Father Aquinas looked uncomfortable. Liam knew he hated being the one to deliver the bad news. The clock ticked on the mantelpiece as what the priest was saying sank in. Xavier was behind this, he knew it. He probably thought that Patrick and he were in cahoots about the Hugo thing so he was going to punish Patrick by dropping him from the team—no doubt, he wouldn’t get much of a reference either—and he was going to block Liam’s entry to Maynooth.
‘So, Father, does that mean that St Bart’s won’t recommend me for the priesthood?’ he asked quietly, willing the priest to dismiss such a terrible notion.
‘Liam, it’s not a question of you not being suitable. Personally, I think you’d make a fine priest indeed, but it’s not up to me. You haven’t the money, or any way of getting the money, so there is not much point in applying and getting your hopes up, and your mother’s hopes up. There are scholarships for the brightest and the best, of course, and the order does fund some students, but this year we already have several candidates that the board think might be…’ The priest had the good grace to look embarrassed.
‘Not scholarship boys, you mean? I see.’
Liam didn’t trust himself to say anymore. All his hopes and dreams, everything he prayed for just vanished, it wasn’t going to happen. He should have been grateful to get a secondary education; most lads he’d been in the primary with were out working for years or had emigrated. He’d been lulled into a sense of false security by the scholarship, thinking that this life was possible for someone like him, from a background like his. Daddy was right, they were only interested in the lads with plenty of money. Liam knew some of the farmers’ sons—with a few bob behind them—would be proposed for the funding, that was just how it worked. The prevailing feeling must have been, you got your secondary education for nothing, don’t come with the begging bowl again. Liam knew how Father Xavier thought, and he could almost hear his dismissal. He was too cowardly to deliver the news himself though, sending Father Aquinas to do his dirty work for him.
‘Liam, I’m so sorry, I am...maybe the brothers... I know some monasteries in England you could consider, the White Friars in Bristol, for example, they’re always looking for young men to join.’
Liam knew that the words sounded hollow. Joining a monastic order of brothers was not the priesthood, but it was the best a boy from Chapel Street could expect.
‘I...I’ll think about it, Father, thank you.’ He fought back the hot tears of bitter disappointment and willed his voice not to betray him. He longed to get away, to run out the door and down the hill and into the city, to run and keep running away from St Bart’s, the place that built up his hopes, that made him believe it could really happen, only to crush him.
Chapter 14
‘There he is,’ Patrick said. ‘Liam! Where’ve you been? You missed extra Latin. Father Tim is raging; I told him you went home sick...’
Hugo and Patrick plonked down either side of him on the bench beside the River Lee. It was low tide and the muddy riverbed was exposed, showing its haul of twisted metal and tree branches and lots of other unrecognisable detritus gathered by the river as it made its way to the mouth of the harbour. The shadow of St Teresa’s Church, with its majestic Golden Fish on the spire, cast its spell as the summer sun hung low in the sky and settled over the city.
‘So why didn’t you turn up?’ Hugo finished.
Liam didn’t answer, and he noted the glance shared between his two best friends, something was wrong.
‘Liam, what’s wrong? Did something happen? Why did Father Aquinas want you?’ Patrick asked.
Not trusting himself to speak, he merely nodded. He longed to let it all out, to sob like a child, but he couldn’t. The realisation that he would never become a priest washed over him in waves, each one deepening his despair.
‘Come on, Liam, you’re worrying us now...’ Hugo sat beside him and craned to see Liam’s face. ‘You can tell us, whatever it is.’
Slowly, he told them of his meeting with Father Aquinas. Each word hurting as he spoke.
‘Father Xavier won’t put me forward, so that’s it,’ he finished miserably.
Patrick’s face said it all, this was Xavier hurting them again, anger and frustration filled the air around him. He caught Liam’s eye. They knew they could never say in front of Hugo that Xavier had it in for them because he would be sure to question why, so Patrick changed the subject.
