The Lane

by Maura Rooney Hitzenbuhler

  Kate wondered how the cleaning women knew she was being offered the ticket-selling position before she got the job. She discovered that when they had found it was available, each of them in turn had passed it up with the suggestion that Kate be chosen. When she returned from Mr. Caulfield’s office to tell them the news, they had a surprise party awaiting her. Along with their mid-morning tea was a store-bought cake and individual tubs of ice cream from the cinema’s concession stand. They had obtained permission to purchase the ice cream while the stand was closed, when a film was not being shown.

  The cleaning women, whom Kate had grown very fond of, came to her booth to hand in their weekly movie passes in exchange for tickets. In the process, Kate met their husbands, children and sometimes their grandchildren. They kept her informed of all the happenings in their lives: a son imprisoned for stealing a car without knowing how to drive. He was fine; the car was not! Seven- and nine-year-old grandchildren who couldn’t be found long after their bedtime. The police being notified, and then the children wandered home after the greyhound races were over. Mishaps were told with great humor, as was gossip. Her new friends were concerned for Kate and looked forward to the arrival of her baby. They did not tell her, but knowing their betting habits, she knew that each of them, and most likely the men cleaners as well, would have placed bets on the day the baby would be born. This made Kate smile, and she wondered who would win the bet.

  Kate worked in the cinema until two days before her delivery.

  CHAPTER 4

  When the women of the lane became aware of her pregnancy, they stopped her to ask how she was feeling, spoke of the unborn baby, and offered advice, always addressing her as Mrs. Egan. They were curious as to where Francis had gone, and why he had left. But, of course, nobody would ask. They rightly assumed she was working and wrongly assumed she had an office job. They never asked about her family, and Kate did not offer any information. They slowly became her friends, and their friendship lightened her load.

  Passing by the Egan cottage early on a Saturday morning, Kathleen Purdy heard a low moan. She stopped, put her water pail down and listened. Mentally calculating the months, she thought, ‘No it can’t be her time. It’s too early.’ Then on hearing a muffled cry, Kathleen opened the cottage door and walked in calling out, “Mrs. Egan.”

  On hearing movement in the bedroom, Kathleen walked towards it and saw Kate in the process of delivering a child. “Good God,” Kathleen exclaimed, “I didn’t think you were ready. I’ll run up the lane and get Tara.” Before Kate could stop her, Kathleen was out the door and soon knocking on Tara Mulcahy’s door. Moments later the two women entered Kate’s cottage to find the child in bed with its mother.

  Tara had brought a kettle of boiling water that was meant for her husband’s breakfast. On seeing Kate and the newborn child nestled against her, Tara put down the kettle and hurried to the bedside.

  “The baby! It arrived without a pip out of you!” Tara exclaimed. Then picking up the infant she held it upside down, and it gave out a lusty cry. This sound brought smiles to the women’s faces. They examined him and declared him a beautiful, healthy boy.

  “Peg is the midwife, Mrs. Egan. However, Peg and her husband have gone to stay with their daughter and her family for the weekend to celebrate her grandson’s confirmation,” Kathleen explained.

  “We’ll manage,” Kate assured her.

  “This water is too hot to wash him?” Tara noted.

  “Take some of the cold water from the covered pot on the stove. It has been boiled.” Kate said. Then turning to Kathleen added, “If you’ll put some of the boiling water into the large dish on the table, I’ll drop in the scissors to sterilize them and cut the umbilical cord.”

  “Cut the cord!” Kathleen faintly repeated as she placed the scissors in a shallow dish and covered them with boiling water.

  “My name is Kate.”

  “I’m Tara, and this is Kathleen.”

  “Hand me the dish, Kathleen, and I’ll cut the cord.”

  When Kathleen had done as Kate asked, Kate with steady hands cut the cord and knotted it firmly close to the baby’s belly. Tara combined some hot and cold water, and taking the child, washed him and wrapped him in a large towel while Kathleen attended to Kate, removing all the blood-soaked newspapers Kate had earlier sterilized. She put them in a bag to be discarded and then helped wash the new mother.

