The Affectionate Player - Part2

Chapter 12

"That's right."

"Well then. I suppose my first question has to be what caused the fire and why were my sisters not at home with their family." Releasing his breath he sighs.

"That's an easy answer. Bridie and Margaret lived with Paddy's mother. Her name was Emma. They went to live with her when Frances was born."

"Yes, you told me yesterday they lived with her. Why?"

"Their small house was just getting too busy and having three toddlers and a newborn along with three other children was taking its toll on your mother. If you ask me she was exhausted trying to run a house with peanuts for income. Paddy may as well have been bringing home magic beans for all the good it did her." Pausing, he sighs again. "Sorry, that was unkind of me."

"Don't worry, Father. There's no need to dress up the facts on my account."

"Even so. I should know better," he replies, shifting in his chair while chastising himself.

"So, Paddy liked to drink?"

"Yes. There wasn't much money to be earned but even the little that was brought home on a Friday night was halved."

"Halved?" I ask, confused.

"His 'drinking with the boys' money. He always made sure he had that."

"But that's just selfish. He had a wife and seven children to feed as well as me on the way."

"And that's exactly why he tried to force your mother to give you away."

"What?" Had I heard him properly?

"He'd told her there were to be no more babies. Except when he'd drink he'd expect...well, certain graces." I'm appalled and the obvious groan of disgust from my throat leaves Max and Father Paul in no doubt of it. This has to be a far stretch from the truth. A woman - my mother - having to put up with that from her own husband?

"This is very unpleasant for you, Gracie. Would you like to postpone?" I shake my head in response to Father Paul's question.

"No. Tell me about the fire." He looks from me to Max, unsure himself if he should continue and I can tell by the look on Father Paul's face that he's on the brink of delaying me. But I've not heard nearly enough. I need to know more.

"Please, Father," I say turning to face him. "Tell me."

"OK. But you must ask me to stop if it gets too much." Agreeing, I urge him to continue.

"The night the twins died Paddy had been to the pub telling everyone how he and Willow had been arguing beforehand. She'd thrown him out you see, and told him to find somewhere else to live but not before he'd put her in her place if you know what I mean. He took great pleasure in sharing the details with his friends."  Horrified, I gasp. She'd been pregnant with me and he'd hurt her? Have I misunderstood?

"I'd heard it said often how she'd had enough of his demands and with Cillian being around fourteen at the time your mother had managed to get him a job; likely she thought with his bit of money coming in she could finally give Paddy his marching orders. Folk said she'd have been no worse off."

"He sounds horrible and not someone I'd ever have wanted to know."

"You're not a bad judge." It occurs to me then how much Father Paul has been privy to. How can he possibly know all of this? Wasn't it his uncle who was the Devenney family priest?

"I hope you don't mind me asking, Father. It's just that you seem to know rather a lot of the family. I mean, I'm happy you do." I laugh, nervously. "It certainly makes my life a whole lot easier not having to go searching for information but it's almost like you had a birds eye view."