A Billy or a Dan, or an Old Tin Can

by Paul Kelly

“Hello Willie,” she cooed softly and her eyes lit up, but a deep male voice came from the side of the bar and disturbed Moira’s dream.

  “Oh! Hello Father Can I get you something to drink?”

  Willie felt very adult as he made his offer although he was sure that young Father Kane lived in a world that was far removed and grossly incomprehensible to his own. The priest had been Fr. O’Halloran’s assistant for the past year and was very interested in the youth movement of the Parish and all the boys seemed to like him especially the footballers. Willie just couldn’t understand how a man could become a priest especially a young handsome man like Father Kane. He was the proverbial tall, dark and handsome type and the girls went mad about him.

  “I’d like a lemonade please Willie if I may?”

  Willie wanted to puke ... “Lemonade indeed If I may, indeed,” he mimicked the voice quietly. Why couldn’t he just say ‘Yes’ like anyone else and get on with it? he thought, but before Willie had the chance to serve the Reverend gentleman, Harry rushed forward and got the drink for him, leaving Willie with an empty glass in his hand. He tightened his mouth and stared at Harry’s rear, but Father Kane glared back at him and he put the glass down again. Harry smiled and felt he had made an impression with the young Curate, but Willie would rather have made an impression on Harry’s bum.

  “If you’re a good boy, I’ll let you pour me a vodka and tonic.”

  Willie heard the voice and knew that his handsome brother Charlie had made an appearance at the school dance, but he got a shock when he turned round, because Rachael Harris was with him. She looked out of this world in her white taffeta dress, showing her smooth, olive shoulders that gleamed in the light of the bar. Her dark hair was swept away from her face, showing her clear features and her magnificent oval shaped eyes. Willie was mesmerised. He stood rooted to the spot until she touched his hand and smiled.

  “He’s only joking Willie ... We’ll both have a lemonade please?”

  “And have one for yourself, Barman,” Charlie shouted as he pulled Rachael gently with him to the other side of the hall. Willie hadn’t thought that Charlie would come to the youth dance and certainly not to have brought the beautiful Rachael with him. He was in his best suit too well, his only suit unless, he had bought another one, now that he was a ‘working man’

  Willie thought it looked different. Maybe it was the light Maybe it was the crease in the pants that Mammy must have done for him. He wouldn’t have been able to have done that for himself No way, he thought. He stared at Charlie in his spruced up suit and then at his clear, clean-cut handsome face . . . and he felt sick as he watched them dance together. They were so close, it was almost improper, he thought again as he looked about him for a rear to kick, but Fr. Kane kept watching him and he smiled as Harry McKenzie snorted and spluttered over a bubbly coke.

  “Haven’t you got a girl friend with you this evening, Willie?” a woman called out from somewhere near the bar, but before Willie could answer, Wattie was standing before him ...with his Mammy. She smiled at Willie and he was about to answer when she ignored him and turned to chat to the priest.

  “Hello Father Kane. Did you hear that my big son here is goin’ to the University?” she boasted and before the priest could answer, she had manoeuvred him into a corner of the Bar, to make sure that he would hear all she had to say about her big son, Wattie.

  She wanted to tell him to call her Rita, but then she thought again as she propped herself up on a bar stool beside him and nestled her ample body in fusion with the stool so that it completely disappeared under her. They were ‘one’ for the evening. The stool and Rita Watts and she sipped her cherryade with her pinkie in the air. “He’s ever so clever, you know Father is my James and his teacher has told me that he has great intentials.”

  Father Kane smiled, but he would not dare correct her. “I think education is a must for any young man today, Father,” she went on,” and I’m sure you’ll agree, being a most educated man yourself. I mean ... where would we be in this world if it is not to advance with science an’ things.” (Technology had just slipped her mind for the moment.) “An’ who knows where my James might end up. The world is his bolster, I say and I’m sure you’ll agree with me, Father.”

