Free A Woman Undefeated by Vivienne Dockerty Page B

stared, wrong-footed. They had expected to be spoken to in English, as they were about to set foot on English soil. Then Michael, Jack’s dad, found his voice and replied rustily in the old language that they were from Killala, that they were looking for shelter before the night set in and would be grateful until their dying day, if they could see their way to helping them.
    On hearing that they were from the hamlet of Killala, and recognizing the Irish lilt in Michael’s voice, a woman spoke quickly to the rest of the group and soon they were being helped ashore. The boat was tied up at one of the mooring rings and Alice and Maggie were lead to the warmth of a welcoming fire. Their chilled and aching limbs appreciated the luxury of a blazing fire and felt even better when the mattress appeared. What bliss after travelling on the cold and choppy sea.
    A little later as the family sat around the fire, they were joined by their newly acquired neighbours. Their speaker introduced himself as Patrick O’Flynn and, with nods to the others, he gave their names as the O’Hara’s and the Tierneys. Patrick explained that they hadn’t made the crossing from Ireland as they had, but had all been given passage on a cattle boat which ran from Sligo tothe Dee. The captain of the vessel, God bless him, had been a fine man, who had charged them nothing, as long as they didn’t mind sharing the space with the cows. Who had cared about that, when they had free passage and a chance to settle in this fine and prosperous land?
    As yet they still had to find work, but the nearest city, called Chester, was around twelve miles away, or so they had been told. This place was called Neston, or Little Ness as the locals called it, it being a few miles away from the main village beyond. They had been visited by the parish priest and a few nosey eejits who had never seen an Irishman before.
    “Mebbe they expected us to have two heads or to be wielding a shillelagh, ready to beat them with it, I wouldn’t know,” Patrick had said wryly.“But we’ve been made welcome at the tavern over there and the missis was given some flatties by a local fisherman, in return for gutting the rest.”
    The Mayor of the village had seemed friendly enough, Patrick continued. He had got his men to bring down some tarpaulins for them to shelter under, but had warned them that they couldn’t stay forever at the Point. He had suggested that the next time a brick cart came over from Liverpool to his quarry, one of the family’s should hitch a ride and see what work could be had over there. There was a lot of building going on in Liverpool and labourers were in short supply. Going to Liverpool was a far better prospect for everyone, than staying in Neston and living off what the Parish could provide.
    Patrick had laughed as he recounted the Mayor’s words and said they were already getting parish relief of a sort. He had sent his wife out begging. She had been up to the big houses on the road out of Neston and the occupants had given her things, just so she would go away! Then a couple of his children had crept into a nearby farm and had stolen an old limping chicken and a few precious eggs, and the priest had opened his Poor box for them all as well. Of course, the money enabled the men in their number, to get acquainted with the local brew. It wasn’t as good asthe porter back home, but he was sure given time they would get a taste for it.
    Patrick grinned after his explanations and winked a wicked eye, proffering a pot of the ill gotten chicken stew to the Haines’, who fell upon this bounty, greedily.
    It was getting dark by the time they had finished eating their fill and, yawning heavily, made their way towards the cover that had been allocated. Maggie listened to Jack half-heartedly as they settled on the mattress together, whilst he spoke of all the opportunities that they could have. Michael said that he was just glad that they had made it to safety and