by Sandy Taylor
‘You will. Goodnight, Stevie.’
Thirty-Four
The family had all gone to Midnight Mass the night before, so on Christmas morning I walked up to the church on my own. You would have thought that I’d been gone for years, the way people were greeting me and hugging me and asking all about Dublin and was it as wicked as they’d heard? And wasn’t I relieved to be safe and sound and back in Ballybun?
There were so many people stopping me as I walked along that I feared I was going to be late for Mass and I was meeting Kitty outside. I picked up my pace but was immediately cornered by Mrs Toomey.
‘That’s a fine coat you have on there, Nora Doyle,’ she said. ‘They must be paying you a fortune in your grand job in Dublin.’ She was stroking the material, as if it was a cat that I was wearing and not a coat. I was just about to tell her that I’d got it in a sale at the church hall when I decided to let her think that I was earning a fortune in my grand job in Dublin. It would do her no harm to be a little green with envy and it would give her something to gossip about with her cronies.
She had a grip on my arm that would have put a heavyweight wrestler to shame. ‘I have to go, Mrs Toomey,’ I said, trying to pull away. ‘I’ll be late for Mass.’
‘Your poor mother must be pleased to have you home, Nora,’ she continued, as if I hadn’t spoken.
I could feel myself getting angry. ‘Why would you say that she’s poor, Mrs Toomey?’ I said.
‘Well, with her having to struggle with poor Stevie and little Malachi on her own, now that you’ve run off to the bright lights of Dublin.’
She said all this with a smile on her face. I looked at her sharp little nose that was a perfect match for her sharp little tongue and I had the urge to slap her.
‘But that’s the young people of today for you,’ she continued, sighing. ‘They’d rather be off galivanting than staying at home where they’re needed.’
I pulled away from her. ‘I wish you the Christmas you deserve,’ I said, and walked away. Stupid interfering baggage of a woman, I thought as I hurried up the hill towards the church. Now I was going to have to confess to Father Kelly that I’d been harbouring mean thoughts about a woman of the parish and I’d only been home five minutes.
Kitty jumped off the wall and ran towards me. ‘Oh, Nora,’ she said. ‘I thought you’d never get here.’
‘Neither did I,’ I said. ‘I swear I was stopped by the entire town; you’d think that I was visiting royalty.’
‘You are in a way, girl, for there’s not many that have ventured out of the place.’
‘And that bloody Mrs Toomey has me blood boiling, eating the face off me for leaving Mammy.’
‘Mrs Toomey is a miserable cow,’ said Kitty. ‘Pay her no mind.’
I smiled at Kitty and put my arms around her. ‘Oh, it’s good to see you, Kitty.’
‘And it’s good to see you,’ she said, grinning. ‘Now let’s hurry, Mass will have started.’
We made our way down to the side altar and knelt in front of the nativity scene. There were candles all around the little statues of the Virgin Mary and Joseph and the baby Jesus and there was a silver star glowing over the top of the stable. I looked at my dear friend Kitty and I thanked God for bringing me home this Christmas Day to be with the people I loved.
‘I wish we could spend some time together before you go back,’ said Kitty, after Mass. ‘I’m only dying to hear all your news.’
‘Come up to the Grey House after you’ve had your dinner,’ I said.
When I got home, Granny and Grandad Collins were already there.
‘Dublin suits you, Nora,’ said Granny. ‘You’re looking lovely.’
‘She is, isn’t she?’ said Mammy.
Malachi was lying flat out on the floor, playing with a toy car that Father Christmas had brought him, and Stevie was sitting beside the fire, opposite Grandad Doyle. I looked around the room at my family and I felt like crying, for tomorrow I would have to leave them again and it would be hard.
After we’d had our dinner and I’d helped Mammy to tidy up, we sat down to open our presents. Mammy and Daddy gave me a medal of Saint Christopher on a little silver chain – it was the loveliest thing I’d ever seen.
‘I love it,’ I said, hugging them both.
‘He’ll keep you safe while you are gone from us,’ said Daddy, ‘for he’s the patron saint of travellers.’
