Fields of Home (11 page)

Michael jumped in front of him. ‘They’re over here, sir!’ he said, leading the way. Lord Henry and Toss followed.

The mare was nervous, standing with one foot lifted slightly.

‘She’s lame, Lord Henry,’ said Toss. ‘She kicked
against the stall.’

Morning Boy stood close to her, ears flat, ignoring them. His head was turned as he tried to lick at the blistered side of his back, while he smelt the ointment that Toss had helped Michael rub on him.

Lord Henry squinted in the sunlight, looking at them both.

‘He’s Ragusa’s foal,’ Michael interrupted his thoughts, knowing that the colt looked anything but a champion at the moment.

‘Of course! Ragusa was one of the best fillies ever,’ murmured Lord Henry. ‘A great racehorse. Toss, do you think we could get the two of them to Suffolk with us next week?’

Toss looked at the mare and the frightened colt. ‘’Twould be too much for them. The mare’s not a lot of good now. No, they wouldn’t survive such a long journey.’

Michael tried to hide the sadness that choked him as the horses’ fate was decided. Racehorses were temperamental and needed a lot of care and looking after. Being bred for speed, highly-strung and sensitive, they weren’t much good for anything else. No-one would buy them in this condition.

‘How much money do I owe you, lad?’ asked Lord Henry suddenly.

‘Two months,’ said Michael, looking down at the
ground, embarrassed.

‘Would you consider taking one of them in payment for money owed? I want you to know, too, that I’m very grateful for the heroism you displayed in rescuing some of the female staff on Tuesday.’

Michael nodded, not sure if he was being given the colt or the sad-eyed mare.

‘Begging your pardon, your Lordship,’ interrupted Toss, ‘them two are a pair and Michael here would be the only one with a chance of making something of either of them. Let him have the two.’

Michael stood stock still, trying to disguise the warm feeling of hope coursing through his veins.

‘Deserves a chance then, does he? Well, I suppose I should give them both to him, part payment and part reward. They’re yours, young man, all yours.’

‘Thank you, sir, I’ll do my level best with the horses. They’ll be looked after, that I promise you.’

‘I’ll take your word, then, Michael O’Driscoll, I’ll take your word for it.’ Lord Henry Buckland returned to the trap, clicking the horse on to take him away from the stableyard, the place he had loved.

* * *

Michael let what had happened sink in. Imagine, he was the new owner of Glengarry and Morning Boy!

‘You stupid eejit,’ shouted Pat Gallagher. ‘What use
are the like of those horses to you? You should have waited for your proper wages. The mare is too lame, you know she should be put down by rights. How the heck are you going to feed the likes of those two when the winter sets in, or keep them warm and dry?’

‘Michael, are you mad!’ argued Brian. ‘You could have gone to England or America. What’s the use of being lumbered with two horses that aren’t much good?’

Michael shrugged. Perhaps his friends were right. How could the likes of him keep such horses?

Toss didn’t say much. ‘I’m moving to England with the family to see what’s what over there. I’ll try out the place for a while, anyway, since there’s not much on offer for me here.’

By late afternoon a procession of servants started to file down the long avenue, carrying whatever bits and pieces they’d managed to save from the fire. Michael waited till he spotted Mercy Farrell’s toss of dark hair. They ran and embraced each other.

‘Mercy! Where are you going?’ he asked.

‘I’m going back home, Michael. My folks will be right surprised to see me after such a long time, let me tell you. Lizzie is going to England with the family but they don’t have need of any more household staff.’ Mercy looked at him anxiously. ‘And you, Michael? What are you going to do?’

‘Oh Mercy! I wish none of this had happened. Now I’ve nothing to offer you.’ He held her hand, feeling miserable and lonely.

‘It’ll be all right, Michael. I’m only going to Athlone, my old home town. Ask anybody where Paddy Farrell’s is and they’ll point ye to my father’s blacksmith’s yard. I won’t be too far away.’

He tilted her face to his, kissing her eyelids and nose, and lastly her soft, warm lips.

‘I won’t forget you, Michael, my love,’ she breathed gently.

‘I’ll find you, Mercy. When everything is right, I promise.’

