2004 - Dandelion Soup (26 page)

He didn’t sound too convinced to Siobhan.

“Where do we go now?”

“Inside that cupboard over there. According to what Padraig said we crawl along a bit and there’s a big hole at the back we can squeeze through to get into the cupboards inside Sister Veronica’s study.”

“Are you sure, Donny?”

“I’m positive. Remember, Padraig told me he used to get out through the study window in the middle of the night.”

“Come on then, Donny, before I change my mind. It’s now or never, I’m shaking that much.”

“You are scared then?”

“No, I’m feckin’ terrified!”

Donny put his finger to his lips.

“I can hear someone. Quick.”

The blood drained from Siobhan’s cheeks until she was the colour of chalk. Donny took hold of her hand and pulled her into the cupboard just as the laundry door opened.

They peeped through the crack in the door. Sister Agatha had come into the room and was looking round suspiciously, sniffing as though there was cat shite about.

Donny held his breath, squeezing Siobhan’s hand tightly. They watched as the nun turned to go, turned back and sniffed the air again. Then with relief they watched the door close with a soft click.

“God!” said Siobhan. “She looked a right old bag. Like old Nick himself dressed up in a nun’s habit.”

Donahue was talking to Michael Leary when Dr Hanlon stepped inside the bar.

“Dr Hanlon,” said Donahue with surprise.

“Hello, Marty. A Guinness please, one for yourself and whatever Michael’s having.”

“Thanks, Doctor, a Guinness if I may.”

“And yourself, Marty?”

“No, thanks all the same.”

Dr Hanlon raised his eyebrows.

“On the wagon,” Michael Leary said. “Dear God, that’s a miracle in itself.”

“It’s not like you to be drinking in the day, Doctor.”

“Needs must when the devil drives…”

“Michael was just showing me a postcard he had from Spain,” said Donahue. “Have a look at this.”

Dear Mr Leary, having the time of my life. Stayed in some funny places. No sign of the Irish virgin but still looking. Miss Carmichael has learned to smile and Father D. drinks wine like it’s going out of fashion. Taken loads of photos, bought a sketchpad. Off to the monastery today. Best wishes, Padraig O. Give my love to Sister Immaculata and Donny. Say hello to Siobhan but no kisses!

“God, he doesn’t know about the nun’s death yet. They were close those two by all accounts. Still, at least it sounds like he’s enjoying it out there; let’s hope he makes the most of it, if 11 be the last holiday he’ll have in a long time,” said Donahue.

“Poor little bugger.”

“What’s up with you, Leary? Look like you’ve swallowed a bloody wasp,” Dr Hanlon said.

“Bit of bad news, that’s all, on the female front, nothing I want to talk about. I was just thinking about Padraig. He’s been offered a free place at the Abbey, you know, and that old bitch up at St Joseph’s won’t let him go. Willy Flanagan just rang me to tell me.”

“You’re not surprised, though, are you? She’d never let him go there. Michael, that’s not the Willy Flanagan who does all those mucky paintings?”

“One and the same, Donahue, but they are not mucky paintings. The human body is not a mucky thing.”

“Ah, well, a grown man drawing pictures of people’s mickeys and women’s thingummyjigs is not quite right in the head in my book.”

“Dear God, Donahue, your book would make a fascinating read!”

“Well I’ve heard that that Flanagan is one of them momosapiens.”

Dr Hanlon and Michael Leary spluttered into their Guinness.

“Donahue, you are bloody priceless.”

Donahue scratched his head and muttered, “Well, it’s not natural in my book…”

“Well, I pray to God you write this book one day, Donahue, ifll be a bestseller!”

“Ah, bollocks to the pair of you!” said Donahue. “Anyhow, what will you do now the school is to close? Have you applied for another job yet, Michael?”

“I’ve applied for a couple of jobs, but I don’t really fancy them myself. I don’t know, something’ll turn up I dare say.”

“It’s going to be a dead place round here when St Joseph’s closes,” Donahue said.

“Sure ifll be full of old codgers waiting to pop their clogs.”

“It won’t be the same as having kids about the place.”

“Siobhanll be lost in the holidays.”

“When does she go away to school?”

“The day after tomorrow.”

“You’ll miss her.”

“I will that.”

“Can’t she just go to school in Cork and come home weekends?”

“She could but her mother has other ideas. Hetty was at this posh school in London and says she met all sorts. The higher echelons of society, would you believe? Hetty also went off to a finishing school in Paris. That’s where she got all her fancy ideas from and it’s what she has in mind for Siobhan.”

