Finishing Touches Page 13

  ‘You haven’t a notion, have you? You’re wasting your time here. And you’ve a nerve even to consider applying for the bank, Miss O’Shaughnessy!’ Sister James was working herself up into a very satisfying rage. She had a loose lower lip and prominent teeth and when she lost her temper or spoke quickly the person opposite her was quite liable to be sprayed.

  Aileen had just about enough of Sister James. Glaring at the nun and wiping her cheek, she retorted coldly, ‘Kindly say it . . . don’t spray it.’ Just then the bell went. Gathering her books, she marched from the classroom, leaving Sister James red-faced and speechless. The rest of the class hid their grins, delighted that the unpopular nun had finally got her comeuppance. Only Aileen would have the nerve to do it! Sister James was so flustered she completely forgot to give the girls any homework.

  ‘I feel much better after that, I can tell you,’ Aileen confided, as she and Cassie walked along the main street on their way home. Cassie laughed.

  ‘You really got her where it hurts. She was flabbergasted.’

  ‘Well, I wouldn’t normally pass remarks like that but she was just so smart, she was asking for it. For someone with her posh accent who is always telling us how well-bred she is, she’s mighty rude,’ Aileen sniffed.

  ‘Don’t know where she got that accent from. My Aunt Elsie knows her family and they came from Kerry. They moved up to Dublin years ago. But she’s from Kerry all the same.’ Cassie was feeling slightly peckish. ‘Come on, let’s go into Tum Tums for a bite to eat,’ she said to Aileen, who needed no second urging. Tum Tums had recently opened in Port Mahon and did a roaring trade. The home-made soups were the talk of the town. Although it was only four-thirty in the afternoon the place was almost full. Friday was market-day in Port Mahon and the main street was a hive of activity.

  Aileen and Cassie managed to secure a window-seat and sat back in their pine chairs, perusing the menu.

  ‘I think I’ll have the Chicken Kiev,’ Cassie decided.

  ‘And I’ll have the lasagne, please,’ Aileen told the waitress. ‘And a pot of tea for two.’

  ‘It’s nice to treat ourselves now and again, isn’t it?’ Cassie declared, knowing that Nora would go mad if she saw them. Her mother had a dinner prepared at home. Well, she just wasn’t in the mood for smoked cod today and that was that.

  ‘It’s the perfect way to start off the weekend,’ Aileen agreed. ‘Tomorrow is going to be a great day. And we deserve it.’ She pointed to the up-market boutique across the street. ‘I see Vogue has a sale on. I wonder if there is anything nice there.’

  ‘Nothing you or I could afford, so forget it,’ Cassie said firmly. Aileen could get carried away quite easily where clothes were concerned. Vogue was way out of their league. All the rich farmers’ wives and the wealthy women of Skerries and Balbriggan and the rest of north County Dublin came to Vogue to shop. They watched a trio of glamorous women emerge from the boutique, carrying the distinctive black-and-gold bags with Vogue blazoned on them. ‘We’ll be like them some day,’ she said to her friend.

  ‘That’s if we ever get out of Port Mahon,’ Aileen replied glumly. ‘Well, Mother will just have to get used to the idea that I’m not going to be tied to her apronstrings for ever. Really, Cassie, she’s very demanding. My dad died years ago and Mother still hasn’t learnt to stand on her own two feet. For God’s sake, don’t let your mother get too dependent. For her own good as well as yours.’ Aileen was uncharacteristically serious. Cassie knew she and her sister, Judy, had a hard enough time with Angela O’Shaughnessy, who tended towards the neurotic.

  ‘Don’t worry, Aileen, Mam will get back to herself and you and I will get up to Dublin one of these fine days. Our time will come,’ Cassie said with more confidence than she felt. It wasn’t that she hated home or Port Mahon. In fact there were times when she loved where she lived, particularly in the summer and autumn. Port Mahon was a thriving little town and there was plenty to do there, but Cassie knew it was time to spread her wings. She felt terribly restless. A whole new world beckoned, if only she could make the break.

