The puppets were in place, Smokey had been given a nosebag, Pomona and Danny were putting out the deckchairs.
‘Time for a quick sandwich – I’m starving!’ May said. ‘Then we’ll look at the photographs. I can’t wait until tonight!’
They sat in a circle on the sand, and passed the snaps from hand to hand. Some of the action ones were slightly blurred, especially those of Pomona: she couldn’t hold a pose for long! The best prints were those May had taken of the ferry-boat trip to the smoke houses and on the quay. However, she couldn’t help noticing a familiar figure on the edge of these particular pictures. Carlos! Staring unsmiling into the camera lens … May gave an involuntary shiver. She thought: he must have been following me, spying on me!
The audiences were dwindling towards the end of the summer. The doubtful weather didn’t help. Folk didn’t sit around in deckchairs when it was chilly. They packed up early. ‘I shan’t bother tomorrow,’ May decided. ‘I feel like a day off!’
‘We can spend the morning training the pups,’ Pomona told Danny. They had duly named one Gertie, and the other Bertie. It was agreed that one pup was for Jenny, and the other for Danny, when they were old enough to leave Toby.
‘They haven’t got their eyes open properly yet,’ he pointed out. ‘Toby won’t like it, if you take them away from her, they’re too small.’
‘Oh, why do you know it all? Well, we can have a day at the swimming pool.’
‘I might have known you’d suggest that,’ Danny said ruefully, with an exaggerated shiver. There was a chill wind today. ‘I think I’ve had enough of watching you swim this summer!’
‘Seems like a good time to ask you to come with me to the amber gift shop in town,’ Paddy whispered to May. ‘Remember the piece I found after the storm?’
‘You never showed it to me!’ She’d thought it was mean at the time.
‘We weren’t good friends then!’
‘Are you hoping to sell it?’
‘Wait and see,’ Paddy said mysteriously. ‘We won’t take those kids, anyway!’
May always enjoyed gazing at the window display in the gift shop. Even on an overcast day, she thought, there was a golden aura emanating from the beads and brooches arranged on velvet cushions.
‘It’s amazing to think the amber found here on the east coast has probably come from under the North Sea; could be millions of years old,’ Paddy observed.
‘Some of it is darker in colour, but I prefer the lighter pieces. I read somewhere that amber is always warm to the touch, unlike most stones,’ May said.
‘Then you’ll approve of my lucky find, I think!’ The bell jangled as they entered the shop; they went down a few steps.
It was like a cave of jewels, May thought as she took in the sumptuous displays. She also noted a price-ticket or two, which made her gasp. Paddy unrolled a square of cloth which he had wrapped around the chunk of amber. A solemn-faced man examined it with the help of an eyeglass. He turned the amber this way and that, rotating it slowly between thumb and finger.
‘You wish to sell this?’ he asked at last. ‘Or to have an item of jewellery made, perhaps more than one? because it is a fair size, if not top quality?’
‘I was wondering,’ said Paddy boldly, ‘If it could be divided into two, and if you would care to keep one piece in repayment for a pendant made from the other?’
‘Mmm.… There would still be the cost of a silver chain to consider.’
‘How much would that be, please?’
‘I believe I could provide one to suit your pocket,’ the man replied. ‘The pendant will be ready for collection in ten days. Let us shake hands on the deal.’
As they walked away from the shop May said impulsively, ‘Your mother is a very lucky lady!’ She assumed that the pendant was a gift for Brigid.
He smiled. ‘I hope she has a guinea to lend me!’ he said.
Thirteen
THE BILLBOARD OUTSIDE the pier theatre proclaimed:
FINAL APPEARANCE TONIGHT
OF OUR STAR ACTS!
DON’T MISS CARLOS & CARMEN!
OR THE VERSATILE O’FLAHERTYS!
On Saturday evening, Jenny and Percy posted a notice on the pub door.
CLOSED – FOR ONE NIGHT ONLY.
WE HAVE BEEN INVITED TO
A SPECIAL PERFORMANCE
AT THE PIER THEATRE.
BUSINESS AS USUAL TOMORROW!