“No offence but I can’t imagine Siobhan in a finishing school,” Donahue said with a grin.

“She’d finish the buggers off all right, single-handedly,” replied Dr Hanlon smiling.

“She’s bright that daughter of yours, she needs to be challenged.”

“I know that Michael. But you can’t argue with Hetty. She says she’ll meet a grand set of girls from good families at the convent in London. When Hetty was there she was hobnobbing with all sorts. Spanish nobility, Italian princesses…One of the Spanish girls used to have all her clothes sent over from Paris.”

“They must have been millionaires.”

“Hetty and the Spanish girl were good friends, but when they were in the finishing school in Paris she had a fling with an unsuitable chap and the mother whisked her away. Hetty wrote to her loads of times but never got an answer.”

“Probably married with a castle full of kids by now,” Donahue said.

“I dare say. Anyway, Siobhan is in the shite at the moment.”

“How’s that?”

“I’m afraid somehow she found out about the kid up at Solly Benjamin’s house.”

“A kid?” said Donahue. “I thought he had a bit of stuff up there.”

“No, that was all just gossip.”

Leary and Donahue listened mesmerized as Dr Hanlon told them the little he knew about the child.

“So where does Siobhan come into all this?”

“You know what she’s like, she’s a nosy little sod putting her beak into other people’s business. She saw the child, and apparently Padraig had seen her too in the Dark Wood. Anyhow, she told Sinead about her and blabber-mouth told her mammy and now they’re off up to St Joseph’s to see Sister Veronica.”

“Why, what can Sister Veronica do?” Leary asked suddenly.

“Anything she likes. Shell get the kid taken off him without a doubt.”

“Perhaps that’s for the best.”

“No. She’s transformed him, that child, I’ve never seen the fellow looking so happy. It must have been a lonely old life living there all by himself. Ah, well, there’ll be all hell up now.”

Suddenly the door opened and the three men turned to look at the newcomer. A small swarthy man, no bigger than a jockey, stood framed in the doorway.

“Come in,” said Donahue. “We don’t bite until the moon is full.”

The man grinned and walked jauntily across to the bar.

“Would you be wanting a drink?”

“I could murder a Guinness.”

A stranger in Ballygurry was an interesting occasion.

“Have you come on the train?” Dr Hanlon asked, knowing full well there was no train on this particular day.

“No. I came off the boat yesterday and hitched a couple of lifts, one from a halfwit of a farmer and then a couple of flatulent nuns.”

“I’ve never heard of the Flatulent order, are they French?”

Leary snorted into his beer.

The newcomer looked at Donahue as if he had a screw missing.

“Will you be staying long?”

“Until I finish me pint.”

Donahue giggled.

“Would that be an English accent?” he asked.

“London, mate, north of the river.”

“Have you friends here in Ballygurry?”

“Nope. I’m not staying. I’ve come to pick up a kid.”

The three men stared at him in amazement.

“What sort of a kid?”

“The usual type.”

“With horns?” asked Donahue.

The man looked askance at Donahue.

“A kid. My kid,” he spluttered into his pint, “not a bleeding goat.”

He downed the rest of his pint swiftly.

“Cheers,” he said, “I needed that.”

The bell jingled above the door as the man left.

“Ah well, he seemed a nice enough chap for an Englishman. Lefs hope he gets to the kid before Sister Veronica and her band of washerwomen.”

“Will we go up and have a look?” said Donahue.

“Can’t. I’ve a surgery to start,” said Dr Hanlon. “And if Miss Drew comes in one more time to show me her bruises I may be tempted to end it all myself.”

Sister Agatha showed an excited Miss Drew and a flustered Mrs Cullinane into Sister Veronica’s study. Miss Drew looked with interest at Sister Veronica. The nun was usually so composed in a chilly kind of way but now she looked positively rattled. Her hands were shaking and there were two spots of high colour on her cheeks.

Mrs Cullinane, hiding behind Miss Drew, was wishing fervently that she hadn’t come at all and began to bob up and down on the spot anxiously.

Miss Drew was the first to speak.

“Sister Veronica, I know how very busy you must be and I’m sorry to bother you but with Father Daley being away we didn’t quite know where to turn.”

“Spit it out, Miss Drew, I haven’t all day.”

Miss Drew flinched and continued.

“The first thing is that while I was away I learned something. Such a shock to me it was, but I feel I have to tell someone. Mrs Cullinane here agrees with me.”