Michael cursed the blackguards responsible for all this – Peadar and his cohorts. They had ruined everything around them. Now even the girl he loved was going from him too. She kissed him one last time before getting on her way, leaving him on the tree-lined avenue behind her.

* * *

Michael remembered that when he was a youngster, just a little lad, he would bring every injured animal or bird that he found home to the shop in Castletaggart, and there in the back kitchen his two great-aunts, Nano and Lena, and his sister, Eily, would fuss over the poor creature and help him take care of it. The shop was long gone, but maybe he could go to his older sister
and her family? Eily was good and kind and sensible. She’d know what to do. John and herself would help with the horses, he was sure of it. They had a farm, just a small holding, but at least it would be somewhere safe for himself and the horses for a while. Yes, that’s what he would do. Once the horses had healed up a bit and were ready for the road, that was the very place Michael would go. It would be just wonderful to see Eily and Nano and Mary-Brigid and little Jodie and John once more.

CHAPTER 13

Night Watch

EILY PACED UP AND DOWN
the flag-stone floor as darkness wrapped itself around the cottage and filled the small window panes.

‘What ails ye, child?’ enquired Nano anxiously. ‘You’ve wiped that table top at least three times and you’re making Mary-Brigid and myself dizzy with your to-ing and fro-ing. You’re like a hen on a hot griddle! For heaven’s sake, will ye sit down and relax for a while!’

‘I’m really worried, Nano,’ Eily sighed, running her fingers through her hair. ‘John should have been home at least two hours ago and still there’s no sign of him! Do you think something might have happened to him?’

‘Shush, Eily!’ cautioned Nano, touching her finger to her lips as she noticed Mary-Brigid lift her head and look over from the mat near the fire, where she was
playing with Scrap, the orange kitten. ‘He’ll be along soon, I’m sure, Eily. You’ll see, he’ll have a good reason for missing his meal.’

‘Aye, maybe you’re right,’ murmured Eily, trying to calm herself as she peered out into the blackness yet again. ‘Mary-Brigid, you should have been in bed hours ago. You’ll be falling asleep in school tomorrow. Come on, I’ll tuck you in.’

Mary-Brigid gave a huge yawn. She didn’t want to go to bed when her daddy wasn’t home. What if he’d got lost in the woods or the fairies had taken him? ‘No!’ she said stubbornly. ‘I must stay awake till Daddy comes.’

Her mother knelt down near her. ‘Listen, pet, I know you’re worried and scared, just the same as I am, but you have to sleep. I promise that just as soon as Daddy comes in he’ll go and say goodnight to you.’

Mary-Brigid still tickled the kitten’s pale tummy fur, considering. ‘Can Scrap sleep at the bottom of the bed tonight, then?’

‘Why, you little weasel!’ teased her mother. ‘Poor Nano mightn’t fancy sharing the bed with the cat!’

‘Please, Nano!’ begged Mary-Brigid. ‘Please! Please!’

‘Why is it that the child can always wheedle her way around me?’ said Nano, leaving down the sock she was darning. ‘You can take the cat for a while for company, but he’ll have to make do with the kitchen when I decide to go to bed.’

‘Thank you, Nano! You’re the best auntie in the world,’ smiled Mary-Brigid sleepily, clutching the kitten as she followed her mother.

Two more hours had passed and Nano had dozed off – she had insisted on waiting up with Eily. Suddenly from outside, Eily heard two strange male voices. Scared, she reached for the long iron poker resting on the hearth. They were coming nearer the house. What did they want? Maybe they were drunk or something? Then they tapped lightly on the door.

‘Missus, open up!’ someone called. ‘Don’t be afraid – we won’t harm you.’

‘Go away!’ she whispered loudly.

‘Missus! We’ve your man, John, with us. Open up and let us in!’

Eily stood stock still, not knowing whether to believe him or not.

‘Eily! Eily!’ She recognised her husband’s voice immediately, and she rushed to open the door. John was there, being supported by two strangers; he was barely able to stand.

‘God almighty!’ Eily screamed.

