by Maeve Binchy
Aisling looked up. Her face was very pale. ‘What? What are you saying?’
Niamh was shocked. ‘No, nothing, I don’t know if he was really with her or not, you know, it’s just Anna Barry and all those, their sisters tell them gossip. I’m sure it’s all made up. …’
‘Oh my God.’
Niamh was frightened now. She scrambled off the chair where she had been kneeling. ‘Listen, I said there was nothing in it, I was only repeating eejity old things, Aisling, it’s all right … sure don’t you know he fancies you like mad? Aisling answer me … don’t you know …?’
‘It’s Elizabeth’s mother, she’s … she’s tried to kill herself and Harry … my God isn’t that desperate. …’
Niamh was open-mouthed.
‘She’s in a mental home … oh, I don’t know whether Mam told you or not, she doesn’t tell you things sometimes … anyway, Harry … he was sitting talking to her quite normally, and she said she wanted him to cut off a trailing string from her cardigan with a penknife and when he took it out of his pocket she grabbed it and stuck it into him first and then her. Oh God, isn’t that terrible.’
‘And did she kill him …?’
‘No, but he had to have eleven stitches, and now she’s in a different ward, almost a cell I think, and she can’t have normal visitors and she thinks there’s going to be another war … and she says she couldn’t live through another one. Oh why do all these bloody things happen to Elizabeth …? It’s so unfair.’
‘Did Elizabeth go to see her?’
‘Oh yes, she’s been up there in the north of England for a week. She’s written from there, but she’s probably back in London by now. There’s nothing anyone can do, and she’s spent a week on her own going from the one hospital to the other and back to the little shop on her own at night. Did you ever hear of anything so awful?’
‘But her boyfriend … would he go up and help her? Why isn’t he there …?’
‘Because he’s a real beaut, that’s why, he’s the cat’s pyjamas, that fellow, there’ll be a good reason why he could never be involved in any trouble. …’
‘I thought you liked him, you said he was smashing-looking. …’
‘He looks like a Greek god. That doesn’t make him any help though.’
‘If these kind of things happened to you, I bet Tony Murray would stick by you … God forbid, if Mam went mad and stabbed Dad.’
‘Niamh will you shut your stupid face and go away?’
‘I’m just telling you to count your blessings that’s all … that’s all. I’m being sensible, I’m being grown-up. It’s you, you’re the one with the silly face. …’ Niamh left the room in confusion.
Aisling sat down and tried to decide, would Tony Murray be any use in a crisis? Well, there was no point in pretending that he would be a tower of strength but he would certainly be there. He might not know the solution or even be able to suggest a plan, but he would be standing there solidly with his face cross and scowling, which was the way it got when he had to cope with something unpleasant, He was definitely sympathetic rather than unsympathetic too. Aisling sat and thought it all out. Whenever she had been upset about Donal’s bad chest he had patted her on her back and let her cry. She had sobbed that she thought Donal might not be able to breathe during the night and might die, and Tony had considered this with a cross face and said no, it wasn’t likely. Tony wouldn’t run away to Dublin or back to Limerick or over to England if there was any crisis.
Very deliberately, Aisling combed her hair, and put on a little green eyeshadow. She drew a line behind her eyelashes which she normally only did when she was going to a dance. She put on her best blouse and her new shoes, she got out the pale turquoise suit that she had only worn once to mass. Then she scribbled a note to Mam who had gone on one of her rare visits to Maureen and Brendan.
Mam,
I’m leaving you Elizabeth’s letter to read, isn’t it really desperate news? Maybe we might ask her to come over here for a bit of a rest. I’m going up to Murrays’ for a bit now. I’ll be home later, before ten. If you haven’t gone to bed we might have a bit of a chat. I hope all the Daly Ogs weren’t too exhausting. By the way I gave out to Niamh and she’ll probably be sulking. She’s too pushy for twelve in my view, but then I suppose I was too.
