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  ‘Oh she’s in a huff as usual,’ Jennifer sighed.

  ‘What’s new?’ Beth retorted. ‘I know Kathy’s moody but Brenda’s ten times worse. When she’s having a row with you, she ignores me, as if I did anything on her,’ she added plaintively.

  ‘Don’t mind her.’ Jennifer snorted. ‘Wait until you see the two of them showing off just because they’re prefects.’

  ‘They just think they’re it. Thank God they’re going to secondary school after the holidays. At least they’ll be out of our hair.’ Beth scowled.

  A big crowd had gathered at the starting point of the procession. The army and police were there to escort the priests carrying the monstrance under the big canopy. The St John’s ambulance brigade, the Order of Malta, the girl guides and boy scouts in their uniforms all stood to attention waiting to move off. A priest gave instructions about the route from a car with a loudspeaker. And in front of all of this were the flower girls, ready to strew their petals on the ground in honour of Christ.

  Jennifer felt a tingle of excitement. She could see the road ahead lined on each side with people who were not walking in the procession. Many of the houses displayed colourful bunting flying decoratively in the breeze. Some had little altars in their windows with a picture or statue of the Sacred Heart surrounded by fresh flowers.

  ‘Get into your place quickly,’ Brenda ordered officiously. She had a little notebook in her hand and was ticking off the names of the arrivals.

  ‘Show-off,’ muttered Jennifer as she stepped into line. One of the teachers arrived and issued them with their instructions. They were to follow the teachers at the front, who would be following the car with the loudspeaker. The prefects would walk at the end of each line. There was to be no talking or laughing of any sort. They were to throw their petals on the ground in front of them and try and make them last until they got to St Pappin’s Church. The entire Holy Communion class were first, followed by the representatives of second, third, fourth, fifth and sixth classes. Turning around, Jennifer could see the famous Cora Delahunty behind her, dressed all in white with a veil so long it was almost tripping her up.

  ‘Look at Cora Delahunty,’ she whispered to Beth. ‘Does she think she’s getting married or what?’ It was ridiculous. Only the Holy Communion girls wore white dresses with their veils. Beth and Jennifer were both wearing their Sunday best topped off by their Holy Communion veils but of course Cora, being Cora, had to go the whole hog. Jennifer and Beth were fascinated by Cora, having heard great tales about her from Brenda and Kathy. She was definitely the most glamorous person in the school.

  ‘What are you gawking at?’ the most glamorous person in the school drawled.

  ‘Nothing much, it hasn’t got a label on it,’ Jennifer retorted, annoyed with herself for having been caught staring.

  ‘You’re Brenda Myles’s sister, aren’t you? She’s dead common too,’ Cora sneered.

  ‘It takes one to know one,’ Jennifer riposted, turning her back on the vision in white.

  ‘Sarky cow. She thinks she’s somebody, doesn’t she? You gave her her answer.’ Beth grinned. The next minute the pair of them nearly jumped out of their skins as the voice in the car with the loudspeaker boomed out the first line of the hymn Sweet Sacrament Divine. The procession began to move off down Ballymun Avenue and the voices of the people as they joined in the hymn could be heard in homes a mile away.

  Slowly, rhythmically, the girls began strewing their petals on the ground as they walked proudly at the head of the procession. After the first hymn, there was a decade of the Rosary. Jennifer much preferred the hymns, she decided as she sprinkled a handful of rose petals on the ground. They were beautiful petals. Soft, scented petals of every hue and colour. She and Beth had gone to all their neighbours asking for contributions to the petal basket. They’d gone down to the Rose Garden in the Botanic Gardens and asked the gardener if they could have any petals on the ground. They’d told him what it was for and he’d been more than agreeable. They’d got loads of petals. Her dad had taken them for a spin in the country and they’d gathered lovely scented apple blossom petals as well. Their teacher was very pleased with their hard work and had commended them in front of the whole class.

