by Sandy Taylor
I looked down at the floor and he put his arm around my shoulder. ‘I was only codding you. Hasn’t anyone told you yet, Cissy, that you are beautiful?’
I looked up at him and frowned. Was he making fun of me again?
‘Because you are,’ he said gently.
‘Am I?’ I said.
‘You’re the most beautiful girl in Balleybun, so now you know and you will always remember that it was Colm Doyle who was the first to tell you, because you can be sure that I won’t be the last. Now let’s go and pay a visit to your friend Nora,’ he said, ruffling my hair.
I was smiling all the way up the hill. Colm didn’t think I was scrawny at all. Colm Doyle thought I was beautiful, which meant that Mary was wrong and he would wait for me. I felt like my heart was singing.
When we got to the workhouse, Colm jumped down from the trap and rang the big old bell beside the gate. Then he got back up beside me and we waited for someone to come.
What if Mary was right? What if they did keep me in? I’d never see the mammy again or the granddaddy or Buddy or Colm or… As I thought about all the people in my life that I loved, I realised that, even though Nora was still in there, I didn’t ever want to go back, especially not over the mammy’s dead body.
As Mr Dunne walked towards us, I whispered, ‘Don’t let them keep me in, will you, Colm?’
‘Never,’ he said. ‘I’d fight to the death for you.’
‘Really?’
‘Really.’
Then I felt more cheerful and I couldn’t wait to see Nora.
‘Well, hello there, Cissy,’ said Mr Dunne, opening the big iron gates. He looked just how I remembered him from when I’d lived in the workhouse. ‘Are you coming back to us, or just paying a visit?’
‘Paying a visit,’ I said very quickly.
‘Well, I’m happy to see you, child, and you are very welcome. I’ll get the churns, Colm,’ he said, starting to walk away.
‘I’d like to see Nora, Mr Dunne,’ I called after him.
‘I’ll see if I can find Mrs Foley,’ he shouted over his shoulder.
I stared up at the workhouse. I could see why Mary thought it looked like a prison. It was tall and grey, with rows and rows of windows that looked like beady eyes staring down at me. I had to remind myself that I’d been happy there but I began to think that maybe the mammy hadn’t and that was why she didn’t like me to talk about the place.
Eventually, Mr Dunne came back, carrying two big churns. Walking behind him were Nora and Mrs Foley. I went over and put my arms around my friend.
‘Wait a minute,’ I said.
I ran back to Colm, who was standing beside Blue. ‘Could we take Nora for a spin, Colm, so that she can see the sea?’
‘We can, of course,’ he said, smiling.
I went back to Nora. ‘Can me and Colm take Nora out on the strand for a bit of a spin?’ I said to Mrs Foley.
She smiled down at Nora. ‘Would you like that, Nora?’ she asked.
Nora’s little face lit up with joy. ‘Oh, I would,’ she said.
‘Be sure to have her back for her dinner, Cissy.’
‘I will,’ I promised, taking Nora’s hand.
As we walked over to Colm, I said, ‘Where’s Mr Dunne’s dog?’
‘Oh, Cissy,’ Nora said gently. ‘He was taken up to heaven only last week. Mr Dunne was desperate sad about it.’
I felt sad as well, because I’d grown to love that smelly old dog. I held Nora’s hand and we went over to Mr Dunne. ‘I’m sorry for your loss, Mr Dunne,’ I said.
‘Ah sure it was a sad day, Cissy. He might have smelt like a tinker’s arse, but he was a good pal.’
‘I’ll light a candle for him on Sunday if the mammy will give me a penny.’
‘Thank you, Cissy, you’re a good girl.’
Me and Nora held hands as Blue trotted through the town and out towards the strand.
‘Oh, Cissy,’ she said, when the sea came into view. ‘Is that really the sea?’
‘It is, Nora, and don’t you think it’s beautiful?’
Nora didn’t answer me at once; she just stared and then she said, ‘It makes you believe there’s a God, doesn’t it?’
‘Have you ever doubted it, Nora?’
She looked down at her poorly leg and sighed. ‘Sometimes,’ she said.
‘Oh, Nora, you must always believe in God and the saints and the angels, otherwise they’ll never let you in and when we die, we’ll never see each other again.’
