afternoon encounter with Daniel finally threatened to engulf me. I would not be seeing Daniel ever again. I suppose until that moment I had hoped that the whole thing was a ghastly mistake. At the back of my mind was a fragile hope that I had somehow misunderstood, that Daniel would laugh and say, “What fiancee? I have no fiancee.” But he hadn't.
All I wanted to do now was to crawl into my bed, pull the covers over my head and escape into sleep. I opened the front door, tiptoed up the stairs without attracting the attention of Mrs. O'Hallaran and was about to open the door to my room when I froze on the landing. Someone was moving around inside my room.
I flung open the door. Two guilty faces looked up, holding my pillows with which they had obviously just been fighting.
“Seamus, Bridie, what is going on here?” I demanded. “What do you think you're doing in my room?”
“Auntie Nuala told us to come in here,” Bridie said in a small voice. “She said we had to stay with you cos Daddy can't take care of us.”
“What's wrong with your father?”
“He got buried,” young Seamus said matter-of-factly.
At that moment the door to the O'Connors' room opened and Nuala herself came out, putting her finger to her lips. “Not so much noise over here. Can't the poor man rest in peace?”
“Seamus is dead?” I gasped.
“Not yet, but he will be if he's not allowed his rest.” She stood there, meaty hands on her big hips. “Did the children not tell you then? The tunnel caved in and the poor man was buried alive. He was lucky—they saw his hand sticking out of the muck and they got to him in time. Any longer and it would have been too late. As it is the doctors don't know. He's got a nasty concussion and they say his lungs are full of dirt. If he doesn't get pneumonia it will be a miracle. He's in the hands of the Blessed Virgin now.”
“Oh, no. That's terrible. Why is he home here and not in the hospital?”
She was still looking at me with that offensive sneer. “Hospitals cost money, so unless you've got yourself a fancy man on the side and you're offering to pay, it's home here the poor man will be staying. The doctor says there's nothing they can do for him anyway. Either he gets better or he doesn't. But it's no concern of yours. He's our responsibility. That's why I've come over to look after him myself. I've left Finbar to take care of my boys and I'll stay here until poor Seamus is on the mend.”
“Oh, but you really don't have to,” I exclaimed, trying to disguise my look of horror. “I'm sure between myself and Mrs. O'Hallaran we can take care of him.”
“What else are families for?” she said. “We take care of our own.”
“But your boys will be needing you. And what about your job at the fish market?”
“Family troubles come first,” she said. “Always have. And it's slack season at the market. So I'll be moving in for a while, until the poor man recovers, God and all his saints willing.”
“It's very good of you,” I said with a sinking heart.
She gave me a condescending smile. “He'll be needing someone with experience to nurse him. But he must have absolute quiet, the doctor says, so the little ones will have to stay in there with you.”
“Yes, of course.” I could hardly say no without seeming completely hard-hearted.
“They'll be wanting their tea.” Nuala turned to go back into Seamus's room.
So it seemed I was to be mother to two small children again. Not that I objected. In fact, now I saw them as a blessing in disguise. I would be too busy to have time to sit around and mope. That night I made up beds for them on the floor in my room, but in the middle of the night Bridie crawled into bed beside me, just as she used to do on the ship. “I don't want my daddy to die,” she whispered.
“Of course he won't die, sweetheart,” I said, stroking back her soft hair. “He'll be as right as rain before you know it.”
“Aunt Nuala says he might
All I wanted to do now was to crawl into my bed, pull the covers over my head and escape into sleep. I opened the front door, tiptoed up the stairs without attracting the attention of Mrs. O'Hallaran and was about to open the door to my room when I froze on the landing. Someone was moving around inside my room.
I flung open the door. Two guilty faces looked up, holding my pillows with which they had obviously just been fighting.
“Seamus, Bridie, what is going on here?” I demanded. “What do you think you're doing in my room?”
“Auntie Nuala told us to come in here,” Bridie said in a small voice. “She said we had to stay with you cos Daddy can't take care of us.”
“What's wrong with your father?”
“He got buried,” young Seamus said matter-of-factly.
At that moment the door to the O'Connors' room opened and Nuala herself came out, putting her finger to her lips. “Not so much noise over here. Can't the poor man rest in peace?”
“Seamus is dead?” I gasped.
“Not yet, but he will be if he's not allowed his rest.” She stood there, meaty hands on her big hips. “Did the children not tell you then? The tunnel caved in and the poor man was buried alive. He was lucky—they saw his hand sticking out of the muck and they got to him in time. Any longer and it would have been too late. As it is the doctors don't know. He's got a nasty concussion and they say his lungs are full of dirt. If he doesn't get pneumonia it will be a miracle. He's in the hands of the Blessed Virgin now.”
“Oh, no. That's terrible. Why is he home here and not in the hospital?”
She was still looking at me with that offensive sneer. “Hospitals cost money, so unless you've got yourself a fancy man on the side and you're offering to pay, it's home here the poor man will be staying. The doctor says there's nothing they can do for him anyway. Either he gets better or he doesn't. But it's no concern of yours. He's our responsibility. That's why I've come over to look after him myself. I've left Finbar to take care of my boys and I'll stay here until poor Seamus is on the mend.”
“Oh, but you really don't have to,” I exclaimed, trying to disguise my look of horror. “I'm sure between myself and Mrs. O'Hallaran we can take care of him.”
“What else are families for?” she said. “We take care of our own.”
“But your boys will be needing you. And what about your job at the fish market?”
“Family troubles come first,” she said. “Always have. And it's slack season at the market. So I'll be moving in for a while, until the poor man recovers, God and all his saints willing.”
“It's very good of you,” I said with a sinking heart.
She gave me a condescending smile. “He'll be needing someone with experience to nurse him. But he must have absolute quiet, the doctor says, so the little ones will have to stay in there with you.”
“Yes, of course.” I could hardly say no without seeming completely hard-hearted.
“They'll be wanting their tea.” Nuala turned to go back into Seamus's room.
So it seemed I was to be mother to two small children again. Not that I objected. In fact, now I saw them as a blessing in disguise. I would be too busy to have time to sit around and mope. That night I made up beds for them on the floor in my room, but in the middle of the night Bridie crawled into bed beside me, just as she used to do on the ship. “I don't want my daddy to die,” she whispered.
“Of course he won't die, sweetheart,” I said, stroking back her soft hair. “He'll be as right as rain before you know it.”
“Aunt Nuala says he might
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