The Letter (32 page)

Tina rubbed her face with her hands before continuing.

‘I remember him taking a step towards me and grabbing my hair. Then he punched me in the stomach and my legs just buckled underneath me. I tried to tell him that he had got it all wrong, but then I felt the blood oozing out down below and I blacked out.’

William was aghast. ‘I feel sick,’ he whispered. ‘If Rick had not seen Billy’s letter then you would still have your daughter.’ He got up and heaved open the sash window, gulping in the fresh air. Tina crossed the room and placed her hands on his broad shoulders.

‘I don’t think of it like that. I’ve learned not to. Rick was an evil, spiteful bully and any one thing could have caused him to lash out. He’s to blame and nobody else. It’s taken me a while to accept that, but now I know it’s true. I believe it. It’s that belief that helps me move forward little by little. I was the victim, me and my baby girl and none of it was my fault.’

William turned round and embraced Tina firmly. He buried his head in her long dark hair. It smelled of the outside. Freshly cut grass mingled with the smell of an evening bonfire.

‘You are an awesome woman,’ was all he managed to say.

*

Father Drummond was not used to rising early. At the age of ninety six, he felt he had earned the right to stay in bed as long as he wished, all day if he pleased. This morning, however, his housekeeper-cum-nurse-cum-dictator had informed him that he had visitors arriving at ten. This meant being wrestled from his bed at eight so that he could be bathed, shaved and dressed in good time. He lay back on his bed and reluctantly let Gina lather his face with shaving foam. She took hold of the cut-throat razor and pulled his skin tight as she ran the blade over it. Wispy grey hairs came away easily and she wiped the blade with a facecloth. On the second stroke she nicked his skin slightly and a minute speck of blood mingled with the shaving foam.

Father Drummond was not amused. ‘For the love of God, Gina. Can’t you for once shave my face without me needing a blood a transfusion?’

Gina tutted and carried on with the task in hand.

‘Stop exaggerating, Father. I don’t know what you’ve got against those electric razors anyway. It would be much easier for me to use one of those.’

‘I’ve been using a cut-throat all my life and I don’t intend to change my ways now.’

Gina cast her eyes to the ceiling and with a few more swift strokes the job was complete.

‘There you are, Father Drummond, all done.’

‘Hmm. Are my ears still attached?’

Gina ignored him and began to take off his pyjama top. ‘You need a clean pair, so you do. I don’t know how you mange to spill so much down your front. Now, let’s see. Do you want to put a suit on?’

Father Drummond looked confused for a second. ‘Who did you say was coming again?’

Gina was exasperated. ‘I told you. His name is William Lane and he is looking to trace his mother. Her name was Christina Skinner and she was sent here from England to have her baby. She lived with her sister whose surname was McBride and she gave birth in the convent. Father McIntyre gave him your details as all this happened thirty-odd years ago and he thought you might remember the McBride family, although I doubt it very much considering I’ve told you all this once not ten minutes since and you have forgotten it already.’

He scowled at Gina as she scrubbed mercilessly under his arms with the rough facecloth. Little did she know, he thought. Of course he could remember the McBride family. He had been their priest since 1903. He had conducted the funerals of both Alroy and Mary McBride. He had been both a priest and a friend to their daughter Kathleen. He had carried out Kathleen’s dying wish, for goodness sake. She had been adamant that her wayward niece give birth in the convent and he had made sure all her wishes were carried out exactly as she had planned. Gina didn’t know what she was talking about. There was nothing wrong with his memory.

Gina greeted William and Tina warmly and showed them into the front parlour. The old priest’s house was enormous and the interior smelled musty, as though it wasn’t even inhabited. Tina wrinkled her nose absently.

‘Half the rooms are closed up now,’ said Gina, apologetically. ‘There’s only me and Father Drummond rattling round in here now.’

‘Oh, it’s beautiful though,’ said Tina, taking in the oak panelling. ‘I mean it really is a majestic building.’

Father Drummond was waiting for them by the fireside. In spite of the warm May weather there was a roaring log fire in the grate and Father Drummond had a tartan rug wrapped around his legs.

William extended a hand. ‘I’m William Lane, Father Drummond. Thank you for agreeing to see us. This is my friend, Tina Craig.’

Tina held out her hand too, and Father Drummond clasped it briefly. ‘Excuse me if I don’t get up.’

