The Family Way (Molly Murphy, #12)

After Bridie and I had shared a sundae in the soda fountain, we got into the trap, picked up the chicken from the butcher, and headed back to Elmsford. Bridie chatted excitedly about everything she’d seen—a man catching a big fish and a sudden breeze that had blown another man’s hat into the river and a fisherman who had managed to hook the hat and fish it out. And a girl had waved to her from the top deck of a paddle steamer. Her only regret was that she had not been allowed to swim like the little boys who jumped off the jetty.

I tried to be receptive and encouraging as she talked to me, as she had been a shy, reticent child until recently, but words were screaming in the recesses of my brain. Not Bridie’s words but Katy’s. Unless she had to leave in a real hurry. What would have made Maureen leave in such a hurry that she left her prized statue behind? Had someone turned up outside the front door? The young man she was hoping for, perhaps, saying, “Come with me now. I’ve a trap waiting and we can be far away before they find us?”

When I saw Katy again I must ask which of her things Maureen had actually taken with her. The hairbrush she could have overlooked in her haste. I’d left things behind before when I’d had to pack in a hurry. But the little statue—she’d have made sure she took that.

“Sorry, dear, what did you say?” I asked as Bridie’s words cut into my consciousness.

“You weren’t paying attention, Molly,” she said, giving me her best frown. “I was telling you that Jonah is going to teach me fishing and then I’ll catch fish for dinner. Right, Jonah?”

“That will be just grand,” I said. “Your daddy and brother would be proud of you.”

“They think I’m just a little kid and no use for anything,” she said.

“Then you’ll surprise them when they come home.”

There was a pause before she said quietly, “Do you think they’ll be home soon?”

“I really couldn’t say, sweetheart.” I stroked her hair. “I think it takes a long time to dig a canal across a continent.”

I heard the visible sigh of relief. “Because I want to stay with Mrs. Sullivan and you for a long, long time,” she said. “I want to go to a proper school and learn how to be a lady.”

“Of course you do, and you will.”

“I hope so,” she said and snuggled against me. I put an arm around her, and she fell asleep against me. I began to feel drowsy too until I was jolted awake by a most disturbing thought. Maybe Seth’s jokes had not been just idle chitchat but had some substance to them after all. What if the nuns had tried to force Maureen to take the veil and had locked her in a cell, from which she managed to escape and flee at the only time she could, while they were in chapel? That would explain why she had to leave behind her most precious possessions.

And I knew I could not let the matter lie. I had to find out what had happened to her some way or another.





Fifteen

When we got home I presented Mrs. Sullivan with the ribbon, the sugar, and the chicken. She nodded with satisfaction over the quality of the latter. “We’ll have that on Sunday then, shall we? Is there any chance Daniel might be able to come and join us?”

“I’ll write and ask him, if you like, but I doubt he’ll take time off when he has so much to do. From what I understand he’s trying to juggle several cases at once.”

She shook her head, making a tut-tutting noise. “If we’re not careful, he’ll be facing an early grave like my husband.”

“I think Daniel thrives on hard work,” I said. “I’ll write to him.”

“After you’ve had your lunch,” she said firmly. “It’s all laid out and ready in the dining room.”

The lunch was ham and salad, with newly baked rolls, followed by a plum tart and cream. I ate ravenously. I hadn’t realized how hungry my escapades had made me. Mrs. Sullivan looked on with approval. “That’s right. You’re eating for two now.”

Then she forced me upstairs to lie down. As soon as she had closed the door behind her I tiptoed to my writing case and took out paper and envelopes. Then I wrote my letters while lying on the bed. First I wrote a short note to Daniel saying that I’d had a pleasant excursion to the river, all was well and his mother hoped he could join us for lunch on Sunday. I added a postscript that I missed him. Then I wrote to Sid and Gus, describing the two inns (not the Green Gables or Sleepy Hollow, but The Lighthouse Inn and The Hideaway). I recommended The Lighthouse Inn as the upstairs rooms had a spectacular view across the Tappan Zee and it was not likely to be as noisy as the other, which was near the train station. In addition, the innkeeper seemed to be a pleasant woman, not too nosy and round enough to indicate that she was a good cook.