Dear Cathy ... Love, Mary

by Catherine Conlon

  I suppose you can remember how awful I was at oral French in Nolan’s class. It’s so much harder to speak it than to write it. For the first week or so here, I hardly opened my mouth. I’m improving a little bit now, though. It’s absolutely amazing how much French I’d forgotten over the summer holidays. But my vocab, which never was very wide, is steadily improving. I think my accent is a little better too.

  At the moment the restaurant they run is open from 12 to 2 p.m. and 7.30 to 9 p.m. But of course by the time they finish up completely it’s usually 3 p.m. and up to about midnight. After next week, though, due to lack of customers, they won’t open at all at night. So, in the evenings the whole family will be together. I’m looking forward to that as they are all really nice. Vivianne, who is terrific at handcrafts, has promised to teach me how to crochet, make lace, do tapestries, etc. They bought a video recorder last week and also have piles of records, although I haven’t seen them yet. So winter should be quite cosy, I hope!

  I suppose I should fill you in on the restaurant staff. At the moment there are three, but I think in peak season there are five or six, besides Vivianne and François that is.

  Chantal is in her early twenties and is the waitress. She’s very nice, quite friendly, has blonde hair and isn’t what one thinks French girls look like. In other words Brigitte Bardot has no competition from her.

  Bruno also has blond hair, is about twenty-two, and is quite tall and reasonably good-looking. He can speak a little English. But he is one of the funniest people I’ve ever met. He’s a great mimic and can say the funniest things in the most serious way! He’s the sort of person you hate eating with because you keep choking on your food. He loves to show off his English by talking to me in it in front of the others, none of whom can speak it. He’s the waiter.

  Then we come to Yvan, who is absolutely, totally and utterly gorgeous! He’s got dark hair, very dark eyes and beautiful bone structure. You mightn’t believe this, but I don’t know what his teeth are like! At mealtimes he sits across from me at the table and often I catch him staring at me, which is a great morale booster, but nothing more. He too is very funny. I think he helps François with the cooking. He’s twenty-four or twenty-five. But one day at dinner Thomas was misbehaving and refused to sit down and Viv said to Yvan, ‘Does your son act like this at the table?’ in French, of course. I’m sure that’s what she said to him. And I thought, Shucks! But on Wednesday the new video recorder arrived and after work Chantal and Yvan came up to watch a film. They were sitting together on the couch holding hands! And I know for definite they’re not married to each other. So now I don’t know if he is or isn’t married. Hey. I’ve thought of something – maybe he’s an unmarried father!

  Apart from these three, though, I haven’t even seen any other young people around St Philibert. I think some kind of plague knocked off everyone between the ages of ten and thirty. As a result I’m very lonely and at the moment that’s really the only cloud on the horizon.

  Every evening after I’ve fixed up the kids I go out walking for about an hour. It gets dark around 9 p.m. Mostly I go along the coast road. There are lots of lovely little beaches and the scenery is really beautiful. I love looking at all the big rocks along by the road. Also there are quite a few teeny-weeny islands in the bay, which are nice to look at. When it gets fairly dark I can see two lighthouses. One is red and the other is yellow. They’re lovely. In a little bay about two miles up the road there are about 100 little boats. They’re absolutely beautiful especially in the evening because the sun goes down behind them. There’s also a lovely pier with a lighthouse at the end – a real postcard scene!

  But again I never ever see anybody. I know Lena had lots of friends but that was in peak season and she was able to meet them on the beach. Also there are absolutely hundreds of holiday homes around here and the owners live in places like Paris. Of course they’re all gone home for the winter. Also I don’t know if I’d like Lena’s friends. I don’t think they’d be quite my sort. Viv was saying that she used to go out to discos, etc., almost every night and often didn’t get in until about 4 a.m. I was rather surprised to learn that. So you can see why I don’t think I’d be nuts about Lena’s pals here. But if I don’t meet somebody of my own age soon, I declare to God, I’ll go out of my mind!

