Once a Gypsy Page 4

  “Ya need to get your head on straight, Cora. I’ve only been back a week, and already you ain’t done nothing but complain. Ya need to stop worryin’ about me and Helena and start worryin’ about your other kids. You don’t want the womenfolk to know what a shitty-arse mam ya really are.”

  Mam’s jaw dropped, and she stepped back as if Da had punched her square in the gut. “I never…”

  “You never, all right… You’ve never been there for those kids. They need you, and yet you’re out here, badgering us. Get in the trailer and be a mam. ’Tis your last chance.”

  Mam stomped away and threw open the door. “Ya shoulda stayed behind those bars. You’ll never change, always a little rat who don’t care about nobody but his self. We were better off without ya.”

  The door slammed shut.

  “You don’t believe that do you, gra?” Da asked.

  “Nah, Da,” Helena stepped closer and took his weathered hand. “Everything will be as right as rain… We’ll go take the job. Mam will get better. You’ll see.”

  For a moment, she felt like she had as a child, lying in bed and wishing on dreams.

  Chapter Four

  Every time Graham saw his stepfather, John Shane, all he could think of was an American cowboy: tall, moody, and dangerous. His well-groomed dark brown hair was dappled with gray, the same color as the moustache which wrapped around his mouth in a sharp curve. His eyes were angry as he tapped his fingers against the top of his desk. No matter how long they’d been what most considered family, when it came right down to it, they were little more than business partners. If they hadn’t shared mutual interests in the people they loved, they would have fallen away from one another years ago.

  “You’re sure they have decided to come?” Mr. Shane growled.

  “Yes. They should be here anytime.”

  “You’ve been saying that all week.” Mr. Shane stared up at him from under his furrowed brow. “I don’t want any more incidents. You aren’t to be involved in any more fights.”

  Graham licked the cut on his lip where the gypsy had split it with a well-placed punch. “That was an accident, sir. I went in with the intention of offering Seamus the job and getting out of there, but they got the drop on me. It wasn’t Seamus’s fault.”

  Mr. Shane shook his head with disgust. “Did you at least get the information I requested?”

  “Yes. It doesn’t sound like all of Seamus’s children have supernatural abilities.”

  “That’s fine.” Mr. Shane leaned across his desk and pulled a cigar from his black humidor. “One Traveller and her father are more than enough to get what we need.”

  • • •

  On the outskirts of Adare Village, the sun-bleached gates marked the spread of land which would serve as Helena’s home for the foreseeable future. Across the government-owned square, the tall weeds leaned like broken men, their heads low and their arms limp. Overgrown trees surrounded the small camp, keeping them out of sight of the road and the judging eyes of the townspeople.

  Helena moved around the square, picking up dead branches and bits of discarded lumber and anything that would build a suitable cooking fire. The door to the trailer banged as Mam threw it open and walked outside. She grabbed a folding chair and sat it next to the fire pit facing Da, who was working on the propane lines under the trailer.

  “So you’re going to go to Adare Manor?” Mam flopped down in her chair like she was a judge taking her seat at court. “Just gonna up and leave? I shoulda known.”

  Da wiggled out from under the trailer and stood up. “First you wanted me to get a job, and now ya don’t want me to be leaving? Make up your fecking mind, woman.”

  “All you seem to be good at is leavin’ this family.”

  Helena moved toward them, careful to stay out of Mam’s range of vision.

  Da wiped his brow with a handkerchief. “I got better things to do than listen to your ramblings. Why don’t you run along and find a bottle?”

  “You arse. You don’t got no room to be judgin’ me.”

  Rionna opened the door and stared outside as Gavin scampered out from underneath her arm. The teen sneered at them as if she were Mam’s bailiff, ready to take down anyone who went against the magistrate.

  “By the way,” Da said, undeterred by the petulant Rionna, “I’ll be takin’ Helena with me.”

  He was answered with an unintelligible mix of profanity. Rionna grabbed a bottle of caramel-colored whiskey and carried it to Mam. She unscrewed the lid and took a long swig.

