The rabbit pie was delicious. There wasn’t much talking done as they ate. The four of them were relishing the meal, the best any of them had eaten in the past few months. All had managed to exist on meagre servings of vegetables mainly and, occasionally, a small portion of fish with a chunk of bread, a piece of bacon or a scrape of dripping. Food was scarce and they were hungry most of the time.
Once the first pie had been well and truly demolished, Mrs O’Malley pushed back her chair and stood. Her eyes swept over them, and she smiled. ‘I see ye liked the first pie, so I think we should try the second.’
When no one answered her, just looked astonished more than anything else, she remarked, ‘I did make two pies, ye knows.’
Blackie spoke up. ‘Are ye sure, Mrs Martha? Don’t ye want to keep the other one for tomorrow?’
She shook her head. ‘I’m having a serving, so why not finish it among us? Michael? Siobhan? How about the two of ye?’
Michael said, ‘Thank you, Mrs O’Malley, I’d love a bit more, I would that.’
Mrs O’Malley smiled, obviously pleased. Turning to his sister, she raised a brow. ‘And Siobhan, will ye take a piece?’
‘Thanks, I will, Mrs O’Malley. It’s the best rabbit pie I’ve ever eaten. Delicious.’ There was a small pause before she added, ‘Rabbit tastes like chicken, at least when it comes out of your oven.’
Mrs O’Malley brought the dish to the table, and each of them served themselves. After giving Blackie the dish to hold, Mrs O’Malley put a spoonful on her own plate, then took it back to the table near the sink.
When they had finished, Blackie and Michael helped Mrs O’Malley carry the empty plates to the sink. Siobhan joined them and within half an hour they were all sitting around the fire, holding a mug of tea, relaxing in the warmth and comfort of the small kitchen. Their bellies were filled with good food, and they were peaceful in their surroundings.
The following afternoon, Siobhan and Michael arrived home early. For once, Blackie was in their cottage and not at Mrs O’Malley’s.
When they walked in they found him polishing his boots. He looked up from the task when he saw them, and smiled. ‘It’s only five, did her ladyship let ye off early?’
‘She was away in Tralee for the day, so I took meself off.’ Michael grinned and took something out of his coat pocket, then shrugged the coat off his shoulders. After hanging the overcoat on a hook on the wall, he walked over to the fireplace where Blackie sat with his boots and a shoe brush.
Siobhan took her coat off, hung it on another peg on the wall, and hurried to the fireplace. ‘Is the water in the kettle hot, Blackie?’
‘Indeed it is, and I can make a pot of tea if ye want.’ He looked at Siobhan and then Michael hungrily. ‘Did Cook send us anything for our tea?’
Siobhan nodded. ‘It’s in the bag near the door. That’s where I put it when we came in.’
‘What did she give us?’ Blackie wondered out loud.
‘A big jar of broth. It’s a nice tea, Blackie.’
He nodded. ‘Cook never lets us starve.’
‘Yes, she’s been kind since you came to us.’ Michael walked over to the fireplace and sat down opposite his twin. Gazing at his cousin, Michael took the piece of paper he was holding and smoothed it out. After scanning it, he said to Blackie, ‘Uncle Pat sent us a telegram today. It came to us at the mansion.’
Blackie dropped the boot and stood up, surprised, staring at Michael, putting out his hand. ‘Can I read it, please?’
Michael gave it to him, and explained, ‘He’s ready for you to go to Leeds. You leave here for Queenstown and go straight to the docks and get on the boat. Uncle Pat will be waiting there at the docks in Liverpool.’
Blackie read every word for himself, filled with relief and happiness. He was flying away at last! A thought struck him. ‘How do I get to Queenstown? Do I walk there, Michael? Or try for a lift?’
‘’Course not. I will talk to Finn Ryan. His father bought an old gig from his lordship last year. He – Finn, that is – purchased a horse. He has a … a sort of service, taking people where they want to go.’
‘I remember. Ye will hire him to take me to the port? Is that it?’
‘Yes. With me.’
‘I can go alone,’ Blackie protested.
‘No. I will take charge of things.’
‘I’m thirteen. Grown up, Michael.’
‘Not quite. Dennis O’Malley will meet us at the docks in Queenstown. He’s going to see you safely on to the boat to Liverpool and then Uncle Pat will take over.’
‘I am big for me age, and I can look after myself. Ye taught me to fight good.’
‘I did, Blackie, and I trust you. I know you’re capable and all you say is true. But—’
‘I’m strong and clever.’
Michael put his hand on Blackie’s arm affectionately. His voice was calm when he said, ‘Yes, you are, but the world is a weird place, full of strange folk who want to take advantage of a boy.’
Siobhan said, ‘We want you to be safe, Blackie.’