The Ghost of Grania O'Malley (16 page)

And then, just a few moments ago, there was this woman, eyes blazing at him, screaming at him to go back, that what he was doing was an obscenity, a sacrilege. She'd stood there, pushing at his digger, kicking it. He hadn't known what to do, what to say. She'd looked up at him one last time and begged him. ‘Please don't do it. Please . . .' He'd revved up his engine so he didn't have to hear any more. He was still thinking about her, wondering what was so special about the hill up ahead that she wanted to save it. He peered up at it. It looked ordinary enough to him, just rocks and gorse and bracken. What was she making such a fuss about?

The boy came out of nowhere, and was waving him down. He braked hard, as hard as he could, and slithered to a stop. He hadn't noticed the girl until then. She was sitting right in the centre of the track over on the far side of the clearing, legs crossed, hands on her knees and still as a statue. The boy was shouting up at him now, and that was when he recognised him. It was the same American lad he had shown over his engine down by the quay. He remembered he had been impressed by how much he knew about engines for a boy of his age.

He turned off the ignition and opened the door of his cab to give him a piece of his mind, but the boy didn't let him get a word in. ‘She says you've got to stop right there, sir. She says you can't go any further.'

The digger driver was suddenly aware of an old man emerging from the door of a shack on the edge of the clearing. He was inching his way down the garden path, balanced between two sticks. If the old man hadn't been there, the digger driver might really have let rip, language and all. He tried to calm himself. ‘Will you tell the young lady to shift herself?' he said. ‘We've got a job of work to do. We're days late as it is. You tell her, will you?'

‘Won't do you much good,' Jack replied. ‘See, she doesn't want you here. She doesn't want you digging up the Big Hill. Nothing will change her mind, not when it's made up. And it's made up.' The digger driver felt his anger boiling, but he held on to himself. The old man from the shack was leaning on his gate now, chickens pecking around his boots.

Neither of the children moved a muscle. ‘Listen, son,' the digger driver thumbed over his shoulder as he spoke, ‘there's three more of these behind. And we've got security men too, a dozen of them. After what's happened, the company's taking no chances. We don't want anyone getting hurt, do we now?' But he could see from their set jaws, their cold, defiant eyes that he was getting nowhere at all. He tried again, a gentler tack. ‘Look, all this. It won't do any good, you know.'

Jack interrupted. ‘She's not going to let you dig. Isn't that right, Jess? Tell the guy.'

‘I'm not going to let you dig,' said Jessie.

‘What did I tell you?' said Jack.

By now all the other Earthbusters and Land-Rovers and pick-ups had come to a standstill in a long line that stretched all the way back down the track to the road. Everyone was getting out to find out what was going on, what was holding everything up. They were swarming up the track past the machines and into the clearing. Father Gerald tiptoed round a puddle, his cassock tucked up under his belt. Behind him came Mrs Burke, teetering along in her tight skirt. Liam was there, and Marion Murphy too. They were all there now, every child in the school. They stood and stared, just like everyone else.

Jessie was looking for her mother and father, but she still couldn't see them. She noticed Michael Murphy talking animatedly to one of the digger drivers, and Miss Jefferson was picking up one of the infants – Jessie couldn't see which – who had fallen over and hurt his knee. Very soon the entire clearing was filled with islanders, and digger drivers in their orange overalls, and security men in their blue uniforms and shiny peaked caps – like the Garda, but they weren't. Last of all came Jessie's mother and father, pushing their way through the crowd to the front.

When she saw Jessie sitting there on the path in front of the diggers, she made to rush forward, but Jessie's father held her back. ‘No, Cath,' he said. ‘She won't come to any harm. I won't let her. But leave her be, eh? Let her do what she has to do.'

Jessie stood up – and that took some time. She had to turn herself on to her stomach and push herself up, first on to her knees and then on to unsteady legs. Jack did not help her. He knew by now that she only liked to be helped in private. As Jessie looked at the expectant crowd in front of her, she felt sick to her stomach and all her courage seemed suddenly to drain from her. Jack smiled his encouragement, but he could see from her eyes that she just could not do it. He knew then he would have to do the talking. There was no other way.