  ‘Oh look!’ Aileen pointed. ‘Hit-and-Run strikes again! Isn’t he obnoxious?’ Looking out the bay window, Cassie could see the town’s traffic warden poised for action. Nicknamed Hit-and-Run by one of the town wits, his modus operandi was perfectly described by his nickname. A timid little man, fearful of confrontation, he would stand in the shelter of a shop doorway while taking details of his intended target. Once the ticket was written he nipped out, placed it behind the wiper and was gone. As there were double yellow lines on both sides of the main street he had a busy time. Market-day was a particularly nerve-wracking day for him and right now he looked totally harassed.

  Cassie and Aileen sat enjoying their meal, watching the to-ing and fro-ing along the street, commenting on this one and that one and quite enjoying themselves. Before they left Tum Tums, they had discussed almost all the inhabitants of Port Mahon.

  An hour later, full to the gills, Cassie sat at the dining-table at home gazing unenthusiastically at the steaming plate in front of her.

  ‘I hope that’s not dried up, Cassie, love,’ Nora fussed. ‘I didn’t know you’d be late.’

  ‘It’s fine, Mam. It looks delicious,’ her daughter fibbed. Barbara was over at Judy’s house. John was out the back chopping wood, and Martin and Irene were watching TV.

  ‘Cassie, I was just wondering,’ Nora began diffidently. ‘Well, I was thinking of going to an ICA meeting tonight. You don’t think it’s too soon, do you?’ The question was music to Cassie’s ears. Her mother hadn’t been to her ladies’ club meeting since Jack died. It was a good sign that she was thinking of going. It meant that she was starting to get back to her old self.

  ‘I think that’s a great idea, Mam. Of course it’s not too soon. It’s what Poppa would want. He’d go mad if he thought you were going to turn into a recluse.’

  ‘Well, maybe I’ll go and get ready so,’ Nora replied, kissing her daughter on the top of her head. ‘You’re a great comfort to me, Cassie. I don’t know how I would have managed without you.’

  ‘You’d have managed fine,’ Cassie smiled at her mother, though her heart sank. Having her mother say things like that made it much more difficult for her to think about going to live in Dublin. Why couldn’t she be just like Laura and go! Cassie knew there were times she was much too soft. It was something she was going to have to work on. She couldn’t go through her life carrying on like this or she’d end up a basket-case!

  Eleven

  Two months later, having done a very successful job interview, Cassie was offered a position with Allied Isles Banks. Nora was ecstatic. To get the bank was a great thing, more prestigious, indeed, than getting the Corporation or County Council. It would be wonderful to be able to go to her ladies’ club and tell them all that Cassie had got the bank!

  Cassie wasn’t sure how she felt. She had just applied for the position, as she had applied for several others, did the interview along with thousands of others and got the job. At least it would get her out of the secretarial course. It would mean she would be on a training course in Dublin initially, although she was told she could be sent anywhere the bank had a branch, and that included all around the country, Northern Ireland, England and Scotland and the Channel Islands. This would make things much easier when the time came for her to leave home. Nora couldn’t argue about it, whatever she might feel. Cassie was to start her training course as a junior bank official in the new year. She would do a two-week course at the training centre in Ranelagh before being assigned to a branch.

  It was a good way to start a new year, Cassie reflected, as she sat on the train heading into Dublin on the first morning of her course. She hoped 1973 would be the start of a new life for her. At least it couldn’t be much worse than the year that had just passed. Christmas had been terrible for them. Of course, the first Christmas was always the worst for a bereaved family.

  Jack Jordan had loved Christmas. He
threw himself into the decorating with gusto, taking great pride in his Christmas tree. Not just any old tree for Jack. It had to be the right one, usually a magnificent bushy specimen that dominated the sitting-room. Festooned with twinkling lights and decorations and tinsel, it was always a sight to behold. He would scour the countryside looking for the most perfect pieces of holly, out of which he would fashion beautiful wreaths to decorate the front door and windows. On Christmas Eve, he and Nora would place a lighted candle in the sitting-room window, as was the custom in the country, to welcome the arrival of the Infant Jesus.

