Anne Bennett 3-Book Collection: A Sister’s Promise, A Daughter’s Secret, A Mother’s Spirit. Anne Bennett

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       TWELVE

      Molly stayed in bed for four full days and Tom tended to her every need. During that time she never saw her grandmother at all, but she knew that that way of life could not continue for ever and so the fifth day, though her face still bore evidence of the attack and her body was painful and stiff, she got out of bed and was dressed when Tom came in to see how she was.

      He was pleased, taking it as evidence of her improvement, though he did urge her to take it easy.

      Molly shook her head. ‘It’s not the workload that worries me, Tom. It is coming face to face with your mother, but I know that it’s got to be done. I know that I can’t skulk in my room for the rest of my life.’

      ‘You’re right, Molly,’ Tom said. ‘And once more I admire your courage. And I’ll be right behind you, remember that.’

      The knowledge should have made Molly feel better, but it didn’t and she was full of trepidation. Her mouth so dry she could barely swallow when she stepped into that room. She knew that the only way to deal with her grandmother was to stand up to her, but she didn’t know if she had the courage this time.

      When she saw Biddy’s eyes slide over her face, she felt her whole body start to quiver, especially when she saw her eyes held no remorse; rather they had a gloating look about them. Biddy wasn’t sorry, not even one bit. She had felt sure that once she had the girl in Ireland she would soon lick her into shape, show her who was master, as she had her own children.

      However, Molly had upended the whole house, and in her defiance and insolence had not only got Tom’s support, but the McEvoys’ and now even the priest’s. It was not to be borne. But Biddy knew this time she had thoroughly frightened the girl and she was still so full of fear that Biddy could almost smell it emanating from her.

      Tom watched Molly’s reaction to his mother with worried eyes. He could well understand it. It had been that same fear that had dogged his own life and made him the soft, malleable man he was. From the arrival of Molly, his life had begun to change. For her sake he had to speak out, learn to criticise and even defy his mother sometimes and stand on his own feet more.

      Molly’s tenacity had astonished him at times, yet he acknowledged this latest vicious attack had really seemed to unnerve her. Maybe it was down to him this time and so he said, ‘Haven’t you something to say to Molly, Mammy?’

      Biddy’s eyes slid to those of her son. ‘I don’t think so,’ she said.

      ‘I was thinking of an apology, at least.’

      ‘There will be no apology. The girl asked for everything she got.’

      ‘No I did not,’ Molly yelled, sudden anger replacing her fear. ‘You hit me because you wanted to and kept on hitting me, even when I couldn’t feel it any more. You are not even human, because it isn’t normal to go on the way you did.

      ‘Now you listen to this,’ she went on, ‘my face is a mess and my body a mass of bruises, but they will heal, but your mind I doubt will ever be right. Next time you hit me, because the notion takes you, I just might feel like hitting you back, so I should consider that, if I were you. And you can bring the priest, bring the goddamned bishop for all I care, and I will tell them what you did to me and that it was no cold kept me from Mass and the McEvoys, which is what I gather you told them. And at least now I know exactly where I stand.’

      She walked across the floor as she spoke and took her coat from the peg behind the door.

      ‘Where are you off to?’ Tom asked.

      Molly answered, ‘I don’t really know. Just somewhere out of this house, where the air is cleaner.’

      Molly followed Tom to the cowshed that evening because she refused to be left in the house with his mother, but Tom said she was to sit on the stool and watch and she was still so full of pain she was glad to do so.

      He had had no chance to talk to Molly alone all day, and they had barely closed the door, when he said, ‘I couldn’t believe it the way that you stood up to Mammy today. You must have nerves of steel. You looked scared to death when you first went into that room. I thought I would have to be the one to fight for you.’

      ‘In my rational moments I am still scared,’ Molly said. ‘But what she said was so unjust I was incensed and that sort of overrode the fear. I never complained to the priest, Uncle Tom. He asked me all the questions and when he said he would come and talk it over with my grandmother, I was pleased. No one could have predicted that she would go off her head the way she did. I honestly didn’t know what she is capable of, how brutal she can be.’

      ‘The point is,’ Tom said, ‘what are we going to do about it, because there will be occasions when you are in the house together and I am nowhere around?’

      ‘My father said fear had to be faced head on,’ Molly said. ‘He told me that everyone is scared at some time in their lives and if you don’t learn to cope with it, then it will control you. He freely admitted he had been terrified that day he had crawled out to reach Paul Simmons. I know he would agree with my stand against your mother because she is a bully and he was always adamant that no one should let a bully win.’

      ‘That is all well and good, Molly, but—’

      ‘You are always complaining that I am too fond of that word, “but”,’ Molly said with a smile. ‘I really think your mother is not right in the head and I will never let myself be such a victim again. I imagine I could give a good account of myself if I had to.’

      ‘And no one would blame you,’ Tom said. ‘God! When I saw what she had done to you, I wanted to kill her. If she hadn’t got out of my sight, I really think I would have hit her and that would have been the first and only time, and changed something between us for ever.’

      ‘Maybe it needs changing.’

      Tom shook his head. ‘Not in that way. God, I would feel even less of a man than I do already if I raised my hand to any woman, let alone my mother.’

      ‘I can understand that,’ Molly said. ‘Just don’t expect me to feel the same.’

      ‘I don’t,’ Tom said. ‘As I have already told you, no one will blame you, and for what it’s worth, you will have my support. Not that you seem to need it.’

      ‘I do,’ Molly said. ‘Maybe not to fight my battles, but in championing me in other ways. It is really very hard to live with someone who hates you so much. Without you I don’t think I would be able to cope.’

      ‘Molly, that makes me feel so much better,’ Tom said.

      ‘Good,’ Molly said. ‘And now if you are finished here, then let’s go inside and face the old dragon.’ But she was glad her uncle couldn’t see her insides turning somersaults.

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