Love,
Aisling
Dear Aisling,
You’re right, it’s like acting a part in a play, isn’t it? Writing to congratulate you and wish you every happiness. But I mean it, I mean it so much. I hope that you will be happy every day and every night and always. I am so looking forward to meeting him, but I know, and presumably Tony knows, that it’s never going to be as you hope. You’ve probably bored him to death about me, and all our adventures, and he will be disappointed. And I of course can’t see and won’t see in him all the things you love, so I too will be acting a bit. But isn’t it marvellous? You are so good in the middle of all your excitements to write so long about my problems, but why should you feel guilty about all your good news coinciding with Mother’s decline? That’s what it is now, there’s not any real hope, and even Harry knows it. He’s fine again, and there’s an awfully nice social worker who cheers him up. He’s so very very kind; that’s the one good thing that’s come out of all this, at least I’ve uncovered the sheer kindness of Harry Elton. Remember how terrified of him I used to be? Stefan Worsky sends you his love and so does Anna. They are utterly delighted, they want photographs and long descriptions. Johnny sends you a card, I’ll put it in the envelope. And of course I’ll come to the wedding, try to keep me away. Of course I don’t want to be a bridesmaid, I understand all the business about Protestants officiating at sacraments. I bet your explanation is not at all sound, but I know the thinking of Rome so there’s no panic. It’s nice of you to ask if Johnny would like to come too but I think I’ll just refuse for him without saying anything. I’d prefer to come back to Kilgarret on my own. Only three months now, and you’ll be a Mrs, but for me, the most exciting thing is that I’ll see you all again. My accent is not posh by the way, over here it’s considered very middle class.
I’m so pleased, Aisling, and so very very happy and hopeful for you:
love,
Elizabeth
Hi Aisling,
Elizabeth tells me you settled for the Squire. If he turns out to be a mistake come back here and we’ll show you a good time. Happy days.
Johnny Stone
Mam had told her to try to pay a bit more attention to Maureen.
‘But why should I pay her any attention?’ wailed Aisling. ‘She’s never done criticising me, I’m too forward, I’m too backward, I’ve shocked Brendan’s aunt, I’ve scandalised them all, I’ve stood on Patrick’s toys. It’s a catalogue of complaints as soon as you get in the door of that place, why should I give her a bit more attention?’
‘Well, she’s feeling a bit in the shadow. There’s more fuss about your wedding than there was about hers, she’s tied down with three small children miles out of the town and all she hears is the excitement of your big day, your wedding dress. …’
‘Well, she doesn’t hear it from me, I’m never blowing about things now am I?’
‘Of course you’re not child, but can’t you be generous, try to put yourself in her position? She’s feeling a bit matronly and it would be nice if you brought her back into things. Just a bit.’
‘It’s a long old cycle Mam, and for nothing at the end of it.’
‘In a few months you can drive your husband’s car up there, so don’t pity yourself too much. Take her a pot of gooseberry jam from the kitchen. And tell her I’ll be over tomorrow.’
Mam was right, Maureen did seem in a very low spirit. She was surprised to see Aisling sailing up to the door on the bicycle.
‘Well now, to what do we owe the honour of this?’ she asked sourly. Brendan Og had jam all around his face and his feet were filthy from waddling around the yard. The twins in their pram set up a great wailing a
t the arrival of a new distraction. Aisling thought they all looked revolting and the worst advertisement for marriage that you could find, but she knew by now that you could criticise everything except children.
‘Hallo, pets,’ she cooed insincerely. She still didn’t know which one was which. ‘Patrick and Peggy, say hallo to your old Auntie Aisling, will you? Of course you will.’ She turned to Maureen. ‘Aren’t they gorgeous?’ she said, hoping that God wouldn’t strike her dead.
‘Oh, they’re gorgeous to you passing by once in a blue moon,’ said Maureen. ‘They’re not so gorgeous when you have to live with them morning noon and night. Here, Brendan Og, come back at once. Don’t dare to walk into the house with all that mud on you. Did you want something, Aisling, or were you just passing by?’
Aisling gritted her teeth. How could she be passing by? Once you had cycled the three miles to Daly’s, where else was there to go? Wasn’t Maureen becoming an old sourpuss? But she remembered Mam.
‘No, I thought I’d come out and have a bit of a chat with you. You know, married woman and all. Maybe you could set me straight on a few things.’
Maureen looked at her suspiciously, ‘I thought you knew more than any of us about how life is lived,’ she sniffed.
‘Come on, Maureen, come on, I show off like we all show off but what do I know, living at home with Mam to deal with everything?’