Grandad Doyle loved his book. ‘Is this from your shop?’ he said.
I nodded.
‘Jerome K. Jerome,’ he said. ‘I’ve heard of the feller. I shall look forward to reading this, Nora. No one will be getting a word out of me for the rest of the day, which is a gift for everyone else.’ He handed me a parcel. ‘Now you won’t be surprised to find that we think alike in the present department.’
Grandad had bought me a book called Peter Pan in Kensington Gardens.
‘I know that we have read Peter Pan together,’ he said. ‘But I wanted to introduce you to one of life’s great illustrators. The man’s name is Arthur Rackham and believe me when I say he’s a cut above the rest when it comes to drawing.’
I opened the book and breathed in the musty smell.
‘What does it smell like?’ said Stevie.
I closed my eyes. ‘It smells…’ I frowned. I couldn’t describe it.
‘Unique?’ said Grandad.
‘That’s the word,’ I said, grinning.
‘Will she ever grow out of that silly habit?’ said Granny Collins.
‘Oh, I do hope not,’ said Grandad Doyle, winking at me.
Stevie loved Gulliver’s Travels and Malachi laughed and imitated all the animals as Mammy turned the pages.
Stevie reached down beside his chair and handed me a flat package. I unwrapped it gently and my eyes filled with tears as I looked at the drawing inside. It was the garden: mine and Eddie’s garden. He’d remembered everything I’d told him about it – the pond, the robin, the bench and the swing hanging from the tree. ‘Thank you, Stevie,’ I said. ‘It is perfect, I love it. I shall take it back to Dublin with me.’
‘He’s been working on it for months, Nora,’ said Mammy.
‘Aren’t you going to let the rest of us see this masterpiece?’ asked Granny Collins, smiling.
I passed it over to her. ‘Now this is something to behold,’ she said. ‘A beautiful garden, the like of which I’ve never seen. Where did you get the idea for this, Stevie? For none of us has a garden like it and probably never will.’
‘The lad has a fierce imagination,’ said Mammy quickly, coming to the rescue.
‘I’d say all that reading has something to do with that,’ said Grandad Collins.
‘Reading feeds the soul,’ Grandad Doyle nodded in agreement. ‘And stimulates the brain.’
‘And figgy pudding feeds the belly,’ said Stevie, grinning and making us all laugh.
Daddy and Grandad Collins were delighted with the baccy and Mammy and Granny Collins loved the tea cosies.
‘The one I have is falling apart,’ said Mammy. ‘I shall throw it away immediately and invite all the neighbours around so that I can show off my new one.’
In the afternoon, Stevie and Grandad Doyle nodded off in front of the fire and Granny and Grandad Collins went back to the farm to see to the animals. Mammy took Malachi down the Alley to the little white cottage to visit Annie and Mrs Fowley.
I wanted to be on my own when I opened Joe’s present – for some reason I didn’t want the whole family to be asking me questions about him. I went upstairs and sat on my bed. I took off the paper to reveal a book of poetry by Lord Byron. I traced the cover with my finger, then turned to the title page. My eyes filled with tears as I read the words that Joe had written inside.
She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that’s best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes.
Lord Byron
; To sweet Nora who walks in beauty.
Happy Christmas
Love
Joe xxx
I breathed in the pages and pictured Joe’s face. The book smelled of new beginnings. I closed it and gazed at its cover. It showed a picture of a girl with long dark hair, walking along a stony path on a winter’s night. Her dress was white and her arms were bare and she was surrounded by a darkness that was deep and oppressive. Trees like skeletons lined the path, their branches reaching up through the mist. How cold the girl looked, how lonely.
Rather than wait for Kitty to come up to the house, I decided to call for her – I had a need to stretch my legs after a dinner that could have fed the five thousand. And I wanted to get out of the house, for there was something I needed to do.
It was bitingly cold outside and my nose was frozen by the time I got to the white cottage. I popped my head around the door and wished Annie and Mrs Fowley a happy Christmas. Mammy opened the door to me.
‘Come in for a minute, Nora,’ she said. ‘And show Annie your new coat.’
