PEGGY MASHED THE POTATOES, almost pulverising them. Mrs O’Connor arched her eyebrows in surprise. She watched as the young maid walloped them down into the warming bowl.
Two days ago she had said goodbye to Sarah in a hurry, standing outside the side-door of the factory. Both of them were in tears as they hugged each other. It might be years before they’d see each other again, if ever.
Sarah had promised to write and let her know of all her adventures. James and John had already purchased a wagon and a pair of fine strong horses, and they were now busy gathering supplies for the journey ahead.
Peggy just couldn’t imagine life in Boston without Sarah and John and James. Who would she visit when they were gone? Who would she tell stories of Mrs O’Connor and the Rowans to? Who would she spend her days off with? Who would she twirl and dance around the room with at the next céilí if James was not there?
She pushed a piece of hair out of her eyes with her sleeve, trying not to sniff.
Mrs O’Connor’s attention was drawn to a movement down on the pathway. It was a tall young man, striding towards the kitchen door.
‘Peggy!’ called the cook. ‘There’s a visitor at the door!’
Peggy looked up from her work, and, wiping her hands on her apron, went to the door. There was no one there. Then she spotted him standing under the wide cherry tree waiting for her. It was James.
Her heart skipped a beat as she ran towards him. Maybe Sarah was sick or something? She could tell he was nervous.
‘Peggy, I couldn’t go without saying goodbye to you properly,’ he said as soon as she reached him.
‘Oh!’ Peggy didn’t know how to respond.
‘We’re leaving first thing in the morning and I just had to see you, one last time.’
She bit her lip hard, trying to stop the tears.
‘I made a mess of it the last time we met,’ he continued, shyly. ‘It sounded like I didn’t care that much whether you came with us … but I do care … I … I love you very much, Peggy. I’ve loved you practically from the first day I met you on the Fortunata.’
Peggy stared at him. He had lost his nervousness now, and looked earnest.
He spoke urgently. ‘I waited and waited, Peggy, to give you time to grow up. Perhaps I waited too long.’
Peggy blushed, looking down at her apron.
‘John and I always planned to work a few years in the east before heading out to the new frontier. But you had always been part of my plan, Peggy. It’s your face I want to see first thing in the morning and last thing at night. That’s why I asked you to be my wife.’
Peggy put her face in her hands, trying to compose herself.
He touched her hair gently. ‘I wanted you to know that before I left. Goodbye, Peggy, my love!’
Peggy raised her head. He was looking at her so sadly it almost broke her heart.
‘James!’ she screamed like a wild-cat, flinging herself at him, pulling his face down to meet hers. ‘Don’t you dare go without me!’ she said in between the warmth of his kisses.
Then, holding her skirt and apron, she flew back up the path, pushed in the kitchen door, much to the surprise of Mrs O’Connor and the housekeeper, and chased up the back stairs. Out of breath and panting, she kicked open the door of her room.
She grabbed her battered hold-all and started to pull stockings and underwear from the makeshift line she and Kitty had strung from the beams. She added her two good blouses and fine wool skirt and the lavender-coloured floral print dress she had saved for and bought last year. Her two nightdresses – one dirty, one clean – her flannel, cologne and a bar of scented soap. From the hook behind the door she took her warm winter coat, and her stout black brogues from under the bed. She retrieved her bank book, along with some letters from under the mattress, a few books, and finally her family bible, where Nano had written the names on her family tree. Soon there would be another name added to it when Peggy O’Driscoll married James Connolly. She ran her finger excitedly along the page of writing.
She stopped and stared. The room seemed suddenly empty, the two brass beds deserted. Fingering the horse-hair bracelet that Michael had made for her when she was leaving home for America, Peggy remembered the good times here with Kitty, but now she knew there would be good times ahead too. With a sigh, she pulled the door closed after her, frightened that James would be gone or that she had imagined it all.
He was not. He was sitting in the kitchen with the cook and the housekeeper who were chatting away to him like old friends.
Perhaps Miss Whitman would insist on her working her proper notice or object to her leaving like this? Peggy felt scared as she stood in the kitchen and lowered her bag to the floor.
‘Miss Whitman, I’m sorry about my notice, but I … I have to go … now,’ she said firmly, her eyes meeting those of her future husband.
Miss Whitman did not seem too put out. ‘There’s a lot to be said for the rules of the heart! You don’t want to end up like me, Peggy lass.’
‘Will you explain to Mrs Rowan about me leaving?’ Peggy said. ‘She’s been so kind to me over the years and I hate letting her down.’
Mrs O’Connor was blowing her nose loudly. ‘Oh Peggy, dear! I’ll truly miss you. What will I do without your big brown eyes listening to my stories and cheering me up?’
Peggy hugged the motherly cook. ‘You’ll tell Kitty what happened, won’t you? And send me her address when I’m settled? I’ll write to you all. I promise.’
‘Of course!’ Mrs O’Connor agreed. ‘Now, I’ve told your young man that Father Vincent does the early mass in Saint Patrick’s – he married my daughter, you know. He’ll look after you.’
‘Oh thank you, Mrs O’Connor,’ beamed Peggy. ‘Sarah can be my bridesmaid –’
‘Peggy, what will I do about your wages?’ broke in Miss Whitman. ‘There’s at least a month due and Mr Rowan had intended a special bonus for all the help with the wedding.’
Peggy considered. She had her bank book. There would be money there to purchase lumber and horse-feed, and curtains and blankets – all the things herself and James might need. Now that she would have a home of her own to build, Eily would miss the small twice-a-year gifts she sent her.
‘I’m not sure where I’ll be next month or the month after,’ she said. ‘I’ll tell you what, Miss Whitman, would you ever be so kind as to send it to my sister, Eily, back home in Ireland? Here, I’ll scribble the address for you. Tell her it’s a present from me.’
Hugging them both and laughing with pleasure, Peggy O’Driscoll said her last farewells to Rushton. Then she and James sat arm-in-arm in the cart as they drove away from the house.