  Father Kane gulped his lemonade and kept smiling. He felt collared for the evening and too polite to tell Rita Watts that the world would be her son’s OYSTER ...as Wattie smiled at Moira McKenzie, hoping she had heard the praises that were being sung in his name, but Moira stared back at him, unable to think that he should dare to look at her and then she turned sharply away, tightening her mouth into a thin line and stroking her hair again as she closed her eyes and sniffed. ... Wattie wiped his nose and moved on.

  ***

  Willie could not keep his eyes from Rachael and Charlie. They looked so right for each other on the floor as they danced closely together. She was so lovely and he well, everybody knew he was handsome She was so dark and he was so fair .... Uggh!

  He returned to the bar to see Harry knocking back the lemonade and he wanted to kick him again where it would hurt most, but he knew he couldn’t do that until Father Kane left the room

  “Would you like to dance, Willie?”

  He looked up and saw Rachael smiling at him, but Harry interrupted as he moved swiftly in front of Willie.

  “Yes please I would,” he answered with a smirk on his fat face and Willie could stand it no longer. He had just about had enough and he pinched Harry’s arse as hard as he could. There was a screech before tears came to the fat boy’s eyes as he tried to smile at Rachael, but Willie stepped forward. away from the Bar and led her onto the floor.

  “Well ... someone has to look after the Bar, Harry,” he whispered as he passed him, rubbing his rear.

  ***

  Rita Watts continued to corner Father Kane and her talented son kept looking for talent . . . .

  The world was wonderful for Willie from that moment on and he took the delight as it came, without a thought for the morrow and with an added feeling of sorrow for the celibate at Mrs.Watts side. The priest sipped his drink and Rita talked on endlessly while Rachael pressed her cheek close to Willie’s.

  “Thank you again for what you did for Nathan,” she whispered and her voice was so near, he lost control of anything to say in reply. Her perfume lingered in his nostrils, but he didn’t want to sneeze. Gentlemen didn’t do that sort of thing ... or did they?

  “It’s alright .... Really it is,” he muttered and closed his eyes, hoping that Rachael had not seen his blushes.

  Chapter Eight

  Aggie sat near the fire with her mother, trying to darn the top of a shirt collar for Charlie and although Mary Blair knew the devotion of her eldest child and she was pleased, she was also worried.

  “Aggie, why don’t you go out more and enjoy yourself? You’re only young once, you know,” she pleaded, but Aggie continued to sew, smiling at her mother’s concern for her welfare.

  “I’m fine, Mammy. Really I am . . . You mustn’t worry about me.”

  She spoke with such confidence and self-assurance that Mary wondered if perhaps there was some young man somewhere in the life of her lovely daughter. Aggie was always a quiet girl and didn’t talk much about her own life. She was hard-working and selfless and Mary knew that she would make a good wife for some young man. They continued to work together quietly and the flames from the fire played shadows across the wall behind them.

  “Mammy” ...It was Aggie who broke the silence.

  “Yes, Love. What is it?”

  There was a continued moment of silence before Aggie spoke again.

  “I don’t know, Mammy. Maybe I’m silly or something, but I worry for Charlie.”

  Mary stopped darning the sock that she held in her hand and looked intently at her daughter, for her own thoughts were not far removed from those she had
just heard. Aggie continued. “He’s so carefree and that’s how it should be with a fella but he still worries me. Willie is different altogether and I don’t feel the same anxieties for him. I love them both the same, you understand, but I worry more for Charlie.”

  “I think I know what you mean, Aggie and how you feel, but there’s nothing you can do about the way people are made. We are all different and that’s how it should be.”

  A cinder sparked into flame and cast an orange glow across Aggie’s face. Her fine, delicate features stood out in silhouette.

  “Aye . . . You’re right Mammy. I love you all but I can’t help the way I feel. I’m just daft. I told you that.”

  “No ... You’re not daft at all, my Darling. You’re a good girl, but don’t worry so much. Charlie will make his own way in life. He’ll do his own thing. You may be sure of that.”

