Jean Grainger Box Set: So Much Owed, Shadow of a Century, Under Heaven's Shining Stars

by Jean Grainger

  ‘He’d have a bigger fit if he catches you smoking,’ he smiled. ‘Well then, what are we going to do? We could just ignore the letter, or write back telling her to get lost, but then we’d always be wondering, wouldn’t we? Or I can write back and say we’ll come up on the train, but we won’t stay over or anything and just meet her, hear what she has to say, and if we don’t like it, never see her again. Agreed?’

  Juliet sighed, taking a long drag on her cigarette. ‘People think I’m the bossy one, you know? But in the end, we always end up doing what you say. Oh well, I suppose I’m a bit curious about what she’s like, but I think she is going to be a stuck-up old cow and we’re going to hate her.’

  ‘Quite possibly, but we’ll never know unless we go. Now, will we tell Solange, or not?’

  ‘Well, definitely not a word to Daddy, and I think it’s better to say nothing to Solange either, just in case. She never lied to us about anything, but this is different. There must be a reason she won’t talk about Edith, so maybe let’s hear what she has to say first and then we can talk to Solange afterwards – when we have some information. We can say I’m going up to Dublin to visit Mary from school. You can come with me. They’ll be grand with that. It’s probably a good idea to put some distance between us and Daddy at the moment, anyway. Maybe by the time we come back, he’ll have calmed down, or maybe Solange will have got him to see sense.’

  ‘Maybe, but you know what he’s like. At least Solange thinks you becoming a doctor is a good idea. I’m not sure she’s as enthusiastic about my career choice,’ James said ruefully. ‘Maybe they’re right. I mean it’s not much of a career, is it?’

  ‘James Buckley!’ Juliet admonished. ‘Is that how determined you are? The first hurdle and you decide to give up? Sure, why not just sign up for medicine now and be done with it if that’s your attitude. Spend the next forty years listening to auld ones going on about their phlegm! I thought you set your heart on being an artist? Well, that doesn’t sound very heart-set to me. You’ll just have to stand up to him. You know he’ll come round in the end.’

  James laughed and jumped from the tree, offering his sister a hand to get down. ‘Yeah, yeah, you’re so brave with all your big talk. Let’s see how brave you are when Daddy refuses to pay your fees!’

  Chapter 12

  The train slowly puffed into Kingsbridge station. The twins had booked into a hotel on the quays and felt very grown up when they checked in. Their father and Solange trusted them, so when they said they were visiting Juliet’s school friend Mary Sheridan who lived in Rathmines, they simply accepted it.

  ‘I wish we hadn’t lied,’ James said as he lay on one of the two single beds.

  ‘Telling the truth would have been worse. They would have refused us permission or even worse, have insisted on coming with us. At least this way we get to meet her and make up our own minds. I’m kind of dreading it though. Are you?’ Juliet stood at the window with her back to her brother, watching the hustle and bustle on the quays.

  ‘I suppose I am, but I’m looking forward to it a bit, too. I’ve always wondered about her,’ he said. ‘Mrs Canty half said there was someone else and that’s why she left, but you know Mrs Canty and her yarns. What will we call her? It’s going to sound stupid calling her Mammy or Mother or whatever, but I don’t know if we should call her Edith either. What do you think?’

  Juliet considered for a moment. ‘I think we don’t call her anything. Just say: hello, how are you, and let her do the talking. I’m damned if I’m making it easy on her. She summoned us up here, she contacted us, so let her do the work.’

  ‘You’re probably right. God, I’m starving, will we go and get a bag of chips? I think the funds will stretch to that, but we’d better keep some in case we have to pay for the tea tomorrow. I’d say the Shelbourne will be fierce dear.’ James looked worried.

  ‘Go way out of that, you big dope, she’ll be paying for the tea. Sure, hasn’t she great notions of herself, and she is our long lost Mama after all. If she can’t stand us a cup of tea after all these years, then things are very bad altogether,’ Juliet laughed. ‘C’mon let’s go down to Beshoffs, they’re supposed to have gorgeous chips, and we might even share a fish.’

  Over fish and chips and steaming mugs of tea, they chatted easily.

