Where the Wild Roses Grow Read online

  He was in complete denial. It wasn’t the first time he had denied the realities of life, and up until now, he had lived a life where people around him protected him. Mary Margaret wasn’t so sure they would do it any longer. Not this time.

  She, for one, was fed up with the old father and what he had put the community through time and time again. She had always been the first in line to tell people to protect him, to help him out, but not anymore.

  He had come to her when they found Bridget. He had told her how sad he was and sorry he was, but once Mary Margaret had told him she believed the death of Bridget was connected to the letter she had received, he had refused to believe her.

  “Mary, Mary. You are worried and upset about many things,” he had replied, quoting the Bible and the story of Martha.

  That had always been the father’s answer every time Mary Margaret had addressed her concerns about what they were doing. He had made her look like a fool for questioning his discernment. He had made her question herself. But not this time. Not anymore. She was done with him, and all she needed now was to keep this story from getting out.

  She had an ulterior motive for calling this meeting. It wasn’t only to calm the people’s concern or to discuss the death of Bridget like she had told them. No, she was waiting to find out if anyone among them had sent her the letter. No one else knew of what they had done. No one could have known unless they were one of them. She had told herself she could tell by their eyes or their faces or even the way they discussed the matter, and so far she had been able to exclude most of the townsfolk present in the living room. She was down to three people whom she believed could have been behind it all.

  Colleen Higgins, Ryanne Mulligan, or Inspector Grady. They were all three sitting in the corner, sipping their tea, and none of them had been participating in the meeting at all. Only Inspector Grady had spoken. He told them there was no evidence suggesting that Bridget was killed. The autopsy couldn’t rule out an accident or even suicide.

  That had Mary Margaret’s interest. Either he was just trying to calm all of them down and not spread the panic, or he was the one who had killed her and tried to cover it up before he moved on to his next victim.

  “I mean, why would anyone want to kill Bridget?” he argued.

  That was when Mary Margaret felt like pulling out the letter and having them all read it. But she didn’t. She wanted to keep it to herself. At least for now. At least as long as they didn’t know who the betrayer among them was.

  29

  October 1977

  She had no money and nowhere to go. Violet stormed out of the university campus holding her hand to her burning cheek, crying and sobbing. None of the people that passed her on their way cared enough to even look at her.

  She ran into the streets outside of campus and continued till she had to stop for breath. She sat on the pavement, watching the cars drive by, wondering what was to become of her and the baby.

  She looked up at the gray skies and prayed to God, or her mother, or whoever would listen, prayed for help. Three days passed with her wandering the streets of Dublin, sleeping in alleys or bus stops, eating whatever she could get someone to buy for her by standing outside the bakery.

  She thought about a lot of things as those days passed by. She thought about ending it all. Simply jumping in the river and making it all go away. But even if she was heartbroken, she wasn’t done living. She still believed life had something good for her, and maybe it wasn’t Conan or the life at the university. But there had to be something more than this for her, right?

  Violet thought about it while sitting outside a restaurant asking people for money until the manager came out and chased her away. This wasn’t a life. This wasn’t worth it. She wiped her nose on her sleeve while the realization came to pass. There was only one thing left for her. Only one place she could go.

  She had to go crawling back home.

  The mere thought of it made her skin crawl. She could still hear her father’s words when she had left the house. And those words had been keeping her from making the decision before now.

  I have no daughter.

  She felt a tear escape her eye once again while thinking about his harsh words. Would he ever forgive her? Would he let her come back in the house? Would he love her and take care of her again?

  I HAVE NO DAUGHTER ANYMORE!

  He had yelled so loudly, the words stayed imprinted on her mind.

  “Oh, Papa, I have failed, I have brought sin upon you and the rest of the family. Will you ever forgive me?” she mumbled towards the sky.

  She was so cold, so hungry, so miserable.

  There was only one way she could find out if there was forgiveness enough in her father’s heart for her. Violet reached into her wallet and found her last coin that she had kept for exactly this. She located a phone booth, then dialed her home number. Her oldest brother Brian picked up. She cried and could hardly speak between her loud sobs.

  “I’m so sorry for what I have done. I was a fool. Please let me come home. Please.”

  The silence that followed was unpleasant and unbearably long. A thousand emotions went through her mind. The fear of being rejected was the most persistent one.

  “Stay where you are,” he finally said. “We’ll come get you.”

  Violet hung up, then burst into tears. They were tears of sadness and of her broken heart, but they were also tears of relief. Help was on its way. Now all she had to do was to face her father’s wrath. She was willing to do that. Whatever it took.

  Half an hour later, her oldest brother drove up to the phone booth and stopped the car. In the back were two of her other brothers, Thomas and Bartley. They all got out of the car and took her in their arms. They hugged her for a long time, and Violet couldn’t stop crying.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said over and over again.

