Once a Gypsy Page 13

  Twisting her hand out of Da’s, Helena stood up and walked over to the cooker. The soup boiled. Helena stirred a wooden soupspoon in slow, torturous circles through the liquid.

  This wasn’t right. She would have to fight—even if it was against the people she loved. It might mean she would lose everything—the kids, her family, and her culture, the only life she’d ever really known—but she couldn’t stand by and be forced into a marriage.

  Helena thought about the book, now concealed safely inside the refrigerator. Graham had shown her a kindness no other country man had done before. He took her in and gave her a job—all to save his family. He had lied to her, yes, but he had wanted her at the manor. His determination made her feel wanted for the first time. No one had ever really gone after her the way Graham had. And tonight, when he had taken her hand, for a split second it had seemed as if he wanted to kiss her.

  The boiling soup swirled in the pot.

  The O’Donoghue boy didn’t even have the courtesy to come meet her in person. Instead he had relied on his father—and an unsettled debt—to find a match.

  The soup bubbled up and the hot liquid splattered against her skin. She reached over for the sink’s tap, and as her hands connected with the metal handle, her eyes closed and a thick fog overtook her senses.

  A vision of a girl wearing an enormous white wedding gown filled her mind. The bride stood at the front of the pews in a massive church, her back turned. Her dress was covered in a swirling mass of pink crystals and a tiara the size of a small statue sat on her cascading curls.

  The groom stood next to her. The man was tall and tanned, his dark, ashy hair cut short at the sides, but long and spiked on top. Helena squinted as she tried to see the boy more clearly. He kept looking back toward the door of the church, as if at any moment he would stop the services and run, but his face was constantly obscured by shadow.

  The vicar stood at the front, Bible in hand, and motioned to the couple. “Please repeat after me: By the power that Christ brought from heaven, mayst thou love me. As the sun follows its course, mayst thou follow me. As light to the eye, as bread to the hungry, as joy to the heart, may thy presence be with me, oh one that I love, ’til death comes to part us asunder.”

  The bride diligently mumbled the words as her bouquet trembled. The groom took the girl’s shaking hand. He placed his hand atop of hers as the vicar took a ribbon and fastened them.

  The pain from the burn radiated up Helena’s arm as the haze lifted from her vision. Helena opened her eyes and found her hand still resting on the tap. She turned the lever and stuck her burning flesh beneath the cold water.

  Whose wedding had she seen? Was it her own? Was the boy Brian O’Donoghue? Was she fated to marry him?

  Or was there another choice?

  Chapter Fourteen

  Graham climbed the ladder to the roof of the empty cottage. The straw sat like the weight of the world upon his shoulders. He dropped the bundle down and pushed the wire, used to secure the thatching, through to the inside of the house. “Seamus?”

  The wire shot back up from under the straw.

  “Did you wrap it around the batten?”

  A grunt filtered up from below. The house was small, and thatching it wouldn’t take too long, but working with Seamus, in the state he was in, was proving to be almost unbearable.

  They hadn’t spoken a word about what had transpired between them at the restaurant. It shocked him that Helena and her father had even shown up to work the next morning.

  Helena had large bags under her eyes, and her hair was uneven, as if she had weathered a tempest. He’d tried to catch her eye, but she had given him an icy glance and then made her way to the kitchens.

  The morning had brought fog along with it, and the dampness pulled on him as he worked. He tied a knot around the straw. “Seamus, can you hand me another?”

  The door to the cottage swung open, and Seamus walked out, careful not to step under the ladder. He threw a bundle over his shoulder and carried it to Graham. Graham pitched it onto the batten and cinched it down.

  “I think you and I, we need to have a talk.” Seamus’s voice had a strange edge.

  “All right. Just a sec.” The ladder creaked as he made his way down. “Let’s get this over with.”

  “Aye.” Seamus’s aura glowed dark blue, the color of a poorly moonlit night. He feared facing the truth. Seamus pulled out a cigarette and lighter from his pocket. “Did ya know I haven’t smoked in more than six years?”

