10. Saoirse
Saoirse
The Last Goodbye
Patrick and Declan stare at me from across the table.
“Your Mam would’ve wanted you settled, Saoirse.”
Declan can hardly function behind his gigantic smirk. He pushes proof across the table.
“The lad’s dangerous, Saoirse. Killed the baker’s assistant stone cold dead. Murdered your uncle in cold blood.”
I glance at the photographs. The poor boy at the bakery will hold the door open for me no more. He’s dead, never to bake blaas again.
As for the letter Finn wrote, I glance through it. The flowing script informs me that he’s left without me. Because—and I quote verbatim from the letter here—“A game of chess doesn’t need a pawn to win.”
I push the photographs and the letter away. “And you’re fine with weaponizing the memory of me Mam like that, are you, Da?”
Declan replies on my Da’s behalf. “I’m waiting for your answer, Saoirse.”
“You want me to say yes to our engagement?”
His steel head nods.
“I have a few things I need to do first, Declan. You’ll get my answer after I’ve done them.”
***
I’m at St. Brendan’s chapel again, only this time, I’ve got one of Declan’s soldiers by my side. He puts cash in the box and tries to hand me a candle.
“I can do this myself!” It’s hard not to make everything I say now sound sharp. There will be no bloodthirsty boy skulking in the shadows for me tonight.
I light the candle in remembrance of my Mam. The flame flickers, and goes out. A thin line of smoke weaves up in the air like it’s lost and searching for something.
So, I light the candle a second time. This time it catches and the flame holds.
One Hail Mary, and I’m done.
“I want to go to the cemetery next.”
He drives me there. We don’t chat. I’m very much aware that everything I do or say gets reported back to Declan.
There is no kindness in the soldier’s attitude. He sees me as a job he’s got to do efficiently, that’s all.
Tidying up my Mam’s grave under the smoggy moonlight is healing. I know I’m just going through the motions, but they matter.
The bunch of white heather is dead and rotting. When I gingerly pick it up by the red ribbon between two fingers I find it holds no fragrance. The ancient gypsy part of me shivers.
My luck and protection is over and done.
“Would you have wanted me settled, Mam? Or would you have wanted me to be happy?”
I already know the answer, but I’m not about to share it with Lurch the bodyguard.
“Come on. Let’s go. Take me to Woodside.”
Without Mam and Maeve, this place doesn’t feel like a home to me anymore. I head to that part of the garden hidden by hedge and trees, to the compost heap.
Declan’s orchids are long gone. As for the bloody white cotton panties, they’re probably lying mired in compost juices and the bottom of the pile.
And that’s where my locket belongs too.
I pull the chain so hard the gold links cut the skin at the back of my neck. When I reach up to rub the burn my fingers come away covered with blood.
The locket gets thrown onto the rubbish dump of my history. I don’t stick around to watch where it falls. I won’t ever be coming back here.
I’ve still got Mam’s ring with the heart facing inward to warn everyone: I’m not available. Someone loves me.
Even if that someone sits in heaven at the right hand of God.
Declan and Da wait for me inside. Two big men, sitting at the table, pronouncing judgment on me and making decisions about my future. Which I, of course, will let them.
Under certain conditions.
“Bustle about, Saoirse.” Da’s impatient and antsy. He’s got an empire to give up and hand over, after all.
Their eyes get wide when I pull out a chair and sit.
“If you want the engagement and wedding to go ahead, then I want guarantees.”
They dart glances at one another, but it’s Declan who speaks. “You’ll do what your Da tells you to, Saoirse.”
My Da nods along as Declan launches into lecture mode. “If this merger wasn’t so strategically important, it’s saying something about your conduct I’d be doing right now—”
Oh, God. “Spare me the sermon. As if the two of you are such angels. Listen, I want a seat at the table. Permanently.”
Da jumps out of his seat like a scalded cat. “I didn’t raise you to be saucy, Saoirse!”
But Declan pulls him to sit back down and locks his gaze on me. “What brought on this sudden surge of confidence?”
One word. “Liam.”
Da fumbles the ball. “Liam’s gone to live with his family in the old-country—”
I cut him off the same way I pulled the locket off my neck. “Did he tell you all the channels he used to send his messages before you killed him?”
Silence. They’re dinosaurs. They have no idea how the younger generation chooses to chat online.
Leaning back in my chair, I face off with them. “Well, I do. And I’ll go to the cops with it too… If I don’t get a seat at the table and full voting rights.”
Declan doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t even look at Da. He nods.
I spit on my palm and hold out my hand. Declan does the same. We shake on the deal.
But the real shaking starts the second I’ve left the room.
I did it. I survived Finn O’Shea’s caged control. And I’ll do better than survive the cage Declan offers me. I thrive inside it—because now it has a door.
That innocent, gullible girl in the chapel is dead. What I am now was forged in the dark bedroom above the bakery. And that means Declan Maguire can never take what I’ve already given away.
This is my fresh start. Mine. My own. Alone.
Forever and ever.
Amen.