‘Me neither.’ Beth sighed.
‘Helen’s the best in the world,’ Paula said happily. ‘She really understands what it’s like to be our age. I wouldn’t get away with half the things I get away with here if I was at home. I wouldn’t be allowed to lie in until twelve either. Saturday’s mad at home. All the hoovering and dusting and polishing has to be done.’
‘Same here,’ echoed the girls.
‘Howya, girls. Off for a night on the tiles?’ Blue Car was walking up the road, a tennis racquet in his hand.
‘Hi,’ Paula said cheerfully. Blue Car smiled back. ‘Are ye off into town?’
‘Yeah, we’re off to a party,’ Paula said hastily, feeling it would be unsophisticated to admit that they were going to the local disco. Prudently Beth and Jennifer said nothing, letting their leader do all the talking.
‘Talking of parties,’ Blue Car announced. ‘We’re having a party next Saturday week. Some of the nurses from the house up the road and some of the blokes from the station are coming. If you want to bring a bottle and call in, feel free,’ he invited.
‘Sure, yeah, we’ve nothing planned so far for next Saturday,’ Paula said lightly.
‘Great stuff, see ye Saturday.’ Blue Car waved and carried on up the road.
‘Yes! Yes! Yes!’ Paula exulted. ‘And about time too.’
‘He’s got a real Cork accent, hasn’t he?’ Beth giggled. ‘“Off for a night on the tiles?”’
‘He must think we’re much older than we are. What will we bring for a bottle?’ Jennifer wondered.
‘A bottle of wine will do fine,’ Paula said.
‘I think I’ll just say I’m going to Mick’s, at home,’ Beth decided.
‘Good thinking,’ Jennifer agreed. ‘I’ll do the same. Will you tell your aunt or will she mind?’
‘Not at all, she thinks the three of them are very nice. They’ve never caused her any hassle since they came. I know she was a bit worried when she heard the house was going to be let. I don’t think Helen will mind at all,’ Paula said confidently. ‘This is the chance we’ve been waiting for, girls. I can’t wait.’
Thrilled with themselves, the trio swanned down the street all ready to boogie.
Helen watched the three girls through the hall window. They all looked lovely. Paula especially. She loved the bubbly anticipation of their night at the disco. It only seemed like yesterday that Helen had been off out with her friend Breda. All dressed to kill and made up to the nines, on the hunt for a man. She’d been happy then. Happy and carefree. Never in a million years would she have seen herself as a separated wife, alone and lonely.
‘Oh stop whingeing,’ she chided herself crossly. ‘You’re not doing too badly.’
She’d come a long way since last year. Then she’d wallowed in her misery, been scared of the future and blamed her husband for everything. Now she had a job. She was secretary to the managing director of a large travel agency and she loved it. She was earning her own money and she’d told Anthony that she was able to keep herself. He had wanted to keep paying her a monthly sum, but Helen was adamant. She didn’t want his money. She could stand on her own two feet. Anthony protested but she’d cut him off and told him to give it to Molly as she was quite content to be a kept woman. It was a bitchy remark, she knew, but it had just burst out of her in spite of her best intentions.
‘There’s no need for that,’ Anthony said furiously. ‘It’s beneath you.’
‘Oh don’t annoy me, Anthony. I know why you want to go on giving me money. It’s to salve your conscience, and make you feel better,’ she’d accused.
‘Look, I still feel responsible for you. I want to look after you financially,’ Anthony argued.
‘Well I don’t want you to look after me financially. I don’t need you to look after me financially. I can do it myself, thank you,’ Helen retorted, ignoring his look of displeasure.
Did he think she was going to be the dependent little wife, grateful for his largesse, for ever? Huh! snorted Helen as she left him sitting in the Shelbourne, where they’d arranged to meet. She’d gone in to Brown Thomas and treated herself to a bottle of Chanel No. 5, to celebrate her financial independence.
The job had given her back confidence and self-esteem. It was good to have to get up in the morning and go to a job that challenged and excited her. Paula had commented on how much perkier and more zestful she’d become. Helen’s face softened into a smile as she thought of her precious niece. Having Paula come to live with her had been the best thing she could have done. She was such good company, they enjoyed living together. It was fun to go into town on Saturday, window-shopping and occasionally having a little spree. They went to the pictures, the theatre, art galleries and museums. They dined out every now and again. Sometimes they drove to the coast in Helen’s Ford Capri.
