Second Hand Jane

by Michelle Vernal

  She watched as the struggle played out on her mother’s face. There was so much she obviously wanted to say but was fighting against spurting it all out and getting into an argument so early in the piece. She was too weary for that and so miming that her lips were sealed, she declared, “Alright, I won’t say a word more about him.”

  Yeah, right. Jess fixed her with a steely glare. “And you will keep an open mind on Saturday and you will be nice? Promise me.”

  “Alright, alright. Yes, I promise I’ll behave.”

  There wasn’t much more to say after that and feeling her hackles slowly settle down, Jess went off to rustle them both up a light supper of scrambled egg and toast.

  She waited until Marian had gone to bed to ring Owen, filling him in about the lost luggage and her mother’s journey from hell. He’d sympathised and told her about his day, informing her Wilbur was steadily gaining weight before they’d said a drawn-out good night to each other. She hadn’t even hung the phone up and she was missing him, she realised, wrapping her arms around her legs and resting her head on her knees.

  Rolling over in bed, eyes wide open and staring into the darkness, she conjured up the feeling of him lying next to her. Oh yes, where Owen was concerned she had it bad.

  The next morning after breakfast, Jess managed to dig out an old pair of curling tongs that would suffice until Marian could get hold of her heated rollers and handing over her makeup bag, she gave her free rein with it.

  After much discussion about what she would wear for the day, “I am not wearing any of your oddball thrift shop ensembles,” she had stated, giving her daughter’s authentic Boho skirt and boots the once-over before settling on the elephant suit. She didn’t really have much choice because it was the only new thing Jess owned and it was also the only outfit that would fit her.

  Actually, Jess thought, tossing her mother a soft pink scarf to brighten the outfit, it suited her.

  “It doesn’t look too bad and at least I will be comfortable.” She’d sniffed, giving her hair one last primp, looking much more like Jess’s mother and not the vagrant she had picked up from the airport yesterday. Then, they headed off for a day’s sight-seeing.

  The morning passed in a blur of hopping on and off the open-topped double decker that did the rounds of the city. Thankfully the weather behaved itself and although it was cold, at least it wasn’t wet. They were too busy soaking up the city’s history to talk about anything more serious than the sights they were seeing and Jess was enjoying seeing Dublin through a newcomer’s eyes again.

  It gave her a sense of pride as they wandered through the grounds of Trinity College to go and view the exquisite Book of Kells housed there. For her part, Marian was completely blown away by Christchurch Cathedral, marvelling at the fact it had been in existence since the tenth century. She’d had her photo taken next to the statue of Molly Malone on Grafton Street, laughing as Jess sung the first verse of the song that had become Dublin’s unofficial anthem:

  In Dublin’s fair city

  Where the girls are so pretty

  I first set my eyes on sweet Molly Malone

  As she wheel’d her wheelbarrow

  Through streets broad and narrow

  Crying cockles and mussels alive, alive o!

  Jess had arranged to meet up with Nora for lunch in Temple Bar and being a nice day, the area was heaving. They picked their way along the cobbled street to Café Vivaldi, where she spied her friend. Nora was already sitting under one of the big umbrellas, having bagged a seat in the small outdoor area in front of the eatery. Good, thought Jess as Nora waved out; it was a place to sit and “be seen”—Mum will be in heaven. There was nothing like a spot of people-watching on a nice day in Dublin.

  Nora’s dark glasses were firmly in place and a latte was in front of her as she relaxed in the unexpected bonus of winter sunshine. Pushing her glasses up onto her head, she scraped her chair back and stood up with a wide and welcoming smile. Marian, an apparition in elephantine grey, enveloped her in a warm hug, nearly knocking her off her Valentinos.

  “I’ve heard so much about you over the years; I feel like I already know you, my dear, and it is lovely to finally put such a pretty face to the name,” she enthused.

  “Sure, it’s great to finally meet you, too, Mrs Baré.” Nora didn’t know it but she had just scored herself ten out of ten for pronouncing Baré in the correct manner first pop.