  Oh, I nearly forgot, the first few nights I was here, I left my bedroom window wide open. After two or three days, I noticed these lumps all over one side of my face and on my legs and hands. At first I thought I was allergic to the food or something. But then I found out that they were mosquito bites. I scratched the ones on my limbs and now am all scars. Luckily enough, the ones on my face weren’t itchy and after a while they eventually faded leaving no signs.

  I think I’ve more or less run out of news now. Except I had a letter from Daddy at the beginning of the week and he said that the twins might be going over to London for Christmas. I’d already told him I hope to be there for Christmas. If we are all in London then, it’ll be the first time the five of us (Daddy, Celia, Tish, Lolo and me) have been together in fourteen years for 25 December. But somehow or another I cannot see it getting off the ground.

  Please write soon and let me know how you all are in Carrick. Also did my eyes deceive me or did a girl from Carrick (she’s forty-ish, isn’t she?) really win the Rose of Tralee? Please pass on any information you have about anybody and write soon. Best of luck in your new job.

  Love,

  Catherine

  (I was going to write ‘bons baisers de’ but that brings back too many bad memories of French class!)

  PS Be sure and tell your parents that I was asking for them.

  PPS I don’t believe E— has stopped boring the whole world with her passion for E—.

  PPPS Weather here is very miserable at the moment. It rains a lot and there are a lot of ‘tempests’.

  PPPPS At Roscoff, I had the LeClercqs’ name announced. When they arrived (a little late) they went to the reception desk and the girl pointed me out. But I recognised them from photos Lena had shown me. So we all sorta met halfway across the floor.

  Letter 4 / Signing away the rest of my life!

  Carrick

  Monday, 26 September 1983

  Dear Catherine,

  I’m writing this letter sitting on my bed upstairs. It’s really sunny here today – just like summer. I was thrilled to bits to get your letter the other day. I was in bed when it came but it sure woke me up. I’m glad that you’re settling in grand.

  The last few days here have been hell for me. Last Friday I spent all afternoon trying to get through to the Regional on the phone. Me mam was with me and she nearly drove me bonkers. When I finally got thru – guess what? – yer man was gone home. I came home in a really bad mood, not being able to make up my mind whether I’d go for the Civil Service interview in Dublin next Thursday, whether I’d stick to the accountancy, or whether I’d jump in the Suir! Common sense prevailed and I phoned the Regional again today. I’m starting tomorrow for the accountancy (though the rest of them started last Monday). I then went to Walsh & Gilligan where I had to sign the contract and I’ve got to bring me da over around three o’clock this afternoon to witness it ’cos I’m underage. Now that I’ve signed it I think I’ve made the biggest mistake of my whole life but here goes – I’ll be twenty-four before I’m out of it! The Regional should be an experience anyhow.

  Anyway, I’ll put that subject away now. Did you know we had the Macra na Feirme AGM, in the Bess [Bessborough Arms Hotel]? I was showing your letter to Sue when who should appear but P—, whereupon we made a fuss of hiding the letter, hoping to arouse suspicions. He
started grinning (ooh!); we started blushing. Nothing’s changed. The rest of the meeting was pretty routine. Oh, yeah, I nearly forgot. Tom (blue jeep and eyes) was elected chairman. Pat was elected treasurer. And there was I, 99 per cent certain that I wouldn’t join again. But the thought of missing that soft voice every fortnight … I’m not a masochist after all – so I’m undecided now (what’s new?).

  There’s no gossip happening. It’s absolutely dead around here. I should have done something like you. Actually I keep hearing that from Ma, with whom relations have been strained over the last few days. There was a full-scale row on Friday, but it’s blown over now. Nothing like excitement, huh! Oh by the way, my maman says, ‘Thank card for the Catherine’. I’m not joking – that’s what she actually said! The card was lovely, though.

