Pack Up Your Troubles. Anne Bennett

Pack Up Your Troubles - Anne  Bennett


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      ‘Your hot-headedness,’ Father O’Brien said.

      ‘My hot-headedness, Father, is because you want me to return to a brutal bully and I won’t. You don’t seem to have listened to a word I’ve said as to why I won’t go back to him.’

      ‘I have listened, Maeve,’ Father O’Brien chided. ‘I have also said your husband is so upset by your flight over here he has promised to change.’

      ‘Oh yes,’ Maeve said sarcastically. ‘I bet.’

      ‘Maeve, you’re not being very helpful.’

      ‘No, Father, I’m not, am I? That will probably be another black mark against me, won’t it?’

      Father O’Brien tutted in impatience. Maeve saw he was controlling his anger with difficulty. Without another word, he drained the cup of tea Annie had handed him and got to his feet before he looked at Maeve again. ‘Is that your last word on the subject?’

      ‘It is, Father.’

      ‘Then, child, I’ll pray for you.’

      ‘Thank you. I’m probably in need of prayer.’

      ‘Don’t mock, Maeve. It doesn’t become you,’ Father O’Brien said sternly.

      ‘Who’s mocking, Father?’ Maeve asked innocently. ‘I don’t know one soul in the land who would not value prayer.’

      Again he tutted in annoyance. Annie had run before him to retrieve his coat and as he took it from her he said, ‘And what is your view on this, Annie? Are you prepared to harbour Maeve and her children, although she is a married woman?’

      Annie shrugged. ‘She’s my daughter, Father,’ she said.

      A little later they stood at the window and watched the priest stride angrily up the path.

      Annie said, ‘This won’t be the end of it, lass. It’s just the beginning.’

      ‘I know, Mammy,’ Maeve said with a sigh.

      There was talk in the village when Maeve went to enrol her children in the village school after the Easter holidays. The headmaster, Mr Monahan, expressed surprise, and Maeve admitted that there were some problems at home that she needed time alone to sort out and she thought it better the children missed as little schooling as possible. Mr Monahan was impressed with the young woman before him, softly spoken but with a decided lift to her chin. He remembered the cowed skinny children she’d arrived with and now saw them sitting each side of their mother definitely much improved even after a few short weeks.

      He wondered what the problem was at home and hoped it wasn’t serious, but taking the children into school could only benefit them even if it were for just a short time. He’d had to mention it to Father O’Brien, but he couldn’t foresee any opposition there and he smiled at the children and welcomed them to the school.

      They’d been there about ten days when Maeve received a letter from Father Trelawney. In it he expressed Brendan’s regret for the way things had turned out. Father Trelawney said he was truly sorry and he promised things would be different if she returned. Maeve passed it over to her mother to read and when Annie gave it back to her she screwed it into a ball and threw it on the fire.

      ‘You don’t think he might change?’ Annie said. ‘You’ve given him a shock, leaving him – mightn’t that bring him to his senses?’

      Maeve shook her head. ‘He was always sorry when he hit me at first,’ she said. ‘That didn’t last, though. No, Mammy. I can’t risk it. Not for me and the child I’m carrying, nor for Kevin and Grace. Do you want me to go? Are you worried that I’ve broken my marriage vows?’

      ‘All I want is for you to be happy, child,’ Annie said. ‘And I’ll abide by your decision.’

      ‘I wonder what the priest would feel if he’d seen the mess Brendan has left me in after a particularly bad beating,’ Maeve said bitterly. ‘Or caught sight of the weals on Kevin’s back. God, Mammy, I can’t go back to that.’

      ‘Calm yourself, child. Sure, no one’s forcing you to.’

      ‘Father O’Brien is having a damn good try and now the priest from St Catherine’s has joined in.’

      ‘Sure, isn’t that their job?’ Annie said placatingly. ‘Are you going to write back to the man?’

      ‘No, I’m not.’

      ‘Is that wise, pet?’ Annie said. ‘Tell him how brutal Brendan is to you. Tell your side of the story.’

      ‘It’s too late for that, Mammy,’ Maeve said resignedly. ‘He and Brendan are great friends. Sure Brendan has got in with his excuses and he’ll never believe different. I never went to him for help while I was there. Why should he believe anything I say now?’

      Annie wasn’t sure whether ignoring the letter was a wise course of action or not. But the decision had to be Maeve’s and she said nothing more on the subject.

      Just over a week later Maeve got a letter asking her to call at the school to discuss Kevin’s progress.

      ‘What have you done?’ she asked her son that evening.

      ‘Me? Nothing,’ Kevin said. ‘Why?’

      ‘The headmaster wants to see me and whatever it is, it’s about you.’

      But Kevin couldn’t enlighten her and Maeve saw no expression of guilt on his face as he said, ‘I don’t know, Mammy.’

      Despite that, Maeve was sure Kevin was lying. She was sure Mr Monahan would tell Maeve about his misbehaviour in the classroom, his pranks in the playground, or his lack of progress in his studies. As she sat in the headmaster’s stuffy little room, two days later, she was totally unprepared for what he did say.

      ‘Remove him from the Communion classes?’ she repeated. ‘But why? I know he’s not been here long, but he’d been doing the classes at St Catherine’s in Birmingham since January. He knows most of the catechism. We test him on it in the evenings.’

      The headmaster coughed nervously. He hated saying what he had to say and Maeve could see he did. She’d sensed his sympathy for her and Kevin too, but knew it would be Father O’Brien’s doing. She saw it as clearly as if he were standing before her pontificating. He’d say the sins of the fathers are visited on the children as the Good Book said, even to the third and fourth generation. He’d remind Mr Monahan where his duty lay, and that wasn’t welcoming to the Communion rails for the first time the son of a wife who’d upped and left her husband. He’d be sure Mr Monahan could explain that adequately to Maeve Hogan. That was, of course, if he wanted to keep his job.

      Mr Monahan faced Mrs Hogan and coughed nervously. ‘Mrs Hogan, it’s more to do with influence in the home. Father O’Brien thinks that Kevin might not be picking up the right example. Maybe it would be better to wait for a year or so, when his future is more settled.’

      Maeve felt her face burning with embarrassment at the same time as furious anger filled her being. She stared at the middle-aged man before her and knew he was just Father O’Brien’s lackey. ‘Do I have a choice in this?’ she asked in clipped precise tones. ‘Or has Father O’Brien already decided and his decision is final?’

      ‘I . . . I could ask him for you,’ the headmaster said.

      ‘Don’t worry,’ Maeve said. ‘I’ll ask him myself.’

      She swung out of the headmaster’s office, her blue eyes smouldering and her cheeks red, and out into the church, where she found Father O’Brien in one of the pews reading his Office – the prayer book priests had to read every day. Even in her rage, she noted thankfully that the church was deserted. Early Mass was over, and no one was doing the flowers for the altar, or cleaning the place. The priest turned at her arrival and laid the book down in the pew beside him, and Maeve glared at him across the expanse of the church


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