  Finally, they got in the car and drove off back towards Enniskerry. Never had Violet been so happy to see Dublin in the rearview mirror. She couldn’t wait to get back home to her room and her own bed and to be with people that truly cared for her. She was beginning to think that was where she belonged. Even if it meant she had to live as a farmer’s wife for the rest of her life. The city was no place for her.

  “How’s father?” she asked cautiously, once they were driving through the countryside again.

  “He’s mad,” Brian said.

  “Real mad,” Thomas said.

  “You broke his heart,” Bartley said.

  Violet felt bad. She felt really awful. Brian drove up the driveway to the farm and she got out with her heart pounding in her chest. Thomas put his arms around her as they approached the house. The front door was opened and her father came out. He stopped at the top of the stairs. Violet paused. Thomas pulled away. Violet stood by the end of the stairs looking up at her father.

  “Hi,” she said. Her voice was trembling.

  What happened next was so unexpected, it caught Violet completely off guard. She had thought a lot about what her father’s reaction would be, but this she had never dared to believe would happen.

  Her father stormed down the stairs towards her and took her in his arms. He held her for a long time and Violet closed her eyes. Finally, she understood what home was. She was never going to leave the farm again.

  30

  July 2015

  Ryanne was walking. With steady steadfast steps, she was walking through the forest along the Glencullen River. She didn’t feel well. As a matter of fact, she felt sick to her stomach. Not because of some stomach bug or something she had eaten. No, Ryanne knew it was something else. Something much deeper and harder to get rid of.

  Guilt.

  She knew the emotion very well, and over the years she had learned to recognize it and accept it as a life companion. But never had it taken a toll on her like it did now. Not since the body of Bridget Callaghan had shown up.

  Mary Margaret’s concerns and calling them all into this meeting earlier today didn
’t make matters better. When Ryanne heard about Bridget, she had immediately known that it was connected to what they had done.

  It had to be.

  It was only Inspector Grady’s words that had been able to calm her down. He had assured them there would be no further investigation to the death, that it was about to be ruled as an accident or possible suicide, that they didn’t have to worry. It had nothing to do with them or what they had done back then.

  Oh, the horror of knowing and having to live with it.

  It was for their own best, Ryanne. You know it was. It was the right thing even if it felt wrong.

  “What if someone knows?” Mary Margaret had asked at the meeting. “What if someone, maybe even one of us, has turned on us?”

  Most in the room had thought she was crazy for thinking like that.

  “Bridget Callaghan killing herself or falling in the water by accident and hurting her head, how can that have anything to do with us?” someone asked, while others nodded in agreement.

  Mary Margaret hadn’t been able to answer that, but Ryanne had a feeling she knew more than she said. There was no way she had called that meeting if she didn’t know something.

  “Ah, those fools!” Ryanne exclaimed and kicked some leaves on the ground. She growled and grumbled loudly. Being alone in the forest was like therapy for her. Out here, she could get her anger out, she could yell and scream and get mad at the trees, and no one would ever know. She wasn’t a woman to usually display any kind of emotions. Especially not anger.

  “We’re all going to hell for this, aren’t we? We’ll all burn for eternity, won’t we?” she asked into the vast emptiness.

  A bird lifted off from a treetop, startling her. Ryanne growled at it. She was sick of this sensation inside of her that was growing by the hour. The feeling that everything was about to crash down on them.

  Evil forebodings, Father Allen would call it. Signs that the end was near. And the end was near, wasn’t it?

  “We had it coming, didn’t we?” she mumbled and continued her walk along the river.

  Another bird caught her eye. Not because it was particularly beautiful. No, it caught her eye because it was a vulture. A big one. Not a bird you would usually see in these parts. And it wasn’t alone. At least three of them were circling the area, and more were landing on the rocks by the riverside.

  What were vultures doing here?

  Struck by one of her evil forebodings, Ryanne approached the riverbank cautiously. She could hear her own heartbeat as she spotted something in the water, something big that had been brought downstream, but gotten caught between two rocks. The vultures were taking turns and approaching it and picking at whatever stuck out of the water.

  What was that? Some dead animal?

  Carefully, Ryanne stepped a little closer to better see. As the realization of what it really was slowly sank in, Ryanne started shaking. It started in her hands, then slowly spread to her entire body, one limb at a time. She stared at the dead woman’s body, while her own was trembling in fear.

  A second later, she screamed. From the top of her lungs, she let out a terrifying scream echoing through the dense forest.

  31

  July 2015

  I had just taken a big bite of my corned beef sandwich when I heard the scream. I swallowed my bite and looked at Morten. We had been walking through the forest towards the waterfall, but decided to eat first. We had found a small clearing by the river. It was all very idyllic and romantic, until the scream pierced through the air.

  “What was that?” Morten asked.

  I shook my head and put down my sandwich. I was starving, so it wasn’t with my good will, but this had to be examined. It wasn’t just someone goofing around. This sounded really serious.

  “Lets’ check it out,” I said. “It didn’t sound that far away.”