  “Call me Marian, dear.” The two women sat down and Jess, grinning at Nora, pulled a chair out and joined them.

  “Isn’t the atmosphere just lovely? There’s such a buzz about the place.” Marian sighed contentedly as she gazed around at the teeming foot traffic.

  “Yes, Dublin always comes alive when the sun comes out and this is a lovely spot to sit and just watch the world go.” Nora smiled, pleased her suggested meeting spot was being so well received.

  “And the coffee’s great, too—Mum, what do you fancy?”

  “A large latte and a sandwich would be lovely—you choose. It’s so nice to sit down, Nora; I tell you, we’ve been on the go all morning.”

  Nora had already ordered so Jess left Marian filling her friend in on their morning’s activities and headed inside to order.

  When she reappeared with their table number in hand, the two women had moved on to the subject of Ewan. Marian was asking for the lowdown and Nora was only too happy to fill her in.

  Their various sandwiches and paninis arrived and the conversation flowed.

  “I love your outfit, Marian; it looks casual but smart at the same time—the perfect choice for sight-seeing.” Nora was staring at the older woman’s pant suit; there was something about it that looked really familiar but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

  Jess sniggered. Nora fancied herself as such a fashionista, she’d be horrified when she realised it was her trusty old elephant suit.

  “Thank you, dear; it’s actually Jessica’s. My case got left behind in Taiwan so I had nothing with me but the clothes I was standing in.”

  Nora’s face was a picture when she twigged and as her mother chatted on, Jess felt herself relaxing in the warmth afforded by the sun. She didn’t know what she had been so uptight about her Mum coming over for. All that wasted energy worrying when it was all going to be fine. Today, in the unseasonal bright weather, all those little idiosyncrasies of hers that normally grated seemed muted. Or at least they had…

  “So what do you make of this Owen Jessica is so keen on then, Nora?”

  Jess’s shoulders stiffened. “Mum, you promised you weren’t going to say anything more until you’ve met him for yourself.”

  “I was only asking Nora’s opinion of him.” Her mother protested innocence. “What’s wrong with that if you’ve got nothing to hide?”

  Nora squirmed. “Actually, Marian, I can’t say too much about Owen because I haven’t met him yet either but from what Jess has told me, he sounds lovely. I am not passing further judgement until she does introduce us, moreover—not after the botch-up I made introducing Nick.”

  Marian’s eyes narrowed. “Yes, he was a bit of a wolf in sheep’s clothing but you weren’t to know, dear. I get to meet Owen on Saturday. Jess is driving us up to this farm of his. I can’t say I’m looking forward to that.”

  “Mum!”

  “I meant going to a piggery for the day, not meeting this new friend of yours. I don’t know, Nora; she’s always been the same—so defensive.” Marian smiled conspiratorially at Nora as though Jess weren’t seated right next to her before getting to her feet and announcing she had an urgent call of nature to attend to.

  “God, she never changes! Nobody else can wind me up as fast as she can. She’s such a bloody snob.” Jess huffed as her mother disappeared inside the café, resisting the urge to poke her tongue out at her retreating back.

  Nora grinned and patted her friend’s hand. “She’s your Mam—that’s what they do to their children. You just take her too seriously, that’s all;
she doesn’t mean anything by it and at the end of the day, it’s your best interests she has at heart. I really like her. I can see a lot of you in her, actually.”

  “Nora Brennan, take that back—you cannot!”

  “I can too. You have the same eyes and hair—hers is just shorter, that’s all.”

  It wasn’t the first time Jess had heard the comparison made. “Yeah, well, that’s where the similarities end and the only reason you’re so taken with her is because she wanted to hear all about your favourite subject—Ewan—so as she can go home and tell all her Mahjong friends that she met the girl who is dating Mr Movie Star.”

  Marian re-joined the conversation and when there was no further mention of Owen, Jess felt her mood lighten again. Nora’s hour-long break flew by and after they’d said their goodbyes to her, Jess tried to persuade her mother to go on the Dublin Viking Tour—she’d never admit it to anyone but she’d always wanted to go on the bright yellow amphibious vehicle that toured the city. The tour culminated in a “splash down” at the Grand Canal Docks but Marian wasn’t keen and wouldn’t be persuaded. She didn’t want to get her carefully curled hair wet.

