A Son of Aran Page 4

  With Eileen at school, Saureen was free to resume work at Rhona’s for a few hours every day. By arrangement she chose to serve in the early part of the day or late in the evening depending on when the café was busiest. She renewed acquaintance with clients who patronised the restaurant—boat crews, dockers, and travellers who regularly used the ferry. Some nights she 7didn’t come home, saying it wasn’t worth while as she had to be there for work early next morning. Peadar looked after Eileen on those occasions and helped her with her homework. He wondered what Saureen did during the midday period—she didn’t seem to spend very much time at home in Sickeen. He knew she retained possession of the house in Long Walk; maybe she spent time there on her role of noting the activities of vessels in the bay although, since the outbreak of war, the number of foreign ships calling at Galway had diminished considerably! One day he was called to Eileen’s school when she didn’t feel well and had to be taken home. He didn’t want to absent himself from work for a whole afternoon to look after her—he decided instead to look for Saureen at Long Walk. Lifting the latch quietly he entered the hallway and was surprised to hear voices coming from the inner room. A man spoke in an authoritative tone: ‘No, my dear, I can’t let this go on any longer; we must come to an arrangement. My next turn in port is likely to be the last for some time. I want you both to come away with me. The girl is at a stage to learn a new language. I will arrange a tutor for her in Spain, while you get to know my house servants and take over the running of the estate. You will like it there, the weather is warm, and flowers in bloom are something out of this world. Soon I will give up seafaring and settle down to domestic life. For too long my house has been empty. I want to raise children and bring some life into it.’

  ‘But what about Eileen?’ the woman answered. ‘She and Peadar are inseparable; she won’t want to be part of this. And what of Peadar? I can’ t just walk away from him like that. He stood by me through thick and thin. I feel sure he has suspected me all along, but he didn’t cheat on me. He has such plans for our life together; I can’t hurt him like this; I can’t break up our marriage.’

  ‘My good woman, you have no choice. You should have thought about those things before events took this turn. Eileen is our daughter, we both know that. I have first claim on her. I insist that you do as I say. The Sansander is due in port again in three weeks. I want you to be ready to leave with me as soon as the cargo is discharged. You will need some cash to prepare for the voyage. Here, take this bag—it contains five hundred pounds. A similar amount in Spanish currency will await you when we reach our destination.’

  Peadar couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Reeling from shock, he thought to himself, ‘they are planning to take Eileen away! I’ll see to it that they don’t get away with that.’ He slipped quietly out the door and went to collect Eileen from school.

  ‘I’ll take her home and look after her myself until she gets better. I’ll hold on to her even if I have to spill blood in doing so.’ He said nothing to Saureen. The following week he went to Aran where he spoke with Máirtín.

  ‘I need the hooker for a while,’ he told him. ‘I’d like to have it beside me in Galway. I’m dying to go to sea again before I lose touch; maybe I’ll do a bit of fishing with the Claddagh men in my spare time. In the meantime you can take the cattle and whatever crops are ready and count them as your own. If I don’t come back you can have the cottage too and all that goes with it.’

  Máirtín wondered what was going on but he refrained from asking. On a calm sea Peadar sailed the boat back to Galway and berthed it in the Claddagh basin. He went back to work as if nothing untoward was intended.

  The Sansander arrived in port on schedule. Peadar was there once again with his workmates to help with unloading. He kept an eye on the comings and goings of the captain whose frequent trips uptown continued; these appeared to occur regularly each afternoon. During the intervening weeks, Peadar had secretly prepared the hooker for sailing and had stowed supplies to last a few days in case circumstances demanded. Having discharged its cargo of fertilisers, the ship was scheduled to depart the same night on the late tide. Crew members, duly notified, spent their last hours on shore socialising with their acquaintances and lady friends, which resulted in some late arrivals on board. The captain rounded on them, proclaiming angrily that their next shore leave would be curtailed by way of compensation.

  ‘I never saw him so irate,’ the mate remarked, ‘something is irking him. I’ll bet things haven’t gone right for him this turn.’

  He had been meeting with Saureen that afternoon to finalise their arrangements.