Mrs Cullinane nodded her head anxiously and blushed.

“What is it, Miss Drew?”

“It’s to do with Miss Nancy Carmichael. The thing is, Sister, by pure chance I came across a letter belonging to her by accident while we were away. Shocking, it was, quite shocking…”

“Get on with it, Miss Drew.”

“Well,” said Miss Drew with barely concealed glee, “have you ever heard of a place called Kilgerry up Ross-macconnarty way?”

Sister Veronica stared unblinkingly at Miss Drew.

Miss Drew noticed that the pulse in Sister Veronica’s neck raced feverishly.

“No, I’m afraid I have not.”

“Well, Miss Carmichael’s mother used to work there as the nanny to the posh family.”

Sister Veronica swallowed hard.

“What has that to do with anything?” she asked impatiently.

“Well, you’d hardly believe it but Nancy Carmichael is illegitimate and you’ll never guess who her father was…”

Miss Drew tailed off.

“Oh, I think I can,” said Sister Veronica quietly. She leaned heavily on the table, breathing hard. Her face was puce and beads of sweat bubbled on her top lip.

Miss Drew was delighted with the nun’s reaction. Sister Veronica was absolutely livid, with a face on her like she’d explode. Serve Nancy Carmichael right for letting her come all the way home on her own.

Sister Veronica’s head was in a spin. God Almighty! What else was she going to hear today? She’d had just about as much as she could stand.

To Miss Drew’s dismay, she said no more but eventually straightened up and looked across at her. Sister Veronica steeled herself, drew herself up to her full height. She’d had quite enough shocks for one day. She could barely think straight.

“There was something else I believe that you wanted to tell me, Miss Drew?” she said distractedly.

It was dusty inside the cupboard where Donny and Siobhan were huddled together in fright. It was dark and smelled of mice and mildew.

Donny whispered to Siobhan, “Siobhan, what’s illegitimate mean?”

“Sure I don’t know. It’s some sort of incurable disease I expect.”

“Mrs Cullinane has heard some very shocking news, very shocking indeed,” said Miss Drew in a breathy croak. “She wanted, well, we thought, that you should be the first to hear all about it.”

“What is it, Miss Drew?” Sister Veronica said, giving her a withering glance.

“It seems Siobhan Hanlon, who as you know is a meddlesome little devil, has told Mrs Cullinane’s Sinead a secret that she made her promise not to tell on pain of having her teeth pulled out with pliers.”

In the cupboard Siobhan grabbed Denny’s arm. “Bloody cheek! When I get out of here I’ll piss in her bran tub! And I’ll kill Sinead,” she said through clenched teeth.

“Siobhan Hanlon is a proverbial pain in the neck. I fervently hope that the nuns in London will instil some discipline into the child. I think Dr Hanlon spoils her, myself.”

Siobhan nudged Donny in the ribs. “Cheeky old bitch,” she hissed.

“Well, the thing is, Sinead, being a sensible girl, has told her mother the secret.”

“Sensible!” sniffed Siobhan. “She’s as thick as a donkey’s dick.”

“And pray what is this enormous secret?”

“The Black Jew has a young girl locked up in his house against her will.”

“Ifs hardly news, Miss Drew.”

Miss Drew blushed.

“Ah, well, the thing is we all thought it was a young woman but according to Siobhan ifs not at all, ifs a little girl that he has trapped in there.”

“And how does Siobhan know all this?”

“Well, apparently she says that she saw them together up in that glass thing in the roof. And that Padraig had seen her too and he said she had a rosary, so she must be a Catholic.”

“Padraig O’Mally!” Sister Veronica spat out his name.

“Yes, Sister.”

“I might have known he’d be involved.”

“She hates Padraig,” Donny whispered.

“She hates everyone,” Siobhan replied.

“Where in God’s name did this child come from? He’s been living up there on his own for years.”

“I don’t know, Sister, but ifs all very odd, if you ask me.”

“We must go up there,” declared Sister Veronica, “and ascertain if ifs the truth. And if it is we shall take steps to remove the child and bring her to the safety of St Joseph’s.”

“The three of us?” said Mrs Cullinane, and there- was a quiver of fear in her voice.

“I’ll phone the bishop first and tell him what we’re going to do. But I for one, Mrs Cullinane, am not afraid of Solly Benjamin. There is great evil afoot in this village at the moment and we, the soldiers of Christ, must be brave! We have a child to rescue, a Catholic child by the sound of it.”