  Graham shook his head.

  “Aye. Not since before my time in the clink.” The lighter clicked as Seamus lifted it up to the end of the cigarette. He inhaled, letting the fire turn the end into a red-hot ember. A puff of smoke poured from the man’s mouth.

  “I ever tell you why I got arrested?”

  Graham had done his research, and knew exactly why the man had been locked up, but he shook his head.

  “I got me another girl, Angel. She started seeing a country boy, much like yourself.”

  Graham’s gut tightened.

  “One day, Angel didn’t come home after school. So I decided to go out and look for her.” Seamus took another puff from his cigarette. “As luck had it, another group o’ Travellers had run across her and him in a restaurant, much like the one where I found you and Helena. With one big difference. Angel was in the storeroom with the boy, doing things a Traveller girl should know nothin’ about.”

  There was an awkward silence.

  “I’ve never been more ashamed of one of my girls. In a single second, every dream I’d had for her went down the pisser. I thought her mam would never get over the shame.” Seamus ran his fingers over his puffy black eye. “In fact, I don’t think she has. That was hard on her. Angel had a real special place in Cora’s heart.”

  Seamus dropped the half-smoked fag and smashed it with the heel of his boot. “I had to do somethin’. I couldn’t let it go without some type of retribution.

  “I put that lad in the hospital. Nearly killed him. Broke his jaw and cheek. Before I was done, I’d slugged Angel too.” The stack of bundles shifted as Seamus sat down on top and put his head in his hands. “I ain’t never hit one of my kids. It was an accident. She moved to get in the way. She’s never forgiven me for what happened that day. I can’t say I’ve forgiven myself.”

  “It was a mistake… We all make mistakes, Seamus,” Graham said, trying to make him feel better.

  Seamus shook his head, dismissing the attempt to comfort him. “I shoulda never gone after that boy. Angel made a choice. I shoulda taught her better, or talked to her about what she was doing wrong. Instead, I lost my freedom, my life, and my family all in a few moments.”

  “Why did you do it?”

  Seamus looked up at him, pain in his eyes. “I thought I had to. It was the only way I knew to handle something like that. It’s the Traveller way. If I hadn’t done what I did, me and my fam would never be able to hold our heads up around other gypsies.”

  “Is the boy okay?”

  “Aye. He and Angel have a place over in Rathkeale.” Seamus stood up and lifted a bundle of straw and slung it over his shoulder. “I’m sorry about last night. Cora asked where Helena was, and I let it slip. By the time she was done ranting, she had me thinkin’ that I had another mess like Angel. All that anger came rushin’ back. I know you didn’t have no bad ideas. I just don’t want to be losin’ my family or my gra. They need me too much. Things went to hell when I was gone.”

  He walked to the bottom of the ladder and turned back to face Graham. “I gotta do what’s right for my fam. Things got to change.”

  Graham’s gut ached. “Does that mean you’re going to make Helena quit?”

  “Unfortunately, her mam surprised us all a little last night. We had some visitors who want to start havin’ a say in Helena’s life.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Seamus made his way up the ladder. “Cora arranged for Helena to be married off to anoth
er Traveller. A boy named Brian.”

  Graham sank down upon the stack of straw. “It’ll kill her.”

  “She’s a strong girl.” Seamus dropped the bundle on the roof. “But you don’t think she wants to get married?”

  “I don’t know what she wants, but I know she doesn’t need to be bartered off like a bloody lamb.”

  “Is that right?” A sly grin appeared on Seamus’s face. “Then what’re ya going to do about it? Her mam’s already picked out the dress… A real big fancy one, with gems and everything.”

  “But… you just said you didn’t want Helena to see me anymore—that you hated country boys. And now you’re telling me to go after her? Are you putting me on?”

