Finishing Touches

by Patricia Scanlan

  Watching her mother gently stroking Jack’s hand, talking softly to him, Cassie realized for the first time that Jack and Nora had a relationship that was quite apart from being parents to the five of them. She had never thought of her mother and father as a couple who had once dated as she and Donie dated. It was strange to see them in this light and her heart went out to Nora. She was really devoted to Jack. It showed in so many little ways: the way she had his slippers warming at the fire in the winter; the way she always gave him the crispest piece of crackling of the roast pork; the way she fussed, making him change his clothes if he got a drenching; the way she got up every morning to make him a mug of tea. All the years of doing these little things. And all the years Cassie had assumed that was what mothers did. It had never crossed her mind to think that was what love was all about. With her head stuck in romantic novels, love to her had been great passion, flowers and chocolates and romantic walks, such as she enjoyed with Donie. All the time her mother and father were deeply loving each other and she had never even noticed.

  ‘Come on, now, Jack love. Wake up for me, now. You’ve slept long enough. Oh Jack! Jack!’ Cassie felt a huge lump in her throat as Nora’s voice faltered. At the other side of the bed, John, his cowslick sticking up even more than normal, his face white and tense, was holding Jack’s other hand.

  ‘Come on, Pops, you’ve got to get well. I helped the lads with the side-shooting of the tomato plants, in number one glasshouse, so we’re all ready to go into number two!’ The doctor had told them to talk to Jack and John was doing his best.

  Barbara was sobbing into her handkerchief and Cassie put her arm around her. ‘Stop crying, Barbara, it’s upsetting for Mam!’ she whispered, longing to break down and howl herself.

  ‘I’m frightened, Cassie,’ Barbara gulped.

  So am I, Cassie screamed silently as fear made her insides icy-cold. But she said nothing, just gave Barbara a reassuring hug and went to stand at Nora’s shoulder. Periodically the nurses came in and asked them to leave as they performed tests on Jack to see if he were responding at all. They were terribly kind, bringing them tea to the little room where they waited, and, as Cassie realized, looking back, preparing them for the worst with great sensitivity. ‘It’s not looking too good,’ one of the sisters gently told Nora and her, and Cassie realized with a numbing sense of shock that her father was going to die. Jack couldn’t die! she wanted to scream. He was her father! He was invincible. It was all a terrible nightmare. Soon she would wake up and see his smiling ruddy face at the bedroom door saying in his cheerful way, ‘Rise and shine. The weather’s fine,’ as he always did in the morning, calling her to get up.

  In disbelief, she watched the hospital chaplain anoint her father. The family knelt beside the bed and said a Rosary, praying fervently that God might change his mind about taking Jack from them. There were millions of other people out there, Cassie thought angrily, murderers, rapists; why not pick on them? Jack was a good man. A great husband and father, a fine friend and neighbour. No-one was ever turned away empty-handed from Jack Jordan’s door.

  Please God, don’t let my daddy die. Cassie buried her head in her hands and tried to stop the tears that were streaming down her face. She heard her father give what sounded like a deep sigh. Her eyes met her mother’s and she saw frantic fear reflected in them. ‘Jack! Jack!’ Her mother was on her feet. The nurse felt for a pulse she knew was not there.

  ‘I’m sorry, Mrs Jordan,’ she said gently, as Nora sobbed ‘No! No!’

  Just as she thought she was going to scream, Cassie caught sight of John’s face. He looked as if he were about to faint. Gripping his father’s hand tightly, he was saying, ‘Don’t worry, Pops, I’ll take care of Mam and the girls. Don’t you worry about anything.’

  Cassie thought her heart was going to break. ‘Why?’ she asked the priest, in utter bewilderment. ‘Why?’

  ‘Your father has gone to his eternal rest. To a wonderful new life. It is God’s will,’ the priest said consolingly.

  ‘If that’s God’s way of showing his love for us I hate him,’ Cassie replied bitterly as she took her sobbing mother in her arms.

