Page 93 of Heartbreak for the Irish Midwife

‘Am I not?’ Alex wasn’t sure about this. He had been the ‘good boy’ all his life – at school and university, at work . . . But perhaps not all the time. Memories came to him now – of standing up to Father and insisting he wanted to study medicine. Of his adventures with those lively girls in Edinburgh – adventures that would shock even Father MacLaverty if he knew about them. His attempt to challenge Fenton over poor Mrs Lennon. Each had required courage, in different ways. The courage to be different. ‘Maybe,’ he said slowly. ‘Walking out with a Catholic girl goes against expectations – for both of us, but it’s left us in something of a pickle.’ He gave a rueful laugh. ‘We’re up the left, as Maisie might say.’

‘Let me guess. You want to marry her.’

Alex shrugged. ‘Of course I do. You know her, Father MacLaverty – you know how wonderful she is. How could I not want to marry her?’

The priest shook his head sadly. ‘I do see many’s a couple that worry me, you know. I’ll never have a wife myself, but priests notice certain things. Some couples bicker and fight, or they disrespect one another – even before the wedding. You and Maisie, though . . .’ He shrugged. ‘If it wasn’t against the rules, I’d say you epitomise a truly sacramental couple.’

Alex blinked. This was one of the things he loved about the priest – his ability to flip from the concrete to the intellectual without missing a beat. ‘What does that mean?’

‘The sacrament of marriage and the love between a couple is a sign of Christ’s love. It’s a reflection of the faithful, enduring love between Christ and his church. You two, you and Maisie – you’re properly loving and faithful and committed . . .’ His unspoken words hung in the air. But you are from different religions.

They played chess then, and Alex tried hard to concentrate on the game, rather than all the other things buzzing around his head.

‘Checkmate!’ Father MacLaverty’s glance this time held humour along with triumph. ‘That’s three in a row to me, Alex. The turmoil over Maisie Canavan is granting me unexpected benefits!’

‘Ha! Just you wait until it all gets sorted, then.’ He pretended to be shocked. ‘A man of God, using my personal distress to win a game! Outrageous!’

Father MacLaverty laughed, and as Alex rose to leave, said casually, ‘Take that book with you. I’m always available to answer any questions.’

‘Thanks.’ Equally casually, Alex stowed the small book in his inside pocket, where it rested, pressing on his heart. Everything was confusing – and he still had no idea what he was going to say tomorrow to Maisie’s father.

30

‘She what? A Protestant?’ Da’s voice rose in outrage, making Maisie’s entire body jump in shock. The whole family were walking home from Mass, and Mammy had clearly decided this was a good time to break the news.

They were just in front, and Maisie’s steps faltered by Maureen’s side as Da’s head whipped round. ‘Maisie! Get over here!’

Da was rarely moved to anger, but when he was, it felt much, much worse than Mammy’s everyday irritation.

Keeping her gaze straight ahead – for she couldn’t even look at Maureen, or at Matty and Molly who were bringing up the rear – Maisie sped up to stand with her parents. Mammy was now between her and Da, which would maybe protect her if Da decided violence was needed. He wouldn’t, though. Even when they were children, it had been Mammy and her wooden spoon which had usually been deployed, but there was something about an angry man that was triggering primitive fear within her.

‘Yous go on back to the house,’ Mammy told the others. Maisie caught sight of Matty’s grim expression as he ushered wee Molly along, Maureen agog with a mix of curiosity and concern.

Once they had gone, Da finally turned to Maisie. ‘Your mammy says you’re walking out with a Protestant,’ he began, his face flushed with anger. ‘She says he’s some doctor from North Belfast. Is it true?’

She nodded, then winced as he began a long tirade, criticising her, the Protestant, and the notions she’d developed since travelling to England which, he declared, was full of heathens. ‘I always thought you were smart, Maisie,’ he finished sadly. ‘I never took you for stupid.’

‘I’m sorry, Da,’ she managed. ‘I never wanted to hurt you – either of yous.’

‘This is far, far worse than me and your mother being hurt,’ he said, his voice heavy with weariness. ‘This could affect your whole future.’ He shook his head slowly, then looked at her. ‘Are you willing to finish with him?’

‘I can’t, Da. I’m sorry.’

He closed his eyes briefly, as if in pain. ‘My wee girl,’ he murmured. ‘Never did I think I’d see the day.’

Oh, God. This was it. Occasionally, very occasionally, Maisie had known a girl to marry a Protestant and convert to whatever branch of Christianity her young man followed. But she always moved away. Always.

Mammy was mopping her tears with a cotton handkerchief. ‘The only thing is, Mick, the young fella seems awful great with Father MacLaverty at St John’s. I met him there at the céilí on Friday night, and the priest seemed to think he was a great lad altogether.’

‘What?’ This clearly took Da aback. ‘Might he convert?’ He grimaced, answering his own question before anyone else could. ‘Can’t see it myself. A big doctor? He’ll want you to convert to his religion. What is he anyway?’

‘Presbyterian.’

‘Presbyterian?’ he echoed. He gave a short laugh, and Maisie heard heartbreak in it. ‘Henry Joy McCracken would have sorted it out, no doubt. Catholic, Protestant, and dissenter, fighting side by side to free Ireland.’ He sent her a sharp glance. ‘Is he for the treaty and the partition of Ireland?’

‘He had never really thought about it much,’ Maisie said carefully, trying not to put words into Alex’s mouth. ‘But he’s more open about things than he used to be.’

Da tutted. ‘Doesn’t matter in the end. You’ll probably end up going back to England and we’ll never see you again.’ His voice was thick with emotion, and the guilty feelings inside Maisie were sickening. She knew the rules; she always had. People in mixed marriages didn’t stay in Belfast. They moved away. In that sense Da was no more in charge of her banishment than she was.