Music from Home

by Geraldine O'Neill

  At one point, the woman caught her eye and smiled and Maria gave an embarrassed smile back. The church was only half-full when Father O’Donnell came on the altar, although, as usual, a few others crept in a bit later when he had his back to the congregation. Then an elderly lady came slowly up the aisle and stopped at the empty pew in front of Maria. She hesitated for a few moments, as though not sure it was where she wanted to sit, then she eventually moved in and sat down around a little to the left of Maria.

  When the priest came on the altar the congregation all stood for the opening prayers. Then, after they were finished, and everyone went to kneel, Maria noticed the old lady in front struggling to kneel down. After a few attempts, she gave up, perching uncomfortably on the edge of the hard wooden seat.

  Most weeks, Maria found it difficult not to let her attention stray, and this morning she found it harder than usual. Her mind kept flitting back to the night before in the Palace Hotel with Paul. Although she had felt out of her depths at certain times, she had really enjoyed it. She was pleased that they seemed to have so much in common, and that Paul felt the same way as she did about a lot of things. It was also reassuring, she thought, that her father wasn’t the only man she knew who took things to heart. And yet, like her father, Paul had a sense of humour about things. She liked the way he always caught her eye when something funny happened and just raised his eyebrows.

  She was jolted back to the Mass when everyone stood up for the Creed, and it was then that she noticed the old lady in front struggling to stand. She watched her now, putting both hands on the back of the pew in front and trying to lever herself up. She managed to get to her feet at one point, but after a moment or so, she very slowly sank back down into the seat again.

  Maria wondered if she should offer to help, but it was rare in church that people spoke. She didn’t want to draw attention to either herself or the poor lady who might be embarrassed and perhaps not want her help. Maria could quite clearly remember an occasion a few years ago when her father went to help an old woman across the road who seemed to be struggling. When he put his hand on her arm, the old woman had shouted out loud that he should keep his hands to himself and then hit him with her stick. Even though they discovered later that the poor woman wasn’t quite right in the head, and there were some funny elements to the incident, it had stayed with Maria and made her think twice before rushing to the aid of anyone else.

  When Communion time came and Maria moved out into the aisle to join the queue to receive the Holy Eucharist, she noticed that the old lady didn’t attempt to move from her place, and stayed sitting with her head bowed. The elegantly dressed woman at the end of the pew came out into the aisle behind Maria, and Maria could tell that she too was looking at the old woman with some concern.

  When Communion was over, Maria thoughts drifted back to the night before and she was only jolted out of it when everyone stood up as the priest started saying the closing prayers. She quickly moved to her feet and joined in the responses once again. The priest had barely left the altar and Maria was just lifting her bag off the seat when the woman in the black-and-white coat came purposefully towards Maria’s end of the row. Maria was just going to step into the aisle to let her out when the woman came to a standstill behind the old lady

  “Mrs Flynn?” she said. “Are you all right?”

  The older woman looked over her shoulder to see who was talking to her and obviously recognised the well-dressed woman. She shook her head. “Oh . . . I’m not too grand.” Although her voice was quiet, the accent was unmistakably Irish. “I had a bit of a fall coming into the church, and I’ve not felt right since. I felt sort of dizzy so I thought I’d better not go out to Communion.”

  Maria felt a hand touch her arm, and when she turned around she saw their housekeeper smiling at her.

  Mrs Lowry whispered, “I was sitting across the aisle and down a bit from you. I was just watching you to catch your attention, and then I saw Mrs Flynn coming in and I noticed that she didn’t seem too well.”

  “I fell at the church gate,” the old woman explained again to Mrs Lowry. “I think I must have slipped on a bit of ice.”

  “Where did you hurt yourself?”

  “I don’t rightly know . . . but it hurts when I move. I think it might be my hip or something like that, and I feel a bit light-headed.”

  “Do you think you can stand?” the smartly dressed lady asked.