  ‘Wouldn’t it be great to live in Dublin?’ Juliet sighed. ‘It’s so busy and loads of people and no one knowing or caring about your business? When I qualify, I’m going to travel, see the world, London, New York, even. Look at the style here, everyone all done up to the nines. They don’t make this much effort in Dunderrig on Christmas Day even. The state of half of them down there, with their good “shtrong” shoes and fine heavy overcoats.’

  James laughed at her impersonation of the West Cork accent. ‘I think Dunderrig people have the right attitude – they dress for the weather.’

  He was always quicker to defend their home. Juliet was the one who was dazzled by the films and the style they saw at the pictures. She was as beautiful as a film star herself – she turned people’s heads wherever she went, the girls in envy and the men in admiration. Most of the time, she didn’t even notice. Danny Dalton and the rest of them were dreaming if they thought she would look sideways at them. James knew that his sister had much bigger plans than marrying anyone from within fifty miles of Dunderrig.

  ‘I don’t know about living here,’ he replied. ‘I like Dunderrig, the way we know everyone and the way you can see the seasons. In a city, there’s no real way of seeing the seasons change. And everyone is in such a rush all the time. I think I’m more suited to country life.’

  Juliet gazed at him. Girls at school often asked her if she and James were telepathic – if one was hurt or sad, would the other know, wherever they were? Juliet always laughed and said that she had no clue what was going on her brother’s head and that from her limited experience of what boys think about, that was something for which she was eternally grateful. However, when she and James were together, they did seem to know instinctively what the other was thinking. Not in the way the girls at school imagined; it was just that she knew him so well, she could gauge his mood without him saying anything. She recalled Solange telling her that it was the same with her and Jeremy – they just knew each other so profoundly that often words were superfluous. It was like that with James.

  ‘Would it be so bad, being a doctor like Daddy? You love Dunderrig, and you’ll probably marry someone who feels that way about it, too. You’ve a ready-made practice there, waiting for you. God knows, you’re miles more intelligent than me so the studying would be no bother to you. Are you sure you’re not being too hasty? You could still paint in your spare time.’ Juliet’s tone was light but her question was serious. ‘There’s nothing to say we can’t both do medicine. We’d have a right laugh, the two of us above in the college.’

  James put down his cup. ‘I know. You’re right. How bad could it be? This is what’s been running around in my head for months. Maybe I owe it to him to at least try. Maybe I’ll discover that I love it,’ he finished miserably.

  Disappointing their father weighed much more heavily on James than on Juliet, and she knew that. She also knew that their father loved them and would eventually forgive them whatever they did, but the sadness of not handing on the practice to his son was something he would find hard to accept. Even if her father agreed to her desire to study medicine, which looked doubtful at the moment, she had no intention of going into practice in Dunderrig. She wanted to travel, to experience things. Her father was right when he said looking at farmers’ enlarged prostates and ingrown toenails was no job for her. She envisioned herself in a fancy clinic in New York or as a life-saver on some far-flung battlefield, performing surgery under impossible conditions with a success rate that would stagger the medical profession. No, the prostates of West Cork would just have to be admired by someone else. In so many ways, it was a pity James didn’t feel it was his calling. Juliet
, Solange and Mrs Canty agreed that he was more like his father in temperament than Juliet, while being much less buttoned-up. He would make a wonderful doctor, whatever he thought of his own abilities.

  A bunch of girls were giggling in the corner of the café and as Juliet got up to go to the ladies, they wasted no time.

  ‘Is she your twin?’ one of them asked James cheekily.

  ‘Yes, she is.’ He lowered his eyes – unused to such obvious female attention. ‘We’re just up from Cork, visiting a friend.’ He wished he didn’t blush so easily.

  ‘And what friend are you visitin’, up from Cork?’ another of the group demanded in a thick Dublin accent. ‘Your girlfriend, maybe?’ This reduced the other two to helpless giggles.

  ‘No…no…’ James stuttered, completely embarrassed now.