He took a deep breath. ‘I guess you're all wondering what Jess and me are doing,' he began. ‘Well, we're going to the top of the Big Hill, and we're going to stay up there for just as long as it takes, until the diggers go away. Jess and me, we've both been up there before.' He looked long and hard at Mrs Burke and smiled. ‘I stood on top of that hill and I looked around me. Up there it's like you belong, like you're part of something that's been going on for thousands of years. It's special, real special, a living, breathing thing. You cut the top off the Big Hill and you'd be killing it for sure. You dig out the gold, you'd be tearing out its heart. But I guess you know that already.'

The sea sighed and the wind whispered, and the crowd stood stunned and silent. Jack went on. ‘I've been thinking a whole lot just lately. My dad's sick, real sick. I've been thinking that maybe he won't make it, and he won't be around any more. And then I started thinking that that's what's going to happen to me too, to Jess, to all of us. It's like we're just passing through, but this hill is here for ever. And we've got to leave it just like we found it. We've got to leave good air to breathe, we've got to leave the fish in the sea, or else there'll soon be nothing left. I'm not making much sense, I guess, but you know what I mean.'

Jack took Jessie's hand in his. ‘So Jess, she decided we're going right up to the top of the Big Hill, and once we're up there, we're not moving, no way. If they want that gold, then they'll have to go right over us to get it.' He caught Marion's eye, and smiled at her. ‘You can come with us too if you want. You all can. We'd sure like that.' He turned to Jessie. ‘Coming?' And they walked away together up the track.

The crowd looked on. No one moved. No one said a word. A few paces up the track and Jessie felt weak all over. ‘Jack,' she whispered. ‘I'm trembling.'

‘Me too,' said Jack. ‘You've thought about this, haven't you? It's a long way to the top, you know.'

‘I remember,' said Jessie. Suddenly she gripped his arm. ‘Can you feel them, Jack?'

What?

‘The ghosts, the pirates. They're here, they're all around us. And she's here too, Grania O'Malley. I can feel her. She's watching, I know she is!' Jack looked around him and then over his shoulder. He stopped. Jessie turned and saw what Jack had already seen. Old Mister Barney was following them up the hill, his white head bent between his sticks. He moved like a tortoise, every ponderous step a massive effort. He paused for a moment and lifted his head to look up at them.

‘You mind if I come along?' he said.

Then Jessie's mother was breaking away from the crowd and running up to him. ‘I'm coming too,' she said.

Mister Barney smiled at her. ‘Just so long as you can keep up with me, Cath,' he said. He waved a stick at Jessie and Jack. ‘Don't just stand there. We'll meet you at the top.'

Jessie was looking for her father and could not see him. ‘Is Dad coming?' she called out.

‘Later,' said her mother. ‘He's gone back to fetch some food and drink.'

‘Plenty of water up there,' said Jessie, and she turned, balanced herself against Jack and started to climb again.

They were only about halfway up the hill, just past the waterfall, when Jessie felt her legs giving out on her. She was leaning more and more on Jack now, and stopping every few steps. ‘I don't think I'm going to make it,' she breathed.

‘You've got to,' said Jack, his arm tightening round her. ‘She's watching, remember? Everyone's watching.' That was when she turned to look. Jack was wrong. True, some of them were still standing by the diggers and watching, but most of those wore the orange of the drivers or the blue of the security guards. Michael Murphy was with them, and a few other islanders – but only a few. Jessie was wondering where the rest had gone, when she saw them, dozens of them, coming around the bend in the track. Liam was running on ahead, waving to them. Father Gerald was alongside old Mister Barney now, with Jessie's mother. And Mrs Burke was just behind them, her skirt hitched up, Miss Jefferson striding past her. ‘Will you look at that?' Jessie breathed. ‘They're coming, they're coming with us.'

‘So?' said Jack. ‘What are you waiting for? Do you want Marion Murphy to beat you to the top?'

‘She's not there, is she?'

‘I don't know, but she could be.' That was enough of a spur for Jessie. She lurched on, calling out the rhythm as she went: ‘One and two. One and two. One and two.' She scrambled on hands and knees over the rocky places, and then dragged herself to her feet, hauling on anything Jack offered her – an arm, a leg, trousers, anything. On she staggered with never a look behind her now. She could hear them coming. She didn't need to look.