The little room was lovely and cosy and I was tempted to warm myself by the fire but I knew that once I did that, I wouldn’t have wanted to continue my journey.
‘Give us a twirl,’ said Annie.
I spun round in the middle of the room and Malachi tried to copy me, making us all laugh.
‘The green suits you, Nora,’ said Annie, fingering the soft material.
‘And it’s not a colour I would have chosen for her,’ said Mammy. ‘It just goes to show that you should try new things and not dismiss them out of hand.’
‘Is Mrs Foley not around?’ I said.
‘She stays in her bed these days,’ said Annie. ‘She’s more comfortable there.’
‘I’ll go and sit with her for a while,’ said Mammy.
Just then, there was a knock on the door and Kitty walked in. ‘God bless all here,’ she said, dipping her finger in the holy water.
‘Amen,’ said Annie.
‘I’ve just been up to the house,’ said Kitty. ‘Your father said you were coming to see me, and as I didn’t pass you on the way, I thought you might be here.’
‘Are your family all well, Kitty?’ said Mammy.
‘They’re grand, Mrs Doyle. Mammy is expecting another baby.’
‘That’s a blessing, Kitty. I’m sure you are all delighted.’
‘Delighted isn’t a word that comes to mind,’ said Kitty as we stepped out of the house and started to walk down the Alley. ‘The house is only bursting at the seams as it is.’
‘Ah, but you’ll love it, Kitty.’
‘I haven’t a choice, have I?’ said Kitty, shivering. ‘Can we go up to the house now? I’m only frozen.’
‘Before we go there, Kitty, I want to see the wall,’ I said.
‘What wall?’ said Kitty.
‘The one around Bretton Hall.’
‘Jesus, Nora, why would you be wanting to see that? The bloody thing nearly drove you to drink.’
How could I explain to Kitty my need to go back there? I couldn’t think of my home without thinking of the wall and it was driving me mad. I had to stop feeling like this and the only way it was going to stop was by going back. Grandad Doyle had once said that it is better to face your demons than to let them fester. ‘Chances are,’ he had said, ‘that they are not as scary as you’ve imagined them to be.’
‘I just need to see it again,’ I said.
The wind blowing off the sea would cut the nose off you and Kitty was moaning all the way out to the Strand, but she had agreed to go and it was good to know my friend was by my side.
‘We’ll end up with frostbite,’ she said. ‘Our toes will have to be amputated and no one will want to marry us.’
‘Let’s run,’ I said, laughing.
‘Aren’t we too old to run?’
‘I don’t think we will ever be too old to run, Kitty.’
As we got closer to Bretton Hall we slowed down. Did I really want to put myself through this again?
‘Are you sure you want to do this, Nora?’ asked Kitty, seeing the doubt on my face.
I nodded. ‘I think so,’ I said, uncertainly.
As we turned the corner, I could see the wall, stretching out in front of me, enclosing the grounds of Bretton Hall like an army of guards. I shivered, as if I was standing in front of a living thing, a thing that had the power to destroy me just by being there. I moved away from Kitty and she seemed to understand my need to be alone. I trailed my hand along the cold stone as I walked. I’d built this up in my mind until it had become more than just a wall. It had become an ogre, with Caroline Bretton’s face imprinted on every brick. It had made me run from Ballybun and from my family. Caroline Bretton had taken something away from me that day in the garden. I had never been sure what it was. Grandad Doyle would know; he’d have the right word. I had always been proud to be the girl from Paradise Alley but with a few words she had made me feel ashamed of who I was. Why had I let her do that to me? Why had I let myself believe that a pile of bricks could keep me away from Eddie?
As I stared at the wall, a kind of peace washed over me. I might not have been high-born, I might not have the money and status that she had, but that didn’t make me any less of a person. One day me and Eddie would come back to the garden. We would dig the soil and we would plant flowers that would blossom and grow. One day we would see each other again, of that I was sure. I walked back to Kitty, smiling.
‘Tommy did a grand job, didn’t he?’ she said, warily.
‘It’s a fine wall alright,’ I said. ‘You should be very proud to be walking out with such a craftsman, Kitty. Let’s go home.’
