The Girl From Paradise Alley (ARC)

by Sandy Taylor

  We crossed the bridge and followed the track to the farm. It was only the start of summer and yet the leaves were already starting to fall from the trees, drifting around us as we walked. I could see the farm up ahead and started walking faster. I loved visiting the farm and I loved seeing my Granny and Grandad Collins.

  ‘You’re awful lucky, Nora, to have a grand place like this to visit.’

  ‘I know I am, Kitty, but you can share it with me.’

  ‘Thanks, Nora.’

  Granny Collins was just coming out of the barn as we walked through the gate.

  ‘Be sure to close it behind you,’ she called.

  Me and Kitty made sure the gate was firmly latched, then I ran up to my granny.

  ‘Well, isn’t this a grand surprise?’ she said, hugging me. ‘And Kitty too. Come inside, the pair of you, for I have a grand apple cake just out of the oven.’

  ‘Thank you, Mrs Collins,’ said Kitty. ‘I’m desperate partial to a bit of apple cake.’

  The three of us walked across the yard and into the house. Kitty and me both dipped our finger into the holy water font that was just inside the door. We made the sign of the cross and sat down at the long table that took up most of the kitchen. A grand fire burned in the grate. Tommy, their old dog, was stretched out in front of it like a big black rug. When I was little, he would run to greet me, but now he just wagged his old tail and went back to sleep. The kitchen smelled of turf and apple cake and Granny and Grandad and I loved it as much as the Grey House, for it had always been like a second home to me.

  ‘And what brings you out this way, girls?’ asked Granny, cutting the cake and giving us a big slab each.

  ‘We’re looking for someone,’ I said, biting into the warm sponge.

  ‘And who might that be?’

  ‘Finn Casey,’ said Kitty, wiping away the apple that had dribbled down her chin.

  ‘He’s staying with Mr Lamey,’ I said.

  ‘Oh yes,’ said Granny. ‘I heard that Paddy’s nephew was staying for the summer.’

  ‘Is it near here?’ asked Kitty.

  ‘The Lameys’ cottage is just over the hill, so you’ll find it easy enough. What is this great interest in the boy? Isn’t he a bit old for you, Kitty?’ Granny had a cheeky smile on her face.

  ‘Finn is desperate handsome, Mrs Collins, and I’ve a mind to get to know him,’ said Kitty.

  Granny laughed. ‘You do right, Kitty, for he is a grand-looking lad. If I was sixty years younger and you a few years older, I’d give you a run for your money.’

  ‘Mammy said that you were a grand-looking woman in your day, Granny,’ I said.

  ‘And she still is,’ said Grandad Collins, coming into the kitchen and wiping his muddy boots on the mat.

  ‘Get away with you,’ said Granny, but she was smiling at him and she’d gone a bit red in the face.

  ‘They’re looking to visit the Lameys’ cottage,’ said Granny. ‘For they have an interest in the boy that is staying there.’

  ‘If you finish your cake, I’ll walk you to the top of the hill and show you where it is,’ said Grandad.

  ‘Thanks, Grandad,’ I said, putting the last bit of cake into my mouth. ‘That was a grand cake, Granny.’

  ‘Oh, it was, Mrs Collins,’ agreed Kitty.

  ‘You’re welcome. Now off you go and find your handsome lad, and may his nature be as pleasant as his face.’

  ‘Oh, it will be, Mrs Collins,’ said Kitty, ‘for goodness only shines out of him.’

  I looked at Kitty and made a face. ‘You only saw him for five minutes, Kitty, how could you tell what was shining out of him?’

  ‘I could just tell,’ she said. ‘God in His wisdom wouldn’t give a face like that to a rogue of a feller. Don’t you agree, Mrs Collins?’

  ‘Ah now, I wouldn’t like to say but I hope it all turns out fine for you. All I will say, Kitty, is don’t be swayed by a pretty face.’

  ‘Oh, I won’t, and thanks for the cake, it was mighty fine.’

  ‘Come and see us again, girls.’

  I hugged Granny and we followed Grandad out into the yard and up the hill that rose high above the back of the farm. As we reached the top of the hill, Grandad pointed down the valley to a low white cottage that nestled between a row of tall trees. ‘That’s the Lameys’,’ he said.

  ‘Thank you, Grandad,’ I said.

  ‘Oh yes, thank you, Mr Collins.’

  ‘You’re very welcome, girls. Now I think I’ll away and help myself to a slice of your granny’s apple cake.’

