else, or nothing much, had happened. She lay there and waited. Declan was fast asleep in the other bed.
After a while she heard her grandmother tiptoeing across the parlour. She opened the door to the bedroom quietly and told Helen in a whisper to dress as quickly as she could.
When Helen came out of the bedroom her grandmother was standing by the window.
'Helen, we've bad news now; your father died last night at eleven o'clock. He died very peacefully. We'll all have to look after your mother now. You and Declan are going to go into Enniscorthy with Father Griffin.'
'Where are we going?'
'I've got clean clothes out for you. Mrs Byrne of the Square is going to look after you and Declan.'
Helen felt a sudden surge of happiness that they were leaving here and would never have to come back, but she quickly felt guilty for thinking about herself like this when her father had just died. She tried not to think at all. She went into the kitchen, where Father Griffin was drinking tea.
'We'll all kneel down and say a prayer for his soul,' her grandmother said.
Father Griffin led a decade of the Rosary. He said the words of the prayers slowly and deliberately and when he came to the Hail Holy Queen he recited the prayer as though the words were new to him: 'To Thee do we send up our sighs, mourning and weeping in this valley of tears.' Softly, quietly, Helen began to cry, and her grandmother came over and knelt beside her until the prayers ended.
They sat and drank more tea in silence; her grandmother made toast and aired clothes.
'Why isn't Declan up?' Helen asked.
'Oh, I let him sleep, Helen. It'll be time enough for him when we're packed to go.'
'Have you not told him?'
'We'll let him sleep.'
'He'll be awake.'
As Helen was packing their schoolbooks in the parlour, Declan called her. 'What are you doing?' he asked.
'I'm packing. We're going to Enniscorthy.'
When he looked at her from the bed, she thought that he knew, but she was not sure.
'How are we getting there?'
'Father Griffin.'
He looked at her again and nodded. He got out of the bed and stood on the floor in his pyjamas.
'I want to pack my own schoolbag,' he said.
• • •
Somewhere on the road between The Ballagh and Enniscorthy, with Father Griffin driving and Helen in the front seat, she realised that Declan didn't know their father was dead.
'Are Daddy and Mammy already back from Dublin?' he asked.
Even now, twenty years later, as she lay between the sticky nylon sheets with her hands behind her head, staring at the ceiling as the lighthouse flashed on and off, Helen could still feel the terror in the car as neither she nor Father Griffin answered the question. She expected Declan to ask again, but he sat back and said nothing and they drove on towards the town.
Helen desperately did not want to go to Mrs Byrne's house in the Square. Declan was friendly with the two boys, it would be easy for him, but she had no friends there and knew that Mrs Byrne would treat her like a child. Mrs Byrne was like all the shopkeepers' wives in the town: they were always watching everything, always on the lookout, even their smiles were sharp, and she did not want to be under the control of Mrs Byrne or any other Mrs in the town.
They drove past Donoghue's Garage in silence and crossed the bridge and drove up Castle Hill. Helen was determined not to go into Mrs Byrne's house.
When Father Griffin double-parked in the Square and left them alone in the car, Declan asked her nothing and she told him nothing. Mrs Byrne came out, all smiles. She opened the driver's door and put her head into the back of the car.
'Now, Declan,' she said, 'when Thomas and Francis come home for their dinner, maybe they'll both take the afternoon off so you can play upstairs.'
Helen got out of the car and stood beside Mrs Byrne. 'My granny says I'm to go up home and have the place tidy for Mammy.'
'Helen, I'm sure some of the neighbours will do
Chelle Bliss, Brenda Rothert