AS PETER AND Davy arrived into the kitchen, Jack was laying the table and Martha making the tea.
“Where’s Norry?” Peter asked in surprise, drying his hands and throwing the towel over the banister.
“It’s not like her not to have the supper ready,” Martha said in a puzzled tone of voice. “I wonder what delayed her?”
“Well, Norry is never in a hurry,” Peter smiled. “All the time in the world …”
“Still,” Jack interrupted, “she always has the supper on the table.”
“I’ll go and see what’s delaying her so,” Peter decided, going towards the door.
As he opened the door the sound of screaming cut like a razor into the quietness of the kitchen.
“Jesus Christ, what’s that?” Jack gasped as the screams drew nearer.
“Oh my God!” Davy breathed, staring wide-eyed at the door.
“It can’t be…” Peter began.
“Oh no! Oh no!” Martha gasped, running towards the door, “don’t let it be Norry. Norry, it’s Norry! Oh mother of divine God, it’s Norry!”
Peter was clung to the floor, but Martha rushed past him and caught Nora as she stumbled in. Blood pouring from her nose was staining the front of her torn dress and splashing red on her bare skin. Briars clung to her hair and tattered clothes. Her piercing screams filled the kitchen. Jack, feeling the strength leave his legs, grasped the nearest chair and whispered to himself, “Conway.”
“Oh my God,” Martha gasped, wrapping her arms around Nora.
“Oh Mom, Mom, Mom,” she yelled. “Peter, Peter, Peter.”
“Norry, what happened?” Peter gasped, but his voice was drowned.
“You’re all right now,” Martha soothed, holding her close. “You’re all right, you’re safe, you’re safe.”
Nora’s arms were like vice grips. Martha’s stomach locked in spasm and panic gurgled at the back of her throat, but she held the hysterical Nora firmly. The others watched with horror etched on their faces. Jack sat on a chair, holding the ends of the table.
“Lift her on to the couch with me,” Martha instructed Peter.
“Jesus! She’s all black and blue,” Peter whispered as Nora’s torn dress fell away to reveal dark bruises beneath tattered underwear.
“What happened to you, Norry?” Peter whispered, forcing the words out between clenched teeth.
“Matt Conway,” she sobbed.
“Matt Conway! Oh, Jesus Christ!” Peter groaned, burying his face in his hands. Then he straightened up and strode for the stairs.
“Where’re you going?” Martha demanded.
“Dad’s gun,” he muttered in a choked voice.
“Jack,” Martha ordered, “hold Nora,” and in two long strides she was across the kitchen, confronting Peter at the foot of the stairs. She caught him by the shoulders and shook him.
“Peter, just now it’s only Norry who counts. Forget Conway; he’s for later. It’s Norry now and only Norry.
Go for Kate this minute and, Davy, you go for Sarah Jones. I want those two women here straightaway. We must take care of Norry now.”
“Your mother is right,” a white-faced Davy intervened. “We’ll go for the women.”
When they had left, Martha covered Nora with a warm blanket.
“We’ll wait for Kate and Sarah,” she said, “before we move her any further.”
Nora was moaning quietly now as she lay cuddled up on the couch with Jack’s arms around her.
Martha strode up and down the kitchen, her mind raging. Why had she let this happen to Norry? She alone was responsible. Why in God’s name had she not put a stop to him before now? Peter and Davy had wanted something done, and she alone had held off. This was all her fault. She should have carried out her plan. Oh, but I am going to do it now. By God, is he going to pay! She felt her stomach churning and rushed to the sink in the back kitchen. When she raised her head, the back kitchen swung around her and cold persperation ran down her face. This was the most shocking thing that had ever happened to them. It was worse than Ned’s death. At least death was clean. What had that animal done to Norry? She couldn’t even bear to think about it. Then she straightened her shoulders, wiped her face with the towel and came back into the kitchen. Jack looked at her in concern with an unasked question on his face and she nodded her head.