  Helena tried to stay unnoticed as she dumped the wood into the pit and started the fire in the ash-filled ring at the camp’s heart. While she struggled, Gavin ran through the weeds, letting them tear at his pants but never letting them slow him down. She envied those days, when Mam’s outbursts were frightening and loud, but forgotten by the end of the night.

  “I hope you got everything set up inside,” Da said, jamming his kerchief into his back pocket.

  “Helena can do it. She needs to be makin’ herself of some use before she runs off to be your wee helper.” Mam ran her hand under her bloodshot nose. “I don’t know why that little brat has to go with ya. She’d be of more use helpin’ round here, learnin’ how to be a proper wife while keepin’ after Rionna and Gavin.” Mam took another gulp. “I don’t know how ya expect me to keep after them all the time. They’re like fleas.”

  “Cora, our kids ain’t no fleas. They’re free spirits. And, for the most part, I’m proud of the little buggers. They’ve made do when things have been tough.” Da shook his head. “Rionna can help with Gavin. She’s old enough.”

  Mam snickered as she lifted her fingers from the bottle and licked the spilled booze off. “She’s got better things to do. Rionna’s got prospects.” She gave Helena a sideways glance.

  “Cora, did anyone ever tell ya that ya got a way of lookin’ at the world that couldn’t be more wrong than if it came out a dog’s arse?” Da motioned to Helena. “Let’s go, gra.”

  • • •

  Da drove the lorry out of the square and down the road, his eyes reflecting the storm that loomed overhead. They passed shop after shop on their way to the manor. On the side of the road was a sign which read “Welcome to Adare, Voted Ireland’s Most Picturesque Village.”

  On most days, Helena imagined the sign was bang on. The thatch-roofed cottages and shops in varying shades of blues and pinks were cheery and bright, but today the heavy clouds seemed to have smothered any joy the village hoped to create.

  A fat raindrop landed on the windshield, and the few remaining people in the streets retreated.

  “Heck of a day,” Da offered. “You know what they say: Rain on a big day is good luck.”

  “It was only a drop, Da.”

  No matter what Da said, they didn’t have any luck. Nothing good had come about—except Da’s job. Yet Helena couldn’t bring herself to trust the offer. It didn’t seem right, a manor looking to hire a Traveller. If she had to guess, by now the owner must have found out more about them, and she and Da would be turned away at the door. It had to have been an oversight that Da, a good man but a convict nonetheless, had been offered a job anywhere, let alone the prestigious Adare Manor.

  Perhaps this was all some sick joke.

  The lorry slowed as Da turned down the road leading to the gates. On the left stood a stone abbey, its steeple reaching up to the sky as if it waited for God’s blessing. On the right stood an unwelcoming stone wall; behind it were tall ash trees. Through their camouflaging leaves, bits of the granite manor flashed by.

  Coming to the gates, Da stopped the lorry and a security guard in a black suit stepped to the window and tapped the glass.

  Da hesitated for a moment. With a deep breath, he twisted the crank and opened the window.

  “Hello, sir,” the guard said. “May I ask why you are visiting the manor today?”

  Da’s fingers curled tightly around the steering wheel. “We’ve come about a spot of work.�
��

  “Really?” The guard stared at them. “Do you expect me to believe that? Why don’t you be moving along. This is a place of business, not somewhere you can come for a free spot of lunch.”

  “We’ve got an appointment. We’re to be seein’ Graham Kelly,” Da growled.

  The guard pushed a button on a walkie-talkie clipped to his lapel. Turning his back to them, he whispered something. After a moment, he walked to the granite wall and punched a code into the keypad. The gates swung open, and the man waved them through. When they drove by, he wouldn’t look them in the eye.

  “Da, are you sure you want to do this?”

  “Do what, gra?”

  “Work here.” Helena shifted in her seat. They didn’t belong there. The guard had made it clear; no one would ever see them for anything but untrustworthy gypsies. “Do you really want to work at this place?”

  “Lass, we have debts that need to be paid.”

  “What debts?”

