Pack Up Your Troubles

Maeve didn’t reply and so the priest went on, ‘Maeve, surely I do not have to remind you of your marriage vows?’

‘No, Father. You have to remind me of nothing.’

‘Father Trelawney said your husband is distraught, and with good reason, I’d say by your attitude.’

‘My attitude!’ Maeve cried. ‘I’m sorry, Father, but you know nothing about it. It’s Brendan’s attitude needs to be sorted out.’

Annie came bustling towards them then for the kettle was boiling noisily. She made a cup of tea for all of them, while Father O’Brien shook his head as he said, ‘Father Trelawney tells me there were a few problems in your marriage, but that your husband is willing to meet you halfway.’

‘A few problems! Is that what they call it these days?’ Maeve said with a sneer. ‘My husband, Father, drinks nearly every penny he earns, keeping me and the children short, and apart from that he is a vicious bully, both to me and my son.’

‘Father Trelawney mentioned that you make trouble whenever your husband has seen fit to discipline the boy.’

‘Discipline him? Using his belt on a wee boy, who even now is only just seven years old.’

‘Boys, even wee boys, can be very bold. We both know that, Maeve,’ Father O’Brien said. ‘And, you know, it is a father’s duty to chastise his children.’

Maeve shook her head in disbelief. What Brendan had done was not mere chastisement, but how could she make the man before her believe how it really was? ‘All right then, Father. Let’s leave Kevin for the moment. Is it a husband’s duty to chastise his wife too?’

‘It’s a husband’s duty to demand obedience from his wife. You promised to love, honour and obey him, you know.’

‘I know what I said,’ Maeve barked. ‘And I was a fool, for the man is brutal. I have been bruised head to toe by my husband and my face has been such a mess, I’ve had to hide from my neighbours till the swelling has gone down and the black eye’s not so noticeable. As for my son, he still has the stripes across his back from his father’s attempts at disciplining him.’

‘Your husband told Father Trelawney you are argumentative and undermine his treatment of the children. In other words, you provoke him.’

‘Oh, so now it’s my fault?’

‘Not at all,’ Father O’Brien said. ‘Don’t be so hasty, Maeve.’

Annie had remained in the other chair during this time, completely silent. She saw her daughter become agitated and though she knew she had a point in everything she said, she was shocked to see Maeve attacking the parish priest in such a fashion. In order to give Maeve time to compose herself, she said, ‘Would you like another cup of tea, Father?’

The priest handed the cup across to Annie. ‘That would be lovely, thank you,’ he said, and then he directed himself again to Maeve. ‘Perhaps that is one of the problems here.’

‘What is?’

‘Your hot-headedness,’ Father O’Brien said.

‘My hot-headedness, Father, is because you want me to return to a brutal bully and I won’t. You don’t seem to have listened to a word I’ve said as to why I won’t go back to him.’

‘I have listened, Maeve,’ Father O’Brien chided. ‘I have also said your husband is so upset by your flight over here he has promised to change.’

‘Oh yes,’ Maeve said sarcastically. ‘I bet.’

‘Maeve, you’re not being very helpful.’

‘No, Father, I’m not, am I? That will probably be another black mark against me, won’t it?’

Father O’Brien tutted in impatience. Maeve saw he was controlling his anger with difficulty. Without another word, he drained the cup of tea Annie had handed him and got to his feet before he looked at Maeve again. ‘Is that your last word on the subject?’

‘It is, Father.’

‘Then, child, I’ll pray for you.’

‘Thank you. I’m probably in need of prayer.’

‘Don’t mock, Maeve. It doesn’t become you,’ Father O’Brien said sternly.

‘Who’s mocking, Father?’ Maeve asked innocently. ‘I don’t know one soul in the land who would not value prayer.’

Again he tutted in annoyance. Annie had run before him to retrieve his coat and as he took it from her he said, ‘And what is your view on this, Annie? Are you prepared to harbour Maeve and her children, although she is a married woman?’

Annie shrugged. ‘She’s my daughter, Father,’ she said.

A little later they stood at the window and watched the priest stride angrily up the path.

Annie said, ‘This won’t be the end of it, lass. It’s just the beginning.’

‘I know, Mammy,’ Maeve said with a sigh.

There was talk in the village when Maeve went to enrol her children in the village school after the Easter holidays. The headmaster, Mr Monahan, expressed surprise, and Maeve admitted that there were some problems at home that she needed time alone to sort out and she thought it better the children missed as little schooling as possible. Mr Monahan was impressed with the young woman before him, softly spoken but with a decided lift to her chin. He remembered the cowed skinny children she’d arrived with and now saw them sitting each side of their mother definitely much improved even after a few short weeks.

He wondered what the problem was at home and hoped it wasn’t serious, but taking the children into school could only benefit them even if it were for just a short time. He’d had to mention it to Father O’Brien, but he couldn’t foresee any opposition there and he smiled at the children and welcomed them to the school.

They’d been there about ten days when Maeve received a letter from Father Trelawney. In it he expressed Brendan’s regret for the way things had turned out. Father Trelawney said he was truly sorry and he promised things would be different if she returned. Maeve passed it over to her mother to read and when Annie gave it back to her she screwed it into a ball and threw it on the fire.

‘You don’t think he might change?’ Annie said. ‘You’ve given him a shock, leaving him – mightn’t that bring him to his senses?’

Maeve shook her head. ‘He was always sorry when he hit me at first,’ she said. ‘That didn’t last, though. No, Mammy. I can’t risk it. Not for me and the child I’m carrying, nor for Kevin and Grace. Do you want me to go? Are you worried that I’ve broken my marriage vows?’

‘All I want is for you to be happy, child,’ Annie said. ‘And I’ll abide by your decision.’

‘I wonder what the priest would feel if he’d seen the mess Brendan has left me in after a particularly bad beating,’ Maeve said bitterly. ‘Or caught sight of the weals on Kevin’s back. God, Mammy, I can’t go back to that.’

‘Calm yourself, child. Sure, no one’s forcing you to.’

‘Father O’Brien is having a damn good try and now the priest from St Catherine’s has joined in.’

‘Sure, isn’t that their job?’ Annie said placatingly. ‘Are you going to write back to the man?’

‘No, I’m not.’

‘Is that wise, pet?’ Annie said. ‘Tell him how brutal Brendan is to you. Tell your side of the story.’

‘It’s too late for that, Mammy,’ Maeve said resignedly. ‘He and Brendan are great friends. Sure Brendan has got in with his excuses and he’ll never believe different. I never went to him for help while I was there. Why should he believe anything I say now?’

Annie wasn’t sure whether ignoring the letter was a wise course of action or not. But the decision had to be Maeve’s and she said nothing more on the subject.

Just over a week later Maeve got a letter asking her to call at the school to discuss Kevin’s progress.