Under the Hawthorn Tree (5 page)

They stopped for a few minutes at a little brook and all had a sip of water or threw it on their faces to refresh themselves. Tom Daly avoided their eyes and seemed preoccupied. Statia Kennedy slipped
off her rough boots and was bathing her foot.

Once again they began to walk. Peggy started to whine, but when she saw the fierce glare in Eily’s eyes forced herself to stop.

‘Don’t you dare draw attention to us with your snivelling, Miss, or I’ll give you a right belt, do you hear?’

‘Yes, Eily, I’m sorry,’ murmured Peggy quietly, sensing that she had to behave herself.

They had almost left Duneen, the district they knew so well – another few miles would bring them to the workhouse.

‘Oh! Mother of God, my poor old foot!’ Statia Kennedy was lying on the ground, her daughter helping her and a few old ones all around her. She dragged off the old leather boots. The dirty black toes were bleeding and sore, the foot puffed and swollen. The old woman was moaning in pain.

Eily winked at Michael. He casually jumped over a low stone wall and walked toward a clump of bushes as if he had to answer a call of nature. In a minute he was out of sight.

The two girls stood still as Tom Daly walked back and knelt down beside the old woman.

‘Let me die here along the road, for I’ll never make it to the workhouse,’ Statia sobbed.

Tom Daly was trying to soothe and calm her. All
eyes were watching him to see what he would do now.

Quick as a flash, Eily jerked Peggy’s arm and half-dragged and half-threw her over the stone wall. They bent double and made their way to the bushes. There the three of them wove their way behind the hedgerows and fields. They crossed more stone walls. Gradually they began to make their way uphill, trying to keep hidden.

‘Eily, Eily, for heaven’s sake come back.’

She could hear Tom Daly calling her name in the distance down below. The three of them kept running. Their hearts hammered in their chests and their breath came in gasps. When they had reached the far side of the hill they slowed down. They had in fact doubled back and were on familiar ground. There was silence all around except for the screech of a bird in the sky. They stopped to rest. From the knees down, their legs were covered in nettle rash. Obviously they had run through the nettles without realising it.

‘Michael! Michael!’

It was the O’Connell twins, Seamus and Peadar, identical, with their red curly hair and bright green eyes. They were moving towards them but luckily hadn’t spotted them. Quick as lightning the children got down low on their stomachs and
managed to drag themselves into a large clump of bracken and gorse. The fields and hillsides were covered with gorse, its vivid yellow flowers making bright smudges on the landscape. It was thorny and spiky, and tore their hands and cut their faces. Even through their clothes it scratched their skin. They lay still, not daring even to breathe. Now they understood the fear of a petrified rabbit or hare cornered in the bushes.

Peadar stood a few feet away from them. He had a thin stick in his hand. He brought it down sharply on the gorse, making the whole clump move. Eily kept her eyes tightly shut.

‘Shamey, Shamey, there’s no sight of them. How long does Tom want us to search for them before we catch him up on the road?’ They had moved away a bit by now and were complaining to each other. The voices seemed more distant, but Michael insisted that they stay put just in case it was a trap. Eily was so crouched that her toes and feet had gone numb. A large prickle was pressing against her back. She had to force herself to lie still.

Peadar’s voice suddenly got louder and a third person had joined them. Had Tom Daly come himself to search for them? No, it wasn’t a man’s voice. They knew the voice. It was Mary Kate. Another twenty minutes or so passed and there
wasn’t a sound. Was it safe to come out?

‘Nanny, Nanny. Will you show yourself, you bothersome creature? I’m worn out with you,’ cajoled Mary Kate. The old woman was looking for her goat. That would explain her being up the back fields.

‘Oh Nanny, you have my poor old heart broken,’ wailed Mary Kate.

Eily could see her through the bushes and could hardly believe her eyes – Mary Kate was winking, or was there something wrong with her eye? No, she was definitely winking. The old lady was standing in front of them.