  ‘You do right,’ I said.

  ‘It’s as fine an apple cake as I have tasted,’ said Kitty.

  ‘Then I’m in for a treat,’ said Grandad, smiling at us.

  We watched him walk back down the hill to the farm.

  ‘Your grandad is a fine man, Nora,’ said Kitty.

  ‘He is, but he’s not my real grandad, you know.’

  ‘Is he not?’

  ‘My real grandad was a fine sailor, from a foreign land far across the sea, called Norway. One day he sailed into Ballybun and fell in love with my granny.’

  ‘That’s desperate romantic, Nora.’

  ‘I think so too. His name was Stefan. That’s why Mammy called my little brother Stevie, in memory of him.’

  ‘That was nice, Nora, and a fine way to honour a man who sailed the seas and came from such a lovely place. Do you have three grandads then?’

  I nodded. ‘One delivers the milk, one farms the land and the other sails the oceans.’

  ‘Then you are mighty fortunate. I only have one grandad and he doesn’t even know who I am half the time.’

  I put my arm round my friend and hugged her. ‘You can share mine, Kitty, and welcome.’

  ‘Thank you, Nora,’ she said.

  We sat on the grass and looked down at the cottage. There was no one about.

  ‘What do you want to do, Kitty?’

  ‘We’ll just sit here a while and see if Finn appears.’

  ‘Grand so,’ I said, linking my arm through hers.

  After we’d got bored staring at the cottage with no sign of Finn we lay down in the warm sunshine, staring up at the blue sky above our heads.

  ‘I don’t understand how you can have three grandads, Nora,’ said Kitty suddenly.

  ‘I don’t understand it myself,’ I said. ‘Mammy says the best way for me to get my head around it is to liken it to the Holy Trinity and just accept that it’s a mystery.’

  ‘I’ve never understood the Holy Trinity, Nora.’

  ‘And I was under the impression that you were two good Catholic girls,’ said a voice behind us.

  We both jumped up and saw Finn Casey coming up the hill towards us.

  ‘Jesus Mary and Holy Saint Joseph,’ said Kitty. ‘You shouldn’t be creeping up on people like that and frightening the bejeebers out of them. Sure, I nearly lost me apple cake.’

  ‘I’m sorry, girls,’ he said, smiling.

  ‘So you should be,’ said Kitty, smoothing down her dress.

  I thought he had a lovely smile and I thought he had lovely eyes. I decided that Kitty was right – God in His wisdom wouldn’t have made such a beautiful face and given him a bad heart.

  ‘My name’s Finn, I’m staying with my aunt and uncle at the cottage down there,’ he said.

  ‘We know,’ said Kitty.

  ‘Do you now?’ he said, grinning.

  There was something about this boy that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. I got the feeling that maybe he was making fun of us, but I didn’t mind because he was so beautiful to look at and he did it in such a way that you couldn’t be cross with him. Kitty was staring at him saying nothing, which wasn’t a bit like her, so I thought it was only polite that I should speak to him.

  ‘My name is Nora Doyle,’ I said. ‘And this is my good friend, Kitty Quinn.’

  ‘I’m very pleased to make your acquaintance, ladies,’ he said, bowing as if we were royalty.

 
He spoke funny and I liked it. I’d read lots of books about England. The boy reminded me of Colin in The Secret Garden. I could have listened to him all day.

  ‘And may I ask how you know my name?’ he said.

  ‘Tommy Nolan told us,’ said Kitty, going a bit red in the face.

  ‘Then I shall be forever in his debt,’ said Finn, smiling.

  Oh, I liked this boy. He looked a good deal older than us and I thought it was mighty good of him to pass the time of day with two slips of girls as us.

  ‘My granny and grandad live on the other side of the hill,’ I said. ‘They have a fine farm.’

  ‘Is your grandad Mr Collins?’ he said.

  ‘He is,’ I said, smiling at him.

  ‘Nice people,’ he said.

  I was mighty delighted that Finn Casey knew of my grandparents and that he held them in high regard. ‘Oh, they are,’ I said.

  ‘We were just out for a stretch of the legs,’ said Kitty.

  ‘And you chose a fine day for it,’ said Finn. ‘I was out walking myself and it’s given me quite a thirst. I’m sure my aunt would be delighted to offer you some refreshment if you have the time.’

  I looked across at Kitty and she nodded. ‘That would be grand,’ she said. ‘And thank you. We’re awful tired from climbing the hill.’

