Legacy (17 page)

Chapter Forty One

Mum's actions boycotting the tricolour in the grave yard and confronting the commander meant that our family not only stood out because of our colour but also for being anti-IRA. Mum in her bravado had made us potential targets. Which brings me to days I remember well; the days of the army raids which became a part and parcel of daily life in the town. On a regular basis the homes of many if not most of the town's residents were raided. It became a common talking point amongst the locals usually concerning who was raided and what had been successfully hidden from the army glare. The raids involved the British army searching houses for weapons, explosives or any clues pertaining to terrorist connections. It seemed that at least one time or another, every house in the town had had a raid. All but ours.

Often we would arrive home to find every front door in the street wide open, many having been kicked down; personal effects would be strewn across hallways that were on open view to all. All of this was evidence that frantic searching had went on; that another no warning raid had taken place.

The people we lived next to would eye us with distrust; suspicions were high in those days. They must have wondered why we were being excluded, if we watching them or worse if we were we were some sort of informers. At this stage Mum was already running scared due to her previous stunts. She didn't need any more reasons to be targeted.

Soon the other children began making comments, calling us “Brits” or what they took to be the ultimate insult “Protestants”. It got so bad that in the end Mum went to the police and explained our predicament, how she was quite possibly the only non-sympathiser in the town. They swiftly informed her that they knew exactly who she was. They too had heard of her one woman mission to rid the country of IRA. An officer brought her into an interview room and told her that she had every reason to fear, these people were unscrupulous.

That day the police arranged for our house to be “included” in any further raids. This simply meant that when the army raided our street that they would also come into our house. In practice it meant that whilst everyone else had their front doors kicked down, their possessions scattered and often destroyed we had our front door carefully opened, never would we find an item out of place. Sometimes a little note was left stating they walked through as requested.

I wondered now why no one noticed that our door was never damaged, that the contents of our house were never rummaged or destroyed. Yet the cunning rouse was successful and before long the natives believed that we too was subject to searches and enemy suspicion. We had successfully assimilated as far as the natives were concerned.

That day the police officer also gave Mum something which she found very valuable but which terrified me. She was furnished with a little mirror which she was instructed to use every morning before she left the house. The mirror was a means of scanning under the car before attempting to move it. It would alert Mum to any tampering and show up any devices that may have been planted. Mum was also given a quick vigilance brief in which she imparted to us, it told us what to look out for and contact numbers if anything, anything at all bothered us.

Even with the new devices Mum never felt entirely safe and our Nigerian plans became more and more real. When she found a buyer for the house, she knew it was time to make the move. I recall her sitting us three down and telling us the plans. She told us that she would always be there for us and we would be much happier there. Once again she told us about the bad man who killed our Dad and explained that the men that she had knocked down were his friends. She told us that the town was full of his friends.

I was so excited at the prospect of moving to the other side of the world, it would be such fun, never ending holiday. My sisters and I were happy to leave as we were young and adventure appealed to any child. Mum told us that we would be able to buy a new house there and that she would find a job. I was the most excited of all as apparently I was beginning to pick up some of my Dad's traits. I the one who never knew him was beginning to walk like him and worry like him. Yet one trait dominated above all the others; I loved animals like him.

Mum had described Nigeria as the land of milk and honey where dreams came true, so in my little mind I would have a dog or even better my very own pack of dogs. She agreed that when we got there I could have a pet; this was most likely to pacify me. I think I would have gladly moved to the moon if the promise of having a pet was fulfilled. Over the next few weeks, whilst my family were concentrating on Nigeria, I was naming my dog, pretending to walk it along with pointing out every waif and stray I saw. Mum really hoped this was a passing trait, she had enough on her plate and a four legged friend was not an addition she would relish.

Mum had arranged the big move for that summer thanks to the help of Father Mulvey she had several properties to see when we got there and a recommendation of a good boarding house where we could stay until we acquired a home.

Chapter Forty Two

When I asked Mum why our move hadn't come to fruition, why it
really
hadn't occurred, she furnished me with a description of events that I then believed. I guess as I have matured I have my doubts as to Mum's frame of mind then. She was ill and on medication and the mind has its way of distorting any situation. However Mum is utterly convinced that her reasons for staying were based on a strange encounter.

She described sitting with her mother one afternoon over tea discussing the finer points of the trip when a knock came to the door. They hadn't been expecting anyone and it was strange to have a caller so early in the afternoon. Her mother answered the door and when she returned to the living room she was accompanied by some sort of priest. He was dressed from head to toe in white, and wore robes, robes like they had never seen before. He was swarthy and although not classical good looking he boasted a striking appearance. He had deeply tanned skin, dark brown hair and when Mum's eyes met his he had the kindest eyes she had ever seen.