‘This is the bench, do you remember? The night we thought we killed my auld lad? Father Aquinas saved our skins that night; he’s all right, under it all.’ They had shared the story with Hugo but nobody else. ‘Isn’t it typical of Xavier, though, to send him to tell you, that oily fecker wouldn’t even have the guts to tell you himself. ‘Twas the same when he dropped me from the team, he got poor old Father Barry to put the notice up. The fellas they’re putting forward for Maynooth are his nephews, the Clancy twins, that pair of eejits. I heard them talking about it in the dressing room yesterday, thinking they were alone. I didn’t know if you’d be put forward as well so I never said anything.’
Liam noticed Hugo flinch at the mention of their names. The Clancy twins were notorious in the school as bullies, but they were untouchable having Father Xavier as their uncle. Their father was some big shot as well so they were loaded.
‘And that other fella, Daly, y’know with the foxy hair? He’s a right lick-arse too, no wonder they put them forward. They said his father donated a stained glass window to the monastery so that’s why he’s getting it.’
Hugo was fuming, ‘I hate him. I know it probably shocks you, Liam, but I really do hate Xavier, I always have. How dare he impinge on your desire to serve God? He knows nothing of Godliness, absolutely nothing.’ Liam had never seen Hugo so angry.
Patrick added, ‘The order could easily pay for you, sure they’re loaded, living up there in that huge mansion, like little kings, and there’s someone like you, who wants to join, and you’d be bloody good at it as well, and they won’t let you into their cosy little club because your father isn’t a solicitor or a doctor or a rich farmer. They’d make you sick so they would. My father, waste of space that he is, is right about one thing; Jesus himself was born in a stable. They’ve certainly moved a long way from there, haven’t they? Bloody snobs, that’s what they are, and then the cheek of them, suggesting you go off to the brothers in England so they can look down their snouts at you, prancing around in their hand-stitched soutanes...’ Patrick was livid at the unfairness of it. He thought Liam was being punished vicariously for Patrick’s own action of confronting Xavier, and that stung more than his own rejection from the hurling team.
Liam was touched by his loyalty, though he felt Patrick shouldn’t criticise the clergy like that. Why should they pay for him to train? There was nothing special about him.
‘Was the money the only reason? Did he say anything else?’ Hugo interrupted Patrick’s rant.
‘I think so. He just said that the teachers didn’t think I’d make the grade for an academic scholarship so there wasn’t any point in putting me forward, getting my hopes up for nothing...’ he answered mindlessly, throwing pebbles into sludge of the riverbed.
Patrick calmed down a bit and tried a different tack. ‘Liam, maybe it’s for the best. I mean, it’s a tough old life, I know you get to live like a lord and all that, but no wife, no children, never having a home of your own, never getting your wages and deciding what to spend it on, maybe you’re as well off.’ Patrick was trying to look on the bright side. Even if he thought Liam was mad even considering taking holy orders, he did know how much it meant to him.
‘What if you were to find the money?’ Hugo interjected.
Liam and Patrick stared at him as if he were mad.
‘Find it, of course, why didn’t we think of that? Have a look around there, Liam, in case someone dropped a couple of hundred quid on the street there, you know what people round here are like, dropping big wads of cash everywhere.’
Patrick chuckled, hoping to raise the glum mood.
Liam tried to smile at Patrick’s joke but failed miserably.
‘There’s no way, Hugo, none at all. It’s four hundred pounds a year for seven years when you count accommodation, tuition, food, and books. Mammy could save up for the rest of her life, and scrounge off Con and the girls and everything, but we’d never even come close. I thought that if I got the scholarship for the fees, maybe Mammy could make me a suit and maybe someone in the sacristy could maybe make me a stole, even then it would be financially near impossible, but maybe it could have been done, but without the fees for tuition and accommodation covered, it might as well be millions.’ His friends were trying to cheer him up, but he didn’t want hope, there was no hope, and thinking there might be was only prolonging the agony.
‘I don’t mean find it like that, you dingbat. I mean if he was to get it from somewhere, from someone.’ Hugo was thinking.
‘From who, exactly? Who do we know who has that kind of money just to splash out on Liam’s education?’ Patrick asked.
‘Me,’ Hugo answered simply.
Patrick and Liam just stared in stunned amazement.
‘Hugo, that’s such an incredibly kind suggestion, but I could never ask you to...’ Liam immediately dismissed the idea.
