Delaney. Part XXIX

St. Mary’s is packed on the morning of the internment of Mr. and Mrs. Cosgrove’s ashes. Many are there out of civil obligation – the corporate officials, fellow Care Home owners, merchants with whom Mr. Cosgrove worked over the years. And there are those in attendance who have come to curry favor with the important persons of the region. But a few are there for Delaney – Sinead, the Sisters of the Immaculate Conception, Father Fitzpatrick, Brother Doyle, and Frank.

Frank has seen Delaney only a few times since their falling out. Most of those times just briefly as he dropped Adrienne off to visit at Townley Hall before she had left Ireland. Then once when Frank brought a few of the orphan boys to pick sloe berries from the Blackthorn hedge. But that visit was weeks ago, and though he’s thought of her every day, their last real words together were sharp. Now to be here at such a tender moment, he is unsure how to approach her at the conclusion of the service. But he does not have to, she approaches him.

After nearly everyone has filed out Delaney spots Brother Frank standing at the back of the church. She excuses herself from the corporate official overseeing Care Homes who is in the middle of saying something to her and Mr. Murphey. Delaney marches purposefully toward Brother Frank. Her furrowed brow and the determined way in which she walks leaves him wondering if he is about to get another dressing down from her.

He can imagine Delaney saying, “How dare you come here after what you implied about my parents!” Or, “I suppose you’ve come to gloat!” But when she arrives, she falls upon the young friar, reaching up and wrapping her arms around his neck. Though they’re taller than they were ten years ago Frank still towers above her. Delaney hangs on him, burying her face in his shoulder, and he can feel the jerking of her sobs. Then he reaches around and places one hand between her shoulder blades and the other on the back of her head.

“Oh Brother,” she says between sobs. “I’m so lost.” And she repeats the statement several times and clings to him until she has exhausted all tears.

When Delaney pulls her head from his shoulder, she sees the wet mess she’s made. Wiping her nose with a tissue she chuckles and says,

“Sorry about that.”

He smiles and pulls her by the hand into one of the church pews to sit down. He’s learned to be quiet when pastoring the bereaved through moments of grief. That is not his natural disposition. He’s seen this practiced by Father Fitzpatrick and is trying to emulate the Father’s patience. So, he simply looks at her and waits for her to speak first.

“I have no idea what I’m doing.” She says. “Thankfully Mr. Byrne, Reilly and Cook have each taken on the myriad decisions at Townley Hall. I guess I didn’t realize how much my mum did.

“And Mr. Murphey has been happy to take over decision-making at the Care Home. A little too happy if you ask me. But I’m lost, Frank. Absolutely lost. Ownership of the Care Home has fallen to me since their death. Me! I didn’t ask for it. I didn’t even want it. I suppose I should have guessed it would end up in my hands, but … I don’t know … I thought somebody from the City of London Corporation would be in charge and would assign the Care Home to someone qualified. It didn’t dawn on me that this is the one thing in all the colonies that is privately owned.”

“Would you like to sell it?” Frank asks.

“Oh, I don’t know. In some ways, yes. But in other ways I wonder if Papa intended for me to run it. In the weeks before he died, he was introducing me to some of the operations. I was going to move from receiving to work in the garment factory.”

“Perhaps that is what he intended, but what do you want? You can choose to sell it if you want, or you can choose to run it exactly as your father did, or you can even choose to shut it down.”

“No. I could never shut it down. Not with people like Sister Mary Eunice being cared for there. And there’s too many children whose families would probably never take them back.”

“Perhaps the Sisters could take in the girls left behind, and the Friary could take in the boys. I’m simply saying that there are options should you choose.”

“I know, Brother, that you believe we all control the outcome of our lives. And I guess I believed that once too. But I wonder now just how much true choice we have. I feel boxed in, as though there are tall hedges on either side of the road and can only go forward or back. I need to keep moving forward.”

Brother Frank can see that this discussion has drifted from pastoral care, so he says,

“You don’t have to make any decisions right now. Just become present to your grief and let me know if there is anything I can do to help.