‘Not at all,’ said William. ‘We’ll try not to keep you too long. I believe you may know the McBride family from around these parts.’

William explained about his journey so far. He told Father Drummond all about Billy’s letter and where Tina had found it. How she had vowed to deliver the letter to Chrissie and how they had come to meet each other in Manchester. Father Drummond cast his eyes downwards as William told him how unhelpful the nuns at the convent had been.

‘So you see, Father Drummond,’ he said, ‘you are really our last chance. I know it’s all a long time ago, but if you could think back thirty-odd years and tell us if you remember anything at all about a McBride family. If we could find the farm to which my mother was sent, there may be someone living there now who remembers what happened to her and where she went. Is there anything in my story that sounds familiar to you?’

Father Drummond stared pitifully at the boy. He sounded so desperate. He rubbed his temples and closed his eyes. It was so long before he spoke again that William actually thought he had fallen asleep. Finally he opened his eyes and looked directly at William. ‘I’m sorry, no. I don’t recall a McBride family fitting that description.’

William and Tina strolled along the lane towards the bus stop.

‘Well, that was a waste of time. What do we do now?’

Tina squeezed his arm. ‘Keep looking, that’s what. We’ll just have to broaden our search. We’ve still got those three pubs to check. We’re bound to get lucky sooner or later.’

William smiled at her optimism. ‘Thanks, Tina. You really know how to keep my spirits up.’

Father Drummond stayed in his seat by the fire for the next couple of hours. He went over things in his head several times and managed to convince himself he had done the right thing. He had made a promise to Kathleen McBride and had carried out her wishes to the letter. No sense in raking up the past now. She would not have wanted that. He nodded his head firmly. No, there was no doubt about it, he had done the right thing.

Gina popped her head round the door. ‘Are you ready for lunch, Father Drummond?’

‘Yes, Gina. I think I am.’

‘What a pity you couldn’t help that young couple. I told you your memory’s not what it used to be, but you wouldn’t have it.’

Father Drummond smiled to himself. ‘You were right, Gina. No memory at all.’

Chapter 36

By the end of May, William had reluctantly come to the conclusion that his search was over. Nobody in the vicinity could recollect the McBride family he was looking for, and he had exhausted all avenues. It was time to go home. They would leave first thing in the morning.

Tina was in her bedroom, carefully folding her clothes into her little suitcase when William knocked on the door. She smoothed down the shirt she was holding and laid it on the top. ‘Come in.’

William popped his head round the door. ‘Are you nearly finished?’

‘Yes, more or less, come in.’

William sidled into the room and slumped down on the bed.

‘Are you alright, William?’ She placed her hand on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze. He reached up and found her fingers, which he entwined with his own.

‘I can’t believe we didn’t find her. We came so close. To be this near and still not locate her is so frustrating.’

Tina sat down on the bed beside him and laid her head on his shoulder. ‘Don’t ever give up, William, you hear me?’

He patted her knee and pulled himself together. ‘I won’t. Now, come on, let’s enjoy our last evening together.’

‘I’m really going to miss this place,’ said William, as they strolled home a couple of hours later. ‘I mean, everything about Ireland is just so warm and inviting. And the food…aahh…’ He rubbed his stomach appreciatively. ‘If I stay here much longer I’ll be the size of a barn door.’

Tina laughed and slipped her arm in his. ‘I’ve loved every second of it, William. It was just the tonic I needed and I know we will always be friends.’ She stopped and looked up into his face. ‘We will stay in touch, won’t we? I mean I know we have an ocean between us, but we can write and maybe on the odd occasion we could speak on the telephone. I know it’s expensive but…’

William put his finger to her lips. ‘Let’s just enjoy tonight and not think about going home. Care for a little walk before we head back to Mrs Flanagan’s?’

An early summer shower had made the pavements glisten, but there was an almost tropical humidity to the evening. They walked through the park and sat down on a bench under a weeping willow, which had done a good job of keeping the bench relatively dry.

‘I can’t believe this time tomorrow I will be at home,’ said William.

‘You must be looking forward to seeing your parents again though, William.’

He pondered this for a second. ‘Of course, but I feel as though I’ve let them down.’

Tina frowned. ‘In what way?’

‘Well, they were so supportive to me in my quest to find my birth momma, but I know it caused them a lot of anguish, and now that has all been for nothing. I should have just left well alone.’

