mary kate.jpg

For Love of Mary Kate

The Real Story

A compelling saga of love and courage spanning three generations Born illegitimate  in a convent in 1920's rural Ireland, her mother banished to new York to save the family name, little Mary Kate Quinn's future seems bleak. To keep a hastily made promise to her daughter, Sara Quinn rescues her granddaughter  from the fate of the orphanage.Driven to seek refuge in the rambling old house of her former employer Sara begins a new life. With patience and love  Sara and Mary Kate transform the lives of its inhabitants.Meanwhile Maura Quinn has become a nanny in New York. She falls in love with Andrew, and  rather than reveal the past she returns home to be reunited with her daughter. Back in Ireland Maura is torn between her child and the man she left in  New York..

Beyond The Fog

Hazel McIntyre is extremely proud and excited to share their latest work Beyond The Fog. The project might have been a lengthy one, but this was one story that really needed to be told.

Sample of the book

When Sara Quinn rounded the bend of the narrow road she saw the convent at the top off the hill, the mist blurring its harsh grey outline. The big iron gate gave a reluctant creak as she pushed it open. She stood in the gateway for a few seconds to gain her composure, all the while her lips moved in silent prayer. "Dear Lord, please let the child be born safely," she whispered. Walking to the door she pulled the bell rope and waited. A young pale faced nun peered out at her from the dark interior.
   "Can I help you?" she asked.
   "I’m Sara Quinn. I’ve come to see my daughter Maura."
   "Come in and I’ll see if Mother will see you," she said nervously.
   "There is no need for me to see the Mother Superior. Just take me to see my daughter. Has the baby been born?" Sara asked anxiously.
   "You will have to see Mother. You can wait for her in here," she replied, opening a door along the corridor.    Inside the sparsely furnished room Sara paced the floor nervously. Walking over to the small window overlooking the front gates, she watched a group of brown clad children walk past the gates with heads bent. A few paces behind them a young, somber looking nun stared straight ahead, Sara shuddered as she watched. "The orphans, poor wee souls," she said aloud. Just then the door opened behind her. Turning around, she was greeted by an elderly nun.
   "I am Mother General. Sister tells me that you are the Quinn girl’s mother."
   "Is she all right. Has the baby been born yet?"
   "Yes, the child is born and your daughter is fine. A girl was born this morning. Sit down Mrs. Quinn, we need to talk," she said showing her a chair in front of a big desk.
   "Please," Sara asked anxiously, "can I see them?"
   "You may see your daughter presently. But, before you go up I need to talk to you," she said. Again she pointed to the chair. Sitting down reluctantly, Sara met the cold gaze of the elderly individual seated opposite.
   "Before you see your daughter, I have a few things that I must tell you. As you are no doubt aware, your husband was adamant that the child should be brought up by the Sisters in the orphanage. So, I don’t want her to become attached to the infant. It will only make it harder when the time comes for parting."
   Cold eyes stared back at Sara as she spoke. Again she felt a shudder run down her spine, at the mention of the orphanage. The picture of the sad downcast, brown clad little bunch of humanity that she had just seen came back before her eyes.
   "I’m trying to change my husband’s mind about the orphanage. I want her to bring the child up herself. With our help of course," she added.
   "Children brought up in the orphanage are fed, clothed and well instructed in their faith. And many of them enter the convent in adult life. I feel in many ways that they have a better start than they would otherwise have growing up...under these circumstances. Anyhow, I very much doubt if your husband will change his mind."
   "Well, we will see. Can I see them now?"
   "You can see your daughter. But not the child. Your husband made the arrangements, and he was most insistent that you should not see the child."
   Sara felt again the deep anger towards her husband, an anger that was all consuming. Smiling across at the nun to hide her feelings, she said, "he was angry then. But, he is coming to terms with it better now. He just needs a little more time," she said gently as she looked into the eyes of the woman opposite, hoping that her lies were convincing.
   "Be that as it may. But until such times as I am given further instruction from him, I must obey his order." Once more their eyes met. The nun smiled a thin smile before she spoke again. "I will get one of the Sisters to take you to your daughter. Just wait here," she said from the doorway.