  “Well,” Mrs Flynn said, giving an anxious smile, “we’ll soon know . . .” She made to move out of her seat, but as soon as she put her weight on her legs, a flash of pain crossed her face. “Ah no . . . no!”

  Mrs Lowry moved into the pew beside the old lady now, and the younger woman followed. They each took an arm, and between them they eased her back down into the seat.

  “It’s got worse,” Mrs Flynn said in a wavering voice. “I don’t think I can walk at all now.”

  “You just sit there,” the younger woman said kindly, “and we’ll find a way to move you without hurting you.” She looked at Mrs Lowry. “Would you mind staying with her for a few minutes and I’ll go into the vestry and let the priest know.”

  “Oh, we can’t go bothering the priest!” Mrs Flynn said.

  “Don’t worry about that, he’s nice,” Maria said. “He’ll just be worried about you.” She looked at the well-dressed woman and whispered, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  She smiled warmly at Maria and said in a low voice. “Just keep chatting to her and it might keep her mind off the pain.” Then she set off towards the vestry, her heels tapping on the mosaic tiles.

  The elderly woman suddenly got agitated. “What’s going to happen now? “

  “They might have to take you to the hospital,” Mrs Lowry said. “You might need a bit of a check-over.”

  “But what about my dog? I can’t leave her at the house on her own all day.”

  “Don’t worry,” Maria said. “If you’re not well, somebody will do it for you.”

  “But who?” Mrs Flynn said. “My neighbours aren’t the kind you could ask and poor Poppy will wonder where I am and she’ll need feeding as well.”

  “You live in Heaton Chapel, don’t you?” Mrs Lowry asked.

  “Yes, on Range Road. It’s not that far from here.”

  “Well, don’t you worry,” Mrs Lowry said. “If you do have to go to the hospital, one of us will look after your dog.”

  “I love dogs,” Maria said. “Is she friendly?”

  The old lady nodded. “She’s a lovely little thing. A Shih Tzu called Poppy. She wouldn’t harm a fly.”

  Maria smiled. “One of my friends has that breed, and they are really friendly.”

  “She’s the best company you could have,” Mrs Flynn said. “She’s that clever she could nearly talk to you.”

  “How is your hip now?” Mrs Lowry said.

  “It’s all right, as long as I don’t move. It’s my head that’s the worst. It feels like it’s spinning around.”

  Mrs Lowry looked over the old lady’s head at Maria and pulled a face as though she were worried. Then they heard voices and footsteps and they saw Father O’Donnell and the woman coming back out of the vestry.

  After talking to Mrs Flynn for a while and patting her hand, Father O’Donnell told her that he had phoned for an ambulance to take her to Stockport Infirmary to get checked over.

  “Oh, no!” Mrs Flynn’s face crumpled at the news. “Not the hospital!”

  “Don’t go upsetting yourself. I’m sure everything will be just fine.” He gave her a reassuring smile. “Have you any family you’d like me to phone? Maybe somebody to go in the ambulance with you?”

  “My daughter is in Wythenshawe,” she explained, “and she works Sunday mornings in a paper shop so she’ll be busy, and my son is married with a family down in London. I have a sister here in Heaton Moor, but she’s not too great herself.”

  “That’s right,” he said, remembering. “I take Communion out to her
every month.”

  The young lady said, “A neighbour or a friend maybe?”

  She shook her head. “Not on a Sunday morning. I wouldn’t like to ask . . . I’ll be grand on my own.”

  As she listened to the old lady trying so hard to be independent, it became clear to Maria that she actually had no one available to come and look after her. “I’ll come in the ambulance with you,” she offered.

  Mrs Lowry’s eyebrows shot up and before Mrs Flynn could reply she said, “No, no. It’s very good of you, but you’re too young, Maria. I’ll go with her.”

  Maria felt slightly stung by the remark about her age but she said nothing. She knew the housekeeper meant no harm.

