Twist of Gold (2 page)

MOTHER
: Leave and go where, sir?

WILL
: Anywhere, but away from the Plague.

    
Pause.

MOTHER
: Annie. Sit me up so that I can see this man better.

    
She does so.

    Now, leave us children, I’ll be wanting a few words with your soldier friend here. And don’t be listening outside. There you go now.

    
ANNIE
opens her mouth to ask a question –

    No questions, Annie. Just do as I say.

    
They leave.

MOTHER
:
(To
WILL
.)
You’re right. They should leave.

WILL
: ‘They’?

MOTHER
: I am dying, Soldier.

WILL
: You are brave to admit it.

MOTHER
: Death and the dying of it hold no fear for me. I know that my children Danny, Mary and Little Joe will be waiting for me on the other side. It
is the parting from the living that troubles me.

WILL
: Sean and Annie.

MOTHER
: Sean and Annie. They should leave for America.

WILL
: America?

MOTHER
: It’s where their father went, when the other children began to starve. He said that way there would be less mouths to feed…

    
FATHER
‘delivers’ his letter:

FATHER
: ‘
…that way there will be less mouths to feed. But I will also be seeking our fortune, the O’Brien family fortune, seeking
it out, surely, in bounteous America, the plentiful land of opportunity…
’

MOTHER
: I should never have let him go.

WILL
: Why not?

MOTHER
: Because he left over a year ago. And he has yet to return.

    
Pause while this sinks in.

    Mister Soldier, sir, will you be taking the children to the docks at Cork. The ships set sail from there to America, do they not?

WILL
: They do. But for America? It’s a fierce journey – especially for young children alone. And besides, the passage doesn’t come
cheap. These ships’ captains want hard cash.

MOTHER
: But we have none, sir.

WILL
: And they’ll not give you passage without it.

MOTHER
:
(Defeated.)
No, sir.

WILL
: I have money enough, Ma’am. Enough for the three of you. A soldier’s pay is poor enough, but it is regular and I always keep some by
me. You can get a passage for as little as…six pounds.

MOTHER
: ’Tis too much. Why would you want to spend your money on us?

WILL
: Your children make me smile and God knows I’ve done little enough of that since I’ve been over here.

MOTHER
: I see now there may be some good in you.

WILL
: Thank you Ma’am.

MOTHER
: Even though you are an Englishman.

    
Outside,
SEAN
and
ANNIE
are by the graves of their brothers and sister.

ANNIE
: Sean: if I ask you one question, will you promise me to answer true?

SEAN
: I know what you’re going to ask, Annie –

ANNIE
: I’m old enough, I’m nearly eleven, and that’s only three years younger than you. And she is my mother. I’ve a right to
know.

SEAN
:
(Softly.)
She is dying, Annie. And that’s the truth of it. You know it without me telling you. We saw it with the others, the way
their colour goes and the way they don’t seem to want food even if it’s there. They were just the same and they died.

ANNIE
: Yes, I knew it, Sean. So we’ll not be going anywhere, will we?

SEAN
: She’s too weak to move.

    
WILL
has come outside.

WILL
: Your Mother wishes to speak with you, children.

    
They enter their home.

MOTHER
: Come closer, children. Tell them, Will. Tell them what you told me.

WILL
: There’s no hope for any of you in Ireland.

SEAN
: Don’t presume the future of our nation, mister!

WILL
: If the hunger doesn’t kill you, then the Plague will. I’ve seen it all over this country.

MOTHER
: So that is why you must go.

SEAN
: Go where?

MOTHER
: To America. To Boston, where your father sailed to. And from where he went West.

ANNIE
: But we must wait here for Father.

MOTHER
: There’s no time to wait, Annie.

ANNIE
: Then you will come with us.

MOTHER
: I shall be staying here, Annie. With Danny and Mary and little Joe.

WILL
: We should go.

ANNIE
: Why do you need to look after them and not us? Haven’t enough of us passed away? Why won’t you come with us?

MOTHER
: You’re always asking questions, Annie. Will you never just listen? Here. I want you to have this.

    
She takes a golden torc – a golden necklace – from her bosom.

    The O’Briens were once a great clan, rich in land. We fought alongside kings. All we have now is you, Sean; and you, Annie – and this
ancient torc of beaten gold, worn by the O’Brien chieftains one thousand years ago. Here. Wherever the O’Briens go, this torc must go with them. So long as we keep it, we will never
forget who we are. You will wear it, Annie, and keep it hidden all the way to America. Put it round her neck, Sean. It will protect you both from the dangers you will be facing. It is the
O’Brien soul you carry with you. Now, you can kiss me before you leave.

SEAN
: We can’t leave now.

MOTHER
: You are to leave now. With Will. He’ll take you to Cork and you will set sail for America.

    
ANNIE
kisses her mother and buries her face in her shoulder.

    Look after your brother, Annie.

    
ANNIE
hugs her
MOTHER
even more tightly.
SEAN
gently prises them
apart.

    And I give you permission to insist that Sean washes his neck.

    
They laugh a little.

ANNIE
: Mother?

MOTHER
: Yes, my darling.

ANNIE
: Where is ’Merica anyway?

    
A sudden blast of sea-air. Cork. The bustle of the docks, the curses of sailors, the screeching of gulls.

WILL
: She’s making ready to sail. The tide’s in her favour. But we’ll make it.

    
They run to the gangplank –
CAPTAIN MURRAY
stands at the top. He appears to be charm itself. A surly looking First
Officer,
MR BLUNDELL
, stands by his side.

    Captain! I want the best quarters you have for my two young friends. I want two berths on the upper deck and I want these children looked after like
royalty.

