Under the July Sun (40 page)

Cat saw the telegram boy pedalling toward her as she left for work; her mouth dried as she felt instinctively it was for her, and knew it would be bad news. The only telegrams she ever received brought bad news. Sure enough, as she approached he stopped his bicycle and handed her the telegram.

‘Thank ye,' she said stuffing it into her pocket. She couldn't open it in the road and would be too late for work if she returned to the house to read it, so decided to open it later when she was more composed.

As she plodded along the road towards the High Street, she conjured up every imaginable disaster that the telegram would bring her. It was, she feared about her father. It had to be. Peggy had written telling her several times he wasn't looking so good and had lost a lot of weight. She would prepare herself for the shock and would be surrounded by the nuns who would support her when she found out the nature of her bad news.

Wiping away tears that kept misting her eyes, Cat made her way to Eltham High Street and entered the school through the back door. She hung up her coat, took the telegram from her pocket and laid it on the table in the kitchen.

After fishing her apron out of her bag she tied it around her waist and sat down to open the telegram. But she couldn't do it. She just could not bring herself to open the envelope, dreading what she would read. Glancing up at the clock, Cat speculated that Mother Superior would be available if she hurried along to her office, so she snatched up the envelope and made her way there.

‘Come in,' Cat heard Mother Superior call. Cat opened the door and slid inside.

‘Good morning, Cat,' the kindly old nun smiled at her, ‘what can I do for you?'

‘Mother, I've received a telegram and I'm that terrified to open it, for I'm sure 'twill be bad news.' She held the envelope out to the nun. ‘Would ye open it for me please, and break it to me gently. I think 'twill be about me father.'

‘Of course, Cat. Here, take a seat and we'll do this together. First let us say a Hail Mary for strength to help us out. She bowed her head. ‘Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death. Amen.'

‘Amen,' Cat echoed.

Mother Superior opened her eyes a fraction of a second before Cat, and looking at her bowed head, noticed for the first time that her hair was turning grey at the crown. Poor Cat, she thought, what has this woman ever done to attract such misery? The Lord must have a plan though she thought, so we must just accept whatever is sent to try us. She looked at Cat who nodded for her to begin opening the envelope.

Agonising about the contents Cat twisted the material of her apron round and round, anxiously awaiting the terrible news.

Mother Superior looked puzzled as she read, then folded the telegram and put it back in the envelope. She looked at Cat's white and anxious face and rose from her chair and went to a heavily carved oak cupboard in the corner of the room. She opened the cupboard door and took out a bottle of brandy and a glass, then returned to her desk where she poured out a large measure and handed it to Cat.

‘What is it, Mother? 'Tis me father isn't it?'

‘Drink this, Cat, it will help.'

‘Oh Lord, I
knew
it. I
knew
it!'

She took the glass which shook in her hand, then drank a little of the brandy before she realised that Mother Superior had not said a word.

Cat looked at Mother Superior. 'Tis me father, isn't it, Mother?'

‘No, my dear it is not your father.' Mother Superior moved around the desk and pulled a chair up to sit beside Cat. ‘Brace yourself my dear; it was not about your father. It is about your daughter.'

‘My daughter? Which daughter? Anna? No, not Anna! Eileen? Elizabeth?' Cat gasped for breath.

‘I'm sorry my dear, but it's about Marie.'

‘Marie! What about Marie?'

‘The telegram says, “Marie died yesterday with a burst appendix. Please come. Peggy.”'

Cat couldn't speak. She couldn't cry. All she was aware of was the sound of her heart pounding in her ears.

Tom was waiting at the station when Cat's train arrived. He dreaded meeting her, what could he possibly say? It was bad enough when their mother had died, but to lose a child! It was not in the natural order of things for a child to go before the parents. He wondered what on earth he would do if it was any of his children he was coming home to bury.

The train drew to a halt and he moved along the platform searching for his sister's face, but when he spotted Cat he hardly recognised her.

