Every Time We Say Goodbye

by Colette Caddle

  ‘They’re not really dressy enough for a party,’ she said to Rachel.

  ‘But Aunty Marianne often wears trousers.’

  ‘Well, Aunty Marianne has a fabulous figure and would look gorgeous in a sack.’

  ‘I think Aunty Marianne is much too thin,’ Rachel confided, ‘and you have bigger boobs; all the guys like that.’

  ‘Rachel Buckley!’ Jo said, stunned but amused.

  ‘Well, Tracy says they do and that’s why her mum puts those padded things in her bra.’

  Jo bit her lip to stop herself laughing. If Jools Donovan knew the things her daughter told her friends . . . ‘I tell you what, you go through my wardrobe and see if you can find anything nicer.’

  ‘What about Dad?’

  Jo almost groaned at her daughter’s hushed tone. Greg never got up before ten on a Saturday and woe betide anyone who disturbed him any earlier. ‘It’s okay, Dad went to play golf at seven.’

  Rachel grinned broadly. ‘Great, let’s have a fashion show!’

  ‘Let me have another coffee first,’ Jo begged.

  ‘Bring it up with you; oh, come on, Mum, you want to look gorgeous, don’t you?’

  Jo couldn’t remember ever feeling gorgeous, but it was hard to resist Rachel’s enthusiasm and it wasn’t often they had some fun, just the two of them. ‘Okay, lead on, Gok!’

  Jo sat with her back against the headboard and watched in amusement as her daughter went through the wardrobe with a critical eye. Where had her two daughters’ love of fashion come from? Certainly not from her or either grandmother. Greg’s mother seemed to have lived in grey, beige or brown, and Jo had only hazy memories of her mother’s clothes other than that she took very little care of her appearance. She had been a plain, bitter, bad-tempered woman who rarely smiled. It wasn’t surprising, Jo supposed, given the man she’d had to put up with.

  Jo’s father had been a nasty, abusive piece of work who made them all tremble when they heard his key in the door. He always seemed to be shouting though he was worse when he’d been drinking, and her mother’s way of coping was to join him in his drinking. When the two of them had had a few, they tore strips off each other and Jo would either go out or hide in her bedroom, her hands over her ears. It hadn’t been as bad when her big brother Chris had lived at home. He’d stay with her and make her laugh and convince her that it was all a big joke. But as soon as he was sixteen, he’d shoved a piece of paper into the eleven-year-old Jo’s hand and left for ever. When she had smoothed out the page, she found a name and a number and Chris’s almost illegible scrawl: Call these people when you’ve had enough.

  It was almost a year before she’d finally rung that number. She’d been at hockey practice and come home to find both parents passed out in the kitchen, a broken bottle on the floor, alcohol and blood pooling on the tiles and a vicious cut on her dad’s head. Her mother had warned her time and again to stay away from the neighbours and not to tell their business to all and sundry, but she had to do something. She sometimes wondered what would have happened if she’d dialled 999 instead; would she have ever ended up in St Anne’s. She’d never been as happy there as Helen and Marianne, but she’d never have met them otherwise and that would have been a tragedy. She couldn’t imagine how lonely her life would have been without them.

  ‘Mum, you’re not listening!’

  ‘Sorry, sweetheart.’ Jo looked up to see her daughter standing over her, holding a silky, royal-blue dress that was years old.

  ‘This is nice.’

  ‘I’d forgotten I had that,’ Jo admitted. ‘It’s quite low cut.’

  ‘So?’ Rachel grinned. ‘I already told you that you’ve great boobs! Try it on.’

  ‘Not now.’

  ‘Oh, come on, Mum, please?’

  ‘Okay then,’ Jo sighed.

  ‘I’ll go and find shoes that match.’

  ‘I’ll wear my new sandals. They’re comfortable.’

  ‘It’s not about being comfortable, Mum, it’s about being gorgeous.’ Rachel grinned before hurrying downstairs to the hall closet where all their shoes were kept.

  Once alone, Jo quickly changed into bra and pants – she hated anyone seeing her saggy, dumpy body – and pulled the dress over her head. It was a little tight. She hadn’t succeeded in losing the weight she’d hoped to, nor had she joined up to any of the classes that Di had found for her. She was eyeing herself critically in the small mirror of her dressing table when Rachel returned.