  We got up and walked back to the trail. We started to run towards where the scream had come from. Not many seconds later, we spotted a woman standing by the river bank holding her head between her hands and staring at something in the water. Another couple out hiking approached her from the other side. The woman grabbed her by the shoulder and helped her get away from the bank. I walked closer to what she had been looking at, then took one glance at the body in the water and knew we were in trouble.

  “One more with the rose in her mouth, huh?” Morten said. “Guess you were right.”

  “As much as I love hearing those words, I would have preferred not to in this case,” I said.

  Morten found his phone in his pocket and called for the police. I approached the woman who had found the body. She was trembling heavily all over her body. Her face remained frozen in a scream. Her eyes were filled with terror.

  “Are you alright?” I asked.

  “…birds…in the water…vultures…”

  “What were you doing out here? Were you walking alone? Is there anyone we can call?” I asked.

  The other couple that had run to the scene were shaking their heads, the woman hiding her face in her husband’s embrace. They looked like tourists and had the Norwegian flag on their backpack. Meanwhile, the woman who had found the body seemed like a local.

  “Too young to die…why her?” the woman continued.

  “What’s your name?” I asked, trying to get her to think about something else.

  “R-r-ryan-n-n-e,” she said.

  “Alright, Ryanne. Now tell me, do you know this woman? You asked why her, does that mean you knew her?”

  Ryanne bit her lip and whimpered while nodding.

  “F-f-fiona D-d-delaney,” she said.

  I looked at the body in the water with the rose in her mouth. She looked a lot younger than Bridget Callaghan.

  “They’re on their way,” Morten said, and put the phone back in his pocket. “The police are coming.”

  “That’s good,” I said. “Now, Ryanne, is there anyone we can call for you, who can come here and be with you? A husband?”

  Ryanne shook her head.

  “Do you have any family that we can call? A sister? Brothers? Children?” I asked.

  “I have a son,” she finally replied.

  “Alright,” I said. “Do you want me to call him so he can help you get home once you’ve talked to the police? You shouldn’t be alone after this.”

  Ryanne looked at me. “That would be nice,” she said.

  32

  July 2015

  “You again?”

  Inspector Grady looked at me suspiciously. “It’s funny how you seem to appear every time we find a body, Mrs. Frost?”

  I couldn’t believe this guy. He had just arrived at the scene of crime and all he could think of was the fact that I was there again?

  “It’s Miss, and me being here is nothing but a coincidence. You know that perfectly well,” I said.

  He shrugged. “I’m just stating the obvious here, trying to figure out your role in all this.”

  “You need to talk to this woman over here,” I said, and pointed towards Ryanne, who was sitting on a rock hiding her face between her hands. I had called for her son to come. He was tied up right now, he said. He lived in Dublin and it was a long drive. He didn’t sound like he cared much about his mother. It was a little sad. I thought about Victor. I knew he would never be able to take care of me in my old age, but he had an excuse.

  Inspector Grady approached her. “Ryanne?” he said. He squatted down next to her and put his hand on her arm.

  “How are you doing here, Ryanne?” he asked.

  She lifted her head and looked at him. “How do you think I’m doing, you fool?”

  I was right in assuming they knew each other; I couldn’t say Ryanne was happy to see him, though.

  “This is it, Grady,” Ryanne said. “This is what we were trying to tell you. It’s happening. It’s the end.”

  Inspector Grady looked at me, and I could tell he didn’t like me listening in on their conversation. He spoke with a lower voice, but I could st
ill hear every word of what he said.

  “Let’s not panic here, Ryanne. Until we know more about what’s going on, we need to stay focused and calm, you hear me?”

  “Calm? Focused? How can I?” Ryanne said, louder than Inspector Grady thought was acceptable. He gave her an annoyed look.

  I couldn’t stop thinking he was being very selfish. The woman had, after all, just experienced death up close. It was one of those things that could change you for the rest of your life.

  “How can you say there is nothing to worry about? For all these years, Grady…for all this time we’ve kept quiet…and now this?”

  It was beginning to sound interesting. I tried to pretend like I wasn’t listening and looked at Morten instead, but something was going on here. And I had a feeling it was important.

  Meanwhile, two officers had managed to pull the body out of the water and were calling for the inspector to come.

  “Let’s discuss this later, Ryanne,” Grady said and got up. “You can go for now.”

  I followed him closely with my eyes. He kneeled next to the body and looked at the rose in her mouth. Then I heard him tell one of the officers to call the girl’s mother. They all seemed to know who she was. I even saw one of the officers wipe away a tear.

  I looked back at Ryanne. She was shaking her head and whimpering still. All the while, she kept mumbling the same words over and over again.

  “This is the end. It’s all over. It’s all over. This is the end.”

  33

  July 2015

  He was a popular man. Carrick Mulligan had many admirers. Most of them he had slept with at some point. Some he had just been dating. But what they all had in common was the fact that once they had tasted a little of the Carrick Mulligan-love, they would never be able to live without it.