Patricia was shocked. He looked awful. His face was covered in sweat and he was out of breath. His clothes were soaked from the rain and there were splatters of mud covering his trousers. A redness around his eyes made it look as if he had been crying. He was holding a coat over one arm and was a carrying a large heavy bag in the other.
‘You’ll need this,’ Edward said gravely, holding out the grey wool coat.
‘I have to go the toilet.’
‘Well, hurry!’
‘Take her for a second.’
Patricia lifted up Elizabeth and Edward dumped the bag and coat on the bed before taking her. ‘Hurry!’ he repeated.
When she came out of the bathroom Edward was waiting on the landing at the top of the stairs. ‘Put this on.’ She took the coat from him and while she put it on he went back into her room and grabbed the bag. ‘I’ve packed a few nappies and a couple of bottles. It should be enough.’ He thrust Elizabeth back into her arms, and almost ran down the stairs.
‘Where are we going?’ Patricia called after him.
‘Buncarragh,’ he said without looking back. ‘You are going home.’
Patricia couldn’t believe what she was hearing and stood rooted to the spot. ‘What?’
Edward stopped just before the kitchen door and barked at her. ‘Hurry up!’
Holding the banister with one hand and Elizabeth with the other she came down the stairs as quickly as she dared. In the kitchen the lights were on but there was no sign of dinner.
‘Where’s your mother?’
‘Never mind. Put these on.’ Edward kicked a pair of zip-up boots lined with sheepskin towards her. She recognised them. Mrs Foley often wore them.
‘What about your mother?’
‘Don’t worry about her. We must hurry. Come on!’ He was holding the back door open and the chill of the evening air was cutting through Patricia’s nightdress. She buttoned her coat, slipped her feet into the boots and followed Edward out into the yard. He was heading for the car. Throwing open the passenger door for her, he ran around and got into the driver’s seat. Patricia climbed in, hugging Elizabeth close to her chest, and shut the door, relieved to be sheltered from the cold wind. The engine started, the headlights cut a path down the lane and they moved off. Patricia’s breathing was fast and shallow. Was she really going home? Had her nightmare finally ended? Edward suddenly lunged across the car and pushed her head.
‘Keep down!’ He sounded almost hysterical, so she did as she was told. They drove in silence, bouncing across the potholed lane towards the road. They turned out of the gate and Edward sped up.
‘You’re OK now,’ he said and she sat up, kissing the baby’s head to reassure her.
‘Have you got a blanket for Elizabeth?’
He looked completely stricken. ‘No. I forgot. I wasn’t thinking. Sorry. I’m so sorry.’
Patricia was worried he might crash the car, he seemed so stressed. Trying to calm him down, she said, ‘Don’t worry, I’ll just wrap her in the coat.’ And she did.
The tunnel of light in front of them led them across the causeway and then under some trees. They were leaving Castle House behind them. Patricia half-expected Mrs Foley to jump out of a ditch in front of them and drag them all back to the house. She glanced at Edward. He was gripping the steering wheel hard and leaning forward, concentrating on every inch of the road. His breathing still seemed laboured and even in the glow of the dashboard she could see the gleam of perspiration on his brow. Elizabeth began to cry.
‘I think she might need changing.’
‘We can’t stop yet. We’ll get petrol in Bandon. You can do it there. I’m sorry.’
She wanted to ask questions but she didn’t want to distract him. He was taking her away from Muirinish and back to Buncarragh and if that meant Elizabeth had to cry all the way to Bandon, then so be it.
She had no idea what was going through Edward’s mind as they sped through the dark roads. Patricia looked at the warm lights glowing in the windows of the houses that they passed. Some were right on the road, some set back, new bungalows, cottages, large country houses. Lives being lived in each one. Dinners being put on tables, televisions being gathered around. Were they happy? Was someone sobbing behind the curtains that were leaking light out into the darkness? What would they make of this strange trio speeding through the night?
After Bandon, Elizabeth slept. At first the villages they went through had people standing outside pubs, and lights in the windows, but as the miles slipped by and the hour got later, the bars were in darkness, and the fish and chip shops had kicked out the last of their customers. The whole country seemed deserted. The telegraph poles and hedges flashed by and Elizabeth’s warm, even breathing was the only sound in the car.