  Mary spoke with reassurance, but her Celtic mind was in tune with Aggie and she too had many worries of which she had never spoken. She had always been somewhat psychic in her outlook to life and it had served her cruelly, many times in the past. She shuddered as she took up her darning again and hoped that Aggie did not possess that Celtic streak which caused more worry than it was worth. She patted Aggie’s knee and they continued to sit together with their thoughts in silence a silence broken only by the crackling of the flames that licked the coals and cast their gruesome shadows across the room.

  ***

  “Hello Mammy.” Sadie burst into the room with Meggie, to disturb the solitude of the two women who sat there. “I couldn’t get an interview this afternoon, so we went to the pictures instead.”

  Mary sighed and looked at Aggie. There was such a contrast of natures in her daughters.

  “Can I have a heat?” asked Meggie as she rubbed her hands briskly and shuffled nearer the fire. “Come on, you two Move over.”

  Sadie made her appeal and they all huddled together in the welcoming warmth of the fireglow. Aggie rose up and excused herself, saying that she had something to do that evening as she had an evening off from the factory. She left the room and put on her coat and hat, wrapping a scarf around her neck, since the girls had looked so cold when they had come in.

  “See you,” she called out and left the house.

  Sadie and Meggie looked at each other inquisitively before the latter moved nearer to her mother

  “What’s Aggie goin’ out for, Mammy?” she asked, but Mary Blair did not hear the question. She was thinking about Aggie’s thoughts about Charlie.

  “Mammy Meggie asked you a question. Didn’t you hear her?”

  Mary pressed her forefinger and thumb to the bridge of her nose.

  “I’m sorry I was thinking about something else. What did you say, Darling?”

  Meggie giggled and hunched her shoulders.

  “Has our Aggie got a boyfriend, d’ye think? It’s not like her to go out at this time in the evening, except to the factory ... is it, Mammy?” she asked, but Sadie was annoyed at her sister’s question even if she herself was inquisitive.

  “I wouldn’t worry about Aggie, if I was you Meggie ... She is the oldest and she should be able to do what she likes. Well, that’s what I think anyway,” Sadie said in Aggie’s defence, but she looked to her mother, hoping that she might throw some light onto her elder sister’s mysterious movements. “Nobody asks you where you’re going or what you’re doing, do they?” she continued as she glared at Meggie.

  Meggie ignored the admonition and pushed her hair back casually from her face as she tucked it in behind her ears and her thoughts returned to the events of the evening and to the Movie they had just seen. She moved away from the heat of the fire and swayed across the room, followed by her sister, each with their hands in the air, mimicking the stars that they felt they already knew well, Sadie was sure she did, if Meggie had her doubts

  “Oooh! Wasn’t Tyrone Power just great in that part, Meggie. He’s so handsome. Isn’t he married to that French actress what’s her name?”

  “Annabella ... I think that’s her name, Sadie.”

  Sadie swooned in her own private ecstasy and closed her eyes to savour the joy for as long as she could.

  “Hold me in your arms, my Darling and press your sweet sensual lips to my ear’ole,” she giggled as Mary scolded light-heartedly.

  “You’re a daft one an’ that’s for sure, Sadie Blair,” she said and Sadie returned her comment with a profound bow.

  “I could be acting opposite him in a few years from now,” she said without opening her eyes to look where she was going as she nearly fell into the fire.

  “Ooops! Be careful there. Tyrone won’t appreciate you if your skin looks like toast will he?”

  “You just wait an’ see, Mrs. Blair. I’m no’ gonna stay at that kipper factory, even if I do get the offer of the job and my skin gets the full beauty treatment. I’m going places, I am,” she snorted and Mary and Meggie looked at each other and sighed.

  “We need some more coal for the fire, before it gets too low, Greta Garbo if you don’t mind “ Mary prompted, but Sadie studied her nails and pretended that she hadn’t heard. Meggie brought the coal and piled it on top of the already dying cinders. A light flickered and then went out ... and the fire died.

  “Put the poker under the rails there.”

  Meggie knelt in front of the grate and blew hard into the dead embers, but her efforts were fruitless. She tried the poker experience as Mary had suggested, but all she achieved was a face-full of dust and Sadie laughed.