  ‘I want you and the girl to come on board at six o’clock, immediately before the gang plank is raised. We will depart right away. I don’t want any complications.’

  Saureen did not dissent.

  ‘Eileen, how would you like to come with me to Aran ?’ asked Peadar. ‘I am leaving this afternoon on the hooker. Your mother is taken up with other business and cannot come with us.’

  ‘Oh, Daddy, I’d love that,’ she answered, ‘but what about school—won’t we need to tell the teacher that I am going to be absent.’

  ‘Don’t worry about the teacher. Bring your school bag and books. We’ll get in a bit of reading while we are away. I want you to take all your warmest clothes—the sea gets cold at night. Don’t forget to wear the knitted woollen cap that covers your ears. I can’t have you getting cold.’

  ‘Daddy, this is great. I always wanted to go to Aran with you—just the two of us. I’ll set the fire in the cottage and do the cooking while you catch fish. And I’ll come with you on the boat when you go after the herrings.’

  ‘Right then, that’s settled. Don’t say a word to anybody; put your things into this bag and we’ll go down to the boat. I’ll buy some food on the way.’

  As evening closed in, the hooker edged slowly out of the Claddagh basin and headed for the open sea.

  Promptly at six, Saureen walked up the gangway and went straight to the captain’s cabin. He greeted her lovingly, throwing his arms around her neck, and smothering her with kisses.

  ‘Good work,’ he exclaimed, ‘now we can be together without interruption. Two days from now we’ll arrive at my villa near Salamanca where I’ll show you the apple groves and the olives. A little cognac to celebrate!’ Emptying his glass in one gulp he asked,

  ‘The girl—did you put her in her cabin?’

  ‘Carlos dear, I have something to tell you,’ Saureen answered. ‘When I went to collect her at our home in Sickeen, she wasn’t there. I can’t for the life of me know where she has gone. It’s most unlike her not to be at home at this time of the evening. Her books are not there either, which leads me to think she may not have returned from school. I’ll go back again and see if I can find her. Can you delay the ship’s departure for an hour while I go and search.’

  ‘All right,’ he said, ‘one hour, but remember not a minute longer.

  ’ The captain informed the crew of a delay in departure. Saureen disembarked. At the end of an hour she returned.

  ‘I didn’t find her,’ she announced, ‘but I found this note on the table.’

  Saureen, deceitful woman, unfaithful wife,

  I never thought I’d be writing these words. At last I have proof of your infidelity. I know of your plans to leave me and to take Eileen with you. By the time you read this note, she and I will be far away. Don’t try to find us. I never want to see you again. Your seducer can have you but he cannot have Eileen—I will see to that. If you had been honest with me at the time of Eileen’s birth, I would have forgiven you for being pregnant before we married. I loved you enough to accept your predicament, and I would have married you just the same. You deceived me then, you lied to me repeatedly ever since, and now you have plotted to deceive me once again. That I cannot forgive.

  Peadar

  On hearing the outcome the captain flew into a vile rage. Crew members jumped to their tasks as his screaming was hea
rd all over the ship. People on the dockside stood still to listen: ‘Stop, stop, I have heard enough. I see now how you and your husband have conspired to trick me. It is not you I want but our daughter. If I need a concubine I can find a dozen of your type in any port of call. I want my natural offspring who will bear children of my family line and make me a proud grandfather in my old age. Get off this ship. Go back to your brothel and find another sucker to bleed.’

  ‘Please, Carlos, take me with you.’ Saureen pleaded. ‘I haven’t tried to deceive you. I have no husband now. I love you and you have told me that you love me too. I will make up to you for your loss. I will give you other children. I can have no life in this town after what we have done, please don’t leave me behind.’

  ‘Put this woman ashore and take the ship out of harbour,’ the captain shouted angrily to the mate.

  Crying bitterly, with all eyes centred on her, Saureen disembarked. The gangplank was raised, the Sansander pulled away from the wharf. Weeping uncontrollably, she watched the ship as it headed for the open sea. There was no last minute gesture from the bridge where Carlos stood defiantly erect and stone-faced. In a mixture of shock and deep despair she turned to the nearest tavern to get a stiff drink and collect her thoughts.