‘Yes, let’s,’ said Kitty, catching hold of my hand.
Thirty-Five
‘So, tell me everything,’ said Kitty. ‘I want to know about the girls and the dances and the shop and Joe. You can start with Joe.’
We were cuddled up under the blankets on my bed, but Kitty was still shivering.
‘What do you want to know?’
‘Is he handsome?’
‘Very,’ I said, smiling.
‘And is he kind?’
‘Extremely.’
‘And have you kissed?’
‘We have.’
‘And?’
‘And what?’
‘What did it feel like? Did it have you shaking in your boots? Did it unleash a passion you never knew you had in you?’
I thought about the kiss. I thought about the coolness of Joe’s lips and the way he’d held me close. I remembered the roughness of his jacket against my cold cheeks, and I remembered the silence as the snow fell around us and we fell in love.
‘Hello?’ said Kitty, grinning.
‘Sorry, I was remembering.’
‘I was hoping to persuade you to stay, but I can see from that face that I’d be wasting me breath.’
‘I fear you would, but now it’s your turn. Tell me about you and Tommy.’
Kitty grinned. ‘Ah, me and Tommy. I’m not sure it’s the fairy-tale romance that you two seem to be having, but we suit each other.’
‘That doesn’t sound very romantic at all, Kitty.’
‘Sure, I’ve known him all my life, Nora. There are no surprises where Tommy Nolan is concerned.’
I frowned. ‘There must be more to it than the fact that you suit each other.’
‘I like being with him, it’s easy. We’re from the same place, we understand each other. He’s more than happy to push Sean out in his chair or keep Breda company under the table and Mammy loves the bones of him.’
‘As long as you’re happy, Kitty,’ I said.
‘I’m happier than I’ve ever been. I never expected to fall in love so young. I thought that I’d maybe see a bit of life before I settled down but Tommy is the one for me, so I suppose this will be my life – here in Ballybun. As long as I have Tommy, I won’t want for anything else.’
‘So, it’s true love, then?’
She smiled. ‘Oh yes.’
‘Then I’m glad for you, Kitty, for all I want is your happiness.’
‘Don’t forget to write,’ she said as we hugged each other goodbye. ‘I may never get to Dublin but I get to see it through your eyes.’
The next morning, my family stood dry-eyed at the door as we waited for Father Kelly to arrive. I knew that they were just trying to make it easier for me and that the tears would come later. Stevie had taken it the hardest. He’d sat on my bed, watching me packing my case, making sure that I didn’t leave his drawing behind. Seeing the sadness in his eyes made me question why I was leaving everyone I loved and going back to Dublin.
‘I’ll visit again,’ I said. ‘I promise I will.’
‘But what if I need you?’
‘Then I’ll come home. Look at me, Stevie, if there is ever a time when you really need me then nothing will keep me away.’
‘Not even your grand job?’ he said, smiling.
‘Not even my grand job.’
‘Okay so,’ he said, brightening up. ‘I’ll hold you to that.’
As the train started to move slowly out of Cork, I felt such a confusing mixture of emotions. I was sad to be leaving my family and I was worried about Stevie. And on top of all that, Mrs Bloody Toomey’s words kept coming back to me. Was I a selfish girl to leave Mammy? Should I be a dutiful daughter and stay home to help her with the house and Stevie and Malachi? The reasons I had for leaving Ballybun hadn’t gone away, they just didn’t seem as important anymore. Mammy had said that the people we cared about didn’t judge us and those that did weren’t our friends. I stared out of the window at the fields and rivers rushing by, every mile taking me further from my home, and yet there was a warm feeling inside me, for every mile was taking me closer to Joe.
He was standing on the platform as the train pulled into Dublin. I pushed down the window and waved to him.
‘Joe?’ said Dymphna, who was travelling back to Dublin with me.
I turned around and smiled at her. ‘I didn’t know that he was going to meet me.’
‘It must be love,’ she said, smiling. ‘Oh, that I was that lucky. I have yet to meet a boy that I’ve wanted to spend more than five minutes with.’
