Till the Sun Shines Through (58 page)

Katie felt tears pricking the back of her eyes and her throat becoming unaccountably tight. Bridie saw tears glisten on Katie's lashes and wondered if she was doing any good coming here and upsetting her children like this.

Father Phillips could have told her that the tears were a good sign, releasing the tension that for so long had stilled the children's tongues. But Bridie didn't know that. All she knew was that she wanted to hold her children, but Liam had curled himself into a defensive ball and Katie held herself stiffly in Bridie's embrace.

‘Darlings, please,' Bridie pleaded. ‘Please stop crying. Please let me explain everything to you.' And then as the crying failed to ease she sighed, ‘Oh God! How I've searched for you.'

Katie stared at her mother. What was she talking about? They weren't lost.

Bridie saw the look and though she didn't fully understand it, she began to talk, telling them of hearing of the raid on the wireless in Ireland and the sights that greeted her when she returned. Father Phillips said they must be told the whole truth; much of it, he'd said, they would already have guessed but they deserved to be told of the death of their loved ones and be allowed to grieve for them.

And so Bridie told them how she'd found Ellen and Sam and Mary dead and Mickey in hospital and no one could tell her what happened to Katie and Liam. Liam's sobs eased as Bridie talked, for this was the mammy he remembered. Her voice was the same and he began to relax.

Then Bridie said, ‘I thought you were buried under the rubble.'

Liam gave a moan and a shudder passed through his whole body. He was back again in that inky black dust-filled space that he'd fallen into while the house above him creaked and groaned and bits kept falling into his face. He couldn't move either, for his legs were held fast by something.

In all his life, he'd never been so scared, too scared even to cry. His hands had run over the ground around him, hoping against hope that he wasn't there alone, that his aunt Mary was there and she'd make everything all right.

But the hand he had connected with had been small and slight. ‘Katie,' he had said, his throat husky with the dust, pleased he wasn't alone. ‘I'm scared, Katie, and there's dust down my throat and up my nose.' He had begun to cough and couldn't seem to stop until tears ran from his streaming eyes.

Eventually the coughing had eased and Liam had run his sleeve over his eyes and nose and had said, ‘My throat's sore, Katie and I don't half want a drink.'

‘And me,' Katie had said. ‘Try not to think of it. Can you come over to me? My hair's caught somewhere at the back.'

‘I can't, my leg's stuck.'

‘Wriggle a bit, try and pull it out!' Katie had said, as desperate for the feel of another person next to her as her brother was. Liam had tried, twisting this way and that, until the stack above him had tilted and more bits trickled down on him, including one large lump of wood which hit him squarely on the head and knocked him out.

Katie had heard the thump and had called, ‘Liam, are you all right?'

But there had been only silence and, horror struck, she had slithered over the ground towards her brother, nearly pulling her hair from its roots as it was held by a pile of debris.

Liam had lain still, though she had pushed at him and spoken to him incessantly. He was dead, she had thought, and by telling him to wriggle and move, she'd killed him.

That was what had rendered her speechless. And then she'd lain in the pitch black alone, but for her dead brother beside her, until rescue came some time later.

The memories had come flooding back for her, too, and Bridie looked from her son to the bleached white face of her daughter and could only guess how much they'd suffered.

‘I went a little crazy when I thought you were dead,' Bridie said. ‘Daddy came home, and Uncle Eddie, but they had to go back and I was alone and very unhappy. Then Rosalyn came. She's my cousin, yours too. She'd been in America, but was over in Ireland and my daddy asked her to come and see me. She saved me from going mad altogether. My darling children, I love you so very much.'

That broke both children completely. Liam tightened his arm around his mother, while Katie sagged against her.

Bridie hugged them to her with a sigh of relief. It had been three long months since she held them that way and her arms had ached for the feel of them. She staggered to her feet, still holding them, and sank into an armchair with the children nestled each side of her and told them how she'd heard of their rescue. ‘Though the person didn't know whether you were alive or not, Rosalyn and I began to search all over again. That eventually led me to Oakengates.'