She stared out at the sea. ‘No one but God could make that,’ she said, smiling.
‘Do you want to go down to the shore?’
‘Oh, yes.’
‘Colm?’
‘You go ahead. I have no notion to get my feet wet.’
I took Nora’s hand and helped her down from the trap and then we walked to the water’s edge. We took off our boots and placed them side by side on the wet sand. Nora squealed as the cold water ran between her toes. ‘Oh, Cissy,’ she said, ‘this is the happiest day of my life.’
I looked at my best friend and for no reason at all I felt like crying.
When I got home the granddaddy was nodding off by the fire. Buddy was curled up on his lap. He wagged his tail when he saw me but he stayed with the granddaddy.
I coughed and the granddaddy opened one eye.
‘Do dogs go to heaven, Granddaddy?’ I said.
He shuffled himself up in the chair and Buddy jumped off his lap.
‘What’s that you say?’
‘Dogs, Granddaddy, I was wondering if they go to heaven when they die.’
‘Well now,’ he said, lighting up his pipe and puffing smoke into the room so that I couldn’t see his face any more. ‘Do you have a particular dog in mind?’
‘Mr Dunne’s dog, up at the place that Mammy doesn’t want me to mention.’
‘Then I’d say it all depends on the dog,’ he said.
‘How do you mean?’
‘Well, it depends whether he was a good dog or a bad one.’
‘I think he was a good dog, Granddaddy. He smelt like a tinker’s arse but sure that wasn’t his fault, was it? I mean, you smell like a dead ferret but you’re nice and kind and I’m sure you’ll go to heaven.’
‘Thank you, Cissy,’ he said. ‘I shall rest easy in my bed tonight, knowing St Peter won’t be slamming the door in my face because of my lack of hygiene.’
I smiled at him. ‘I’m glad I’ve put your mind at rest, Granddaddy.’
Chapter Eleven
Colm Doyle started walking out with Alana Walsh. Alana was very pretty; she had long dark hair that she wore in a plait that reached down to her waist. The other thing that worried me was that she was a lot closer to Colm’s age than I was.
Mary and I were sitting on the slob bank overlooking the river.
‘They were strolling along past the lighthouse, Cissy,’ she said. ‘Holding hands, they were.’
‘Are you sure it was my Colm?’
‘It was your Colm alright, walking along as brazen as you like as if he hadn’t promised himself to you.’
‘Maybe he only said it to keep me happy, Mary, just like you said.’
‘A promise is a promise, Cissy, and not to be taken lightly.’
‘She’s very beautiful, isn’t she?’
‘If you like that sort of thing.’
‘What’s not to like?’
‘She’s very blowsy, don’t you think?’
‘Blowsy?’
‘Yes, she was posing mad, walking along beside Colm as if she owned the feller.’
‘Maybe Colm likes blowsy. Maybe I’m not blowsy enough?’
‘Yer fine as you are, Cissy. You wouldn’t want to be getting all blowsy just to please Colm Doyle and anyway, he doesn’t strike me as the sort of boy who would be impressed by blowsy.’
‘I hope not.’
‘Anyway, fellers don’t go around marrying blowsy types, their mammies wouldn’t approve. Maybe you should as
k Colm if the contract between the two of you has been severed.’
‘I couldn’t ask him that, Mary.’
‘Then you’ll just have to wait until he tires of her. I’m sure that won’t be long. Now don’t be looking so sad, Cissy. It’s not the end of the world and didn’t Colm say that you were the prettiest girl in Balleybun?’
‘He did.’
‘Well, there you are then. I’d say he’s just passing the time with Alana Walsh while he’s waiting for you to grow up. My daddy says that men have their needs and I think that has something to do with blowsy types like Alana Walsh.’
I hoped that Mary was right but it didn’t stop me from feeling terrible sad. I had a word with the granddaddy, who was very wise and knew the difference between a river and the sea.
‘Do you think Colm will come back to me, Granddaddy?’ I said.
The granddaddy scratched his old head. ‘I’m no expert in the ways of the heart, Cissy. I had a fine woman and I treated her badly, may God forgive me. If I had her with me now it’d be a different story altogether. I’d treat her like gold dust, so I would. If me old legs would get me as far as the church, I’d get down on me knees and ask God’s forgiveness.’