  “Your mam had to borrow a lot of money from the O’Donoghues when I was away. If I know them, they’ll be comin’ to call. You know how those people can be.”

  Helena nodded. The O’Donoghues were amongst the foulest people of the Traveller community. They were known for their shady construction. It seemed they always were one step ahead of the guards.

  “Isn’t there something else you could be doing? Isn’t there a Traveller family who’d give you a construction job?”

  Da gave her a weak smile. “You know how those jobs can be—I’d have to be careful about who I went to work with. I can’t be riskin’ anything. I need somethin’ that will keep me out of the clink.”

  “But Da, there has to be somebody who’d be willin’ to help us get back on our feet.”

  “Gra, you know how it is. Don’t ya?” He looked over at her. “The world isn’t always kind to people like us. We have to fight to prove ’em wrong, lass. And takin’ this job is the best way I can see how. I get real wages at a job that won’t be under the guards’ microscope, and we can show these lairds what it really means to be gypsy—what it means to have a good heart… and to be free.”

  By God, she had missed her da.

  Helena sucked in a breath as they approached the granite citadel. It was immense and impressive, with tall green and red vines weaving up the stone surface and around the arched gothic windows. Each stone of the manor’s surface was smooth and unblemished, scarcely showing the ravages of time.

  On each side of the lorry were large gardens of salvia whose red, bobbing flowers seemed to be turned away from them, as if even they knew that she and Da shouldn’t have entered this place. Next to the unwelcoming flowers were long, weaving labyrinths of thorn-filled bushes. It was easy to imagine ladies in fine dresses walking through the gardens, reminiscent of days long past. Da pulled the lorry into the car park at the side of the manor and next to a gold-accented Rolls Royce.

  Along the top of the house, on the parapet, the stone was cut into letters and arranged to read, “Except The Lord Build The House Their Labour Is But Lost That Build It.”

  Helena recognized the words from Psalms, but what they meant she didn’t know. Was it a thank you to those who had built the house? Or a call to supremacy made by the laird? She looked over to Da, but knew she couldn’t ask him. He would be just as confused.

  Throughout her life, Helena had spent many a day begging for pocket change, or selling trinkets she and the children had made. She’d stood outside pubs and prisons, but never in her life had she felt more out of place—or unwelcome. Yet now was the time to stand up and walk proudly.

  On the left side of the manor, the door opened, and a man wearing a red tartan kilt stepped out. He smiled and brushed his dark chestnut-colored hair out of his face, exposing the yellow-and-brown edges of a healing bruise under his eye. Even marred from his fight, Graham was more handsome than she remembered.

  “Hello, and welcome to Adare Manor, Hotel, and Golf Course,” Graham said robotically. His gaze darted over to her, but quickly flashed back to Da. “I’m glad you’ve decided to take me up on my job offer—especially after the other night. I’m sorry for disrupting your party.”

  Da gave Graham’s hand a strong shake. “I must apologize for my clan. They get a bit rowdy—’specially when they think their toes are bein’ stepped on.” Da glanced at Graham’s face. “I always thought a split lip and a good shiner was the mark of a night well spent. I hope ya feel the same.”

  Graham licked the healing line on his lip and smiled. “It was a night to remember.”

  “What can I say? We Travellers like to have a good time in a bad way!” Da led the way to the castle, stopping by the door. “We are born and bred free and wild as the River Shannon. Or should I say the River Maigue?” He chuckled and motioned in the direction of the gurgling river that ran just north of where they stood.

  “Aye, yes… I’ve heard that before.” Graham glanced over at Helena.

  “I hope you don’t mind that my gra came along. She wanted to see the manor while the rest of the fam went about settin’ up camp.”

  “That’s fine,” Graham said, giving her a sly wink. She dropped her gaze to the ground. “So you know, you’re welcome to take up residence in one of our cottages at the edge of Adare Village. We have several that are currently vacant. It’s not a long walk, should you choose to live there.”

  Da looked over at Helena and smiled. “I think we’ll be fine in our trailer. Don’t want to be giving ya more work than ya already got. Where do you live?” he asked Graham.

