She was up a bit earlier than usual today, not that she had planned it that way. Kathleen Branson quietly padded down the hall pausing at the door to the bedroom where her soon to be daughter-in-law was sleeping. She was surprised that Sybil appeared to be sleeping so soundly for she would have thought the girl would be a bundle of nerves on this her wedding day.

Taking advantage of the quietness of the house, a very rare occurrence, Kathleen sat alone at her kitchen table drinking a mug of steaming tea. She looked around the battered wooden table that took up half of the floor space of the small room, her eyes lingering on the chair where her beloved Joe had always sat. It had been over ten years since he had last sat in that chair but Kathleen could still picture him there as if it was yesterday.

As she sat in the stillness of the early morning, enjoying the peace and quiet, sipping her tea, Kathleen's thoughts drifted to her son Tom.

Tommy reminded her so much of his father. He had the Branson good looks with his sparkling blue eyes and that cheeky grin. But it wasn't only his looks that reminded her of Joe but he also had much of Joe's personality too. Of all her children Kathleen Branson expected the most from her son Tom.

It is said that mothers love all their children equally and Kathleen Branson would certainly agree with this statement. Yet, as with most mothers, Kathleen acknowledged the differences in her children. Certainly Kate was the kindest and most warm-hearted while Connor was the grumpiest. Ciaran was the quietest while Sinead was an incessant talker. Tom was the smartest while Donal was the most spirited.

He was born on a lovely spring day, the kind of day that is all too rare in Ireland with a warm breeze gently blowing, billowy clouds dotting the sky, and not a drop of rain all day. As he was her fourth child in seven years, she knew what to expect and the labor was relatively easy though of course not without pain but it was mercifully short as if once he decided to enter this world he did so without delay and just four hours after the first contraction he was born.

Tomas Daniel Branson. They had decided on the name a month or two before his birth, he'd be named after both of his grandfathers. While he'd never meet Daniel Branson who had been in his grave for almost fifteen years, Tomas Garret was very much alive and would travel east from Althone to meet his newest grandchild the following month.

As Kathleen Branson held her newborn son, wearing only a cloth used as a nappy and wrapped in a soft cotton blanket, in her arms she relished the peace and quiet for seldom was the Branson house this quiet. The older Branson children had been sent five doors down to their Aunt Briana's house and they would remain there until later in the evening, after dinner and after their father Joe Branson had returned from work and spent a few minutes alone with his wife and newborn son.

Her sister Eileen arrived from Wicklow just before the birth and would stay for four or five days while Kathleen recovered from childbirth. Between Eileen, Briana, and the neighbors, meals would be cooked and the older Branson children looked after. But by the end of the week things would be back to normal in the Branson household albeit with one more mouth to feed and one more to add to the noise of the lively Branson family.

Tommy was usually awake by the time Kathleen finished dressing and she'd take him to the kitchen with her as she prepared breakfast. As she did every morning, Kathleen Branson rose early. Her husband would leave for the factory by 5 am to make it there for the start of his shift at 6. She always tried to fix him a hearty breakfast before packing his lunch, usually a sandwich on thick bread that she baked several times a week. If he was lucky the fillings might be leftover meat from the previous night's dinner but more likely it would be some cheese or pickled vegetables or when there had been unexpected expenses that week it might only be bread with butter.

This particular work day was special for it was Tommy's first birthday. With the scarce Branson finances, there would be no celebration with cake or gifts which seemed especially wasteful for a child too young to even understand what the day meant. However, Kathleen would acknowledge the day by taking Tommy to morning mass for a blessing from the parish priest.

Her face beaming, Kathleen watched as the old priest took her youngest son into his arms. As he said a prayer for the child's good health and life, Tommy stopped squirming and stared at the priest's face. Even when the priest laid his hand on the top of Tommy's head as he continued to pray for the child, Tommy continued to stare at the priest's face. When the priest finished and smiled at him, Tommy's face erupted into a big grin showing all four of his teeth.

Kathleen had always dreamed that if her life had been different, if she hadn't been born in a poor family where the children were expected to work as soon as they could hold a broom, that she would have become a school teacher. She had found a kindred soul in Joe Branson who dreamed of having a job where he used his brains instead of his brawn. Although neither would ever achieve their dreams, the poverty of their world was just to overpowering, they wanted their children to have the opportunities they never had so from a very young age the importance of an education was instilled in all the Branson children.

Since he was a toddler, Tom had displayed a curiosity and an interest in the world around him. Kathleen would swear he learned to talk earlier than her other children and she was sure he learned to walk earlier than her other children. It was as if he didn't want to miss out on what his older sister and brothers were doing and he wanted to be a part of it.

