Under the July Sun (35 page)

‘Maeve, are ye in there?' Ned called, becoming irritated. ‘Will ye open this door?' He shoved the door with his shoulder and it gradually gave enough to enable him to slip inside.

Edward stood watching and waiting for Granny to come out, but when he heard Ned shout, ‘
JESUS
!' he became alarmed and knew there was something wrong.

‘Granddad is Granny in there?' he called.

‘Edward, run and get yer Dada as quickly as ye can,' Ned commanded.

The boy ran off to find Tom who was in the yard feeding the pigs. When Edward told Tom what Ned had said he dropped the bucket of food, told Edward to fetch Norah, and ran towards the little cottage.

Once inside, Tom saw the bedroom door was open slightly.

‘Dada are ye in there?' he called.

Ned appeared in the doorway, but told Tom he was unable to open the door wide as Maeve was lying behind it.

‘She seems to have had a fall and I can't move her, Tom,' Ned said.

Tom wedged himself through the gap in the door and saw his mother's ashen face twisted sideways against the floor. She wasn't breathing. He gasped and looked at Ned.

‘Is she…? Has she…? Oh
Dada
...I think she's gone.'

Ned stared at Tom, and then slumped onto the side of the bed.

‘No. No.' He struggled for breath. ‘'Tis just a fall she's had. Go get Daniel, as quick as ye can.'

Tom stood up.

‘Put a blanket on her Dada and I'll get Daniel,' he said moving around Maeve's body. He looked at Ned. ‘Norah will sit with ye, Dada. C'mon in near the fire and warm yerself, and I'll be back soon.'

‘No, I'll stay here and watch her; she may wonder what has happened when she wakes up. Ye get on now and fetch the doctor.'

Tom squeezed out of the doorway and met Norah just outside the cottage.

‘Be prepared,' he told her. ‘I think Mummy has passed away.'

Norah blanched. 'Oh
no
!' She drew her shawl tightly round her shoulders. 'What'll I do, Tom? Will I go in, or not?'

‘Sure, ye should go in, Norah. Dada's in there but I do not think he is in full command of his thoughts. He says she has just had a fall, but I think Mummy has died. I'm away to fetch Daniel now, so are ye up to goin' in?'

Norah nodded, but inwardly she dreaded walking into the room and having to deal with the situation. She looked Tom in the eye. ‘Off ye go then, Tom. Edward is lookin' after Theresa so don't worry, but maybe ye should ask yer sisters to come.'

Tom agreed. He hurried away and disappeared around the corner, leaving Norah alone on the pathway to Granny's Cottage.

‘So ye see, Mother,' Cat explained, ‘I have to go right away, but I'll leave Anna and Eileen here, I'll just take Billy and Elizabeth.'

Cat wiped away the tears that were running unchecked down her cheeks and meeting beneath her chin.

Mother Superior shifted in her chair, and then leaned on her forearms across the desk, reaching out a hand to touch Cat's.

‘There's no problem as far as your job is concerned Cat, so don't worry about that, you won't lose it, especially not over this.' Her voice was calm and comforting and Cat looked up and tried a fragile smile.

‘Thanks so much, Mother, ye've no idea how much it means to me workin' here, but ye do see I have to go. Poor Mummy and I didn't get to say goodbye.'

‘Try to draw solace from the knowledge that she is in good hands now Cat, and that her soul is at rest. I wish we could all say the same.'

‘Yes, Mother. But I've an idea, if it would please ye. Would ye allow Anna and Eileen to do the work while I'm away, then I'll not be lettin' ye down?'

‘That sounds like an excellent idea to me Cat, and you can rest assured that they will be well looked after in your absence.'

‘Ah Mother, ye're far too good to me.'

‘You're worth it, Cat. I know what a struggle life is for you and if we can help in any way it would be an honour. You're a good, fine Catholic woman and have suffered enough. If I had my way, I'd just give you your wages without expecting you to work for it but I know you wouldn't accept that sort of arrangement.'

A huge lump constricted Cat's throat preventing her from replying, so she just nodded her thanks and stood up to leave.

Mother Superior stood too, moved around her desk and went across her office to open the door for Cat.

