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

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СКАЧАТЬ all right,’ Tom said, and with a smile went on, ‘and don’t think I can’t afford it. I have plenty to buy enough Guinness to pour down my throat, as my mother is fond of saying every Saturday all the way home in the cart and when we both get in on Sunday evenings, and enough to buy baccy for my pipe. What she doesn’t know is I have a club I pay in to each week in the draper’s for my next suit for Mass, the first I will ever choose for myself, and some left over that I put in a Post Office account for a rainy day, so sixpence is neither here nor there, and this too will be a secret between us.’

      Inside the house, Molly’s grandmother was waiting for her. She, of course, knew full well what day it was, but she had said nothing about it and Molly imagined that it was going to be a nonevent, not mentioned at all.

      In this she was wrong, though the first thing Biddy growled out at them was that they had taken their time over the milking. Then her eyes slid over to Molly’s and she said almost as a challenge, ‘You know what day it is today, I suppose?’

      ‘Of course I do.’

      ‘I’m arranging for the nine o’clock Mass tomorrow to be said on your mother’s behalf,’ Biddy said. ‘I am seeing the priest in Buncrana today.’

      Only Molly’s eyes betrayed her surprise and her grandmother went on, ‘Course, it might already be too late. Where d’you think she is now, Molly, your wonderful mother? Roasting in the flames of hell alongside your father, the pair of them screaming in agony each and every day, or did Jesus have mercy on her soul and cast her into purgatory, where she will languish for ever until there are prayers enough said to get her out?’

      Biddy saw the look on Molly’s face, the raw pain of loss, and she smiled as she sneered, ‘I’m surprised that loving her as much as you say you did, you are not on your knees nearly all the night through, praying for the repose of your mother’s soul.’

      Sheer willpower kept Molly’s voice steady as she said, ‘Mom was the best mother to myself and Kevin that she ever could be, and a good wife to our dad, who she loved with all her heart. They died together side by side and if there is anything good to come out of that awful day, then it is that, for one wouldn’t have ever been truly happy without the other.’

      ‘Do you think the Good Lord cares one jot about what sort of mother Nuala was to a godless man or mother to the children she should never have born him?’ Biddy screeched.

      ‘Do you know,’ Molly said, ‘my God is nothing like yours. Mine is good and kind and just, not hateful and vengeful like yours seems to be, and I think He cares about each and every one of us.’

      ‘Isn’t there something in the Bible where Jesus says He cares about the lilies in the field?’ Tom asked his mother. ‘Surely to God, some higher being who cares about a few flowers would care just as much or more about people, all people, I should think.’

      Biddy surprisingly had no answer to that and Molly was grateful for her uncle’s intervention for she had been near breaking point and was surprised that he had seemed aware of that.

      Despite this, though, she was very nervous at the accent the priest would put on the Mass the following day. She needn’t have worried. Father Finlay saw the white-faced Molly in the church and his heart went out to her. He spoke only positive things about the family, and Nuala and Ted in particular, and went on to talk of the tragedy that this loving couple and devoted parents, with so much life yet to live, should have been taken from it, leaving their children orphans and their relatives and friends devastated.

      Outside the church, Biddy was not allowed to scurry home, driving Molly before her, for so many surrounded them, the men shaking Molly by the hand and many women, whom Molly saw had been crying, hugging her.

      It was not the service Biddy had expected or asked for, and neither was the response afterwards, and she noted not one person had commended her for taking Molly to live with her. At one time she would have made Molly pay for that – a good thump or box on the ears would make her feel a whole lot better – but somehow, since that last beating, something had changed between them.

      She had thought then the girl would be so cowed and frightened, but that hadn’t happened. Molly had continued to stand up to her and Biddy hadn’t any idea how to cope with that.

      Molly had no idea of Biddy’s thoughts and when she roared at her later because she said the cabbage was inadequately drained, she flinched for the expected blow, and when it didn’t come she was more than surprised.

      As the first anniversary of the deaths and funeral of Nuala and Ted approached, Molly felt her spirits plummet. She remembered each minute of the terrible day they both died, as sharply as if it was engraved on her heart, or at least she remembered it until the doctor’s tablets had done their job.

      But because she hadn’t actually seen her parents’ bodies after their death, their funeral had affected her just as much. It was then she felt she had said goodbye to them properly and she had hardly been able to bear the sight of their coffins being lowered into the earth. She couldn’t seem to prevent the memories seeping into her consciousness, so vividly at times that she would gasp with the pain of it.

      She knew her grandmother, watched her with a measure of satisfaction and she wondered anew about the woman’s mental state. Surely it wasn’t normal to take such pleasure in another’s misery?

      Tom couldn’t seem to help her and as the day Nuala and Ted had both died drew near, he did ask Molly if she didn’t want to talk about it. But, she said talking would not help, it was just one more thing she had to live through. She got through it too, though she worked like an automaton, spoke only in answer to something someone asked her and that night Tom heard her crying for hours.

      In fact, she was finding she was unable to sleep properly and if she did drop off, the lurid and upsetting dreams would soon wake her. Each day she felt worse and totally alone to deal with the dreadful memory of it all.

      Tom was glad that that year the 26 April, which was the anniversary of the funeral, fell on a Sunday, knowing that Molly would at least have the love and support of the McEvoys for part of that day. He made it his business to make Nellie aware of the significance of the date.

      That Sunday morning, everyone who saw Molly knew there was something grievously wrong with her. Not indeed that many did see her, because she entered the church with Biddy just as the Mass had begun and left before the last response. Nellie, who had hoped to have a quiet word with the girl, was prevented from doing this and was heartily glad she would see the child later that day.

      Molly hadn’t really cared. By Sunday morning she had had no sleep for days and was too tired and downhearted to function properly. The pain in her head was so bad and she had the desire to curl up in a ball, her arms wrapped around her aching body, and howl like a wounded animal might.

      Nothing touched her, not even Biddy’s ill humour, worse that day than ever, but she set off with her uncle as usual in the afternoon. Once they were away from the house, though, she said, ‘I don’t think I will go to Cathy’s today.’

      ‘Why not?’ Tom said. ‘They will be expecting you.’

      ‘I am too tired to make the journey,’ Molly said. ‘And I will be no fit company for anyone today.’

      ‘Listen to me, Molly,’ Tom said. ‘I could go up and explain to the McEvoys and yes, they would fully understand, for they know what day this is. True friends are there for you through the dark times too, and I think you need Nellie, Cathy and even Jack more than ever today. Their true and sincere СКАЧАТЬ