  “You didn’t let me finish what I was saying.” The straw crunched as Seamus tied the wire around them. “When I was in prison I learned that just because you got taught something, that didn’t make it right. My da and culture always taught me gorgers and Travellers shouldn’t have no part of each other, but times are changing. The way of the Traveller needs to change too. Our girls need to get their book learning. And they need to marry the men they love.”

  Graham stood up. “You think she loves me?”

  “I saw the way she was lookin’ at ya last night.” Seamus smiled. “Unfortunately, her mam has ideas, and to save my marriage and my family, and I can’t be going against Cora. But if Helena chases her dreams, I ain’t gonna be the one to stop her. Or you. ”

  “Do you think you can handle this thatching by yourself?”

  “Go on. Go after her.” Seamus motioned toward the manor.

  Graham turned away.

  “Wait. One more thing,” Seamus called after him.

  He looked back.

  “Do right by my gra. Don’t make me regret trustin’ you. Helena’s a real smart girl. I want you to treat her like the princess she is. And don’t be tellin’ her I said nothing.”

  Graham nodded, and sprinted toward the kitchens.

  • • •

  Helena pulled the studier out of the paper bag and stood it against the kitchen’s stainless steel wall so she could read it as she chopped the veg.

  The words on the pages were clear, but as Helena looked at the book, all she could think of was Graham. She was going to have to tell him that her mam had arranged for her to be married. He needed to know she was going to have to quit her job… and that she would never be able to see him again.

  When she had seen Graham that morning, she hadn’t been able to look at him. There were too many emotions running through her mind after their time together. She wanted to be there for him, to help him, and—above all—be near him.

  But it didn’t matter what she wanted; it couldn’t happen. Mam had made a deal.

  Helena pulled a knife from the block, grabbed a carrot, and began to chop. There was nothing better than a little work to help clear the mind. The knife thumped against the board as she slashed at the innocent veg.

  “What’s going on here? Are you trying to kill the carrot or chop it?” Mary walked up next to her and took the knife from her hands. She started to chop in fine, well-practiced motions. “You’ve been off all day. You upset about Chester?”

  “Chester?” How had she forgotten about Chester? She’d gotten so wrapped up in her self-pity she had forgotten the real tragedy that had occurred. “Oh, aye.”

  “It’s okay to be upset, lass.” Mary’s gaze moved to the place on the floor that had only recently been covered in the man’s blood. “I still can’t believe he’s gone.”

  “Is his fam doin’ okay?” Helena asked, picking up a new knife and continuing to chop.

  “His wife’s sick. She doesn’t know about what happened. She wouldn’t understand.”

  “Oh. Is she in the infirmary?”

  Mary’s eyes widened, and she looked around to make sure no one was listening. “We don’t talk about that place in public.”

  “Oh… I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay.”

  They chopped in silence.

  “So,” Helena started, “do the guards have any leads?”

  Mary motioned for Helena to come closer. “I heard them talking. They think Chester committed suicide—something about slash marks on his wrists—but if you ask me, it was murder. They didn’t even find a knife. Those cops are about as much use as a tit on a bull if you ask me… How can a man commit suicide, and the knife disappear?”

  “That doesn’t make sense.”

  “Aye. I know, lass. But they seem to think that he may have hidden the knife. If you ask me, Mr. Shane called the cops off. Don’t look good havin’ a murder here right before the tourist season. Chester was one hell of a grump, but he wouldn’t go offing himself.”

  “Who do you think would want to have him killed?”

  “He and I were real good friends, and as far as I know no one here had a grudge against him. He normally kept to himself. Did a real fine job here in the kitchen. I don’t know why anyone would have wanted to hurt him.”

  Even if Mary was Chester’s friend, it didn’t mean she knew everything. Everyone Helena had met in this place seemed to have lies in their hearts or secrets on their lips.

  Mary pointed at the studier with her knife. “What’s this?”

  “I’m tryin’ to study for my exams. They’re comin’ up next week.”

