Mary-Anne knew what she was doing. Mrs. Gilmore was enchanted by her and Doctor Gilmore was more attentive than ever. For a young woman who had never even courted a man, she was quickly learning how to play the game – one in which she made the rules. As the daughter of a fisherman she had a good knowledge of how to lure her catch, what bait to use and the best time to cast a net. Mrs. Gilmore was a very sick woman and Mary-Anne could see that the doctor had great affection for his wife. However, the poor woman had let it slip in a moment of despair over her illness, that her husband treated her like a fragile younger sister, refusing to share her bed.
If Mrs. Gilmore became pregnant one more time it would be to her detriment. She had miscarried four children already and the last one almost killed her. The couple had been warned by every consultant they had been to, that it was vital conception be avoided, at all cost. Well, it appeared to Mary-Anne that the price they had to pay was very high indeed, with her mistress crying herself to sleep most nights and the poor doctor driving himself demented. Mary-Anne knew from her own childhood that in times of famine a person would eat almost anything, what source it came from didn’t matter. Mrs. Gilmore had a hunger for a child and as for her husband, he too had a craving, and neither one could satisfy the other.
Mary-Anne smiled as she waved goodbye to her family on the quayside and blew a parting kiss to her sister, Catherine, who appeared to be crying. A feeling of freedom and exhilaration shot through her body, almost lifting her off her feet. Raising herself on her toes, Mary-Anne waved a handkerchief over her head and turned to smile up at the gentleman next to her. Doctor Gilmore was gazing almost trancelike at someone below. He had a wistful expression on his face and Mary-Anne was surprised that he should feel that way about leaving Ireland. She scanned the crowded dock but could not see anyone in particular looking in his direction.
The McGrother family stood together on the quayside, and waited until the steam ship was well out into the bay. James was upset to see his wife so distraught at Mary-Anne’s departure. Mary was openly weeping while clinging to her husband’s arm. She wasn’t sure what had hurt her the most, her daughter’s eagerness to leave them, or the indifference the family had shown on hearing she would be taking the Gilmores up on their offer of permanent employment in England. It seemed strange to the distraught mother that Catherine was the only one, besides herself, to weep so bitterly as the vessel carried Mary-Anne away from them. Mary came to the conclusion that her eldest child was feeling remorse for the hostility she had recently directed towards her own sister.
Notably absent from the quayside was Patrick, who had elected to stay home with the younger children. The only two members of the McGrother family wearing genuine smiles on their faces, were young Jamie, who had never been close to Mary-Anne, and his Aunt Maggie. The older woman’s face beamed with such happiness, you would think she was welcoming the return of a loved one, instead of bidding them farewell.
Thomas and Lily remained in Dundalk while the rest of the family headed home. He didn’t want their last few days in Ireland to be miserable and that’s how his mother was making him feel. She was unable to hide the pain from him every time he looked at her, so Thomas had booked a hotel room in Belfast for himself and Lily that evening. He looked forward to the train journey and the opportunity to view the countryside as a tourist, passing through a landscape that no longer felt like home to him.
******
When Catherine arrived home she was surprised to find Tom and Maisie laying the table while Patrick dished up a meal he had prepared for the family. The smell of bacon made her realize how hungry she was.
“We have enough meat from our last pig to keep us going until we’re ready to leave,” said Patrick.
“I think we should give the wee banbh to Ma, he will be a fine sized pig by the end of the year.”
“What about Maggie? Ah sure, I suppose she’ll be spending most of her day with your ma, once we’re gone. Did she not come back with you?” asked Patrick.
“No, Ma is in a terrible state so Maggie said she would stay with her for the rest of the day. It was awful on the journey back from town. Myself and Breege walked so that Da could drive the cart home faster and get Ma inside the house. She kept pleading with me to change my mind about America and blaming you for taking us all away,” Catherine took a mouthful of food and rolled her eyes at the children. “Your Da is a good cook, isn’t he? I think it’s himself should stay at home and keep house, while I go out to work, once we’re in America.”
The children cheered as Patrick took Catherine’s apron from the hook it was hanging on and tied it around his waist. Then he crossed the room to take her bonnet from the top of the dresser and when he turned around wearing it, they screeched with delight. Pulling Catherine up from her seat, Patrick told her she must learn how to lead in a waltz, if she were to be the man of the house. The children clapped their hands and Catherine laughed as the two of them collapsed in a tangled heap on their bed in the corner of the room.
