Wildflower Girl (3 page)

‘Are you going to give me a hand, Michael?’ she joked.

Michael bent down and dragged out an old bed sheet. He let the water drip all over his shoes.

‘Michael!’ Peggy stared at him. ‘What’s wrong with you? Fling it up on the line before you soak yourself.’

‘Peg, I want to talk to you.’

She looked at him. Something was up, she could
tell.

‘Spit it out, Michael, whatever it is.’

Michael blushed red as a turkey cock.

‘I got the job, the one up at Castletaggart House.’

Peggy stared at her brother. She felt betrayed.

‘I’ll be living in over the stables. Imagine, they have twenty horses and I’ll be helping to look after them all.’

‘Oh, Michael,’ Peggy swallowed hard, ‘I’m so happy for you.’

‘I never believed it would happen. All my life I’ve loved animals and wanted to work with them. You remember when I left school how hard I tried to get work on a farm. I thought it would never happen – and now!’ Peggy pinned a smile across her face.

Michael stopped and looked right at her. ‘Peggy, I suppose I’m letting you down. There’s no need for me to go to America now. I never wanted to go anyway. I’ve got my chance here at home and I’ll grab it.’

‘I know, Michael. So now I’m on my own.’

‘Don’t be cross with me, Peggy. I’m real sorry, but this is my dream come true – working with horses. We all have dreams and must follow them, so Peggy, you must do what you want!’ Michael lifted the empty enamel bucket. ‘Eily and Nano think it’s grand. In two days’ time I’ll be living in at the Big House.’

The next day a brown envelope was delivered, addressed to Michael and Margaret O’Driscoll. It contained another notice and two vouchers. The silver-printed vouchers could be used at Masters & McCabes Shipping Office at Queenstown ‘as payment for passage to America. On receipt of said
voucher a ticket would be issued to the bearer.’ The notice gave details about emigration and advice on what to bring, and wished the applicants luck.

Michael glanced at his voucher, shrugged his shoulders and pushed it back in the envelope. He had other things on his mind.

Every hour or so, Peggy would take her voucher out and look at it. ‘Passage to America’ – the words burned in her mind.

‘Eily, please, I could go on my own. I’d get a job straight away and I’d send money home,’ Peggy pleaded.

‘No! No! You’re too young. You’d never survive in a strange country on your own,’ Eily kept answering back.

‘But I want to go. It’s not just what you want, this is something
I
want!’

‘At thirteen you think it’s important what you want, you little devil!’

‘At barely thirteen you saved Michael and me from the workhouse and brought us all the way from Duneen to Castletaggart. You pushed us and made us walk and got food for us and forced us to survive the Famine,’ Peggy reminded her.

‘That was different. I had no choice,’ Eily admitted.

‘But I feel I’ve no choice. The shop will close down. You and John will be getting married. I’ve seen Powers’ cottage, there won’t be space for me there. Nano is the one that needs a home. You’ve been trying to get work for the last two years and if you couldn’t, how do you think I’d ever get a job?’

Peggy’s question hung in the air.

Over the next few days she kept on asking and asking. She stuck out her chin and used every ounce of O’Driscoll stubbornness to get her way.

‘Nano, if you were young, what would you do?’ She forced her great-aunt to answer.

Nano rocked backwards and forwards and after much consideration grudgingly said: ‘I’ll tell you something, Peggy, if my sister Lena were still alive and the two of us were in our heyday and young, we would be the first ones to take a passage to America. Such a chance of an adventure we’d never have missed.’

She patted Peggy on the hand. ‘I’ll talk to Eily,’ the old lady assured her.

That night there was a meeting in the back kitchen of Murphys’ Bakery. Peggy stayed up in the bedroom as down below Nano, Eily and John Powers argued and discussed her future. She listened to the singsong of their voices, wondering what the outcome would be.

Eily’s eyes were red-rimmed and her face was blotchy when she slowly climbed the stairs and came in to sit on Peggy’s wooden bed.

‘Well, Peggy!’

Peggy raised herself up in the bed. They hugged each other.

Eily looked tired. ‘Yes. The answer is yes.’ She tossed the envelope on to the beige blanket.

‘Are you angry with me?’ asked Peggy.

‘No, pet, I’m not.’ Eily sat down on the corner of the
bed. ‘I’m just sad. Sad for myself I suppose. I’ll miss you. It’ll be so lonely. Michael will be gone, and then if you’re on the far side of the world …’ she trailed off. ‘Why do you have to go, Peggy? Don’t you think you’d be happy with the rest of us on the farm?’

Peggy stared at the strands of wool in the blanket, and didn’t answer.

Eily had begun to cry. ‘It’s just so sad. Oh, Peggy, you’re my little sister. How can I ever let you go? I can’t bear parting!’

‘I know how you feel,’ Peggy said. ‘Do you remember the day that Mother left home to look for Father?’ Eily looked puzzled but nodded. ‘I wasn’t even seven, but I can remember that awful day as if it was yesterday. I knew as she walked down that little road that she would never come back.’

‘Peggy, none of us knew that. She was going to the roadworks to search for Father. We all thought she’d come back,’ said Eily.