   Alone again Sara tried to control the deep anger inside her. "Damn you anyway John Quinn. Why are you punishing us?" she mouthed to the silent room. When Maura told her that Seamus, her cousin and neighbour had repeatedly molested her, she thought that her anger had reached its peak. Then when she tried to tell her husband John and he refused to believe her that anger spilled over to breaking point. The memory of his hateful words still rang in her ear. "Don’t lie to me. Seamus is my own flesh and blood, he never laid a hand on her. She will never put a foot inside this door again. She has brought disgrace on me and all belonging to me," he had shouted repeatedly at her. But now she must control her anger as she waited to see her daughter, somehow she must try to bring comfort to her only child, whose whole world had been torn apart at the tender age of sixteen. How could she tell her that her father refused to allow her name to be mentioned as though she had never existed, and that she had to lie about coming here today? She knew that she couldn’t tell her this; she had suffered enough already.From her position on the bed Maura Quinn watched the young nun as she bathed her new- born infant. She had spent hours alone in an agonizingly painful labour, and now she felt drained of all emotion. The baby’s cry seemed to come from a great distance while she watched, as if she were somehow an observer looking on from a distant place. Then suddenly the child was placed in her arms. She stared down at the tiny perfect creature, then she saw her bottom lip tremble, and in that instant a rush of unexpected love flooded through her. "I will call you Mary Kate," she said gently.    "She’s hungry," the nun said stiffly as she put her to her breast. "You can feed her yourself for the first few days. It will give her a better chance of survival. But after that you leave her in our care," she added. "We don’t want you getting attached to her, under the circumstances." She cleared her throat nervously and walked from the room.
   Alone Maura gazed at her new born daughter with a mixture of wonder, love and pity. She was mystified as to how a perfect little being like this could have come out of such a hateful union of fear and blackmail. "I have nothing to offer you, nothing," she whispered. The door suddenly burst open.
   "You have a visitor downstairs. I will take the child," the nun said breathlessly.
   "Please don’t take her away."
   "It’s orders, she is not allowed to stay. I will take her back at feeding time." From the doorway she looked back at Maura with a small tolerant smile.
   "You are so young, please, do as I say and forget about this wee one. To get attached will only cause you more grief. Just pray that the good Lord will help you to forget."
   Five minutes later the familiar face of her mother came into focus as she bent over her. The familiar comfort of her mother’s arms filled Maura with that special feeling of security that had so often soothed her worst fears in childhood.
   "The baby is so tiny and helpless, and so lovely." Her muffled voice sounded in Sara’s ears.
   "I want to go home with you, and take wee Mary Kate with me. The nuns keep telling me not to get attached to her. They say she will be taken to the orphanage." Her voice shook with sobs, and Sara felt a sharp pain rush through her. "Will he let me come home yet?" she asked. Freeing herself from her mother’s embrace she looked into her eyes. "Will he?" she asked again.
   "Not yet love. But I’m still working on it."
   "He still doesn’t believe me then," she said with a quiver in her voice. Sara shook her head slowly.    "I haven’t given up. He's a stubborn man, your father. But he’ll come round." Sara’s words sounded hollow in her own ears, for in her heart she knew that she could never persuade him to allow his daughter to come home with her child. She hoped the encouraging smile she gave her, hid her true feeling of sorrow and despair. All too soon it was time to say their farewells. "I will be back soon, very soon," Sara said gently.
   "Please beg him to let us come home." Her voice broke. "He must believe it wasn’t my fault."
   "I will try. Don’t worry, leave it to me. I will think of something," Sara said with a smile of encouragement.
   Outside, the mist was beginning to clear. Sara stood looking back at the convent, but the weak sunlight failed to add warmth to its grey walls. A fitful wind smelling of rain made the tall trees shiver and whisper quietly, like cold old men. Sara shivered, then walked with heavy steps down the bray towards the station.Three days after her mother’s visit Maura was moved to a small room at the other side of the convent. The nuns had stopped bringing the baby to her to be fed. As she stared at the crucifix on the opposite wall, she felt sure that she could faintly hear Mary Kate’s cry. The sudden loud voice of Sister Mary coming from the other side of the door made her jump.
   "Mother wants to see you now," she said poking her head around the door. "Come, I’ll take you down to her. Maura stood up unsteadily.
   "What does she want me for?"
   "Well I’m not.. er.. allowed to say," she said, sounding nervous.
   As she followed Sister Mary down the stairs she wondered what lay behind the sudden summons to see The Mother General. More than anything else she wanted to go home with her baby. Try as she might, she could not remember how long it had been since her father left her here. The nuns had for the most part treated her with cold indifference; it was almost as if they were afraid to show her any affection. When they reached the bottom of the stairs they both stood at the Mother's door. A thin smile formed on the nun’s lips as she knocked.