‘There was a bit of a fight, Mrs Powers, at the tenants’ meeting and –’

‘What? Who were you fighting? John, how did you get involved in this? Are you hurt bad?’ Eily screamed in confusion at her young husband.

The men ignored her and lowered John down onto the old fireside chair.

‘Ahhh!’ he moaned in pain.

‘He’ll be fine, missus. It just looks a lot worse than it is,’ mumbled the older, grey-haired man, as he shuffled, half-embarrassed, to the door.

‘Thank you very much for bringing him home,’ Eily said woodenly, longing for these strangers and the trouble they’d brought to be out of her home. As if reading her mind, they slipped away back into the night. With relief, she closed the door behind them. ‘John, what in heaven’s name happened?’

‘I was at a tenants’ meeting,’ he muttered through swollen, bleeding lips. ‘But it was afterwards it happened, when we started to walk home. Paddy Hennessy ran into that gombeen man, Hussey, the agent. He started shouting at him and calling him names. Hussey told him to stop, but you know what Paddy’s like when he’s riled. He must have gone crazy because he went for Hussey, jumping right on him, swinging out of his jacket. Then Hussey took a swipe at him and Hennessy went mad altogether. Next thing I knew, the two of them were on the ground kicking and punching the daylights out of each other. Myself and a few of the lads tried to break it up, and then Hussey’s friends came out of the hotel and decided to have a go at us. We had to try and defend ourselves, Eily.’

John’s face was badly bruised and cut, one eye totally swollen and closed. Both his hands were bloodied, knuckles torn and sore. Under his shirt, his skin was almost pulped where the mark of heavy hob-nailed boots had been stamped across his ribcage.

Eily filled a basin with warm water, and began to bathe and clean his wounds with a towel.

Nano stirred. Her eyes opened wide when she saw the state John was in. She came over to comfort him.

‘I’m all right, Nano,’ he grimaced, trying to make light of it. ‘I just got caught in the middle of a fight.’

The old lady fussed over him and insisted on making him a cup of tea. He did his best to drink it, though it burned his cracked, sore lips. Once his face was cleaned, and all the blood washed away, the swelling and bruising could be seen clearly.

‘What a mess!’ he tried to joke, as they both looked at him.

‘Who did this to you, my love?’ Eily asked, stroking his cheek gently.

‘A few right boyos, friends of Hussey’s. But I think it was a constable that got my nose!’

‘A constable! Oh my God, John, what will happen now?’ Eily moaned.

‘I don’t know,’ he sighed wearily, hiding his face in his hands.

‘You don’t know!’ screamed Eily, almost hysterical.
‘We might have a constable banging on our door in the morning, and all you can say is you don’t know!’

‘Hush, Eily!’ soothed Nano. ‘Did anyone recognise you, John?’

‘Well, maybe Hussey did. But, Nano, I swear I didn’t lay a finger on him. Paddy beat him up real bad … I didn’t know any of the others as far as I can remember.’

‘Are you sure, John?’ questioned Nano, gazing seriously at him.

‘Aye, Nano! I’m fair sure and certain.’

‘Then we just have to pray that trouble stays away from this door,’ she murmured. ‘That’s all we can do. The police will be after Paddy. They’ll hunt him down.’

Eily sat down opposite John, her eyes almost closed as she tried to hide the mounting sense of fear within her and her anger at John’s putting their tenancy at risk.

‘I think I’ll away to my bed,’ said Nano diplomatically, and she disappeared into the small back room she shared with Mary-Brigid.

Eily listened as John told her about the new landlord Dennis Ormonde’s plans to merge many of the small holdings and farms, getting rid of what he considered the poor and useless tenants – like old Agnes. Hussey himself was supposed to be getting one of these newer, enlarged farms, so naturally it was in his best
interests to rid Ormonde’s land of as many small tenants as possible. The landlord was keen to sell – there were rumours of large betting debts. Without a doubt he was going to put up the rents, which would drive more people away.

‘Put the rent up! Again? John, how can we possibly manage that?’ sobbed Eily.

‘No-one is going to put me off the land that my family have farmed for generations,’ John said firmly. ‘Eily, this land should rightfully be ours and I’ll not give it up without a fight.’