“Da, is it Patrick, tell me you have him in the boat. DA?”
The crowd waiting on the beach parted and hands began to pull Catherine through the gap, causing her to stumble.
“Let her through, it’s his wife,” someone shouted.
The words were like music to her ears at first, confirming that it was indeed Patrick, until the thought struck her that her young husband may not be alive. Was it his lifeless body that had been pulled from the sea?
As James and Matthew carried the unconscious fisherman towards a cart that was waiting by the roadside, Catherine grabbed Patrick’s limp arm and shook it, crying out for him to wake up. Mary came running up from behind and took her daughter by the shoulders, holding her back.
“They’re bringing him to Doctor Brunker’s, Catherine. Leave him be, my love, every second counts.”
“Oh, Ma. I don’t think he was breathing. I didn’t see his chest rise. I have to be with him.”
“I know. I know. We’ll follow them up to the doctor’s house,” Mary held Catherine out at arm’s length. “Listen to me, now, girl. Did you take note of the vomit on his clothing? That means he coughed up what was in his lungs. Your da would have made sure of that as soon as he got him out of the water.”
“Then why is he not awake, Ma?”
“It’s the cold, Catherine. It does that to them if they’ve been in the water too long. Come on, he may very well be sitting up smiling when we get there, and wondering what all the fuss is about.”
Mary didn’t fully believe the words she had spoken but the look of hope they brought to her daughter’s face was enough to calm her own anxious heart. The crowd had followed the cart, which was pulled by a young colt belonging to one of the gentry. A donkey would have travelled at a much slower pace and it was vital to get Patrick to the doctor’s house as quickly as possible.
When Catherine and Mary arrived at the gate to Doctor Brunker’s home, James was standing outside talking to one of their neighbours. He forced a smile at the two women as they approached and his heart went out to Catherine at the look of desperation across her young face.
“He’s breathing more easily now that he’s coughed up most of the sea water. Doctor Brunker has given him some sort of elixir that has made him bring up what was left in his lungs, so don’t you go in there all fussing and fretting, do you hear me, girl?”
Catherine nodded and wiped tears from her cheeks. “Will I be allowed see him now, Da?”
“I’ll go inside and see if he’s finished bringing up his lungs first.”
James disappeared and Mary led Catherine through the door to a chair in the hallway. Doctor Brunker came out from a room to the side of a wide, curving staircase and beckoned for the women to join him. He opened the door and smiled at Catherine. “He’s a very fortunate young man. Another couple of minutes under water and he would have made you a young widow, my dear. Go on inside, your father is with him, but don’t stay too long he needs his rest.”
James stood up from the chair by the side of the bed as soon as the door opened. As his daughter rushed in and clung to her husband, he put an arm around Mary and steered her out of the room. Both parents breathed a sigh of relief once they were outside in the fresh air.
Alone with her husband, Catherine held one of his hands in a tight grasp. “Patrick, I thought I’d lost you. I told you not to tempt fate, didn’t I? What happened out there?”
The young fisherman closed his eyes, resting his head back against a starched, white pillow. He was in a sitting position for ease of breathing and Catherine sat into the chair her father had vacated, to wait patiently for an answer to her question.
“I didn’t want to stay out with the catch, but I’m not sure your da believes me. He is bound to think it was me who encouraged the Murphy boys to tarry behind when the others abandoned the fishing. After all, I was the oldest one on the boat, wasn’t I?”
“Young Petey Halpin will tell them you didn’t. He’s hale and hearty and no worse off for the dunking he got, thanks to you by all accounts,” said Catherine.
“And what of the Murphys? Is there any news of them? Will you go outside and ask, love? I cannot rest until I know.”
The anguish written all over her husband’s face was enough to convince Catherine that he spoke the truth. When she found Matthew Clarke it was with a heavy heart he gave her the sad news that the young men’s bodies had been washed ashore. Their mother had been sedated by Doctor Brunker, with Maggie and a couple of the older women of the village offering to spend the night at the poor woman’s house.
“She only has her two young daughters now, what will they do, with no men left in the family?” asked Catherine.