  Mrs Lowry put her hand on Mrs Flynn’s shoulder. “I just need to let them know back home, make a phone call. You see, I have a crowd coming for Sunday dinner later on and somebody will need to put the joint in the oven for me. I can see to the vegetables later.”

  “I could go,” the nicely dressed lady said. “You sound busy at home and I’ve absolutely nothing on this morning, so it’s no problem for me.”

  “Are you sure?” Mrs Lowry checked.

  “I don’t want to put anyone to any trouble,” the elderly woman said.

  “It’s no problem, Mrs Flynn,” the woman said smiling. “Honestly, I can go with you.”

  The priest rubbed his hands together. “Well, that’s sorted that.”

  “What about poor Poppy?” Mrs Flynn said, her eyes filling up now. “She’ll be wanting out to do her business soon.”

  Maria suddenly saw her chance to be helpful. “Do you want me to look after the dog?” she asked. “If you don’t mind giving me your address and your key, I can see to her. In fact, I can keep her until we know you are okay. I love dogs and so does my dad, so he won’t mind.”

  “Oh, that would be a weight off my mind if you could. She’s tiny and no trouble and she loves company. She has tins of food and her lead and brushes and everything there in the kitchen on the shelf.”

  “I’ll collect her now on my way home.”

  Tears came into the old woman’s eyes. “Oh, thanks be to God! You’re a little angel!” She looked up at the two women. “I feel much better now that I know Poppy will be looked after. And she’ll love having a young girl that has the energy to play with her.”

  The priest asked Maria if she had a phone number and, when she nodded, he said, “Maybe if you give Mrs Flynn your phone number, she could ring you when she gets home from the hospital and you could bring the dog back to her house?”

  Maria smiled at him. “No problem.”

  “I have a pen and a bit of paper here,” Mrs Lowry said, rummaging in her bag.

  A siren sounded outside. The priest looked at the women. “I think that’s the ambulance.”

  “Oh, no!” Mrs Flynn said, closing her eyes and shaking her head.

  “I’ll walk out and meet them,” said the priest.

  Maria quickly wrote down her address and phone number on the piece of paper and put it in the old lady’s handbag.

  There was a noise at the back of the church and then the ambulance men came in, carrying a stretcher between them. Within minutes, they had Mrs Flynn all settled and strapped on the bench in the ambulance. The other woman climbed in and sat opposite her. Mrs Lowry went up the steps and said a few words to her and when she came out Maria went in.

  She bent down to the old lady and gently touched her hand. “You just get better and don’t worry about your little dog. I’ll look after her well.”

  “Most people haven’t a kind word for youngsters these days,” Mrs Flynn said, “but you’re one of the good ones, and I didn’t even get your name.”

  “It’s Maria,” she said.

  “Well, Maria,” Mrs Flynn said, “you’re a credit to your mother and father, and they should be very proud of you.”

  “They should indeed,” the other woman said. “If all the other youngsters were like you, the world would be a different place.”

  Maria caught her breath as she often did when people assumed she had two parents. But, she had learned by now it only embarrassed them to explain her mother was dead, so she just smiled and thanked them.

  She came out of the ambulance and went to stand with Mrs Lowry while the men closed and bolted the doors. They both stood in silence until it went off, then they started walking down the road together.

  “It’s true,” Mrs Lowry said, “what Mrs Flynn and the other one said about you being a good girl. And you made no issue of them thinking your mother was at home. A lot of girls your age would be all dramatic about it, but you’ve never been like that.”

  “Thanks,” Maria said quietly.

  “And although I know it’s not easy for you at times, at least you know Leo has always done his best. He might take the odd drink too many, but he always makes sure you’re looked after, and he does no one any harm.”

  For a moment, Maria wondered if she should confide in the housekeeper. Not to criticise her father, more explain she was worried about him. But something held her back. Her sense of responsibility and loyalty, and her appreciation of his love and dedication towards her, was too great.

  She could not bring him down to someone else, not even their trusted housekeeper.