  “I’m going to bed to keep warm,” she announced and unhooked her suspenders to remove her stockings, gazing at her legs as she undressed and sighing into her dreams again.

  “The gorgeous Tyrone could be doin’ this for me, this time next year,” she said and giggled happily as she made her way to bed.

  “Keep my side warm for me Sadie, will you?” Meggie shouted as she stood at the kitchen sink. “It’ll take me hours to get this soot off my face.”

  Chapter Nine

  Aggie knelt in the pew and waited for her turn to make her confession. There were about ten people before her and she had time to recollect her thoughts, going through her faults carefully in her mind. She had been bad-tempered, selfish; inconsiderate and ...and ...It never ends, she thought. When will I ever be better than I am? I seem to do the same things over and over again, week after week and yet I try so hard. Her thoughts were interrupted by a stout lady with a deep voice as it resounded around the near-empty church and startled her in the dark corner where she had settled herself.

  “I think you’re next dear,” she heard the throaty voice in her ear, as she had forgotten her place in the queue in her anxieties.

  “Sorry,” she whispered and went into the Confessional box, genuflecting towards the High Altar as she went.

  “Bless me Father, as I have sinned. It is a week since my last confession.”

  She could barely see the outline of the priest’s head through the thick, dark curtain, but when he spoke, she knew it was Fr. O’Halloran. She confessed her faults and asked God’s forgiveness, making her act of contrition and then he administered the absolution.

  “Father ...” she plucked up courage to continue.

  “Yes, my child. What is it?”

  “I’m ... I’m Agnes Blair ... You know, Aggie Blair and I’m very worried about something.”

  The priest hesitated before he said anything.

  “Well Aggie Would you like to tell me a little bit more about your trouble?” he asked at length and for a moment, Aggie wished she had never instigated the conversation as she wondered how best to apologise for wasting the priest’s time and get out of the confessional box as fast as she could, but she had tied herself . and there was no way out. Besides, she would never be free of her fixation until she spoke to someone about it and who
better than a priest of God.

  “Father ... something’s troubling me and I don’t know how to explain what it is. I mean, I worry for everyone in my family and I’m a wee bit worried about myself too,” she said and her voice seemed to float through the air, as if carried by the wind and she had no control over it or what she said. She stopped suddenly, thinking what a fool she was making of herself and how ostentatious and stupid Fr. OHalloran would realise her to be. She felt nervous and the palms of her hands grew wetter by the moment as she realised what a contradiction to herself she was and she swallowed hard.

  “Go on Aggie. I’m listening.”

  Aggie thought she would faint at that moment and her scalp tightened with fear, but before she could do or say anything more, her voice took over again and it went with the wind

  “Father ... You know that my mother is a widow and we don’t have much money, or anything and my brothers and sisters are all at home and I help to look after them, being the eldest.” Aggie stopped for a moment to catch her breath before she went on. Her voice seemed to be wound around in elastic and it would only stop when the tautness had been spent. She heard herself stammering on senselessly; endlessly. “Father, I want to be a Nun.”

  The priest waited for a few moments and toyed with the end of his stole before he answered, probably in the event that his penitent might have more to add to her sweeping statement, but nothing further came from the other side of the thick, dark curtain.

  “What you have in mind is very admirable, Aggie very commendable that you should wish to become a nun. It is a wonderful state of life to embrace. Have you been thinking about this for long?”

  “Yes Father,” she answered with a clear and determined tone in her voice, “I think, even at school, I had this wantin’ .I remember I wanted to grow up quickly so that I could enter the Convent ... and it hurt.”

  “I understand Aggie. I understand.” Fr. O’Halloran was biding his time before he said the next thing that he knew was required of him, but he was a little embarrassed as he spoke, for all that he was a priest of so many years experience. “Some people are able to follow a vocation of this kind if they are entirely free to do so and that is if they are not married or have responsibilities of any other kind ... that is responsibilities that might deter them from such a calling.” He coughed and touched his lips with the stole. “Do you have a young man, Aggie?”