‘Stop it!’ she ordered. Harry would never do something like that to her. Harry was the best.
Theresa knocked and entered the room. ‘Let me see you,’ she commanded.
Rachel did a twirl for her mother and was rewarded by the smile of pleasure and pride that lit up her face. The material of the dress swirled luxuriously around her.
‘Let’s go and show your father.’ Theresa smiled.
William was sitting at the dining table, correcting essays. ‘Well let me see the débutante,’ he said jovially, turning to look at her. His face fell. A dull red crept up his neck. Rachel saw the familiar bobbing of his Adam’s apple and felt her heart sink. That always meant trouble.
‘Theresa, what can you be thinking of?’ he exclaimed. ‘Rachel, you can’t go out in public in that dress. It’s immodest. People can see . . . can see . . . it’s far too revealing,’ he finished lamely. The doorbell rang. Rachel nearly jumped out of her skin.
‘Theresa, answer the door,’ William ordered. ‘She can’t let that fella see her looking like this.’
‘Go and bring Harry into the parlour,’ her mother said quietly. William went purple with fury.
‘Theresa—’
‘Be quiet, William. Go on, Rachel,’ Theresa said resolutely. In a complete tizzy, Rachel went to open the door. Harry stood there looking most handsome in his dress suit. He whistled when he saw her.
‘Have I come to the wrong house?’ he teased. ‘I’m supposed to be bringing Rachel Stapleton to a Debs Ball.’
She laughed. ‘Come in, I just have to get my wrap.’ He handed her a beautiful orchid and a little box. ‘What’s this?’ Rachel was surprised. The orchid was expected, but nothing else.
‘Just a little something to remind you of your Debs,’ Harry said smiling. Rachel tore open the wrapping paper and lifted the cover of the little black box. Inside in a bed of velvet nestled a delicate gold R on a gold chain.
‘Oh Harry! Oh Harry, it’s beautiful,’ Rachel exclaimed. Forgetting her shyness and inhibitions, she flung her arms around him and kissed him on the cheek. He kissed her back, laughing.
‘Good heavens!’ William’s exclamation caused them both to turn around. Her father was framed in the doorway looking at them in shock.
‘Good evening, Mr Stapleton,’ Harry said politely.
‘Young man, I hope your intentions towards my daughter are honourable. It is not respectful to maul her like that,’ William said icily. Rachel nearly fainted. She couldn’t believe her ears. Her father was making an absolute show of her. She wished the floor would swallow her up.
Harry’s face grew stern. ‘Mr Stapleton, I was not mauling Rachel. I have the utmost respect for Rachel. I’ll take good care of her.’
‘I hope so. Our daughter was brought up to behave like a lady.’ William glowered. ‘Make sure you have her in by a reasonable hour.’
‘Harry, you and Rachel enjoy yourselves. Off you go now. I’ll be looking forward to hearing all about it in the morning.’ Theresa marched past her husband and kissed Rachel on the cheek. William stood stiffly to one side. He didn’t say goodnight.
‘Harry, I’m really sorry about that,’ said Rachel mortified. She felt like crying. The evening was ruined before it began.
Harry stopped short and turned to her. ‘Now listen, Rach, we had an agreement,’ he said firmly. ‘Tonight we’re going to have fun. Forget all that. I have. Your father is your father and there’s nothing you can do about him, so just don’t take any notice of him. Right?’
‘Right,’ Rachel murmured.
‘Here, let me put your R on.’ He took the little box from her and fastened the chain around her neck. ‘Now, this is the moment the fun starts. OK?’
‘OK,’ she agreed light-heartedly. This time, Harry gave her the lightest kiss on her lips. Rachel’s heart soared. Her very first kiss. Not even William could ruin that. Hand in hand, they walked out to Harry’s father’s car which Harry had borrowed for the evening.
‘That insolent young pup,’ fumed William, skulking behind the curtains as he watched Rachel and Harry embracing. ‘I’ve a good mind to go out there and forbid her to go to that dance. That reprobate is a bad influence on my children.’ He made to go to the front door. His wife blocked his path.