‘Why not? And anyway, you didn’t ask, I offered. Look, you’ve been to Greyrock, my father and generations before him managed the estate very well, I can afford it, and I want to do it. If one good thing comes out of me having to go back and take over and get married and all of that, if it means I got to do one thing that I wanted to do and was able to do because of my position, then it makes it worth it. I know you two think my life is a charmed one, and yes, we are wealthy, there’s no point in pretending otherwise, but my whole life is based on expectations, what my family need me to do, and this is something I want to do so if you’ll accept my help, then I’ll pay your fees. Xavier can’t stop you applying as a fee-paying student, can he?’
‘No, I don’t think so, the recommendation I need is only for the scholarship. But Hugo, I’d never be able to pay you back, I‘d have to take a vow of poverty, and I’d have no way of repaying.’ Liam was trying to make his friend see how implausible his suggestion was.
‘It’s not a loan, it’s a gift. I know to you it sounds like a lot of money, but honestly, it’s not, not really. Anyway, I’d love to see Xavier outmanoeuvred so I’m not being totally altruistic.’ Hugo was nonchalant, and his friends knew he wasn’t showing off—he was merely stating a fact. Through all their years in school together, Hugo played down his background, he wasn’t overly flash with his cash and while he was very generous to them both, buying sweets and paying for outings when they had a Sunday off together, he never bragged about his wealth.
‘But what about your mam? Won’t she say no?’ Patrick asked.
Hugo shrugged. ‘No, of course she won’t. Firstly, she’d be thrilled to have a pet priest. She really has embraced the Papist faith most enthusiastically for a blow-in.’ He grinned and winked at Liam, knowing how his descriptions of Catholicism exasperated his friend.
‘Seriously though, she’d be fine about it, and anyway, I’m eighteen now, so I run Greyrock. She’s more than happy to hand it over lock, stock and barrel. I doubt she’d even notice if I didn’t tell her, which of course I will. This day couldn’t come soon enough for her, she is much happier in London. I expect she’ll spend a lot more time there now, she has lots of friends, and we have a townhouse in Mayfair so she’s secretly thrilled to break out of the Greyrock shackles though she wouldn’t admit it. She doesn’t love the place the way I do, the way my father did. She hates being there without him.’ He paused. ‘So, Liam, will you accept my help? And I just want you to know before you decide, whatever decision you come to, it changes nothing between us.’ Liam caught Hugo’s eye, and the look that passed between them spoke volumes.
Liam found it hard to speak, to get the words out of his mouth. He wanted to say so much, but nothing came forth.
‘Have a think and let me know,’ Hugo said, clapping Liam on the back and getting up from the bench. Patrick tousled Liam’s hair, something that always drove him mad, and grinned. ‘Told you it was a good idea to befriend little Lord Fauntleroy, didn’t I, Liamo? Stick with me, kid! You will take him up on it, won’t you?’
‘I don’t know. I need to think it over. It’s so much money, and what if I don’t make the grade?’
‘You’ll be great, you work hard, and you have a way of knowing what to say to make things better for people. Look how much your mam relies on you; look how often you stopped me beating seven kinds of you know what out of my auld fella? That’s what makes a good priest Liam, you’ll be great, you just need the chance and Hugo’s giving it to you. And to add to it all, Hugo gets one up on Xavier so everyone’s happy.’ To Patrick it was simple.
‘Maybe, it’s really kind of him, amazing really. I’ll have a think. I’ve to go to Roches Store for thread for Mam, anyway, so I’ll do that now.’
‘Right oh—I’ll call over later, and we can try to remember the declensions again. That Latin is breaking my heart, boy, I won’t be sorry to never have to look at it again after next week.’
‘Labor ipse voluptas.’ Liam smiled.
‘Don’t tell me,’ Patrick racked his brain. ‘The pleasure is in the work itself!’ he announced triumphantly.
‘You see? You’ve a better handle on Latin than you think.’
‘Nah, boy, I’ll leave all that auld gibberish to you!’ And he ran to catch up with Hugo, leaving Liam alone with his thoughts.
‘That was a good thing you did back there,’ Patrick said as he caught up with him. ‘It will mean the world to him.’