Tina paused for a second. ‘Then we would never have met.’

William considered this for a moment and then turned to her. ‘Meeting you has been the highlight of this trip. I can’t imagine how I would have felt if I had had to make this journey alone. The disappointment at not finding my mother would have been so much harder to bear without you by my side.’

She reached up and caressed his cheek tenderly.

‘Oh, William,’ she whispered. ‘We’ve only known each other a couple of weeks, but already I feel as though you are part of my life. After Rick, I thought I would never trust a man again.’ She turned away as she blushed slightly. ‘I know that sounds ridiculous and I’m sure once you’re back in America with your family you will forget all about me.’

William gave a short laugh. ‘You’re wrong, Tina. I’ll never forget about you. In any case, I’m not giving up the search for my mother just yet. I’m sure I’ll return to Ireland one day and, of course, I have my grandparents in Manchester.’

‘You think you’ll visit them?’ Tina asked hopefully.

‘One day.’

‘Then be sure to look me up.’ Tina nudged him playfully in the ribs.

He stood up and offered her his hand. ‘Come on, it’s getting late. We’d better get back to Mrs Flanagan’s.’

Tina took hold of his hand as she rose from the bench and as she straightened up she went to pull her hand away again, but William strengthened his grip and she saw no further need to resist.

It was almost dark as they turned into Mrs Flanagan’s street and they were both so absorbed in their own thoughts that it took them a while before they realised Mrs Flanagan was calling to them from her front door.

William, still gripping Tina’s hand, quickened his pace and hurried towards the old lady.

‘What is it, Mrs Flanagan?’ he asked breathlessly as he arrived by her side.

‘There you are,’ she cried. ‘I’ve been waiting up for you both.’

Even though she was a good foot shorter than William, she placed her hands on his shoulders and looked up into his eyes. ‘There is a gentleman in my front parlour. Now, I don’t want you to think I make a habit of letting strangers into my house at this hour, but for him I made an exception.’

William frowned. ‘Go on,’ he urged.

‘Well, for him I made exception because he wanted to wait for you. I told him you were leaving first thing in the morning, see.’ She paused, took a deep breath and then her face cracked into a broad smile. ‘William, the gentleman sitting in my front room says he knows your mother.’

PART THREE

Chapter 37

Briar Farm, Ireland, 1974

There was not a lot that had changed at Briar Farm in thirty-five years. After all, it was a simple existence and one that both inhabitants were accustomed to. Of course, farm hands had come and gone; animals too; but the essence of the farm was the same. It was back-breaking work for long hours with little reward. When Chrissie had first arrived here all those years ago she had viewed it as a temporary measure and if someone had told the young girl then that she would still be here thirty-five years later, she would have shrugged off this information as the ramblings of a mad man. While life had not been exactly kind to her, she had found some contentment in the familiarity of her surroundings and the kind-hearted man with whom she lived. Jackie Creevy had been her rock, unstinting in his loyalty and devotion to her and it was a constant source of sadness to Chrissie that she had never been able to give more of herself to him. Because of this, she had offered to leave many times over the years so that he might find a wife, have children and make Briar Farm his own family home, but he would never hear of it. It wasn’t that she didn’t care for him. On the contrary, he was the one person on whom she could depend. So many people had betrayed her in the past. Her father in sending her to Ireland in the first place, her mother for completely abandoning her in spite of her promises to keep in touch, and Aunt Kathleen for arranging to have her sent to the convent to endure three years of hell she would not have wished on her worst enemy.

Then of course there was Billy. Even after all this time she could not comprehend why he had so cruelly rejected her. She had been so completely in love with him and knew he felt the same, so why had the baby changed everything? The baby. There wasn’t a single day when Chrissie did not think about him. These days she tried to picture him as a grown man, perhaps with a family of his own, instead of the small, terrified child she remembered. The day he was taken away from her and driven to Shannon Airport to begin his life without her was the day Chrissie truly died inside. For three years she had nurtured him and then she had been forced to sign him over to a childless American couple. For three years she had had to endure the humiliation and degradation of the regime at the convent, but this was nothing compared to the desolate anguish she felt when her beloved little boy was taken from her. She fought like someone demented as she was made to say her last goodbye to him. She managed to compose herself long enough to give him one last cuddle before he was placed in the car. He reached his arms out to her through the open door.