by Maureen Lee
‘What sort of troubles?’ Had she really only been away a week? It felt more like a month, or six months.
The news about Matthew Doyle had been in the Echo. The dampcourses were faulty on an estate of 250 houses that his firm had built and the sub-contractors responsible had declared themselves bankrupt.
‘Uncle Matt’s got to put them right, but it’s not covered by the insurance. It’ll cost the earth,’ Moira told her. Moira was also in disgrace, having known all along what her sister was planning to do, yet kept it to herself.
‘Sly little monkey,’ Greta snapped during the argument that followed.
‘Not as sly as our Daisy,’ Heather countered.
‘I promised to keep it a secret,’ Moira said, unperturbed. ‘I wasn’t prepared to break me promise. What do you think, Gran?’
‘Don’t ask me,’ replied a distraught Ruby. ‘I’m incapable of thought at the moment.’
‘The holiday doesn’t seem to have done you much good,’ Greta said huffily.
‘The holiday did me a world of good, but coming home’s done me no good at all. I was only tired before. Now, I feel as if the world’s collapsed around my ears.’
And no one had noticed she was wearing jeans.
Perhaps the events in Washington had made Ruby more tolerant. When she thought about it the next day, she couldn’t see much harm in what her granddaughters had done. Ellie had acted very irresponsibly, but she would be eighteen in September, an adult. At the same age, Ruby had had two children and was living in Foster Court.
As for Moira, the girl had made a promise and felt morally obliged to keep it. Her loyalty was to her twin, not to her mother. And what would Greta have done if she’d been told of Ellie’s plans – tied her headstrong daughter to the bed for the rest of her life?
Furthermore, it was entirely understandable that Daisy hasn’t told anyone except Matthew she was leaving. Heather would have tried to stop her, yet the girl clearly wasn’t cut out for office work. Ruby admired her enormously for having taken charge of her young life.
Daisy came with her to midday Mass. She loved her new job, she declared. ‘All you have to do is show people to their seats, and you can tell by the colour of the tickets what section they should be in. Of course,’ she went on importantly, ‘you have to be careful not to shine the torch in anyone’s eyes.’
‘Doesn’t it get a bit boring?’ Ruby asked.
‘Not really, Gran. I watched The Sting twice because Robert Redford’s so gorgeous, but once the picture starts, you can stand outside the door and talk to the other usherettes. I don’t feel even the littlest bit stupid and some of them are dead envious I’m engaged to Clint. He came one night to see The Sting – we let him in for nothing,’ she added in a whisper, as if the manager of the Forum was within earshot.
‘I’m glad you’re happy, love. Did Matthew mind you going?’
‘No. He wished me luck and said to take as long as I liked to find another job. Oh, Gran, I don’t half feel sorry for him. He’s in terrible trouble.’
‘I know. I’ll give him a ring when we get home.’
‘All the houses are occupied and the downstairs rooms will have to be redecorated,’ Matthew said despondently when Ruby phoned to ask exactly how much trouble he was in. ‘Apart from putting right the dampcourse, floor-boards have to be replaced, carpets have been ruined. It’s going to cost millions to put right.’
‘I’m so sorry, Matthew. Look, I was just about to start dinner. You’re welcome to come if you want. I’ve brought you a little present back from Washington.’
‘Have you?’ He sounded pathetically pleased. ‘I can’t manage dinner. I’m due at the office any minute to go through figures with the accountants. The workforce have seen this as an ideal opportunity to demand a pay rise. I’ll try and make it later.’
‘I look forward to seeing you, Matt.’
He made a little harrumphing noise. ‘I doubt that very much, Ruby. You’re just being polite.’
Ruby replaced the receiver and went into the kitchen where she began to peel potatoes. Her thoughts went back to the day she’d first met the gangling, would-be property developer, with his misspelt visiting card and cheap suit. Over the years, she’d been horrible to him, ignoring his kindness, his wish to become friends, resenting the way he had attached himself to her family, bought the girls presents, invited himself around. But now she was deeply sorry he was in trouble and would do all she could to help.
