Father Clayton knew that Father Monahon would see things exactly as she did, and when she complained about his attitude, as he knew she would, he would be hauled over the coals himself. That in itself wouldn’t matter if anything had been achieved by his interference, but he knew it hadn’t. He sighed. Sometimes he found it difficult to follow the Church’s teaching in blind obedience as they were taught they had to, for he often found issues were not so black and white. He couldn’t help wishing that, regardless of Stan’s religion, or lack of it, the children could be left with the grandfather they loved.
Molly had watched the altercation and knew by her grandfather’s determined strides across the room with Kevin in his arms that he was hopping mad about something and the same something was making her brother cry. She sighed as she followed them, for she didn’t have to be a genius to guess what it was all about.
On the way in, Stan had noticed a couple of chairs set against the wall in the foyer and he sat down in one of these and set about telling Kevin what was going to happen to him and Molly, and why, despite his promise to them, he would be unable to fight against it.
That is where Molly found them and her heart constricted in pity for her distressed little brother, who was weak from weeping.
He turned anguished eyes towards her and said in a voice almost broken with sadness and disbelief, ‘Molly … has our g-granddad told you wh-where we’ve got to go and – live?’
Molly nodded, and knealed down beside Kevin and held his agitated hand between hers. Her heart hammered in her chest, her mouth was very dry and she felt the familiar lump in her throat, and willed herself not to cry.
‘But … don’t want t-to live with her,’ Kevin said. ‘Sh-she’s horrible. I want to … stay with G-Granddad.’
‘So do I,’ Molly said fiercely. ‘I hate her as much as you do, but I am not afraid of her and you needn’t worry, because I will look after you, fight for you if I have to.’
Kevin looked at the sister who had always looked out for him before and said, ‘Promise?’ He didn’t know if he believed in the power of a promise any more. Hadn’t his granddad promised? But it was all he had.
Molly said without any hesitation at all, ‘I promise, Kevin. I swear it on the Bible.’
‘Ah, Molly,’ Kevin said, and he leaned towards her with a sigh and she put her arms around him. As Stan’s arms encircled both children he felt a sharp pain in his chest. So, he thought, this is what it feels like when a person’s heart is broken in two.
After the funeral was over, Biddy made her way to the presbytery and Father Monahon who had been expecting her. He listened to her proposals to take the children to Ireland and fully approved. In fact, he couldn’t see any viable alternative. In his opinion the sooner the children were removed from the clutches of their grandfather the better. Their immortal souls were at stake.
‘I’m gratified that you feel the same as I do,’ Biddy said. ‘At my time of life it is not easy to tie myself down with the worry and burden of raising children again, but I know where my duty lies. I must say, I was surprised that your curate didn’t share your view on this matter,’ she went on as Father Clayton entered the room.
Father Monahon’s cold eyes slid over to the younger priest as he asked testily, ‘Is this true?’
‘In a way,’ Father Clayton admitted. ‘Mrs Sullivan has just said she would find it difficult raising the children. Added to that, they seem so happy with Stan. They have both just lost their parents and are naturally distraught over it. I thought perhaps taking them away from everything that was familiar …’
‘You thought,’ Father Monahon mimicked mockingly. ‘That’s your trouble, you think too much. As a priest, you don’t have to think, but you do have to obey the teachings of the Church. It might be good for the children to get away from memories and get some healthy living and country air into their lungs, but that is neither here nor there. If they are upset, that is the very time when they would need the comfort and support of the one true church and a loving grandmother to bring them up correctly.’
Father Clayton knew there wasn’t a loving bone in Biddy Sullivan’s body and he knew too that wouldn’t matter a jot as far as Father Monahon was concerned. If she lashed the children mercilessly, verbally, physically or both, she would still be considered a fine woman in his superior’s book, if she saw to it that they attended Mass and the sacraments.
Father Monahon shook hands with Biddy and said, ‘I would suggest that you see the authorities as quickly as possible and set all this in motion. Rest assured, you will have my full support.’
Father Clayton said not a word. There was nothing left to say.
That night, Kevin had a horrific nightmare. As he was sharing his granddad’s bed so that a room could be given up to Biddy, Stan was quick to comfort and reassure, but long after his granddad had fallen asleep again, Kevin had lain wide-eyed, for though he ached with tiredness and his eyes smarted from lack of sleep, he was afraid of closing them.
Next morning, Kevin was listless his face was as white as a sheet, his eyes were red-rimmed. But Biddy didn’t believe in children having a lie-in. There was no time to lay about on a farm and the sooner they got to grips with that the better. Biddy had a host of jobs she wanted Molly to do and she listed these at the breakfast table. As well as the shopping and cooking, Biddy wanted her to tackle the family wash and then clean the house from top to bottom.
Molly said nothing, though she looked across the table to her grandfather and saw him purse his lips. He hated the thought of his granddaughter working so hard all day. The child was no slouch anyway and had been tremendous with her mother so ill in hospital, taking on a lot of the housework and cooking. Both he and his son had given the child a hand. And then, of course, there was always Hilda, who had showed what a true friend she was.
Biddy, however, had taken an instant dislike to Hilda and told her firmly that her help was no longer required, not that she intended to fill this gap herself. She did nothing but carp and complain and find fault with everything and everybody. Often Stan found it hard to believe that this objectionable woman was the mother of the lovely Nuala.
So though he wanted to complain about this, he knew his authority, as far as the children were concerned, was of no account, and so he said nothing. He had an appointment with the landlord that morning to tell the man of his changed circumstances. As soon as the children left with Biddy he would be returning to his own little house.
Stan was in the bedroom getting ready when Kevin sidled in. ‘Can I come with you, Granddad?’ he asked. ‘I’ll be good. I’ll wait in the corridor for you. Please don’t leave me behind.’
Stan looked at the child’s white and frightened face and wished he could take him, but he knew for his own sake he had to get used to Biddy and so he said, ‘No, it’s better if you stop here. I’ll likely not be long.’
‘Please, Granddad?’
The expression on Kevin’s face tore at Stan’s heart, but he knew he wouldn’t be part of the child’s world for much longer and so he bent to his level and said, ‘Kevin, you know what I explained to you the day of the funeral? Maybe you should try to get to know Biddy. I know the woman is not easy, but it would likely help you if you could get along together.’
‘I don’t like her, Granddad and I’m scared of her too.’
‘I know that, Kevin,’ Stan said sadly. ‘All I’m saying is perhaps you need to try a little harder and maybe she will be better if I am not around.’
Stan didn’t believe that for a minute and neither did Kevin, but there was no help for it. Once his grandfather had left, Kevin wanted to hide away in the bedroom, but Biddy found him there, hauled him out and set him to cleaning the family’s shoes.
For some time the only sound in the house was Biddy’s nagging voice. Kevin envied Molly escaping it when she