Read Online Songs of Love and War by Santa Montefiore - Free Book Online

in the first place?’ he would maintain, banging his fist on the table, his long black hair falling
over his forehead. ‘They’ve stolen more than land. They’ve stolen our culture, our history, our language and our way of life.’ Bridie would hear their voices grow louder as
they each tried to persuade the other and she would feel anxious for Kitty and for their secret friendship, which she so treasured. She hoped that if ever there was trouble in Ballinakelly, the
Deverills would not suffer at the hands of the rebels on account of their well-known generosity and kindness towards the local people.
    Bridie was disappointed Kitty hadn’t come to see her today. Usually she’d find Kitty sitting on the wall surrounding the castle grounds and they’d run off together and play
pikki with the local children. Kitty called it hopscotch but she played it all the same. Kitty was like that; if it was fun she’d throw herself into the game with all her heart and not give a
thought to whether she should or should not mix with the Catholic children. She didn’t care either whether one of those children was an O’Leary.
    When Bridie thought of Jack O’Leary, with his idle gaze and his pet hawk on his arm, something tickled her belly, like the soft fluttering of butterfly wings. Jack was lofty and handsome
with thick brown hair and eyes as watery blue as an Irish sky in winter. An arrogant smirk played about his lips and there was always a mocking laughter in those wintry eyes as he watched the girls
at their childish play. But Jack had a sensitive side too. He loved all God’s creatures, from the secretive spider to the docile donkey, and spent most of his time among them. He’d lie
on his stomach in the early evening and wait for badgers, leave out food for stray dogs and birdwatch down on the beach in Smuggler’s Bay. He’d taken Kitty and Bridie along one
afternoon in January to watch a family of mice in the garden shed behind his house. They’d stayed for over an hour, as still as statues, as the mice had scampered about the wooden floor as if
on tiny wheels, eating the seed Jack had put out for them. That small episode had bonded them like plotters in a conspiracy, and from that moment on they had set out together for more adventures in
the wild. Kitty was bold and unafraid, curious about all the creatures Jack showed them, but Bridie was scared of creepy-crawlies and hairy mollies and sometimes needed coaxing. Jack would laugh at
her apprehension and say, ‘All animals are the goodies if you see life from their point of view, even the smelly rat. Indeed they all have a God-given right to be on this earth.’ And
Jack would tell them about life from the rat’s point of view and Bridie would try hard to be sympathetic.
    Today Jack hadn’t come out either. His father, Liam O’Leary the vet, had begun to take him along when he went to examine colicky horses, lame sheep, and dogs wounded in fights. There
was plenty of work for a vet in a place full of animals like Ballinakelly. So, Bridie had spent the day with the other children whom she didn’t like as much as Kitty nor admire as much as
Jack.
    Bridie loved Kitty like the sister she had never had, but she did wonder sometimes if the girl wasn’t a bit ‘quare’ with her talk of ghosts. Perhaps she was driven to
make-believe because she was so lonely hidden away in the nursery with only the grim Miss Grieve for company. Bridie shuddered to think that those ghosts might be real. ‘Don’t ye be
forgetting to stir, Bridie,’ said her mother sharply, looking up from her sewing. Bridie hadn’t noticed her hand had stopped and sat up with a jolt.
    ‘She’s away with the fairies,’ Old Mrs Nagle tutted, shaking her head. Bridie didn’t think her grandmother would say that about
her
if she knew some of the things
Kitty said.
    After tea Mrs Doyle announced it was time for prayer and Bridie knelt on the floor with her father and brothers, as she did