  How she got through the next few days she never knew. Everybody turned to her. Nora seemed unable to make even the simplest decision and it was left to Cassie to organize everything. The funeral had to be arranged, death notices put in the paper, relatives informed. Strangely enough, it was Aunt Elsie who was her greatest support. It was Elsie who helped Nora pick out the suit that Jack was to be laid out in, and Elsie who baked teabracks and scones for when the neighbours called to pay their respects. It was Elsie who forced a glass of brandy down Nora’s throat when her younger sister started to shake just before they went to the mortuary to say their last goodbyes to Jack.

  Jack looked so peaceful in his coffin. He didn’t even look fifty-six. He had been cut down in his prime. Cassie stood looking at him, unable to grasp the fact that he was dead and that she would never see him again. It was so unbelievable to think that this time yesterday he was alive and teasing her about her great romance and now he was cold, so cold and lifeless, with not a breath in his body. After kissing him for the last time, Cassie watched as they lowered the lid on her father’s coffin and the physical pain of her grief was so intense that she cried out. Beside her, Aunt Elsie, stony-faced, squeezed her hand. Cassie sat through the prayers in the church, holding John’s and Martin’s hands, the boys trembling beside her. It was so hard to concentrate, so hard to believe that it was Jack who was lying in the coffin at the foot of the altar. Afterwards, a stream of friends and neighbours queued to shake hands with the family. Donie was among them, and squeezed her hand in support. When Laura and Aileen stood in front of her, tears streaming down their faces, she broke down. They held her close, sobbing as though their hearts would break.

  Eventually they got back home. The house was so empty. Every minute Cassie expected her father to walk through the door, to hear his laughing voice saying as he always did, ‘Any chance of a cuppa?’ Dozens of neighbours and friends called, as was the custom in the country, and she and Elsie were kept busy making tea and sandwiches. ‘The joys of being the eldest,’ Elsie said drily, as she made yet another pot of tea. Cassie smiled at her aunt and at that moment felt very close to her.

  Later that night, when Nora had finally fallen into a sedated sleep and the others were in bed, Cassie sat with her aunt having a last cup of tea, reluctant to go to bed, knowing that they still had the ordeal of the funeral to go through.

  Cassie spoke her thoughts aloud. ‘I just don’t understand it.’

  Elsie looked up from one of the socks that she was darning. ‘You’re not supposed to understand it, my girl, and if you get that into your head, believe me, it will be a great help to you in life.’ She bit off the thread and laid the sock neatly aside. ‘I know precisely what you are feeling, Cassie. I remember the terror I felt when my mother died. My mother was my greatest friend. I depended on her for everything. I was engaged, you know . . .’

  Elsie’s blue eyes glistened and a faraway look came into them. Cassie was amazed. She never knew that Aunt Elsie had been engaged. Had never thought of Aunt Elsie as having boyfriends, or romances. ‘I was young too, you know,’ Elsie sniffed, reading her thoughts. Cassie smiled. These last few days, she had come to realize that her aunt’s bark was much worse than her bite.

  ‘My beau was killed on D-Day during the last world war and I grieved so much I wanted to die myself. Why? I kept asking my mother. Why?’ Elsie took Cassie’s hand in hers. ‘My mother stood me in front of the picture of the Sacred Heart and said, “I have no answer for you. He’s the one who knows all things. You must put your trust in God because no-one can carry their burdens alone. Thy will, not mine, be done, you must say to yourself when there is no understanding.”’ Elsie smiled at her niece. ‘It took me a long, long time to learn the wisdom of her words, Cassie. I stopped fighting God and let him have his way and found my peace of mind. I’ll
pray that you and your mother and the family do the same. Now go to bed, it’s late. You have to be brave for one more day and then you have to set your shoulders and get on with living.’

  Her aunt’s words churned around Cassie’s brain as she sat in the funeral car on the way to the church the following morning. She had not slept and felt utterly exhausted. It was a horrible dismal morning, misting rain. Beside her, Nora sat immobile, eyes staring unseeingly ahead. Cassie took her mother’s hand in hers. It was damp and sweaty. ‘Are you all right?’ she asked anxiously.

  ‘I wish it were over.’

  ‘It will be soon,’ Cassie soothed.