Why didn't you take us away then? Liam's eyes said. It was as if he'd spoken. ‘You were ill then,' Bridie explained, ‘and I was told it would be too upsetting for you to see me.'

Liam glanced at his sister and they both stared at Bridie disbelievingly. Grown-ups weren't told what to do.

‘Believe me, it's true,' Bridie said. ‘And I had no home for you then. I lived in one bare attic room. It was all I could get and there would have been no room for you there, even if I could have got the landlady to agree. But I'd have loved to have seen you.'

So, Katie thought, what was her mammy saying? They couldn't go home with her, was that it?

But then Bridie told them of their grandma and grandad in Ireland who they'd never met but who would love to have them all stay there. She told them of Jay and Mickey already there, and described the cottage and the farmlands and hillsides around until she sensed their excitement. It was another new place, but this time their mammy would be with them and they'd see their cousins who they loved. Liam and Katie smiled at one another.

The smile felt strange to them; they'd not had much to smile about for some weeks. Stranger still was Katie's voice, which came out husky and hesitant as she asked, ‘When do we go?'

Bridie hardly heard the question. She'd been told her children were mute and now she held Katie slightly away from her in amazement. ‘Katie, you spoke!' she exclaimed delightedly, hugging her. Katie's mouth felt strange, her lips tight, but she smiled at her mother. Though her mammy looked happy, there were tears trickling down her cheeks. Katie couldn't understand it and neither could Liam; he was worried by the tears. He turned around, put his little arms around her neck, and said, ‘Don't cry, Mammy.'

Now Bridie cried in earnest and almost tumbled the children to the floor in her haste to get to the door and summon Father Phillips and Rosalyn to hear the good news.

The children were still hesitant to talk much, and Father Phillips advised Bridie not to rush them, but Bridie was content to wait. She'd seem glimpses of the old Katie and Liam and knew that with love and time they'd soon be back to normal. They got on well with Rosalyn too and she was enchanted by them.

‘I don't think the psychiatrist will find much wrong with them,' Father Phillips said to Bridie. ‘He's coming tomorrow.'

‘Is he the same one they saw at the other place?'

‘No, I didn't think that at all wise,' Father Phillips said. ‘But he'll have all the old notes.'

The psychiatrist arrived expecting to see severely traumatised and mute children, but the two children he met were anything but unbalanced. He thought it entirely natural to have been traumatised after being buried beneath the rubble of a house and thought they were coping rather well and though neither of them were chatterboxes, they answered all the questions he asked them and he was satisfied.

He made a diagnosis that the children had suffered fear so extreme, it had caused a temporary loss of voice. Being reunited with their mother had obviously had a beneficial effect on the children's wellbeing and general health. He recommended that the children be released into their mother's care, especially as she had a home they would be welcomed into, well away from the horrors of bombing raids.

This, together with the character reference from Father Shearer and the letter from the doctor and the parish priest in Donegal, led that the board of trustees which operated the home voted in favour of accepting the psychiatrist's recommendation.

It was an emotional moment the morning they actually left, for Bridie realised how much she owed Father Phillips, and Father Shearer and Father Flynn too. They waived away her thanks and said they'd been glad to help, but Bridie wasn't at all sure she'd have got her children back without their help. Katie and Liam, though, were anxious to leave, terribly excited to be starting on this adventure to see their grandparents and cousins.

Rosalyn, who'd gone to spend a few days with Todd after the children's future had been secured, met up with them all at New Street Station. ‘It was quite a wrench saying goodbye to Father Phillips this morning,' Bridie said to Rosalyn as they boarded the train. ‘He's been such a tower of strength to me. Well, they all have.'

‘Aye, they have,' Rosalyn agreed and then added with a smile. ‘Bet it wasn't such a wrench to say goodbye to your room?'

‘You can say that again,' Bridie said. ‘And it gave me great pleasure to tell the landlady I was leaving and wouldn't be back and she could let it to who she liked if she could find someone mug enough to take it.'

‘Good for you,' Rosalyn said. ‘Mercenary old cow.'

