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Authors: Barbara Jones

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BOOK: Under the July Sun
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Following Cat and Ned was Billy holding hands with Marie. Maeve came next holding hands with Eileen and Anna. Peggy and Breda followed with Lize, Iris and Fred, Maureen and Reggie. Louis' mother, unable to walk the two miles to the cemetery, was absent.

Led by Cat and Ned they all went quietly to stand in place behind the glass-sided hearse. The only sound breaking the silence was the gentle clinking of the bridles as the horses moved their heads, as their black plumed feathers lifted and fell in the slight breeze.

In the stillness Cat became vaguely aware of neighbours lining the roadside to pay their last respects; of curtains drawn on every home; the men lifting their hats, and the sound of horses' hooves clashing against cobbles as they became impatient to proceed.

The funeral director stepped up to her and asked if she was ready to go and when she nodded, the hearse drew gently away.

As they left, Cat's mind raced through past events. She thought about the home they had lived in which had known both harsh times and laughter. Visions of their life together flashed through her mind. All the joint memories kaleidoscoped, and she found it hard to grasp that they were now taking this last journey together, moving towards Louis' final resting place, where he would lie alone in perpetuity.

Throughout the walk Cat was transfixed with the sound of the coffin bearers' boots crunching along in unison with the wheels of the hearse and the clip clop of horses' hooves. The rhythm somehow soothed her. It felt like the ticking of a clock.

On and on she walked, thinking that life was just like a treadmill, and that they were all on it together. Sometimes, she thought, someone just steps off the wheel a bit earlier than the rest. Ultimately she knew that her parents, her sisters, her children and herself would all step off somewhere, at some time, further along in time from life's eternal wheel.

Walking in the early summer sun, up slight inclines and down gently sloping roadways, became therapeutic to her. If only she could just go on walking like this, with Louis in front of them and the children behind. She could walk forever and not let this day end. Just to walk on endlessly, following her man.

After a mile the procession stopped and the funeral director approached Cat and said they would rest for five minutes.

Ned thanked him and took a hip flask out of his pocket. He offered the canteen to Cat.

‘Here, I've brought some water for ye.'

She took it without a word, drank some, and handed it back.

‘When you are quite ready, Madam,' the funeral director said, ‘we will go on, but please take your time, there is no hurry.'

Cat looked at him quizzically. No hurry? No, she thought, there's no hurry. Time means nothing at all now. There's no today, no tomorrow, and no next week or anything anymore. It didn't matter how much time it took to get there, the longer the better, because it meant Louis was still with them.'

She nodded to Ned. ‘I'm ready now. We'll make a start again.'

So he indicated to the funeral director that they should go and once more they began following the hearse along the cobbled road.

* * *

The priest blessed Louis' coffin with holy water and the coffin bearers lowered him slowly into the grave.

Cat watched as the oak casket bumped the sides of the hole on its way downward and felt angry, wishing they would be more careful.

Ned, sensing her anguish, squeezed her arm and stepped forward to take up a handful of earth. He handed it to her and one by one the children stepped forward and did the same.

The priest was chanting.

‘Ashes to ashes, dust-to-dust, earth-to-earth.'

She took one final look at the coffin and with her eyes shut threw in her handful of earth. The children watched her and did the same, then wiped their hands on their clothes.

Cat left the cemetery with the children and stood for a while looking over the stone wall as the gravediggers filled in the grave. Then sadly she turned and began walking home to life without Louis.

Part Four
62
Hogan Stables, Fethard
May 1933

‘Paddy! Will ye look at me?' Marie called as he leaned on the paddock gate.

‘Sure, I am after lookin' at ye, Madam!'

‘Well, here I go now,' she laughed as she spurred the pony into a canter to jump the pole propped up on two straw bales. As she landed Marie looked back to see if Paddy was still watching, and in that moment became unseated and fell off.

Quickly Paddy unlatched the gate and ran to where she lay motionless.

‘Are ye hurt, Marie?' he asked lifting her from the ground, but she was limp and fear gripped him.