   "Come in."
   "I’ve brought Maura Quinn, Mother. Will you be needing me again?" she asked.
   "Yes, Sister, I’ll call you when its time" she added, nodding at her. "Sit down here, I have something important to tell you, about your future." She pointed to the chair in front of the big desk. Maura walked over and sat down apprehensively. Across the desk the elderly nun looked at her for a few moments, then clearing her throat she broke the silence. "Your father came here a few days ago to discuss your future" she began. "A decision was made, which I am now going to tell you about." Maura waited without taking her eyes from her face. "I have a boat ticket that your father bought for you. A single ticket to New York. The passenger ship leaves on this afternoon’s tide, so you see there is no time to lose in getting your belongings together," she looked Maura straight in the face, showing no emotion.
   "But my baby! I can’t go without her, and I must see my mother first. Why did you wait until now to tell me this?" her voice shook with emotion as she struggled to keep back her tears.
   "We decided it was best to wait until now to tell you, as I rightly guessed your hysterical reaction. You are very lucky that the good Lord has seen fit to give you a new beginning my girl, and as for the baby, you know that it is out of the question to even, think about taking the baby with you." She began pacing up and down behind the desk as she spoke. "Thank God the baby will be looked after, and you can began a new life, and maybe, in time the good Lord will forgive you...for all this." She stopped pacing and accusingly waved her finger in Maura’s direction.Seated between two of the middle aged Sisters, Maura was driven to the quayside where the steamer was docked. With one Sister at each side of her, she was escorted towards the gang- plank. Then one of the Sisters went on ahead with the ticket in her hand. When they started to climb on board, she heard a familiar voice. Her heart leapt for joy, and within seconds she was in her mother’s arms, laughing and crying all at the one time.
   "The receipt for your ticket fell out of his pocket. Only for that, I wouldn’t have known where you had gone." The nun became flustered and agitated, as she clung on to Maura’s arm.
   "Come on, it’s time you were on board. We have to see you to your cabin as we were instructed," she called above the noise.
   "It’s all right. I will look after your baby until you get home again. Please love. Don’t cry. Write to me as soon as you arrive. Send the letters to Ballyneely care of Molly," her mother whispered in her ear, in her familiar soothing voice.
   "I don’t want to leave my baby. I don’t want to go" she sobbed. Then she was tugged away from her mother’s arms with the assistance of the second nun who had suddenly reappeared. When they reached the top of the gangplank, she looked down at the busy dock for her mother, but she had lost sight of her.
   "Come on child, we have to find your cabin yet," one of the nuns said crossly. When on board the gentler of the two nuns, asked one of the Stewards for directions to the cabin, and Maura was led stumbling along narrow corridors, and down staircase, after staircase to the bowel of the ship. They reached the cabin at last, and one of the nuns opened the door. The interior was small and poky, two bunk beds and a wash basin summed up the furnishings. A battered trunk sat on the floor.
   "It looks like your cabin companion has already been here. Sister and I will leave you now, we will wait at the bottom of the gang-plank until you sail". The gentler of the nuns turned back and kissed her on the cheek.
   "God bless you child," she said before closing the cabin door.
   Left alone Maura sat stiffly on the edge of the bunk, her thoughts running wildly around in her head. Suddenly she ran for the door, in panic she scurried along corridors and up flights of stairs. ‘Please God let her still be there’ she panted as she at last reached the deck. A huddled mass of passengers pressed against the rails of the middle deck, it was impossible for her to see beyond the backs of their heads. In desperation she ran towards the stairway leading to the upper deck. As she began climbing the stairs a steward blocked her way.
   "Sorry Miss, first class passengers only," he said.
   Back on the middle deck, she pushed her way to the front. She looked down desperately trying to catch a glimpse of her mother. The ship was already moving away from the quay, making it harder to distinguish one face from another. On the quayside she could see handkerchiefs fluttering like moths in the yellow evening light. Tears blinded her eyes, as she made her way back down to the cabin. When she opened the door, a young dark haired girl sat on the top bunk, her eyes red and swollen from crying.
   "Hello, I’m Hannah Mc Laughlin. We will be seeing a lot of one another for the next three weeks or so. I hope you don’t snore," she said with a grin. "I know your name already, I saw it on the label of your trunk. Your Maura Quinn," she added.
