Cassie Leaves Thomas

Cassie leaves Thomas

es Thomas.image credit internet

Willy knew from the way Katie was rattling the iron poker between the bars of the grate that something was very wrong. “What is it,” he said irritably.

It had been a long day since this morning when Cassie got married too early for the crows in the trees around the chapel to stir out of their nests. Then, he had to listen to that gang of gulpins working on the railway line between Ballindrait and Raphoe making sure there were no branches on the line, spend their day telling lies and braggin’ about their women and the first night they were married.

“Are ye goin’ to tell me or not,” he demanded, tossing his flat cap in the direction of the settle. He sank down wearily and began to pull off his mud caked wellington boots. The boots  made a sucking sound as if they were reluctant relinquished their hold on his aching feet.

“Go up the room and you’ll see for yerself,” his wife said giving the turf fire an extra jab with the poker. The sparks flew up the open chimney as if trying to get out of her way.

Walking on his sock soles William turned the corner beside the fire brace and reached out to turn the handle on the bedroom door and then stopped. The hair began to climb up on the back of his neck. His skin prickled. There was a dead silence on the other side of the door.

Why were Mary Margaret and Eliza not cackling and shrieking like they did every night about the big eejit that took the creamery cans on the back of the tractor to Castlefin Creamery. He let his hand drop and turned back to face his wife.” Why are them two mad daughters of yours not screeching and roaring like they do every other night of the week?”

Kate kept her stiff silence and busied herself pulling the black pot full of potatoes off the peat fire

Willian returned to the bedroom door and leaned his ear against the jamb. He had taken to cocking his ear at a part of the worn door where a knot of wood had fallen out leaving a wee round hole he could press his ear against.

Kate said like she always did. “Stop that! Them that listen hear nothin’ good about themselves.”

“It’s the only way ah can know what them two get up tae.”

Kate glowered at him. “Why don’t you ask them?”

“Ask them? Them two? Couldn’t believe a word comes out of their mouths. Even the priest doesn’t believe a word they say. He warned me not to be wastin’ his time, parading them in front of him again.”

He went back to pressing his ear closer to the rough wood. All the bad things that happen to scatty brained girls slid into his mind. His heart lurched into his throat; Eliza had nearly got caught in a big bit of machinery when she’d been swanning about showing off her figure at the shirt factory. Could it be something like that?

“Tell me Katie,” he pleaded. “Is it bad?” The only response she made was to plank his dinner on the table with a resounding thump.

“It’s Eliza isn’t it? She’s lost an arm or leg at the factory,” he said, the cold sweat breaking on him.

The only response Kate made was to say,” Go up the room and see for yerself.”

Then, he thought about poor Bertie. Had he been so busy smiling and making gander eyes at Mary Margaret that he’d lost control of the tractor and went over the ditch and was kilt!

He turned back and pushed the bedroom door. Weighted down with the mountain of old coats on its back the hinges creaked as it opened.

For a minute he could see nothing different; Eliza and Mary Margaret were sitting, silently looking across at Cassie curled up on her bed. Relief wash over him, Thank God his girls were alright. Then, his eyes swivelled back to Cassie. Cassie! “Jesus, Mary and Sweet Saint Joseph .What are ye doin’ in that bed!”

“She’s left Thomas,” Eliza said in a shocked voice.

“Jimmy Callachan brought her back,” Mary Margaret said with a toss of her head.” He smiled at me.”

“He did not. You asked him was the dance in the barn still goin’ to be on to celebrate the weddin’ and would he keep you a dance.”

The noise of their argument followed Willy back into the kitchen.

“She’s left him,” he incredulously to Kate!” And you let her in!” he shouted banging the table beside his cooling spuds and buttermilk.

“Eat your dinner.”

“Gormley’s still sendin’ up the buttermilk,” he asked, in a stuper from the shock, sitting down.

Kate nodded “Aye. Mrs Gormley sent up what she always gave to Cassie when she worked there. But not for much longer when she hears she’s left her man.”

She turned anger filled eyes on Willy. “She had to get marryin’ him. And you couldn’t see your way to refuse her, could you. I told you she was too young and innocent to be wi’ a man yet.” she muttered pulled the black iron kettle back on to the hook over the glowing peat.

For a while all that was heard in the kitchen was Willy scraping the plate and the hissing and spitting of the kettle.