‘Oh God, don't let her be hurt,' he murmured.

Suddenly she giggled.

‘Huh! That fooled ye!'

‘Oh ye little devil,' he said dropping her, ‘I thought ye were dead.'

Marie pointed a finger at him.

‘Ha ha, that caught ye out.'

She scrambled to her feet and continued to laugh as he chased her around the paddock. When he caught hold of her, he tickled her until she yelled for him to stop. But he wasn't prepared to give in that easily,

‘Say ye're sorry then,' he demanded.

‘Oh
sure
I am.'

He let go of her.

‘Don't ye be cheekin' me now, Marie, or I'll have to set about ticklin' ye again,' he said breathing heavily, ‘Now, get back in the saddle and finish off yer exercises before I put her away for the night.'

Paddy lit a cigarette and stood watching Marie remount the pony, then sit perfectly straight in the saddle and trot around the paddock practicing her show jumping.

He checked the time on his watch.

‘Now then. Same time tomorrow and we're ready for the show on Saturday, where we intend to win – is that right?'

Marie jerked her head to flick the hair off her face and smiled at him

In her face Paddy suddenly saw a vision of Cat. His chest constricted and he felt his jaws tighten in the familiar way he once experienced whenever he heard Cat's name, or saw someone that reminded him of her.

All these years later, and he still could not rid himself of anger at being jilted. She haunted his dreams; burned a huge jealous streak into the calm of his life. Damn her, he thought!

Marie called to him and reluctantly he dragged his thoughts into the present. He opened the gate to allow her to trot through with the pony then closed it behind her.

Smirking, she looked down at him.

‘Thank ye yer Lordship.'

‘Don't ye get too cheeky young lady,' he laughed as she steered the pony towards the stable.

Marie turned in the saddle at the stable door. ‘Are ye goin' to rub her down or will I?'

He thought for a moment. ‘Why don't we do it together, 'twill be quicker.'

‘Right, together it is then,' she said slipping down from the saddle and began unbuckling the girth strap.

Paddy pulled the saddle off and heaved it up onto the side of the horse stall

‘Now, Miss,' he said looking serious, ‘ye'll need to be here nice and early on Saturday, we've to plait the tail and give her a good brush before the competition.'

‘Have I ever been late? Ye know ye don't have to worry about me bein' here I'll arrive before ye've had yer breakfast.'

‘Good. Now be off home or yer aunties will be eatin' supper alone again.'

‘Aw they don't mind, Paddy.'

‘Nevertheless, off ye go now.'

‘I'm goin',' she said moving toward him and raised her chin. ‘Kiss before I leave?'

‘C'mon now,' he said giving her a peck on the cheek, ‘away with ye.'

She turned and walked toward the stable door.

‘See ye tomorrow then, Paddy. Bye.'

After she left he stopped what he was doing and stood thinking for a while. What in the name of God was he doing? He had begun to feel something different for this young girl who reminded him so much of her mother.

He reflected that there was no hope of any children of his own as years of marriage had failed to produce one single baby. Now, with his wife so poorly, it was final – there would be no heir.

Strange thoughts had begun to creep into his head of late. He'd begun thinking that if his wife died then he could wait a few years and maybe, just maybe - Marie and him? No, don't be so stupid, he chided himself. She was just a child. And yet - what was wrong with having a little daydream to help him through?

He finished putting the pony to bed, left the stable, bolted the door and strolled across to the house.

The silence enveloped him like a heavy black blanket. He liked peace and quiet, but he had begun to feel he was dying a slow suffocating death along with his wife; just going through the paces of living out the months until he was a single man again.

The atmosphere oppressed him but there was no way out. Oh well, he thought, better get inside and cook the supper and then sit alone reading some old book until bedtime.

He sat brooding long into the evening and as often occurred, his mind turned to the events of years gone by, of his involvement with the Irish National Volunteers and their attempts to disrupt the political endeavours of the British Government.