  ‘What am I going to do now that my life has been torn asunder on all fronts? News of being deserted by both my husband and my lover has already spread like wild fire. I can no longer face those who previously hosted me. I will be an outcast in my native town. Where is Peadar now? Has he left Galway? If so, where can he and Eileen have gone?’

  She had many questions but no answers. Knowing Peadar’s affection for Aran, she reckoned he might go there. But had he not said in his note to her that he didn’t want to see her ever again? He would sense that she might seek him there. She decided to ask around and find out if anybody knew of his movements over the previous twenty-four hours. At the factory, his fellow workers told her that Peadar had not turned up for work that day. Some fishermen in the Claddagh said he had a hooker berthed in the basin in past weeks. It was there yesterday but today it was gone.

  ‘A clue,’ she thought, ‘Peadar has departed by sea! But how can he sail a hooker alone allowing for the handicap of a young girl who demands his attention? Perhaps he has an accomplice—Máirtín, or some of his fishermen friends? There is only one way to find out. I must go to Aran by the first available transport.’

  The Dun Aengus ferry was due to depart next morning from Galway but that was the longer route. She could take the shorter journey from Rosaveel on a boat that left in the evening. She would travel by road to Rosaveel and go from there. Having consumed several rounds of vodka she went back to Sickeen to sleep it off. Despite her intoxication, she was awakened in the middle of the night by a howling wind that rattled the windows and put buckets and barrels flying all around outside.

  ‘A storm at sea! What if Peadar and Eileen are out there, buffeted by wind and waves? What chance would a hooker have in this weather? I must get to the island as speedily as possible and be there to lend a helping hand if they are in trouble. Peadar didn’t really mean it when he said he never wanted to see me again. I’ll get him to forgive me.’

  She threw some clothes into a bag and hastened down town in time to catch the afternoon bus to Rosaveel.

  She took up residence in Peadar’s cottage and lay in his bed. Tormented by guilt and sorrow for her own plight, she couldn’t sleep. Listening to the sound of waves breaking on the rocky shore, she imagined the worst.

  ‘Have Peadar and Eileen made land on one of the islands? Has the hooker gone down in the storm? Have they been washed into some of the sea caves around the coast?’ Nothing was to be gained from lying in bed—she must go out and search for them.’

  At earliest light she walked the shore at low water, examining every accumulation of debris left behind by the outgoing tide. She scanned the horizon in the hope of seeing the hooker approach. She searched every nook and cranny along the cliff face and peered into every opening. She found no evidence that might throw light on what had become of the missing ones. Overcome by fatigue and hunger, she pursued her search until the incoming tide made further investigation impossible. Returning to the cottage to rest, she resolved that with the light of the moon she would search again.

  ‘There can be no let up,’ she said to herself, ‘somewhere out there my nearest and dearest are in trouble. I will find them or die. I cannot go on living without them.’

  In an eerie stillness, she stood at midnight on the deserted beach, listening to the surge of waves rolling towards the shore. Backed by a rising westerly wind, the tide rose to full. She shuddered: ‘Was that a human head that surfaced momentarily out at sea, only to disappear again in a matter of seconds?’ Closer observation revealed it was a seal but the initial shock stayed with her. Among the flotsam and jetsam washed ashore was a collection of bottles, cans, sacking, and torn garments. None of these bore any resemblance to clothes worn by Peadar or Eileen. She waded knee-deep into the tide to grab a floating spar of timber—it didn’t match any part of a hooker. The absence of evidence of a tragedy at sea consoled her. Nevertheless she continued to search with even greater intensity.

  The west wind brought a drizzling rain that reduced visibility to a few hundred yards. Above the lapping of the tide, from beyond the mist there came a plaintive wail. Saureen stiffened; she couldn’t reconcile the sound with any she had previously heard. Was it the cry of a seal or something more sinister? For several minutes she strained to listen. Although the sound was repeated, she couldn’t make up her mind as to its origin.

  ‘Is it a human voice?’ she asked herself, as she bent low to listen above the whine of the wind. ‘There it is again—it is somebody singing!’