  “When did your labor start?” Tara asked as she placed the infant in Kate’s arms.

  “About eleven o’clock last night.”

  “Why didn’t you call one of us last night? You shouldn’t have been alone at a time like this.”

  “We go through birth and death alone, even if surrounded by people.”

  “Well, you have a point there, Kate,” Tara agreed.” We’re alone in the sense that nobody can do it for us. I’ve never knotted an umbilical cord. Peg always took care of that. I was just her assistant. The last baby born in these cottages was the Walsh baby, and she is now nine years old. I’m certainly glad you were able to cut the cord.”

  “How do you know how to do all this?”

  “I’m a nurse.”

  “Aw,” both women smiled as they said, “A nurse!”

  “We certainly could use a nurse here in the lane,” Kathleen assured Kate.

  Hearing voices from the Egan cottage, other neighboring women came into the house. Tara addressed them. “Kate just gave birth to a beautiful baby boy. Kate, this is Sioban, Lil, Monica and Ruth. Ladies, meet Kate.”

  “Kate,” Siobhan smiled. “I wondered what you were called. We all did. We saw you coming and going but hadn’t the nerve to ask.”

  “Why not?”

  “Well, you’re kind of different.”

  “You’re a cut above us, is what Siobhan means.”

  “Lil, you’re making a hash of things. Many of us, Kate, haven’t gone beyond the eighth class and some of us only made it to the sixth class before leaving school. I began work in the jam factory when I was fourteen and worked there until I married,” Monica explained.

  “This is my home.”

  “That it is, Kate. You’re one of us, even more so now since your son has been born in the lane,” Ruth assured Kate. All expressed agreement.

  “Do you have a name for this fine young fellow?”

  “Yes, I’ll call him Eoin after my father. Eoin Francis,” Kate replied, rapidly choosing a name. Francis’ absence was the huge elephant in the room that all tried to ignore. What could she say? She did not care to enlighten these good people to her sorry state of affairs.

  Someone, that day several months ago, saw her run after Francis to plead with him not to leave. One person would have made it known to all. She hoped they wouldn’t think badly of Francis for leaving her. Would they treat her son differently if they knew the circumstances of his conception? They would be aghast, she believed, by her deception. Could she have revealed these hidden lies and continued to live in the lane? Sheila, the one person she could confide in was now living overseas.

  “Eoin Francis. That’s a fine name.”

  “Will you have him baptized in St. Patrick’s?”

  “No, I’ll have him baptized in the church in Swords where Francis and I were married,” Kate answered with a slight hesitation. The elephant was growing bigger and was consuming all the air in the room. For a few tense moments, silence prevailed.

  “Will Francis come home for the Baptism?” Tara ventured to ask.

  “No.”

  “Is it to England he has gone?”

  “Yes,” Kate answered, not knowing where he had gone. Another lie added to the heap.

  “Well, working his uncle’s farm was fine when there was just himself. Working that small farm wouldn’t support a wife and child. It’s just enough to give his aunt and uncle a modest living,” Sioban surmised.

  “Maybe he’ll return for the child’s first birthday,” Lil smiled.

  So that was the conclusion they had come to
. I wonder where in the world he is. I’m one of them now, a lane person, accepted, as is my son. Eoin will grow up in the same house as Francis had. Intentional or not, it was cruel of him to omit from his letter where he was going. Not intentional, she decided, partially because he was not a person given to cruelty, and partially because carelessness on his part was easier to deal with than intent. She had no way to contact him. Perhaps he will contact me when he is settled in a new job and has place to live. Would Francis return? What are his intentions? Not knowing made everything tentative.

  “I was wondering, do you need to borrow a pram, or might there be one in your family you wish to use?” Tara asked.

  This was the first time anyone in the lane mentioned the possibility that she might have a family. She’d like to say, ‘Oh yes, ladies, my brother has two young daughters who had a fine baby carriage, bought by my mother, but my son being born out of wedlock is hidden from them.’

  “No. I am without a pram.”