‘I just hope he’ll accept it,’ Hugo replied, burying his hands deep in his pockets against the evening chill. Despite the fact that it was early June, the weather had not yet improved, everyone said the sun comes out the day the Leaving Certificate starts. The smoke from the fires in the houses on the hill combined with a light mist to create a smell that was uniquely Cork city. He took a big lungful, knowing his days in the city were over soon.
‘Will you be sad to leave?’ Patrick asked, lighting up a cigarette and offering one to Hugo, who accepted. Liam constantly berated them for smoking, but they were oblivious to his admonishments. They stood in the protection of a doorway, and Patrick cupped the match flame with his hand against the stiffening breeze.
‘Yes. Amazingly, I’ve come to think of St Bart’s really fondly. I thought I’d hate it, I probably would have if not for you and Liam, so yeah, it’s going to be a wrench to leave.’ Hugo inhaled and blew out a long line of smoke. The edges had been knocked off his accent after six years in Cork and while he didn’t sound like Liam and Patrick, he blended into their world a lot better than he used to.
‘But you’ll visit, won’t you? I mean, it’s not like you’ll be working, only sitting around all day getting your portrait painted and stuffing yourself with quail’s eggs.’ Patrick grinned and nudged him playfully.
‘Well, that’s right, I mean a two-thousand-acre estate with cattle and bloodstock and crops and a large house with several staff just runs itself. I plan to spend my days fencing and playing the lute.’ Hugo knew better than to rise to Patrick’s well-meaning teasing.
‘Seriously though, you will come back, won’t you? For the odd weekend? Sure you could stay in Liam’s place, his mam would love that. Mine would too, but we can have nobody in my house with the way that fool of a father of mine goes on. We can go chasing women together below in the Arcadia and between your money and my charming good looks, we’ll have them eating out of our hands.’ Patrick chuckled.
Hugo stopped walking, and Patrick looked back to see what was the matter.
‘What?’ Patrick asked.
Hugo considered now would be the right time to tell Patrick his secret, but he just couldn’t get the words out.
&
nbsp; ‘Nothing.’ He grinned. ‘Just taking a breather, this hill is ferocious.’ He took a deep breath and walked on, feeling despondent that he lacked the courage to confide in Patrick. Telling Liam was one thing, but Patrick was a whole other prospect. Hugo hated himself for it, but he just couldn’t say it.
‘Of course I’ll come back. Though chasing women may be something you’d have better success at alone. You seem to be doing fine in that department so far.’ He laughed, though it sounded hollow in his own ears.
‘Ah, you’re just a late bloomer, sure once you get out of the jail above and start living your life, you’ll have the cream of the crop battering down your door, I’m telling ya!’
‘If you say so, Romeo.’ Hugo smiled.
Chapter 15
Dear Patrick and Hugo,
I’m not being lazy writing to you both together, but I’m afraid that I’ll miss out on telling one of you something and think I told the other or vice versa. That probably doesn’t even make sense but, anyway, ye know what I mean! There’s an old typewriter here in the rec room, and I’ve managed to procure some much sought after carbon paper so I’m laboriously hammering this out with two fingers, so ignore the mistakes because I can’t start again. I don’t know how girls do it. I was in the clerical outfitters last week and this young woman was battering away on a typewriter and not even looking where she was putting her fingers, I was mesmerised. Of course, and I can only tell you two this, she thought my fascination was with her not inconsiderable charms, if you know what I mean, rather than her typing skills so I had to fend off some fairly heavy flirting. I was absolutely mortified, especially as a lad from my class was also in the shop, fierce serious chap from County Louth or somewhere. You’d think that if I was in there buying a rig out for a priest, she’d realise she was barking up the wrong tree but no, she was quite determined. She wanted me to take her to see a film, some romantic thing, I’ll tell ye it took all my powers of persuasion to convince her that I wasn’t what she was after. Of course, if I was trying to get a girl, I wouldn’t stand a chance probably. One of the lads here heard about it and wondered if she wasn’t a plant by the college to see if we’d be tempted down the route of sinful assignations with the opposite sex, but I doubt it.
Jean Grainger Box Set: So Much Owed, Shadow of a Century, Under Heaven's Shining Stars Page 91