  Chapter 17

  Poppy was a sturdy little dog, with gold and white hair clipped short. She had barked ferociously when the key was put in the door of the two-up, two-down terraced house, making Maria very wary and wondering if she had made a mistake. But, when she opened the letterbox carefully and spoke softly to her, she could see the dog’s tail wagging. She kept talking to her for a few minutes and, when the dog seemed to calm down, she decided to chance it and go in.

  The dog jumped up and down for a few more minutes but, when Maria patted and stroked her, she eventually settled down.

  Maria glanced around the small hallway and then went into the sitting room, which she thought was typical of an old lady’s house, very tidy with only the necessary three-piece suite and a small coffee table and a television.

  She went into the kitchen, Poppy at her heels, and saw the dog’s basket on the floor with some toys in it, her food and water bowls nearby, and her food, lead and brushes on a shelf above. She found a shopping bag and put all the dog’s requirements in it. The basket would have been awkward to carry so she just took the small cushion and blanket out of it and put them in the bag along with the other items.

  She led Poppy outside and checked the house was safely locked. Then she walked back home to Heaton Moor, Poppy trotting happily beside her.

  Her father was upstairs in the bathroom when she got home, so she called up to him. “We have a visitor!”

  When he came downstairs into the sitting room, Poppy started barking again and jumping backwards as she did so.

  “Good God!” he said, looking from the barking dog to Maria. “What’s all this?”

  “We’re looking after her,” Maria said.

  When the dog had quietened down and was busy sniffing at Leo’s feet, she went on to explain about going to early Mass and Mrs Flynn, and all that had happened.

  “And all this while I was peacefully sleeping!” he said, smiling at her. “From the way you describe Mrs Flynn, I don’t think I know her . . . It was good of you to help her, Maria.” He looked at the dog, which had gone over to lie by the fire. “Do you think you can manage?”

  She told him that she had everything Poppy needed and she would let her out into the garden to do her business and take her for a walk when she came in from school.

  “Well,” he said, “in that case, I think it sounds as though we have got ourselves a little hairy friend for the moment.”

  Poppy took up residence with the Contis for over a month, during which time both Maria and her father got into a routine. In the mornings Leo took Poppy for a long walk and a run around the local park, and when he came back he fed her, and then Maria took her for another walk as soon as she came in from school
. As the weeks went past, the weather softened and Maria began to really enjoy her daily walks with Poppy and looked forward to seeing her every evening when she came back to the house.

  Then, all of a sudden spring was there, and cheery yellow-and-white daffodils and purple crocuses seemed to be everywhere. Michael Lowry was back in the garden, digging out dead bulbs and planting new seedlings, while Mrs Lowry kept reminding Maria, “Cast not a clout till May be out!”, as she did every year, and saying more people caught flus and colds going into their summer things at the first sign of a spring sun.

  On one of the first fine Saturdays, Leo drove Maria out to the stables to see the filly of whom he had such high hopes. Bella Maria was a beautiful, strong-looking animal, and Maria was relieved when the trainer and the other stable staff she met echoed her father’s belief in the horse’s wonderful abilities.

  Not only had the weather changed, the pattern of Maria’s weeks had also changed over the last few months. After discussions with her father, she had taken a long break from her ballet classes, explaining that she needed her evenings and weekends to study for her exams. The teacher was fine about it, and Maria said that she would probably be back in September, as fifth year was an easier one in school with no major exams. After the first few weeks of feeling strangely free on her usual ballet nights, she was surprised to find that, after all the years of attending the classes, that she didn’t miss it one little bit.

  Stella had complained bitterly about not having her company travelling, and leaving her on her own at the dance school. “It’s awful, I’ve nobody to talk to at the ballet class and I’m stuck in the car with my mother coming and going. It’s absolutely boring, boring, boring and awful!”

  “But the other girls are very nice,” Maria had pointed out. “You said you liked them, and we’ve often gone shopping with them and stayed at some of their houses.”