From an early age he had also displayed an interest in books. While many might think spending precious money on books was a frivolity, Joe and Kathleen didn't think so. Joe had built a small bookcase, it was only three shelves, but it was filled with books. One shelf contained only children's books which were considered precious commodities in the Branson household. Although he couldn't read, three year old Tommy would sit and look at each page of a book as if he could decipher the written words if he stared at them long enough.

Probably one of the most exciting days in his life was Tommy's first day at school. Much to her surprise, he was dressed and ready to go well before it was time to leave the house. Even the gentle teasing of his older brothers didn't dampen his spirits. She was happy that he came home from school just as excited showing her his notebook and pencil and while she prepared dinner he sat in the kitchen with her reliving his day in such detail that she was finished her work before he was finished telling about his day.

He retained his excitement for school and his love of learning as the years went by. She knew he often read far into the night but as long as he got up on time she wouldn't admonish him. Books filled his head with ideas especially in the area of politics and social justice but he was also drawn to stories of ancient civilizations and faraway places.

But books weren't the only love of Tom's for he developed an interest in motor cars which wasn't really surprising considering he had always had an interest in mechanical things especially how they worked. He had only been about five when he took apart an alarm clock to see how it worked. Unfortunately he wasn't so good at putting it back together. Yet that didn't deter young Tommy. When anything broke in the house, like a faucet that dripped or one of the rare children's toys, Tommy would be the one to try and fix it.

Although Kathleen and Joe were determined that none of their children would leave school to work in a factory, they did expect the boys to work for a couple of hours after school and on Saturdays. When Tom was ten he began working an hour every day after school and four hours on Saturdays at a grocer's where he stocked shelves, carried crates or swept the floors after closing time.

It was there that Tom got his first glimpses of a life outside his own neighborhood for the store was at the edge of their neighborhood and most of its business was for a neighborhood that was a bit wealthier than the Branson's. He saw children who came into the store after school who had the money to buy candy. The store carried fruits such as strawberries, peaches and nectarines and vegetables like celery and asparagus which had never or rarely graced the Branson dinner table since they were usually out of the Branson's price range. Mr. Hanaran, the owner, was a very nice man and impressed with Tom's willingness to work hard he let Tom take home fruit or vegetables that were too bruised or wilted or overripe to sell. That was a bigger bonus for the Branson than the few shillings Tom earned.

Although Tom liked working for Mr. Hanaran he was soon drawn to his love of motor cars and when he was twelve he left the grocer's to work on Saturdays at a garage. There he did the odds and ends such as fetching tools or polishing cars. He wasn't an apprentice so what he learned about motor cars was simply from paying attention to what was going on around him. He soon knew what tools were needed by a mechanic without having to be asked.

Even all these years later, Kathleen vividly remembered the day Joe Branson died. One morning he left for work, giving her a kiss goodbye as he always did, but he never came home again. That afternoon he had a heart attack while working on the plant floor. Joe was a good man, a loving father and husband, and Kathleen never truly got over his death.

The grief of losing her husband and her love was compounded by losing the family's income. By the time of his death her oldest two sons were finished school and working full time. The oldest, Connor, was in his third year traveling the world as a deck hand on a cargo ship. The family always readily devoured the letters and postcards he sent from every port of call. When such mail arrived, they'd sit together and read the letter or card and look at an atlas to mark exactly where he had been. At the time of his father's death, Connor hadn't been home in almost seven months and it would be another three months before his ship docked once again in Ireland.

To her everlasting regret, Joe's death had the most effect on Tom with the immediate result that he had to leave school at the age of fifteen and go to work full time. This broke Kathleen's heart as she thought that Tom would be the first of her children to attend university.

In the mysterious ways of the world, or God's Plan as Kathleen would say, it was fortuitous that Tom was working at the garage. He was able to begin working full time as a mechanic. Yet Tom wasn't satisfied with just working on motor cars, he also wanted to drive them. He talked the garage owner into letting him learn to drive saying that it would only be through driving a motor car that one would know if the problems had actually been fixed.

Kathleen stifled a laugh as she thought of the cheekiness of her son. But that was Tom, so confident in his abilities and his willingness to go after what he wanted.

Six years later Tom would leave Ireland for England. She hated that another of her sons would be leaving Ireland but she understood. The job of chauffeur at Downton paid almost twice what he had been earning as the chauffeur for that old lady. I'll only spend a few years there Ma he had said. Just long enough to save more money than I could ever do so here. That she could understand.

What she had never imagined that day she said goodbye to him at the ferry dock was the turn his life would take, that it would be years before he came back, and that when he returned to Ireland to live he wouldn't be alone.