  After two hymns and three decades of the Rosary they left the houses and were on the winding road up to St Pappin’s. It was a while since she’d been along this road. Jennifer reflected, as she heard a cow lowing in one of the fields. None of them went to St Pappin’s School any more. They no longer had to get the Lea’s Cross bus to the little country school. A brand-new school had been built for them at the end of Ballymun Avenue, called Our Lady of Victories. It had big bright classrooms with huge blackboards. And Venetian blinds on the windows. It was Jennifer’s job to open the blinds in the morning and she relished it. She loved twirling the little baton around to open and close them. At midday when the sun streamed right in on top of them, it was her job to close them. It was Beth’s job to clean the blackboard. They no longer sat at wooden desks, they had tables. Jennifer missed the wooden desks with their little inkwells in the middle and the groove that ran along the top for them to put their pens in. They didn’t use pens with nibs on them any more either. She’d always liked dipping her pen into the inkwell and making large neat letters in her copy with the red and blue lines when they had been learning how to write. Now they just had ordinary copies.

  Walking along the country road brought back memories. Her favourite time had been picking blackberries in the autumn or having snow fights in the winter when the snow was crisp and deep on the roads and footpaths. Now it only took her ten minutes to get to school. She didn’t have to get a bus any more and couldn’t save a ha’penny on her bus fare by racing to the stop at the end of Ballymun Avenue, instead of the stop up by the shops.

  A hysterical screech jerked her out of her daydream. She turned to look in the direction of the commotion. Cora, lepping around like a mad woman, was being chased by a bee. Of course, in an effort to outdo everybody else, she had, at the start of the procession, sprinkled her basket of petals (a basket twice as large as everybody else’s) with lavender water perfume. Now she was paying the price for the sickly sweet scent.

  ‘Get it away from me! Get it away from me!’ she squealed, barging through the girls in front in an effort to shake off her pursuer.

  ‘Be quiet! Be quiet, you silly girl,’ one of the teachers thundered, grabbing the yelling Cora by the arm.

  ‘I’m being attacked by a swarm of bees,’ Cora bawled. This was a slight exaggeration. Another bee had indeed joined his comrade, attracted by the heavenly scent of lavender, but a swarm was a bit of an overstatement.

  ‘I’ve been stung,’ she yelled as a bee landed on her arm. She tore herself from the teacher’s grasp and made another run for it.

  This naturally caused consternation in the ranks and white-veiled girls hopped and screeched with abandon, much to the fury of their teachers.

  ‘Stop that nonsense this minute, Cora Delahunty, and the rest of you. Making a disgrace of the school. Have some reverence,’ commanded the teacher. Cora was oblivious to her. In her blind panic, she tripped over her veil and sprawled in their midst, her petals scattering to the four winds.

  Sobbing dramatically, she was led from the procession, her white dress covered in dust. Snorting and sniggering, the rest of them regrouped and began to walk again, to the great relief of the holders of the canopy, who at this stage were almost on top of the leading group. They were having a hard job keeping straight faces. Jennifer caught Beth’s eye and, in spite of themselves, they burst into giggles. Their teacher cast them a look that would have intimidated the Pope and Brenda hissed, ‘Shut up, you two.’ It was with considerable difficulty that they composed themselves. Every so often they’d remember Cora’s spectacular retirement from the procession and they’d start tittering again.

  ‘Making a show of us, Mammy, she was,’ complained Brenda to her mother later that evening. ‘The teacher told he
r to stop laughing three times. I was mortified.’

  ‘I couldn’t help it, Brenda. Every time I thought about it, it was funny. And you’re just an old tattle-tale anyway,’ she burst out, hurt by her sister’s disloyalty.

  ‘Stop that, Jennifer,’ her mother ordered. ‘You shouldn’t have been tittering and giggling when you were leading the procession. It’s just as well I didn’t see you or you’d have got a right telling-off from me.’

  ‘It’s not fair, Mammy. I wasn’t laughing on purpose and she’s always telling on me and I never tell on her!’ Jennifer was outraged at her mother’s rebuke.

  ‘That’s because there’s nothing to tell,’ Brenda retorted smugly.

  ‘There is so! There’s loads to tell!’ Jennifer yelled petulantly. Brenda paled slightly. ‘Beth caught you and Kathy taking a sip out of her granny’s sherry bottle, Miss Brenda Myles, so there, and I never told on you,’ she shot back furiously. Their mother nearly had a seizure.

  ‘Brenda Myles, is this the truth?’ She was horrified.

  ‘Don’t mind her, she’s telling lies,’ Brenda exclaimed.

