With All My Love Read online

  ‘I’m going to buy you some nice sheets and pillowcases, and some towels, and you can take some of those mugs and that matching jug and sugar bowl set that your aunt Alice gave me last Christmas,’ Carmel had offered.

  ‘Thanks, Mam, you’re the best.’ Valerie had hugged her, before getting a map of the city and putting it on the kitchen table, where they pored over it, looking for Aungier Street.

  ‘What are you two looking for? Where’s my dinner?’ Terence came in from work and stood staring at them, disgruntled that the table wasn’t set and his dinner wasn’t ready for him.

  ‘It’s a casserole. I’ll dish it out now,’ Carmel retorted.

  Valerie started folding the map.

  ‘What are you looking for that’s so important?’ He’d slumped down on a chair.

  Valerie had glanced at her mother and taken a deep breath. She had imagined this moment many times, and now that it was finally here all the eloquent speeches she’d composed about gaining her freedom and no longer being under his dominion, and particularly about her lack of respect for him because of his absolute lack of respect for her, and his total failure as a parent, evaporated. ‘I’m moving up to Dublin. I transferred to the Corporation,’ she said coldly.

  ‘You could have moved up to Dublin and gone to college and made something of your life.’ He scowled at her.

  ‘Oh, I will make something of my life, don’t you worry.’ She recovered some of her brio. ‘Lizzie and I are going to study for an Arts degree at UCD at night, when we have the money saved for it.’

  ‘Another hot thing, that Lizzie one. I’ll believe it when I see it,’ he’d said derisively and stuck his head in the newspaper he’d pulled out of his jacket pocket. That was the last time he referred to her moving away from home. When she actually moved to Dublin two weeks later, having found a flat that suited her and Lizzie perfectly the previous weekend, Terence had gone to do his Meals on Wheels stint long before she finally climbed into the Mini, the little car bursting at the seams with bulging black bags of clothes and boxes of books, tapes and personal belongings, which Jeff had helped her to pack. He was travelling back to Dublin with her to help her move in. But the fizz of excitement went flat when she saw Carmel standing in the doorway waving at her as she started the engine. She’d waved back but the lump in her throat nearly choked her, and her eyes were blurry with tears as she drove out of Rockland’s. What had Carmel to look forward to? A tedious existence living with a husband she didn’t want to be with. At least Valerie had her life ahead of her.

  ‘You’ll be able to come back to visit; it’s only an hour away,’ Jeff had said comfortingly, remembering his own mixed emotions when he had left home to go to college.

  ‘I know, I just hate leaving Mam. I won’t ever be going back to live there and she knows it,’ Valerie sniffed.

  ‘Um,’ he murmured, and she figured he didn’t know what else to say and that her tears were making him feel uncomfortable.

  ‘Sorry.’ She swallowed.

  ‘It could be worse, you could be emigrating or something,’ he had said awkwardly.

  ‘Yeah,’ she’d agreed. It was true she was only an hour away. As they drove along the N11, playing Queen on her tape deck, her anticipation kicked back in. When she pulled up outside their new flat and saw Lizzie waving excitedly out of the top window, she waved back, grinning broadly. This was going to be fun, she knew it was. She had left childhood back in Rockland’s, now she was going to spread her wings and fly high.

  She had taken like a duck to water to living in the city and had settled into her new job relatively quickly, much more confident in her abilities than when she had first started working. She and Lizzie had decided to make a day of it when the date of the Royal Wedding had been announced and had taken leave. They were bunkering in with plenty of supplies to enjoy the royal pageant, and the smell of sizzling rashers and sausages was making her mouth water.

  Valerie sighed happily as she turned on the TV and saw the crowds of well-wishers outside Buckingham Palace waiting for Lady Diana to emerge from her state carriage.

  ‘I’m dying to see the dress.’ Lizzie arrived in from the small kitchen with a mug of tea and a plate of crispy fried white pudding. ‘Starters,’ she grinned before hurrying back to the pan.

  Valerie munched on the tasty fare. She and Lizzie had been out drinking with Jeff and some of his classmates in the Bolton Horse the night before, and she was feeling a bit under the weather. A fry-up was just the antidote she needed.

  ‘Hurry,’ she called. ‘The guests are arriving at St Paul’s.’

  ‘Coming,’ yelled Lizzie, hurrying in a minute later with a plate piled high with bacon and sausage butties slathered with tomato ketchup.

