A Girl Called Eilinora (7 page)

Eilinora knew. ‘I’ve just been to her grave at Mulranny.’

‘Well, the famine is no one’s fault, Eilinora, not anyone we can blame anyway. You need somewhere to live. Stay with me, but ye must promise to put your gift to good use. Will you do that?’

Eilinora nodded her head and looked down at the floor. She would tell Mrs McAndrew what she wanted to hear. She needed somewhere to live.

‘No one must know you are here, not anyone from up at the castle. You have used your gift for evil means, Eilinora. But I am far from scared of you, lady. My gifts are older and more powerful, I put mine to good use and we must do the same for you. I will be gone soon. You can carry on my work. Will you do that?’

‘I will, I will do that for you, but first, I have news of my own. I’m with child.’ She followed Mrs McAndrew back into the cottage and as she walked at the old woman’s pace, a smile crossed her face.

‘I knew that as soon as I saw you,’ said Mrs McAndrew. ‘’Tis bad work you have done here Eilinora, bad work. You have arrived at my door for a reason and I’m sure what that reason is. I know you blame the old lord for your mother’s death. I was there when she was birthing, there was nothing could be done and I couldn’t use my powers to save her or her daughter. It wasn’t his fault. No one knows who fathered the child she carried. You have it in your head ’twas his. You must get that notion away. ’Tis the past and there is nothing we can do about that. Our powers, they are for the future. We have to put everything right.’

‘We can soon,’ said Eilinora, ‘when I have finished.’ Eilinora knew more than Mrs McAndrew guessed. For now, she would keep her secrets close. She buried her mother and her baby sister on the same day. With her mother’s last breath, she passed her powers onto Eilinora and she would use them and she would revenge the death of the mother she had loved, for a long time to come.

*

Owen travelled to Lancashire on the train with his wife. They were to attend a shooting party in Scotland and they had taken up almost two carriages with cases and enough staff for the long weekend.

Owen thought Lydia seemed quieter than usual, preoccupied almost. He knew she was deeply concerned about the health of their son. Lydia had spent the week in and out of Harley Street, visiting one doctor after another and yet not one could diagnose the problem. Their son lay down on the opposite bench and they both looked at him, faces etched in parental love and concern.

‘Are you well, Lydia? Do you feel strong enough to take on the shooting party? The organization has been a lot of work for you stuck in London, I understand that.’ He leant over and gave his wife’s hand a squeeze.

He suddenly felt a sense of relief wash over him. He had almost been ensnared by the girl he had found on the road. Or had he? Had he lost his senses? He thought he must have. He had felt as though he were under a spell when in the presence of the girl from the Mulranny Road. To be back on English soil and free from her, in the company of his wife, well, it was a relief. He was a God fearing man. He understood the evil of temptation and God knew, he had been sorely tempted. As he leant back in his carriage, he felt a sense of triumph. He had been tested and he had survived because it must have been a dream, it had never happened. As each day passed, the sensations which had assailed him that morning in the inn faded until now, they were almost gone. He felt calmer; the past more distant, the memory of her, the smell, the invasiveness of her aura, it had gone for good. He had passed the most severe test that the devil could have placed in his path and he was grateful for that.

He had decided that within the month, he would return to Ballyford and that this time, he would take Lydia with him. He was sure, over time, Lydia would agree to join him. Most landlords had fled and had declared that they would not return until the land had lain fallow and the blight and typhus had spent itself out. He would be different. He would lead by example and return soon. With Lydia by his side, his strong Lydia, he could do it.

Lydia smiled and replied, ‘Oh, I’m fine. I’m just worried about our son. I hope the doctors get to the bottom of it all soon.’ Then changing the subject, she said, ‘Do you recall the girl you took into Ballyford, Owen, the one you picked up on the Mulranny Road? I told you to take her to the poor house, do you remember? I believe the carriage dropped her in Galway on your return. Well, Hudson has received a letter from Mrs Gibson and Shevlin yesterday, she has only turned up back at the castle, and get this piece of information, she’s pregnant, too. She can’t have been that starved or sick. Shevlin says she was hiding in Mrs McAndrew’s cottage and Mrs McAndrew refuses to let her be sent away. The Irish, they drive me to distraction. They are beyond comprehension.’

Lydia paused for breath whilst she dug around in her bag for a handkerchief.

‘Anyway, I’m sure as soon as her child is born, Mrs McAndrew will have no trouble tracking down who the father is. She has a witches’ knack for that sort of thing.’

Owen felt an icy trickle of fear run down his back as he looked into the all-knowing and familiar eyes of his wife.

The train swayed around a corner and swayed again as it righted itself. Owen jumped to his feet and, lifting his hand, clasped the leather strap hanging down as he looked on the shelf for his bag. Anything to avert the gaze of his wife and conceal the redness of his face.

‘What in God’s name is wrong with this train,’ said Owen as the train lunged once more but he never heard Lydia’s reply, only the screams of the staff in the next carriage as the train once again lurched to the side. At first the brakes screeched so loud that they drowned out all other noise and then there was silence as the train, having left the tracks, slowly fell to its resting place, hundreds of feet below the viaduct.

The last thing Owen saw before he met his maker, was the face of the girl with flaming red hair and the green eyes, smiling down at him.

~

We hope you enjoyed this book.

The story continues in
Ruby Flynn
,
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About Nadine Dorries

About the Four Streets Trilogy

Also by Nadine Dorries

An invitation from the publisher

This is the story which sets in motion the events of Nadine Dorries’s brilliant
Ruby Flynn
.

It is 1846, famine is gripping Ireland and nowhere is it crueller than in Mayo on the west coast. Owen FitzDeane of Ballyford Castle is a good landlord, but even he is powerless to save all his tenants. When he comes upon a half-dead girl beside the road, he insists on taking her back to the castle, to see if they can save her. But Eilinora is no ordinary girl and soon superstition and fear begin to swirl around her, while Lord FitzDeane of Ballyford falls deeper under her spell.

T
HE
F
OUR
S
TREETS

‘A vigorous and vibrant story of childhood in Fifties Liverpool... she has so vividly captured the Four Streets and its larger-than-life characters, the result is as fast-paced as it is entertaining. An addictive novel to be devoured at one sitting.’

Sunday Express

‘The characters are engaging, the street scenes cinematic and the theme of the novel powerful. One night I found myself reading it in the bath. You don’t do that for work.’

Ann Treneman,
The Times

‘Catholic Liverpool, Irish immigrants and dark secrets... a funny and sometimes shocking saga. I couldn’t put it down.’

Cristina Odone

‘The characters are engaging, the streets scenes cinematic and the theme of the novel powerful.’

The Times

‘Angela’s Ashes with a Scouse accent.’

Irish Times

‘A heartbreaking tale.’

Liverpool Echo

N
ADINE
D
ORRIES
grew up in a working-class family in Liverpool. She trained as a nurse, then followed with a successful career in which she established and sold her own business. She has been the MP for Mid-Bedfordshire since 2005 and has three daughters.

Connect with Nadine on Twitter,
@NadineDorriesMP
.

The Four Streets

1950
S
L
IVERPOOL

In the tight-knit Irish Catholic community of the Four Streets, two girls are growing up.

One is motherless – and hated by the cold woman who is determined to take her dead mother’s place. The other is hiding a dreadful secret which she dare not let slip to anyone, lest it rips the heart out of the community.

What can the people of the Four Streets do when a betrayal at the very heart of their world comes to light?

The Four Streets
is available
here
.