‘True, you’ve had it nice and sheltered. Still it’s into a sheltered life you’ll be going now. I suppose the Murrays are laying on a maid to welcome you back from the honeymoon. …’
‘You can’t be serious, Maureen, you’re having me on? Don’t you know what kind of a woman my future mother-in-law is …? She’d give you a pain in the bottom. …’
Maureen was thawing a bit. ‘Oh well, they say that Ethel Murray is a bit grand all right. …’
‘She’s dreadful. You’re dead lucky here, I mean Brendan’s mother is fine, isn’t she? You always have her around the place or you used to.’
‘She’s not that great shakes either, between ourselves. Come on in, and I’ll make you some tea. Brendan Og, I’ll give you a belt across the legs if you kick up any more of that dirt against the door. I don’t know what we have that great clutch of hens for, they don’t lay all winter, I’m sick to death of feeding them, another of Mrs Helpful Daly’s ideas. Wait till you hear the half of it. …’
Eamonn refused point blank to be an usher.
‘I’ll have no talk about it, Mam, not a word. If the fancy Murrays think for one minute that I’m going to dress up in a hired fancy dress and ask people we’ve known all our bloody lives are they for the bride’s side or the groom’s side of the church … they’ve got another think coming. I’d be the laughing stock of the town … there’d be a crowd from Hanrahan’s pub crowding the church just to have a laugh at me.’
‘They wouldn’t get in, it’s my wedding,’ said Aisling with spirit.
‘They’d have to get in, it’s the House of God … everyone gets in,’ said Eamonn.
‘Just one day, as a favour Eamonn, just four hours, five at most, then you can go back to your friends in Hanrahan’s. Please?’
‘Crowd of idle layabouts in Hanrahan’s pub anyway,’ said Sean.
‘You weren’t ever in there Da,’ said Eamonn.
‘I wouldn’t want to go in there when I see what comes out. Listen here, Eamonn, the wedding is for your mother and your sister, it’s got nothing to do with us. One of these days some unfortunate half-witted girl will agree to marry you and her unfortunate brothers and father will have to dress themselves up like buffoons, and what’s more, spend a great deal of money on a meal and a lot of nonsense … so will you shut up and do it – it’s one of those things like cutting your toe-nails, no one likes doing it, but it has to be done. …’
‘Dad I’ll not do it, I’ll leave the town, I’ll leave home. You can’t ask me to do it, not to please anyone. Mam, take it seriously. Suppose I asked you to walk around the square here, seriously now, in your knickers, would you do it to please me, Mam, of course you wouldn’t, you’d say it was making a fool of yourself, and making yourself look ridiculous in front of your friends, no matter how much I wanted you to do it. …’
‘Eamonn keep a clean tongue in your head, don’t dream of speaking to your mother like that.’
Suddenly Aisling interrupted. ‘No, I think he’s right, he’d hate it, he’d not be able to do it. Why ask him to?’
Eamonn looked up nervously, sensing a trap.
‘No, I’m serious, Eamonn, I thought you’d look nice in a suit. All kinds of old gobdaws, much worse-looking than you, look terrific when they’re dolled up, they’d make you look at them twice. But no, what you said is right. If you wanted Mam or me to dress up like Red Indians or something for your wedding we wouldn’t. No, forget it. We’ll get some friend of Tony’s to do it with Donal. The trouble is most of Tony’s friends are about a hundred, but that doesn’t matter, he must have some youngish friends.’
Eamonn’s mouth was open, a combination of relief and disbelief. ‘God, Aisling, I won’t forget it, I really won’t. Mam you understand, don’t you?’
‘Don’t be a baby.’ Aisling was very cold. ‘You’ve got your way, don’t look for a pat on the back as well. You’re off the hook. I have to go and face that battle-axe of a Mrs Murray and explain why we need another usher.’
‘What will you say?’
Aisling looked at him innocently. ‘Well, what you said, that your friends from Hanrahan’s would come into the house of God and make a disruption for some reason, and that four hours is too long, even though poor Donal’s going to stick it.’
‘Don’t tell her that… it’s making an awful clown out of me … don’t put it like that.’
‘But what other way can I put it? Tell me. I can’t say that you’re sick, otherwise you’ll have to go to bed. I mean I have to tell the truth, don’t I?’
‘What will she say?’