Paula had made her get out of the house and start living. She had been sympathetic up to a point and then she’d more or less told her aunt to get on with it. Helen admired her niece greatly. She worked very hard at school, because she was ambitious and because she didn’t want to give Maura and Pete any excuse to bring her back to Waterford. She didn’t abuse Helen’s trust by staying out later than she should. In fact she caused Helen no worry at all. For someone so young she was very mature, Helen reflected. It must have been because she grew up with older siblings and was much in the company of adults. Her niece’s self-confidence never ceased to amaze her. Paula had an air of real assurance. But then, she always had. The result, no doubt, of all the praise and attention that had been lavished on her as a child.
She was talking of doing some language courses when she finished school. She’d confided to Helen that she was going to look for a part-time job this term, and the money from that, plus her summer earnings, would be put aside for the fees. Paula was an inspiration to her, Helen thought, feeling a bit ashamed of her own self-pity. It would do her good to go and broaden her mind. Maybe she’d join a night class or something. She’d go down to Drumcondra library first thing in the morning, while the sleeping beauties were still oblivious, and see what evening courses were on offer. Paula’d be delighted when she heard. She always encouraged Helen to get out a bit more. Well so she would, she decided happily. And what was more, her boss had offered her a late season holiday at a ridiculously low price. Helen resolved she would phone Maura right this minute and insist she come to Spain with her. It would be a way of saying thank you for allowing Paula to live with her. Maura deserved a holiday more than anyone. They’d have great fun together. It would be lovely to have her sister all to herself for two weeks. Helen was sure that Pete wouldn’t object in the slightest. He was very good like that where his wife was concerned. In fact he’d probably be all for it. It wouldn’t cost Maura anything expect for her spending money. The thought of going abroad again delighted her. There’d been no skiing holiday this year, no trip to the sun. All the things she’d taken for granted when she’d been with Anthony. What the hell, who needed a husband when she could organize these luxuries herself, she thought proudly. She could arrange for her friend Miriam to come and spend the nights with Paula. Miriam was great fun and very obliging, Paula got on well with her.
No longer down in the dumps, Helen went to phone Maura.
Eilis McNally glowered across the dance floor at Paula Matthews, who was dancing and thoroughly enjoying herself. The girl was surrounded by fellas who were all trying their best to impress her. It was always the same at the disco. La Matthews swanned in and instantly became the centre of attention. It was very galling indeed. Who was she, only a blow-in from some scutty little village in the back of beyonds? And yet, wherever she went, people danced attendance on her. It was the same in class. After only a few weeks, she’d become extremely popular. The teachers thought the sun shone out of her arse. She was always to the forefront at lessons and at sport. She was a blooming good basketball player too. The basketball coach couldn’t keep his eyes off her shapely tanned legs. Eilis often caught h
im ogling Paula, who always looked radiantly healthy, vibrant and athletic in her short navy sports skirt and crisp white T-shirt. You’d think she’d been away in Spain or somewhere with that tan she’d got in the summer. Eilis always felt like a frumpy pasty-skinned dumpling beside Paula. Even tonight her classmate looked like a model in those impossibly tight jeans, she thought enviously. Eilis, though not fat, was a good size fourteen. Never in a million years would she ever look as well as Paula Matthews did in her jeans.
The only thing Miss Matthews was no good at was maths. She hadn’t much of a clue and generally only managed a D in her grades. It always gave Eilis enormous satisfaction when the maths teacher read out their grades after their weekly test. Paula’s name was called directly after hers. Eilis frequently got a B and sometimes an A grade. The D sounded very poor in comparison. Eilis made a point of smiling at Paula when the marks were read out, hoping that the other girl would feel discomfited. Paula was usually engrossed in whispering to Jennifer Myles and didn’t even notice. Her poor maths mark didn’t seem to bother her at all, which made Eilis as mad as hell. Paula acted as though she didn’t exist. If there was one thing that did not suit Eilis, it was being ignored. Until Paula Matthews arrived, Eilis was the Queen Bee in the class. Her crown had passed to the supremely confident, impossible-to-ignore country miss. Eilis didn’t like it one little bit.