  Instead, they wandered through the Grand Post Office. Jess pointed out the bullet marks from the 1916 Easter Rising, engraved for all time in the building’s pillars. As her fingers ran over the indentations, she couldn’t help but think that this was where it all started. Those men who had taken part in the Rising with such a justifiable, downtrodden passion could never have known the spinoff that would happen sixty-odd years later to a girl from Ballymcguinness. Shaking the morbid thoughts away, she linked her arm through her mother’s and led her back out to the street. They moseyed along O’Connell Street so that Marian could call into one of the many souvenir shops dotted around the city to stock up on all things leprechaun. Laden down with bags, Jess suggested one more port of call—it was on their way home anyway and besides, they’d earned a drink: the Brazen Head, Ireland’s oldest pub.

  Sitting with her pint of perfectly poured Guinness in front of her—when in Rome, Marian had giggled as she placed her order and if Jess hadn’t known better, she would have thought her mother was flirting with the handsome young bartender—she was in raptures as she soaked up the atmospheric interior of the little pub.

  “This is just how I envisaged an Irish pub and look! They even have fiddlers playing on the weekend!” She pointed to a poster on the wall with such enthusiasm that Jess felt a surge of warmth toward her. How was it she could love her Mum so much one minute and then in the next want to thump her?

  Marian was very giggly and the careful façade with which she normally carried herself had definitely slipped as they made their way home two drinks later, unaccustomed as she was to tippling in the afternoon. Jess had been horrified when she’d caught her blowing a kiss at a geriatric lorry driver who was leering out the window at them while they crossed the road. She’d taken her mother to task as well as by the elbow, steering her straight home after that incident.

  To Jess’s dismay, Gemma and Jimmy were in full “discipline” workout mode as they entered the quad and Marian had laughed fit to burst at the sight of them before asking who did they think they were: “Jane Fonda and Richard Simmons?” Then, crossing her legs, she’d hobbled off in the direction of Jess’s wing as fast as her little legs could carry her, muttering about wetting herself if she didn’t get to the loo quick smart. Jess scurried after her, tossing an apology over her shoulder to Gemma and Jimmy, who called after her demanding to know who the hell Jane Fonda and Richard Simmons were.

  Marian made it to the bathroom in the nick of time and Jess had only just popped the kettle on to make her mother a strong cup of coffee when the intercom sounded, heralding the fact that her lost luggage was no longer lost.

  “Well, thank goodness for that! I feel I can relax and get properly into the holiday mode now,” Marian said a few minutes later as she heaved her bulging case up onto her bed.

  “You could have fooled me, Mum. You looked like you were doing a pretty good job of getting in the holiday mode this afternoon.”

  “Yes, well, that Guinness did rather go to my head but what goes on tour, stays on tour, eh Jessica?”

  Jess cringed. It was not an appropriate saying for one’s mother to come out with.

  Oblivious of her daughter’s discomfort, Marian began rummaging through her case. “Here you go.” She held a Smith & Caughey’s bag aloft triumphantly. “I had one last splurge before I lost my discount. They are all YSL so they shouldn’t ride up your bottom.”

  Jess peeked inside the bag at the array of midnight blue, emerald green, and ruby red lace and silk—knickers, knickers and more knickers. Now this was the mother she knew and loved and it was definitely a step up from the slippers. Maybe she didn’t think she was such a lost cause after all. “Thanks, Mum, they’re gorgeous.”

  Marian wasn’t finished yet, though. Tossing trousers and a couple of jumpers to the wayside, she produced a tin from the depths of the case. “These are for you, too, sweetheart.”

  Opening it up and peering inside, Jess’s face split into a big grin because it was full of the butter-filled custard biscuits she loved. “Yay! Yo-Yos—my favourite!” She hugged her mum, feeling a surge of love for her as she told her to leave the rest of her unpacking until later. “Come on, let’s go and have a couple of these with our coffee.”