  I suppose you’ve heard that Tina’s gone back repeating as well as Cooney, Suzanne, Patricia and many more. Come to think of it, not many of us leavers got jobs. I think they are mad (nuts mad) to repeat. The competition for jobs will be worse next year. I was really over the moon that Eleanor got accepted for nursing. She cycled all the way in to tell me last Friday week. She really deserves it, don’t you think? Meanwhile Sue is driving people nuts about college. I phoned Anne Maher and she swore she’d never phone Sue again as last time she got a lecture on why she should have gone to college. NEVER YOU MIND what Gerard and I said about you. All I can say is that he was very complimentative [sic] – and I was surprised at his observance [sic].

  I’m delighted for Celia. I agree that she’s made the right decision. Somebody told me the twins were thinking of leaving too. Is that true?

  Oh, I must ask you: do you spend ALL day at school with Thomas? What about lunch? How far away is the school? (It’s like Mastermind, huh?) Best of luck with the French guys – Bruno and Yvan. It won’t be long before, as the ad says, they ‘can’t resist your womanly wiles, they’ll be powerless to resist … shouldn’t be allowed’!

  If you would like me to send you on the Carrick Opinion or the Munster Express I’d be delighted. No trouble. Honest!

  Listen, I’d better shurrup and bring my da over to W & G to sign the contract. I’ll give you a blow-by-blow account of college in my next letter. (By the way, Alma Grace has been elected to Foróige in Faugheen. I saw it in the paper.) Sorry I haven’t much news. The only thing that happened in Carrick lately is the death of a four-year-old boy. He had jaundice and meningitis and other complications. Everyone here sends you their best. Write soon ’cos it takes so long for the letters in the post anyway.

  Cheryl is working in town, babysitting for her cousin’s baby, Emma (three months). She’s adorable (Emma, that is!). Cheryl comes over every second day and I also go over to her. We went to the pictures together last Wed night. We thought it might be good ’cos John Cleese was in it but it was USELESS. There were only eighteen or so other people there and they weren’t even interested in the film (if you get my drift). Anyway, AU REVOIR (Da’s going mad calling me so I’d better go).

  God bless

  Mary

  PS Any chance of you popping a Jean-Claude or Pierre into an envelope as a pressie for me? PLEASE. XX

  PPS I miss you lots.

  Letter 5 / Diversions! Diversions!

  Trégunc

  (beach near St Phil)

  Tuesday afternoon, 4 October 1983

  Dear Mary,

  Thanks a million for your letter, which arrived yesterday. Congrats on finally committing yourself to something, even if you’ll spend the rest of your life kicking yourself (welcome to the club!). The advice of Auntie Cathy is to remember if you were sitting in a Civil Service office somewhere you’d probably be doing the very same thing. So keep your chin up!

  The fact that Catherine Cummins will be in your class in WRTC should cheer you up. At least, I expect she’s in your class as I had a letter from her last week and she said she’s doing accountancy.

  The same day I received a letter from Sue. I could’ve bloody well killed her. Here I am, dying to hear some news, and she sends me the results of the US Open Tennis, not to mention Brands Hatch Grand Prix! If you can bear a lecture on colleges ring her up some time and ask her about me and Dublin Institute of Technology. It’s not as mysterious as it sounds!

  I also got a letter from Eleanor. She gave me a run-down on the Macra AGM (I knew I should’ve stayed at home and joined!). I was laughing so much that Annique started giving me funny looks. I read the letter at school, you see. I’d love if you could send on the photograph of the whole crowd. Also I’d be eternally grateful if you’d send on the ‘Carrick Notes’ from the Munster or Opinion. There’s no need to go to the bother of sending on the whole paper. Thanks a million for thinking of offering.

  Daddy rang me on Saturday night (oh, his phone bill). I was also talking to Celia and I got a letter from her today. She’s settling in well in her flat. I believe she’s starting secretarial college this week. As far as I can make out, she goes full-time for six weeks. Then she works in the office a few days and goes to college for a few days. Not bad, huh?

  Daddy says he’ll try and come over here for a few days. I hope he’ll be able to manage it. But at the moment he’s busy at work, as he has been for the past fourteen years! Just the same I’m keeping my fingers crossed!

