An urgent knocking on the door woke the McGrother household, including the children, all except Pat. James noted that fact as he passed the old man, lying fast asleep on the settle bed in the corner of the parlour. When the door was opened, a young man from the village was swept in by a strong gale that had been blowing continuously for five days.
“Joseph, what brings you out in such weather, has somebody died?”
“No, James not yet, but that may change by morning,” the young man replied after catching his breath. “I ran against that wind all the way here. Have you ever seen anything like it in your life?”
“I’ve never seen a storm to hold onto its strength for so long in my lifetime, that’s for sure,” said Pat, who had come to stand beside his nephew, one of the children in his arms. “I’m not losing any sleep over it, though. It was young Mary-Anne here that woke me, jumping all over my old bones.”
“Sorry to wake you all up but my brother thought you should know that George Elphinstone and James Crosbey are going back for another attempt at rescuing the crew off the Mary Stoddart.”
He was referring to a low hulled barque that had broken anchor in Dundalk Bay and run aground between Soldier’s Point and Blackrock.
“Are they insane? They nearly lost their boats and their lives the last time,” cried Mary. “James McGrother, don’t you dare even think about joining them while this storm is still raging.”
“They won’t be in their own boats. They are piloting two vessels from Dundalk with Captains Hinds and Kelly and setting out from Soldier’s Point at dawn. The crew has already been chosen, Mrs. McGrother,” the young man said.
“Mary, if anything goes wrong and I can help, you know I will,” James turned to his uncle. “Pat, take your coat off. If you get blown over I can’t stop to pick you up. Be sensible and act your age, man.”
The words were not spoken in anger but in a steady, even voice. James did not want to hurt his uncle’s feelings but there was no time for reasoning with the old fisherman. As he followed Joseph outside into the storm, James avoided looking at the faces of the two people he knew he had greatly upset – his wife and his uncle.
Maggie tried to lighten the mood as the family sat around the parlour, tense and anxious. Even the children were quiet.
“Why don’t I tell ye a story and settle ye back into bed?”
“Go on, children. Do as Auntie Maggie says, I promise to wake you if there’s any news,” said Mary, who was rocking her baby back to sleep.
When they were alone, with only the sound of the wind encircling the cottage, Mary took hold of Pat’s hand, its skin rough and calloused from a lifetime of fishing.
“James didn’t mean to chastise you, Pat. He has been concerned about you lately, we all have.”
Pat didn’t speak, but placed his other hand over Mary’s and patted it. The old man was quiet for a while, his head bent. Mary thought he might have fallen asleep sitting beside her, but when she went to draw her hand away he gripped it tightly and wouldn’t let go.
“Pat, what’s wrong? Are you still upset by what James said?”
“Mary, do you believe me when I say, that aside from a wee bit of poaching, I have never stolen a thing in my life?”
“Of course I do. Sure you’re as honest as the day is long. What’s brought this on?”
“I’ve done a terrible thing and I don’t know how to make amends, without bringing a heap of trouble upon us,” Pat was getting more distressed by the minute.
“You can tell me and if you want it kept secret, then I won’t breathe a word to a soul. What is it that’s bothering you, Pat?” Mary felt sure that it had to be something very insignificant.
The old man walked over to where he slept, and took his rolled up jacket from under the straw filled sack that served as a mattress. When he handed it to Mary she could feel that it covered something solid and heavy. As she lifted up the jacket to let it unroll, two of Annie’s wooden bowls landed on her lap. Mary’s eyes quickly scanned the dresser and she saw that the four remaining bowls from the original set of six were still there.
“Oh, Pat. Where did you get these from? Please tell me you didn’t steal them.”
The old fisherman was distraught as he paced back and forth in front of the fireplace, wringing his hands. Mary could see his anxiety rising with each footstep he took and she led him back to the bench, sitting him down gently but firmly.
“Now, Uncle Pat. Calm yourself down, take a deep breath and tell me how you came to be in possession of those two bowls,” Mary sat beside the distressed man and held his hand once more.
“James asked me to go collect his wage for the day’s work from the big house. You know how he has an arrangement to be paid daily, though how he managed that, I’ll never know. He must . . .”
“Pat, stay with me now. Never mind the arrangement. Tell me about the bowls,” Mary knew how easily the old man’s mind could stray.
“The bowls? Annie’s bowls? Oh Mary, I’ve done a terrible thing,” Pat had begun to wring his hands again as he raised himself up from the bench.
“Sit down, will you,” Mary’s patience was wearing thin. “Tell me what happened when you went up to the kitchen to collect the money for James.”
The sharpness in the young woman’s voice brought Pat to his senses and he looked at the bowls sitting on the table where Mary had placed them. They appeared to him to be staring back at him, like two accusing eyes. As his head cleared Pat lowered himself onto the seat beside Mary. He told her the cook at the big house had said he should step inside as the weather was turning cold but the heat in the kitchen made him feel uncomfortable.
“So as soon as she left, I removed my jacket to cool myself down. A small dog had come in from the cold alongside me and I hadn’t paid much heed to it, but finding myself alone in the kitchen I began to look around. That was when I heard a noise and turned to see the dog’s head stuck into one of Annie’s bowls,” Pat was becoming more agitated. “Oh Mary, what have I done, what have I done?”
Mary could guess what happened next. The sight of a dog eating out of Annie’s beloved bowls, a family heirloom passed on to her by her mother, would have been enough to send Pat over the edge.
“Do you think anyone saw you take the bowls? No, I don’t suppose they did, else we would have found out by now,” Mary answered her own question. “Listen to me, Pat. If they allow an animal eat out of those bowls then they must not deem them of any value. Maybe they’ll think the dog ran off with them. Why, that’s it, Pat, they’ll wonder where they have disappeared to and then replace them with two more bowls.”
“But it was wrong of me to take them. I should have offered to pay for them, I just wasn’t thinking straight. As soon as I had them rolled into my jacket, I regretted what I had done, but before I had a chance to put them back one of the maids came into the kitchen with money from the Master.
When I got back to James, he was putting the last few stones in place. I couldn’t tell him, Mary. I tried but the words just wouldn’t come.”
“Stop your fretting. I know exactly what we’ll do, but James has to be told. We need his help with this. He can put them in one of the sheds or somewhere about the farm and when they are found the mystery of the missing bowls will be solved. Everyone will think the dog had run off with them.”
“I can do that, Mary. Please don’t tell James about this, it’s bad enough that you know, I feel ashamed of myself – and rightly so.”
The look of shame on Pat’s face combined with the pleading in his voice was enough to convince Mary she should spare the old man any more embarrassment and distress. Patting the back of his hand as she stood up from the bench, Mary promised not to say a word to James – something she would deeply regret in the days to come.