  The sound wafted and waned and began to recede. She froze. She tore at her hair.

  ‘There is no mistaking it; that is Peadar’s voice. That’s the song he used to sing to me during our courting days. He was always singing about this place that he called Hy Brasil.’

  She listened again—faintly it reached her:

  ….. on the ……. of the ……. it lay

  ……. it …… like …….. away ….. away.

  ‘That surely is Peadar singing! Eileen and he are alive— they are out there.’

  The wind dropped to a gentle whisper. The rain shower ceased. The light of a full moon breaking through drifting cloud, was reflected in the dark waters of the sea. It gave a clear view to the far horizon. There was no sign of a boat. The sound she had heard came and went until it gradually faded and died.

  ‘Peadar, Peadar, come back to me. I love you. I want you. I want to be with you,’ she cried as, frantically, she waded still deeper into the tide.

  ‘Bring Eileen back. I know I’ve done wrong. I’ve been unfaithful. Please forgive me. I promise I’ll never, never again deceive you. Come back to me and we’ll live together here in Aran that you love so well. I’m pleading with you, Peadar. Listen to me. Please, please, don’t go away. Wait for me, I’m coming to you,’ she cried in panic.

  ‘I’ll be your loving wife. I’ll be a good mother to Eileen. I’ll give you other children that are ours,… ours, …..ours, ………only and we’ll be together for ever mo….. o…… o. o.……………r.’ A long-drawn smothered cry followed. Silence prevailed. Only the soft swish of the waves encroached on the eerie stillness.

  II

  ‘EILEEN, STOW YOUR SCHOOL BAG AND YOUR THINGS AT the prow of the boat. Put on your heavy coat and pull your knitted cap well down over your ears. When darkness approaches the sea gets cold—I don’t want you getting a chill. We’re not taking the direct route to Aran. I’m going to steer a course along the Connemara coast. To anybody out there in the bay we’ll appear like inshore fishermen hunting a shoal or lifting lobster pots.’

  ‘When will mammy join us?’ Eileen asked. ‘I’d like us all to be together in Aran. You and I will go out fishing— mammy will stay at home to mind the house and do the c
ooking—we’ll all have great fun.’

  ‘I’m sure mammy will come when she’s good and ready,’ Peadar replied, ‘for now let us enjoy the trip and each other’s company.’

  As he sailed slowly west into the slanting sun, Peadar scanned the shipping lane to the south. He grew suddenly silent and morose as he caught sight of The Sansander ploughing its way outward between the Cliffs of Moher and the islands. He wiped a tear from his eye as he thought of the woman he loved spirited away to dine and wine at the captain’s table. Wasn’t he a fool not to have seen what was going on in her life during the years they had been together! He had one consolation—despite her falseness and the devious plans of her lover and herself, they hadn’t succeeded in taking Eileen away from him.

  ‘Daddy, Daddy, see over here, the dolphins are jumping up and down in the water. One of them is so close to our boat I think he wants to talk to us.’

  The sound of Eileen’s voice awoke him from his reverie.

  ‘What am I thinking about?’ he asked himself. ‘I have a job to do, sailing the hooker well clear of the rocky Connemara coast to ensure the safety of Eileen and myself?’ Darkening clouds in the western sky and a rising wind told him that a storm was brewing.

  ‘It would be foolish to attempt crossing to Kilronan tonight; I will sail instead along the coast, and run for shelter into some cove if danger threatens. Eileen needs to get some sleep. It’s a long journey to Aran in this small craft and we are in no particular hurry. Kilkieran is within reach—we will head in that direction and tie up there for tonight.’

  Peadar was well acquainted with berthing the hooker in Kilkieran; he had been there in the Autumn with men from Aran, carrying turf from the mainland to the island. On previous occasions, he and Máirtín had landed catches of herring and mackerel so that they could return quickly to deep water while a shoal was running in order to take advantage of the opportunity presented. Peadar had many friends among the Kilkieran fishermen. The tide was filling fast—huge waves lashed the rocky foreshore as, deftly, he guided the hooker into the harbour and tied up along the quay wall. Tenderly taking Eileen’s hand, he lifted her ashore and set out to find food and accommodation.