  ‘Oh, wow, that looks great. Here, put these on.’

  Jo looked dubiously at the navy high-heeled shoes that she’d hardly ever worn.

  ‘They pinch.’

  ‘Oh, Mum!’ Rachel rolled her eyes.

  ‘Okay, okay.’ Obediently, Jo put on the shoes and did a slightly unsteady twirl. ‘Well?’

  ‘Wow, Mum. You look gorgeous.’

  Jo smiled. ‘I’ll do. Now go and get dressed and tidy your room and then we’ll go and do the shopping.’ She looked once more at her reflection. She didn’t look bad but she was no oil painting. Still the dress was a change from the green one and the high shoes flattered her legs; that should make Greg happy.

  Would he fancy her in this dress? she wondered as she hung it up and donned her shirt and leggings. He wasn’t the sort of man to dole out compliments but she always knew from the look in his eyes if he approved. When they were at the shopping centre, she’d drop into the menswear shop and buy him a new shirt and tie, he’d like that. Then she’d get a nice card for Helen and Johnny to go with their present, which she just knew they would love. It was a small, pretty watercolour of the bay at Portmarnock that their house looked out on. Thinking of Helen made her wonder if she should phone to see if her friend needed help but she dismissed the idea. Helen was a wonderful organizer and no doubt had an army of caterers and cleaners beavering away. No, instead she would get the shopping done, buy Rachel lunch and then it would be time for the hairdresser. Perhaps Maria would work miracles and tame her hair and she might not look too bad at all.

  ‘Colm will you please get off the phone and go and pick up the cake?’

  ‘Hang on a sec,’ her son said to his latest squeeze, a cute little redhead from the Holy Faith School down the road. He put his hand over the mouthpiece. ‘Will you chill, Mum. What’s the rush?’

  ‘Don’t tell me to chill,’ Helen said irritably. ‘Just do it.’

  ‘Gotta go, Jill, I’ll see you later. Ciao.’

  Ciao? Really? Helen despaired. ‘You won’t be seeing anyone later, Colm, you are not going out and missing this party.’

  ‘You don’t want me hanging around all night, especially once Dad starts telling his embarrassing stories, do you?’

  Helen turned away to hide her smirk. Johnny did tend to get nostalgic after a few drinks and would often wax lyrical about their first dates. Helen both loved and hated these anecdotes. She loved that he remembered those days so well and with such fondness, even though it was more than twenty years ago but, a private person, she was uncomfortable at the level of detail he went into. ‘Okay then, but don’t you dare leave until after the cake has been cut, and I want you home by one o’clock.’

  ‘Mum—’

  ‘One o’clock. Now, go and get the cake.’

  ‘Yes, Mother; right away, Mother; going now, Mother.’

  Helen smiled as he sauntered out of the room. He really was so like his father. Johnny’s temperament had been one of his greatest attractions when they first met. He was so calm and self-assured and always smiling; Helen had never met anyone quite like him before. Twenty years, she could hardly believe it. They had been good years, although she and Johnny had had their share of arguments. But in comparison to the rows she’d witnessed between her parents, they were of no consequence and she’d never doubted his love.

  She hoped he’d like his present. She had trawled all the antique shops in Dublin before she’d found what she was looking for. They were heavy, gold and diamond period cufflinks in the t
raditional Irish Claddagh shape: the symbol of love. They hadn’t been cheap but given her recent economizing she didn’t feel too guilty, and anyway Johnny was worth it. She had given him a lilac linen shirt and flamboyant purple silk tie this morning as his present, but now she’d laid them out on the bed for him to wear tonight with his pale grey suit and she left the cufflinks on top as a surprise. She smiled, wondering what he’d bought her. He had presented her with roses this morning but said she must wait till this evening for her proper gift. She really didn’t care what he bought her; every day with him was present enough. She had never dreamed as a frightened child cowering in her room that life could turn out to be as good as this and it was all thanks to him.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Marianne stood in front of the mirror and grimaced at her reflection. Was wearing a red dress tasteless? She’d planned to wear the black, only to discover a tear in the skirt that was very noticeable and even Dot, who was a wizard with a needle and thread, said she wouldn’t be able to repair it at such short notice.