  She wiped her hands on her apron. “Well, best of luck. Just make sure you don’t go cutting off a finger when you’re reading. I don’t want blood on the food.” Mary smiled.

  “I’ll be careful.”

  The kitchen matron strode off across the room and set to work preparing the sandwiches for high tea. Helena went through a series of grammar questions as she continued to chop.

  Before long, the carrots were sliced and she had made her way through the entire grammar test. She flipped the page and looked over the answers. With the exception of cumulative adjectives, she had done well.

  She dumped the carrots into a plastic bin and stowed them in the cooler for later. A stack of tomatoes sat on the prep counter, waiting for her when she returned to her station.

  Even though it was only carrots, onions, and celery and the like that she chopped each day, the job gave her a sense of fulfillment. She loved completing a task. It had been that way even when she’d been at home, but it felt more important now that she worked for a boss. If she had to get married in a few weeks, at least she knew she had done something for herself.

  On to the math problems. Helena pushed the knife down into the soft red flesh of the tomato as she leaned in to read a number on the page. Juice squirted from the tomato, splashing everything around it with sticky juice and seeds.

  “Such an eejit,” she mumbled under her breath.

  Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing Graham hadn’t gotten the chance to see her eat at the restaurant. She would have been mortified if he had seen her do something like squirt tomato juice down the front of her jacket. She whirled around to grab a towel to wipe off her jacket.

  As she turned, she crashed into someone. “Pardon.” She looked up into Graham’s sparkling eyes.

  “I can see you’re busy.” He pointed at the little seeds dribbling down her jacket. “But I was hoping we could try again. Maybe lunch?”

  Her cheeks burned. “I’m surprised you want to have anythin’ to do with me after last night. It’s not every day that you get busted in on by a girl’s fam.”

  Graham’s smile lessened. “Your dad’s protective. If you were mine, I’d be protective too.”

  The flame of embarrassment that warmed her face grew hotter. “Well, I didn’t bring a lunch.” Helena grabbed a towel and tried to dab at the stain on her jacket as she tried to hide her growing chagrin.

  “That’s fine. I can talk to Mary; maybe she’ll let us grab a few bits and cut out for an hour. I’ll take you out onto the estate and we can find a quiet spot and have a picnic.”

  First he had talked about her “being his” and now he was asking her
on a date? There was no way she could compromise her reputation within the Traveller community any more than she already had. The neighbors must have heard Mam and Da getting after her last night. Without a doubt, word was probably starting to spread about Mam finding her in a restaurant with Graham.

  “I don’t think that’s a great idea, Graham. I need to study.”

  “I can help. We can just have a spot of lunch in the dining hall. I need to talk to you.”

  She nodded. She needed to speak to him too; and from the hopeful, bright-eyed look on his face, she knew she was probably going to break his heart.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Helena sat across from him at the table, her attention on her studier. A tendril of hair flipped down into her face, but Graham resisted the urge to reach over and press it behind her ear. She had agreed to accompany him to lunch on the condition that he sat quietly while she studied. It was a concession he was willing to make, as long as he could sit with her. When she was ready, they could talk about everything that had happened.

  Graham couldn’t even imagine how she felt. She had so much going on in her life. A new place, a new job, exams—hell, everything in her life, even her understanding of herself, had changed in less than a week. She was lucky she wasn’t alongside Danny in the infirmary.

  A groan escaped her as she chewed on her lip.

  “You need some help? I can quiz you or something.”

  “This is ridiculous. I’m never gonna pass the bloody exams. What was I thinking?”

  Graham leaned over and read the question.

  Using a current event as a basis for argument, discuss the importance of economic stimulation in a bear market.

  Helena’s eyes were bloodshot and darker than he’d ever seen them. “I’m never gonna be ready for these exams,” she said. “I mean, I know the blasted answer—at least I think I do—but how am I gonna remember everything? I haven’t even made it to biology. This was such a stupid bloody idea. I should be happy just gettin’ done with secondary school and forget goin’ to university.”