“Was it very bad, James? Maggie says I should get you to talk to me. She says it does a body no good to keep things locked inside. She says . . .”
“She says, she says, she says. Maggie doesn’t know everything. There are some things not meant to be shared,” James felt his wife’s body stiffen beside him. “I’m sorry, Mary, I didn’t mean any disrespect. My sister has an uncanny way of reading a man’s thoughts and it can be very unsettling. That was why I avoided answering her questions when I arrived home today.”
Mary relaxed once more in the circle of her husband’s arms. “Mr. Harrington sent a message yesterday informing us that he was certain you would be released today. We have all been on edge waiting for your return, afraid that something would happen to change their minds,” Mary settled her head more comfortably on James’s shoulder. “Maggie sat on the wall staring up the road for hours before she saw you. I watched the wee ones join her for a while, then run off to play, but she never left the wall. She feels more like a mother to you than a sister, James. You cannot blame her for being concerned. Besides, I believe what she says is true – about holding bad feelings inside of us.”
James sighed deeply. He had been waiting for Mary to share her own news with him and believed that was what she would do, once they were alone. Instead, she was asking him questions that only served to make him more anxious.
“Fine so, I will tell you what it was like in jail. The food was palatable, the bed hard, the neighbours noisy and I did not have to suffer cold feet pressed against my calves when I lay down at night,” whispered James. “Does that satisfy your curiosity?”
Mary dug her knuckles into his ribs and laughed, “As pleasant as your stay was, I hope you are not given another opportunity to partake of Her Majesty’s hospitality.”
Maggie was upstairs, sleeping with the children and the quietness of the house was broken only when a wave could be heard crashing on the beach nearby.
“Don’t you have something to tell me yourself, Mary? Mr. Harrington seems to think you do.”
“I do, James, but you won’t like it. One of the stable boys swore an oath that he saw Pat placing Annie’s bowls in the long grass by one of the walls you repaired.”
“What harm can that do? A pair of old bowls they thought fit only for a dog. They cannot keep an old man in jail for such a paltry offense. We can pay whatever fine the judge sets, there is no need . . .”
“James, listen to me. Annie’s bowls are not the problem – besides, they have been returned. Two silver bowls have gone missing from a set. They were a wedding present to Lord and Lady Devereux from the Marquess of Bath. There are pieces of cutlery missing too, some fish knives and teaspoons. It seems that Pat must have been taking whatever he could fit in his pocket whenever the urge came over him.”
“Mary, are you listening to yourself? How can you think such a thing? Has even one piece of that missing silverware been found here and if not, what do you suppose Uncle Pat has done with it all?” James’s voice was getting louder as he spat out the words.
“Hush, you will have the whole house awake. Have you forgotten the spoon that was found in his jacket? The police think that Pat meant to bury it until it could be sold. They also believe that you, James, had a part in the selling of the cursed objects. Mr. Harrington says they have no evidence to prove anything of the sort but he fears the head constable bears a grudge against you. He says we must be careful not to draw any attention upon ourselves. He’s a good man, James, and I trust him to do his best for Pat.”
“I cannot for the life of me believe that Pat McGrother took anything other than those two wooden bowls, but tomorrow we are going to search high and low. If there is anything to be found then find it we must. I saw that your flowers have all been tampered with in the garden, Mary. Was that the handiwork of the police?”
“It was, but the children did their best to replant them. Let’s go to sleep now, James, we can talk more in the morning. Mr. Harrington might even have some good news for us.”
After an early breakfast, Mary sent the children off to school. Maggie excused herself by saying she would accompany them, feeling the need to stretch her legs. This made James laugh as his sister had never been fond of long walks, even as a child.
“How thoughtful of Maggie to leave us with the house to ourselves,” James came up behind Mary as she was sweeping a pile of dust through the doorway. He slid his arms around her waist, kissing the side of her neck.
“James McGrother, are you planning on doing any work at all today? Have you not got some fishing to do, or is your stomach still full on Her Majesty’s fancy food?”
“Oh woman, you have a sharp tongue on you this morning. I told you last night that I am going to search for that silverware Pat is supposed to have stolen,” James lifted a shovel from where it rested against the side of the dresser and headed towards the open door.
Mary ran after him in a panic, calling his name. She did not want James to go around to the back of the cottage but he strode ahead, ignoring her pleas. Turning the corner of the house, she bumped into her husband, who was standing very still surveying what was left of the garden his aunt had spent most of her life cultivating. Mature fruit bushes lay wilted having been pulled from the ground, while huge holes could be seen dotted randomly here and there.
“The police had no right to cause so much damage. There was no need to uproot everything in sight,” James’s voice broke as he sank to his knees on the damp, upturned sods.
