Murphy's Law (Molly Murphy Mysteries, #1)

She handed me a chipped enamel mug of tea. I took a big gulp and felt warmth returning to my body.

"First my brother and then my man," she went on. "They hanged our Liam, you know. Only nineteen, he was, and such a lovely boy. He and some of the boys tried to stop the landowner's agent from evicting a neighbor. The agent was killed in the struggle. It was in the dark of night in foul weather and I reckon they'd have got away with it, but someone betrayed them. One of their own, it had to be. They were all hanged." She turned away, coughing again.

"How terrible," I said. "And your man?" "He tried to organize a trade union at the mill. They held a strike. The guard was called in and things got ugly. My Seamus had to flee for his life." She broke off with another coughing spell. "They managed to get him on a boat to America, but he can't come home again. There's a price on his head."

"But you're going to join him now, aren't you? That's wonderful."

A strange look came over her face. "Yes. Wonderful."

At that moment the two little ones burst back in with the bag of chips.

"Seamus ate some on the way home," Bridie exclaimed until she remembered there was a stranger in the room. Then she hung her head and slunk over to her mother.

"No doubt there's plenty for all," her mother said. "And we've meat pie left from yesterday. It's a feast we'll be having." She spread out the newspaper on the small round table. "Help yourself," she said to me.

"No, I couldn't."

"There's plenty. We'll not go hungry tonight and tomorrow we'll be dining in luxury on the boat."

"Will there be lots of food on the boat?" Seamus asked, in between cramming chips into his mouth. "Meat and sausages and everything?"

"Sure there will. As much as you can eat," his mother said.

We washed the food down with a cup of tea, then Kathleen got the little ones tucked into the bed. She and I sat by the fire until the glow began to die down. We talked of home. She told me of her village in county Derry. I told her of my life in Ballykillin and swimming in the ocean

with my brothers and running across the headlands with the wind at my back, making me feel as if I were flying. Already it seemed like a dream, or something I had read of in a book.

"So what will you do now?" Kathleen asked, leaning across to poke some life into the last of the fire.

I shrugged. "I have no idea. I had enough money to get me here but not farther. I was hoping to find a job in one of the factories, but it doesn't seem as if that's going to work, either."

"You've no kinfolk, nobody who'd take you in?"

"Nobody. My own family always said I'd come to a bad end. It looks like I'm going to prove them right. If only I could have come up with the money, maybe I'd have sailed with you on that lovely ship to America. You must be looking forward to seeing your man again, after so long."

She was still staring into the last of the fire. "Aye," she said quietly. She got up, went over to the bed, and pulled out one of the pillows. "You'll be warm enough in front of the fire," she said. "You can borrow my shawl."

"You really don't mind if I sleep on your floor tonight?" I asked. "I don't want to get you into trouble."

"You're not going anywhere else," she said. "And now that the little ones are sleeping, I've a favor to ask you in return." She sat down on the hearth rug beside me.

"Me?" I couldn't think what was coming next. Surely in my current state I was the last person on earth who could do anyone a favor.

"I want you to take the children to America for me tomorrow," she said.

I couldn't have been more caught off guard. "What?"

"When that ship sails tomorrow, I won't be going."

"Why not?"

"They won't let me," she said flatly, staring away from me into the dying fire. "We had to have a medical exam before we could sail. The doctor says I've got consumption--the wasting disease. TB, he called it. He said they don't let you into America with TB."

I couldn't think what to say. We just sat there, staring at the coals.

"So I can't go there but their father can't come here

to get them," she said. "I want them to have a chance at a good life. They say there's opportunity in America. That's where they should be. I want you to go in my place, Molly. Take them to their daddy."

"But what will happen to you?"

I looked up. Tears were welling in her eyes. "You don't normally recover from consumption, do you? But if the Blessed Mother worked a miracle and I did get over it, then I'd be on the next ship, believe me. Until then, I'll go back to my family in county Derry. I don't doubt they'll take care of me."

"What were you going to do if I hadn't come?" I asked.

"Take my chances. I'd be turned back, of course, but I hoped I could persuade them to hand over the little ones to their daddy. But now I know they'll get there safe and my mind's at rest." She looked up for the first time. "I think the Blessed Mother must have sent you here. You will do it, won't you?"

What could I say? The next morning I sailed for America with another woman's name.