‘You’re codding!’
‘You sound Irish. Where are you from?’
‘Dublin. I just arrived yesterday.’
Bella came downstairs and popped her head round the office door. ‘Hello, how are you? Have you come about the job?’
‘Yes, lucky me,’ Aileen said. ‘I only called in on the off chance.’
‘I’m pleased for yea.’ She wore a blue, baggy cardigan, the sleeves covering her hands like fingerless gloves. Aileen thought she was quite beautiful, with big eyes and lashes heavy with mascara. ‘Tarra.’ She gave a little wave and headed towards the yard.
When Aileen was leaving, she saw the man in the brown shop coat, his arms tightly wrapped around Bella; the way he was kissing the young girl made Aileen blush. They were standing against the shed, in full view of anyone who walked in or out of the yard. Aileen paused for a second before she hurried out. If he was the married man Mary had talked about, she had every reason to worry.
Although she felt she ought to, Aileen said nothing to Mary. She didn’t want to land Bella in any more trouble than she was in already. Besides, she wanted to get to know the other girl and find out what she was up to. So she put what she had seen in the yard out of her mind.
Later, as she sat with Mary in the front room, writing letters home, she couldn’t help wondering what it was that attracted Bella to a man that old. He must be in his thirties!
Chapter Fifteen
The following morning, Aileen had butterflies in her tummy and she could only manage a small piece of toast.
‘To tell the truth,’ Mary said, her expression downcast, ‘I’ve had nothing to eat myself, worrying about that young ‘un.’
‘Where is she? Has she left already then?’
‘I’ve not seen hide nor hair of her since she left yesterday mornin’.’
‘Really! Should we be worried?’ Aileen pulled on her jacket and slipped her feet into a pair of low-heeled shoes.
Mary followed her into the hall. ‘Blesses an save us, Aileen, I don’t know.’ She started up the stairs, then said, ‘I wish I hadn’t agreed to take her in.’ She sighed. ‘If yea see ‘er at work, tell ‘er I want a word.’
Aileen nodded and placed her letters for posting into her bag. She wondered where Bella had been all night.
Outside, the sky was overcast and she hoped it wouldn’t rain. A cold wind blew at her hair and around her ankles as she walked towards Cape Hill. She popped her letters into a postbox on the corner. The traffic was heavy, and she crossed at the pelican crossing.
She knew she could rely on Dermot and her Aunt Bead to reply. But she hoped her da would reply when he read her letter, and reconsider his decision to sell the shop. She longed to know how he was coping. If it hadn’t been for her aunt, she’d still be at home looking after him and the shop, like her ma had asked her to.
Her mother’s last request weighed heavily on her mind, but there was little she could do about it until someone decided to tell her the truth. In the meantime, she had a new job that she was looking forward to.
It was a bitter cold day. The wind swept through the yard and along the corridor, and Aileen closed the office door quickly behind her. Val was hunched inside her jacket, staring into space.
‘I’m a bit early.’
‘Sorry,' Val said. ‘I was miles away. If you’re warm enough, you can hang your jacket on the coatstand.’ She rubbed her hands together. ‘I’m keeping mine on. It’s bloody freezing in here.’ She began sorting through the paperwork. ‘About time we had some proper heating.’
Aileen smiled in spite of the cold. A one bar, infrared heater hung on the wall, too high up to be of any use. Their desks were linked together so they were facing each other, and with only one typewriter between them, she wondered what she was supposed to do. Val placed a pile of dockets and sheets in front of her. ‘You can be looking through these until your typewriter arrives.’
Miss Grimshaw hurried in. ‘Oh, there you are, Aileen. Are you settling in okay?’
‘Yes, thank you, Miss Grimshaw.’
Smiling, she bustled out again, and Aileen began scanning the work in front of her. Some of the handwriting made no sense to her whatsoever and might as well have been written in Chinese.
The office door opened, and a short man of about fifty, in a grey suit, burst in with a typewriter in his arms. He placed the black Remington down on Aileen’s desk. ‘I hope you’ll be happy here, Miss Maguire.’
‘I’m sure I will, thank you.’
