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knew he did. He was in the baby class, the Reception and had loved every minute of it since the day he had started. ‘You might feel better too if you ate something,’ she said. ‘You must try. Not because of what that old bat will say and do, but because you will be ill if you don’t.’

      ‘I can’t eat, Molly,’ Kevin said. ‘I do try, honest. It’s just like I feel sort of full all the time.’

      Molly knew what her young brother was full of: misery and despair. She suffered these emotions herself. In fact sometimes, the enormity of the tragedy, and the uncertain and fear-filled future dangled before her, were almost overwhelming. She took Kevin’s hand, gave it a squeeze and said, ‘I know how you feel, Kev, honest I do, but you’ve got to eat or you will be really sick. Do your best, eh, for my sake?’

      Kevin nodded. ‘I will, Molly,’ he said firmly. ‘I’ll try really hard.’

      Not long after the children had left for school Biddy donned her coat and went out. Stan didn’t ask where because he didn’t care and, despite his concerns about Kevin’s health, in one way, he was glad he was at school and away from his grandmother.

      Biddy was making for the Social Services for she wanted to get the plans for taking the children away to go as speedily as possible. The authorities were delighted that there was a grandmother willing to take on the care of the orphaned Maguire children.

      However, it couldn’t be done as speedily as Biddy would have liked as, even with the backing of the Church, there were certain formalities to attend to and the first thing was that the children would have to be seen by a social worker. Biddy was annoyed at the delay, but there was nothing to be done about it and she sent a telegram to Tom, telling him that the business was taking longer than she thought.

      At least, she thought, as she made her way home, it will give me time to lick those children into shape and put some manners on them before I take them back to Ireland.

      The next day, Kevin collapsed in the playground at playtime. A doctor was summoned and he arranged to have him admitted to the General Hospital.

      ‘But why?’ Stan asked the secretary who had come with the message.

      She knew nothing further, though. ‘That’s all I was told, that he was being sent to the hospital.’

      ‘I suppose no one has thought to inform his sister in the Seniors?’

      ‘I should hardly think so, but that can be rectified if you think …’

      ‘No,’ Stan said. ‘Leave it as it is until I find out what is wrong with the child.’

      ‘I will come with you of course,’ Biddy said as Stan closed the door.

      ‘You’ll go nowhere with me,’ Stan thundered. ‘You are probably at the root of any problems Kevin has.’

      ‘You have no right. The welfare of the children is now my concern.’

      ‘Not yet it isn’t,’ Stan snapped. ‘And until it is official, I will decide what is best for them, and that, woman, is that.’

      He swung his jacket from the hook behind the door as he spoke, jammed his cap determinedly on his head and was through the door and away before Biddy had time to draw breath.

      She could have followed him, demand she go too. After all Stan had no right to stop her walking down the street, but she wasn’t ready to go out yet. She hadn’t even changed from her slippers and she decided to let the old fool go to the hospital on his own and find out that the child was just playing up, swinging the lead no doubt, to get more attention. By God when she got him to Ireland, he would soon find out what sort of attention he would get if he tried that caper.

      The doctor summoned to talk to Stan a little later didn’t think it was any sort of caper at all. Scrawny, undersized children were a common enough sight in most cities in those days, but Kevin wasn’t just skinny, he was gaunt.

      By the time Stan reached the hospital, the boy had regained consciousness and the doctor looked coldly at the old man coming to enquire about him. Most of the malnourished children he had treated had equally malnourished parents, but he noted that though the man before him was not fat, he looked robust and pretty healthy, and so he said quite scathingly, ‘This child is just skin and bone, and this state of affairs has been going on for some time. You must have been aware of it.’

      Stan nodded miserably. ‘Yes, I know,’ he said. ‘Kevin hasn’t eaten properly for days and to treat him properly, you need to know it all.’ He told the doctor of the tragedy that had befallen Kevin and his sister, and the arrival of Biddy, which had made Kevin worse.

      The doctor nodded. He had known from the beginning that it wasn’t malnutrition alone that dogged Kevin, but something deeper. ‘That explains a great deal,’ he told Stan.

      ‘Biddy intends to take the two children back to Ireland with her when all the formalities are completed,’ Stan said. ‘And the thought of that, and without me around to protect him from the woman’s viciousness, is terrifying Kevin.’

      ‘Can you not fight this?’ the doctor asked. ‘As his grandfather you have rights too, surely?’

      Stan shook his head. ‘Normally, I would fight tooth and nail, because I don’t mind telling you that when those children go, it will tear the heart from me, but I have come up against the brick wall of the Church.’

      And then, at the doctor’s quizzical look, he went on, ‘Nuala, my daughter-in-law was a Catholic and my son wasn’t, but both children were being brought up as Catholics. Now, with Nuala gone, their Irish grandmother is afraid they will backslide – or that is what she claims, anyway. And she has got the full support of the parish priest for her to take on the care of the children she seems to care not a fig about.’

      The doctor knew all about the power of religion, and the Catholic Church in particular, but still he said, ‘I am less concerned by your grandson’s immortal soul and more about his physical and mental well-being, and for the moment at any rate I want him in hospital. And even after this,’ he assured Stan, ‘I would block any moves to try to remove the child from your care, if I thought it was detrimental to him.’

      ‘I appreciate that, Doctor,’ Stan said.

      ‘And now I suppose you would like to see the child,’ the doctor said. ‘He has come round, but still seems a little bewildered. Maybe you can reassure him that we mean him no harm.’

      ‘I’ll do that, and welcome.’

      Kevin was delighted to see the familiar face of his grandfather, and not at all worried when he told him he was in hospital. He was relieved, and more so when his grandfather told him he had to stay there for a little while and only one thing worried him.

      ‘You won’t let my grandmother come and visit me will you?’ he pleaded.

      ‘Well, now, Kevin, I don’t know if I can rightly do that,’ Stan said awkwardly. ‘I mean, she is flesh and blood, after all.’

      Kevin was so crestfallen at the news that even in the hospital he wouldn’t be safe from his grandmother that Stan mentioned his request to the doctor before he left and was surprised by his response. ‘If you are right, and this woman’s arrival from Ireland has worsened Kevin’s condition, then her visiting him could undermine any treatment that he might be undergoing. And, as the care of the patient is paramount here, if this woman visits the hospital she will be blocked from the wards.’

      ‘You don’t know how much better that makes me feel,’ Stan said.

      The doctor smiled at him. ‘Your face gives you away,’ he said. ‘Don’t fret. Your grandson is safe here.’

      As the doctor watched Stan walk away, he felt a wave of sympathy wash over him. Sickness, tragedy, even death were part and parcel of his job and yet he felt that the little boy now in his care had suffered so grievously already he vowed to do all in his power not only to restore him to full health and strength, but also under the guardianship

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