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  ‘Imagine wearing white to a wedding! Is that not considered a fashion fax pas?’ Valerie commented noticing how many of the guests were wearing white. ‘Oh look there’s the First Lady,’ she added as a reed-thin Nancy Reagan made a gracious entrance.

  ‘It’s a long time since she was a virgin bride! Look, she can hardly smile her face has been lifted so much; she’s like a waxworks model.’ Lizzie curled up on the sofa and bit into a sandwich.

  ‘Princess Grace’s hat is going to block the view of half the congregation. I’d hate to be stuck behind her.’

  ‘Good God, look at that one in the green, it’s hideous!’

  ‘Oh! Here come the real Royals! Oh, wow, Anne’s a bit floral.’

  ‘Oh, the Queen’s lovely! Isn’t this the life, Valerie?’ Lizzie grinned over at her and Valerie thought how lucky she was to have such a great friend. They sat companionably enjoying the spectacle, interjecting comments and both exclaimed in dismay when Diana emerged from her coach.

  ‘Oh, no, it’s all creased!’

  The Emanuels fussed about the bride, and the creation there had been so much speculation about.

  ‘Don’t like those mutton sleeves. I hope her dad makes it up the aisle OK. It’s an awful long walk,’ Lizzie observed as Earl Spencer, resplendent in tails, took his daughter’s arm to begin the walk along the nave, and Valerie went to the kitchen to refill their mugs.

  A thought struck her: if she were getting married to Jeff, her father would have to walk her up the aisle! That would ruin her wedding day, she thought, horrified. Imagine having to paste a smile on her face and pretend to be enjoying the farce of having Terence give her away. And that was another thing that irritated her – the ‘giving away’, as though the bride were a chattel. Until she had left home her father had always thought he had complete authority over her, but not any more. She was her own woman now, and if she didn’t want to be ‘given away’ by her father she didn’t have to be. Valerie banished the thought and hurried back with their steaming mugs to drink in the joyful pageant that was the Royal Wedding.

  Several thoroughly enjoyable hours later, showered and dolled up, they made their way into town. Valerie was going to meet Jeff for a drink in the Parnell Mooney. He was working on his dad’s fishing boat for the summer and was coming up to spend the night.

  The only fly in the ointment was that Jeff was back in Rockland’s, working all hours to help pay for his college fees and digs. Valerie couldn’t wait to see him. Lizzie, being the understanding friend that she was, had arranged to meet her cousin to go to the pictures and she was going to stay the night at her house. Her cousin was sharing a house with a few friends, one of whom, Dara, Lizzie was dead keen on. Valerie hoped that he fancied her back. She’d love to see Lizzie with someone nice. Her friend’s choice in men had been rather disastrous since Phil Casey had done the dirty on her, and she seemed to lurch from one totally unsuitable man to another. The last one, a chap from work, had kept her dangling and waiting by the phone, and allowed her to spend a fortune wining and dining him, rarely putting his hand in his pocket until Valerie had bluntly told her that she was being a doormat and she had reluctantly agreed and given him the boot.

  ‘Tonight’s the night; I t
hink something’s going to happen. My horoscope in Company was great. “A life-changing event,” it said.’ Lizzie oozed optimism as she got into the car beside Valerie and waved at Mrs Maguire, their landlady, who was deadheading her roses. Mrs M waved grandly back in a rather regal manner and the girls smiled at each other. The sherry fumes had been rather overpowering when they had stopped to say hello to her on their way out.

  ‘You gels look delightful,’ she declared. ‘Did you enjoy the wedding? I rather fancy Philip myself. Looks marvellous in uniform, deah. So straight and erect,’ she said to Valerie, while Lizzie tried to keep from laughing.

  ‘Indeed, very handsome,’ Valerie agreed as they edged forward along the path. The trick was not to stop when you got the whiff of alcohol from her. Once you stopped it was impossible to get away. ‘Enjoy your evening, Mrs Maguire,’ she said, putting on a spurt, Lizzie close behind her.

  ‘Straight and erect, hmm! I could do with a bit of that.’ Lizzie pulled down the visor and studied her reflection critically as Valerie snorted with laughter and put the key in the ignition. ‘Drive on, Macduff,’ her best friend ordered. ‘Let’s hit the town.’