  “Well, my daughter has one you can borrow. I asked her ahead of time in the event that you might not have one.”

  “Thank you, and please thank your daughter for me.”

  “My son Terry and his wife had three boys, so if you wouldn’t mind having a crib that has had a bit of rough treatment, you’re very welcome to it. It is quite sturdy, which it would have to be to withstand those holy terrors.”

  “Thanks, Lil. Thank you all for all your kindness.” Kate looked around the room at each and every one of these good people. In silence they acknowledged her gratitude. A little awkward, they stood, unfamiliar with praise, yet proud to have been a part of this event. Then they smiled and hugged Kate and each other.

  “Welcome, baby Eoin. You have brought much joy into our lives,” Kathleen, speaking for all, stated.

  “Yes. Kate and this precious child are part of all our lives here in the lane,” Monica added.

  The room that had grown solemn became full of smiles, and those gathered were moved to tears, until Kathleen spoke.

  “How come you so conveniently had water boiling when I knocked at your door, Tara?”

  “That was for Frank’s tea.” Then remembering she added, “Good Lord, he hasn’t had a cup of tea yet!”

  “Well, surely he can make himself a cup of tea,” Ruth laughed.

  “Not without a tea kettle,” Kathleen joined in the laughter.

  “You go along and make him breakfast,” Kate urged.

  “Go ahead, Tara. I’ll make Kate some tea.”

  “Kate will need more than tea in order to feed that young fellow. I’ll be making stew today, and I’ll bring some over,” Tara said as she headed out the door with her tea kettle.

  “I’ll be cooking a ham for Sunday’s dinner, so I’ll bring some over tomorrow, with potatoes, parsnips and turnips,” Monica said.

  Ruth who had slipped out unnoticed by all, returned with a pail of water. She overheard Monica and asked if Kate liked shepherd’s pie. Then asked what days were covered.

  “You’ll be Monday,” Lil answered and set herself for Tuesday’s dinner. Kathleen took Wednesday and Friday and would cook fish on both days. Siobhan agreed to Thursday saying she wasn’t as good a cook as the other ladies but could manage to fry some lamb chops with chips.

  “I’m going to make a couple of poached eggs for Kate to have with her tea, and all you ladies must leave for now and let her get some sleep. She has had a long night,” Kathleen stated.

  “I’ll pop in tomorrow morning before going to the market to see what you need, Kate,” and having said that, Monica bid Kate good-bye.

  Each of the women took another look at the baby, agreed with each other that he was a most beautiful child, praised Kate for her good work, and left.

  Alone in the cottage, Kate looked at the child lying beside her and softly told him, “You’re your grandmother’s first grandson. You have two cousins, Deirdre who is two years old, and Nora four. One day I’m going to have to explain a lot of things to you but not until you are much older. Ned and Mary will be the first relatives you’ll be introduced to. Depending on the outcome, you will or will not have family close by. Well, Eoin, since you’ve closed your eyes and gone to sleep, I’ll assume you don’t wish to hear anymore about family ties at the moment.”

  She had told the women she would have her son baptized in the chapel wherein she and Francis had made their vows, ‘Love, honor and obey—in sickness, and in health as long as you both shall live.’ Nothing in that ceremony covered events that occurred before marriage.

  Lies. I am heartfelt sorry. What had Francis told Ned and Mary? Had he revealed all to them? Would she and the child be welcomed, or told never again to darken their doorstep? In a few weeks she would walk the five miles, with Eoin, from the bus stop to the farm. Then she would bring Eoin to the cinema and introduce him to the cleaning women, supplying the time and date of birth so that their bets could be honored.

  Closing her eyes, Kate, exhausted, fell asleep and dreamt. On a bright sunny day, Kate and Francis walked hand in hand along the Dodder River. They stopped and looked at the swans below gracefully gliding along.

  “Swans always seemed magical to me. Maybe it’s because I loved hearing my father read The Children of Lir and how his four children were turned into swans by their stepmother.”

  “Swans mate for life,” Francis told her.

  “Yes, so I’ve been told.”