  On Christmas Day, after Mass, the house would fill up with family and relatives, and an air of infectious gaiety prevailed. Succulent smells emanating from the kitchen would waft around the house, proving too much for the guests. They would invariably end up wending their way out to Nora, who would allow them to taste her mouth-watering turkey and stuffing. Jack loved it. He would go around urging people to ‘drink up, there’s plenty more.’ Later, people would start to leave in dribs and drabs to go and get their own dinners, and the family would be alone, ready to enjoy the feast that Nora had prepared. As Jack said grace, he would always add, ‘Thank God we’re all here together to share another Christmas. ‘I’m the luckiest man in the world, with a wonderful wife and five great children.’

  Cassie tried to swallow the lump that rose in her throat at the memories that had come flooding back. Tears slid down her cheeks and hastily she brushed them away. Fortunately no-one was looking at her as the early commuter train sped towards the city. Everyone was too engrossed in books and papers or staring at the turbulent grey sea that lashed the big rocks along the coast.

  The Jordan family had decided not to decorate the house this past Christmas and they had gone to Nora’s younger sister, Betty, and her family for Christmas lunch. Betty and her husband, Dermot, had gone to a lot of trouble and Nora and the rest of them were very appreciative but it was hard to keep up the façade of jollity even while they were with their relatives, and the nearer they got to home that evening the more heavy-hearted they got. The rest of the night had been spent looking at TV, which at least kept the younger ones occupied. It had been utterly dismal and Cassie was relieved it was all over. Maybe next year wouldn’t be so bad.

  What would it be like on the training course, she wondered? What kind of people would be doing it? Laura was going to meet her at lunchtime and that was something to look forward to. Although her college holidays weren’t over yet, she was back in Dublin for her part-time jobs. Poor old Aileen was facing another term at Saint Imelda’s. She had got a job as clerical officer in Dublin Corporation and was on a panel waiting to be called. Everyone knew that Sister James had been triumphant when Aileen didn’t get the bank, but she never made the mistake of tangling with Aileen again. Aileen had been delighted for Cassie when her friend did get the bank but Cassie knew that Aileen really dreaded going back to Saint Imelda’s without her. At least, when they were together, they were able to cope with the boredom and restrictions by having a laugh. Cassie didn’t envy Aileen having to put up with Sister James for another term. The sooner her friend got her job with the Corporation, the better for her sanity. Would the time ever come when they could get their flat together? Cassie just hoped so, and the sooner the better.

  The train was slowing down now as they started to travel through the outer suburbs of Dublin. It wouldn’t be long before she was starting on her career as a junior bank official.

  Aileen sat by herself in Tum Tums, sipping a cup of strong coffee and eating a thick slice of buttered cherry log. She was thoroughly pissed off, so pissed off that she had decided not to go to classes today. She really missed Cassie. She envied her too. Not a nasty envy, mind, never that. Just envied her the fact that she was finally on her way. She would be earning her own money and she’d be in a position to make the break from Port Mahon. That is, if she could make the decision to go. Aileen sighed. No-one knew better than she what it was like to have a clinging mother.

  Angela O’Shaughnessy was the most clinging person in the country. Probably in the world! She was one of these people who always wanted someone dancing attendance. ‘I’m only a poor widow!’ she’d say and Aileen would be ready to strangle her. Angela was not poor. Her husband had left her quite comfortable, with a nice semi-detached house of which the mortgage was paid off on his death. At least she hadn’t been left with five children to rear like Mrs Jordan. As far as Aileen could see, she and Judy had practically reared themselves. All Angela ever did was go to Mass in the morning, do a bit of shopping and prepare a meal for the three of them. Then she spent the rest of the day doing The Irish Times crossword and watching quiz shows and soaps on TV. Her mother actually led a charmed existence and in her own way she was quite contented, if she would only admit it to herself. She was not one for ladies’ clubs and committees like Nora Jordan, more’s the pity. At least Cassie’s mother had interests in the outside world. If Angela went to the ladies’ club it might have given her something to occupy her mind and she would have less time to dwell on her aches and pains and imaginary problems. Unfortunately for Aileen and Judy, Angela liked hibernating in her little nest, letting the rest of the world go by. But she didn’t want to hibernate by herself. She wanted her daughters to hibernate with her. Well, too bad, Aileen thought. No more hibernation for her, thank you very much. She was getting out as soon as she could.