  We weren’t tired at all. For we were young and used to walking, but I thought Kitty accepted the offer with dignity. Finn strode away down the grassy bank, with the pair of us stumbling along behind him, trying to keep up. I was hot and gasping for breath by the time we got to the bottom and Kitty’s face looked red and sweaty.

  ‘Jesus,’ she whispered. ‘I’m only worn out.’

  ‘So am I, Kitty Quinn,’ I said. ‘I hope it was worth it.’

  Kitty smoothed her hair back from her face and grinned at me. ‘I’d run down a hundred hills for him,’ she said.

  I had a mind to tell her that she was too young to be running down hills for a boy she’d hardly met. In fact, the pair of us were too young to be interested in boys at all, even boys with fair hair and a grand way of talking.

  The cottage was pretty, with a little garden in front of it and yellow roses trailing across the white stone. Finn pushed open the door and we followed him inside. Mrs Lamey was sitting at the kitchen table, drinking tea with Mrs Toomey, the cobbler’s wife. ‘God bless all here,’ we chorused, dipping our fingers into the holy water.

  ‘Aunty Mary, these two girls are in need of refreshment,’ said Finn.

  ‘Then sit down and welcome,’ said Mrs Lamey.

  ‘That’s a grand holy water font you have there, Mrs Lamey,’ said Kitty.

  I agreed with her. The font was a statue of the Blessed Virgin Mary wearing a blue dress and a white veil. I’d never seen anything so lovely.

  ‘My cousin sent it all the way from America,’ said Mrs Lamey.

  ‘It’s a sight for sore eyes,’ I said. ‘But I never thought that you could get anything like that in America.’

  ‘They’re more Irish than the Irish over there,’ said Mrs Toomey.

  ‘With shops selling holy statues on every corner,’ said Mrs Lamey, placing two glasses of water in front of us.

  ‘Alongside Irish pubs on every corner,’ said Mrs Toomey, laughing with her head thrown back, showing off a set of teeth as black as coal.

  ‘Well, I think it’s very beautiful,’ I said. ‘And I wish I could get one just like it for my mammy.’

  ‘There’s a kind girl,’ said Mrs Lamey.

  ‘I’d like to get one for my mammy too,’ said Kitty, not to be outdone.

  ‘Two kind girls who love their mammies,’ said Mrs Lamey, smiling at us.

  ‘Have you been down the quay, Finn?’ said Mrs Toomey.

  Finn smiled at her and I noticed that his teeth were as white as the driven snow, when poor Mrs Toomey didn’t have one good tooth in her head. ‘Just walking the hills,’ he said. ‘It’s a great day for walking.’

  ‘You’ll miss the good country air when you get back to London, Finn,’ said Mrs Toomey.

  ‘I will indeed,’ said Finn. ‘But home is home, Mrs Toomey, and I miss my parents.’

  ‘Of course you do, lad,’ said Mrs Lamey. ‘But we’ll miss you when you’ve gone.’

  ‘When’s that?’ asked Kitty.

  ‘Soon,’ said Finn.

  ‘Isn’t it an awful shame that you couldn’t stay longer?’ said Kitty.

  ‘I have to go back to school,’ he said.

  I looked at Kitty and I could see that she was as surprised as meself to hear that Finn was still in school.

  ‘Aren’t you a bit old for school?’ said Kitty, who didn’t seem to have the ability to think before she spoke.

  ‘I’ll be starting at the university, Kitty, studying to be a doctor.’

  ‘And we’re all very proud of him,’ said Mrs Lamey.

  ‘I’m sure you are,’ I said.

  ‘When I think of poor Dooney up at the workhouse, I can’t help questioning the ways of the Lord,’ said Mrs Lamey. ‘Especially when I look at Finn and the fine brain he’s been blessed with.’

  Mrs Toomey made a kind of clicking noise with her black teeth. ‘It’s not up to us to question the ways of the Lord, Mrs Lamey – he must have his reasons for making Dooney the way he is.’

  ‘Well, I’d like to know what they are, Mrs Toomey, for it makes no sense to me.’

  ‘How’s Malachi, Nora?’ asked Mrs Toomey.

  ‘Oh, he’s grand and strong,’ I said.

  ‘And the way I hear it, you have Mrs Heher to thank for that,’ said Mrs Toomey.

  ‘If you believe everything the woman says,’ said Mrs Lamey.

  ‘We should get going,’ I said, standing up. ‘Thank you for the water and conversation.’