Earlier, on the beach, May and Pomona, with Paddy and Danny, had packed up the Punch and Judy outfit after their final show. The puppets were looking slightly shabby after all their handling.
‘Mr Punch needs his nose painted!’ said Pomona. She pointed out the worn patch to May.
‘Mmm,’ May agreed. She thought, maybe it’s time he retired.
There were not many people about, and few coins rattling in the bottle. The girls would be returning home the day after tomorrow.
‘You look very solemn,’ Paddy said softly to May.
‘Well, I don’t like saying goodbye,’ she admitted.
‘To anyone in particular?’ he prompted her.
‘To all of you – dear Jenny and Percy, Brigid and Brendan, Danny and – you!’ May’s words came out in a rush. She added: ‘Mum, too – despite everything. That’s in the past. She and Carlos are leaving later this week, like you.’
‘Is she still on about you joining them later in Spain?’ Paddy wanted to know.
‘No, but Carlos tried to persuade me again after our last rehearsal. He got me in a corner and grabbed my arm. I shouted out Ouch! so Mum could hear, and he let go. He’s afraid of her when she’s in a temper! He can’t stand up to her tantrums, like Dad did. I wanted to say it was none of his business, but I thought she’d be cross with me then. Carlos doesn’t seem to realize that I don’t like him, and that I never will! I certainly don’t have ambitions to be his dancing partner.’
‘When your eyes flash like that, you look very Spanish!’ said Paddy. ‘You ought to visit the place your mother came from, one day. I know I want to go to Ireland sometime, to find out why I am as I am. It must be the same for you.’
She didn’t answer that, but instead said softly, ‘You didn’t say, you know, that you’ll miss me….’
Paddy glanced over at his brother and Pomona, who were intent on popping the little bladders on a smelly piece of seaweed which had been washed ashore. ‘Little pitchers have big ears, as Mum sometimes says, eh? You know I will. I might even write to you—’
‘What d’you mean, you might?’ she demanded.
He grinned. ‘One thing is sure, I won’t forget this summer, or you, Young May Moon, presenting the Punch and Judy show.’
They had front-row seats in the pier theatre this time. Percy and Jenny sat on either side of Pomona, and Jenny took charge of the bag of jelly babies, which she’d recommended because Pomona couldn’t crunch those. May was opposite centre stage, not only because it was the best vantage point, but also because she needed to be near the steps up to the stage for a special reason. The little theatre was packed.
The lights dimmed, the chattering ceased, and the show began. There had been a few changes in the cast over the summer. The opening turn was a rather inebriated ventriloquist, with a dummy whose bulbous red nose rivalled that of Mr Punch. Pomona watched intently for any twitching of the ventriloquist’s lips. She wasn’t disappointed.
‘Don’t be daft,’ Percy said in a gruff whisper. Jenny gave them both a dig in the ribs.
Next was a thin man who played tunes on a line of glass jugs, containing varying amounts of water, which affected the ringing sound. He was followed by a couple who blew amazing soap bubbles in rainbow hues.
The O’Flahertys were the penultimate act before the interval – Carlos and Carmen were to round off the first half.
The audience expected to hear the old favourites. The Rose of Tralee and I’ll Take You Home Again, Kathleen brought tears to the eyes, those wistful songs so often sung by homesick soldiers during the w
ar prompted heartfelt singing-along.
Then Brendan sprang his surprise. He came front stage, looking down on the upturned faces in the front row. The spotlight wavered, then illuminated a startled Jenny.
‘You all know Mrs Jenny Wren, I’m sure, from the Swan Inn, who sometimes plays the piano at the picture house. Stand up, Jenny, and take a bow! Will you sing for us?’
Jenny, rosy-cheeked and crowned by her Sunday hat, rose to the challenge like the old trouper she was. She allowed Paddy and Danny to escort her on to the stage, and waved away the offer of a microphone. Before she could ask, ‘What would you like me to sing?’ a piano was wheeled on from the wings and she was invited to accompany herself. A whisper in her ear, and her voice soared to the beams above: My old man said foller the van, and don’t dilly-dally on the way! Maybe she wasn’t as mesmerizing as her idol, Marie Lloyd, but the applause was deafening. Jenny was a star!
