Songs of Love and War by Santa Montefiore

know, Mrs Doyle,’
she began, looking kindly at the widow through the smoke coming from Old Mrs Nagle’s clay pipe. ‘We’re not human beings having a spiritual experience, but spirits having a human
experience. Your Tomas will always be with you. Just because you can’t see him doesn’t mean he’s not here. He’s made of light now, like a rainbow, and he’s in a far
better place.’
    ‘Indeed, Tomas is with the Lord, Lady Deverill, and I am at peace,’ Mrs Doyle replied.
    Adeline handed Bridie a shoebox. ‘And this is from Lord Deverill. It’s a reward for you, Bridie, for your bravery. I know it won’t bring your father back, but I hope it will
give you some consolation.’ When she had gone Bridie opened the box to find a pair of shiny black patent-leather dancing shoes with big silver buckles. She gasped in wonder. Bridie had never
worn shoes before and the soles of her feet were as tough as hide. With her breath caught in her chest she put them on at once. ‘They’re a fine pair of shoes, Bridie,’ Sean said
softly, hoping Michael wouldn’t spoil the moment by accusing her of profiting from an incident that had led directly to their father’s death. But Michael had heeded Father Quinn’s
words and sat solemnly on a chair, biting his tongue.
    Bridie’s heart gave a little splutter as it was temporarily jolted back to life by the excitement of her first ever footwear. The shoes were slightly too big, which was fortunate because
that meant they’d last longer. She walked clumsily around the kitchen like a cart horse, trying to get used to the heaviness of the leather after the lightness of her bare feet, and the
feeling of having something hard against her skin. But she couldn’t take her eyes off them: they were the most magnificent things she had ever owned.
    Soon neighbours and friends arrived to pay their respects and Mrs Doyle offered them snuff, whiskey and Lord and Lady Deverill’s generous basket of food. Liam O’Leary came with his
wife, Julia, and Jack, nursing a shiny purple bruise on his cheek. He took off his cap and shook his head dolefully at the sight of poor Tomas Doyle. Julia, who believed herself much too grand to
enter such a humble abode, put a handkerchief to her nose and grimaced at the sight of the corpse, waxy in the candlelight.
    Liam O’Leary didn’t stay long, just enough time to have a drink and pay his respects. As he left, he blessed himself with the bottle of holy water Mrs Doyle always kept by the door,
along with the sprig of palm from Palm Sunday. Julia ignored the water: she was eager to be as far away as possible from the miserable cottage and the corpse inside it.
    Bridie was pleased to see Jack and gave him more sympathy for his bruise than his mother had done. He noticed her shoes at once. ‘Lord Deverill gave me a beagle,’ he told her.
‘Mother wanted me to give it back.’
    ‘Why?’ Bridie asked in astonishment.
    ‘I don’t know, but she doesn’t like the Deverills.’
    ‘Will you give it back?’
    He grinned raffishly. ‘Not on your life, Bridie. A reward’s a reward and I earned it.’ He ran rough fingers over his jaw.
    ‘Does it hurt?’ Bridie asked.
    ‘It sure does.’ He glanced at Tomas lying on the table and shook his head. ‘But I’m lucky to be alive, Bridie. Your poor da, God rest his soul.’
    The following day the entire town came out for the funeral and the sun shone down as if Tomas himself had made it so. ‘Happy is the corpse that the sun shines on,’
they all said as they made their way into All Saints Church. Every chair was taken and barely an inch of stone floor was left free for an extra pair of feet. Mrs Doyle sat in the front with her
family, dignified in her black shawl and dress, between her two sons with Bridie beside Sean in her new polished shoes. Father Quinn gave a rousing sermon, praising Tomas for his hard work and kind
heart and holding him up as an example to the rest of the community,