‘No, I never believed it. I knew it would be the last time I’d see her. We never saw her again. Sometimes I pretend it’s that day again, just so I can remember her.’

‘Oh, Peggy, you poor little pet, we all miss her and Father. Day in, day out, for the first two years, every time that shop bell downstairs rang I’d run into the shop just in case one of them would be standing there looking for us.’

‘I did the same,’ whispered Peggy. ‘Sometimes I’m scared, Eily, that I won’t remember them. I even try to think what Mother looked like to remind myself.’

Eily got up from the bed, picked up an oval-shaped
mirror and held it in front of Peggy’s face.

‘Look, Peggy, look at yourself. You look just like her.’

Peggy stared at the round face under a mop of thick chestnut-coloured hair, the two big brown eyes and neat slightly tilted nose, the freckles and small white teeth.

‘When you go away, Peggy, what will I have to remind me of you and Mother?’ sighed Eily.

Peggy hugged her. ‘You’re the most important person in the world to me, Eily. You’ve loved me like a mother, yet you’re my sister and my best friend. Nothing will change that,’ she whispered.

‘Peggy, I can’t understand you – aren’t you frightened about going? About the ship, and America, and being on your own?’ asked Eily.

‘No, no. I remember things that were worse, a lot worse,’ said Peggy firmly.

‘I’ll talk to the schoolmaster tomorrow,’ said Eily. ‘And do you know Nell Molloy? I heard herself and her family are going to America too. I’ll call up and talk to her, she might keep an eye on you. And I suppose we’d better bake a mountain of oatcakes as they’re meant to be the best thing to last the long journey.’

AT SUNDAY MASS FATHER LYNCH
called out the list of names of those who were emigrating and recited a special prayer for them. Peggy fixed her gaze on the carved wooden cross as she felt the eyes of the congregation stare at her when her name was called out. Afterwards many people came to shake her hand and wish her luck. Eily and Nano stood on either side of her like two statues.

That evening Market Lane was crowded as the neighbours came and went to say their goodbyes. Michael had managed to get a few hours off. The small kitchen was packed and Nano and Eily had laid on a bit of a spread – soda bread, scones and two huge porter cakes. Plates and cups sparkled in the firelight. Two jars of poteen stood on the dresser and a barrel of porter was dripping a cream of froth onto the red tiled floor.

It was a wake of sorts – a farewell party, and
everyone knew that it was unlikely they would ever set eyes again on Peggy O’Driscoll in this lifetime.

John Joe Daly’s arrival was greeted with a cheer. He pulled out his fiddle with a flourish and began to play a few notes to warm up.

Peggy looked at all the friends and neighbours. Hard lives and bad times and yet they could still smile. I’ll never meet the likes again, she said to herself, sealing their faces and stories into her memory. John Joe was now ready and began to send his music tripping across the room. Two little girls from Market Square who went to Peggy’s school got up and began to dance, hopping like two fairy children, their backs straight and their hair bouncing in the air, their narrow pointed feet flying as if they had a life of their own. Their father leant against the door smoking his clay pipe and bursting with pride when loud clapping rewarded their performance.

Michael, blushing, stood in front of Nano and bowed extravagantly. The old lady got up from the rocking chair and took the floor. John Joe slowed the music so that the audience could appreciate Nano’s intricate steps. Michael guided her gently round the room. Peggy stared at him. He was so handsome. All his gentleness and care seemed to make him stronger. Her brother was turning into a fine young man. Peggy bit her lip. Pinpricks of tears were trying to push behind her eyes – she must deny them. Nano caught her eye and ended her dance with a fine display of petticoat and then collapsed in Michael’s arms laughing out loud.

A few minutes later half the room was up, joining
in a lively reel. Peggy was spun from one strong pair of arms to another till she was so out of breath she couldn’t even talk. Kate Connolly got up and sang two songs. The time seemed to fly. Peggy knew everyone was talking about her – in some ways it was if she had already gone.

Eventually all the well-wishers left and it was just themselves again. Michael made a cup of tea for Nano. She looked exhausted. ‘Never did I think, nearly seven years ago when Lena and I found three raggy little ones standing in our kitchen, of the happiness and love you’d bring into our old lives. And now the fledglings are leaving the nest. I can’t help myself feeling sad no matter how proud of the three of ye I am,’ she said.

Peggy looked at her. The soft grey-blue eyes were misty.

‘Come on, Auntie Nano, away to bed, you’re all done in. A good night’s sleep will have you right as rain in the morning. Away up and I’ll sit with you till you drop off.’

Peggy grabbed her aunt’s shawl and followed her up the stairs, a sudden stab of thought making her realise that this was the last time. Nano changed into her nightdress and let Peggy brush her hair. She was just about to get into bed when she went over to the old oak chest of drawers. From the bottom drawer she drew out a big leather-covered book.

‘Sit down, Peggy, till I give you this.’

The girl looked at the familiar cover with its design of harps and leaves.

‘Do you remember? This was Lena’s Bible and now
I’m passing it on to you.’

