Authors: Marita Conlon-Mckenna
Fields of Home (13 page)
‘Why, Mary-Brigid, you’re still the prettiest girl I know!’ he said, ruffling her wild, fair hair.
She was so excited that she could hardly speak. Jodie had clambered down to stand beside her, watching them. ‘This is Jodie!’ she said, pushing him forward.
‘I remember him,’ grinned Michael, ‘but he’s got as big as a house! He’s so strong I can barely lift him!’
Jodie chuckled as he was scooped up and hugged too. The little boy tugged at Michael’s cap and his uncle gave it to him. ‘Will ye mind that for me, Jodie?’ he asked. Jodie nodded proudly. Nobody had ever let him mind anything before.
‘How’s everybody, Mary-Brigid? I’m dying to see them all.’
Mary-Brigid hesitated, only for a second or two, but Michael spotted it. His twinkling eyes became serious.
‘Grand,’ she mumbled softly, knowing he didn’t believe her. ‘Mammy’s a bit sad,’ she explained,
looking down at the dust and stones and mud, ‘she’s worried about things, all sorts of things that are going on.’
‘Hmm,’ Michael replied. ‘Maybe it’s just as well I happened to come to see you all then!’
‘Who owns the horses?’ asked Mary-Brigid.
‘I do, pet! They’re both mine.’
‘Yours!’
‘Aye, I know, I can scarce believe it myself.’
‘Who gave them to you? Did you buy them?’ she asked.
‘’Tis a long story, pet, and the rest of them will want to hear it too. All I’ll tell you at the moment is that the mare is called Glengarry and the foal is Morning Boy.’
‘Can I ride them, Uncle Michael? Will you teach me?’ she pleaded.
‘They’re not fit to be ridden at the moment, dotey, but I promise to teach you once they’re able for it.’
Mary-Brigid nearly jumped with joy. She’d been up on a donkey, but never, ever on a proper horse.
‘Me too!’ copied Jodie, clasping and unclasping his hands with all the excitement.
‘You too. I promise,’ said their uncle seriously.
Mary-Brigid knew that Michael was the kind of person who kept promises and wouldn’t let you down. She was mighty glad he’d come to visit them. Maybe all her great grand-aunt’s prayers had been answered.
‘Nano! Mammy! Daddy! Come quick!’ she began to shout, running on up to the house ahead of him. ‘Mammy, it’s Michael. He’s come to stay with us! He has horses!’
THERE HAD NEVER BEEN SUCH A HOMECOMING
. Nano sat on her chair, blowing her nose loudly every now and then into a white handkerchief. Eily kept on hugging and embracing Michael.
‘I’m right glad to see you, Michael. You’ll never know how glad.’
John stood silent, and clasped Michael firmly by the hand in welcome. Michael sensed that something bad had happened, and, from the look of it, John had been in some sort of fight recently. He’d hear about it all in time.
A simple meal was prepared and they all gathered around the scrubbed, wooden table to eat. There was a huge bowl of potatoes, with freshly churned butter and
a shake of salt. There was a cool jug of Bella’s milk, and a plateful of spring onions which the adults sprinkled on their spuds. Eily blessed herself and said a special thanksgiving Grace for the food on the table and the return of her much-loved brother. ‘Amen’ echoed happily around the table.
Afterwards, Mary-Brigid helped Nano to clear the table and wash up. She knew that her mother and father and uncle had a lot to talk about, so once she was finished she slipped back outside to play and to have another look at the two horses her uncle had left grazing down in the low field.
Michael’s homecoming seemed to bring a new energy and life to the small cottage. And more than that – he brought them hope.
‘This is the finest holding in the district, John, no landlord in his right mind would get rid of such a good tenant, let alone such a good and useful farmhand!’ he assured his brother-in-law.
John Powers nodded his head. Perhaps he was worrying needlessly. Michael knew more about the gentry and landlords than he would ever know. He’d be better off trying to put this fear out of his head and get on with his day-to-day work. Anyway, rumour had it that Dennis Ormonde had taken himself back to England for a few weeks, and, as his agent, William Hussey, was still laid up after the bad beating he’d
received, things would be peaceful enough for a while.
There was much to be done as the summer sun blazed across the land, and the fields and crops and animals all clamoured for attention. Michael was pleased to help. At night he would talk with Eily of the happy and sad days when they were young, growing up in their small cottage in Duneen, where the hawthorn tree grew and their baby sister lay buried. Those had been awful times during the Great Hunger, and the memory of them seemed to be almost part of the O’Driscoll family, a big bruise that would never fade away.
Then one morning, when they least expected it, a knock came on the door while they were having their porridge.
Mary-Brigid leaped from her stool and ran to answer it. ‘’Tis a stranger!’ she whispered softly back to the rest of them.
Her father tucked his shirt into his trousers and came to the door. The man standing there had a small ginger moustache that jumped up and down as he talked. He spoke to John in a low voice and Mary-Brigid did her best to eavesdrop and catch what they were saying.
‘Due to certain circumstances and considerations, Mr Ormonde has no other option but to increase the rent.’
‘Increase the rent!’ shouted her father. ‘What happens if I don’t pay this increase – won’t pay it?’
‘Then, unfortunately, Mr Powers, you would be served a notice to quit.’
John thumped his fist against the door frame. ‘’Tis not fair!’ he protested.
‘I’m afraid fairness doesn’t come into it. This is business. Please understand I am acting on behalf of your landlord and under the instructions of Mr Hussey.’
‘Hussey!’ shouted John. ‘I knew that rat would have something to do with this. He’s had his greedy eyes set on this place for a good while.’
The messenger refused to say any more. ‘These papers are for you, Mr Powers,’ he said, handing over some pages to her father, who banged the door shut on him. ‘I’ll be back next month!’ called the man, remounting his horse.