  If only this job with the Corporation would come up. She had no idea how long she would be on the panel before she was called. To be honest, she would have loved to get the bank. The social life was terrific and they had a great amateur dramatic society where her acting talents could have flourished. Unfortunately she hadn’t been able to make head or tail of some of the aptitude tests. The ones with circles and triangles were totally confusing. After her performance at the tests she had known that she wouldn’t get the job. It had been a disappointment for her but she didn’t let on to Cassie. She didn’t want Cassie to feel bad about her success. If there was one person who deserved something nice to happen to her, it was her best friend.

  Aileen toyed with the idea of ordering another slice of cherry log. She might as well, she decided. It would help to pass the time and it was lovely and warm here in Tum Tum’s. She couldn’t spend the whole day here, more’s the pity. She didn’t feel like ambling around the town, it was too cold and miserable. If she went home and pretended she was sick, Angela would start fussing like nobody’s business and probably call out the doctor. What was a girl on the mitch to do? Aileen had a brainwave. The Port Mahon Dramatic Society intended to present Calamity Jane with herself in the lead role. There was lots of scenery that needed painting. She would take herself off to the club and spend the day there. If she had had her wits about her, she could have gone into Dublin and met Laura and Cassie for lunch! Now that would have been nice! Laura was really looking well these days. She had taken to life in Dublin like a duck to water. The lucky thing. One thing about Laura was that she knew what she wanted and nothing stood in her way. Well, Aileen was going to take a leaf out of her friend’s book, she decided, as she took a satisfying bite out of her second piece of cherry log.

  Laura sat with her coat on, huddled over a one-bar electric fire in her room. She was studying hard. Her hands were numb and her feet were like two ice-blocks. Really this room was the pits, damp and cold. It was furnished with a lumpy single divan, a wooden wardrobe, an old-fashioned chest of drawers whose drawers stuck whenever she tried to open them, and a small desk to study at. It was depressingly decorated: faded pink wallpaper with huge cabbage roses, a brown carpet and yellowing lace curtains that were pretty tattered. There was no comfort whatsoever. Still, the room was cheap and would do for the time being. And she was able to walk to college. It was a brisk forty-minute walk from the dilapidated redbrick house in Ranelagh out to Belfield, but Laura was used to walking and didn’t mind. Besides she saved a fortune on bus-fares. The only thing was that she was starving when she got
in in the evening and the food was downright bad. Anyway, she thought, now that Cassie had finally got a job, the time would surely come when she would be living in Dublin instead of commuting and they could get a flat together. She hoped fervently that this would happen soon, though if Cassie were sent down the country that would be the end of that idea. Laura’s heart sank at the thought. For so long the three of them had been planning on sharing a flat in Dublin. It would be great fun, Laura just knew it. If only Cassie could leave home. It was unreasonable of Nora to expect her to commute daily to the city. But Cassie was so soft where her family were concerned. Then of course she had a happy family life, something Laura had never experienced.

  Her eyes darkened as unhappy memories crowded in: the rows at home; her father acting the tyrant; her brother coming home drunk; and her mother passively accepting the way her husband treated her. Laura’s hands clenched. Just thinking about her father could make her furious. Who was he to think they should all be at his beck and call? Why did Peter Quinn think he had the right to be treated like a god? Throwing a tantrum if his dinner wasn’t on the table at one on the dot. Expecting Laura to clean the bath after him. Expecting Anne to agree with everything that he said. Oh she was well out of it! If she had to stay in cheap digs for the rest of her life, it was better than putting up with the abuse she got at home from her father. Why her mother put up with it, Laura could not understand.

  ‘Why don’t you leave?’ she asked Anne several times after there had been a row at home. ‘Why don’t you just tell him to feck off and get his own dinner for a change? Why do you put up with it?’

  ‘Where would I go? What would I do?’ her mother responded tiredly.

  ‘You could get a job, get a little place of your own,’ Laura urged. But she could see that the thought of being alone and standing on her own two feet was far more terrifying to her mother than having to put up with her husband’s abuse. Well, that was her mother’s choice and, try as she might, she could not make her change her mind. Laura knew that as soon as she could, she was getting out.