Peggy opened the cover. Lena Murphy was written on the inside in big bold letters. Further on, two blank pages had been covered with names and birth dates. It was the family tree. Peggy ran her fingers across the line with her mother’s date of birth – 5 November 1814 – and the date of her marriage to John O’Driscoll. Auntie Lena had written underneath: Died during Ireland’s Great Famine, and she had also written: Mary Ellen (Eily), Michael and Margaret (Peggy), Baby Bridget (in Heaven), and their dates of birth.

Two pairs of eyes met and Peggy realised that it was more than just a Bible she was being handed. It was her history – the keeping of a tradition. No more words were needed. She hugged Nano and ran from the room. The lump in her throat was so big it nearly choked her.

Peggy crawled into her own bedroom. She felt as if every bit of adventure and spirit had oozed out of her. The night was suddenly chilly and she pulled the blanket up over her. A few minutes later Eily came in. She looked bone-tired and weary. She pulled on her nightgown and climbed in beside Peggy.

‘You’re not asleep, Peggy, are you?’

Peggy shook her head and reached for her sister’s shoulder.

‘Don’t cry, little sister,’ urged Eily, though large tears like crystals were streaming down her own face. Peggy hiccupped and then began to giggle. Eily started to tickle her. She knew all the best places. The two of them were in stitches when Michael stuck his
head in.

‘Shush! You’ll wake Nano up!’ Michael came and sat on the end of the bed. The three of them together. It had been like this for so long. They talked and talked, about the years behind and the years ahead. Nothing would break that bond. The birds had just started their dawn chorus when Eily insisted they must all have some rest.

No matter what she did, Peggy couldn’t sleep. She was too excited, too nervous, too sad – too everything. Gently she rolled over on her side and eased herself out of the bed. Eily slept on.

Peggy pulled on some clothes and crept like a kitten from the room and down the stairs to the kitchen. She lifted the latch and let herself out.

There wasn’t a sinner around. Everyone was still in bed. Peggy was tempted to shout: Today’s the day! Wake up! but she held her peace and escaped from the narrow streets and alleyways. She passed the little bridge and this morning it seemed lonelier than ever. But she didn’t have time to sit and dream today. Small-holdings where potatoes would soon be ready, rich meadows of lush green grass and fields of grain – barley and wheat – spread out in the distance.

She climbed over a jagged low wall into her favourite field. The grass was damp with dew, making her feet wet and the hem of her dress cling to her legs. Cowslips and buttercups, bluebells, ragged robin, tall lacy cow parsley – all slept drowsily waiting for the morning sun to wake them up. She picked them one by
one, and pulled ribbons of woodbine from the hedgerow. She danced and spun round and round till the blue sky and green grass blurred and became one. Her arms were filled with wild flowers when she suddenly noticed an old farmer and his cart slow down and stare at her, curious. Soon the town would be awake. She raced back to Market Lane and pushed in the kitchen door.

Nano was sitting at the kitchen table in her nightdress. She looked old and tired, and beautiful.

Peggy ran to her. ‘Aren’t they lovely, Nano?’ She opened her arms and let the flowers tumble onto her great-aunt’s lap. ‘They’re for you.’

‘Peggy, you’re always bringing me flowers …’ Nano held the woodbine to her face. ‘By tonight its scent will fill the house … by tonight …’

Peggy washed and dressed. Eily cooked the biggest breakfast ever. They all sat around and watched her eat, making sure she swallowed every bit. Eily had sorted out food for travelling, saying she hoped it would last all the weeks at sea. There was dried beef, some tea and sugar, a rich porter cake, a round golden cheese, and dry oatcakes. Another hour and it would be time to leave.

Nano was varying between fussing and flustering and sitting down every few minutes with her handkerchief to her eyes. Peggy tried to leave her be and concentrate on getting ready.

Michael fastened a horse-hair bracelet on Peggy’s wrist. ‘From the three best horses in the stable.’ He had plaited and linked the black, the chestnut brown and the golden hair so they came together and formed
a stiff circle. ‘It will bring you luck and speed and strength,’ he added.

Peggy looked at it and loved it straight away, knowing what it meant.

Nano produced a small drawstring purse, heavy with coins. ‘For a rainy day, pet, and to help you get started.’

Eily wrapped her best shawl around Peggy’s shoulders. ‘It’s yours. We can’t send you off to the New World with a worn-out shawl.’ Peggy clutched it close to her. She rubbed her face to the soft wool. It would enfold her just like Eily had always wrapped her and kept her safe.

All too soon they heard the clatter of the cart on the cobbles in the lane. Nell Molloy and her family were sitting on the cart, the little ones perched on tightly wrapped bundles of clothes. Michael went to fetch Peggy’s bundle. Eily was stacking her wrapped food.

Nano had disappeared into the shop. She was walking up and down and running her hand over and back on the counter distractedly. Peggy tiptoed in and hugged her.

‘Stay here, Auntie Nano! Don’t come out in the lane.’

Nano managed to paste a wobbly smile across her face. There’d be time enough for tears later.

Michael lifted Peggy on to the cart. Eily ran almost the whole way down the main street, waving, and following the cart and horses like a little girl. Peggy watched and waved until all that was left of Castletaggart town was the haze of smoke
disappearing in the distance.