A Daughter’s Secret. Anne Bennett
Aggie and the house laid low with measles, McAllister wasn’t that keen on visiting. When everyone was better, Tom had declared that he didn’t want to continue with the music lessons. Thomas John, weakened by the measles, was quite glad of this at the time and Joe gave up too, but then he had never been as keen, or as good at it as Tom.
Tom was just glad that the man had no occasion to come to the house any more. He couldn’t have borne it. But others, being unaware of what McAllister was capable of, treated him as they always had. Tom imagined him being fêted and praised at the O’Leary house, for the O’Learys, like most people in the town, thought McAllister a grand chap.
No really knowing why, Tom descended to the lane and walked the route McAllister had taken, with no plan in his head until he came to trees on either side of the road followed almost immediately by a left-hand fork. An idea began to take shape. If he were to stretch a rope of some sort between the trees, McAllister wouldn’t see it until he was virtually on top of it and neither would the horse. Tom felt that he would have struck a blow for Aggie if he were to injure the man in some way. He tore home as fast as he could, to find a suitable line.
Philomena watched him go and wondered what had sent him home in such haste. She hadn’t long to find out, for the Sullivans’ place was no distance across the fields. Though Tom proceeded stealthily, once he got near the farm all was quiet. He knew the bale of metal twine they used for mending fences was in the barn and he chopped a sizeable bit from the bale with the axe before heading back.
Philomena saw immediately what Tom was about and went down to stop him. She reached him as he was tying the last knot to the second tree. He was startled and frightened when he saw Philomena but she set out to reassure him.
‘Don’t worry, Tom. I know what you are trying to do and why, and though I understand, this isn’t the way.’
‘You don’t know what he has done.’
‘I can have a good guess,’ Philomena said. ‘Is this something to do with your sister’s disappearance?’
Tom stared at her, his mouth agape, more unnerved than ever. Then in a horrified voice, little more than a whisper, he said, ‘How did you know?’
‘I didn’t,’ Philomena said. ‘That is, well, I knew he had a fancy for her, but I didn’t think, never dreamed … Tom, is she expecting his baby?’
Tom nodded miserably, knowing there was no longer any need to deny it, to Philomena at least.
‘And do you know where she has gone?’
‘To Birmingham, to his sister.’
‘Where she will get rid of it?’
‘That was the plan,’ Tom said. ‘None of this was Aggie’s fault, you know. He had her filled full of poteen. She could barely stand when she came home. God knows how she had got so far. She was in a state and he had the dress near ripped from her back.’
‘Was that the night your mother was helping out at Sadie Lannigan’s?’ Philomena asked.
‘Aye, and my father was in Buncrana,’ Tom said. ‘You may be sure that this would have come out long ago if either or both of them had been in. It’s a wonder he didn’t think of that.’
‘He thinks of nothing but satisfying his desires when he is that way inclined, if you know what I mean,’ Philomena commented glumly. ‘I know that to my own cost. He never thinks of the consequences of his actions.’
‘Aggie would have done all in her power to keep what happened that night a secret, anyway,’ Tom said, ‘if she could have. I mean, if she hadn’t been expecting.’
‘Aye,’ Philomena agreed with a grim smile, ‘pregnancy is one thing that no one can hide for long.’
‘He told her he would say she came on to him, offering it on a plate, as it were. Aggie thought everyone, even possibly our own parents, would believe him over her.’
‘Poor girl,’ Philomena said with feeling. ‘And the devil of it is she is right. The man is usually believed first in any case, and Bernie can be charming when he wants. I mean, I fell for his charm and I am not a stupid woman. He has this ability to make people think he’s just such a grand man altogether.’
‘I know,’ Tom said. ‘And it’s all bloody false. You should see how he went on to my father this morning.’
‘I did, and I saw your reaction. Then I knew my earlier misgivings were right,’ Philomena said. ‘And that is why I followed you and came to try and stop you.’
‘Why?’ Tom demanded. ‘He is worth nothing.’
‘You’re right,’ Philomena said, ‘and I tell you now that he if was on fire in the gutter I wouldn’t spit on him. I do agree that he needs teaching a lesson, but not by you. I don’t want you getting into trouble.’
‘I won’t unless I’m caught. Or you tell on me.’
‘Haven’t you listened to a word I’ve said?’ Philomena replied. ‘I would never tell on you. I hate the man and wish to God he was not the father of my children and that I was not married to him for the rest of my life, but I am and that’s that. But honest to God, Tom, haven’t your family suffered enough?’
‘Aye, but—’
‘Think,’ Philomena reasoned. ‘If it is found that you did this in a bid to hurt my husband, questions will be asked and then you risk exposing your sister. He will delight in dragging her name and that of your whole family through the mud. I know just how vindictive he can be and I know he would see to it that you would never be able to lift your heads up again.’
Tom realised that he hadn’t thought the whole thing through enough. He was starting to untie the first knot when he heard the drumming of horse’s hoofs approaching fast up the lane.
‘Come on,’ said Philomena. ‘We’ll just have to hope for the best. I pray to God it is Bernie galloping this way and not some other poor innocent soul going about their lawful business.’
Oh Almighty Christ, thought Tom. That was another thing he hadn’t considered. He allowed Philomena to draw him into the shelter of the trees and his sigh of relief was audible when it was McAllister who came into view seconds later.
The overcast skies had turned the afternoon to dusk and it had begun to rain. Visibility was bad and McAllister was riding far too fast. He had his head down as he careered round the corner, thumping his legs into the horse’s sides to make him go faster still. The horse ran into the wire at speed. It hit it above the knees and with a scream it stopped dead and dropped to the floor. McAllister didn’t have a chance to save himself. He sailed through the air over the horse’s head and landed heavily. Both woman and boy heard the thud as he hit his head on the knoll of a tree and then lay still.
Tom’s heart was in his mouth. He had no intention of seriously injuring McAllister. He would have run to see if the man was all right, but Philomena forestalled him.
‘Leave him to me,’ she said. ‘Untie the rope and hide it. It wouldn’t do for anyone to think this is anything other than an accident.’
Before Philomena went to her husband, though, she caught the horse, who had struggled to its feet, and examined its bruised and battered knees.
‘Poor feller,’ she said. ‘I’ll see to those when I get you home,’ and she tied the horse loosely to a tree before turning to her husband. There was no need to rush, because she knew by the strange angle of his neck that the man was dead.
She knew she was wicked but all she could feel at that moment was relief – relief and thankfulness. Oh, she’d play the part of the grieving widow, all right, for the benefit of the townsfolk, and pray for the repose of her husband’s blackened soul, for if anyone needed prayers he did. But she was free of him and she could have danced a jig.
However, paramount in her mind at that time was protecting the young boy from the consequences of