In the end she wasn't first to the top. She had the first sight of it, and felt that warm tingle of exhilaration, of triumph, when Panda came bounding past her, knocking into her and sending her crumpling to the ground. She bellowed at him, but he never even stopped to look at her. Mole was trotting up the track towards them, his great ears pricked. When he saw Panda ahead of him, he raced on past them, head lowered, ears back, chasing him round and round the top of the Big Hill, Panda dancing away from him and barking wildly.

By the time Jessie and Jack got there themselves, Panda was lying down, panting and happy on the thrift, and Mole was browsing busily in the undergrowth near by, his tail whisking at the flies. Jack had a drink from the spring above the rock pool. He sat back on his haunches, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

‘No earrings this time,' he said. Jessie was stretched out on her back still fighting for her breath.

‘I can hear them,' said Jack getting to his feet. ‘They're coming.' But Jessie could hear someone else, someone much closer. She propped herself up on to her elbows.

‘Listen Jack,' she whispered. ‘Listen.'

The voice was right beside them. ‘Jessie? Jack? You've done fine, just fine.' It was her. It was her. The voice went on. ‘We're all mighty pleased with you. But now you've got the high ground, you have to hold on to it, d'you hear me? Believe me, I know. Once you got the high ground, you don't give it up, no matter what. And don't let them talk you down. They'll try it for sure.'

‘We won't,' said Jessie, looking around her, hoping she would appear. ‘We promise we won't.' There was no sign of her, so Jessie went on, ‘It was you that dug up the treasure, wasn't it?'

The voice laughed. ‘Well, as you know, the boys weren't at all pleased about the idea of parting with it in the first place. They were happy enough to dig it up. Lots of “I told you sos,” but there we are, that's the luck of the game. I thought myself it was a fine idea, and it would have been too. All those rules and regulations. A lot of rot. Ah well, it was a nice try; but this is better, much better, and this'll work. So you just sit tight now, y'hear me?'

‘Can't we see you?' It wasn't at all comfortable, talking to a voice.

‘Soon enough, you'll see me soon enough, when you need to. I'll be seeing you.'

‘Grania O'Malley! Grania O'Malley!' But there was no reply. Jessie turned to Jack. ‘You heard her, Jack? You did hear her?' Jack was nodding, his eyes darting nervously.

‘I wish she wouldn't go all invisible on us,' he said. ‘It scares the hell out of me when she does that.' She took his hand and gripped it. She squeezed twice and he did the same. They were together in this, in this as in everything. Both of them felt it at the same moment.

And that was how Father Gerald found the two children some moments later, sitting exhausted but exhilarated, hand in hand beside the rock pool.

‘You won't talk us down, Father,' said Jessie, as he came towards her.

‘I wouldn't want to, Jessie, even if I could,' he said, his sermon smile on his face, a smile Jessie had never believed was real, until now. ‘There's half the island coming up the track. I don't know about them, but I've come to stay, and I'm staying put till the diggers go.'

‘Where's Mum?' Jessie asked.

‘She's way back down the hill with Mister Barney. Someone went back for his wheelbarrow – he just couldn't go any further, not under his own steam. He didn't like the idea of the wheelbarrow that much, not at first. “Jessie goes by wheelbarrow sometimes,” says your mother. And he says: “Well then, if it's good enough for her, it's good enough for me.” They won't be long. What you said about your father back there, Jack . . . Opened our eyes, so you did. You made us all do some thinking.'

Very soon the top of the Big Hill was crowded with people, all milling about in excited huddles. More would be coming, they said. Like Jessie's father, many had gone back for tents and blankets and food. Someone started clapping and then everyone was cheering. That was when Jessie saw her mother pushing the wheelbarrow up over the top of the hill towards her, Mister Barney waving like an emperor. They helped him out, and gave him his sticks.

‘Well,' said Mister Barney looking around him, ‘it's the first time I've been up here in over twenty years. And if they want to get me down again, then they'll just have to drag me.' He nodded towards Jessie and Jack and smiled, his eyes full of tears as he spoke. ‘If I had my hat, then I'd take it off to the two of you. And I've not taken my hat off to anyone in all my life.'