Winter Song Read Free Page A

years, even three, who were assumed to have been drowned.…’
    â€˜Well,’ said Father Moynihan, ‘I shall now be able to persuade this woman to go home to Ireland and take the old man with her. It has been her pursuing dream for years. She has a sister there, living in a big empty house in Cork, the Mall, you know …,’ and the other nodded his head—‘let them end their days there in peace! It is the best thing. There is nothing for them to remain for now, his days are numbered, one can see that, poor old chap—he’ll never work again, never. Ah, but it’s sad to be thinking of going home when there is no home. His wife did the most extraordinary thing on that hot July afternoon. She received a telegram that day about the sinking of the Ronsa , and in a sort of daze, went down to the shipping office to have it denied or confirmed. She left the door of her home wide open to the world, and never went back to shut it and has never been there since. Fortunately, her son-in-law heard about it and went down to Hey’s Alley where she lived, he had the furniture put into storage, and then after a few visits paid to the woman in the Hospice, he decided to sell the few things there were—he knew she would not come away now—that all thought of home-making was finished. The few pounds he got he gave to the Mother Superior to look after for her. It will certainly carry them both to Ireland in comfort.’
    He sat up in the chair, the smoking pipe dangling in his hand.
    â€˜It was good of you to have contacted me right away. But I never expected as I came along here to be confronted by a man I’d long ago regarded as dead.’
    Father Twomey took out his watch. He got up.
    â€˜I wonder,’ he said, ‘would you like to come up again, he may have waked.’
    â€˜Yes, let us go up now.’
    But looking into the room they found the man still sleeping, lying like a log, his heavy breathing filling the room.
    â€˜He may sleep for hours.’
    â€˜Let him sleep. But now I must go. You will call me again, Twomey, when the old man wakes up. You won’t have him moved or anything—it is essential that I should talk to him. If I must prepare his wife for shocks, I must equally prepare him. It makes me glad I’ve known them so very long.’
    â€˜I shall ring you at once. But I shall have a doctor here within the hour. He is very weak.’
    They walked out again into the busy street, and stood there talking for a few minutes. Father Moynihan looked away towards the sea and thought of the old man in that sea and of the sea that had flung him back again.
    â€˜It’s sad, and at the same time it’s wonderful,’ he said—‘those two people united at last. They saw little of each other. Old Fury spent a whole life-time at sea except for a few years when he worked ashore … but that was always a cage to him, and I think, too, he was glad to escape out of it, and from the old woman’s tongue. A simple man, too simple, for that woman who gathered the children round her and left the husband outside. Now they’ve all torn themselves away from her, and she has only him. I hope she will learn to be kinder to him now. But I must fly. Bye-bye, Twomey.’
    â€˜Bye-bye,’ Father Twomey gave a wave of the hand, smiled, then went back to the office.
    Delahane was waiting for him, anxious, impatient.
    â€˜That old chap’s woken up, and his shouts made me nearly jump out of my skin. Will you come up at once, Father. He’s been shouting about the sea, the sea on fire, somebody by the name of Lenahan.’
    â€˜He’s probably been dreaming. He may have had a nightmare. Let’s go up.’
    â€˜Yes, Father,’ and he preceded the priest to the room where the old man lay.
    When they came in, the old man was lying quiet in the bed, but he had heard the door open, and as they approached the bed, he opened