‘Did she tell you what happened?’
‘Yes. Well, a lot of it anyway. She had a very bad time of it down there. As far as I could make out, she was practically a prisoner.’
‘A prisoner?’ Elizabeth was alarmed. She thought she knew all the secrets. ‘My father locked her up?’
‘No. I don’t think so. In fairness, she only ever spoke well of him. No, it was mostly the mother. What they call mental health issues these days, but back then she was just a lunatic. She sounded like a right nut job. You’d never have guessed it from meeting her though. She had me fooled. Your mother never went into detail, but she told me about you, and who your mother was.’
They had reached the corner now and were waiting to cross the road.
‘And my father?’
Rosemary looked puzzled. ‘Your father?’
Elizabeth paused, momentarily unsure of how much to reveal, but decided that full disclosure was best.
‘He’s alive. I mean, he’s still alive.’
Rosemary made no attempt to hide her surprise.
‘Well, wasn’t she a dark horse, your mother? I would have sworn she had told me everything. Did you meet him?’ She strode across the road; not even this news was going to distract her from her mission.
Elizabeth nodded. ‘Yes, but he’s in a home now. He’s more or less gone. I couldn’t get any sense out of him.’ She recalled his dark eyes looking into hers and calling out the name of her mother.
‘I wonder why Patricia would have kept that a secret from me?’
‘So, you were friends when she came back?’
Rosemary hesitated. ‘Yes.’ She sounded doubtful. ‘For a while anyway.’
‘What happened?’
The old woman stopped walking and looked Elizabeth in the eyes.
‘Sorry,’ Elizabeth said. ‘You don’t have to tell me.’
‘No. No, it was you, actually.’
‘Me?’
‘I’m not proud of how I behaved back then. I was young. That’s my excuse.’ Rosemary gave a sad smile and continued down the footpath. ‘When your mother came back, things weren’t easy for her. She was changed. Much weaker and very shaken by what happened to her, it was tough. Your Uncle Jerry had tried to sell Convent Hill, and then of course everyone wanted to know about the new baby and what had happened. People were shameless, they’d just knock on the door and ask to have a look at you. Well, it didn’t take long. Soon the story was everywhere.’
‘Story?’
‘The one I told you. That she must have been pregnant when she left Buncarragh. Fair dues to your mother, she never changed her version of events. Your father had died and she had returned home with you. Even the priest tried to get involved. I remember he was up sniffing around asking questions. He offered to say a mass for your dead father. He was very put out when she refused. You probably don’t remember but you never went to mass when you were little.’
‘Didn’t I?’ Elizabeth had assumed she had always been dragged up to the chapel.
‘No. Not till Father Lawlor died. It took a long time, but slowly the whiff of scandal moved on. Other, more shocking things went on, and your mother made sure she was never a repeat offender.’ She turned the corner by the post office and started up the small hill that led to the library. ‘It can’t have been easy, but she managed to get her reputation back.’
‘But why did you fall out?’
‘I’m ashamed to admit it, but I think I was jealous. You were her everything. I was too young to understand that you were all she needed. She fussed over you, she talked about nothing else, it was all about the baby Elizabeth. Anyway, one day I snapped. Please don’t judge me too harshly, but I’d had enough and I just reminded her in no uncertain terms that you weren’t hers. You were someone else’s baby. Looking back, I suppose I was trying to hurt her and I must have, because we never spoke again. Not a word.’
Elizabeth wasn’t sure how to respond.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said quietly.
‘I have very few regrets in my life, but that is one of them.’
They had reached the front of the library.
Elizabeth reached out and took Rosemary’s hand.
‘Thank you.’
‘No need. No need. Safe travels.’ She raised her bag of books in farewell and strode into the library as if she was keeping the whole town waiting.
THEN
She had been ringing the bell for what seemed like hours. Why did nobody come? She knew that Edward would have finished the milking by this time, so he and his mother should both be downstairs. She was desperate for the toilet and Elizabeth had begun to whinge and cry. Patricia was about to ring again when she heard the sound of heavy footsteps on the stairs. Her door opened. It was Edward.