  ‘You look lovely,’ the woman in question said from the doorway.

  ‘Don’t you think it’s a bit much given—’

  ‘No, I don’t. Anyway, you don’t have much choice, love. I told you it was a bit hasty taking all those lovely clothes to the second-hand shop.’

  ‘I got six hundred euros for that lot and when am I going to get to wear stuff like that now?’

  Dot grinned. ‘Nights like tonight?’

  ‘That’s why I kept the black. It’s timeless and fits perfectly; I can’t believe it’s torn and all I’m left with is this thing.’

  ‘You have nothing to feel guilty about, Marianne, remember that.’

  ‘I just don’t want people whispering about me; imagine if one of the children heard.’

  Dot went to the door. ‘Kids!’

  Kate came in from her bedroom looking pretty in pink, her long dark hair held back with a glittering band. ‘What’s up?’

  Andrew came dashing up the stairs, pulling at the stiff collar of his shirt. ‘This is itchy, Mum,’ he complained with a scowl.

  ‘Are you wearing a T-shirt?’ she asked.

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘So after a while you can take the shirt off.’

  ‘But, Mum—’

  Dot pressed her finger to his lips. ‘Shush mister, and tell me, does your mother look nice?’

  Andrew looked at Marianne and smiled shyly. ‘Yes, like a princess.’

  ‘Kate?’ Dot asked.

  Marianne’s daughter nodded silently, but her eyes were smiling.

  ‘Your mum wanted to wear her black dress only it’s ripped and so she has to wear this but she thinks people won’t like her wearing red because your daddy died.’

  Andrew screwed up his face. ‘That’s dumb.’

  ‘Ha!’ Dot’s laugh was triumphant. ‘I couldn’t agree more; what do you think, Kate?’

  ‘Daddy loved you in that dress, Mum. Wear it for him.’

  Marianne hugged her. ‘You know what, you’re right; he did love this dress and he absolutely hated me wearing black.’

  ‘There you go then. Now, is anyone going to tell me I look nice at all?’ Dot twirled, her green floral-print dress flaring out around her.

  ‘You’re gorgeous,’ Marianne smiled. And indeed Dot did look elegant. The silky material of her dress flattered her curvy figure and shapely legs, she’d had her hair done in a more glamorous style for the occasion and was wearing a bright-red lipstick that added a touch of fifties chic.

  ‘Gorgeous, Granny,’ Andrew agreed.

  Kate giggled. ‘We can call you G.G. too!’

  ‘Don’t you dare,’ Dot warned, laughing. ‘Where’s the present?’

  ‘On the hall table.’ Marianne grimaced. The crystal photo frame seemed a paltry gift but Johnny and Helen would be annoyed if she spent money they knew she didn’t have. But she knew they would love the photo she’d put in it; one of them on their wedding day. She’d taken it as the couple were leaving the reception. Helen looked radiant in a vivid blue dress, her eyes shining with happiness, while Johnny wore a broad, proud smile and had a protective arm around her shoulders. It captured the happiness of the day perfectly.

  Dot had also made up a stunning floral display from the garden; another personal touch that Helen would appreciate.

  ‘I bet we’ve got them the best presents,’ Andrew said, dancing down the stairs ahead of them.

  ‘Of course we have!’ Dot said.

  Marianne slipped into her red high heels. ‘Kate, can you manage the bouquet?’

  ‘Yes.’ Kate gently touched a velvet pink rose. ‘They really are lovely, Granny.’

  ‘I will miss the garden,’ Dot admitted.

  Kate looked up at her in alarm. ‘What do you mean? Where are you going?’

  ‘You’re not going away, Granny, are you?’ There was panic in Andrew’s voice.

  Dot looked at Marianne, her eyes filled with horror and remorse at her gaffe; they had agreed not to tell the children they were moving until the last minute so they wouldn’t have time to dwell on it.

  Marianne smiled at her to let her know it was okay, but she felt flustered realizing that she would have to tell them now. ‘Granny’s not going anywhere, at least not without us. Come on, we’ll be late.’