‘What a pathetic party,’ Paula said in disgust as Sandra O’Reilly’s boyfriend threw up half-way up the stairs on his way to the loo. ‘We should’ve stayed at the disco!’
‘I don’t know about you, but I’m ravenous,’ Beth moaned. ‘There’s nothing here only popcorn and crisps. You’d think from the way Sandra went on today, there was going to be a banquet.’
Paula took a sip of her cider. ‘We could always split and go back home and have the ham sandwiches Helen left out for us,’ she suggested. Sandra’s party was heading for disaster. The next-door neighbours had knocked already to complain about the loud music. A crowd of fellas who none of them knew had gatecrashed, two of them were out in the back garden puking and the other three were drinking as much cider as they could lay their hands on. Sandra herself was pissed, conked out on the sofa, and Eilis McNally was giggling away to herself.
‘Where’s Jenny?’ Paula asked.
‘I think she’s a bit pissed, actually,’ Beth confided. ‘She’s in the kitchen drinking black coffee to try and sober herself up. She doesn’t want to make a show of herself in your aunt’s house.’
‘For God’s sake, she only had two cans of cider.’ Paula scoffed.
‘Yeah, but she’s not used to drinking, like you are,’ Beth explained.
‘You make me sound like a hardened drinker.’ Paula grimaced. ‘Come on, let’s collect Jenny and go.’
‘Party-poopers,’ Eilis tittered. ‘Can’t stay the pace.’
‘We’re going clubbing in Leeson Street actually, Eilis,’ Paula drawled. The other girl’s jaw dropped open. Much to Paula’s satisfaction.
‘You just think you’re the bee’s fuckin’ knees, don’t you, Miss Paula Matthews?’ Eilis snorted. ‘Well let me tell you something. You’re not. They might be impressed by your airs and graces down in the back of beyonds where you come from. You country bumpkin. Up here, we’re not.’ Paula was astonished at her classmate’s outburst. She knew that Eilis didn’t particularly like her. The feeling was mutual. Paula sometimes felt that Eilis was a little jealous of the fun she and Jenny and Beth had. That wasn’t Paula’s problem. She had as little to do with the other girl as possible and left her to her own devices. Now here she was being venomously abusive for no apparent reason.
‘Grow up and get lost, Eilis,’ Paula said, disgusted.
‘Don’t you talk to me like that, ya snobby little wagon.’ Eilis staggered to her feet. It was obvious she was well jarred. ‘I don’t like you, Paula Matthews. You just get up my nose as well as giving me a major pain in the arse! So what do you think about that then?’ she challenged aggressively, hands on her hips. Paula gave her a long cold look.
‘I’m devastated.’ Her tone dripped with sarcasm. She turned her back on her raging classmate and walked out of the room, leaving Eilis almost in tears of frustration.
‘That shut her up,’ she murmured to Beth as they made their way to the kitchen to collect Jenny.
‘She’s really pissed, isn’t she?’ Beth was horrified. ‘She shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. How ignorant.’ Paula laughed at her friend’s indignation.
‘Listen, Beth, don’t worry about the likes of Eilis McNally. I knew a girl like her in St Margaret’s Bay called Monica Boyle and she was a prize bitch. I’m well used to handling the likes of that one in there,’ she said calmly. Eilis’s outburst had been a surprise, but it didn’t particularly bother Paula. People either liked her or they didn’t, and obviously Eilis didn’t like her. Paula didn’t intend to lose any sleep over it.
‘I think I’m drunk,’ Jennifer moaned when they found her. ‘I’m slurring my words.’
‘Don’t be daft, Jen, you couldn’t get drunk on two cans of cider. It’s only your imagination,’ Paula said briskly.
‘Oh!’ Jennifer sounded vaguely disappointed to hear that she wasn’t as inebriated as she thought she was.
‘Come on, we’re going to split. Let’s go home and have some hot chocolate and ham sandwiches.’
‘Great idea,’ Jennifer enthused.
An hour later, they sat in Helen’s kitchen and tucked into a tasty supper. They were in their nightdresses, and looking forward to tumbling into bed and sleeping their brains out.
