Catherine had just finished reading her brother’s most recent letter from America, when her father stepped through the door. James saw the sheets of paper in her hand and smiled.
“I see your Aunt Maggie has you reading that rubbish about women voting. Thomas should know better than to encourage her with stories of such lunacy,” he said.
“Stories of courage and determination you mean. What’s her name? Susan is it?” asked Maggie.
“Susan B. Anthony. A name to be remembered, is that not so, Aunt Maggie?” responded Catherine.
The older woman smacked her hand off her knee and laughed.
“Our Thomas is a grand fella altogether,” Maggie shook a finger at James. “The young men of today know where their loyalties should lie, and that woman Susan B. Anthony, deserves all the support she can get. Imagine having the nerve to cast a vote in an election knowing she was breaking the law, and then stand up in court as proud as punch about it. Mark my words, if women get the vote in America, it won’t be long before we have it here.”
“And who would you be voting for, if you could, Aunt Maggie?” asked Catherine.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, don’t encourage her,” said James. “I came over to give Patrick a message from the Murphy brothers. They’re short of a man for their boat this evening, if he’s interested. He should take the opportunity now, while there’s a break in the weather. I can’t go myself. Make sure he lets them know whether or not he’ll be joining them. I’m off now, before my lunatic of a sister starts on another one of her rants.”
As James left the house he could hear Maggie extolling the virtues of a local politician and he couldn’t help but smile. His sister had become even more vocal as she got older and her talk of suffrage and equal rights for women did more to amuse the neighbours than influence them.
When Patrick arrived home, Catherine took great pleasure in telling him of the offer of a place on a boat for the evening. The smile that came to his face every time the opportunity of joining a crew came along assured her she had done the right thing in dragging him home to Ireland. Her young husband was a likeable man and offers of work regularly came his way whether it was labouring in the fields or other such casual employment.
People did not forget Patrick Gallagher once they had met him and his name would spring to mind whenever help was needed. Some of the jobs he was landed with made Patrick wish he hadn’t been remembered so easily, however, being part of a crew on one of the Blackrock boats was not one of them.
“Will your da be going out, too? He usually fishes with the Murphy brothers, doesn’t he?” asked Patrick.
“He can’t go this evening. Be patient with him, love, this is his way of showing us he’s beginning to accept you as family,” said Catherine.
“He’s just making sure his daughter and grandchildren are fed, that’s what he’s doing.”
“Aye, you’re not wrong, Patrick. My brother is as stubborn as an old goat, but you’ve been well and truly accepted by the rest of us, so don’t fret over it, lad. He’ll warm to you in time,” said Maggie, “Is that not so, Ellen?”
Patrick smiled at the latest member of his young family, as she gurgled and wriggled at her belly being tickled.
“With the weather ruining most of the crops this year, there’ll be little or no work in the harvesting. I’m thinking of going back to England for a while. I’ve three children to provide for now and milk won’t satisfy our Ellen for much longer,” said Patrick.
As Catherine put a platter of potatoes on the table she patted her husband’s shoulder. She knew he was right about her father’s reason for passing the job on to his son-in-law.
“Ah well, sure don’t let it spoil the evening for you. Once you get out there in the bay, you’ll forget all about my father and his sulking – and about going to England.”
After their meal, Patrick sat his children on his lap and told them stories of old Irish myths. They especially loved his tales of the sea and young Tom would always ask his father to buy his own boat and take him out in it. Each time, Patrick would assure his son that he was saving every farthing for that very day and by the time he was finished school they would be fishing together.
Once Catherine had settled the children into bed, she joined Patrick and Maggie at the fireside. Sitting on his knee, she remarked on how calm the weather had been of late and hoped it didn’t mean a storm was on the way.
“At the first sign of bad weather the boats will turn back. They always do, even when I, myself, wish they would stay a bit longer and take a chance. Maybe it’s as well I don’t have my own boat, you might find yourself widowed.”
Catherine frowned and punched him lightly on the shoulder.
“Patrick Gallagher, don’t you dare tempt fate with that sort of talk. It’s because you can swim that you’re not afraid. There’s nothing like the fear of drowning to make a man respect the sea and the weather.”