  And while I think of it, you horrible, mean, cruel, awful (oh, yuk! I’ve just seen a lizard!) creature, if you don’t tell me what you and Gerard said about me I’ll be forced to take further action, like writing to him! Using words like ‘observant’ and ‘complimentary’, indeed! Getting me all curious and nosy! D’you know the cliché ‘with friends like that …’ Please, please, give me some indication, clue, tidbit of what you said, please.

  I haven’t forgotten that tomorrow is your birthday. When I get up I’m going to sing ‘Happy Birthday To You’ I promise. I was afraid to buy you a pressie, though, as I’m sure it would either get lost or broken in the post. So I’m afraid you’ll have to wait until I come home again.

  To tell you the truth I don’t know why you want a Jean-Claude or Pierre. Me, I’d make do with a Michael any day. And don’t you dare tell R—. You know what a big mouth she has, and although I like it over here, I don’t want to be exiled for life!

  (By the way, I hope you’re keeping all of these letters, so that they can be published when I’m rich and famous, or alternatively can be used by M. Sherlock Holmes as clues if I’m murdered or anything over here! End of diversion.)

  You may notice that the quality of my writing has deteriorated somewhat. My God, says you, could it possibly get any worse? Well, it’s due to the fact that a four-inch lizard and a heavy tide forced me to evacuate the tiny corner of the beach I was sitting in. So now I’m sitting overlooking the Atlantic, while a force seven wind keeps blowing my paper away. And if it succeeds, you’ll understand why this letter makes even less sense than all of the others!

  You were asking me about school. Well, firstly, it’s about the same distance away as you are from St Mary’s graveyard. And, yes, I do go there all day every day with Thomas, i.e. Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, Friday, half-day Saturday. The other days are free. So you can understand I get terribly bored at times. My main occupations are writing, reading and knitting. Some afternoons, though, while the younger kids, including Thomas, are asleep, I go for a walk or, if it’s really warm, to the beach. Mind you, today it’s freezing.

  As I haven’t enough wool at the moment to make something for myself, I’ve started knitting for the dolls at school. Yesterday I made a dress and cap for one of them. It turned out very well, even if I do say so myself. The doll was named after me!

 
I really must describe some of my école maternelle students to you. Yes, the word is ‘my’. I’m teaching them English, believe it or not. Of course progress is slow, but then there’s no rush. I love doing it, but I wish I was able to sing. It’d make things a lot easier, especially as I’m trying to teach them ‘One Little, Two Little, Three Little Indians …’ at the moment. It’s harder for them to pick up the tune with the way I croak!

  Well, now, descriptions! Top of the list is the teacher’s little girl. Her name is Anne. She’s 2½, blonde hair, pale skin with freckles on her nose, small, plump, cuddly, gorgeous, and the kind of kid I’d like to have myself sometime. She’s always happy, or nearly always; she’s affectionate, clever, generous (she gives me a ‘bite’ of her bikkie every day!) and, as you’ve probably guessed, I’m nuts about her. So is everybody else. She spent about twenty minutes today chucking her teddy bear over the playground wall, while everybody fought for the honour of retrieving it and handing it back! She’s like one of those girls you see in the toddlers-kissing-each-other posters. Of course, she’s not perfect, but even when she thumps Thomas over the head he just laughs. If anybody else did that he’d scream for a week at least!

  Then there’s Marina, who’s five or six – a lovely blonde-haired kid. As a matter of fact, the majority of the kids are blonde-haired. Marina’s very clever, lazy and will be a leader some day.

  Carole, blonde-haired, brown-eyed, will be a stunner; as will Karen, whose description is the same. They’re very friendly, cheerful and well-behaved, gorgeous kids. I love them.

  Then comes Marie, who’s an absolute chatterbox and keeps giving me funny looks when I exclaim ‘quel dommage’, ‘horrible’, etc., in her few stops for breath. (There goes Anne chucking her poor bear over the wall again!) Aurélie, Melanie, Audrey, Laetitia, Grizalia, Caroline are some of the other girls.