“And Delaney,” he adds. “I’m really sorry for how our last conversation ended. I wasn’t thinking. It was cruel of me to speak so insensitively. So thoughtlessly.”

Her conundrum over long term decisions is forgotten in this brief moment, and a wave of relief washes over her.

“Thank you for saying so. I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said. Not all of it was too far off the mark. I’m afraid I got a little defensive.”

“I don’t like being at odds with you.” He tells her. “I’m glad we can be friends again.”

“Me too.” She says. “And I guess there is one thing you can do.”

“Anything.” Brother Frank replies.

“Come visit. I just need a friend to take my mind off all the things screaming for my attention.”

“Of course.” He says.

“Maybe you could do that translation thing you talked about. I think you’ll find its just gibberish. But it’ll give me something to distract myself.”

“I’m on it!” He says, and the two stand up and slip to the aisle. “I’ll come tomorrow morning.”

“That would be nice.” She looks back to Mr. Murphey and the corporate official talking together and sighs. “I’d better get over there before the plot to take over the Care Home gets too thick.”

Frank embraces her once more and she lets him hold her for a long moment.

“I’m so sorry about your parents.” He tells her. “You know I was fond of them. Much as we disagreed over things, I did truly like them.”

“See you tomorrow?” She asks, too distracted to smile now that her thoughts have turned toward ownership of the Care Home.

“Tomorrow.” He says. “And I’ll work out that translation.”

****

Delaney invites Cook, Reilly and Mr. Byrne to sup with her. “It’ll be too quiet otherwise,” she tells them. So, the three keep Delaney occupied with the tellings of their respective days and she tries not to think about the big lonely house which she must face again tonight when everyone has gone to bed and she is left alone with her insomnia and her sorrow.

Reilly stands and peers out the dining room window. There is a tiny, flickering light coming from somewhere across the lawn.

“There are people out there,” he mutters, and all stand up to look out the window.

Reilly and Byrne grab Billy clubs and walk to the front door with Delaney and Cook close behind. When he opens the large doors, there, coming down the drive are a group of hooded men and women holding torches. The company stops in the driveway, then parts as one man moves to the front of the pack. He pulls the hood from his bald head and in the torchlight, they see the four, dark blue lines running from his lower lip, over a cleanly shaven chin, and disappearing into his tunic.

“Mr. Pankow?” Delaney recognizes him, not so much by his look but by his smell. Then she makes out the face of Mr. Vadik standing next to him.

Pankow drops to a knee and lowers his head. Mr. Vadik follows suit, then the other druids do the same. Delaney narrows her eyes as a memory dawns like a long-forgotten nightmare coming into focus.

“You’re the druid that tried to abduct me that night.”

“Not abduct, my lord. Protect.”

Mr. Byrne steps in front of Delaney, fear pulsing in synchrony with his courage. “You’re to leave these grounds.” He says, and he’d like to have said more but this is all he can manage.

Lord Pan stands back up and looks directly at the girl. “You can feel it can’t you? The fates. A divine spirit rising up inside you. But you realize that you have possessed it all along. Even as a child. The spirit of a goddess.”

Delaney is silent. Her emotions are enflamed. There is certainly an awareness of being different than everyone else. Of some kind of providence. But there is also a cloud of confusion swirling about. Like a puzzle which has only a few small sections pieced together.

“The Murder Factory.” Pan says. “You were meant to rule it. And we have waited many years for this day. The fulfilment of your destiny. We ask only for the privilege of serving you in your dominion. Of following our beloved goddess.”

Delaney considers this. There is something about his words that have a ring of truth. But she also knows there is something foul. Some kind of decomposition about the man.

“I wish to be left alone.” She says at last, and she says this with a growing sense of authority.

The grove of druids rise, and Lord Pan bows his head to her once more.

“Go.” She tells them. “I’ll let you know when I want to see you again.”

“We await your bidding, my lord.” Pan says to her. And the company turn together and walk down the drive, past the tall hedgerow of Blackthorn and off into the wood. After a moment, only a few flickers of light blink at Delaney as this strange turn of events churn in her soul.