Just then Mammy came in from the lane.
‘Be prepared to be on your knees a long time then, old man,’ she said, winking at me.
No matter what Mary said about Alana Walsh being blowsy and that Colm was only going out with her while he was waiting for me I still felt desperate sad, like there was a dead weight lying on my heart. I took to sitting by the window, hoping for a glimpse of him as he went by with Blue.
Mammy noticed that I was off my food.
‘Are you sick, child?’ she questioned.
I shook my head.
‘Then why the glum face?’
I didn’t know whether to tell the mammy or not. I feared she would laugh at me and I had no idea if she was an expert in the ways of the heart.
‘Has someone upset you?’ she went on.
My eyes filled with tears. ‘Colm Doyle is walking out with Alana Walsh.’
‘And what has Colm Doyle’s courting habits got to do with you?’
‘He said he’d wait for me,’ I said softly.
‘Speak up, Cissy,’ she snapped. ‘I can’t hear a word you’re saying.’
I could tell that the mammy was getting cross and I wished I had kept my mouth shut.
‘Colm said he’d wait for me,’ I said, louder.
I could see that the mammy was losing her patience. ‘Wait for you to do what?’ she said.
‘Wait for me to grow up so that we could get married.’
‘If you say one word to ridicule the child, Moira Ryan,’ shouted the granddaddy from his chair beside the fire, ‘I’ll, I’ll…’
‘You’ll what?’ said the mammy. ‘You’ve done your worst, old man, what more can you do?’
‘I’m just saying don’t make her look foolish. What is foolish to you is the God’s truth to her. I won’t have her hurt.’
‘It’s a pity you didn’t have the same sympathy for me when I needed it,’ spat the mammy.
‘Don’t be dragging all that up, Moira. That was then and this is now.’
I stared backwards and forwards at the two of them arguing. ‘Please don’t argue,’ I said. ‘It really doesn’t matter about Colm, it really doesn’t. I’ll get over it, I will, and anyway, Mary says Alana Walsh is very blowsy and Colm will tire of her and come back to me.’
There was silence in the little room but for the peat crackling away in the grate. Then the mammy spoke.
‘All I can say, Cissy, is don't rely on someone else for your happiness. Plant your own garden and don’t be waiting for someone to bring you flowers.’
‘That’s good advice, Moira,’ mumbled the granddaddy.
‘Mammy?’ I said quietly.
‘Yes, Cissy?’
‘We haven’t got a garden.’
The granddaddy started to chuckle. ‘We haven’t got a garden,’ he spluttered. ‘Did you hear that, Moira? We haven’t got a garden.’ He wiped away the tears that were rolling down his old cheeks. ‘I don’t know who fathered that child of yours, Moira Ryan, but I’d say he had a fierce sense of humour.’
And then the mammy was laughing and I felt a big lump of happiness well up in my throat.
I realised that although Mammy wasn’t a great one for talking, she was wise and what she said made sense to me and it made me feel a bit different about things. I liked the idea of planting my own garden even though we didn’t have one.
I started avoiding Colm. I didn’t want to be passing the time of day with him when he was going through his blowsy period. On Saturday morning, he knocked on the door.
‘Tell him I’m not here, Mammy.’
‘Tell him yourself, Cissy. You’re old enough now to see to your own business.’
The mammy opened the door and let him in.
‘Ready?’ he said.
‘I’m not going on the milk round today, Colm,’ I said.
‘Are you ill?’ he asked.
‘The only thing Cissy’s suffering from this day is a heavy heart,’ said the mammy.
‘A heavy heart, eh?’ said Colm, winking at Mammy.
‘Don’t be making fun of me, Colm Doyle. I’ve as much right to a heavy heart as the next person.’
‘You have indeed, Cissy, but I get the feeling that this heavy heart of yours has something to do with me.’
‘And what if it has?’ I said sharply.
‘Then I’d like the opportunity to defend myself. Shall we go for a little ride and you can tell me what I have done?’
‘I wish you would,’ said the mammy. ‘I’ve no stomach for affairs of the heart at this time of the morning.’
I went outside with Colm and he helped me up onto the trap.