‘You’ll do no such thing, William Stapleton. You’re not going to ruin Rachel’s night any more than you have. How could you embarrass her in front of her young man like that? How dare you ask Harry Armstrong if his intentions were honourable? You should be ashamed of yourself.’
‘I don’t understand you at all lately, Theresa,’ William said plaintively. ‘I’m only concerned for our daughter’s welfare. You don’t know what it’s like out there. I have far more experience of the world than you do. You must be guided by me. Young girls are getting pregnant, and even worse, going to England for abortions. You don’t want Rachel to end up like that, do you?’ he demanded. ‘That lad has no respect for her.’
‘That lad has far more respect for Rachel than you have. I can tell you one thing, I’d die happy knowing that he would look after her. He’d make a better job of it than you. Now leave me in peace, William. I’m tired and I’m going to bed,’ Theresa said wearily.
William sat on his own in the kitchen and felt a burning resentment towards his daughter. Ever since Theresa’s heart attack, Rachel had been getting away with murder, because he was too nervous of causing a row in case Theresa took another seizure. Well Theresa had gone to bed, she’d be asleep when Rachel got in. But he wouldn’t. He’d be waiting up for her and by heavens he was going to give her what for. If she thought she was going to carry on like a trollop under his roof, she had another think coming.
‘Ready?’ asked Harry as he tucked Rachel’s arm in his and led her up the steps of St Angela’s. Mother Rosario was there to greet them.
‘Rachel, you look delightful. And what a handsome young man. Go up to the Parlour and meet the other sisters and have some tea and biscuits,’ she said. Rachel took a deep breath. She wondered if Glenda and Mary and the rest of them were there. She had looked forward to this moment for so long. At night, in bed, she had imagined the expression on the faces of her classmates as she swanned into the Parlour, arm in arm with Harry. It would be her moment of triumph after all the hours of misery they had caused her. Let them call her Specky-Four-Eyes now! Rachel knew that none of them expected her to turn up. Even though she’d paid for the tickets. Mary Foley had met her in the street and announced that they were all dying to meet Rachel’s mystery man. She’d said it with a sneer on her face, Rachel had longed to give her a good hard slap.
Now Mary would see just who the mystery man was. And Mary’s jaw would drop and she’d be mad with envy, because Mary fancied Harry like mad, according to Ronan.
Now that the moment was upon her she felt nervous. Maybe they wouldn’t take any notice of her at all. Maybe she had just been building it up in her own mind all along.
‘Hope there’s a few chocolate biscuits left,’ Harry said as they walked along towards the Parlour.
‘You and Ronan are the greatest pair of gannets that I’ve ever met,’ Rachel laughed.
‘I’ve been to a few of these Debs things. Don’t get your hopes up about the meal, you never get half enough to eat. So stock up with biscuits,’ he advised. ‘Anyway we can always go for chips after it and eat them on the sea front.’
‘I’ve got to be in at a reasonable hour.’ She giggled.
‘I might have you home before daybreak, we’ll see,’ Harry teased. They were laughing as they walked into the Parlour and the first person Rachel saw was Glenda Mower. Glenda looked at her, and looked again, an expression of disbelief on her face. Glenda, who was lanky and thin as a rake, wore a very revealing gown with shoestring straps. Unfortunately, Glenda did not possess a bust. Two fried eggs was a good description of Glenda’s bosom, Rachel thought smugly. Rachel didn’t even bother to say hello.
Sister Bernadette and Sister Anthony made a beelin
e for them. ‘Rachel Stapleton, I wouldn’t recognize you,’ Sister Anthony exclaimed. She had a rather loud voice and everybody turned to look. Out of the corner of her eye, Rachel saw Mary and Eileen staring at her.
‘Who’s the fine thing she’s with?’ Rachel heard Eileen ask.
‘His name’s Harry.’ Mary scowled and Rachel savoured the moment of her triumph. It was almost worth everything she’d endured at her classmates’ hands.
‘How is your mother, dear? And who is this young man?’ Sister Bernadette asked kindly.
