With a heavy heart Catherine listened as her father tried to console her mother. There had been no easy way to break the news of another member of their family emigrating.
“Please don’t grieve so, Ma. It’s only for a year, to see what it’s like. Sure, you and Da did the same thing when we were children.”
“A steam packet to Liverpool and a train to Sunderland is not the same as a ship to New York,” Mary was crying as she spoke. “We will never be able to pay you a visit, and you’ll not be likely to return too often, with the cost of bringing a family on such a journey. Sure how many times has Thomas come to see us, and he with a wee child here missing him sorely.”
“”Patrick has already agreed that we put something aside, each week, no matter how little, and so we’ll have the price of a ticket for both of ye in no time. Please Ma, don’t make this any harder for me. We need to think of the future, for the children’s sake. Can you not see that? Do ye think I’m eager to leave ye? Sure my heart is breaking at the thought of it,” Catherine sat on her father’s chair by the fireside and broke down.
James sat Mary on her own chair, opposite his sobbing daughter. He didn’t know which one needed consoling the most. It was all he could do not to break down himself.
“Listen to me, the both of ye,” he had to shout to be heard above the wailing. “Of all people, I know what it feels like to make such a grave decision, love, and we’ll not hold it against you. Will we Mary?”
There was no answer from the bundle of faded black fabric rocking back and forth on the chair.
James pulled his wife into an upright position and she clung to him. He could feel her deep sobs reverberating through her body and knew that if she didn’t get a grip on her emotions, he would soon be a blubbering mass, himself.
“Now, stop your crying and let us give Catherine our blessing. We don’t want to make this any harder for her than it already is, do we?” James smiled sadly at his daughter.
Catherine had a moment of weakness at the sight of tears in her father’s eyes and almost changed her mind. She was not like the rest of her sisters in their longing for adventure and a new life. Breege was already saving for America and Mary-Anne would leave home at the drop of a hat. It was young Jamie that was most like her, wanting only to have his own boat one day and remain in Blackrock as a fisherman. Even he would have to accept work across the water in England, when times were lean, it was part and parcel of life in their village.
“All my children will be gone. I see it happen all the time. How many of the neighbours’ grandchildren do ye see here, running around the village causing mischief? Oh what I would give to have the flowers plucked from my garden or a stone pelted at my hens by someone’s misbehaving grandchild,” Mary wailed as she ran from the house and bumped into Patrick, who was waiting at the gate.
“And you. You.” She beat her son-in-law’s chest with her fists. “What kind of a man takes his children away from their grandparents. Your own parents are dead, so you should be grateful that we are still here for them.”
Before he could stop her, Mary ran off down the road and left Patrick feeling unsure of what he should do. He knew that she was on her way to Maggie and was thankful that his children were not in the house. Both Maisie and Tom were in school and Thomas and Lily had taken his youngest for a walk, while the news about America was being broken to Catherine’s parents.
Patrick paced outside the gate, listening for any sound that might come from the house, but nothing reached his ears. That was a good sign, he thought. If James had been angry or too upset, he would have charged outside to give his son-in-law a piece of his mind. Catherine had been right in wanting to tell her parents about their decision on her own. It would not have surprise Patrick if James had followed Mary out of the house and thrown a punch at him, but that didn’t happen. Instead, an eerie silence had ensued. Even the birds seemed to be silently accusing the young man of a dreadful deed. The sound of the waves breaking on the shore drew Patrick towards the village, where he hoped to find Thomas and Lily. He needed to get away from the McGrother house and its sadness.
Inside the little white-washed cottage, time seemed to stand still for James. His mind drifted to a scene in the past, when he had returned home to find his young daughter trying to spoon feed her mother. Mary had been in a bad place mentally, and Catherine was trying her best to help him look after her. The scene was so vivid that for a few seconds, it was all he could see and he jumped when brought back to the present by a hand on his arm.
“Are you feeling ill, Da? I’m so sorry, I didn’t think you would take it this hard,” Catherine sat her father down on his chair and busied herself making some tea. “I knew that Ma would be upset, but it still hurt to see how grieved she was. Please give me your blessing, I promise I will save every farthing to bring the children home to see ye, as often as I can. Sure ye might even come for a visit yourselves. Wouldn’t that be grand? Ye might like it so much that ye won’t go home.”
It was all James could do not to burst into tears himself, watching his eldest daughter care for him, just as she had done for her mother so long ago as a young child. He gave her a warm smile as she handed him a cup of steaming hot tea.
“Do you remember the time your ma was carrying Breege and the manner of sickness she had then?”
“I do indeed. Sure wasn’t I delighted to have an excuse to stay out of school and mind her?” Catherine smiled at the memory.
“You were always a grand wee girl. Don’t you go telling your sisters now, but I’ve always had a soft spot for you, Catherine,” whispered James.
“Ah, go on with you. Sure they know that already. Haven’t the two of them given me grief over it for years? We all know that you love us but when it comes to myself and Jamie there’s a look you give us that’s a wee bit different. Is it because we are so much like you, Da? Or because we are the first and last of your brood?”