  ‘But, Mum—’

  ‘I’ll explain in the car, Kate,’ Marianne said, her mind racing; what could she say? How could she tell the children that they were broke and about to leave their home and school? She hadn’t had time to prepare, hadn’t given any thought to how she would explain; she’d thought she had weeks to come up with a plausible reason. But she had no choice but to explain now otherwise their imaginations would run wild. Judging by Andrew’s expression, his already was.

  ‘I’m sorry, love.’ Dot put a hand on her arm as the children climbed into the back of the jeep. ‘You could tell them that the boiler or something is broken and that’s why we’re moving to my place for a few months.’

  ‘No, Dot, I don’t think so. Mandy said it was important to be honest with them and anyway, a busted boiler wouldn’t account for them having to move schools.’

  Dot looked upset. ‘Me and my bloody big mouth.’

  ‘It’s done now, don’t worry about it. Just follow my lead.’

  ‘I’m keeping my mouth shut from now on,’ Dot assured her.

  They followed the children to the jeep and Marianne used delaying tactics for as long as she could. Were they all wearing seat belts? She couldn’t talk while she was reversing out of the drive, or pulling out into busy traffic for that matter but, finally, when she was cruising out along the coast road towards Portmarnock and the silence was heavy in the car, she knew she had to say something. She decided to follow Mandy James’ advice, and taking a deep breath, announced: ‘We’re moving to Granny’s house.’

  Dot shot her a look of alarm but said nothing.

  ‘Cool,’ said Andrew, ‘there are loads of kids to play with there.’

  Marianne exhaled. Taking them to that street party had been inspired. Both children had really enjoyed it.

  ‘But why?’ Kate asked.

  Marianne took a quick look over her shoulder; Kate didn’t look upset so much as puzzled. ‘We don’t have as much money now that Daddy’s not here to look after us,’ she explained. ‘If we move to Granny’s, we can rent out our house and get more money that way.’

  Kate absorbed this for a moment and then said, ‘So are we broke?’

  ‘Of course we’re not,’ Dot laughed.

  ‘But we aren’t rich either,’ Marianne added quickly; she didn’t want Dot making any promises they wouldn’t be able to keep. ‘We need to make some changes to the way we’ve been living.’

  ‘Like what?’ Kate asked.

  ‘Well, I’m going to sell the jeep and I’ll probably get a job and,’ Marianne took another deep breath; this was the cruncher, ‘you’ll be leaving school and going to the one around the corner
from Granny’s.’

  ‘Oh good,’ Kate said. ‘I hate my school.’

  Marianne almost crashed the car. ‘Don’t be silly; you don’t hate it.’

  ‘I do.’

  ‘But why, pet?’ Dot asked, turning around to look at her granddaughter.

  ‘There’s a gang in my year that are always picking on me, taking my stuff and trying to get me into trouble.’

  ‘The little bitches,’ Dot exclaimed, incensed.

  ‘Granny!’ Andrew crowed.

  ‘Well, really!’

  Marianne stopped at the level crossing as the lights flashed and the barrier came down announcing the imminent arrival of a train. She turned to look at her daughter. ‘Why didn’t you tell me, darling?’

  Kate shrugged. ‘It hasn’t been as bad since Daddy died; most of them feel sorry for me now and if the teachers catch them saying anything bad, they get into trouble.’

  ‘I hate school too,’ Andrew announced.

  ‘Do you, darling?’ Marianne took his statement with a pinch of salt; he always copied whatever his big sister said. She would let Kate’s comments go for now but they had worried her; she would revisit them another time when they were alone.

  ‘Do you think you’ll like going to school in Kilbarrack?’ Dot asked them.

  ‘Is it really only around the corner? Will we be able to walk?’ Andrew asked.

  ‘You will indeed or go on your bike; young Billy next door goes on one of those strange skate contraptions.’

  ‘A flicker? Oh, I’d love to get one of them!’

  ‘Dream on,’ Marianne told him. ‘I told you we need to save money, not spend it.’

  ‘It’s okay,’ he said. ‘I’ll get one for my birthday.’

  ‘Haven’t you heard a word Mum’s said, dork?’ Kate said to him. ‘We’re broke.’

  ‘You haven’t been listening either then, Kate,’ Marianne told her. ‘We’re not broke we just need to tighten our belts a little; there won’t be any foreign holidays for a while.’