  ‘I am not,’ Jennifer said sourly. She knew she’d really done it now. There’d be ructions.

  ‘Have you broken your Confirmation pledge, Miss?’

  Brenda stayed mute, casting daggers looks at her sister. Jennifer began to feel very sorry that she’d opened her mouth. That was a serious tale that she had tattled but it just burst out of her, she’d been so annoyed by her elder sister’s ratting on her about laughing in the procession. It wasn’t as if she had laughed deliberately. Everyone else was laughing too, she thought miserably. But breaking the Confirmation pledge not to drink until you were twenty-one, that was serious. Her sister was in deep trouble.

  ‘Brenda, I’m speaking to you,’ her mother said angrily.

  ‘We were just having a sniff of it,’ she argued.

  ‘Yes, they were just having a sniff, I think,’ Jennifer echoed quickly, anxious to undo the damage.

  ‘Don’t tell me fibs, the pair of you. I’m going straight down to Mrs Cleary immediately to get to the bottom of this.’ Kit was hopping mad. ‘Stay here both of you until I get back and don’t budge.’

  ‘Now see what you’ve done, you little wagon. Kathy will never speak to me again for getting her into trouble. And Da will murder me if he finds out,’ Brenda shrieked.

  ‘Well I didn’t mean to. It was all your fault anyway. You had to open your big mouth about me laughing at the procession. Didn’t you?’ Jennifer yelled back. ‘You’re always the same. Always trying to get me into trouble. I wish I didn’t have you for an older sister. Kathy Cleary is much nicer to Beth than you are to me. She always shares her clothes and her comics with her. You never do.’ Jennifer was distraught.

  ‘If I get into serious trouble over this I’ll never speak to you again.’ Brenda burst into tears, marched upstairs and slammed the door of the bedroom. Jennifer burst into tears herself. She hadn’t meant to get Brenda and Kathy into trouble. But it looked as if they were for it.

  Kit came back ten minutes later looking grim. ‘Tell your sister I want her,’ she instructed Jennifer.

  Jennifer raced up the stairs. Her heart was pounding. If Kit decided to tell their father there would be a dreadful row. Why, oh why, had she opened her big mouth? She’d just have to learn to control that temper of hers. ‘You’re wanted,’ she said breathlessly. Brenda cast her a filthy look and followed her out of the room.

  ‘I’ll say nothing to your father this time, Brenda, but if I ever hear of anything like this again you are in serious trouble, madam. You are not to touch alcohol. Do you hear me? You make sure you tell this in Confession and go and take the pledge again. Now get to bed, the pair of you.’ Their mother was highly annoyed.

  ‘Sorry,’ murmured Jennifer as she undressed for bed. Her apology was ignored. Jennifer, in all honesty, could not blame Brenda. It had been a terrible thing to rat about. There’d be a mega-huff for the next few days, but it would all blow over, she hoped. Her father hadn’t been told and that was good.

  Jennifer lay in bed casting her mind back over the events of the day. One thing though, she smiled to herself under the covers remembering Cora, it had certainly been the best procession ever.

  Chapter Thirteen

  It was great going back to secondary school, Brenda reflected as she stood at the No. 13 bus terminus with Kathy. There were loads of students at the bus stop gabbing nineteen to the dozen. There were girls from the Holy Faith in their navy uniforms, girls from Eccles Street in their maroon and cream, and girls from St Theresa’s, her own school, in their green and white. There were fellas from Vincent’s and Belvedere and there was a lot of good-natured jeering and slagging between them all. Brenda loved being in the thick of it.

  She had been so bored at home that summer. All she seemed to do was housework, or read, or watch TV. At night she and Kathy went over to the big green to meet up with the rest of the gang and sneak the odd fag and have a laugh with the fellas. But she always had to be in by nine-thirty. Her father was very strict like that. It was embarrassing having to slip away from the crowd. Even Kathy was allowed to stay out until ten. Which seemed much more grown-up.

  Brenda and her da were constantly fighting about it. Sometimes she just hated him. Even her mother thought he was being too strict and once there’d been a huge row when Kit accused her husband of being as bad as his father. Her da hadn’t spoken to Brenda for weeks after it. Blaming it all on her. Having a strict father was the worst thing in the world. How was she ever going to be allowed to go to dances when she was older? Brenda could see stormy times ahead, that was for sure.

