you?’
‘I will send you details once I have sorted myself out. It seems that I will require Beaumont Williams’ assistance after all,’ she said, referring to her attorney.
‘Are you sure you want to go back to New York?’ Rosetta asked.
‘Yes, I’ll go back and give all those society women something to bitch about! I can count on Mr Williams to help me. He and his wife Elaine were good to me when Mrs Grimsby died
leaving me a fortune. When I knew no one in New York. I know I can rely on them now.’ She smiled wryly. ‘Money has a funny way of inspiring loyalty.’
‘Look after yourself, Bridget.’
Bridie gazed at her sadly. ‘And you look after Sean. He’s a good man.’ She didn’t dare mention her other brother Michael. Rosetta would discover soon enough how very
different two brothers could be. It was only a matter of time before Father Quinn released Michael from Mount Melleray.
‘Good luck, Bridget. I will pray for you.’
‘And
I
for
you
. My family will be lucky to have you. They could do with some good Italian cooking.’ Bridie fought back tears.
‘I hope our paths cross again one day.’
‘So do I, Rosetta. But I don’t think they ever will.’
A little later Bridie sat in the hackney cab that was to take her to the station in Cork. She knew it would be too dangerous to be seen on the platform in Ballinakelly. She
held in her hands the toy bear that she had bought in town and hoped that the boy would like it. She hoped too that once they settled in America he would forget about Ireland and everything he had
known here. She looked forward to celebrating his fourth birthday in January and rejoicing in the beginning of a new life together. She’d buy him more presents than he’d ever had. In
fact, she’d buy him anything he wanted. Anything to make up for the years they had been apart. Her heart gave a flutter of excitement. If there niggled a shadow of doubt in the bottom of her
conscience, she reminded herself that God had thrown light onto the darkness of her despair and inspired her to right this wrong. Little Jack
belonged
to her. As a mother, the Virgin Mary
would surely be the first to understand.
Bridie asked the driver to wait in the road a short distance from the entrance to the White House, for she would bring the child through the coppice of trees and not down the main drive for fear
of being discovered. She didn’t anticipate any obstacles to her plan, so great was her desire that it blinded her to the reality of what she was about to do. All she saw was her son’s
small hand in hers and the happy ever after sunset into which they would surely walk, united and at peace.
It was early afternoon, but the sky was darkened by thick folds of grey cloud so that it seemed much later. The sea was the colour of slate, the little boats sailing upon it drab and joyless in
the waning light. Even the orange and yellow leaves looked dull in the damp wind that sent them spinning to the earth to collect in piles along the stone wall that encircled the Deverill estate.
Bridie hurried down the road, searching for a place in the wall which was low enough to scale. She remembered the times she, Celia and Kitty had met at the wall near the castle to run off and play
down by the river with Jack O’Leary, handsome in his jacket and cap, and she had to fight hard to suppress the wistfulness that washed over her in a great wave of regret. The sooner she left
Ballinakelly the better, she thought resolutely, for memories were beginning to grow through her carefully constructed defences like weeds through a crumbling old wall. At last she found a place
where the stones had fallen into the decaying bracken behind and she lifted her skirt and nimbly climbed over, taking care not to get the bear wet.
She picked her way through the copse. Her heart was beginning to race and sweat collected on her brow in spite of the cold that was rolling in off the water. She could see the house
‘I will send you details once I have sorted myself out. It seems that I will require Beaumont Williams’ assistance after all,’ she said, referring to her attorney.
‘Are you sure you want to go back to New York?’ Rosetta asked.
‘Yes, I’ll go back and give all those society women something to bitch about! I can count on Mr Williams to help me. He and his wife Elaine were good to me when Mrs Grimsby died
leaving me a fortune. When I knew no one in New York. I know I can rely on them now.’ She smiled wryly. ‘Money has a funny way of inspiring loyalty.’
‘Look after yourself, Bridget.’
Bridie gazed at her sadly. ‘And you look after Sean. He’s a good man.’ She didn’t dare mention her other brother Michael. Rosetta would discover soon enough how very
different two brothers could be. It was only a matter of time before Father Quinn released Michael from Mount Melleray.
‘Good luck, Bridget. I will pray for you.’
‘And
I
for
you
. My family will be lucky to have you. They could do with some good Italian cooking.’ Bridie fought back tears.
‘I hope our paths cross again one day.’
‘So do I, Rosetta. But I don’t think they ever will.’
A little later Bridie sat in the hackney cab that was to take her to the station in Cork. She knew it would be too dangerous to be seen on the platform in Ballinakelly. She
held in her hands the toy bear that she had bought in town and hoped that the boy would like it. She hoped too that once they settled in America he would forget about Ireland and everything he had
known here. She looked forward to celebrating his fourth birthday in January and rejoicing in the beginning of a new life together. She’d buy him more presents than he’d ever had. In
fact, she’d buy him anything he wanted. Anything to make up for the years they had been apart. Her heart gave a flutter of excitement. If there niggled a shadow of doubt in the bottom of her
conscience, she reminded herself that God had thrown light onto the darkness of her despair and inspired her to right this wrong. Little Jack
belonged
to her. As a mother, the Virgin Mary
would surely be the first to understand.
Bridie asked the driver to wait in the road a short distance from the entrance to the White House, for she would bring the child through the coppice of trees and not down the main drive for fear
of being discovered. She didn’t anticipate any obstacles to her plan, so great was her desire that it blinded her to the reality of what she was about to do. All she saw was her son’s
small hand in hers and the happy ever after sunset into which they would surely walk, united and at peace.
It was early afternoon, but the sky was darkened by thick folds of grey cloud so that it seemed much later. The sea was the colour of slate, the little boats sailing upon it drab and joyless in
the waning light. Even the orange and yellow leaves looked dull in the damp wind that sent them spinning to the earth to collect in piles along the stone wall that encircled the Deverill estate.
Bridie hurried down the road, searching for a place in the wall which was low enough to scale. She remembered the times she, Celia and Kitty had met at the wall near the castle to run off and play
down by the river with Jack O’Leary, handsome in his jacket and cap, and she had to fight hard to suppress the wistfulness that washed over her in a great wave of regret. The sooner she left
Ballinakelly the better, she thought resolutely, for memories were beginning to grow through her carefully constructed defences like weeds through a crumbling old wall. At last she found a place
where the stones had fallen into the decaying bracken behind and she lifted her skirt and nimbly climbed over, taking care not to get the bear wet.
She picked her way through the copse. Her heart was beginning to race and sweat collected on her brow in spite of the cold that was rolling in off the water. She could see the house
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