‘She’ll be livid, like she is about everything. She’ll say that that’s all she might have expected, and that’s what’s so bloody unfair, because she’s constantly expecting rotten things and everything else is going marvellously. Daddy’s booked a great wedding breakfast, and paid for extra waitresses during the meal, and Mam has got everyone gorgeous clothes and I’ve behaved like an archangel I’m so good, so the old bag has nothing to complain about. Still, I do think you’re right. If it’s that awful for you, and if they’re going to invade the church, then you’re right not to do it.’
‘I didn’t say they’d invade the church … some of them mightn’t even hear of it until it was over.’
‘No. Eamonn, if it’s as bad as that you’d better not. Here Mam, throw me over my jacket, I’ll go and talk to the old demon and get it over.’
‘Oh I’ll do it, I’ll do it,’ Eamonn shouted. He left the room deaf to the protestations and assurances.
‘Oh, you’re learning fast,’ Mam laughed. ‘Go on now … you’ve won that battle, you probably have quite a few more to fight before the big day.’
‘You’re right, Mam,’ sighed Aisling, thinking of Tony. He had been very irritable last night. Since they would be married in five weeks time why couldn’t she take her hand away and give over all this modesty bit? What difference did five weeks make one way or the other? Aisling couldn’t think but she had a feeling that somehow it would make a difference and she felt it would be like giving up on some game if she were to give in now.
And Maureen had blossomed a lot with Aisling’s visits. She, in turn, began to get an unexpected and not at all welcome idea about how lonely Maureen’s life must be. Mam was right to have urged her to share the wedding with her sister. Maureen was obviously very short of excitement out in that dreary place. It was neither farm nor private house … a big awkward building almost on the side of the road with four acres stretching up behind it. No crops, only a few geese, a donkey, hens, a sheepdog and other farmers using the land as grazing. Maureen�
��s attempts to make a garden had been ridiculed by the Daly clan, but her newfound ally, Aisling, seemed to regard this as a challenge.
‘You don’t understand, they think in terms of getting value out of the land, they’d think a garden was a stupid town idea, you know, ideas above my station. You can’t eat flowers. …’
‘But act the innocent, the flowers sort of grew … don’t be telling them that you’re planting a garden, do the work when there’s no one around. I’ll help you, I’ll bring out a few plants and seeds, sure Dad has them in the shop, I’ll say it’s for a present for you. You can blame me.’
‘God, Aisling, you’re learning fast, you’ll be well able for the Murrays.’
‘I think I’ll need to be.’
Indeed, Mrs Murray had been surprised to discover that the O’Connors were held in much higher esteem than she had believed. An established business in the town and well thought of. All the children bright and able to give account for themselves, except perhaps for the brother who hung about the doorway of Hanrahan’s public house on Saturdays or at closing time of an evening. Aisling was well-spoken and would look presentable as a bride. There were even those who described her glowingly and said she was one of the most attractive girls in Kilgarret. It wasn’t what she had hoped for, but then Mrs Murray sighed and realised that she hadn’t got a lot of the things she had hoped for. Joannie was vague and mysterious about her life in Dublin and threw tantrums and caused scenes if any criticism was suggested. She invited no friends to stay, and seemed to need an unending allowance to supplement what she earned with the wine importers. She had developed no sense of business and saintly Mr Meade said that he didn’t think she had any commercial leaning towards running the family firm.
A priest in the family was a consolation, and John would be ordained next year. But somehow she had hoped that her son might be a short-cut to understanding and help; she had hoped that John would have words of consolation and open up brighter paths for her to believe in when things were bad. But in fact he was still her son, complaining when Tony took all the hot water for the bath, saying that Joannie was loud and on his last visit he had been disappointed with the front of Murray’s, saying that it looked shabby and run down. He said that his father would not like to think that the place was being neglected and this had managed to annoy every single person who heard him say it. Mrs Murray had expected a priest in the family to smooth down troubles, not to add to them. But at least John had been helpful about the honeymoon and had said Tony and Aisling should attend a papal audience, where they would get their papal benediction personally from the hands of the Pope. Mrs Murray had told a lot of people about this, it was one of the high spots. She had said to Tony that sometimes she woke up in the middle of the night and thought about it. Her son kissing the ring of Pope Pius XII, actually there in the same room as him. It used to send a shiver down her spine. Tony had said that he agreed, the Pope did look a bit spooky; he’d probably send a shiver down anyone’s spine. Mrs Murray had been extremely upset.
