now. I've no one left in Dublin.”

“It's a lovely school. It must be wonderful to teach there.”

“Yes.” Kate nodded. “We've no problem.”

“Problem?”

“You know. The Catholic-Protestant thing.”

“I'm glad to hear it If only everyone could forget.”

“We can all raise a glass to that sentiment,” said a sandy-haired man who stood beside Maggie. “We never got over James and Martin dying the way they did. It took the rebel spirit out of us. Now we're staid old men and women.” He wrapped his arms around Maggie. “Aren't we, love?”

“Speak for yourself,” said Maggie. “I'll not admit to being old.”

He winked at Kellie. “Why, then, all that pulling at your eyes and patting the soft spot under your chin every morning?”

“I do no such things, Danny Sheehan.” His wife slapped his arm playfully. “Shame on you for spying on me.”

“Now, love, you wouldn't be denying me a good laugh, would you?”

“What will Kellie think of us, you with your mouth flapping and me vain as a queen.”

“She'll think we have a sense of humor.”

Kellie laughed. She was beginning to relax. “I'll check and see if Susan needs help in the kitchen.”

Conscious of eyes watching her back, Kellie walked down the hallway and stood at the entrance to a well-lit kitchen. Susan stood at the sink, speaking to Heather. Kellie stepped back into the hallway before they could see her and breathed deeply. She placed both hands on the wall, bracing herself. She didn't particularly want to isolate herself in the kitchen with Tom's mother but the room filled with curious people was too much.

It was Heather who saw her first. “Kellie, look at the cake Gran made. She said I can ice it as soon as it cools.”

Kellie walked into the room, leaned over the cake and sniffed appreciatively. “It's lovely and it will be even more lovely when it's iced.” She touched the little girl's bright hair.

Heather skipped across the floor. She stopped at the door. “I'm going to play with Sam and Willie. Call me when the cake's cool.”

Susan wiped her hands on a towel. “I'll call you the very minute it's ready.” She smiled. “Did you need something, Kellie?”

“I wondered if you could use some help. It's a big crowd you're feeding.”

The woman's eyes were bright and probing. “I'm accustomed to it but I imagine it's hard on you to meet them like this, all at once.”

“A bit.”

Susan opened her mouth to speak, changed her mind and then changed it again. “I invited them all tonight because I wanted you to be done with it, to recognize everyone if you see them on the street. They're naturally curious and protective of Tom. Tonight will be awkward for you but then it will be over. Do you understand what I'm saying, Kellie?”

These people were impossible. She smiled politely. “Thank you for caring, but you've misunderstood. Tom and I are acquaintances,” she reminded the woman. “That's all. There's nothing more between us.”

“Perhaps that's all there is for you, but I can tell you he hasn't asked me to cook a meal for a woman since he married Claire. What do you think that means?”

Kellie felt as if her skin was peeled back and every nerve exposed.
Be calm
, she told herself.
Honesty is always best. Be honest whenever you can
. “I know that for some reason you think Tom needs a wife. Perhaps he does, but it won't be me. I grew up in a community like Banburren and it simply isn't going to happen. I can't live here. I don't belong. Do you see that?”

Susan was silent for a long time. Finally she spoke. “You're a far better woman than the one who left him seven years ago. I can see it and apparently Tom does as well, to his credit.” She smiled brilliantly. “Heather tells me you cook. How are you at peeling praties?”

Dinner was surprisingly pleasant. Kellie was seated between Maggie, who'd obviously called a truce, and the warm and lovely Kate. Eileen, another sister completely caught up in her infant son, sat across the table beside her husband, a large man who had the thick hands of a farmer. Mary Catherine, the youngest of the Whelans and the first to graduate from university, kept the entire family entertained with tales of her new job as a chemist in nearby Ballybofey. Tom was at the other end of the table near his mother and the children. Somewhere between the soup and the lamb, Kellie began to enjoy herself. The conversation was lively and the people far more decent and warmhearted than she'd expected under the circumstances.

“Tom tells us you've a degree in literature,” said Kate after the plates were cleared away and the two of them had moved back to the sitting room. “Perhaps, if you'll be staying awhile, you'd be interested in helping out at the library while you're here. The librarian is a friend of mine and I've heard they need someone. The position doesn't pay well but it's something.”

Kellie looked across the table at Tom. He must have told them he was working her too hard. “It sounds lovely. Shall I call your friend?”

“I'll tell her I've spoken with you. That way she'll expect you.”

“Thank you, Kate.” Kellie was humbled and ashamed. She hadn't expected such complete acceptance so soon. These people were lovely, too lovely to lie to.

“You're welcome. I remember what it felt like after I'd left Dublin. If it hadn't been for Maggie and Eileen I don't know how I would have managed. Banburren is a lovely place but it's a small town. Even though I had James, there wasn't a great deal to do until I took a job. Now, with James gone, I'm even more grateful.”

“What made you stay on?”

Kate tilted her head and the shining mass of black hair swung across her cheek. “I don't know, really. I had to finish the term and then I was offered another contract and I took it. One year turned into the next and here I am.”

“You're very young and very attractive. No one like you stays in Banburren.”

“You're here.”

“But I've no intention of staying.”

Kate smiled. Her teeth were good, even and straight and very white. She was breathtaking. The question popped, unbidden, into Kellie's mind. What would a woman like Kate, a woman who could have anyone, want with James Whelan, an IRA man from Banburren? She shook the thought away. There was no explaining love.

It was the session that made the evening. They were a musical family. Maggie's husband played the fiddle, Mary Catherine the whistle, and even Eileen was persuaded to hand her baby to her husband while she took up the bodhran. And of course there was Tom on the pipes. The music was sweet and slow and haunting, raucous and inspiring, soaring and swooning and rousing, breaking down inhibitions, lifting their spirits, drawing them together in a way that words could never do. When the last notes died away, Kellie was flushed and content and satisfied in a way she hadn't been since she was a girl on her own at Queen's.

It was after eleven when the family, sated and filled with pudding and spirits, called an end to the evening. The Whelans, a small community in themselves, content in their togetherness and their culture, gathered their coats and their children, kissed each other goodbye and went their separate ways.

Susan stood at the door, her trim figure framed in golden lamplight. “Goodbye,” she called out. “Hurry home or you'll catch your death. It's a cold one.”

Kellie buried her nose in the fleece of her collar and stuffed her hands into her pockets. It
was
cold, a damp, bone-chilling cold that whistled in on the wind from countries far to the north. She'd forgotten that cold could be like this, a cold that froze lips and noses and caused the back of her teeth to ache. A hot bath would warm her, but in Ireland hot water was in short supply.

Tom walked beside her with Heather in the middle. The two of them chatted back and forth with the ease of people comfortable with one another and the occasional silences that permeate a long acquaintance. Kellie recalled the feeling, wondered if she would ever know it again, shrugged off a twinge of self-pity and concentrated on ignoring the cold. She shivered. The streets of Banburren were empty at this time of night. It wasn't so much an ominous feeling, more a lonely one as if the dark shops and quiet streets had been abandoned by their inhabitants.