  ‘Well, girls,’ the first one piped up, this time ruffling James’s hair as she planted her ample behind on his lap. ‘Isn’t that great news? Cork’s answer to Gary Cooper isn’t spoken for. How would you like to take us out, handsome?’ James could smell the alcohol on her breath as she leaned in to deliver what she imagined was her seductive invitation.

  ‘We could teach you a few Dublin tricks,’ her friend chimed in, taking Juliet’s chair and running her red talons up James’s thigh.

  He was speechless; he felt as if he were a particularly juicy creature and they the circling vultures.

  ‘I don’t think so.’ Juliet’s voice was so cut-glass and haughty that the girls immediately jumped up and backed away. ‘We are meeting friends at the Gresham for drinks now, and then lunching at the Shelbourne tomorrow. Do you know it?’ Looking them imperiously up and down, she added, ‘No, I don’t suppose you do. Therefore, I’m afraid my brother and I have other plans. Terribly nice to have met you though. Cheerio!’

  James and Juliet beat a rapid retreat up the quays, laughing hysterically.

  ‘You’re something else,’ James gasped once he’d caught his breath. ‘Lunching at the Shelbourne…if you heard yourself! And the tone of you! You’d swear we gave our lives wining and dining in fancy hotels. You’re gas, Juliet Buckley. You could pull anything off. ’Tis on the stage you should be, not training to be a doctor. I bet those poor girls are scratching their heads now wondering what such a pair of lah-de-dahs were doing sharing one portion of fish and chips!’

  Strolling around the city in the twilight, they stood admiring the displays of beautiful things in Cleary’s window. James smiled at his sister in their reflection.

  ‘You’re not going to like this, but the way you spoke to those girls back there I’d say you get that from her, from Mammy. You look a lot like her, too.’

  Juliet examined her reflection critically. ‘Hmm, maybe. Sure, all we have to go on is that one photo taken when we were small. She probably looks totally different now. Anyway, if I look like her, so do you! I hope we’ll recognise her now, after all these years. What will she look like now, d’you think?’

  ‘I can’t picture her as anything except the photograph. We’ll find out tomorrow, I suppose. Juliet?’ He turned to face her, his expression serious. ‘Give her a chance, will you? Don’t be prickly.’

  Juliet contemplated rearing up in indignation, but she knew her brother was right; she could be prickly as he called it. ‘All right. I’ll give her one chance. But if she says anything bad about Daddy or Solange or Mrs Canty, then she’ll hear about it.’

  Chapter 13

  The subdued activity of the Lord Mayor’s lounge was intimidating. The West Cork Hotel in Skibbereen or the Imperial in Cork for a treat on a shopping day had not prepared the twins in any way for the luxury of the Shelbourne. They had promised each other to look confident even if they were quaking inside, so with a quick squeeze of their hands, they walked purposefully into the sophisticated tea room.

  Eyes turned to take in the glamorous couple, obviously twins. Juliet had dressed them both carefully, determined they wouldn’t look like country bumpkins. When James objected, she’d asked him if he wanted to give Edith an excuse to criticise Solange and their father. She liked them to be dressed well – Mrs Canty had said it was all she had ever cared about – so by God, they were going to wipe her eye and not have her despairing of the cut of them and they up from the wilds of West Cork.

  Juliet wore a fuchsia pink dress with a flared skirt cinched at the waist and a matching jacket, showing off her perfect figure. She’d been up since early morning, pinning her hair into a chignon beneath a black pillbox hat with birdcage netting. Black patent leather high-heeled shoes completed the look. James wondered if it was a bit over the top, but she had researched the fashion magazines on what was appropriate to wear for afternoon tea since they’d decided to come, and she was confident she had got it right. James wore a charcoal double-breasted suit of their father’s – luckily they were similar in size. Juliet was sure they cut a fine dash as they scanned the room for someone who looked like their mother.

  A liveried waiter approached them before they ventured too far into the room. ‘Miss Buckley? Mr Buckley? Please, follow me.’

  Glancing at each other in surprise that he would know them, the twins followed him to a table at the window.

  The woman stood to face them, the hint of a smile on her face. Removing her glove, she extended her hand.