Ruby had only been home a few days when she called the hotel in Washington for a moan. ‘I almost wish,’ she groaned, ‘that I’d never gone away. If I’d stayed, nothing bad might have happened; Ellie would still be here, Daisy wouldn’t have changed her job, Matthew’s business would be all right.’
‘I’d’ve thought you’d be pleased about Daisy?’
‘I am.’ Ruby sighed. ‘But our Heather isn’t.’
‘You’re nothing but a soft girl, Ruby O’Hagan,’ Beth said scathingly. ‘You’re not that important. The entire household doesn’t fall to pieces just because you’re not there.’
‘I know.’ Ruby sighed again. ‘One thing though, the French students wouldn’t have come for another week. I could do without them at the moment. The boy’s all right, Louis, except he expects me to teach him English. He follows me everywhere, making notes. One of the girls is terribly homesick, poor thing, and cries all the time. The other one keeps picking up boys and bringing them home. She’d have them in her room if I’d let her.’
‘Never mind, Rube. It won’t be for ever.’
Right then, Ruby found that difficult to believe. ‘Another thing, Greta’s driving us mad. She wants to go to Dublin to look for Ellie, but she’s nervous about travelling on her own. Heather’s too busy to go with her, Moira flatly refuses, and now she’s badgering me.’ There was a note of hysteria in her rising voice. ‘As if I could possibly drop everything and go on what’s bound to be a wild goose chase.’
‘Calm down, Rube. Take a deep breath or something.’
‘Whereabouts are you in the hotel?’
‘In a booth in the foyer. The desk clerk said there was a call just as I was leaving. You only just caught me.’
‘What are you doing this afternoon?’
‘It’s morning, actually. I’m going to an anti-apartheid rally in support of black families in South Africa.’
‘I wish I were there,’ Ruby said wistfully. ‘I miss it something awful. That’s really why I called, to hear what Washington sounds like, if only for a minute or two.’
‘I’m leaving tomorrow, Saturday. Nearly everyone is. This time next week, we’ll all be back in our dull little houses or tedious jobs, and we’ll be feeling exactly the same as you, Rube.’
On top of everything else, Ruby was worried about Matthew Doyle. He looked ill, not a bit like his usual dashing, confident self. The owners of the affected houses had called a meeting and asked him to attend.
‘I can’t think why,’ he said ruefully. ‘They were so angry, they’d hardly let me speak. I was shouted down every time I opened me mouth. Everyone considers it my fault.’
‘Write to them,’ Ruby urged after a few moments’ thought. ‘Find out their names and send a letter to every single house. Explain what happened, that the sub-contractor responsible has made himself bankrupt and the onus of putting things right has fallen on you. Say you’ll do it as quickly as possible, but ask for their patience. Appeal to their better natures.’
‘I don’t suppose it would do much harm,’ he conceded. ‘Mind you, that’s not the only thing on me mind. I’ve got two big contracts that should have been started by now, but I can’t spare the manpower. They’ve both got penalty clauses if they’re not finished on time. At the rate things are going, they won’t be finished at all. I need the entire workforce for that bloody estate.’
‘Have you advertised for more tradesmen?’
‘Yes, but the response was pretty poor. Word gets around. These days, Doyle Construction’s considered a
dodgy outfit to work for.’
‘But that’s not fair!’ she gasped, outraged.
He suddenly grinned. ‘I’m glad I’ve got you on my side.
I should have taken you with me to the meeting. You’d have shouted the lot of them down.’
‘I’d have tried,’ Ruby said stoutly. ‘What happened to the business in Australia, the swimming pools?’
‘It went to Caroline when we got divorced.’ He pretended to shudder. ‘I’d sooner not think about Caroline. I’ve got enough on me plate. By the way, I meant to say before, you suit jeans.’
‘Well, I’m glad someone’s noticed.’
The French students left after a fornight and another three took their place, all girls, who couldn’t stand English food. Ruby didn’t care. She made salads and gave them an apple for afters. It was much easier.
She flatly refused to iron the frocks Greta and Heather were taking to Corfu the following week. ‘You can iron them yourselves when you come home from work. All you do is watch television.’