  The traffic was light and Valerie parked just down from Findlater’s Church. As they strolled past the Gate, towards O’Connell Street, she sighed with happiness. By now the centre of town was busy. She could see the queues forming for the Savoy, the Adelphi and the Ambassador Cinemas, and a busker played a lively version of ‘Dirty Old Town’ on the corner of Parnell Street. Couples strolled along in the evening sunshine and a group of giggling teenagers yelled flirty comments at a couple of Russian sailors who were out for a night on the town. It was all so different from Rockland’s. So cosmopolitan, Valerie thought, as a gaggle of Spanish students overtook them, chattering away in their native tongue, and a coachload of American tourists poured off their bus to see a play at the Gate Theatre.

  ‘Have a great night. Tell Jeff I was asking for him,’ Lizzie said as they stopped to go their respective ways. Valerie was turning right to head past the Rotunda Hospital and Lizzie was meeting her cousin at the Savoy.

  ‘I hope you shift Dara. Give me a buzz at work tomorrow to let me know.’

  ‘Sure I will. Have a great night with lover boy!’ Lizzie smirked. She burst into the Pointer Sisters’ new smash hit, ‘Slow Hand’.

  ‘Stop it, you,’ Valerie giggled, digging her in the ribs, pink with embarrassment at the sexy words.

  ‘At least you won’t have to worry about Mrs M hearing. She was tipsy when we were leaving so she’ll be out for the count later,’ Lizzie remarked as the leaves on the trees under which they stood caught the evening sun.

  ‘You’re a pal,’ Valerie said, and they waved at each other before going their separate ways. The Parnell Mooney was humming, busy with tired workers having a drink before going home, and revellers out for drinks before going to the cinema or the theatre. A young man, flushed and excited, was toasting the birth of his first son in the Rotunda Hospital across the street. Valerie peered around the dim, dusky bar. Particles of dust suspended on sunbeams seemed to dance over the drinkers’ heads, and the smog of smoke, and the smell of Guinness and beer and furniture polish was a heady mix as she made her way through the throngs, wondering if Jeff had arrived yet. She hated waiting in a pub on her own, and hoped he wouldn’t be long.

  He was over an hour late when she saw him make his way towards her, looking faintly apologetic when he saw her scowling.

  ‘Sorry,’ he said, bending down and kissing her on the cheek. ‘The bass were biting and we just had to fish them, and then the last line of lobster pots we threw out got tangled. It was just one of those days,’ he said tiredly. His face was tanned and weather-beaten, giving him a faintly swarthy air. She melted a little.

  ‘I just hate waiting in pubs on my own,’ she said, scooting along the banquette to make room for him. She’d managed to get a seat at a table and had sat sipping a spritzer and reading the latest Jackie Collins novel while she waited for him.

  ‘Do you want another drink?’ he asked.

  ‘Just another spritzer,’ she said, putting her book into her bag.

  ‘So what do you want to do? Did you come up in your mam’s car or on the bike?’ she asked when he came back from the bar.

  ‘Ma gave me the car. I’ve to be back to catch the tide in the morning so it will be an early start. What do you want to do?’ He leaned over and kissed her again, and she threw her arms around him and hugged him.

  ‘You decide,’ she said happily, snuggling in against him. She didn’t care what they did so long as they were together.

  ‘Would you fancy going to see Raiders of the Lost Ark? Everyone’s saying it’s a brilliant film,’ he suggested hopefully. Jeff loved going to the cinema, but sometimes the action films he chose were not to her taste.

  ‘Oh, that’s the one Lizzie’s going to. OK,’ Valerie agreed. ‘Do you want to go for something to eat and we can go to a later showing? Lizzie’s staying over with her cousin so we have the room to ourselves. She’s a great friend.’

  ‘Deadly.’ Jeff’s eyes lit up. ‘We’ll make the most of that.’

  ‘You bet.’ Valerie squeezed his hand tightly. She couldn’t wait to make love to him. If it were up to her she would have gone straight home to bed. They strolled along O’Connell Street, chatting away, when Jeff heard his name being called just as they reached North Earl Street.

  ‘Ah, Eddie, how are you?’ he said, smiling. ‘Valerie, this is one of my classmates in college; he was at Queen the night we were there. You remember Valerie?’ he asked his friend.