Eily grabbed at the pieces of paper, gasping as she read them. ‘Oh my God, John! He’s doubled our rent! We’ll never be able to pay this much. Where does he expect us to get this kind of money?’
The paper was passed to Nano then to Michael.
‘I’m sorry, Eily. I was wrong about this fella,’ muttered Michael. ‘I don’t know what to say to ye both.’
‘Maybe we could raise it,’ suggested Nano. ‘There’s the furniture and the ornaments and …’
Mary-Brigid watched her mother slump, weeping, in the corner near the fire.
‘’Tis useless! Useless!’ was all she’d say. ‘You can’t escape your destiny!’
Mary-Brigid sat open-mouthed listening.
‘You can’t cheat your destiny!’ Eily was ranting now. ‘All of us were meant to go to the workhouse! We cheated it once, but now that’s where we’ll end up!’ She sobbed hysterically.
‘Hush, child! Hush,’ begged Nano. ‘We’re not done for yet.’
‘Eily, I promise you, we’ll fight this,’ said John, wrapping his arms around her. ‘No-one will take this land while there’s breath left in my body. I’ll not have my wife and children put out on the roads.’
* * *
Mary-Brigid had run to hide down by the scratchy thorn bushes, for today Muck was being sold. Their half-dozen hens were already sold off, and Maisie clucked despondently around the cottage door, searching for them.
Even from a distance she could hear the pig squealing. The sound hurt her ears and heart. The Phelan brothers were buying him. ‘He’s a fine pig, ready for butchering,’ they’d said, as Mary-Brigid had tickled Muck’s bristly head and back for the very last time.
The noise was desperate, and, by the sounds of it,
the huge pig was putting up a good fight against leaving his familiar pigpen. Mary-Brigid just couldn’t bear it. Eventually all the noise stopped, so, drying her eyes and blowing her nose, she collected herself and walked sadly back home.
Morning Boy whinnied to her as she passed him, as if he sensed her sadness.
‘Hello, Boy!’ she sighed, stopping to pat him. ‘Don’t be afraid, nothing’s going to happen to you!’ The horse gazed back at her steadily.
‘Are you all right, little one?’ Her uncle’s voice startled her.
‘Fine,’ she sniffed, knowing full well that he could tell she’d been crying. But he didn’t say a word about it and just stood beside her, looking at the horses.
‘They like you!’ he said. ‘You’re very good with the horses, Mary-Brigid.’
‘I like them too,’ she smiled. ‘Uncle Michael, what happened the girl?’
‘The girl?’ he asked, puzzled.
‘Yes, the girl you were telling me about, the one who used to own these horses?’
‘Miss Felicia?’ he said quietly. He thought of the young girl screaming as she’d watched her home burn to the ground. ‘I told you already, pet, about the house catching fire, and how the stables were destroyed …’
‘And how you rescued Mercy and some of the
others.’
‘I believe Miss Felicia went back to London with her parents and her sister, Rose. They have a large house in London and Sir Henry will probably stay there. You know, in time they’ll forget about Ireland and all that’s happened. People do forget.’
‘I’d never forget!’ Mary-Brigid swore in a small voice.
‘Aye,’ joked Michael. ‘You’re a stubborn bit of a lassie, just like Peggy. Nothing will get by you.’
She gave him a watery smile.
‘Come on, let’s get you back up to Nano and Eily, they’ll be right worried about you.’
She dragged her sleeve across her eyes and nose, drying them hastily.
‘Ready, pet?’
‘Aye.’ She nodded.
‘I promise, Mary-Brigid, I will do everything I can to help you and the family,’ said Michael, taking her hand. ‘We’ll just have to find the money somehow.’
‘
A DAY OUT IN THE FRESH AIR
blackberry picking would do you the world of good, Eily,’ Nano had suggested. ‘’Twould help you forget your troubles.’
The air was still and warm as Eily, Nano and Mary-Brigid set out across the fields to go blackberry picking. Ahead of them a tangled, winding hedgerow of lush brambles meandered for what seemed like miles, before the ground finally rose gently upwards towards the slopes of the Giant’s Bed.
They each carried a pail. Mary-Brigid’s was the smallest – and how she longed to fill it. Each curving branch was laden down with the weight of huge clusters of shiny purple-black fruit.
‘I’ve never seen the like of it,’ murmured Nano.
‘Be careful of those thorns, Mary-Brigid,’ advised Eily, ‘and make sure to check that there are no maggots in the berries.’
Mary-Brigid nodded; she was just itching to get picking. She stuffed the first few blackberries into her mouth, relishing the strong, sweet taste, then good sense prevailed and she began to follow the example of her mother and Nano and drop them into her pail. She watched the way her mother’s fingers flew along the branches. Nano picked slowly and steadily. At one stage her wide black skirt got caught up in some thorns and Mary-Brigid had to rescue her.
‘What would I do without you, child?’ chuckled Nano, ‘I’m rightly stuck.’
It was hot, and after a while Mary-Brigid wished that she had brought a sun-bonnet as she could feel herself getting too sticky and warm. Luckily, Eily had a can of water and the three of them sat in the shade and drank from it. Mary-Brigid knew that she must look a sight with her hands and arms and chin all stained with the bright purple juice. Then Nano took a bit of a rest as the others worked on.
‘Mammy, there’s lashings of them, look!’ Mary-Brigid pointed out, as she moved along, pushing against the trailing brambles. She picked low down as her mother stretched and picked above her, until both buckets were almost full.
‘There’ll be plenty of eating in this lot,’ smiled Eily. ‘Jams and fillings for pies and tarts and, best of all, fresh with a jug of cream. You and Daddy and Jodie will be sick of blackberries in a few weeks’ time.’