“Gabrielle?” he inquired,

She nodded, looking from him to her mother trying to find some sort of answer as to why this man was here, to ascertain who this strange visitor was. Behind his back her mother shrugged and then as was customary for anyone who entered the house offered him a tea or coffee. He declined anything and instead sat down when invited.

His eyes never left Mum's face and when they discussed his appearance afterwards they both felt that he seemed to glow, to radiate some sort of light. Her mother put it down to the bright day and his chair being positioned in the brightest corner of the room. That day the sun was blazing in and concentrated precisely on where he sat. Mum said nothing but as far as she was concerned she was in the presence of an extremely holy man.

When Mum was very young her grandmother used to tell her that when a priest was saying Mass that she was to not to look at him as a man. When a priest stood on the altar and uttered his sacred words he became far greater than man. Mum was to look beyond the man and see Jesus. Despite her Grandmother's words any Mass that Mum had ever attended or priest she had ever encountered had always been a mere man to her. She could see Jesus in them as much as she could see Jesus in a horse. Her grandmother would chuckle when she told her this, always careful to disguise her laughter and tell her off for being disrespectful.

That day this exotic man's presence instantly reminded Mum of her grandmother's words and for the first time ever, she saw Jesus in that beautiful priest in the living room. When she paid him the reverence she had been brought up to show any priest, this time she didn't do it to appease her family, she did because she meant it.

“I have had to travel to see you today,” he said, his soft voice had no discernible accent, all that she remembers extracting from it was gentleness.

“Oh,” she said utterly dumbfounded,

Her mother seeing her lost for words, was quick to intervene.

“Father, Gabrielle has been through a lot and is grateful for your visit; she's just a little quiet today,” she said.

He laughed revealing a smile that was as beautiful as the rest of him,

“I know, I know Mrs Caulfield,” he said, leaning forward. He was now sitting directly opposite Mum.

“Gabrielle, I cannot stay long, but I come with a very important message for you,” he said.

“Oh,” she said again, she really couldn't get any words out the whole experience was just so strange.

Smiling still he continued,

“Dear child, I know all about your plans, I know every one of them. I am telling you to cancel them.”

“Oh,” she said again, blatantly aware that a pattern was emerging on her side of the conversation. This man was going to think she was a complete fool.

Luckily for her, her mother again intervened.

“What plans father? She has quite a few,” Grandmother asked.

“Nigeria,” he said

“You're here about Gabrielle's plans for Nigeria?” her mother inquired,

“Yes,” he said flatly, his smile vanished and was replaced with a look of intent as he placed his hands over Mums and said: “Do not go to Nigeria, you have my word that you and your children will be safe here.”

“Oh,” again words continued to fail her she felt such an eejit.

“Father she has arrangements in place,” her mother said.

“Un-arrange them Gabrielle,” he said, “Can you do that for me?”

His eyes reached into her very soul. This time she surpassed herself and uttered a word rather than oh.

“Yes,” she muttered,

“Do I have your assurance?” he asked still focussed intently on her face.

She nodded.

“Good, then it is done,” and with that he thanked her mother shaking her hand, gave Mum another dazzling smile and left. Her mother saw him out and sat down in his place. She simply looked at Mum and said nothing, Mum simply looked back. They regarded each other for a while, before they both lit a cigarette and went over the incident.

The worst thing was that neither of them had seen him arrive or depart. Her mother admitted that she was every bit as baffled and stunned as Mum, she had just hidden it better. They never did get his name nor did they ever find out where he was from.

For Mum though she went home that day feeling a great sense of peace, waves of calm flowed through her and she slept. She slept for a long time and for the first time since Dad had died she didn't visualise the train. Mum kept her word and abandoned our move to Nigeria. Instead Mum found us a home in the outskirts of the town, a little more expensive than she could afford, but at least it us away from the majority of people. I was disappointed when Mum told us that our Nigerian adventure was cancelled, but as all the planes had been stopped we had little choice but to stay. Mum had said the only other way there was if we could by magic carpet and she couldn't find one. We were all so disappointed but I resolved to keep my eyes peeled for such a carpet and in the meantime I would try and get Mum to commit to her promise of a dog.