  She saw Eddie Fagan smiling at her. Brenda smiled back. She liked Eddie and she knew he liked her too. He often gave her a cigarette when they were all together on The Green. He was talking to his mates but he kept looking over at her and smiling at her every so often. She could feel herself going scarlet.

  ‘He fancies you, Bren, I’m telling you,’ Kathy giggled. She was conducting a flirtation with Kenny Lyons, who was Eddie’s mate.

  ‘I’d love to get off with him, I really fancy him too,’ Brenda sighed as the object of her affections said hello to one of the girls from Eccles Street and started chatting her up. Brenda’s heart sank to her boots. She knew the girl by sight and she was very pretty. There was no way Eddie would give her a second glance now.

  She saw Marty Hayes arrive on the scene and caught his eye and waved. Marty arrived over, and Brenda immediately engaged him in vivacious conversation, keeping half an eye on Eddie all the while. The bus arrived and there was a mad scramble upstairs to get the front seats.

  To her great dismay Eddie and the pretty girl went down to the back and so she and Kathy sat up in the front. They wouldn’t turn around because that would be far too obvious. Fortunately Marty came and plonked himself in the seat behind them so Brenda had an excuse to turn and talk to him and was able to observe the pair at the back. It looked as if they were getting on like a house on fire. Completely disheartened, she left Kathy to chat with Marty and stared out the window with mounting gloom.

  It was a lovely warm sunny September day. The Green, empty of people, looked like a huge emerald carpet right in the middle of the square of houses. At the opposite end of The Green, with the Dublin mountains behind them in the distance, were the maisonettes. On two sides of the big wide grassy rectangle ran streets of terraced houses. They were nice houses, Brenda mused, catching sight of her own yellow front door as the bus curved around the terminus end of The Green and on to St Pappin’s Road. The painters had just painted their front door two days previously and they were working on some of the others. She could see one of them, in his bright white overalls, kneeling down at Kathy’s door, which was two doors away from hers.

  She saw her own brother Sean out on the footpath playing hopscotch with Gerard. They didn’t have to go to school for another three-quarters of an hour and their school, the Sacred Heart,
was only five minutes across The Green. No doubt her mother would be washing up after the breakfast before going upstairs to make the beds. She wouldn’t have Brenda to help her today. Making the beds was a chore she hated. There were five beds to be made in the Myles household. Her parents’ double bed, her and Jennifer’s divans and the boys’ bunks. Still, that wasn’t bad compared to Kathy’s. There were six children, two parents and a granny living in her best friend’s house. They had had to turn their dining-room into a bedroom for their granny. Before she’d come to live with them, Kathy and Brenda usually went into the dining-room when they wanted a bit of privacy. But now there was nowhere private in her friend’s house. Kathy came down to Brenda’s house now. Mind, there wasn’t always privacy there either. Jennifer was usually playing one of her ridiculous games such as ‘Office’ or ‘Emergency Ward 10.’ She’d have a face on her then and there’d often be a row. Kit would get narky and start yelling and it could be a bit mortifying in front of Kathy. Honestly, it was extremely irritating having a nuisance of a younger sister who was only ten. You’d think Jenny would have a bit of respect for her older sister. After all, Brenda was a teenager, fourteen, and a third year student at that!

  It was great to be a third year, she mused as the bus swung right onto the Ballymun Road. She wasn’t a junior any more. All the new intake would be feeling nervous and apprehensive, just as she’d been on her first day in St Theresa’s this time last year. She’d even worn her beret. Imagine! She’d felt a right prat. When she saw that no-one else was wearing theirs, she’d whipped it off her head and rolled it up in her bag, where it had stayed for the rest of term.

  The mountains were really clear, she noted as the bus stopped to take on more passengers. You could see all the different colours. The greens and golds and purples and browns. From her eyrie on the top deck of the No. 13 she could see the rooftops of the city below her in the distance. It was a view that always gave Brenda a buzz. She loved the city. The nearer the bus got to the city centre the more she liked it. She and Kathy often went into town at lunch-time. Brenda loved window-shopping and browsing. She’d spend all day in town if she could. She loved the crowds, and the air of hustle and bustle and the sense of excitement that was part and parcel of city life.