The person who waved wanly from the carriage window bore the face of an old woman. The young, raven-haired capricious Cat had been replaced by a sad looking, shrunken, middle-aged woman. A sob rose in his throat, but he steeled himself not to weaken as she would need him to be strong.

But the truth was, Tom had never felt he was as strong as Cat. He regretted any feelings he had in the past of envy over her relationship with their father; he could see clearly why her spirit was nearer to him than his was. She should have been born a boy he thought.

Oh Hell, his mind was whirling off in all sorts of stupid directions, like an escape route, away from facing the inevitable.

She stepped down from the train and her face crumpled as their eyes met. Then his arms were around her tiny frame as she wept uncontrollably.

‘C'mon now. There, there,' Tom soothed. ‘I'm here for ye, mo chuisle. Let's get ye outta here and home to Monroe.'

With one arm around Cat he lifted up her bag and ushered her out of the station to the waiting donkey cart. He helped her up and they began heading towards Monroe.

***

It was a grey, drizzling, miserable morning as Marie's coffin was lowered into the family grave at The Abbey graveyard in Fethard. The whole town had come to pay their respects and each person crossed themselves as the cortège passed by before they followed behind the family.

Cat was supported by Tom, and his wife Norah held onto to Ned, who was shaking uncontrollably, tears raining down his craggy features.

As the last link with her daughter was broken Cat cried silently, thinking to herself that she had let this child down. She had left her in a land backward in medicine, whereas if she had lived with them in England she would have been in a hospital and mended in no time. She would never forgive herself. They would have survived the financial hardship of another mouth to feed all those years ago. After all, hadn't they gone on to have two more children anyway? Her guilt lay on her like a black stain and she imagined everyone in Fethard was thinking what a bad mother she was.

The wake in O'Connell's Hotel was a very quiet affair. Normally, when burials were over, folk gathered together and celebrated the person's life. Musical instruments would appear and drink flow as everyone remembered the person and would find something to rejoice and laugh about.

But for Marie there was no such celebration. She had not dipped her toe into the waters of life, let alone gone for a swim.

Nellie and Mick provided food and people sat around the tables murmuring and drinking quietly, taking the odd bite to eat. Not one person raised their voice or their glasses for a toast. All were subdued by Marie's death. Nobody suggested clearing the tables and chairs to one side so they could dance, and eventually the mourners drifted away with nothing more to say to Cat than that they were sorry for her troubles. When they had all gone the hub of the family was left alone; sorrowful and silent.

Daniel finished his drink and stood up saying he must go, but before he left he turned to Cat.

‘Will ye come to the house later? I know ye've to get back to England tomorrow, but I want to talk to ye before ye go.'

Peggy and Breda glanced at each other, but this went unseen by Cat as she looked at Daniel with her earnest expression; dry-eyed for the first time since she had arrived.

‘Sure I will.'

She expected he wanted to console her and it would be nice to speak to him alone again after all the years since Mary's death.

They had not shared a moment together since that terrible night when they entered her sister's bedroom and witnessed her death, and that stupid old doctor slapping her hands, trying to revive her.

Later that day Cat rang Daniel's doorbell and he opened it within a second.

He must have been looking out for me
,
she thought, as she entered the hallway.

‘C'mon in, Cat. Ye're most welcome.'

‘Thanks, Daniel,' Cat murmured taking her hat off, ‘ye know 'tis the first time I've been here since poor Mary went, God rest her soul,' she said crossing herself.

Daniel bit his lip and guided her into the lounge where he asked her to sit while he made them a pot of tea.

‘I'll be back with ye in a trice,' he said, ‘make yerself comfortable and get warm by the fire.'

Cat sat rubbing her palms together trying to get some life back into her numbed fingers.
Jesus it was a cold day
, she thought. Her eyes scanned the room and settled upon the place where her sister Mary had rested the day she died. That was the last day she had seen her and Mary had given them rosaries as a wedding anniversary present.

In her mind she counted her losses. There had been Mary and her baby; Louis; Mummy; Ellie's daughter Catherine, and now Marie. Six deaths she thought, as she sat gazing at the fire which roared up the chimney, yet gave her no warmth.

