Read Bridie's Fire for Free Online Page B

one spoke to her as she drew close to the flame and warmed her hands. It was as if life was flowing back into her. She gazed into the embers, not speaking, a strange calm spreading through her as the warmth crept into her body. She’d been cold for so long.
    â€˜You’ll join us for something to warm the cockles of your heart as well, won’t you, child?’ asked a woman. She looked at Bridie with sharp blue eyes, and a network of little wrinkles creased her face as she smiled. Bridie stared disbelievingly and drew her wooden bowl and spoon out from under her dress and held it up. The woman nodded approval.
    The big pot was taken off the fire and everyone gathered round. The delicious smell made Bridie feel faint. The woman ladled out the rich broth.
    â€˜Now you mind, little one, not to eat too much nor too swift. When you’ve been fasting, your body’s not used to the shock of a good feed. Some poor souls kill themselves trying to eat too much too fast.’
    Bridie took tiny little sips of the broth and felt the warmth of it through every part of her body.
    â€˜And now you’ve supped with us, you’ll not tell anyone what you’ve had,’ said the old woman.
    â€˜It was a stolen sheep, wasn’t it?’ asked Bridie haltingly. ‘Can I take some for my mam and my brother? Just a peck of something. If you give me a bone with a bit of meat left on it, I could fix something for them.’
    â€˜Are you the little girl from the hut, west of the village?’
    â€˜To be sure, but we’re from Ballyickeen, above Dunquin,’ said Bridie, finally finding herself again. ‘We came to Dingle to be with my Aunt Mairead but she’d gone to America. Then my little brother died and Mam wouldn’t stay in the hut ’cause she said it’s where Paddy caught the fever and surely we’d all die if we stayed there, so we’re sleeping in a ditch up beyond the dunes.’ The words tumbled out in a rush.
    â€˜Bridie?’ came a voice through the mist. ‘Bridie O’Connor?’
    Mrs MacMahon stepped around from the far side of the fire. Bridie hardly recognised her. They’d not seen each other since the day her father had lain on the lid in the MacMahons’ cottage at Dunquin. ‘Where’s your mother, girl?’
    The fog was lifting and the harbour was azure in the morning sun as they walked over the dunes. Bridie led Mrs MacMahon to the ditch by the roadside. Curled in a huddle of rags at the bottom lay Mam and Brandon.
    Mrs MacMahon knelt down beside Mam and stroked her hair. ‘Maire, it’s Kitty MacMahon. We’re going to Tralee, Maire. You and your little ones must come along with us. There’s nothing here in Dingle for any of us, nothing but misery and grief – but the workhouse in Tralee might take us all in.’
    Mam gave a short cough, almost like a laugh. ‘Heaven help me, Kitty, I couldn’t walk to Tralee, I’m bound for the long road. But the children must go. Take the children. If I should get my strength back, I’ll follow you. You’re a fine friend to me, Kitty, a fine good woman, you are,’ she said, and then she lay back down in the dirt, trembling.
    Mrs MacMahon rested one hand on Mam’s brow and stroked it tenderly. ‘Now, you lay there a minute longer and rest yourself, Maire. Muiris and I won’t be leaving until all the mists have cleared. If you find your strength, you could join us.’
    Mrs MacMahon took Brandon by the hand and tried to lead him up out of the ditch, but he looked wild and tore his hand away, kneeling down beside his mother and burrowing his face against her side. Mrs MacMahon looked down and shook her head.
    â€˜We’ll wait on the beach for the children,’ she said, moving away from the edge of the ditch.
    Bridie knelt beside her mother and looked straight into her dark eyes. ‘Mam, we can wait until you’re stronger.