‘My mother’s feeling much better, Sister, and this is Harry Armstrong, a friend of mine.’ Rachel had always liked Sister Bernadette, who was a kindly soul.
‘Hello Harry.’ Sister Bernadette shook hands with him. ‘I wish I was thirty years younger and going to a Debs. Have a good time tonight.’
‘Oh we will, Sister, don’t worry,’ Harry said cheerfully, squeezing Rachel’s hand.
‘Hi Rachel, you look gorgeous.’ Rachel turned to see Michelle Butler smiling at her. Michelle looked stunning. Her auburn hair was worn in a sophisticated chignon, and her white sheath dress with the mandarin collar was very chic.
‘Hi, Harry.’
‘Hi, Michelle.’ Harry smiled. ‘You look good.’ Rachel’s heart sank. They knew each other. No doubt Harry was one of Michelle’s legion of admirers.
‘We’re cousins.’ Michelle grinned. ‘You take good care of Rachel, I’ll be watching,’ she warned. ‘Do you think we could all sit together at the meal? Rachel, when we get there we’ll rearrange the place-names. OK?’
‘OK,’ Rachel agreed happily. She’d enjoy sitting with Michelle, now that she knew she was Harry’s cousin. Harry gave Michelle and Liam, her boyfriend, a lift to the hotel. They left before the others so that Michelle could rearrange the place settings.
‘I was supposed to be sitting with Glenda Mower and Co. I’m glad I’m not stuck with them,’ she said to Rachel, who was waiting for her outside the function room.
‘I’ve put Eileen and Mary and Glenda together and Joanne Douglas.’ Rachel giggled. Joanne and Eileen were two of a kind. Two know-alls who were highly competitive and very ambitious. They didn’t like each other at all.
‘That should be good,’ Michelle grinned. ‘I put Lizzie McCarthy and Fay Gleeson at our table. They’re good fun.’
They were indeed good fun and the gales of laughter from table eight caused Mary Foley and her cohorts to cast envious glances in their direction. The roast beef was as tough as old boots, the potatoes were watery and the vegetables stringy but the four couples enjoyed themselves. To her great surprise, Rachel was having fun. She felt very relaxed with Harry and Michelle. By the time the meal was over and they’d had a drink, she was having the time of her life. It got even better when Ronan and Kate joined them and they all danced and laughed and chatted companionably.
Some time later she and Harry jived to a lively rock and roll number and when it was over Rachel was breathless. ‘Are you having fun?’ He put his arm around her as they made their way back to the table.
‘This is the best night of my life, Harry. Thanks for bringing me,’ Rachel enthused, eyes shining.
‘Thanks for asking me.’ He smiled. ‘I’m having a great time too and you look beautiful,’ he told her. Then he bent his head and kissed her and she kissed him back and they laughed and Mary Foley and Eileen Dunphy and Glenda Mower, who were seated at the table beside them, looked on in envy. Rachel caught their exchange of glances. She didn’t care. Harry was the most handsome man in the room and the nicest. Glenda’s fella was pissed and couldn’t put two words together. Mary’s Gerry looked as if he was bored out of his skull and Eileen’s was a little weed of a chap with heavy-framed glasses and a studious air. Joanne’s bloke had left her in the lurch and got off with someone else, they were snogging by the fire escape.
None of her classmates were having as good a time as she was now, Rachel thought with satisfaction, wondering why she had been so impressed by them at school. She’d never have to have anything to do with them again, she thought happily as she took the glass of Coke that Harry had brought her.
Later, when the dance was over, Ronan and Kate and she and Harry bought fish and chips and a couple of bottles of wine and had a little picnic on the sea front. It was a cool night but they were having such fun none of them noticed. The wine made Rachel tipsy and she chortled away to herself.
‘I’d better sober you up before you get home,’ Harry said in dismay, although he couldn’t help laughing.
‘I don’t want to be sober. I’ll just tell Da to piss off.’ Rachel giggled.
‘Come on, we’ll go back to my house and have coffee,’ Harry said firmly. They drove back to Rathbarry in high spirits. Harry made coffee and instructed Rachel to drink some.