‘When are you leaving, Cat?'

‘First thing in the mornin', Mother,' and as she uttered the nun's title another wave of grief overtook her as she realised she would never speak to Maeve her mother, ever again. She hurried from the office, down the corridor and out into the fresh air where she leaned against the wall and wept.

* * *

Tom was waiting on the platform as the train drew into the station and Cat, leaning out of the window, waved to him.

He raised what looked like a weary hand in reply and walked towards the carriage as the train drew to a halt.

‘Oh, Tom I can't believe it.' Cat sobbed against his neck as his arms folded around her. They clung together for what seemed ages, and bewildered, Billy and Elizabeth exchanged glances waiting for instructions on what to do next.

Eventually the pair parted and Tom turned and picked up the luggage.

‘I've got the cart waitin' so ye've not far to walk,' he said winking at the children.

‘Can I ride up next to you, please?' Billy asked.

‘Sure ye can.' Tom stood aside to let Cat out of the platform gate first. ‘And ye can drive too.'

Excited at the prospect of driving, Billy ran ahead and scrambled up onto the cart.

Cat shouted at him. ‘
Billy
!'

He turned, wondering what the problem was as Cat sounded angry.

‘Will ye get down from there and think of others first for once!' she snapped.

Confused, Billy slowly climbed out of the cart.

‘Have ye no manners, child?' she chided him. ‘Help yer uncle with the bags and make yerself useful, ye can seek yer own pleasures after ye've helped others.'

Billy scowled and picked up a bag which he threw onto the cart with a vengeance. ‘Is that enough?' he asked sulkily.

Tom, sensing a battle of wills between Cat and Billy, was careful not to take Billy's part against his sister. She was right that the boy had acted selfishly and Tom didn't like his tone of voice. He lifted Elizabeth onto the cart and then as Cat jumped up to follow, he turned to Billy.

‘Righto, Billy ye can step up here now and take the reins.'

Billy sullenly climbed up to the seat next to Tom, took the reins, and made a clicking noise to urge the donkey forward.

As they bumped along the Cashel Road toward Monroe, Cat's thoughts darted from one image to another as she saw Maeve in every step of the way. Maeve waving from a field, Maeve guiding the cows in, Maeve lifting the heavy milk churns, Maeve brushing her hair when she was a child, and now no Maeve.

When they arrived at Monroe, Billy remained motionless in the driver's seat until Cat and Elizabeth were helped down by Tom. He then turned the donkey round in the yard so that she was facing up the boreen, ready for their next journey to O'Connell's where they would be staying.

‘Thanks, Billy,' Tom said and looked up at the boy sitting stubbornly in the driver's seat. ‘Ye know Billy, this is hard for all of us and I'm relyin' on ye to help me out here.'

The boy looked down and began picking at a piece of skin on his finger.

‘How d'ya mean, Uncle?'

‘Well, ye're goin' to learn now how to handle losin' someone─'

But Billy didn't let him finish.‘I've
already
lost someone and I
know
what to do.' His voice was tight.

Tom was surprised by Billy's response, but quickly recognised that the boy wasn't just being stubborn, he was fighting to keep his emotions under control.

‘Ah sure, I know ye have, and a fine boy ye've been since, so ye'll know what yer mam's havin' to go through right now. So if she seems a little snappy, ye'll know it's because she's tryin' not to cry in public kinda thing.'

Billy continued to pick at his finger while Tom talked to him. Then, feeling he should be with the women and Ned, Tom sighed.

‘C'mon inside when ye're ready.' He left Billy sitting on the cart and walked into the cottage.

Billy sat outside on the cart until spots of rain began to fall, first intermittently then more regularly, and though he tried to ignore, it he knew that eventually he would have to go in and face everyone.

The last funeral he had attended was his father's and he dreaded going to Maeve's. Billy tried to push down the horrible feeling he was going to cry. He'd been very brave since Louis' death, had not cried once. He was proud of having kept this record for four years.

But as Billy sat out on the cart in the rain, something inside him burst like a dam and all the misery of becoming the man of the house since his dad died frothed up inside him, threatening to choke him.

Unable to prevent the tears of loss, he succumbed to his grief and sobbed.

