Page 77 of Love Unlocked

Melody can see that it’s sinking in with Prunella. Perhaps it’s because things are on the rocks with Jasper, she’s feeling more sensitive. But this is the Night and Day podcast after all and it can’t be all deep and meaningful.

‘My mum and her husband got married at the zoo. The vows were supposed to be said at Haughton House, a beautiful old timber house built in 1890s, but there was a problem and at the last minute it was moved to the reptile house.’

Prunella laughs, then covers her mouth.

‘It’s okay. Grace would want us to laugh.’

‘She would.’

They join the rest of the tourist group in the cells, in the old part of the gaol, imagining the cold and rot and damp, crowded conditions. They listen to the stories of Plunkett and the key figures’ final hours before their execution. Outside Plunkett’s prison cell Melody reads one of his love letters to her that he wrote in confinement after he’d been arrested.

Tuesday 2 May 1916

My darling child,

This is my first chance of sending you a line since we were taken. I have no notion what they intend to do with me but have heard a rumour that I am to be sent to England. The only thing I care about is that I’m not with you – everything else is cheerful. I am told that Tomás was brought in yesterday. George and Jack are both here and well. We have heard not one word of news from outside since 24 Monday April except wild rumours. Listen – if I live it might be possible to get the Church to marry us by proxy – there is such a thing but it is very difficult. I am told Fr X might be able to do it. You know how I love you. That is all I have time to say. I know you love me …

Joe.

They move then to the new part of the prison, a Victorian-­style prison, filled with light, as it was thought that the enormous skylight would spiritually inspire the inmates, while the out-of-reach cell windows would encourage them to look heavenward. Perhaps it worked because on the wall of political cartoonist Grace Plunkett’s cell is a painting of the Blessed Virgin and baby Jesus Christ.

‘Look at this,’ Prunella says, describing for the listeners what she sees.

Grace’s name is on a plaque above the cell. In 1923, during the Civil War, Grace was arrested and interned at Kilmainham Gaol for three months. She was an artist and a cartoonist who was active in Irish Republicanism. Even after losing her husband to the cause, she didn’t give up.

Visitors move around each cell, looking through the windows in a hushed, respectful silence. Grace’s cell door is open.

‘Come on in,’ Prunella says quietly. ‘A few words from her cell.’

‘It’s a small space.’ Melody stalls at the door. ‘I’m not good with small spaces.’ Or being alone. Or being in a relationship.

‘Come on, it’s Grace’s cell! This is one step closer to her. We’ll leave the door open.’

She takes Melody’s hand and gently pulls her inside. Ed joins them.

Melody’s chest tightens as soon as her foot crosses the threshold. She stands at the door for a while, gets used to the space. It’s a small, dark, rectangular room with concrete walls and floor and a heavy door. Despite the open door Melody feels the panic of claustrophobia start to build. She moves to the far wall, beneath the window, and leans against it. This is what Grace saw. It must have been in her mind, walking the ground her husband was killed on by the prison chapel they were married in. She never married again, her commitment to him went on until the day she died. Grace, with her short-lived marriage but her eternal love, and her devotion to Irish freedom, was not afraid of commitment.

‘She lived until 1955 and she never married again. I don’t blame her,’ Melody says. ‘I’d never want to fall in love again.’ They have that in common.

‘No,’ Prunella protests. ‘It’s because he was enough. That one love was enough.’

She looks at her co-host who seems to have seen the light. Perhaps there is hope for Prunella and Jasper’s marriage after all.

Yes, there is something magic in their story that captivates the heart and mind, and that is why the love locks are on the bridge. It’s the magic of their story that continues over one hundred years later, spawning one of the greatest love songs, ‘Grace’. Grace and Joseph’s story has captured hearts all around the world. They welcome in a singer to sing ‘Grace’, unaccompanied by music, inside the small cell. Outside the door, tourists gather to listen to the purity of her sweet soulful voice.

There are goosebumps on Melody’s skin. Ed’s eyes glisten as he listens.

When the song is finished Melody feels Prunella’s mischievous eyes on her as she walks to the cell door. ‘When one door closes,’ Prunella says softly, and starts to pull the door closed behind her, leaving Melody alone. It doesn’t close completely, Melody can see a shaft of light through the gap. Prunella isn’t trying to trick her, she’s trying to help her.

Melody remains in her spot beneath the window, and looks around, listening to the quiet, taking deliberate breaths to calm her nerves, but feeling as close to Grace as she will ever get. How her love for Joseph must have filled her heart and this small cell every single day. Melody harnesses the energy she feels in this cell in this building, the energy people take with them to the Grace Plunkett Bridge. What is it Grace is trying to teach her? What is it that Melody wants Grace to teach her?

She closes her eyes and takes deep breaths. In and out. She continues until her pounding heart starts to slow and no longer feels like it’s trying to get out.

Then the door opens and Prunella is looking at her with a worried expression.

Melody smiles, feeling like she has conquered a great fear, and Prunella grins. Then Melody leaves the cell, grateful that she can.

If love is imperfect, and it is, this story, Prunella’s story, Al’s story and even Melody’s own experience all tell her that she will fit right in.