‘You’ve been dead funny since you got back from Washington, Mam,’ Greta complained.
Ruby haughtily tossed her head. ‘I’m making a statement.’ She’d meant to do all sorts of things, but had been submerged by events. She hadn’t touched any of the books she’d brought back – she didn’t even know where they were.
‘What’s the statement about?’
‘I’m not sure.’ She was fed up being a maid-of-all-work. She wanted a life of her own, though what she intended doing with it, she had no idea. Something important.
Two weeks later, the girls returned from Corfu, both with an enviable tan. It quickly became obvious that they weren’t speaking to each other.
It was about time the pair of them grew up, thought an impatient Ruby. ‘What’s wrong?’ she enquired as soon as she got one of them on their own. It happened to be Heather.
‘She only clicked with some chap, didn’t she, our Greta?’ Heather said indignantly. ‘I was dropped like a hot brick. A few days later, I met this man – I didn’t mean to, we just bumped into each other in a shop and started talking and he asked me for a drink. Then Greta’s chap went home the first Saturday, and I was expected to drop mine, which I flatly refused to do. She had a lousy time the second week and seems to think it’s all my fault.’
‘Well, I hope you make things up pretty soon. I don’t like an atmosphere in the house.’ Ruby was surprised. It wasn’t like Heather not to put Greta first. She thought her daughter looked rather sad. ‘What was your chap like?’ she asked.
‘Actually, Mam, he was awfully nice. His name’s Gerald Johnson. He lives in Northampton and works in a bank. He’s got two kids and his wife was killed in a road accident, so straight away we had something in common. We got on ever so well, but neither of us felt the least bit romantic towards each other. I can’t imagine getting involved with another man and Gerald feels the same about women.’
‘Oh, well. I’m glad you had a nice time.’
Heather’s stern face melted. ‘Oh, I did, Mam! Gerald was lovely to talk to. We’re going to write to each other. He might come and see us one weekend.’
‘I thought neither of you wanted to get involved?’
‘We don’t, but it doesn’t mean we can’t be friends. Talking of friends, I’ll go and have a word with our Greta. I don’t like us not speaking. Mind you, it’s entirely her own fault.’
‘I love Dublin,’ Ellie sang, flinging back the curtains of the tiny bedsit that had a distant view of the River Liffey. Fortunately, the room wasn’t overlooked, so no curious observer could see she had nothing on.
‘Jaysus! The sun’s bright.’ Liam pulled the bedclothes over his head. ‘Why do I feel so hungover? Did I drink much last night?’
‘Only gallons and gallons of Guinness.’ Ellie, her eyes on the glittering river in the distance, began to sing raucously, ‘Bridge Over Troubled Water’.
‘Do you have to sound so happy? And so fucking loud?’
‘Don’t swear,’ she said automatically.
‘I’ll swear as much as I fucking want.’
‘I might leave you.’
‘I don’t care.’
Ellie ran across the room, threw herself on top of him, and yanked the sheet away. Liam shrieked. His eyes were full of sleep and he looked dreadful.
‘Do you really mean that? About not caring if I left?’ she demanded, tickling his chest.
‘You know I don’t.’ He rolled over so that she was beneath him and pushed himself inside her. He was ready to make love at any time, whether it be morning, noon, night or day.
‘That was nice,’ he said, rolling off her.
‘Only nice!’ Ellie pouted.
‘I’ve known it better.’
‘With me or someone else?’ she enquired, making a face.
‘With you, of course, me darling girl.’
Ellie was about to wrap herself around him, but changed her mind when her nose came in contact with his smelly armpit. ‘I’ll have to get ready for work in a minute.’
‘Me too.’
He worked in a supermarket stacking shelves and collecting trolleys. After a lifetime spent studying, he wanted a job that didn’t tax his brain. It would only be for a few months. Once he got the result of his degree, he’d leave Dublin, go abroad. ‘The world will be my oyster,’ he boasted.
What would she do then? Ellie didn’t know and didn’t care. He was only the first of her adventures. She had a job in a restaurant which she quite enjoyed and Dublin was full of attractive men. Among Liam’s many friends were students from Trinity College and he and Ellie were invited to parties almost every night. An American student, Dean, lived in the room above, and there were two girls on the floor below. If there wasn’t a party, they’d all end up in someone’s room and get drunk.