Ned's sister Nellie put a glass of porter on the table and sat down opposite him. Her husband Mick, Cat, Mary, Breda and Tom were subdued, making arrangements for a funeral they never dreamed would have come so soon. They all agreed Maeve had always been so healthy, never a day's illness in the whole of the time they had known her.

Silently Ned picked up the porter and sipped it. He hadn't said a word, couldn't bring himself to make a decision about which sort of casket, the lining, or what sort of gown Maeve would wear. It just wasn't true.

Numbed, he let the whole thing whirl about his head and somewhere he found a comfortable lodging place for his thoughts. Going back to when Maeve and he were newly wed and had moved into their first home - Granny's old cottage where they had finally ended up. Curious, he thought, how things go full circle.

Nellie looked across at him, saw the dreamy look in his eyes and knew he wasn't hearing a word that was said. She nudged Cat who looked up, and following the direction of Nellie's glance, looked at her father.

Cat got up and moved around the table to sit next to him.

‘Dada, are ye feelin' all right?' she asked gently, rubbing the back of his hand.

Ned looked at her. ‘No, I'll never be all right again.'

‘Oh don't say that Dada, Mummy wouldn't want ye to!'

‘I don't know. I don't know anythin' anymore.' He sipped his drink and Cat sat watching him, feeling utterly helpless.

Oh why is death so painful she wondered, why don't we rejoice that someone is out of all this suffering? She looked at Nellie and raised her eyebrows. Nellie decided to take the lead and involve Ned rather than let him just drift off into his private reverie.

‘Ned, we need ye to make a decision on this now Pet.'

He looked up. ‘On what?'

Nellie continued. ‘On the sort of casket ye want Maeve to have and the other bits and pieces.'

‘Oh ye go ahead and choose, I have no opinion on the matter,' he answered quietly. ‘Don't mind me, Nellie; I'm no good at this sort o' thing. Just choose amongst yerselves. I'll go along with it.'

Nellie shot a glance at the three sisters who all nodded, so they went ahead and chose the casket, handles, lining and Maeve's gown, while Ned sat appearing to listen to them, but not hearing a word.

* * *

On the day of the funeral the sun shone brilliantly and the whole of Fethard gathered in their age-old custom to bid Maeve farewell.

As funerals go, Ned thought, it was a very good one. So many people gathered to greet him and the children and he drew comfort in knowing that all these familiar faces were there for Maeve and to help them get through the awful ordeal.

After the funeral, O'Connell's was opened to the mourners, the priests and anyone who wanted to join the family for a drink. They would reminisce, laugh at funny things they remembered about Maeve and many offers were made to help Ned.

Of course they all meant well he realised, but what help could anyone be now? All the years Maeve had scolded him for not doing this, that or the other, and now there would be nobody to do that, and he'd grown used to it. It was her way.

But that didn't mean that there was no love between them because there was. They just didn't have to go around shouting it out. Now what was he going to do? How would he cope without her rough matter-of-fact personality and the fact she would stop at nothing until he did as he was told? Had he been the man of the house, or had she? It had all happened so subtly. They had slipped into that way of co-existing.

Ned was afraid. He didn't think he could bear to be alone in that cottage without her. But what choice did he have? It was out of the question for him to burden any of his children, and kind as Nellie and Mick were, he didn't want to live at the hotel, he would rather keep his routine of going there for a drink with his pals. Each suggestion made to him was dismissed for one reason or another.

Despite all the offers, Ned came to the conclusion that he had, in fact, very little choice. He would just have to endure living in the old cottage with Maeve's ghost and try to make the best of it.

The awful part of it all though Ned recognised, was that this was the first time in his life he had ever lived alone, and it scared him.

‘So,' Cat said, ‘If ye could keep me posted about Dada I'd be much obliged, only I think he's lookin' so lost and I'm worried about him.'

Peggy poured the tea out, put the tea-cosy back on the pot and handed the cup to Cat.

‘Sure we will, Cat. And don't ye go worryin' about him, he'll be grand, ye'll see once he gets over the shock.' She took a handkerchief from her pocket and wiped away her tears. ‘Though who'd have ever thought Mummy would go, just like that?'