Page 127 of The Missing Sister

The week after baby Patrick had arrived felt like the longest of Merry’s whole life. At least she and Katie had been sent back to school, because Nora had announced it was time for her to leave the convent school in Clonakilty. With Mammy sick, Ellen, John and Daddy needed help around the place. Besides, Nora said, what did she need with letters and numbers?

When Merry was home, it felt like the new babe cried all the time, and Ellen and Nora were only ever complaining about all the work they had to do, while Daddy grumbled that he’d hardly had any sleep due to the baby screaming. Daddy had taken to sleeping in the New Room, because he said it was quieter downstairs. The New Room was just off the kitchen and the children were never allowed in it, because it was ‘for best’. It had a big fire and two armchairs for Mammy and Daddy, where he now slept while still sitting upright.

Nora handed Bill over to Merry and Katie the moment they walked through the door. He was by now moving quite fast on his chubby little legs, and the two of them spent their lives chasing after him, indoors and out.

Merry went up to see Mammy every day when she got home. She’d be awake and ask her about what she had learnt, while she nursed little Pat, who seemed to have got the hang of feeding now. She told Mammy about the new reading book she was on, and how Miss Lucey was teaching them something called geography, which was all about other countries in the world. Then she went downstairs to start her homework at the kitchen table.

One misty evening, Katie was sitting on the floor, throwing a ball to Bill.

‘I swear, I’ll never have babies. Ever,’ Katie said yet again as Bill went after the ball, then fell over, bumping his head on a table leg and starting to yowl.

‘But that’s what God wants us to do, Katie. Father O’Brien said so. If no one had babies, then there would be no people on earth, would there? Anyway, Mammy says she’s feeling much better and ’tis the last day Ellen is in charge,’ Merry added, trying to cheer Katie up.

‘Bridget O’Mahoney has a maid at home,’ Katie said, as she gathered Bill in her small arms to comfort him. ‘I’ll have one too when I’m older.’

There was an unexpected knock on the front door. Merry looked at Katie in surprise, as no one ever used the front door.

‘You’d better open it,’ Katie shrugged.

Merry stood up and did so. Outside in the darkness stood a thin man wearing a tall hat.

‘Hello there, I’m Dr Townsend,’ he smiled down at her. ‘And who might you be?’

‘I’m Merry O’Reilly,’ she replied politely, knowing his funny accent meant he was British.

‘That you are, dear. Father O’Brien suggested I should call. Might I see your mother, please?’

He followed Merry into the kitchen, sweeping off his fine hat, then allowed Katie to lead him upstairs to Mammy’s bedroom. He shut the door behind him.

Both Merry and Katie decided to send up a prayer to the Holy Mother that there was no bad news, because Bobby Noiro had told her that was the only time a doctor came to visit. It was a doctor who’d come to the door when his daddy had died in a fire in their barn, but that was all Bobby would say about it.

Ellen came in to start preparing the evening meal, and Nora appeared from wherever she’d been hiding to get out of doing chores.

‘Who was that man?’ she asked.

‘A doctor. I let him in,’ Merry said importantly.

A look passed between Ellen and Nora which filled Merry’s heart with fear. A silence hung over the kitchen as the four girls waited for the doctor to come down the stairs.

Eventually he did, and Nora was sent to fetch Daddy in from the cowshed. ‘May I have a word in private, Mr O’Reilly?’

Daddy led him into the New Room and the door was once again firmly shut. Fifteen minutes later, the two men reappeared in the kitchen.

‘Is everything all right, Doctor?’ asked Katie, always first with the chat.

‘Yes indeed, young miss,’ the doctor said with a reassuring smile. ‘Your mother will be very well and so will your little brother.’

Merry saw the expression on Daddy’s face and thought that he looked as if Mammy were dead and had been sent to purgatory for all eternity.

‘So now, Doctor, what’s the cost?’ Daddy asked him.

‘As ’twas only advice, I won’t be charging you. I’ll let myself out,’ he said. ‘Good evening, everyone.’

With a touch of his hat, he was gone.

‘’Tis wonderful news Mammy’s well, isn’t it, Daddy?’ said Merry.

‘Yes,’ he replied, but even though his mouth said the words, the expression on his face didn’t change.