CAPTAIN
: I have a full ship, Sergeant. But I might find the room.

WILL
: Captain, I’ll pay you twenty pounds –

CAPTAIN
:
(Disingenuous.)
Oh no, Sergeant, it is too much.

WILL
: Each. As a seal of honour. But on the strict understanding that they travel in comfort. Under no circumstances will they travel in steerage.

    
He counts out the money and proffers it to the
CAPTAIN
.

    Do I have your promise, Captain?

CAPTAIN
: I am an officer and a gentleman. I will keep them under my personal supervision – they will be cared for as if they were my own.

WILL
: They are in your charge.
(To
SEAN, ANNIE
.)
Here. Take my water bottle. And make sure it’s filled afresh each
day.

SEAN
: Thank you.

WILL
: Sean, Annie: you’re on your own.

SEAN
: Will you not come with us?

WILL:
It’s a voyage you must make yourselves. My direction is elsewhere.

    
And he descends the gangplank.

SEAN:
Will you not be saying a proper goodbye, Will?

    
WILL
walks on.

SEAN:
Will you not be waving?

WILL:
(Without turning.)
Never look back, Sean. Never look back.

    
He disappears in the throng.

SEAN:
(To
ANNIE
.)
Let’s go to the front of the ship and see if we can see America.

    
They proceed to the prow of the ship.

ANNIE:
Will we not see Will again?

SEAN:
No, I don’t suppose we shall.

ANNIE:
Nor Ireland?

SEAN:
No. But we’re going to America, Annie. We’re going to find Father. He’ll have bought a farm – ’tis hundreds of years
since the O’Briens owned the land they worked on.

ANNIE:
I can’t see it.

SEAN:
Can’t see what?

ANNIE:
’Merica.

SEAN:
Well, it’s out there somewhere.

    
The ship’s bell rings.

MR BLUNDELL:
All hands on deck!

    
And ‘All hands on deck!’ is echoed throughout the ship.

CAPTAIN:
My name is Captain Murray, late of Her Majesty’s Royal Navy and Captain of this good ship
The Pelican
. I keep a tight ship, and
expect you all to keep to the rules. If you abide by these rules, then I will treat you fairly – if not, well, it is for the good of the many that the few shall be reprimanded. We set a
fair sail West on a brisk wind and true tide. My ship is your home; my home, your ship. You are the pioneers. I am your deliverer. May God bless you,
The Pelican
, and all who set sail in
her for a New World!

    
Cheers to the echo at his rousing speech.

ANNIE:
Mister Captain?

CAPTAIN:
Yes, little lady?

ANNIE:
I’m not little. Can you be telling me where we sleep, sir?

CAPTAIN:
You’ll be the Sergeant of Dragoons’ girl. You’ll accompany my First Officer, Mr Blundell here. He will show you where you
will reside for the voyage.

ANNIE:
Thank you, Captain.

CAPTAIN:
And, young lady: I see you have about you something that is precious.

    
ANNIE
clasps her neck in a vain attempt to hide the torc.

    And if
I
have seen it, you can be certain that others on board will have spied it too. Beware of vagabonds, tinkers… Well, you know your
fellow countrymen.

SEAN:
Sir?

CAPTAIN:
Mr Blundell.

MR BLUNDELL:
Captain.

CAPTAIN:
Be so kind as to lock away the young lady’s valuables in my private quarters, for safe-keeping.

ANNIE:
Sean? Do you think it wise?

SEAN:
(Unsure.)
I do, Annie. The Captain is right. ’Tis mixed company we keep aboard this ship. He will protect us and our torc.

ANNIE:
(To the
CAPTAIN
.)
Thank you, sir.

CAPTAIN:
Please, it is my humble duty. Now, Mr Blundell, show them the comfort for which the Sergeant has so handsomely paid.

MR BLUNDELL:
Ay, ay, Captain.

    
They descend into steerage. Around them in the gloom, they are aware of the creaking timbers, of wailing babies, retching bodies.

MR BLUNDELL:
Make yourself a bed anywhere you can, anyhow you like.
(To
SEAN.
)
And report to me at dawn, young lad.

    
MR BLUNDELL
leaves.
ANNIE
and
SEAN
proceed through the misery.

ANNIE:
Why are they so sick, Sean?

EMIGRANT:
’Tis the malady of the sea. It will pass.

ANNIE:
Is this the passage Will has paid for? Are these the quarters the Captain promised?

    
A shaft of radiant light picks out a
FIDDLE PLAYER
who starts to play a jig: feet tap; hands clap, and all are comforted by
the music. When the fiddling has stopped,
SEAN
and
ANNIE
approach the
FIDDLE PLAYER.

FIDDLE PLAYER:
I’m as thin as a rake, so why don’t you twos join me on the comfortable floor here. Very snug. There’s not enough room
to swing a mouse, is there, let alone –

SEAN/ANNIE:
A ship’s cat!

FIDDLE PLAYER/DONNELLY:
(Smiling at their quick-wit.)
My name is Liam Donnelly – I’m from County Sligo and Boston-bound like all
these good folk here. There’s not a lot I can do besides play my fiddle, but I’m mighty good at that, best in all Sligo, though I say it myself. I’m a modest sort of fellow,
ain’t I? And who might you be?

ANNIE:
I’m Annie O’Brien, and he’s my brother, Sean; and I’m hungry.

DONNELLY:
Well, we’ll not be having a feast here by the looks of it. But I’ve half a loaf of bread – all I have in the world, besides
my fiddle. But my fiddle you can not eat. So, Annie O’Brien, you’re welcome to share my bread. We’ve best be quiet about it though, for there’s some hungry mouths around
here and I’ve not enough for the feeding of the five thousand.