  What was Jack doing now, she wondered as she heard the priest tell the packed church what a loss her father would be to the community. Could he see what was going on? Had he met his mother and father? Were they waiting for him? Was there a life after death? Or was there nothing at all? If only she knew. If only he would give her some sign to say that he was all right. With a start she realized that the Mass was almost over. The priest was standing over the coffin. ‘May the angels lead you to the gates of paradise,’ he intoned. How beautiful, Cassie thought. May the angels lead you to the gates of paradise. What a comforting prayer. A sunbeam shone brightly through the stained-glass window above the altar and Cassie knew that it was a sign from Jack. When they left the church the sun continued to shine gloriously and she knew it was a sign from her Poppa. She just knew it.

  Cassie held her mother tightly as they watched Jack’s coffin slide into the grave. Ashes to ashes; dust to dust. No-one ever escaped death. Laura and Aileen came over to her to sympathize, tears pouring down their cheeks. ‘Thanks for coming,’ Cassie said gratefully.

  ‘Of course we’d come!’ said Laura, who was deeply shocked by Jack’s death. If her own father had died she wouldn’t have been as upset.

  ‘It’s a pleasure!’ exclaimed Aileen earnestly, uncharacteristically at a loss for words. She realized what she had said and began to babble. ‘I didn’t mean it’s a pleasure. I meant . . . I mean of course I’d come – you’re my best friend. Where else would I be?’

  Cassie and Laura caught each other’s eye and stared at the red-faced Aileen, whose sang-froid had totally deserted her. ‘Oh God! I’ve just put my size elevens in it,’ she said sheepishly. In spite of her trauma, Cassie couldn’t help herself and gave a little giggle. Who else but Aileen would say ‘it’s a pleasure’ to come to a funeral?

  ‘Idiot!’ grinned Laura.

  ‘I know! I know! Cassie, you know what I mean. I’m really so sorry.’

  ‘Of course I know what you mean. And I’m glad you’re with me. It really helps. Please come back to the house.’

  Laura demurred. ‘Oh Cassie, we wouldn’t like to impose.’

  ‘You wouldn’t be imposing. You could help make the tea. Please come back with me. Donie’ll be there as well. All the ould wans will be coming and I just can’t face them again. If anyone else tells me God is merciful, I’ll scream.’

  ‘Is Perpetua coming back?’ enquired Aileen. A large contingent of the nuns had come to the funeral and no doubt one or two of them would come back to the house to pay their respects.

  ‘You know Perpetua! As nosy as they come. Don’t you know she’ll be back.’

  ‘What an opportunity to put Brooklax in her tea!’ murmured the incorrigible Aileen.

  Nora was devastated by her husband’s death and all the family seemed to be turning to Cassie for consolation. Irene had taken it very badly and got a terrible asthma attack and didn’t want to go to school at all, even after the doctor had said she was sufficiently recovered. Cassie tried to persuade the child that she should go back. She knew that because her father had died so suddenly, Irene was afraid that something might happen to her mother and she had always been a clingy child where Nora was concerned. This was understandable. But Cassie felt Nora should make her go to school and get on with it. Irene couldn’t expect to go through her entire life being sheltered from its hard knocks.

  Barbara, although still terribly upset and prone to bursting into tears, seemed to be coping quite well. Cassie thanked God for her younger sister’s resilient nature. Although Barbara was grieving as much as the rest of them, Cassie knew that a little part of her enjoyed the attention of classmates and neighbours who were deeply shocked by the tragedy that had struck the Jordan family. Barbara insisted on wearing black, even to school, and acted the part of the tragic heroine superbly.

  John seemed to grow up overnight. He did his chores and much more, and Cassie depended on him greatly.

  Nora had decided to accept the offer of one of her neighbours to lease the farm from her. Now that Jack was gone, her heart wasn’t in farming and, besides, the rent would be a good steady income. And she wouldn’t have to be worrying about all the thousand and one things that are involved in running a big market-garden and farm combined. The neighbour assured John and Martin that they would be given summer work in the glasshouses if they wanted it, when he saw that the boys were upset at the thought of losing the farm.