She blew a kiss to Percy, who was grinning proudly,
‘How do we follow that?’ Brendan asked, as Jenny rejoined her companions. But they did, and brought the house down. It was, after all, the grand finale for the O’Flaherty family.
Carlos and Carmen gave their usual dazzling performance, leaving the audience wondering whether they could surpass that in the second half.
During the interval May slipped quietly away, as prearranged. ‘Change behind the screen,’ Carmen told her.
Carlos was seated at the long mirror, arranging his hair. As May glanced at his reflection, he said only, ‘You have come, then.’
‘Yes. To make Mum happy,’ she said firmly.
May recognized the costume which her mother had hung over the side of the screen. It smelled a little musty, for it had not been worn by Carmen since she had put on weight. The ruffled skirt, the slightly faded peacock-blue material: this was the dress her mother had brought with her when she arrived in England from her native country as a girl, around May’s own age. As a small child, May had been allowed to try on the dress just once, when Carmen was in a mellow mood. Now, it fitted her perfectly. She slipped her feet into Carmen’s spare pair of dancing-shoes. They both took size four.
When she emerged from behind the screen Carmen indicated a stool behind the long counter. ‘I will see to your hair, and your make-up. Carlos, you can leave us now, but mind you do not be long at the bar.’ She took up a brush, swept May’s hair away from her face, pinned it back firmly, then draped a towel around her shoulders. ‘Sit still, do not move,’ Carmen commanded. ‘No comment!’ she added, as May opened her mouth to ask that she go easy on the greasepaint.
Close up, the finished effect was startling and May bit her lip. She thought: oh dear, I don’t look like me at all!
‘It will appear good from a distance; to the audience you will be the beautiful young Carmen,’ her mother said firmly.
‘I would rather have my hair loose, even if it has to be combed back off my forehead,’ May returned. She was aware that Paddy liked her hair in that style.
Carmen removed the restraining pins. ‘You can wear it so, because you are young.’ As a final touch she decided on a pair of small glittering combs. ‘Sit still a little longer, while I fasten these!’
Someone knocked on the door. Startled, they both looked round.
‘Whoever is that?’ Carmen said sharply. ‘I asked that we be not disturbed. You need to be quiet before you go on stage.’
The door handle turned, and Paddy was revealed. He had obviously overheard Carmen’s remarks. ‘I will only be a minute, I promise, I just want to give May a good-luck token,’ he said.
‘Please, Mum, let him in,’ May put in quickly as she took in Carmen’s exasperation at the interruption.
Carmen sighed, moved aside. ‘Come in then, but be quick.’ She went behind the screen to tidy up.
Paddy fastened the silver chain with the drop amber pendant round May’s neck. He gently stroked her hair back into place. The stone nestled in the hollow of her throat, warm against her skin. So it is true what they say about amber, she thought. For a brief moment he rested his chin on the crown of her head, his hands on her shoulders, as together they gazed at their reflections in the glass. It almost seemed as if they were embracing. The moment passed; he stepped back.
‘I thought …’ she faltered.
‘You thought it was for my mother – well, I was going to give it to you when we say goodbye, then I decided I would do it now,’ he said.
‘It’s lovely, Paddy. Thank you. I’ll keep it for ever!’
‘Good luck,’ he told her. ‘Well, I’d better go – the minute is up!’
Carmen re-emerged with an armful of clothes to hang over the screen.
‘Look, Mum – isn’t this a special gift?’ May said tentatively to Carmen.
‘From a special young man, I think,’ Carmen said unexpectedly. She quickly composed herself. ‘To remember him by. These … youthful affections, I must tell you, rarely last for long.’
I’m not going to argue with her, May decided. Not tonight.
May waited in the wings, trying to compose herself, while Carlos and Carmen repeated the performance they had given to such acclaim on their first night on the pier. After the puppet bowed to the assembly and was then manipulated to float silently upwards and over the big screen, it was May’s cue to move into the spotlight, on stage. A banner unfurled the length of the screen: INTRODUCING YOUNG CARMEN.