“I tried to tell them that if they spared the roots by digging deep enough then the plants would survive, but they wouldn’t listen. Maggie was shouting and pulling at their arms until one of the constables pushed her away and she fell to the ground. It was a blessing the children where all at school. We managed to save a few of the younger bushes, look, James,” Mary was jumping over the holes, moving from one wilted plant to another. “See, this one seems a little fresher than it was yesterday. And that one over there is much livelier, too.”
James picked himself up without uttering a word and raised the shovel high above his head before stabbing it into the loose clay. Turning abruptly on his heel, the young man stormed away from his home, heading for Paddy Mac’s. Although he had never been prone to drinking, it was the one thing he felt most in need of at that moment, to quell the rage building up inside him.
After a few attempts at repairing the damaged shrubbery, Mary gave up and turned towards the cottage, shaking her head in frustration. Her sister-in-law was leaning against the gable wall with her arms folded across her chest.
“I was wondering when you would notice my presence. I’ve been standing here listening to you ranting and raving like a mad woman. James marched past me on the road with a face like thunder. Did you two have a disagreement over the landscaping?” Maggie, as usual, tried to make light of the situation.
Mary shot her a scathing look and sliced the shovel into the earth, much as James had done but with a lot less force, then strode past her. When she entered the house, Mary gasped with dismay to see an old scratched tea caddy lying on its side on the dresser, the lid gaping open like a hungry mouth. Maggie ran forward and picked it up, shaking it, as if by some miracle the rent money would still be in there, clinging to the bottom.
“We both know where he’s going and it will do no good to try and stop him,” said Mary.
“What has gotten James so riled? He never paid much heed to the garden before.”
“Oh Maggie. I as much as told him last night that I believed while Pat’s mind was addled, he had taken the missing silverware. It near broke his heart to hear me say it. I never mentioned the fact that the police had dug up the back garden. I knew it would keep him awake all night, thinking about it. Before I got a chance to tell him this morning, he grabbed the shovel with the intention of searching the garden himself for the silverware. More to prove me wrong than to find it, I reckon,” Mary sat down heavily on her husband’s chair by the fireside.
The only other chair in the room was the one Pat always sat on and Maggie eased herself onto its woven rush seat. For a long time, the two women stared silently into the white ash, left over from a turf fire the night before. The hens came clucking into the cottage one by one, picking at the floor, until Mary shooed them back outside.
“Do you think I should call to Paddy Mac’s and see how James is faring?”
“You might make things worse if you do that, Mary. No man wants his wife leading him home by the ear,” said Maggie. “Paddy Mac will make sure he gets back safe and sound. I doubt that anyone besides James will be drinking at this hour of the day.”
As the time dragged by, the two women busied themselves preparing food for when the children arrived home from school. A portion was set aside for Pat, who loved a bit of salted herring, and Mary was planning on bringing it to him the next day on her visit. A knock on the open door made both women jump. They turned around to see Kitty Carroll, the woman who had delivered all of the McGrother children, standing in the doorway.
“Bless us and save us, you two are a bag of nerves, aren’t ye?” Kitty sat on one of the chairs warming her hands over the fire. “Are ye missing a man, by any chance?” she asked.
“We know exactly where he is, Kitty, and what condition he is likely to be in by now. My James never could hold his drink,” said Mary.
“And aren’t you the fortunate woman for that? He’s likely to pass out before all your rent money is gone then, isn’t he?” laughed Kitty.
“Have you just come from Paddy Mac’s? Surely he has not taken every penny from James?” asked Maggie as she placed a cup of tea into their visitor’s hands.
“Paddy is a good man, he would never take advantage of anyone. As I was passing by his open door I heard raised voices inside and sure curiosity got the better of me. Mary, that poor man of yours is hurting bad. I’ve never seen James McGrother with that much drink on him. Paddy signalled for me to come in and we tried to reason with him. He kept throwing what was left of his money at Paddy and cursing him for not serving him. In the end I saw him pour a huge glass of whiskey for James and place the money back into his pocket, unbeknownst to him.”
“Has he passed out so?” asked Maggie.
“I would say he is near enough to doing that by now,” replied Kitty. “Paddy asked me to fetch Joseph White on my way here. He says that between the two of them, they will get James to sleep it off in Joseph’s house. James would be very upset when he sobers up if he was to learn that his wee ones had seen him in such a state.”
“Well I thank ye all for your kindness and for sparing his pride, not that he deserves it,” said Mary.
“Ah now, give the man a chance, woman. He’s entitled to let off some steam once in a while,” scolded Maggie. “We will leave it up to James to come home when he’s ready. Would you be so kind as to inform Joseph White of that, Kitty, so he can relay the message to my brother when he recovers from his – em – unfortunate malady.”
Kitty promised she would and thanked the women for the tea. Patting Mary on the back before walking towards the doorway, she told her there was many a woman would give their right arm for a man like James McGrother, drink and all.