Rainbow's End by Katie Flynn Read Free Book Online

kitchen. She was older than Grainne had imagined her to be, tall and grey-haired, with a soft, foolish face and an irritating little laugh. She had a habit of blinking very rapidly when she was thinking and she was nervous, stammering as she talked, but she did not seem ill-disposed towards her visitor.
    ‘Me son W-William’s gone in to Ennis wit’ his f-father,’ she had said, once Grainne had introduced herself. ‘Me other boy, Talbot, is out searchin’ for beasts. There’s none here to help wit’ your s-search, Miss Feeney. Me daughter’s in the dairy . . . we’ve found a couple of cows, she’s m-milkin’ em.’
    ‘Why have they gone to Ennis?’ Grainne had asked boldly.
    ‘William’s hurt. He went out earlier, then turned back when the hurricane c-came upon him. He reached the wood’ – she sniffed and patted her eyes with a spotted handkerchief – ‘and a tree came crashin’ down. It banged him on the side of the h-head, broke his shoulder, pinned him there on the ground for hours. We found him at first light, no breath of life, no m-movement, nothing. But his father and brother c-carried him home and he c-came round . . . he’s gone to get his hurts seen to by the doctor.’
    ‘Oh, poor William,’ Grainne had said. ‘I’m glad he’s not too much hurt – and when they come back, may I ask you to beg William to come and visit us? The hurricane has all but destroyed us entirely.’
    Mrs McBride smiled for the first time. Was it triumph? Or was she as foolish as she seemed? Grainne could not tell on such short acquaintance.
    ‘Oh, he won’t b-be able to leave his own h-home for a long while yet. He’ll be busy here, findin’ our beasts, makin’ good the d-damage, for you aren’t the o-only ones to have s-suffered. I fear W-William won’t be walkin’ your way for w-weeks.’
    ‘Then I must find help elsewhere,’ Grainne said and turned towards the door, but just as she was about to open it her hostess called her back.
    ‘It’s cold; you’ve not even a shawl,’ she said. ‘I can spare a jug of m-milk . . . a loaf . . .’
    She piled food into a rush basket, but hurriedly, as though she was afraid of being caught, then flung a shawl around Grainne’s shoulders. It was made of thick, soft wool and was much finer than Grainne’s old one had been.
    ‘Thank you, Mrs McBride,’ Grainne said, bewildered by the older woman’s behaviour. ‘If William should ask, tell him we’re in need, would you?’
    ‘He’s not well,’ Mrs McBride said as though in answer. ‘Poor William, he won’t be walking your way for a while yet.’
    Shrugging to herself, Grainne had set off after another word of thanks and farewell, and now the currach was homeward bound, drifting with the stream. The little craft bounced along, needing only a touch now and then with the willow-branch to guide it, and all too soon Grainne and her basket of food were back at their own farmhouse, or what was left of it.
    And there she found Fidelma, with Roisin at her side, kneeling by her father and hugging him, whilst tears ran down her face.
    ‘We went into the cavern,’ Fidelma said when Grainne told her how she had searched for them. ‘Sure an’ didn’t you say to do so, Grainne? But it was frightenin’ outside, so it was, wit’ howlings and t’umps and bangs. And then Sorcha wailed so . . . she wanted to creep right to the back of the cavern, where we wouldn’t be able to hear the noise so well, or feel the wetness, for we were soon soaked,’ she added.
    ‘Did she run outside?’ Grainne said gently, when Fidelma stopped speaking and closed her eyes for a moment. ‘I know she’s dead, alanna, for I found her body not half a mile from here, in the water, floatin’.’
    ‘Ah, sweet Jesus, I knew it!’ Fidelma cried, rocking back and forth with grief, whilst Roisin wailed in unison. ‘Oh, me poor darlin’, me poor Sorcha!’
    ‘Don’t carry on, Fid,’ Grainne said rather sharply. ‘What