‘But I don’t want to be sober,’ she protested. ‘I feel very happy and giddy. I want to stay like this.’ She was on an absolute high. The evening, despite its disastrous start, had been a dream. She was full of confidence, ready for anything, even her father.
‘Oh come on, have a cup of coffee or Ronan will kill me,’ Harry begged.
‘No I won’t,’ Ronan said cheerfully. ‘If Rachel wants to go home tipsy, let her. She’s not a schoolgirl any more.’
‘Please Rach, have some coffee or your father will say I’m a bad influence,’ Harry teased. And to please him, she drank three cups.
He walked her home and they kissed at the garden gate.
‘I had a wonderful time.’ She sighed against his cheek.
‘It won’t be long until you’re in Dublin. You can let on you’re going on a field trip in geography or something and you can stay for the weekend and we can have some fun,’ he said. Rachel felt incredibly happy. To think that he wanted to see her again. It was unbelievable.
‘You’d better go in,’ he said. He could see William’s shadow against a bedroom window. ‘Goodnight, Rachel.’
‘Goodnight, Harry,’ she echoed. Her heart was bursting with happiness. She wanted to tell him that he was the nicest most wonderful person in the world. She fingered the gold R at her throat. It would always be her dearest treasure.
‘Goodnight, Harry, and thanks,’ she called again before slipping quietly into the house.
Harry was worried. He knew William Stapleton was waiting for Rachel. He wondered if there was going to be a row. It was late, he conceded. After four a.m. But it was her Debs night, for God’s sake. He smiled, thinking of the fun they’d had. It had been a great night after all. Rachel really enjoyed herself. The face of her when he’d given her the gold chain with the R on it. You’d think it was the crown jewels. It had been an impulse, buying that. He was walking along Henry Street. One of the jewellers was having a half-price sale and he spotted it. He just knew it was right for Rachel. Why he did it, he just didn’t know. There was something sad about Rachel. Something that made him want to protect her. He usually went for very self-confident articulate young women. Like the girls he was at college with. Rachel had always been Ronan’s shy younger sister and he hadn’t taken much notice of her. But lately he found he was thinking about her a lot. She had lovely eyes and a very good figure, even if she didn’t dress to make the most of it. When she came to Dublin he was going to make sure she didn’t spend all her time swotting, he decided. Life was for living and, if he had anything to do with it, Rachel Stapleton was going to start living it to the full. Father or no father. William’s light had been turned off, he noted. Did that mean he’d gone back to bed or was he giving his daughter a ticking off? He’d never met anyone who aroused such animosity in him as Rachel’s father. The sooner she was free of him the better, Harry thought grimly as he walked home.
Theresa heard the voices at the gate. A sliver of light under her door told her that William had heard them too and had switched on his bedside light. She heard his bed creak as he got out of it. Theresa was out of bed in a flash.
She’d been waiting for this all night. She’d list
ened to her husband pacing the floor downstairs until two a.m. She’d heard him come up and get undressed and pace the bedroom floor. She’d heard him get into bed, and now she heard him getting out of it, all ready to confront Rachel and ruin her night.
Silently, in her bare feet, she padded down the landing to his room. Ronan wasn’t in yet either. He was probably giving Harry a chance to see Rachel home.
William was standing at the window, peeping through the curtains. He jumped when his wife closed the door behind her.
‘It’s disgraceful what they’re up to outside. We’ll be the talk of the neighbourhood. Wait until I go down and tell that fella never to set foot in this house again. Where’s my dressing-gown?’
Theresa calmly locked the door and palmed the key.
‘You’re going nowhere, William,’ she said.
‘Get out of my way, woman,’ her husband raged.
‘I have the key to the door, William, you’ll have to fight me for it.’
‘Have you taken leave of your senses, Theresa?’ William was aghast.
‘No,’ she said quietly. ‘But I’ll not have the happiest night of my daughter’s life ruined, as long as I have breath in my body to prevent it.’
‘But she’s behaving in an immoral manner outside our front door.’
‘Good! I hope she’s enjoying it,’ Theresa said calmly.
‘Wh . . . What?’ William stuttered.
Foreign Affairs Page 21