  The unaccustomed alcohol, jet lag, and the busy day took its toll on Marian and by seven that evening, she was tucked up in bed. Jess cocked an ear and grinned from her vantage point on the couch, hearing her snoring. She’d just flicked the television on when the phone rang. It was Owen and she found herself unable to stop the silly smile spreading across her face at the sound of his voice.

  They chatted about all the inconsequential happenings in their day. Owen laughed when she told him about her mother’s un-motherly behaviour with the truck driver and how she nearly wet herself laughing at the sight of Gemma and Jimmy. “I’m looking forward to meeting her; she sounds a case.”

  Jess changed the subject then, asking after Wilbur.

  “Aye, he’s doing grand. He’ll be ready to join his siblings any day now. I miss you,” he’d finished, his voice growing husky.

  Jess was glad there was nobody there to see the goofy look on her face as she said, “I miss you too.” She’d have liked to have said that she couldn’t wait for Saturday but truth be told, she was dreading it.

  ***

  Mother and daughter spent Thursday amicably riding the Dart in either direction with no mention of Owen. Instead, Marian kept up a running commentary, filling Jessica in on how her father had decided to retire at the end of the year and how her sister was so excited about the idea of a new baby when it happened but that she had no idea how she’d manage with five. “The children will have to help out more. You know, when I was Mia’s age I used to…”

  Jess let the conversation flow over her, enjoying hearing all the trivia that was part and parcel of family life. She did miss being part of it all firsthand sometimes, instead of always hearing the family’s news after the event. They had morning tea in Malahide and as Jess sat in the quaint little café with her mother sipping a cup of tea, a plate of scones with jam and cream between them, she couldn’t help but recall her last visit to Malahide. How things had changed, she thought, checking her phone to find a saucy text message from Owen. She blushed as she read it, too embarrassed to send one back with her mother sitting right there.

  Marian, partial to a bit of namedropping at the best of times, thoroughly enjoyed hearing who lived where as they rode the train down to Greystones later that afternoon. “Wait until I tell them all at Mahjong that I saw Enya’s castle and I swear that was Rick Stein outside that lovely little pub in Malahide.”

  Jess smiled to herself. It had been a nice day and it wasn’t over yet; they still had time for a wander along the beach and a quick drink at the pub before they’d need to get the train to Bray. Brianna had in
vited them for an early dinner as Pete was working late.

  ***

  “So Marian, what do you think of our fair city then?” Brianna asked, passing her the bowl of scalloped potatoes. “Harry, eat with your mouth closed, please. Remember your manners.”

  “Oh, I love it! All the history and culture is just wonderful. We are such a new country in New Zealand by comparison. Jessica has been showing me a fabulous time and it’s marvellous to meet her lovely friends and to see where she lives at long last.”

  Jess was impressed at her mother’s use of so many different adjectives and looking across the table at her, saw how animated her face was. She crossed her fingers under the table and hoped that same enthusiasm would carry through to Saturday when she met Owen.

  “From now on when she telephones us, I’ll be able to picture exactly who, what, or where it is she is talking about.” Marian paused as she concentrated on spooning the potatoes onto her plate, her face donning a petulant expression. “Not that she phones us much—it is usually the other way round.”

  “Oh, Marian, I am sure that’s not true.”

  It was actually, Jess thought, feeling a frisson of shame. She’d have to start making more of an effort but just as she’d promised to faithfully phone home once a week, her mother opened that big mouth of hers again.

  “Of course, Brianna, I’m only here for a fortnight and I’d have liked to have gone down to Cork this weekend to kiss the Blarney Stone but Jessica’s informed me we’re going up North to a pig farm to meet this man friend of hers instead.”

  Jess bristled. “Oh well, at least I’ll be saving you from a bout of herpes by not kissing the Blarney.” The much-kissed piece of rock at Blarney Castle was a tourist favourite with the legend stating that doing so would bestow whoever kissed the stone with the gift of the gab, something her mother didn’t need to worry about, Jess thought, fixing her with a black look.