  ‘My, how you two have grown,’ she said coolly. ‘Though, of course, I would have recognised you anywhere. You are both exceptionally beautiful.’ She smiled more widely at James. ‘Though, of course, you are handsome, my dear. Please sit. I’ve ordered afternoon tea. Have you ever had it here? It’s really rather good.’

  Juliet was mesmerised. Her mother looked almost as she remembered her. A little older, perhaps, but still trim and beautiful. Her hair was more ash than blond now, but she was made up and styled to perfection. Her dress and coat were shades of cream and gold and her accessories were understated but expensive-looking. Edith clearly had the money and the ability to hold back the tide of time, it seemed. Though she had to be in her forties, she didn’t look much older than her children.

  ‘So,’ Edith said, graciously indicating that her children should sit and taking a seat herself. ‘How have you both been?’

  ‘Very well, thank you.’ James, like Juliet, was trying hard not to stare – it really was remarkable how little Edith had changed in the intervening years.

  ‘Have you finished school? I imagine that you have. It must be pleasant to be out in the world now.’

  ‘Yes, we just did our Leaving Cert in June. We’re waiting for the results.’

  ‘And what are your plans? Medicine I suppose?’ Edith was still exclusively addressing James.

  ‘Perhaps. I’m not sure. I haven’t fully decided yet.’ He had no intention of revealing the current disagreement between himself and his father.

  ‘And how is everyone at Dunderrig? Solange, is she still there? Your father? The Cantys?’ Edith’s tone was polite, interested. To the outside observer, there was nothing in her words or demeanour to suggest that the people she enquired after were those she had abandoned so suddenly years ago.

  ‘Everyone’s fine,’ James replied. Looking across at Juliet, who was uncharacteristically quiet, he willed her to contribute something. To fill in the silence, he added, ‘Dunderrig is looking lovely now. Eddie has done a great job with the fuchsia and the rhododendron. He managed to tame them without cutting them back too much so it all looks very colourful. Daddy got someone in to help him, Joey Flanagan – do you remember him from the village? Because Eddie is getting too old for the heavy lifting…’ his voice petered out. He shouldn’t have asked if she remembered anyone, he thought.

  ‘No, James, I can’t say the name Joey Flanagan means anything to me. I’m glad Dunderrig is so interesting to you, though. And how about you, Juliet? Do you have a plan now that you’ve finished your education?’

  ‘I haven’t.’ Noting her mother’s look of surprise at her words – or possibly the shar
p tone in which she had delivered them – she continued more calmly, ‘I haven’t finished my education. I’m going to university, to study medicine. I want to be a doctor, like Daddy.’

  ‘How modern of you.’ Edith produced a small smile. ‘Well, it’s a different world than when I was your age. Though looking at things in Europe, perhaps things will be very different again in the not too distant future. We shall have to wait and see.’

  ‘Do you think there’s going to be a war?’ James asked.

  ‘Oh yes,’ Edith said with conviction. ‘Undoubtedly, there will be a war in Europe, although it’s unlikely Ireland will be involved in any official capacity. De Valera will see to that. I shouldn’t worry, my dear. My husband, on the other hand, should be concerned, being a German.’ The offhand manner in which Edith dropped her bombshell stunned them both.

  Juliet was the first to recover. ‘Your husband? You’ve remarried? Are you and Daddy divorced?’

  Edith glanced up from pouring the tea.

  ‘Divorced? No. The marriage to your father was a Catholic one and so was indissoluble. Luckily, Otto is not interested in religion and neither am I, so we married in a civil ceremony in Bremen, Germany in 1928. Have you ever been to Bremen? It really is pretty.’

  The twins tried hard to process this news.

  ‘But you are legally married to our father. To remarry without first divorcing your first husband is bigamy,’ said Juliet, bewildered. ‘Our father has never even looked at another woman; he knows he’s still married to you…’

  ‘Oh, for goodness sake, Juliet!’ Edith spoke as if dealing with a difficult child. ‘That foolish marriage was a lifetime ago. He should consider himself free to do as he pleases, with whomever he pleases. Europe is changing as we speak. Nothing is ever going to be the same again. Everything about the past will soon be entirely irrelevant.’