“Are you all right, Mom?” Nora whispered.
“I’m fine,” Martha assured her, “and you’ll be fine too.
When Kate comes we’ll clean you up and put you to bed.”
“I don’t want to be alone,” Nora whispered, tears running down her face.
“You won’t be alone,” Martha assured her.
She looked at Jack and Nora together on the couch. He was rubbing her hands and hair and humming their own little tune with which he had lulled her to sleep years ago. He was trying to comfort and calm her as if she were a child again. Martha had seen him do it many times to injured farm animals. Nora reached out her hand and touched his face.
Martha felt the soothing wisdom of this old man. His face was grey with shock, but he was still able to pull himself together and ease Nora with his healing touch. Martha sat on the couch with them and tears spilled down her face. It was the first time that Jack had ever seen her cry.
Kate was the first to arrive and slipped silently into the kitchen. She talked gently to Nora as she peeled off the torn clothes.
“Thank God, she’s here,” Martha whispered to Jack as he went quietly out the back door.
“Martha, fill the bath with warm water and pour in some of this,” Kate said, handing Martha a bottle.
“You’ll be all right, Norry,” Kate soothed her. “There is nothing broken and all the bruises will fade.”
“But I’m so cold and frightened,” Nora sobbed, her teeth chattering.
“You’ll soon warm up in the bath,” Kate comforted her as she eased Nora’s panty down over her slim legs and asked gently, “Are you sore here?” Kate queried gently.
“No, Danny came and hit him with a hurley,” Nora told her.
“Thank God for Danny,” Kate sighed. “I’ll slip this towel around you and we’ll make it to the bath.”
Nora winced as she straightened up, but with the help of Kate and Martha she climbed the stairs. Martha was relieved to have Kate with her, and by the time Sarah Jones came Nora was in the bath. Kate washed her face and hair and gently cleaned off the dirt and leaves. As they were drying her, Martha asked, “Do you want to go into your own bed, Norry, or come down to the sofa?”
“The sofa,” Nora said. “I don’t want to be alone.”
“Sarah, will you fix up the sofa, and I’ll go out to the two boys, in case they’d do something that will land them in trouble.”
When Nora was settled comfortably on the sofa, Kate handed her two tablets and held a glass of water to her lips.
“Take these now, Norry, and they’ll make you sleep and take away some of the soreness.”
“If I fall asleep, you’ll still be here, Aunty Kate?”
“I’ll be here,” Kate promised.
A few minutes afterwards they knew by her deep breathing that she had gone to sleep.
“She’s not going to get over this in a hurry,” Sarah whispered.
“No,” Kate agreed, “it will leave its mark, but only for Danny it could be worse.”
“Danny will come to me and we’ll find out the whole story. It might be a while before Nora comes out with it,” Sarah said. “Will Martha report it to the Guards, do you think?”
“I doubt it,” Kate said. “She didn’t report the hay burning, though they came around asking questions.”
“He must be stopped,” Sarah decided. “The man is out of control. What will he do next?”
Out in the yard Martha found Jack leaning on the gate staring across the river at Conways’. She joined him and they both looked over silently.
“If it could only have been me instead of Norry,” Martha said. “She is only a child. I can’t bear to even think of it.”
“He must be stopped,” Jack said quietly.
“He will be stopped,” Martha told him with determination.
Jack looked at her. “You have a plan?” he asked quietly.
“I have.”
“I thought you had since the night in the meadow.”
“You don’t need to know, Jack,” she told him.
“Tomorrow morning I want you to go in and order that tractor that Peter and Davy have been eyeing in Kelly’s Garage.”
Jack looked at her in astonishment, and she knew that he was wondering how on earth a tractor came into her plan. She had no intention of burdening him with details.
“Nobody is to know. Instruct Kelly that we will tell him the exact day we want it delivered.”
“You have your reasons, Martha,” Jack said quietly.
“I have my reasons, Jack.”