Till the Sun Shines Through by Anne Bennett

altogether. And she didn’t want to be the one that would separate one brother from the other either as her revelations certainly would. She realised in that moment that she was on her own and not even Mary’s promised visit in August of that year could lift her spirits.
    However, Mary believed every word her anguished sister had written to her, and with reason, and was furiously angry on her behalf. She intended to seek her uncle Francis out at the first opportunity and put the fear of God into him.
    But when Mary eventually arrived back home she was the feted daughter, welcomed home with Aunt Ellen, now semi-recovered from her rheumatics, and wee Jamie, an enchanting toddler turned two years old, who enthralled Jimmy and Sarah and even Bridie.
    It was almost a week before Mary got her chance to see her uncle Francis without anyone else in earshot. She’d said nothing to Bridie of her intention and now she faced her uncle across the field of ripening hay he was surveying.
    Her stomach churned as she looked at him. He seemed so harmless. But she hardened her heart against him for Bridie’s sake. ‘I believe you’ve been giving our Bridie a hard time recently?’
    â€˜Not at all. What’s she been saying?’
    â€˜Never mind. She’s said enough,’ Mary snapped. ‘We won’t go into it now – you’d just deny everything, I imagine, and then I’d get angry, because I’d stake my life on Bridie telling the truth. All the years of her growing up, I’ve never known her lie.’
    â€˜I demand to know what she’s complained of,’ Francis said. ‘How else can I protest against it?’
    â€˜Don’t even think you can,’ Mary answered scathingly. ‘If you examine your conscience, you’ll know what Bridie has complained of. And I’m telling you it has to stop, here and now. You think if she complains she won’t be believed, she’s even told me that. Well, let me tell you, if this doesn’t stop, the letters she’s sent to me, telling me what you try to do and what you say, will be given to prominent people in your life. Aunt Delia, for example, or Father O’Dwyer. Believe me, if you do not leave my sister alone she will not be the one painted black in this instance because I’ll tell my tale too. Some people might then begin to wonder about Sally McCormack so think on, Uncle Francis.’
    Francis began to bluster. ‘Mary, for God’s sake. You know there was no proof that I’d ever touched that gypsy brat. As for your sister … Well, let’s just say she has a vivid imagination.’
    â€˜And me? Have I a vivid imagination too?’
    â€˜You misunderstood me.’
    â€˜Like Hell I did,’ Mary spat out.
    â€˜Look, Mary, Bridie has got the whole thing wrong, out of proportion. That’s all it was and that’s all I’m prepared to say on the subject.’
    â€˜Well, it isn’t all I’m prepared to say,’ Mary barked out angrily. ‘I don’t care what label you put it under, or how you try to justify it, if she writes to me in the same vein again, you will have cooked your goose as far as your family, your wife and your standing in the community are concerned. I hope you understand that.’
    Francis understood all right. He stood at the crossroads of his life and he knew if he was to go forward, Mary would ruin him. Somehow, he had to control the fascination Bridie held for him in order to keep the life he had and, though he made no reply, Mary knew she’d frightened him and dearly hoped it was enough to help her sister.

CHAPTER THREE
    Mary never told Bridie of the conversation she had with their uncle Francis and the threat she’d issued, so Bridie didn’t look for any significant change in his behaviour once Mary left for home.
    But at the harvest, which the two families had always worked together, Uncle Francis was quite curt