He glanced over at Val, head down typing, and her jacket now around her shoulders. He rubbed his hands. ‘I’m sorry it’s not very warm in here. I’ll have someone put up a partition by the door to keep out the draught.’
‘The sooner, the better, Mr Bill,’ Val said.
Aileen was surprised at the casual way in which Val had addressed the boss, but he just nodded and went down the corridor towards his office.
‘He’s a nice old sod,’ Val said. ‘Better than some I’ve worked for.’ She was a fast typist; three times faster than Aileen. ‘If you get stuck with anything, let me know.’
‘How many people work here?’
‘Miss Grimshaw and three others in accounts, including Bella—two are part-timers. Alan and Bob in the yard; you, me, and the boss.’ She half smiled. ‘Oh, and we have a company sales rep, Mr Pickering. He covers most of the West Midlands.’ Val shrugged and tugged at the sleeves of her jumper. ‘We don’t see much of him. Just as well. He’s a bit strange.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Doo no. There’s something about him that gives me the creeps. Good at his job, though, according to Miss Grimshaw. I think that’s everyone.’ She continued to type.
The work was simple; it was the handwriting that Aileen had problems with. ‘Whose writing is this?’ She held up one of the sheets.
‘That’ll be Alan’s. Some will be Bob’s, but mostly Alan, as he takes down the orders. I’ll do that one, and when Alan comes in, I’ll ask him to write clearer until you get used to it.’
Aileen passed it across, then picked up the next one and began to type. Val leant across the desk. ‘Can I ask you something, Aileen?’
Aileen glanced up. ‘Sure.’
‘Are you seeing anyone?’
Aileen frowned. She hadn’t heard the expression before. ‘Oh, you mean, am I going out with anyone?’ She smiled. 'Well, yes and no. There’s someone back home I like. What about you?’
‘We had a falling out last night. You know, and I’m still angry with ‘im.’
‘What did you fall out about?’
‘He wanted me to stay over.’
‘Stay over where?’
‘Where do you think? At his ‘ouse!’
Aileen wasn’t sure how to respond. ‘What about his Ma and Da?’
Val shrugged. ‘They’re away. Anyways, I said no. It’s not as if we were engaged.’
‘How long have you been going out with him?’
‘Eighteen months. I wanted to get engaged on my birthday last March, but he wants to wait. “Wait for what?” I said. He keeps making excuses. What would you do?’
Aileen was in no position to give advice on boyfriends. She’d never had one for more than a week at a time at school and college until she met Dermot. ‘I don’t know, I–’
The phone rang out, and at the same time, Alan popped his head through the hatch, mumbling something completely incoherent. His voice was more garbled with the noise filtering through from the yard, and he had to repeat his request twice before she grasped what he wanted.
Her face flushed, she quickly flicked through to find the order then handed it to him. He crossed something out and scribbled in something else and handed it back, just as Val replaced the phone.
‘Alan, can you write clearer until Aileen gets used to things?’ Mumbling under his breath, he left. ‘Take no notice,’ Val said. ‘He can be a moody devil. You’ll get used to him.’
Aileen wasn’t too sur
e about that, but seeing him reminded her of Bella. ‘Val, have you seen Bella this morning?’
‘No. Why?’
‘She didn’t come back to the boarding house last night.’
‘I bet she’s upstairs now. She’ll have been with Alan. He’s only just arrived.’
‘What? You mean all night!’ Aileen placed the advice note she’d just typed on top of the pile.
‘Don’t worry. We’ve all had words with her, but she’s besotted. Anyhow, if Mr Bill finds out, it wouldn’t be good for Alan. He’s married, you know.’
‘What about his wife?’
Val shrugged, picked up the notes, and placed them in the tray. ‘Don’t get me wrong, I like Alan, but he’s, well, he’s immature for his age.’ Val shook her head. ‘I’m glad she doesn’t work in here; I’d never get ought done. She only has to bat those cow eyes of hers, and they all fall for her excuses. Miss Grimshaw is loath to lose any of the staff.’
‘What’s Bella’s job?’