‘Where would you like to go?’
‘I don’t care where I go.’
‘We’ll go out the wood road then,’ he said. ‘The trees are something to behold.’
We trotted along in silence. Colm was right about the trees – they were beautiful. The sun shone through the branches, making them look as if they were on fire.
‘Autumn is my favourite season, Cissy,’ said Colm. ‘What’s yours?’
Mine was autumn too but I had no mind to be agreeing with him. ‘Summer,’ I said.
We turned off the road and Blue followed a track into the woods. The colours of the leaves took my breath away – reds and golds and browns falling from the branches and lying on the ground like a multi-coloured blanket beneath Blue’s feet. I wished I wasn’t cross with Colm, because I wanted to tell him that everything was magical and that autumn was my favourite season as well and that this moment with him in this magical place would stay in my heart forever.
Colm helped me down from the trap and sat down on an old log. ‘Will you sit beside me, Cissy?’
‘I will not,’ I said.
‘How can I put this right if you won’t tell me what’s wrong?’
I turned my back on him and walked a bit away.
‘Cissy?’ he said.
I turned around and it all came out in a rush of words: ‘You promised to wait for me and now you’re walking out with Alana Walsh, who’s blowsy, when you said you’d wait for me to grow up so that we could get married… and now my heart is broken because I believed you and you lied to me.’
Colm got up from the log. ‘Oh, Cissy,’ he said.
‘You didn’t mean it, did you? Mary said you only said it to please me.’
He tried to take my hand but I pulled away.
‘Please, Cissy.’
‘Please, Cissy what?’
‘I’m sorry I’ve hurt you,’ he said gently. ‘We were very young, you were only about seven years old, Cissy, and I was only thirteen meself. Maybe Mary is right, maybe I was just trying to please you. I suppose I didn’t take it seriously.’
‘Well, I did, Colm.’
‘I can s
ee that now,’ he said sadly, ‘and I can see that I haven’t been careful enough of your feelings. No one knows what the future is going to bring. You’re still a child.’
I could feel the blood rush to my face. ‘I am not!’ I shouted. ‘I’m almost fourteen.’
‘And I’m almost twenty, Cissy. That’s a good bit older than you. We’re good friends, you and I. I hope we always will be, you are very important to me.’
Tears were running down my cheeks as I listened to him.
‘Come here,’ said Colm gently and he took me in his arms and I breathed in his smell and I felt safe.
‘One day, Cissy Ryan, some young stud of a feller is going to knock you off your feet and you’ll forget all about some eejit of a bloke called Colm Doyle and that’s as it should be. Now we must deliver this milk before we have a revolution on our hands.’
I looked up at him. ‘I won’t ever forget you, Colm Doyle.’
‘And I will never forget you, Cissy Ryan.’
‘Colm?’
‘Yes?’
‘Autumn is my favourite season too.’
Chapter Twelve
The granddaddy was getting older and frailer and these days his legs wouldn’t even take him as far as the pub. I used to think that Buddy was my dog but I came to realise that his loyalty was to the granddaddy. That little dog never left his side; it was as if he knew that the granddaddy needed him more than I did. He slept curled up on his bed at night and he sat at his feet beside the fire in the day. He changed his lonely old life. The mammy had put a chair outside the door and, every day, the granddaddy sat there and let Buddy run around Paradise Alley. Neighbours that he hadn’t spoken to in years came over to say hello and to pass the time of day with him. Now he had plenty of people to talk about as he told me and Mammy about the goings-on in the lane. He’d even taken to having a good old wash every day so as not to put off his friends by smelling like a dead ferret.
It turned out to be a good job that Buddy loved the granddaddy so much because it looked as if I might be going away. I knew that I would miss my little dog but I was glad that the granddaddy would have him for company when I was gone.
I didn’t want to leave the little cottage where I had been so happy but I knew it was time to find work. I loved school and I loved seeing Mary every day but I needed to bring in some money to help Mammy buy the food for me and Granddaddy. I couldn’t wait to hand her my first wage packet. And Mammy said she had been told of a great job that would suit me very well. ‘Colm came to see me today,’ she said. ‘Bridie up at the Hall said they are looking for a girl and she thought of you.’