In a moment of weakness Mum relented. She claimed that without a father I had one less thing to love than my counterparts; maybe a dog wouldn't be such a bad idea. She must have rued the day she relented, because very soon every waif and stray from far and wide was collected. I spent my childhood days administering to creatures, seeing beauty in even motlest of mutts and driving my family mad in the process.

Chapter Forty Three

It didn't take long for us to move to our new house and settle in. Mum had furnished it with such attention to detail that it felt more like a show house than a home but it was nice that she had something to focus on. Mum still had her bad days but my sisters and I had learnt to accept them. She was working extra shifts to allow for the increased mortgage costs so we rarely saw her anyway. The house had needed to be purchased quickly as we had sold our last home for the move to Africa. It meant that Mum had to inject almost all of our savings for Nigeria to secure it. Mum was right though in that I didn't notice her absence or wasn't as needy when I had my dogs. All my spare time was fully occupied especially when much to my amusement one delivered a new litter of pups. I wasn't amused however when she ate two of them. I loved it when Mum had a day off I used to count the days until her shifts finished. Although she would be tired and sometimes down at least she would be there. We may have had a beautiful home but we never really saw Mum. Mum had said that my Dad was extremely cautious with money he would have to justify the spending of each and every penny and always ensuring that we always had a contingency fund in the form of savings. He would tell her that saving for a rainy day kept crisis away. I'm sure the lack of savings did niggle Mum as I remember her planning to build up new savings over the next few years.

Mum talks of a second encounter with the demonic woman in green or IT as she refers to her was to occur almost two years after our move to Nigeria was cancelled. Mum was still constantly improving the house and updating the decor. Cushions, curtains, new bed linens and pictures were changed frequently to match the going colour schemes of the time. To keep up with changing interior fashions Mum enlisted her mother to accompany her on a trip to Derry to finalise her needs once and for all. She recounts the events of that day as if it were yesterday; I suppose if I experienced them I would too.

The day began like any other trip to Derry they drove across distinctive blue and white Craigavon Bridge towards the city centre. The traffic lights ahead had turned red so Mum slowed the car to a stop. As they were waiting on the lights to change she looked at the river Foyle below musing that it seemed extra high that day.

Her thoughts on the height of the river Foyle were interrupted when she heard her mother mutter “Jesus, Mary and Saint Joseph.” She saw her mother rustle in her handbag and extract rosary beads. When Mum looked up to see what had unsettled her so much she saw a familiar face. A face she last saw before her husband died. The woman in green who she called ‘IT'. Once again IT had appeared from nowhere. This time it was to find Mum on the Craigavon Bridge in Derry. IT loomed over the bonnet and stared directly at her and like their previous encounter transfixed Mum to the point of paralysis. Her mother prayed and prayed. Mum now whiter than white clutched the steering wheel so tightly that her knuckles were transparent, her bones threatening to protrude through the flesh. Her mother shook her and said “Gabrielle drive.”

Her words also shook Mum too, for she came out of trance and turned the car. She followed her mother's instructions and drove all the way back to the town and straight to the parochial house.

They recounted the incident to the new priest Father O' Kane, and he left them for a moment. Father O'Kane ran a charismatic prayer group within the town and was known to be close to God. When he returned to the room he said he would pray over them. He spent a long time with Mum yet rather than take comfort in that it made her more afraid.

The last words Mum remembers him uttering to her that day send shivers down my spine,

“I believe Satan takes many forms, and I believe you encountered him today, you must pray Gabrielle, you must keep praying,” he said.

Shaken they thanked him and left. Her mother now remembering the previous encounter Mum had told her about before Max died looked utterly mystified. Yet her devotion to the church and faith in God was so strong that she kept believed whatever they had seen was no threat, she said that she would keep praying and reassured Mum that she would be okay.

In the weeks and months that followed the apparition Mum was extra vigilant keeping us close and taking extra precautions with the car and the house. She ensured that no bomb had been planted, that no gun man could break in and that every possible danger was removed. Yet nothing happened. I developed severe asthma a month later and Mum says that she convinced herself that this was the reason behind the appearance; that I was going to die. I always laugh as I remind her that this wouldn't have been possible, after all only good die young. I remember missing a lot of school but I was fine. Alison and Maxine were also fine. Mum just couldn't understand the reappearance of that thing.

Father O'Kane came and blessed our house scattering Holy Water in every nook and cranny of each room. He would sit and pray with Mum. Yet nothing untoward happened. Mum began to think that the visit that day was simply to serve as a reminder that she was cursed, to tell her that whatever vendetta IT had against her was still in force.