‘She’s just a junior. She sorts the post, makes the tea, and everyone upstairs feels sorry for her. Her snooty parents threw her out.’ Val shrugged. ‘I think she’s a spoilt brat.’
‘Umm.’ The girl was trouble and Mary was worried about her behaviour, which was understandable. But Aileen found her fascinating and was looking forward to getting to know her.
By mid-morning, Aileen could hardly feel her feet, and she wished she had worn her ankle boots. She fetched her jacket, slipped her arms into it, and zipped it up.
‘I’ve had more colds since I’ve been working here,’ Val said. ‘I should have told you to wear warmer clothes.’
Alan stopped in, leaving the office door open. He went to the cabinet and began rummaging through files.
‘Shut the bloody door!’ Val screamed.
‘Keep yer ‘air on.’ He took a wad of sheets from his coat pocket and slammed them down on the desk, then closed the door none too quietly behind him.
Aileen sighed, flexed her cold fingers, and continued working. Time dragged. Typing advice notes all day was boring, but she needed to pay her way. She liked Val, admired the way she ran the downstairs office, and she guessed she could type with her eyes shut. She didn’t appear to mind how many times Aileen interrupted her.
Val offered her the early lunch hour, and she went upstairs to see if Bella wanted to go to the Cape for a sandwich. ‘No.’ Bella yawned. ‘I’m exhausted. Me head’s splitting. I’m going back to the lodgings for a kip. I’ll walk with you to the corner.’
She didn’t look well. Strands of her beehive hairdo had come loose and dangled down both sides of her face. Her mascara was smudged, and her face needed a wash.
‘Are you all right?’ Aileen asked as they walked along.
‘Yes.’ She giggled.
‘Mary worries about you, especially when you stop out.’ Aileen wondered how she could come to work looking like she did.
‘Well, she shouldn’t. I’m fine. Alan and me had a bit of a wild night.’ She giggled again.
‘Where did you go, then?’
‘To that new all-night club down the town.’
‘Aren’t you frightened of losing your job coming in late?’
‘I don’t care. There’s plenty of jobs.’
Aileen couldn’t believe her nonchalant attitude. She didn’t appear to worry about anything.
They parted company on the corner. Bella yawned again. ‘Tarra, might see yea later.’
Aileen shook her head and watched Bella totter unsteadily across the street, obviously suffering from a hangover.
Chapter Sixteen
Later that day, Aileen let herself into the B&B. Mary was mashing potatoes in a big aluminium saucepan, her hips swaying to the Beatles’ Can’t Buy Me Love on the wireless. Aileen smiled and stood with her shoulder against the doorjamb. She was pleased to see Mary was in a good mood and wondered how she had reacted when Bella arrived back in the middle of the day looking like she’d slept in a barn.
Mary turned round. ‘Spying on me, are yea?’
‘Course not. I love that song, too. Can I help?’
‘You’re all right.’ Mary placed the lid on the saucepan, picked up a string of fat sausages, and began to cut off a few links and place them along with a lump of lard into the black frying pan. ‘There’s tea in the pot if yea fancy one.’
Aileen sat down. ‘Mary, have you seen Bella?’
‘Not a bit o’ ‘er.’ She emptied a plate of chopped onion into the pan and wiped her runny eyes with the bottom of her apron. ‘I don’t know what I’m goona do about that young ‘un. Anyways, how’d yea get on?’
‘Okay, I guess. Val, the girl I work with, is nice. Don’t have any trouble understanding her; well, just a little bit. But some of the others, especially Alan, the foreman, he talks like his teeth are wired.’
‘Ger off with yea.’ They both laughed.
The smell of the fried onions made her hungry. ‘I wonder where Bella got to then?’
‘What’d yea mean? Didn’t she turn up for work?’
‘She left early. Said she was coming back here for a kip.’
‘Did she now? Well, I’ve not seen ‘err. What time was that?’
‘Lunch time.’
‘Keep yer eye on the pan, Aileen, I’ll goo up and check. If she is up there, she’ll feel the sharp end of my tongue.’
‘I’ll go, Mary.’ Aileen placed her hand on the older woman’s arm.