  As she looked over the wall, Kate bent over to pick the wild-flowers growing on the riverside. She had picked just a few when she noticed a dark cloud suddenly sweep over the water. She shivered. Turning from the river, she sought Francis but instead another person stood where Francis had stood—a dark brooding figure whose face was partly turned from her and hidden by his wide upturned collar. Francis was nowhere in sight. Dismayed, she dropped the flowers. The man stooped to pick them up. Terror seized her. She tried to run but could not. Kate woke in panic. She was disoriented. A sudden, loud, frightened cry from Eoin brought her back in time and place.

  She wrapped the eiderdown from the bed around her as she walked over to Eoin, picked him up, held him to her breast and folded him into the eiderdown. Soon he stopped crying and went back to sleep. Sleep eluded Kate.

  Kate was anxious to know if she and Eoin would be welcomed at Ned and Mary’s home. In mid-November, when Eoin was three weeks old, they set out on their journey to Swords. After a fifteen-minute wait, they boarded a bus for the fifteen-minute ride into the city. They then waited forty minutes for the bus from the city to the farm. It was a cold windy day in spite of the bright sun. Eoin grew restless as they waited. Kate wheeled the pram one bus length, back and forth, until he fell asleep. As she walked, she wondered whether Ned and Mary would add to her skimpy knowledge of Francis’ whereabouts. She had not seen either of them since her wedding day. She would have liked to phone them before making this trip, but they had no telephone. Now that Eoin was asleep, she sat on the bench at the bus stop and opened her book: Joyce’s short story, The Dead, where Gretta, on hearing a song at a New Year’s Eve party she was attending with her husband, Gabriel, is brought back in time to the death of her first love. Her husband, seeing the love and longing in her eyes, misunderstands. Kate abruptly let go of Gabriel’s rejection and pain as the bus pulled up in front of them.

  After alighting from the bus in Swords, Kate looked around the town that she and Francis had passed through in happier times. Perhaps I have made a mistake in coming. If my own family would not accept this child, whatever made me believe Francis’ family would? Am I expecting too much from these two kind people? She wanted to get back on the return bus to the city, but scolded herself, ‘you have come all this way; finish the journey.’ And so, she took the road that led to the farm. What seemed like a short ride in the van proved to be a fifty-minute walk! They had left the lane shortly before nine that morning, and it would be close to one o’clock when they arrived at the farm. Eoin grew hungry and protested with a strong cry. Kate sat
by the side of this lonely road, leaned back into the blackberry bushes, and with the carriage blanket around both her and the child, she nursed him. When Eoin was satisfied, they resumed their journey.

  Coming out of the barn, Ned was the first to see them walk through the gate. He smiled at them in greeting, and coming forward, said, “It’s good to see you again, Kate. So this is the child?”

  “Yes, this is Eoin Francis.”

  “He’s a fine big fellow. It’ll be a few years yet before he’ll be riding a horse. Do you ride, Kate?”

  “Not for several years, but when growing up, I was never happier than on horseback.”

  “Then you must ride our horses, and Eoin, too, when he is ready,” Ned concluded. Remembering how anxious Mary was to see the child and its mother, he concluded, “I’ll be in a heap of trouble if Mary sees me out here delaying you from entering the house.” He called Mary’s name. She came out of the house drying her hands on her apron.

  “As I live and breathe, it’s you, Kate, and the baby!” Mary uttered in joy as she flung her hands upwards. On reaching Kate, she hugged her. “Come into the house before the wind blows us all away,” and she hastened them indoors. “Did you walk from the town?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh child, why didn’t you let us know? Ned could have picked you up at the bus stop.”

  “You don’t have a phone.”

  “The pub in town does! Kate, you can always leave a message there for us. Ned goes into town every morning with the milk churns. If you need to get in touch at any other time, don’t hesitate to call. Mr. Moore will send one of the lads out to the farm to deliver it. I’ll write down the number for you.”

  “We were fortunate. A few dark clouds gathered overhead, but it didn’t rain, and the sun soon came through.”

  Mary, looking down at the sleeping child, asked, “Is it a boy or girl?”