  ‘We’re not losing it!’ Cassie had assured them. ‘Mam’s only leasing it for the time being because she doesn’t feel up to running it herself at the moment. She can always decide not to renew the lease when the time comes and run it herself when the two of you are older and able to take over for her.’ This was a great comfort to John, who had always been extremely interested in working with his father. Martin, who was more interested in the methods of heating the glasshouses than the agricultural side, was relieved that he wouldn’t have to go side-shooting tomatoes after school, although he knew he’d be stuck working on the farm during his summer holidays.

  Over and over again, her mother would ask Cassie, ‘Did I make the right decision? Did I let Jack down by leasing the farm? Should I have tried to run it myself? Pat Kearns is a good foreman. He would have kept me on the right track.’

  Over and over again, Cassie would reassure her mother, ‘Mam, it was the right thing to do. The fruit-farm is still ours and you always have the option of not renewing the lease but for the time being you know it will be well looked after until you do decide to run it yourself. And this way you’ve got a steady income and you don’t have to be worrying on that score. Pops would be very proud of the way you’re handling things.’

  ‘I hope so!’ Nora would weep and Cassie’s heart ached for her distraught mother.

  There had been so much to do in the weeks following Jack’s death. His will had to be taken care of. Cassie had had to help her mother with a lot of business concerning his insurance policies and bank accounts. Fortunately Jack was an organized man and everything was fairly straightforward. Eventually all that remained to be done was for her father’s clothes to be disposed of.

  ‘Cassie, I can’t do that,’ Nora sobbed. ‘Will you decide what to do with them and take care of them for me?’ Cassie’s heart sank. It was the one thing she dreaded. Getting rid of Jack’s clothes was so final. Like banishing him from the home. At least with his clothes hanging in the wardrobe you could pretend that all was well and he was just out in the fields. Don’t ask me to do it, she wanted to beg her mother. She was so weary. So tired of having to make decisions for everybody. But it was something that had to be done, this final thing that would really confirm that Jack was gone for ever.

  In the end, Aunt Elsie came to her rescue. ‘I’ll help you,’ she told her beleaguered niece over the telephone. ‘The sooner you do it the better for yourself and Nora. Meet me off the train. I’ll stay for the weekend.’ They spent an afternoon sorting out Jack’s belongings. The clothes that were good enough to give to the St Vincent de Paul they washed and ironed. The rest Elsie put in a refuse sack which Martin and John burned. Cassie cried her eyes out. She kept a plaid shirt, one of Jack’s favourites, for herself. She could still get the scent of her father on it and she hugged it close, rubbing her cheek against its worn softness, whispering his name over and over. Nora kept her husband’s dressing-gown.r />
  Nine

  Cassie sat her Leaving Certificate less than a month after Jack died. It was almost impossible to study but it was a relief in a way to go back to school and try and get some revision done for her exams. All the teachers and nuns were very sympathetic to her – even Mother Perpetua did her best – and encouraged her to put her heart into her studies. The thought of the exams took her mind off her great loss and the disruption at home, and when the time came to sit them she managed to blot out her grief and concentrate on the papers. On the day of her maths exam, Cassie had felt her heart sink as she read the paper. Maths had never been her strongest subject. At the desk in front, Laura, head down, was busily writing. Maths was no problem to Laura. To her left, Aileen was looking extremely perplexed. They caught each other’s gaze. Aileen threw her eyes heavenwards and grimaced dramatically. Cassie grinned.

  Cassie managed to answer a few questions and was sitting chewing her pen, pondering the relationship between a, b and c on a linear equation. She was flummoxed. She sat in the silent exam hall, staring into space. Then a very strange thing happened. For a brief moment she had the strongest sense of her father; then her mind seemed to clear and the answer to the problem just came into her head. ‘Thank you, Pops,’ she whispered. Laura had given her a prayer when Jack died and it gave Cassie great comfort. She learnt it off by heart and said it to herself each night. It was called ‘Togetherness.’ Now she said it to herself, knowing that somehow Jack had been with her in her difficulties.

  Death is nothing at all. I have only slipped away into the next room.

  I am I and you are you. Whatever we were to each other that we still are.

  Call me by my old familiar name, speak to me in the easy way you always used.

  Put no difference into your tone, wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow.

  Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes we enjoyed together.