The Copper Beech by Maeve Binchy

been standing beside them looking on. It was as if she had come out of the shadows, she thought, and into the real world.
    She could barely wait to meet Brian. No day had ever seemed longer. Mrs Kelly had never been sharper or more inquisitive about everything Maddy was doing.
    Why was she putting greetings on the blackboard in different languages? Spanish. And French, no less. Wasn’t it enough for these boneheaded children to try and learn Irish and English like the Department laid down withoutfilling their heads with how to say good day and goodbye in tongues they’d never need to use?
    Maddy looked at her levelly. Normally, she would have seen Brian in her mind’s eye standing by the blackboard, congratulating her on her patience and forbearance, and then the two of them wandering together in Barna Woods crying ‘Buenos dias Vieja Piedra, we are coming to help you.’
    But today she saw no shadowy figure. She saw only the small quivering Mrs Kelly, who was wearing a brown and yellow striped dress and looked for all the world like a wasp.
    Maddy Ross was a different person today.
    ‘I’m putting some phrases in foreign languages on the blackboard, Mrs Kelly, because, despite what you and the Department of Education think, these children may well go to lands where they use them. And I shall put them on the blackboard every day until they feel a little bit of confidence about themselves instead of being humble and content to remain in Shancarrig pulling their caps and saying
good morning
in Irish and English until they are old men and women.’
    Mrs Kelly went red and white in rapid succession.
    ‘You’ll do nothing of the sort, Miss Ross. Not in the timetable that is laid down for you.’
    ‘I had no intention of doing it in school time, Mrs Kelly.’ Maddy smiled a falsely sweet smile. ‘I am in the fortunate position of being able to hold the children’s interest
outside
school hours as well as when the bell rings. They will learn it before or after school. That will be clearly understood.’
    She felt twenty feet tall. She felt as if she were elevated above the small stone schoolhouse and the town. She could hardly bear the slow noise of the clock ticking untilshe could go to Brian and tell him of her new courage, her hope and her belief that they had only one chance at life.
    She met him at rehearsal under the eyes of the nosey people in town.
    ‘How is your mother these days, Miss Ross?’ he asked. It was part of their code. They had never practised it; it just came naturally to them, as so much else would now.
    ‘She’s fine, Father, always asking for you, of course.’
    ‘I might drop in and see her later tonight, if you think she’d like that.’
    ‘She’d love it, Father. I’ll just let her know. I’m going out myself, but she’d be delighted to see you, like everyone.’
    Her eyes danced with mischief as she said the words. She thought she saw the hint of a frown on Brian Barry’s face, but it passed.
    Miss Ross left the rehearsal and she imagined people thinking that she was a dutiful daughter, and very good also to the priest, to go home and prepare a little tray for her mother to offer him. As Maddy walked home, her cheeks burning, she thought that she had been a bloody good daughter for all her life, nearly thirty years of life in this small place. And come to think of it she had been good to the priest too. Good for him and a good friend.
    Nobody could blame her for wanting her chance at life.
    She sat in the wood and waited on their log. He came gently through the leafy paths. His smile was tired. Something had crossed him during the day; she knew him so very well, every little change, every flicker in his face.
    ‘I’m late. I had to go into your mother’s,’ he said.
    ‘What on earth for? You know I didn’t mean …’
    ‘I know, but Father Gunn said to me, this very morning, that he thought I should see less of you.’
    ‘What!’
    Brian Barry was nervous and edgy. ‘Oh, he