‘Did you see the get-up of McNally? Did you ever see anything like the hot pants?’ Beth sniggered. ‘Who did she think she looked like? Raquel Welch!’
‘Some hope,’ chuckled Paula. ‘Sandra looked lovely though. She’s very pretty.’
‘She was pretty pissed too,’ Jennifer said. ‘I think she was crazy to have a party like that in her house. I bet the neighbours will be doing their nut. I’d say they’ll complain when her parents come back from their holidays. Just as well Grandpa Myles didn’t live next door, he’d have caused a riot. He’s always moaning at Brenda and me for playing the stereo too loud,’ she confided.
‘I wouldn’t like to have to clean up all that puke.’ Paula shuddered. ‘Imagine the smell in the house tomorrow.’
‘Urgg! Paula, stop!’ Jennifer made a face.
Paula laughed and yawned. ‘I’m looking forward to my lie-in. I hope it’s raining in the morning. I love having a lie-in when it’s lashing rain.’
‘Me too,’ Jennifer agreed. ‘And we’ve got the party to look forward to next Saturday.’
‘I’d say it will be a great party compared to tonight,’ Beth said.
‘You can say that again,’ Paula declared, eyes sparkling with expectation.
Chapter Thirty
‘I don’t think so, darling,’ Helen said. Paula’s heart sank.
‘But Helen, it’s next door. They’re detectives. They won’t make a racket or anything. They’re much too responsible. We’ll only stay for an hour,’ she pleaded.
‘No, Paula. I’m sorry, love. They’ve had parties before that have been very noisy. The neighbours complained. People were very drunk at them. I just don’t think you and the girls are old enough to go to a party like that,’ Helen said firmly.
You should have been at Sandra O’Reilly’s party last weekend, Paula thought sulkily. She wasn’t used to her aunt refusing her anything. In fact it was the first time in her life that she could remember it ever happening. And she didn’t like it.
‘But Helen, it’s not as if it’s miles away or that we’re going to be out until all hours. Couldn’t we just pop in and make an appearance to be polite and then come back here after an hour or so?’ Paula tried a last desperate appeal.
‘Paula, please don’t ask me again. My mind’s made up. Obviously that chap who asked you doesn’t realize how young you are. That’s not surprising, you all loo
k much older than sixteen. But I’m responsible for you while you’re living here in Dublin, and you know as well as I do, love, that your mam and dad wouldn’t allow you to go either. Be fair now.’
‘It would have only been for an hour.’ Paula pouted.
‘No, Paula, I’m sorry. Now that’s the end of it. Invite the girls over by all means but the party is out, I’m afraid. Besides, I’m sure Mrs Myles and Mrs Cleary wouldn’t let Jenny and Beth go.’
Paula knew her aunt was right there. Mr and Mrs Myles were quite strict, as was Mrs Cleary, but still Paula knew that Beth wouldn’t be allowed to go to that party if she asked. The plan had been to say that they were going to a disco as usual.
Paula had never even considered that Helen would not allow her to go. It was a tremendous shock.
‘We’d want to hurry on if we’re going to get to a matinée,’ Helen said cheerfully, beginning to clear away the dinner plates. ‘I love going to the pictures on a wet Sunday afternoon.’
‘I don’t feel like going. I’m going to my room,’ Paula said huffily.
‘Suit yourself.’ Helen’s tone was very cool.
Paula stalked out of the kitchen. She felt humiliated and angry. She wasn’t a child, for heaven’s sake. But Helen had just treated her like one. What on earth was she going to tell the girls? It was going to be very embarrassing indeed, especially when she’d so confidently told them that Helen wouldn’t mind them going to the party at all. If Helen thought she was going to go to the pictures after that rebuff, she had another think coming. She would be as frosty as anything with her aunt until she changed her mind, Paula thought angrily as she flung herself down on her bed and picked up the Mary Stewart novel she was reading. The sound of press doors being slammed and crockery being handled none too gently as the washing-up was done told Paula that her aunt was equally annoyed.
Let her be, she thought furiously, jumping off the bed to close her bedroom door. If Helen was mad, well, she certainly wasn’t as mad as her niece.
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