“A bit of both, I daresay,” James was beginning to feel the better for the relaxed talk and the cup of tea. “You know your ma will hold it against Patrick for taking you away don’t you, love?” James said.
“Did you hear what she said to him when she ran outside?” Catherine replied as she walked to the window. “I couldn’t bring myself to go out to them and I’m glad you didn’t either. Ma will be with Aunt Maggie by now, crying her heart out. Patrick’s gone off down the road. Poor man, he’ll be wondering what you’re saying to me and hoping you won’t be trying to talk me out of leaving. Are you going to, Da?” she turned to face her father, “Try and talk me out of leaving?”
“No, love. I’m not. That husband of yours has a hold on you that no man could break, and that’s as it should be between man and wife. But I wish with all my heart that he had left you alone, when you were in the doctor’s house in England, and not gone against my wishes behind my back. You might not be thinking of America but for him. So, your ma is not the only one who puts the blame at his feet, Catherine,” James gave his daughter a despondent look.
Catherine made an instant decision to tell her father part of a dreadful secret that even her husband knew nothing about. The blame that Patrick took for every calamity that befell them was unfairly put upon his shoulders. The rift between her husband and her father seemed to get wider every time they were in each other’s company and nothing she could say had ever made a difference. Catherine knew that if her father truly offered his hand in genuine friendship, Patrick would put the past behind him and accept it. He was not one to bear a grudge, it was one of the traits of his character that had drawn Catherine to him.
“I was already carrying our Tom when I wed Patrick.”
The words hung between them in the air, as if unsure where they should go. The ticking of the mantle clock intensified, making Catherine even more aware of the thudding of her heart.
“Did you tell me such a thing so that I might find him and kill him, and then none of ye would be sailing off to America?”
“No, Da. I told you that because we have all done Patrick a great injustice, me more so than anyone, for he is not Tom’s father,” Catherine slumped into her mother’s chair.
Again the clock filled the silence and it seemed an age before James could bring himself to speak.
“And are you going to tell me who the father is? Or do you want me to play a guessing game with you?”
“You don’t know him, Da. I don’t even know who he is,” Catherine was determined to keep Gilmore’s identity a secret. “I was set upon on a dark evening, I never saw his face clearly. I refused to see Patrick after that even though he tried so hard to make me change my mind. I couldn’t tell him what had happened, it was too awful. I let him think it was because you had forbidden us to see each other. When I found out I was with child it was Aunt Rose who talked me into marrying Patrick. She said it was for the best and that it would make him happy and give me and the child security and that nobody need ever know,” Catherine broke down, no longer able to speak.
The sound of the chair scraping across the flagstone floor caused her to catch her breath and the young woman braced herself, fearing her father would strike her. Instead, she felt herself being lifted up as easily as if she was a small child and enveloped in a pair of arms even stronger than her husband’s.
They stood a long time like that, father and daughter, with the clock ticking beside them and the sea breaking its waves loudly on the sand, as if it were applauding the scene taking place in the quiet house.
James brushed a strand of Catherine’s hair from her face and kissed her forehead. He was filled with so many conflicting emotions, it was difficult for him to form the words of comfort he knew his daughter needed.
“We have all done a great injustice to that young man. What Rose had you do was wrong, Catherine. You could have come home to us and young Tom would have been loved just as much, father or no father.”
“I know, Da. But I love Patrick with all my heart and I know it’s selfish of me to say this, but if letting him think that Tom is his son allows me to spend the rest of my days with him, bearing his children, then the lie is worth it. Please don’t breathe a word of this to anyone, especially not to Patrick. Promise me that you will carry this secret to your grave, as I will. I know that Rose will, too. We cannot tell a soul, promise me, Da, on Ma’s life.”
“You know that I’ll keep your secret, I don’t have to swear on anyone’s life. I’m feeling bad enough about the way I’ve treated young Patrick that I could never bring myself to tell him the truth about his son. It would break my heart to be told such a thing about one of my own children. No, Patrick must never be told of this and as much as it grieves me to see you leave, it may be for the best. A fresh start, with Thomas and Lily to help ye settle in and keep an eye out for ye.”
“What about Ma? She’s in an awful state. It’s the children she’s hurting over more than anything. Did you hear what she said about grandchildren?” Catherine asked.
“Aye, pelting her hens and plucking her flowers. She was always one for the drama, that’s where our Mary-Anne gets it from. Don’t worry about your ma. I’ll get her to see the sense in what ye’re doing. Sure, Maggie is more than likely at that task this very minute, while drowning her in cups of strong tea.” James pinched his daughter’s chin between a calloused finger and thumb. “Come on now, Catherine, dry up those tears and go wash that sweet face of yours. We have a farewell party to organize for your brother and his lovely new wife. I doubt that your mother’s heart will be in it, so it will be up to you and your sisters to give Maggie a hand.”
Catherine hugged her father as tightly as she could and offered a silent prayer for having him in her life. Of everyone she would be leaving behind when they left Ireland, he was the one she would miss the most.