Miracle Woman by Marita Conlon-Mckenna Page B

person went and she had the small study at the front of the house back to herself. Why in heaven’s name had she ever agreed to let one of them across her doorstep, let alone tried to help? If she didn’t believe that she could help she should have just got rid of them by threatening to call the traffic police and having them towed away instead of wasting her time and giving some credence to their belief.
    Mike was already home and he and the kids were sitting having dinner when she finally got to join them.
    â€˜I’m sorry for the delay, gang.’
    â€˜We got some chicken and wedges from the freezer,’ Mary Rose said. ‘There’s some for you left in the oven.’
    Patrick was busy eating but she knew from the way he avoided her eyes that he had given hisversion of events already to his father. Mike was hopeless at disguising anger or bad humour and the kids had picked it up and were eating as quickly as they could.
    â€˜Mom, were they all sick people who came to our house?’ enquired Alice.
    â€˜Yes, they were, honey. They hoped that Mommy could make them feel a bit better.’
    â€˜And did you?’
    â€˜I’m not sure, Alice, maybe.’
    She could see Mike’s jawline tense and she knew he was having a real hard time believing or accepting anything to do with her ability to heal people. Patrick finished first and refused dessert saying he had to work on an assignment for school. Mary Rose darted her a sympathetic look as she placed some plates in the dishwasher. Only Alice held out for a bowl of raspberry and vanilla ice-cream as Martha ate her own meal.
    Afterwards, sitting at the table, Martha braced herself for the expected tirade from her husband, knowing full well that his annoyance could no longer be hidden.
    â€˜What the hell, Martha! What the fuck? I come home from one hell of a day, and I mean one
hell
of a day with Bob and that new guy Roland breathing down my neck, and find a load of wackos in my home! Patrick was scared out of his wits this afternoon, and as for the girls I don’t know what they must think about their mother getting involved with these kind of people!’
    â€˜Mike, I know it’s scary. I didn’t ask or invite any of them. You know that!’
    â€˜I know it’s not your fault, Martha, but well, you’d better do something about it. It’s not fair on the kids or the neighbours.’
    Martha said nothing.
    So much for Mike’s telling her that this would all blow over and be forgotten about in a few days. Listening to those people today and laying her hands on them had in a strange way convinced her that somehow her work as a healer had only begun.

Chapter Ten
    ON WEDNESDAY MORNING Martha was glad to escape the phone calls and visitors and drive up to Highlands Animal Shelter, where she’d worked as a volunteer for almost three years. Things had gotten crazy since that journalist’s article and she’d been approached by four magazines, who wanted to do a feature on her. The local radio station had invited her in to the studio to do an interview but she’d refused, and she’d been asked to appear in an open forum discussion on
The Morning Show
about faith healing, which she had absolutely no intention of doing. Coming up here to walk the dogs and care for the animals seemed a lot more appealing.
    The small animal rescue centre was situated off Highway 128 on a piece of run-down land at the side of an old gas station. It wasn’t an ideal setting but the volunteers all did their best to find homes for the animals. For those that had lost all trust in humans and would never be likely to fit into livingwith one of that species again, they provided as good a care as they hoped a distressed animal needed.
    Martha usually worked from 8.30 to two o’clock and would do another morning if they were low on volunteers, covering for others during holidays and flu epidemics and the like. She