‘Nanny, Nanny,’ she shouted out loud, then in a low voice whispered, ‘You’re all right now, you spalpeens, I’ve sent them on a wild goose chase. Come out of there quick and we’ll go back to my place.’

They could hardly believe their ears or eyes. They were stiff and sore, but still had to keep low until they came to Mary Kate’s cottage. She pushed them inside and then closed the door.

They blinked in the gloom, trying to get used to the darkness after the bright sunshine outside. Once inside, Mary Kate hugged each of them in turn. They told her the whole story and how they had managed to escape from being sent to the
workhouse. She tut-tutted and said how brave they were. While they talked she got water and a cloth and busied herself bathing and cleaning their scratches and nettle stings. Then with two grimy fingers she smeared a greasy ointment on the affected parts. It smelled foul, like something rotten, but within about two minutes all the pain and stinging had eased. The cottage was filthy, as usual, and Eily was tempted to take the broom and give it a good sweep out in order to repay the old lady’s kindness in sheltering them. With the four of them inside there was scarcely room to move. The children squatted on the floor among the ashes and dirt. Mary Kate began to poke at the fire and put a large pot on to cook.

‘Children, you know you are welcome here with me,’ said Mary Kate.

Eily knew she meant i t , but i t would be impossible to stay there as the place was far too small and Mary Kate was used to having it to herself. Also there would be the risk that Tom Daly would find out they were there and maybe evict the old lady.

‘We’ll stay the night, Mary Kate,’ said Eily, trying not to sound ungrateful, ‘but at first light tomorrow we must set off on our journey to Castletaggart to find our aunts. We don’t know what has happened
Mother and Father, but they’ll come after us if they can.’

Peggy had begun to relax and found she was no longer afraid of the old lady, and she sat at Mary Kate’s feet, petting Tinker. A delightful smell came from the pot and filled the air. The children’s stomachs groaned with hunger. Mary Kate got four plates from under a pile of rubbish. She wiped them with her sleeve and then ladled out the piping hot mixture. Eily and Michael couldn’t work out exactly what it was, but it tasted grand and maybe it was better not to ask what was in it, as God only knows what the old woman had managed to collect for her cooking pot.

Then Mary Kate tucked Peggy up in her settle bed. Afterwards she sat down in her old chair and chatted to Michael and Eily. She got two or three jars down and took off the lids.

‘This one is for the fever. You mix it with water and drink it about four times a day,’ began Mary Kate. ‘This one is for stomach ache and cramps. You take a pinch of the leaves and herbs and chew them – never mind the taste. And this is the one I used tonight. It is for cuts and wounds, bites and stings. First of all, you must clean the wound well and then put on the ointment.’

She replaced the lids and gave them to Eily. ‘You
have a long journey ahead, let nature be your friend and help. Keep away from other people on the roads, for they will carry the sickness. Keep close to the river as it will help you to find your way. Gather what you may from the countryside, but don’t eat strange berries or mushrooms and don’t eat any dead animal you find. Only fresh meat is good. God keep ye safe, ye poor creatures. I’ll be thinking of ye and will keep an eye out for your mother.’

Having said her piece, the old lady got up and pulled off the top two layers of her clothes and got into bed beside the sleeping Peggy. Eily and Michael were so exhausted and tired they lay down to sleep on the ground.

The dawn was just breaking when they got ready to take their leave of Mary Kate. A drink of goat’s milk and some stale soda bread was their breakfast. Two large tears ran down the old lady’s cheeks, creating a pale streak in the brown face. They all knew it was unlikely they would ever meet again.

‘God spare ye,’ prayed Mary Kate, and waved as they walked through the long dew-soaked grass and headed down towards the flash of blue in the distance through the trees. For there lay the river.