  ‘You have lovely polite ways, Nora,’ said Mrs Toomey. ‘Your mother must be very proud, after all she went through to get you.’

  ‘God love her,’ added Mrs Lamey.

  I had no idea what Mrs Toomey was talking about. I mumbled my thanks again and then Kitty and I left. Finn followed us outside.

  ‘So, you’re really going to be a doctor?’ I said, as we walked back up the garden.

  ‘It’s what I’ve always wanted to be.’

  ‘I think it’s a very worthy profession.’

  ‘I think so too,’ said Kitty, not wanting to be left out. ‘I expect we’ll see you around,’ she added hopefully.

  ‘I expect you will,’ he said, smiling.

  We said our goodbyes and set off up the hill.

  ‘Don’t you think that was very odd?’ I said.

  ‘What was very odd?’ said Kitty.

  ‘What Mrs Toomey said.’

  ‘I shouldn’t take any notice of that, old biddy,’ said Kitty. ‘She’s as mad as a coot.’

  ‘I expect you’re right,’ I said.

  But as I walked, I couldn’t help but wonder.

  Ten

  ‘This is a memorable day, Kitty,’ I said, as we sat on the wall watching the mourners following Billy Buff’s coffin towards the grave.

  Kitty took the little notebook out of the pocket of her dress. ‘Don’t you think it’s a bit sad though, Nora? Don’t you feel as if it’s the end of our childhood?’

  ‘It’s time to put childish things away, Kitty.’

  ‘Grandad Doyle?’

  ‘No, Kitty, the Bible. There’s a bit more, do you want to hear it?’

  ‘Why not? There’s not much to hold the interest here. There’s not a good hat or a decent pair of boots in sight.’

  ‘Any ribbons?’

  ‘Not a one,’ said Kitty, standing up on the wall. ‘Hang on, isn’t that Billy’s old dog, Sonny, following the cart?’

  I looked across at the mourners and my eyes filled with tears. ‘Oh, Kitty, did you ever see anything so dignified?’

  Kitty licked the end of the pencil. ‘What should I mark it?’

  ‘Mark it a ten, Kitty, for that old dog has stayed loyal to h
is master right up till the end and I think that is a wonderful thing.’

  Kitty wrote ‘Sonny’ and put a ten next to his name.

  ‘I wonder who will look after him now that Billy’s gone, for there’s no Mrs Buff.’

  ‘We’ll ask Father Kelly, for if there is no one to look after the poor feller, I’m thinking I should take him home to the Grey House.’

  ‘Won’t your parents mind?’

  I shook my head. ‘I think they’ll be glad to offer him some comfort. It would be an act of human kindness.’

  We sat on the wall and listened to the ‘dust to dust’ and the ‘ashes to ashes’ bit. Billy Buff was a simple soul who hurt no one, even though as a child he frightened the bejeebers out of me with his wonky eye and his half a leg.

  ‘So, what’s the rest of that saying then?’ asked Kitty.

  I cleared my throat and began. ‘When I was a child, I spoke as a child, but when I became a man, I put away childish things.’

  ‘What about women?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, it says “when I became a man”. What about “when I became a woman”?’

  ‘I don’t think women were very important back then, Kitty.’

  ‘Well, they should have been – I mean, if there was no Virgin Mary, there’d be no Jesus, would there?’

  ‘That’s true enough, Kitty.’

  ‘And don’t tell me Noah managed to get all those animals onto the ark on his own. I bet Mrs Noah had a hand in it. I bet she had to do all the cooking for the journey.’

  ‘I’d say you’re right, for there is no mention of Noah providing any food.’

  ‘I think we should change it to, “when I became a woman”.’

  ‘I’m not sure you can alter the Bible, Kitty. It might be seen as blasphemy.’

  ‘Who’s going to find out?’

  ‘God Himself will find out, for he sees and hears all things.’

  ‘Best leave it as it is then. I don’t want the wrath of God to come down on my head.’

  ‘I think that’s wise,’ I said, putting my arm around her shoulder.

  The mourners started to walk away from the grave. We waited until Father Kelly walked towards us, followed closely by Billy’s old dog.

  Father Kelly was a big man – not fat, but big. Grandad Doyle said he had a presence about him. He was the kindest and wisest man I had ever known and he was loved by everyone, even the Protestants. Grandad Doyle said that when a man was kind and non-judgemental, then folk were drawn to him whatever God they worshipped. Even people who had no faith at all came to Father Kelly for advice and he never turned them away from his door.