For the moment, our struggle is all that matters. Now shut up, Martin, and let me get on with my book,” and she returned to The MidnigTiJ Court.
THEY GOT OFF THE TRAIN AT CAR’iNFORTH. IT was desolate enough, hardly anyone about, rain drifting across the platform.
Ryan checked his watch. “There’s a local train to Barrow-in-Furness leaving in forty minutes. We’ll get a cup of tea. I need to talk to you both.” The cafe was deserted, only an aging woman serving behind the bar. Kathleen Ryan went and got the tea and brought it back on a tray.
“I mind the time when this station was open for business twenty-four hours,” Ryan said. “Steam en52 gines thundering through one after another.” He shook his head. “Everything changes.”
“You know the area well?” Keogh asked.
“Oh, yes, I’ve visited the Lake District a number of times over the years. I was up this way only four weeks ago.”
His niece said in genuine surprise, “I didn’t know that, Uncle Michael.”
“You thought I’d gone to Dublin,” Ryan said.
“Well, I didn’t. I was up here arranging things, and there’s a lot more you don’t know and now is the time for the telling.”
“Go on,” Keogh told him:
Ryan produced the Ordnance Survey map of the area, which they had consulted in London, and unfolded it. ·
“There’s Ravenglass on the coast. A bit of a winding road from Barrow to get there. Maybe twenty-five miles. Marsh End is about five miles soutbf Ravenglass.”
“So?” Keogh said.
“See here, to one side of Ravenglass, the valley running up into the mountains? Eskdale it’s called.
I’ve got what you might call friends there.”
“But you never told me that,” Kathleen said in astonishment.
“I’m telling you now,-am I not? Now, this is the way of it. My own cousin, Colin Power, had an English wife named Mary, a farmer’s daughter from Eskdale. Colin was a tenant farmer in County Down,
but when her parents died, the farm in Eskdale was left to her.”
“So they moved over?”
“Exactly. This was twenty years ago. They brought with them a young boy, Colin’s nephew, Benny. He had brain damage from birth. His parents wanted to put him in a home, but Mary, having no child of her own, took him on and raised him.”
“And they’re up there now in Eskdale?” Kathleen demanded.
“Right at the head of the valley. A remote, desolate place. Folly’s End it’s called, and that’s an apt name for it. Too much rain, too much wind. The sheep don’t thrive.” Ryan shrugged. “It was too much for Colin. He died’ of a heart attack five years ago. Only Mary and Benny to run the place.”
“A lot of work for two people, I would have thought,” Keogh said.
Ryan laughed out loud. “Just wait fill you see Benny.” At that moment the local train ‘pulled in at the platform and he glanced through the ‘indow.
“That’s us. Let’s get moving,” and he stood up and led the way out. THERE WERE ONLY A HANDFUL OF PASSENGERS getting off the train at Barrow-in-Furness. They went through the ticket barrier, passed into the concourse, and stood outside.
A voice called, “Uncle Michael, it’s me,” the words heavy and slurred.
There was an old Land Rover parked on the other side, and the man standing beside it was quite extraordinary.
He was at least six feet four in height and built like an ox with enormous shoulders. He wore a tweed cap and a shabby tweed suit with patches on the elbows. He rushed forward ‘eagerly, a childlike expression on the ‘fleshy face.
“It’s me, Uncle Michael,” he said again.
Michael gave him a brief hug. “Good man yourself, Benny. Is your aunt well?” “Very well. Looking forward to seeing you.” The words came out with difficulty, slow and measured.
Ryan said, “My niece, Kathleen. You and she will be cousins two or three times removed.” Benny pulled off his cap revealing a shock of untidy yellowing hair. He nodded beaming with pleasure.
“Kathleen.” She reached up and kissed his cheek. “It’s good to meet you.” He was overcome, nodding eagerly, and Ryan in troduced Keogh, who held out his hand. Benny’s grasp was so strong that Keogh grimaced with pain.