After their meal, the young family took a long walk and ended up in Haggardstown cemetery. Catherine sat the children down by Pat and Annie’s grave and talked of her childhood. She recounted amusing incidents about the elderly couple who had been like grandparents to her, and promised to tell them some of Annie’s ghost stories when they were older.
Later that evening, with the children asleep in the small back room, a very contented Patrick drew his wife onto his knee as he sat by the stove he had brought from England. It had been worth forgoing the night’s fishing to spend it with Catherine. He could feel how relaxed she was and he was savouring every moment of the day they had spent together.
“Should we sell the stove before we go, or give it to your Ma, along with the banbh?”
“I’d like to give it to Ma, if you don’t mind, Patrick. It would make life easier for her, and Da will be happy at how much longer his sods of turf will burn for.”
“Speaking of your da, he’s been very friendly towards me all of a sudden. I almost fell over yesterday, when he offered me his hand and said he was sorry for misjudging me.”
Catherine held her breath, worried that her father might have betrayed her confidence in some way.
“When was that? What did he say?” she asked. “What gave him the change of heart?”
“It was after your sister’s outburst. He said it was Mary-Anne’s behaviour that made him realize how wrong he had been to bear a grudge against me for so long and he asked me to forgive him,” Patrick kissed the hand resting on his shoulder. “He meant it, too. I could see it in his eyes.”
“Did you mean it when you spoke about me working, when we are settled in America, Patrick?”
“Why not? Sure you go out to work here? Mind you, I’m not staying at home, keeping house, if that’s what you’re thinking,” he laughed.
“I wouldn’t want you to. You’re a grand cook, Patrick Gallagher,” Catherine paused to glance over at the table, “But you’re no good at cleaning up the mess you leave behind.”
Patrick agreed and said if they got a maid to take care of the cleaning, then he would be delighted to stay at home and housekeep, while Catherine went off to work each morning.
“Sure, while we’re at it, we might hire ourselves a butler. And a cook – that way I can spend my days at leisure. I’m sure I’ll find a nice little inn to frequent while you’re busy earning a wage, my love,” Patrick leaned back and stretched out his arms.
“Don’t forget a nanny for the children, my dear. We don’t want them wearing you out now, do we? I shall want you fresh as a daisy when I come home after a hard day’s work,” Catherine tickled his ribs.
Patrick embraced her, pinning her arms to her sides and buried his face in her soft hair, bemoaning the fact that Maggie was not yet home. He wanted to carry his wife to their bed but feared her aunt might walk in at any minute.
“She’s very late, I hope Ma is alright. Maybe I should have called to the house on the way home,” Catherine’s voice was filled with concern.
Fearing a cloud might descend and shatter the pleasant humour between them, Patrick assured his wife that her mother was in good hands and was probably fast asleep as they spoke
“Let’s get into bed and speak some more of our new life in America,” suggested Patrick.
Once they were under the covers with the curtain drawn around their bed, they reminded each other of the positive things that Thomas had told them about life in New York. He had warned them of quite a few negative aspects, too, but neither one wanted to spoil the enthusiasm of the other by mentioning them.
“Lily told me how fond the young Irish women over there are of their attire. She said they are to be seen stepping out on a Sunday morning, in the latest fashion. After they have sent money home, they seem to spend the rest on clothes and hats. Lily says my needlework would be in great demand in New York. I could start with just one customer and if she is happy with my work, then more will follow. She knows some seamstresses who work from home, as it’s better than factory work and I can still keep an eye on the children. Lily says that in time I might earn a pretty penny.”
Patrick was very quiet as she spoke and Catherine felt sure he’d fallen asleep.
“Well then? Do you think I might earn a pretty penny or not?”
“I think you can do anything you put your mind to, my love,” he whispered. “And you can thank those radical meetings I attended for my change of heart about my wife taking on employment. Why, I would even encourage you to cast a vote, if that ever comes about.”
“Merciful heaven, Patrick Gallagher, why on earth should I worry over political matters when I have you to do that for me?” Catherine smothered a laugh as the door creaked open.
The young couple held their breath as Maggie tip-toed across the floor in the darkness and found her way to the room she shared with the children. There wasn’t a sound stirring in the house and she was sure that Patrick would have gone out in the boat that night, the weather being at its best for fishing. She didn’t want to disturb Catherine, knowing how upset she had been earlier that day on the quayside in Dundalk.
“That poor girl will need her sleep tonight if she’s to face her mother in the morning,” sighed Maggie as she undressed. “I’m fair worn out after the drama of today, and that’s a fact.”