   "Hello Hannah, I’m glad to meet you," Maura said in a low strained voice. Taking a long look at her cabin companion, Hannah noted the brown eyes that seemed too large for her pale face, and the brown frock that hung over her skinny frame. ‘My mother would never have allowed me to go to America if I looked as pale and skinny as she does. But, she could be pretty, even beautiful if she wasn’t so pale and delicate,’ she thought to herself. Then she asked.
   "I’m going back out on the deck. Do you want to come?"
   "No, but thanks, I’ll just lie down for a wee while, I have a headache," Maura answered.
   "See you later then. I want to see the last sight of the land. My brothers and sisters said they would watch the ship, from Clonmore hill".
When the door closed, she lay alone and bewildered, the throb of the engine reminding her that she was moving unwillingly further away from all that she knew and loved.Maura lay on her bunk staring at the small porthole in the stuffy cabin. The ship lurched and tossed on the restless sea.
Hannah’s head hung down over the top bunk clutching her rosary beads tightly and praying loudly above the noise of the storm. She had not anticipated the fury of an Atlantic storm, when she decided to emigrate, to America. "There is a good demand for dressmakers in New York," Aunt Mary had assured her in her letter. As the ship heaved and tossed, she thought she would not survive to see either New York or Aunt Mary. In her terror, she was sure that the ship would sink.Maura lying in the bunk below felt no such panic. Her only prayers were for Mary Kate. She longed to hug her once more, and to feel her tiny hand clasp her finger. These were precious memories of the stolen moments she had spent with her in the convent nursery. "I didn’t expect to love you Mary Kate," she whispered to herself, making no attempt to wipe away her tears.
"Thank God we are still alive, the storm is over," Hannah’s shouts woke Maura from a heavy doze. Her head hung over the top bunk, her rosary beads dangling a few inches from Maura’s face. "I must get my clothes on quick, and go and see if there is any damage." She jumped down from her bunk in one leap.Maura smiled to herself at her new found friend’s energy and optimistic approach to life. Meeting Hannah had made life worth living again for Maura. She shuddered at the memory of her second night on board when she almost ended it all. Looking into the dark waters, it seemed the only answer to her pain. She had stood gazing into the dark water for what seemed like an eternity, her mind had become calm, almost a hypnotic state, when Hannah voice came from behind her.
   "What are you doing? God it’s freezing out here, you will catch your death." When she made no reply, and she caught sight of one foot on the middle rail, the horror of what Maura was contemplating dawned on Hannah. She grabbed her by the shoulders, then forced her back until her two feet were firmly on the deck. She struggled but Hannah’s physical strength overcame her resistance.
   "For God sake Maura! Tell me I’ve got it wrong, you weren’t thinking of ...." Hannah’s voice trailed off.
   "What if I was? Just leave me alone and mind your own business. Why did you stop me?" She broke into hysterical sobs, while Hannah continued to hold her in a tight grip.
   "Sure, it broke my heart leaving my home and my family too, but I had to go. I will be able to help them at home, when I get a job and can send some money, and so will you. It will be alright, you’ll see, and into the bargain, there is your immortal soul to think about," Hannah’s voice went on relentlessly, rocking Maura back and fourth, still holding her in a vice like grip. Hannah’s voice, firm and kind slowly penetrated Maura’s troubled mind, gradually her sobbing ceased. Hannah loosened her tight grip "Do you want to tell me about it? Come on down to the cabin and we’ll talk, that’s if you want to tell me." Not waiting for a reply she slowly guided Maura down the steps to the cabin. Hannah wondered again why fate had decided that she should have been chosen to share a cabin with this strange unhappy girl. She remembered seeing her for the first time the day they sailed. At first she noticed the grim faced nun holding the arm of the pale faced girl as they began climbing on board. Then she saw an older woman run towards them, they threw their arms around one another. The nun looked angry and tried to prise them apart, looking around her wildly as if, she was trying to summons help. Hannah had viewed this scene from the deck only now understanding its significance as Maura’s sad tale unraveled


Her First novel ‘For Love of Mary Kate’ set in Donegal and New York was launched in her native village of Culdaff. Described as a "compelling saga of love and courage spanning three generations," it is one of those books that cannot be put down. The following are a few of the early reactions from reviewers and readers.The story evolves around Mary Kate, how she is rescued from the nunnery.   

The reactions of the people who impinge on her life are lovingly told,together with the interaction of those involved."This is a simple tale. It is also very moving very powerful, very compelling".
Paul Cormacian - News Letter. December 1996 It’s a story of love and hate and a heart-warming story of life in 1920s Donegal a book you can’t put down until it's finished.