Free A Woman Undefeated by Vivienne Dockerty

graveyard, the very next day. These Haines’ had prevented her from being there, prevented her from following the coffin, stolen away her right to the ritual of mourning and the knowledge that her mother’s body had been safely and Christianly dealt with. Well, she would never forgive them for it, not one of them. Even if they had gone to the trouble of knocking up a wooden box, for her mother to be buried in decently. Whatever happened in her life from now on, she would remember what this family had done. Grief had turned to anger, but for the moment nothing could be done.
    Alice had noticed that Maggie was showing an interest in the scenery and shuffled her body closer. They were passing a long narrow island, around two acres in width. Upon it perched a derelict building that might once have been a church. Around the island floated black, big headed creatures that looked like shiny dogs. One came so near to the boat, that Maggie leant out to touch it. She squealed in delight as it nudged her hand, then floated off again.
    That encouraged Alice to put her arm around the girl’s shoulders, whilst beginning to say that she was sorry that they had left Killala in the way they had. It had been the urgency of getting away on an early morning tide, but if it had been any different they would have stayed and helped to put on a decent funeral for her mother.
    Maggie shook off her arm huffily and turned to look at the two smaller islands they were passing, so Alice shrugged. The girl would come round in time. She was sure to need some motherly advice in a strange and unfamiliar land.
    The wind had begun to drop and the men began to take turns in rowing. Seamus, Jack’s brother, was given the job of looking out for the sand banks that had begun to rise. The hills on the right of the estuary had now become mountains and with the vista being clearer, cattle could be seen grazing in the far off fields. To the left was rolling grassland and dark, dense woodland, with the occasional whitewashed cottage built along the shore.
    A little way on, a fishing boat came into view, smaller than their boat, but a neat sturdy craft that bobbed and dipped in their direction. As the two boats drew closer, the man hailed them, probably intending to ask where they were bound. They gasped as one, when, as he did so, a flock of marauding seagulls swooped en masse, down upon the trawling net that the vessel was dragging behind. They all leapt up and waved their arms about wildly, nearly capsizing the boat in an attempt to help the fisherman from losing his precious catch. Then they sat down breathless, laughing with a touch of hysteria, a welcome diversion from the helplessness that they had been experiencing before he came along. The man smiled ruefully and pointed back in the direction he had come.
    “Will it be the Irish settlement at Denna Point you’re making for?”
    He could see their weary faces, the brave countenances of the men, the worried looks on the women’s faces and the mean chattels of a family without a home.
    He had probably seen many of these poor hopeful peoplebefore, as many Irish were leaving their homeland and trying for a new life in England.
    Directing Jack’s dad to keep on until they reached the Denna Gutter, he said that the undercurrent would push the boat naturally into shore.
    “The river thins out up there, see. ‘Tis only high in the Spring. It’s beginning to get choked with sampkin grass, so you’ll be able to wade in and carry the women ashore.”
    He waved away their thanks and went on his way, with the seagulls whirling and swooping again and the fisherman poking a long stick into the air.
    Jack shouted after him, “What place will we be?” But the man’s answer was lost on the wind and under the shrieking cries of the seagulls, as his craft sped off pushed by the fast running tide.
    Their spirits lifted a few minutes later, as a large village came into view. It was so different than anything they had