In the shadows Carlos bent over his guitar, and the dancing began. May knew that her friends must be watching with bated breath, willing her to do well, but she did not look directly at them, for fear of missing a step.
It was like a dream, unreal, but she concentrated on what she had learned over the past weeks from her mother. All she was aware of was the music, the stamping of her feet, the swish of her skirts.
Tonight, she was Young Carmen, not Young May Moon.
She took three curtain calls, the first two by herself, the final one flanked by her mother and Carlos. May looked down at the first row of seats then, and saw her friends waving and smiling. Pomona was on her feet, clapping her hands over her head in her excitement.
‘You see,’ Carmen whispered in her ear, ‘you were born to dance, like me.’
‘I didn’t know … I didn’t realize,’ May whispered, but she knew her success would not alter anything. They were going home to the farm; she would keep her vow to look after Pomona, to provide a stable background for her and to work to provide for them both.
They were driven back to the Swan in Percy’s motor. Pomona hugged her tight and breathed, ‘You were wonderful!’
Later, while May was supervising Toby’s nightly run around the meadow, without the pups tagging along for once, she was joined by Paddy. He slipped an arm around her waist as Toby disappeared in and out of the bushes, sniffing hopefully for rabbits in the moonlight.
Paddy asked softly: ‘D’you mind if I kiss you, May? This is probably our only chance – with my brother and your sister always around, eh?’
‘I thought you’d never ask!’ May answered. She might sound bold, she thought, but she felt nervous at the same time. She guessed, rightly, that it was the same for him.
‘Are you still Young May Moon?’
‘Of course, I am,’ she said as she closed her eyes and waited for him make the first move. That kiss was a bit hit and miss, which actually caused them to relax, giggle, and then to try again.
‘Was that better?’ he asked.
‘I like the taste of your toothpaste!’ she joked, to dispel the intensity of her feelings. She hoped she didn’t sound out of breath, but that was the effect on her of their lingering kiss. She wondered if he knew that this was a new experience for her.
‘I’m glad you wiped your face clean of all that paint,’ he returned, ‘or the imprint of your red lips would have given the game away!’ He hoped she didn’t realize that he was inexperienced, too.
Toby barked. Time to get back to my family, they interpreted. Paddy kept his arm
around her as they walked back to the house.
What a special day it had been, for both of them.
Fourteen
THERE WAS AN autumnal nip in the air, and that chill mist off the sea, known as a fret, when May and Pomona waved goodbye to their good friends at the Swan, at just after 7 a.m. on Monday morning. They were leaving behind one member of the Punch and Judy show, Dog Toby. She was staying with Jenny and Percy until the pups were weaned.
‘We’ll drive over with Toby and Bertie to the farm in a couple of weeks time,’ Jenny promised. ‘Then we’ll take the pup back with us. Gertie should have been collected before that by her new family.’
‘I can’t wait!’ Danny was holding the wriggling puppy in his arms.
‘We have to get Grandpa’s permission – not that that will be a problem, but let us get settled in first!’ his mother reminded him.
‘Mum might have come along and wished us a good journey.’ Pomona was disappointed that Carmen had not put in an appearance. ‘But I suppose it’s too early.’
May had been thinking the same thing, but she made excuses for Carmen on this occasion, as she didn’t want Pomona to feel hurt.
‘Well, we said all we needed to say, on Saturday evening, when you were waiting for me in the dressing-room while Mum was cold-creaming my face and wiping off all the greasepaint, eh? She’s promised to keep in touch from now on, that’s the main thing. Anyway, if she’d made the effort to be here this morning, no doubt Carlos would have insisted on coming along too!’ I hope we’ve seen the last of him, she thought.
Smokey brayed reproachfully. He wasn’t used to an early start these days.
‘He’s telling us to get going,’ May said regretfully.
‘Safe journey! See you again soon!’ Then they were turning out of the yard, not left, as the donkey had become accustomed to do, but right, towards the bridge.
The river had recently been dredged, but there were still trails of slime clinging to the footings of the bridge. May made ready to step down from the trap. ‘Whoa! Smokey,’ she commanded.
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