The Last Days of Newgate - Andrew Pepper [45]
‘Is it that obvious?’
That elicited a thin smile. ‘I was going to say you wouldn’t understand but I suppose that’d be stupid.’
‘So when his family, Stephen’s family, found out about their . . . attachment . . .’
‘Stephen’s not like them. Weren’t like them, I guess.’ She made no effort to conceal her pain. ‘His da was a big Orangeman in this wee village in County Armagh. So was his uncle and so was one of his brothers. All Orangemen and all bristlin’ with hate. Fact that Stephen turned out to be as normal as he was, that was a genuine, God-given miracle. They’re mean people, Mr Pyke. Full of hate and resentment. Never accept our right to live in our own country. Myself, I don’t much care for any religion.’
‘But they cared, didn’t they? And that’s the reason that Stephen and Clare came to London, to get away.’
Mary nodded. ‘No one would marry ’em in Ireland. For that matter, no one would marry ’em in England neither. Not ’less one of ’em converted.’ She shook her head. ‘Look, Mr Pyke. Even though Clare and Stephen mostly grew up in the country, they came to live in Belfast. It’s a busy town, a port, in Ulster.’
Pyke just nodded.
‘It’s not a bad town, as towns go. Quite open-minded, compared to the country. But even in Belfast, they weren’t far enough away . . .’ Her eyes started to well up. ‘I don’t guess you can ever run far enough away from that kind of hate.’
‘Only his family, the Magennises, they found out about Clare.’
‘Moment that she and your man heard of it, they were on the next steamship bound for Liverpool.’
‘And from there, they travelled south to London.’
Mary nodded. ‘Didn’t tell a soul where they were going. It was like the earth had swallowed ’em up. Then out of the blue, ’bout six months later, I got a letter from Clare, so I did. Tellin’ me where they were and sayin’ I could join up with them, if I wanted to. It weren’t like I had anything in Belfast to give up, apart from a job in a mill . . .’
‘So you left Belfast and travelled to London.’ Pyke waited for a moment before he asked whether she had been followed. But it seemed to upset her, the notion that she might have been responsible for leading members of Stephen’s family to London.
To fill the silence, Pyke asked her to tell him more about the family.
‘So, ’bout a month ago, I saw him, Stephen’s older brother, Davy, in London. In the name of almighty God, I almost died, almost keeled over there and then. Couldn’t miss him. A burly, ugly fellow. Country stock, you know, Mr Pyke. Now you got to understand me. I ain’t sayin’ country folk are all like Davy Magennis. He weren’t ever the brightest boy in the world but, see, he grew up around all these preachers, folks talkin’ about this massacre and that one, Catholics killing Protestants, what happened a hundred years before, like it was yesterday. He didn’t stand a chance, I suppose. He had hate beaten into him. That’s why I said you wouldn’t understand, Mr Pyke. This fear we have of the other lot. Now I’m from Belfast and I grew up around different people. Myself, I wouldn’t want to marry an Orangeman but I wouldn’t want to kill someone, if they felt different. But to Stephen’s folk, papists weren’t no better than whores and rapists.’
Pyke smiled at Mary. He decided she was older than he’d initially supposed. Older and more intelligent.
‘Tell me what you know about Davy.’
‘He was one of the first to join up to the new police force, the Irish Constabulary, when it was first set up in Ulster, ’bout seven years back. According to Stephen, your man was specially chosen. All it was, some fellow came visitin’, said the new force needed good strong Orangemen like Davy. I guess his da pulled a few strings. Made Davy feel important. Way of getting the boy out of the house. Stephen didn’t talk a whole lot ’bout his brother, Mr Pyke, but when he did, he spoke in a quiet voice, like he was terrified . . .’
‘And this Davy fellow, he’s been in the police ever since?’ Her expression darkened. ‘For a while anyhow.’
‘He’s not any more?’
Mary shook her head. ‘They had