The university term had ended, but there were still loads of young men around that Liam had been to school or played rugby with, as well as girls he used to date. Whenever they went to a pub there was always a crowd Liam – and now Ellie – knew.
Sunday afternoons, they went for a drive in Liam’s car, a yellow Hillman Imp, which he’d bought on his eighteenth birthday. It had been left with his brother, Felix, in the family home in Craigmoss, a village about ten miles from Dublin. When Liam’s father died, his mother had gone to live with her sister in Limerick, and Liam’s own sister, Monica, lived in London.
They’d caught the bus to Craigmoss to collect the car soon after they’d arrived in Ireland. ‘Next Sunday, we’ll go to Sandymount Strand – there’s a beach,’ Liam said as the bus lumbered through the pretty Irish countryside. ‘James Joyce used to go for walks there.’
‘Did he, now!’ said Ellie, who’d never heard of James Joyce, despite having taken an A level in English.
The Conway house was depressing, both inside and out, she thought when they arrived. It was called Fern Hall and was very large, very tall, and situated on its own just outside the village, reminding her of the house in Psycho, a film she’d recently watched on television and hated – she’d had nightmares about it ever since.
Felix Conway lived alone in Fern Hall. He was five years older than Liam, a slighter, paler version of his handsome brother. His eyes were a lighter green, his receding hair not quite so red. He had a faint, whispery voice and wore round glasses with pearly white frames that Ellie thought made him look slightly sinister, like the house.
Even the meal was depressing, served in a miserable, musty-smelling dining room; cress sandwiches made from stale bread, digestive biscuits served in the packet, and weak tea.
Ellie didn’t like the way Felix watched her from behind his round glasses, still and contemplative, as if he was trying to look into her soul. ‘Why isn’t he married?’ she asked Liam on the way back to Dublin in the Hillman Imp.
‘Don’t ask me. He’s been courting Neila Kenny ever since me horrible old daddy died. I don’t know what they’re waiting for. Their old age pensions perhaps.�
�
‘Let’s not go again, Liam. I didn’t enjoy meself a bit.’
‘You needn’t go again, me darling Ellie, but I certainly shall. Felix is me brother and I quite like the guy.’
‘Please yourself,’ Ellie sniffed.
‘I always do,’ Liam replied with a smile she thought unnecessarily grim.
Since then, he’d only been to see Felix the once, on another Sunday afternoon, leaving Ellie on her own, but not for long. Dean was still upstairs, waiting for his family to arrive when they would go on a tour of Europe. He had come down to borrow something and was still there when Liam returned. ‘I hope you two haven’t been up to anything,’ he said with a leery grin.
Ellie was a bit put out that it didn’t seem to bother him if she and Dean had spent the time making mad, passionate love. But would she care if she found him with a girl under the same circumstances? She decided that she wouldn’t. They were using each other, that’s all. It made her feel sophisticated and very grown-up.
They had been in Dublin almost two months when Ellie discovered she had run out of contraceptive pills.
‘Fuck!’ Liam said when she told him in bed that night.
‘There’s no need to swear. I can easily get more. I’ll look up a birth control clinic in the telephone directory tomorrow.’
‘Are you mad or what?’ He roared with laughter. ‘This is Ireland, girl. It’d be easier finding a brothel than a clinic dishing out contraceptives.’
‘Why’s that?’ enquired an astonished Ellie.
He laughed again. ‘Some Catholic you are! Don’t you know the Church is totally opposed to birth control? In Ireland, what the Church says goes.’
‘That seems very unreasonable.’
‘Unreasonable or not, that’s the situation. Is there anyone in Liverpool who can send you more pills?’
‘God, no!’
‘I’ll ask around at work. If necessary, we can drive across the border, get them there. Otherwise, I’ll have to find meself another bed partner. The last thing I want to hear is the patter of little feet.’
Ellie hit him with a pillow. ‘Neither do I. So remember, until I get more pills, you’d better be careful.’
