Page 122 of The Missing Sister
‘No one will say the O’Reillys are dirty,’ Mammy repeated for the endless time. Merry’s eldest brother John had said ’twas just a chance for Mammy and Daddy to show off their new place, but even if he was right, she was excited about the day. All her friends from school were invited, apart from Bobby Noiro, who for some reason she didn’t know was never allowed up at the farm.
Merry also knew that Bridget O’Mahoney, who looked like Mammy and her sister Katie, with her pale skin and her flame hair, would be wearing a far more expensive dress than her, which would be made by the seamstress who worked for the tailor in Timoleague, like all her clothes were. Bridget came from the richest family around these parts; they lived in a house that was even bigger than the one Father O’Brien lived in. Her daddy drove her to school every day in a big shiny car, whereas the rest of her class had to walk across the fields (which were more of a bog in the winter, when it was raining). Miss Lucey always made them take off their boots and set them by the fire in the schoolroom to dry out while she did her teaching. It was fierce kind of her to think about that, but most times they got soaked again only a few yards into their journey home.
Merry wriggled her toes. She was amazed they were still on her feet and hadn’t turned into fins like the fish, given the amount of time they spent in water. Sometimes the puddles she walked through came up to the bit of her body between her ankle and her knee (she must ask Miss Lucey what that bit was called). Still, today it wasn’t raining and Merry decided to enjoy every moment of it.
As it was a Sunday, the family went to Mass, and outside afterwards Father O’Brien wished her a very happy sixth birthday.
Sunday was her second favourite day, after Mondays up at the priest’s house. Merry looked forward to it all week, because it was the only day that all the siblings had time to play games together after lunch was cleared away. They’d go out into the fields, rain or shine, and run wild. They’d play at hurling, trying to get the small hard ball between the makeshift goalposts that Daddy or John had erected. Or sometimes tag, or hide-and-seek, when she would always be found first because she couldn’t stop giggling. Today, as it was her birthday party, she had been allowed to choose all the games.
As the family climbed onto their pony and trap to head home, Merry decided that no matter how perfect Bridget O’Mahoney’s dress was, and how many layers of net skirts it had, Merry wouldn’t mind a bit, because it washerbirthday, and today was a GOOD day.
‘Mammy, you look so pretty in that dress,’ Merry said admiringly as her mother came into the kitchen just before the party was about to start. ‘Doesn’t she, Daddy?’
‘You’re a picture, to be sure, love,’ Daddy said, putting a hand protectively on Mammy’s huge tummy, as Merry surveyed the feast laid out on the long wooden table.
There were sandwiches with different fillings, Mammy’s special baked ham, scones and, in the centre of it all, a birthday cake iced in pink that saidHappy Birthday Merryon the top of it.
Lined up on another table was an array of mugs ready to be dipped into the barrel that Daddy had brought back on the cart a few days ago. Daddy didn’t go to the pub much, but she’d heard him say that nothing could make a party go with a swing like a glass of stout for the men.
‘Ready?’ her mammy asked her daddy. He gave her one of those secret looks and a smile.
‘Ready.’
‘Our first guests are here,’ piped up Nora, as the Sheehy family appeared in the courtyard.
‘Let the party begin,’ Merry heard Mammy mutter under her breath, as she touched her great big tummy full of baby.
Only a few hours later, Merry lay in her bed with Katie. Both had their heads underneath the pillows to try and block out the sound of Mammy screaming. The water had come again from between her legs just after the last guests had left, and the baby delivery lady had been sent for. Mrs Moran had arrived and shooed the family away as she’d helped Mammy upstairs to her bedroom.
‘Will Mammy die?’ Katie asked her sisters, and Merry could feel her slight body trembling against her. All four girls were in Merry and Katie’s room, along with little Bill, because it was furthest away from the screaming.
‘No, Katie,’ said Ellen, ‘’tis just the way. ’Twas the same when Mammy had Bill.’
‘Then I’ll never have babies,’ Katie said, mirroring Merry’s own thoughts on the subject.
‘Don’t worry, ’twill stop soon and we’ll have a beautiful baby brother or sister to play with. Mammy and Daddy will smile and be as proud as punch,’ said Nora.
‘What if something goes wrong?’
‘It won’t,’ Ellen said firmly.
‘Well, Orla’s mammy died having her little sister,’ Katie said staunchly.
‘’Twill be all right, try and sleep, Katie,’ Ellen soothed her.
‘How can I, when all I can hear is Mammy screaming?’
‘Then we’ll sing, shall we? How about “Be Thou My Vision”?’
So the four girls sang their favourite hymns and a couple of the ‘old songs’ that Daddy liked to play on his fiddle on a Sunday evening. The agonised screaming went on long into the night. Ellen and Nora went back to their room with Bill, and Merry and Katie dozed fitfully through the dark hours until dawn, when a weak cry was heard from their parents’ room.
‘The baby’s here, Katie,’ Merry muttered, as a silence as deafening as the screams fell like a blanket over the house.
‘When can we see the new babe?’
All of the children clustered around Daddy the next morning. ‘Is it a girl or a boy?’ asked John. ‘I want a boy!’
‘It’s a boy,’ murmured a grey-faced Daddy.