All a long time ago now, he thought, and for what purpose? Nothing had come of it all and they were no better off. True, he was comfortable himself as he had inherited everything from his parents, but many of the local population were in dire straits and most young people left to work in England or America once they finished school.

There was no work around in Fethard other than on the land, the railway or the dairy. The place was dying along with his wife.

Paddy did not have to worry about money as the thoroughbred racehorses he bred were much sought after. He had the finest bloodline in winners throughout Tipperary, if not the whole of Ireland.

But there was a void in his life. A big hole that was never filled. He knew that it was because he had no family other than his wife, and she too would soon be gone.

63
St. Mary's Convent School,
Eltham
June 1933

Anna knocked on Mother Superior's door. She heard her call
come in
, and slipped inside.

‘Sister Monica said you wanted to see me, Mother,' Anna said, looking worried.

‘Yes, Anna I do,' the nun answered pulling an envelope out of her desk drawer. ‘Just wait one minute and I'll be finished. I want you to take this letter home to your mother.'

She wrote something on the envelope and looked up, smiling at Anna. ‘It's all right Anna, you are not in any trouble; it's just a letter for your mother. Nothing to worry about.'

Mother Superior saw Anna's visible relief so opened her drawer again and pulled out a bag of sweets.

‘Come here and choose yourself a sweet,' she said.

‘Oh thank you, Mother. I thought I was in trouble.'

Anna went to the desk and took a sweet from the bag Mother Superior held open, and popped it in her mouth.

‘Should you be in trouble over anything then, Anna? ‘

‘Well, Mother, I thought maybe it was because of my socks.'

Mother Superior stood up and peered over the edge of her desk to view Anna's socks. She noticed they were not the uniform grey woollen ones, but were white and crocheted. She sat down and smiled.

‘They are rather smart socks, Anna. Were they a present?'

‘No not really, Mother. The lady Mummy cleans for gave them to us as her daughter had outgrown them.'

‘Well that was very kind of her. But why would you think you were in trouble over the socks?'

‘Because Sister Monica told me I was bold wearing them to school, Mother, and she said that I was never to wear them again. She made me stand in front of the class and said I was showing off by wearing them to school.'

Anna's face burned with embarrassment and she stared at the floor.

‘Come here my dear,' Mother Superior said pushing her chair away from the desk. ‘Our Lord entered this world without clothes, without a house and with nowhere to sleep. Since that time, throughout history, we have remembered the Inn Keeper, as he was kind enough to show some pity towards the family and allow them to stay in their cattle shed. It may not have seemed much, but for those days I suppose you could say it was a big act of kindness, wouldn't you agree?'

‘Yes Mother I would.'

‘So, Anna, just remember that if people are kind enough to give something to less fortunate children we should remember that they are only following the example of the Inn Keeper and that accepting that kindness is nothing to be ashamed of.' She ran her hand over Anna's curls. ‘Wear the socks as often as you like, it's far too hot to wear wool.'

‘But I'll get into trouble from Sister Monica, Mother.'

‘I'll have a word with her, Anna. We are about to change the uniform rules for summertime anyway, so this will remind me to see to it. Run along now,' she said.

As Anna reached the door Mother Superior called to her.

‘Anna, finish the sweet before you go back into class, we don't want you to be in trouble for eating in Sister Monica's lessons do we?'

Anna grinned at her before closing the door behind her.

* * *

Cat bustled into the parlour with Elizabeth and dumped a huge pile of washing on the floor. She saw the table had been set, the kettle was boiling on the range and Eileen and Anna were busy buttering bread.

‘Ah 'tis good gels ye are,' she smiled at them. ‘I can always rely on ye and I don't know what I'd do without ye.'

She went over and kissed them both and gave them a hug. ‘Now Billy, will ye get off yer backside and take that pile o' clothes outside for me?'

Billy dropped the book he was reading, scowled, and reluctantly picked up the washing.

‘Where do you want it?' he asked, clearly annoyed he had been requested to do something.

‘Where d'ya think? Where it always goes. And ye shouldn't need to question that.'

BOOK: Under the July Sun
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