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“Do you think it’s only Padraig then?” Mother Ross almost added, What about yourself? but she thought the better of it.
“Of course it is. Filling her head with all his Christian mumbo jumbo. The poor girl doesn’t know where she’s at. I warned Padraig when he first came back that he was to leave Caitlin alone. But he refused to listen to me. He’s defied me. And Caitlin herself has done little to discourage him. If she’s in trouble now, she’s brought it on herself.”
Finn’s lack of sympathy distressed Mother Ross.
He leaned back in his chair in an attitude of distaste for the whole situation. “It’s starting to affect Michael too. Have you noticed how moody he’s become? I don’t like it when Michael gets broody like that. He bottles everything up inside him until it explodes. If I were Padraig I’d be afraid for my life.”
Mother Ross looked at Finn in alarm. “Don’t say things like that, Finn, for God’s sake.”
Finn and Mother Ross were both silent, deep in thought. Then Finn said, “Padraig’s coming back here was a big mistake. It’s not going to work.”
“He asked for this parish, Finn,” Mother Ross said. “He knew Father Riordan was retiring. Liam Dooley encouraged him to apply for the living, using his knowledge of the parish and the people as supporting his request.”
“I know all that,” Finn declared. “And I know why Padraig wanted this parish. Stupid fool. He should have seen it would lead only to trouble. But Padraig’s worst failing, after his sickening self-righteousness, is his complete lack of sensitivity to the feelings of others.”
Mother Ross could not believe that she was listening to Finn MacLir. The bitterness, the anger, the malice: these were feelings Finn rarely showed. She did not know what to say and so remained unhappily silent.
Finn tried to control the anger that seethed in his breast. Then, half to himself, he muttered, “Damn you, Padraig. I never want to see you again.” The words were like stabs from a dagger, and the pain brought tears to the tired, watery eyes.
҂
Finn saw Padraig one more time just a few days later. The old man was drinking tea in his chair by the kitchen range when the priest came in on one of his regular visits.
“Sit down, Padraig,” Finn said, but his voice was unfriendly. “Jinnie’ll give you a mug of tea and a slice of fresh currant bannock, I’m sure.”
Libros Libertad 