Page 188 of The Missing Sister
‘Our past?’
‘Yes. You’ll be remembering that we never had our grandparents round to visit us, or any cousins either?’ said Katie.
‘I do, and I could never understand it.’
‘No, but when I started working at the old people’s home in the early nineties... let me tell you, you learn a lot about the old stories there. Maybe their folks have stopped listening, or maybe they tell you things because you’re a stranger. Anyway, I’d one old lady who was in our special care unit, as we called it, which meant those who didn’t have long left on this earth. I was on a night shift and went in to check on her. Even though she was in her nineties, she’d all her faculties on her. She stared at me and said I was the spit of her daughter, then asked my name. I told her I was Katie Scanlon, but then she asked what my maiden name had been. I told her it was O’Reilly and tears appeared in her eyes. She grasped my hand and said she was my grandmother, Nuala Murphy, and her daughter had been named Maggie. She told me she’d a story she needed to get off her chest before she met her maker. It took her three nights to tell it, because she was so weak, but she was determined to do so.’
I stared at Katie in disbelief. ‘Nuala wasourgrandmother?’
‘Yes, the one we never saw, apart from that once at Mammy’s funeral. After what she told me, I understand better why we didn’t see her. Merry, what’s wrong? You’re a strange colour.’
‘I... Katie, I was given her diary a very long time ago, by someone we... both knew.’
‘Who?’
‘I’d prefer not to say just now, or we’ll be off down another track and—’
‘Well now, I can guess who gave you that diary. Why did you never tell me?’
‘Firstly, because I only read it myself a few days ago – I know that might sound odd, Katie, but I was only eleven when it was given to me and I wasn’t interested in learning about the past. Then when I got older, because of who gave it to me, I never wanted to set eyes on it again.’
‘But you still kept it?’
‘Yes, I did. Please don’t ask me why, because I honestly couldn’t tell you,’ I sighed.
‘Sure, I won’t, but since you’ve read it, I’m guessing you’ve made the family connection?’
‘No, because the diary stopped in 1920. Something happened to Nuala and she said she couldn’t write anymore.’
‘Maybe you could show it to me sometime. I heard the whole sorry story from beginning to end. Where did you get up to in the diary, so I won’t be repeating myself?’
‘I...’ I cleared my throat. ‘It was just after Philip – the British soldier – had shot himself.’
‘Right. Nuala was still upset by that, along with a whole lot more that came after, including the reason why she never came to visit when our mammy married our daddy.’
‘Katie, just tell me,’ I said in a burst of impatience.
Katie drew a folder out of her smart Louis Vuitton shopper and flicked through a large sheaf of pages. ‘I wrote it all down after she told me, so I wouldn’t forget it. So, you already know the part up to when Philip killed himself.’
‘I do.’
‘Well, the War of Independence went on for a good deal longer after that. Finn, Nuala’s husband, was a volunteer, as you know, and they were dark times as both sides stepped up the violence. Now then, let’s start when Hannah, Nuala’s sister, married her fiancé, Ryan, soon after Philip met his end...’
December 1920
The wedding of Hannah Murphy and Ryan O’Reilly took place in Clogagh church, in a very different atmosphere than that of Nuala and Finn’s. They had wanted something small that befitted the sombre mood that hung in the air.
Decked with holly and a candle set in each window, the church looked festive, but Nuala walked through the wedding in a fog of grief she couldn’t seek comfort for. No one could know how devastated she was at Philip’s death.
At the party afterwards, held in the church hall, Sian, one of Hannah’s dressmaker friends, leant over to Nuala.
‘Is Herself not interested in helping the cause now she’s a married woman?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, she used to be the first we’d all go to if a message needed sending somewhere. Now she says she hasn’t the time.’
‘I’d say her mind was on her wedding, Sian,’ Nuala replied. ‘Sure, she’ll settle down once it’s all over.’