‘Ssh,' Bridie whispered. ‘Liam has ears on him like a donkey and repeats everything. I don't want him coming out with that in front of Mammy.'

‘Sorry, I forgot,' Rosalyn said, and added with a little laugh, ‘wouldn't have mattered what he heard if he was still mute.'

‘Oh aye,' Bridie said. ‘Then wouldn't he have a fine store of bad words to let rip with when he began to talk again?' The image of Liam standing before his grandmother, spewing out one obscenity after another, was so funny that both girls burst out laughing, bringing the children's attention from the comics Rosalyn had brought them. ‘What's funny?' Katie asked.

‘Nothing,' Rosalyn said. ‘Nothing you need worry your little head over anyway.'

Katie shrugged. When adults went on like that you were wasting your time talking to them, you'd never get a straight answer, but she was too happy and excited to care much.

Katie and Liam took to travelling with aplomb, changing trains at Crewe as if they'd done it all their lives. The ship enchanted them and they insisted on exploring every nook and cranny of it. Bridie was constantly up and down the narrow metal stairs, inspecting the saloons, and up on deck, both front and back, or to the prow or astern as one sailor, amused at the children's interest, told them. They were impressed by the thick hawser he pointed out that was tying the boat to the concrete bollards at the docks and reassured by the lifeboats he showed them that were slung above them. ‘Just in case the ship should strike a rock and sink,' he told them solemnly.

Bridie wondered if that thought might have made them nervous, but not a bit of it. ‘It would be all right,' Katie told her confidently. ‘We know where all the lifeboats are, you see, and the sailor said he'd make sure we all got into one.'

‘That's good,' Rosalyn said. ‘But if it's all the same to you, I'd rather not put it to the test.'

Katie's reply was drowned out by the screech of the hooter. It was so loud and shrill that everyone had their fingers in their ears. A cloud of black smoke escaped from the funnel as the engines throbbed into life and then the children were hanging over the rail, tightly held onto by their mother and Rosalyn. They saw the gangplank raised and the ropes unwound from the bollards and they waved wildly to the grinning sailors as the ship pulled away from Liverpool, moving slowly through the sludgy grey water.

Once in open water, it picked up speed, riding over the white-crested breakers, churning and seething before the ship. The sky was the colour of gun-metal and the clouds low and dense and yet Bridie felt as light as air.

Despite her own churning stomach, Rosalyn, she noticed, had become quite green as the ship hit the open water. The children, cavorting about on the deck with other travelling children, under Bridie's watchful eye, had obviously never heard of sea-sickness, but Rosalyn was suffering.

‘Do you want to go inside?'

Rosalyn shivered. ‘God no! It would be worse in there.'

Bridie had to agree with her, but the February day was raw and cold with biting wind and a dampness in the air. ‘I suppose being pregnant doesn't help,' Rosalyn said.

‘Pregnant! You're pregnant?' Bridie cried delightedly. ‘But you said Todd …'

‘I know,' Rosalyn said. ‘He didn't want children till after the war, but I talked to him at Christmas. I want to have his child, Bridie. Heaven forbid anything should happen to him, but … I want his child.'

Bridie knew how she felt. She was so glad she had her little ones and while Katie resembled her, Liam's likeness to his father was startling, now he'd lost the chubbiness of babyhood.

‘Your mother will be over the moon,' she said.

‘I can't tell her yet, not till I'm sure, and then not until I've told Todd first. You're sworn to secrecy, Bridie.'

‘I shan't say a word,' Bridie promised. ‘But don't be surprised if your mother guesses.'

‘I hope it will help her,' Rosalyn said in a low voice. She glanced around to see the children were not in earshot before saying, ‘She was devastated over what had happened to you.'

‘I know, she told me,' Bridie said, ‘God, Rosalyn, she could barely look me in the eye and if she said she was sorry once, she said it thirty times. Try and convince her I don't blame her in the slightest, will you?'

‘Aye, I will.' Rosalyn promised.

Bridie hoped so: Francis's wife had been a victim too and had been forced in the end to drastic measures. She didn't want her beating herself up for what had happened to her, for she'd had no hand in it.