CHAPTER 6

Follow the River

IT WAS STILL COOL
in the early morning as they walked through the damp grass. Later on, the day promised to be a scorcher. They could almost pretend they were off on an adventure for a few hours. One or two startled rats ran across their path. They made their way carefully through a field of oats. Tall thin bright red poppies grew there and waved at them. Peggy could not resist the temptation and began to pull them, but within a few minutes they hung limply from her hands and the soft red petals clung damply together. It was best to leave them swaying gently in the slight breeze.

It took them about an hour to reach the river.
They sat on the rocks and dangled their feet in the cold clear water that rushed over the stones and sand. They followed its course for the next two hours, but the ground was getting heavier and soggier and their feet kept getting stuck in the oozing mud. The field all around them was damp and they kept sinking in the clinging soil. Across the river the grass seemed drier and they could see no signs of the rough holes filled with stagnant water that they kept trying to avoid.

‘We must cross the river,’ urged Michael. ‘Otherwise we might get stuck and have to take to high ground.’ His voice was serious and he kept his eyes peeled until at last he considered he’d found an easy spot.

The river narrowed and large lichen-covered rocks made a pathway in the middle of the rushing water.

‘I’ll go across first, girls, to show you the way,’ Michael teased, ‘and then I’ll come back for Peggy.’ He waded out to the first rock. It was uneven, and wobbled dangerously. He hopped to the next, which was long and narrow, and then two little ones, then a high step up on to a jagged piece of granite. From there it was easy to jump neatly from one to the other until you reached the sand and gravel on the other side. Michael bowed with
bravado at them. ‘Now, isn’t that easy? Peggy, I’ll come back for you.’

Peggy waded out a bit and then followed Michael’s directions. When the big rock wobbled she was sure she would fall in, but Michael stretched out his arm to steady her. All was going well until they reached the jagged rock. Michael had to go ahead of her and help pull her on to it. As he leaned towards her he suddenly realised that he had gashed his shin and that the blood was dripping into the crystal clear water. Eily had come after them and was only two stones behind. A few seconds later they were safe at the water’s edge.

‘Michael, you’ve cut yourself,’ said Eily. ‘Will I get Mary Kate’s stuff?’

He shrugged. ‘I’ll just wash it, it’s only a nick. Don’t be fussing – you’re nearly as bad as Mother.’

They began to walk again. Under their breath they hummed a tune of Father’s. Peggy kept stopping to pick up stones and flowers and old bird feathers, but when no-one would help her carry them she had no choice but to drop them along the way. They walked for a few hours. The sun was high and directly over their heads. The sweat ran down their foreheads and the back of their necks.

‘I want to stop, I’ll not go another foot,’ insisted Peggy. Her cheeks were hot and flushed and she
looked dead tired.

They all flopped down to rest. Mary Kate had given them a canful of Nanny’s milk. They all had a few sups of it. With this heat, in another few hours it would be undrinkable. There was some cold meal mix. That was enough, they would save the rest for later. They rinsed out the can in the river and filled it with water, then they lay back in the sunshine like a crowd of kittens. They were so tired they did not even have the energy to talk. Eily did not know how it happened, but they must all have dozed off, for when she woke up the sun was lower in the sky and the heavy heat was gone from it. She thumped the others to wake-up and get on their way as they should aim to walk another few miles before dusk.

Later they found a safe dry place still within sight of the river, and spread the blankets on the soft bracken. A bit more to eat, then they cuddled up close and watched the night sky creep in. They were fast asleep before the stars appeared.

The next three days continued in much the same way. Eily was only too conscious that the food bag was getting lighter and lighter. Michael’s ‘little nick’ had not healed up. Yellow pus was beginning to appear under the scab and light pink streaks ran
from it up towards his knee. They had all slowed down, but Eily suspected that Michael might even be in pain. The night before, despite all his giving out, she had put a dollop of Mary Kate’s ointment on the skin, hoping they hadn’t left it too late.

On that fourth day the air was hot and heavy, but there was no sign of the sun. It was exhausting to walk in such weather as you felt there was not enough air to fill your lungs.