Daniel returned shortly with a tray of tea, poured them both a cup and sat in a chair opposite Cat. H e shifted about restlessly.

Cat could tell he felt uneasy. Maybe 'tis because he doesn't entertain many people these days he feels shy, she thought. Then he put his cup and saucer down and cleared his throat.

‘Cat, I asked ye to come here for a specific purpose.'

‘Oh?'

‘There's somethin' ye should know. Somethin' that's not easy to tell ye, but neither Peggy nor Breda could bring themselves to discuss with ye.'

She put her cup and saucer down on a small table and looked him straight in the eye.

‘What is it, Daniel?'

‘Before I tell ye, I want ye to promise ye'll hear me out and not go rushin' off before I finish.' His voice was tight in his throat. He leaned forward, hands joined together across his knees.

‘G'w'on, I'm listenin'.'

‘Marie did not die from a burst appendix, 'twas a little more complicated than that.'

‘How d'ya mean? Wasn't it peritonitis?'

‘No, Cat. 'Twas nothin' to do with her appendix at all. But if I tell ye, and I mean to, I must have yer promise ye'll not breathe a word of this to anyone. Do I have that promise?'

Mystified, she nodded, unsure what it was she was agreeing to. ‘Well if 'twas not her appendix, then what was it that took her?'

‘Yer sisters believed Marie had eaten a load of figs prior to her fallin' ill. They were tendin' to her, but she seemed to be gettin' worse so Breda, in the dead of night, got onto a bicycle and rode here to ask me to go to her.'

‘Right, I'm with ye so far,' Cat nodded.

‘When we got to the shop, Peggy was waitin' and I went upstairs to see to Marie. Neither Breda nor Peggy knows the next bit because I did not tell them. So painful though it is, Cat, I feel morally bound to explain. But I have to tell ye that my destiny is in yer hands. If ye ever let out as much as a hint about it, I'll be struck off the medical register.'

Cat's eyes widened and her heart began to thump in her chest, but she could not stop him now, she had to know what it was about her daughter that only he knew.

‘I'm listenin'.'

‘I have to trust ye, Cat. So can I have yer assurance that ye'll not report me over tryin' to help yer daughter?'

‘Daniel, I've known ye a long time and ye've known me too, long enough to realise I am able to keep me mouth shut. Tight! So long as 'tis for a good reason.'

‘Right then.' He ran his fingers through his hair. ‘When I got into the room Marie was in a lot of pain.'

‘Lord save us,' Cat whispered, her eyes filling with tears.

‘I soon saw the cause of the pain, Cat.'

‘Yes,' she nodded wiping her eyes, ‘g'w'on, Daniel,'

‘Well, she was in the late stages of labour, the baby's head was crowned, but she could not push him out.'

‘What in the world are ye sayin'?' Cat gasped.

‘I had to act quickly. Marie was slippin' away. She had bound herself up tightly to conceal her pregnancy. Which as I've told ye, yer sisters knew nothin' about and she began to haemorrhage.'

‘Dear, God. I can't believe what I'm hearin'.'

‘I had to perform a procedure to release the baby, but he was stillborn. I was too late for either Marie, or her son. Cat, I'm very sorry.'

Cat sat very still and neither of them spoke for a while. Daniel saw the colour had drained from her face leaving a ghostlike image behind, but it was Cat who broke the silence.

‘So which part of this is it ye would get struck off for? I don't understand.'

Daniel drew in his breath and began to explain.

‘Well, not for performin' the procedure to release the child, but for the disposal of the child's body.'

‘Oh, don't, Daniel! Don't say ye did anythin' horrible.
Please
, I couldn't take it.'

‘No, Cat. I did what I could to preserve his soul, but as ye know, any talk of a baby out of wedlock in a place like Fethard would mean yer family would be shunned and the little fella was already dead.'

‘So what about Marie? What happened to her then?' Cat sobbed.

‘She just slipped away, Cat. I could not stop the bleeding. I tried. I tried so hard, but she had lost too much blood.'