‘Tell her, she’s not getting out ‘f ‘ere tonight until we get a few things straight,’ Mary called, as Aileen hurried out and up the stairs. She rapped on Bella’s door.
‘Who is it?’
‘It’s Aileen. Can I come in?’
There was no answer, so Aileen slowly opened the door. Bella sat on the edge of her bed, a letter in her hand.
‘Are you all right?’ Aileen sat down next to her.
‘What’s it to you?’
‘Sorry, I was just trying to be friendly. Besides, Mary wants to talk to you.’
‘What’s she want now?’
Aileen stood up. ‘Why don’t you come down and find out?’
‘Don’t go.’ She touched Aileen’s arm. ‘I’ve no-one to talk to. A letter arrived today from me mum. I was too tired to read it earlier, and I’ve only just opened it.’
‘So that’s good, isn’t it?’
‘Depends! She wants us to come ‘ome. They threw me out when they found out about Alan. Now she’s kicked me stepdad out, and she wants me back.’
‘What will you do?’
Bella stood up and pulled at the sleeves of her oversized jumper, her short, black miniskirt barely visible under her long jumper.
‘I can’t goo,’ she said. ‘I wouldn’t see Alan. We’re goon’ to have a baby together.’
Aileen’s jaw dropped. ‘No! You’re not, are you?’
‘Noo,’ Bella giggled. ‘But we’re goona.’
Aileen shook her head. ‘Why would you want a baby with Alan? He’s already married, isn’t he?’ Aileen wanted to advise her. After all, the girl was only sixteen and not very mature at that. But she hardly knew her, so maybe she should keep her thoughts to herself.
‘Sometimes I think I love him,’ Bella said dreamily. ‘And other times I’m not sure.’
Mary called from downstairs, interrupting their conversation.
‘What do you think I should do?’ Bella continued.
‘Me!’ Aileen hadn’t expected that. ‘Well, I’d think about it carefully, especially if you’re not sure how you feel about Alan.’
‘Would you go back ‘ome after being knocked about and thrown out?’ She sat down at the dressing table and began to retouch her long lashes, already caked in mascara.
Mary called again. ‘This tea won’t stay hot for long. What yea doing up there, cookin’ up a story?’
‘Look we’d better go down before Mary comes up.’
‘So, run along then, Miss Goody Two Shoes.’ ‘Please yourself,’
* * *
‘Now,’ Mary began when Aileen and Bella were seated in front of a plate of sausage and mash. ‘Get that down yea.’ Then she leant across to Bella. ‘You and me’s goon’ to have an ‘eart to ‘eart. Okay?’
Bella nodded. She glanced across the table at Aileen, her large eyes misty, and Aileen saw a vulnerability she hadn’t noticed before.
When they had finished eating, Mary took Bella into the front room and closed the door. Aileen sat in the kitchen, her fingers crossed that the girl wouldn’t have to leave, although she knew that Mary had had enough of Bella’s behaviour. From the room, she could hear angry voices—mostly Bella’s raised in defiance as Mary spoke her mind.
‘You’re just jealous!’ Bella yelled, then she stomped out into the hall, pulled on her coat, and went out.
‘You’re on your last warning, my girl,’ Mary called after her, her face flushed.
That went well then, Aileen thought, as Mary turned towards her.
‘She might not care about her reputation, but she’s not giving this house a bad name.’
Aileen wanted to run after Bella. To try and persuade her to see sense. Instead, she ended up making a cup of tea for Mary, who continued to be infuriated by the girl’s impertinence.
Later, as Aileen came out of the bathroom, she overheard Mary in conversation on the telephone. ‘No. This arrangement isn’t working,’ she was saying. ‘The girl’s underage and she shouldn’t be cavorting with a married man twice her age. So you’d better come and collect your daughter, or I won’t be held responsible for what happens.’
* * *
The following evening, Aileen was surprised when Mary opened the door to a woman in her late forties. Her dress was impeccable, and she stepped into the hall wearing court shoes, gloves, and had a handbag dangling from her shoulder. She had a young girl of about ten by her side.
Dublin's Fair City Page 8