  ‘I do. Hi, Valerie. This is Lindsey.’ He introduced the girl he was with. They chatted for a while and then Lindsey rooted in her bag and pulled out a camera. ‘Would you take a photo of us under Clerys Clock?’

  ‘Lindsey!’ Eddie exclaimed. ‘She has hundreds of photos. She’s a photo fanatic,’ he groaned, throwing his eyes up to heaven.

  ‘Sure,’ agreed Jeff. ‘I’ll do my Lord Snowdon impression.’

  ‘And I’ll take one of you and Valerie,’ Lindsey said, posing under the clock, a famous landmark for meeting on a first date.

  There was much laughter as they took the photos and said their goodbyes.

  ‘I hope she gives you the ones she took of us,’ Valerie said as they retraced their steps back towards North Earl Street to eat in one of the small bistros.

  Raiders of the Lost Ark was one of the best movies they had ever seen, they both agreed several hours later as the crowds spilled out onto O’Connell Street. In spite of herself, Valerie had really enjoyed it, hiding her face in Jeff’s shoulder when she thought it was going to be scary, and cheering Indiana with the rest of the audience when he got out of a tight spot.

  ‘Harrison Ford is almost as sexy as you,’ Valerie teased as they walked hand in hand up towards North Frederick Street where her car was parked. Jeff had parked close by in Parnell Square so he walked her to the Mini, and she waited until he drove past in his mother’s car before moving out into the traffic to follow him. Driving past the Black Church she caught up with him and flashed him and saw him wave back. Her heart was singing. Soon she would be in his arms. She sang along to ‘The Tide is High’, at the top of her voice. In her wildest imagination she had never dreamed she could be so happy. She was almost afraid it was too good to be true, she thought a little fearfully as they sped home.

  ‘Don’t say anything, don’t make any noise,’ Valerie warned Jeff, as usual, when they walked hand in hand up the small garden path to the front door. Although Jeff had stayed over regularly ever since she’d moved in, she didn’t want to take any chances of Mrs Maguire hearing him coming in, just in case the landlady got stroppy. Mrs Maguire generally left the girls to their own devices, far more interested in sipping Buckfast Tonic Wine, or Harvey’s Bristol Cream while watching soaps and playing Patience with a tatty pack of dog-eared cards, than worrying about her ‘gels’ upstairs.

  Valerie had put fresh shee
ts on the bed and bought herself a sexy spaghetti-strap nightdress in Roches Stores, and now she busied herself lighting candles and putting some mood music on her cassette recorder. Jeff was in the kitchen opening a bottle of Blue Nun, and preparing a treat for their supper. She rubbed some body lotion into her arms and legs, sprayed some Charlie onto her wrists and slipped into the pale aquamarine nightie, which slithered down over her hips and made her feel deliciously sophisticated and sexy, just like her heroines in Dallas and Dynasty.

  ‘Hey, that’s gorgeous on you!’ her boyfriend exclaimed when he came into the bedroom, carrying a tray with two glasses of wine, and two full dishes of prawn cocktail.

  ‘Oh yummy!’ Valerie licked her lips, forgetting her sophistication when she spied the treat he’d made.

  ‘Fresh off the boat. Ma cooked them when I was having my shower, and made the Marie Rose sauce. I really only had to wash the lettuce and arrange them in the dish and sprinkle the paprika on them,’ he admitted, laying the tray on the bed and handing her a dish and a serviette.

  ‘You have the room nice,’ he said as they sipped their wine and ate the plump luscious prawns. ‘The candles are sexy.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Valerie didn’t let on that a lot of her clutter had been kicked under the bed. In the candlelight the faded cream wallpaper didn’t look quite so old and marked, and the pink floral curtains weren’t as garish as in daylight. She and Lizzie had bought two pale pink nylon bedspreads and pillow shams to dress their divan beds and two pink lamps for their bedside lockers, and in the candlelight the room looked inviting and romantic.

  ‘Better than the boat shed, isn’t it?’ Jeff grinned as he scraped his dish and took a slug of wine.

  ‘Much,’ Valerie said fervently, taking the dishes and tray and laying them on the floor. ‘Now ravish me.’ She couldn’t stop smiling at him. Their relationship was getting better and better. They could talk about anything. It was the most sustaining relationship of her life. She had never thought such joy was possible between a man and a woman, but then all she’d known was the toxic relationship between her mother and father.