  “Right now I’m staying behind the manor, in the groundskeeper’s old house. He passed last fall, and since then I’ve been trying to do some of his duties.”

  “I’m sorry to hear of his passing,” Helena offered.

  “He was a good man.” Graham turned to Da. “And I was hoping that you, Seamus, would be willing to take over his position as groundskeeper. What level of experience do you have?” His gaze moved over to Helena as if he were hoping she would have the answer he wanted.

  “I’ve done a bit of construction and a bit of hunting. Don’t tell the guards, but I’m damn fine at rustlin’ up fresh meat for Helena here.” He patted her arm. “And I got a bit of experience when it comes to layin’ tarmac.”

  “Would you be interested in working as our head groundskeeper?” Graham motioned toward the great house. “There is always something in this place that needs to be fixed. Think you’d be up to the task?”

  Da nodded. “Aye, but I won’t be askin’ when and where I can take a piss.”

  Helena flushed as Graham shook with laughter. “That’s good, because I don’t want to hold it for you.”

  Graham looked over and must have noticed her blushing. He reached over and touched her shoulder reassuringly. The second his fingers brushed against her it was as if a bomb had exploded inside of her. Visions and memories swirled, overtaking her and forcing her to close her eyes. Once again, she was outside of the prison, watching as Graham made his way down the concrete steps.

  Graham jerked away his hand as Helena opened her eyes. The world seemed to swirl around her like roiling water, and her legs wobbled like they were threatening to give out. She put her hand against the wall for support, trying to blink away the strange dream that had overtaken reality.

  A sense of weariness shrouded her, weighing her down.

  “Helena?” Graham moved toward her as if to take her arm to help support her, but he stopped and looked down at his hands.

  Had he felt the charge between them? Had he had a vision as well?

  Da stared at her, a look of worry on his face. “You okay, gra?”

  She dropped her hand from the wall, willing her body to regain its strength. “Aye, just fine, Da.”

  Graham stepped back. “You don’t have to stay. You can both come back tomorrow. I can go over your duties then.”

  Da stepped between them, blocking her from seeing Graham. “Don’t be worrying about Helena any. She’
s tougher than she looks. This job’s important to me… to both of us.”

  “I’m sure you’re right. As you know, we’d like to keep you both on staff as long as possible.” There was a touch of excitement in Graham’s voice, but Helena could have gotten it wrong. Maybe it was merely her imagination.

  Da glanced over at her nervously. “Aye, that’s kind of ya, Mr. Kelly, but Helena here is plannin’ on goin’ to university after she takes her exams.”

  Graham frowned, and darkness washed over his features. “When are your tests?”

  “Not long from now,” Helena replied. “I… I do appreciate what you’re doin’ for my fam and all, but—”

  “Education is a valuable thing,” he said, cutting her off. “Yet, sometimes the best thing in life, and the best way to learn, is by doing something that you can be passionate about. I believe, here at Adare Manor, we can provide you with an experience that will be both rich and fulfilling.”

  Da nodded with approval. “I tried to tell her the same thing—you learn by doin’, not by talkin’.”

  She bit her tongue. Her desire to go to university had little to do with book learning; rather, it was the only way for her to break from the grip of tradition. Da didn’t understand, and as rich and fulfilling as her work at the manor might be, she doubted that it would provide her with the escape that she needed.

  Graham sent her a thin smile, almost as if he could tell that she was holding back.

  She looked away from his gaze. Above the door, carved in the granite, were ancient-looking symbols of triangular family crests with stags, horses, swords, hammers, and runes. The markings reminded her of the druids.

  “’Tis a beautiful manor. When was it built?” Da asked, as if he too were embarrassed by the direction the conversation had taken.

  Graham stepped to the wooden bench beside the door, only a few steps from Helena. His scent, the familiar aroma of sweet grass and fresh air, wafted toward her. “This house was built in the 1700s, but the second Earl of Dunraven took over in the 1830s and turned the manor into what you see today. All the stone and wood in this castle has been handcrafted—and all are shrouded in a bit of mystery and symbolism.” Graham motioned toward the entrance.