Then, William’s fork clattered on the table. “Don’t you point yer finger at me, woman. You’d been happy enough to let her marry if it was, his cousin Jimmy Callachan she was marryin’. Maybe you’ll get a Callachan yet by the forward talk of yer daughter Mary Margaret. You never liked young Cannon, anyway.”

Kate picked up the poker and drew it across the bars of the fire. Still clutching it in her fist he turned back to Willy.Then her rage left her.

” Ned told me the day that Cassie’s man found his birth lines. His mother, Bella and his father Thomas married in Murlog. The father died before Cassie’s man was born,” she admitted, slumping into the chair beside the fire.

“What will me brothers say when they hear this,” she moaned, clutching the tail of her apron and rolling it into two balls in her fists. She knew what they’d say. They’d say she should have listened to her mother and father and not married William. Marry in haste repent in leisure That’s what they’d say.

Willy drew up the hard wooden chair across from her. “Why did she leave him,” he asked his own mind going back to the crude stories the men had shouted to each other as they worked along the railway line. He wished now with all his heart he had followed his fatherly instincts and had a word with Thomas before he had handed wee Cassie over to him this morning.

Kate sighed. “I could get no sense out of her; somethin’ to do about the room in Callachan’s house an oud bed wi’ a hollow in the middle, broken stuff and a cradle in the corner.”

Of a sudden Kate rose to her feet. “Put your boots on. Ned will know what to do. Cassie listens to him. “She spend more time wi’ him than she does us,” she murmured under her breath.

“What would yer brother Ned know?” Willy said exasperated. “He never married – never had any wains of his own.”

“Maybe when he hears he might give them a bed – at least for the night their weddin’ night,” Katie said making for the door. “Before the wagging tongues get together at the chapel gates on Sunday and Father O Neill gets to hear about it.”

Walking the four miles to the village of Ballindrait without even realised he’d covered it, coming into Mill Street Willy stopped in his step. “What’ll we do if Ned’s not in or he’s in the pub?”

Kate kept walking and then stopped outside the half door of Cather’s Public House.

“Kate, you’re nivir goin’ in there,” William said horrified.

“I’m only goin’ to the door to ask if Ned’s in there. You go, then,” his wife stated.

William stepped into the gloom of the kitchen of the house that held a licence for selling drink. It took him a minute for his eyes to adjust to the smokey darkness. “Ned in the night,” he enquired of the form of a man behind the bar. Before the barman got a chance to answer the figure of an old woman separated herself from the corner brace of the fireplace where a glimmer of a fire no brighter than a candle was showing. William startled. “Ah didn’t see ye there, Mrs Cathers,” he said, taking off his flat cap.

“Sure it’s no wonder, she’s as black as the oul chimney,” a man close to Willy sniggered. William had to admit the drunken man was right. The woman was covered from the top of her head to her boots in black clothes.

“’Tis too early for Ned the shoemaker yet,” she said. “There again, maybe he’s away up to Callachan’s barn. I hear there’s a bit of a dance – a hulie – on there the night.” Her eyes grew interested. “Was it not your young daughter who married at early Mass in Murlog this mornin’,” she asked.

Willy felt rather than saw the few men gathered around the bar begin to listen to the conversation. Without comment he turned for the door the heels of his boots sparking off the stone flag floor.

Mrs Cathers followed him to the door. “I hear the newlyweds got a lift back to the farm with the good priest and he sat down to a fine weddin’ breakfast with the widow Callachen.” She called after him. Willy couldn’t hide his surprise.

The old woman adjusted her black shawl over her head and across her breast. “Will you not come in to the fire,” she said seeing Katie waiting for her husband. Willy hurried his wife away.

As he passed Gallagher’s forge he wondered how much more the oul woman had seen or heard. When they reach Ned’s house no light was showing in the window. “C’mon, he ordered his wife.

Passing Birdstown lane Willy took the back road for Tober. “Our Cassie will sleep in her weddin’ bed with her husband the night. Lumps or hollow in the bed or not,” he said decisively. “Should ah have to walk her all the way to the Callachan’s farm me self.”

“Get yerselves and Cassie dressed. Youse are goin’to a dance in Callachan’s barn,” Willy ordered Mary Margaret and Eliza, tearing back into the house and up to the room.

They’d need to be quick on their feet. It doesn’t take long for bad news an gossip to spread, he thought.

Gemma Hill 2021