“What does any woman do, love? She’ll get on with life as best she can. Her eldest girl works up at Freemont House now, so they will manage somehow,” Mary said.
******
As the weeks went by and the village came to terms with the sad loss of two more fishermen, Patrick Gallagher found he was being viewed in a different light by all around him. Petey Halpin, the young man he had saved from drowning, never stopped singing his praises and recounted the story of what happened on that fateful day at every opportunity.
The attention Patrick received, although positive, caused him great discomfort. It wasn’t the saving of one of the crew that filled his mind day and night but the loss of the other two men. Patrick replayed his actions over and over, trying to find a solution in his head that would give him peace.
‘Should I have wasted precious minutes bringing young Halpin back to the boat? Petey might have reached it on his own, in spite of not being able to swim. Surely striking out in the water for the man furthest away would have been the right thing to do? Maybe at least one of the Murphy boys would be alive today if I had done so.’
Two fine young men taken from an already fatherless family left a dark cloud hanging over Patrick. He began to call in on their mother each time he passed her house. She had been in her mid-thirties when she lost her husband to the sea and now found herself turning forty with her only sons suffering the same fate as their father.
Yet it was she who comforted Patrick.
“You cannot blame yourself for what happened. My boys should have turned the boat back when they saw the others heading for shore. They made a bad decision and paid the price for it.”
“If any of the other men had the catch we had they might not have been so quick to give it up. I reckon they would have tried to bring it in, too. You can’t blame your sons, Mrs. Murphy, for wanting to hold onto such a full net.”
“I don’t think badly of them for it, Patrick. They were young men, and as is often the case with youth, they were not so mindful of the danger.”
A thought came into Patrick’s head and while Mrs. Murphy continued speaking, it grew into a plan.
“What do you intend on doing with the boat? I suppose you’ll be selling it,” he asked.
“Well, I’ve no intention of bringing it out in the bay myself. No doubt, in time, I’ll get offers.”
“This might seem a foolish proposition to you, Mrs. Murphy, but would you consider holding onto the boat and letting me work it for you. I could give you the same portion of the catch as your family had before.”
“Have you lost your senses, man? That would be three times what you yourself would get. You’d fare a lot better crewing another boat. Ah Patrick, it’s good of you to think of us, but you have a family of your own to provide for,” Mrs. Murphy was touched by such a generous offer.
“I’ll be honest with you, I have wanted my own boat for a long time now. Would you consider a portion of the catch as payment towards the price of it?” asked Patrick.
“It would take you a mighty long time to purchase it that way. Think of how often the boats come in with a paltry catch, sure you’d be still buying it from my grandchildren at that rate,” Mrs. Murphy shook her head. “I’m sorry Patrick, but if I get an offer I will have to accept it. The money will go a long way towards paying my rent.”
“Ah sure, I suppose you’re right. It was just a thought. I’d best be getting home now or Catherine will think I’ve left the country,” said Patrick.
As he stood to leave, Mrs. Murphy held out her hand.
“I’ve changed my mind, Patrick. I would like to take you up on your offer of working our boat, if it still stands. At least until somebody shows an interest in purchasing it.”
Patrick smiled as he shook the woman’s hand, “You won’t regret it, I promise you.”
“Seeing as you won’t be buying the boat from me, I think it only fair that we divide the catch equally between our families. Do we have an agreement?” asked Mrs. Murphy.
“Oh, we certainly do have an agreement, even if it only lasts for a week,” Patrick was beaming.
Lamenting that many of the young men in the village where emigrating, leaving few to follow in the footsteps of their fishing kin, Mrs. Murphy felt it would be quite a while before any offers came in for the boat. The arrangement with Patrick Gallagher would mean she would still have fish to sell at market and feed to her family.
“There’s not much money about these days, so I’m sure there’ll be nobody beating down my door in their haste to purchase the boat.”
It was an elated young man who made his way to his home at the other end of the village. Before he arrived at his door, Patrick had already made a list of the men he would ask to crew Mrs. Murphy’s boat. His father-in-law was not one of them.