Finishing Touches Page 15

  ‘Morning, girls. How’s the crack?’ he greeted them cheerfully.

  ‘Tommy, this is Cassie. She’s just starting so be nice to her – for a day or two at least. If you can manage that!’ Jeanne said, with mock severity.

  ‘Nice! I’ll treat her like a queen,’ Tommy laughed. ‘Red carpet and all!’

  ‘Tommy’s a great character,’ Jeanne laughed, as they walked along a carpeted corridor with doors on each side.

  ‘I was told to report to the manager,’ Cassie said.

  ‘You poor thing!’ teased Jeanne. ‘Mr Hurley is nice enough. He expects you to work. Doesn’t mind if you make a mistake once but won’t stand for the same mistake being made twice. He’s strict, but if you’ve got a problem he’s very kind.’ They turned right and went up a grey-carpeted stairs. They stopped outside a door with the manager’s name on it. ‘Here you are, Cassie. Good luck on your first day. I’ll see you around.’

  ‘Thanks very much, Jeanne.’ Feeling lonely, Cassie watched the other girl head back down the stairs. Her palms began to sweat and she was really nervous. This was it! This was where it all began. Taking a deep breath, Cassie knocked on the door and was called to enter.

  ‘Good morning. Miss Jordan, isn’t it? We’ve been told to expect you.’ The tall grey-haired man came from behind his desk, hand outstretched. He was kind-looking and quietly spoken.

  ‘Good morning, Mr Hurley,’ Cassie responded, giving him a firm handshake. He had a nice airy office with a window looking out on Trinity College. She observed this as her new boss motioned her to sit down. He spoke to her for about ten minutes, telling her that Dame Street was an excellent branch to work in from the point of view of gaining experience. If she worked hard she could expect promotion. Allied Isles firmly believed in equality for women and promoted people because of their ability and not because of their gender. In this respect they were streets ahead of their competitors, most of whom expected women to retire on marriage and take the lump sum that they were entitled to. Allied Isles was a thriving go-ahead organization and Cassie could, if she wished, go far.

  Cassie knew he was not exaggerating. Allied Isles were the crème de la crème of the banking companies in Ireland and she was extremely lucky to have secured a position with them.

  ‘I’ll just get a staff officer to have a chat with you now, Miss Jordan. She will show you the attendance book that you sign every day,’ Mr Hurley said pleasantly as he pressed a buzzer on his intercom. A middle-aged woman entered the room and Mr Hurley introduced her as Mrs O’Brien.

  ‘This is our new trainee, Miss Jordan,’ the manager smiled. ‘I’ll leave her in your capable hands.’

  By five o’clock, when it was time to leave work, Cassie didn’t know whether she was coming or going. Mrs O’Brien had shown her where to sign on, then brought her to the locker-room, where she was given a key to one of the stainless-steel lockers. It would be hers for as long as she worked in Dame Street. Then she had been shown the ladies’ and then she had been taken on a guided tour of the bank. It was really rather awesome. The public area was huge. Massive wooden counters ran around the walls behind which, at numerous grilles, dozens of cashiers worked busily, dealing with the queues. Huge pillars stretched from marble floor to intricately carved ceilings, making the place look even more impressive.

  In the ledger-room staff worked on twenty-five huge ledgers, painstakingly entering every transaction. Mrs O’Brien told her that Allied Isles were planning a huge computerization programme and that the ledgers would be obsolete within the following eighteen months. ‘You’ve come in at a very good time,’ the staff officer remarked. ‘They’re going to spend millions on modernizing and you’ll be here right from the start. If you want to get on, my advice to you is perhaps to start doing some computer courses in the autumn when the evening classes start.’

  Good advice, thought Cassie to herself, and perhaps a way out of her dilemma about leaving home. If she were doing classes to further her career, Nora would have no option but to agree to her leaving. Stay at home until she was twenty-one indeed! Already she was heartily sick of commuting. It was tiring and such a waste of time.

  She spent the rest of the day down in the bowels of the bank, filing cheques. It seemed to her that there were millions of them! And they all had to be filed numerically in hundreds of grey filing cabinets. She was given a metal tray on castors and told to file the contents. A number of other staff were filing away, some of them quite middle-aged. Jeanne, who had met her in the canteen at the afternoon tea-break, told Cassie that these were people who for one reason or another had never made management or got promoted.

  ‘There’s some great characters there, though. You’ll have a lot of laughs,’ the other girl assured her. ‘I spent my first six months there.’

  ‘Six months!’ exclaimed Cassie in horror.

  ‘That was good going,’ laughed Jeanne. ‘Some people have been left there for a year!’

  As Cassie sat on the train going home, grateful for having been able to get a seat, she ached with tiredness. She had a pain in her back from bending, three of her carefully manicured nails were broken and she was absolutely mesmerized by numbers. She didn’t think she was going to stick it! And this was only her first day!

  After six months of filing, Cassie was brought upstairs to the typing pool, where she spent her time typing correspondence. She got to know a huge number of people at work and, being outgoing and gregarious, fitted in very well. The social life in the bank was very good and there was an excellent social club that she had joined. The only problem was traipsing in and out of Port Mahon and making sure to leave early enough to get the last train home. It made things very awkward.

  After eight months of commuting, she finally told her mother that she was getting a flat! ‘I’ve got to start a computer course in the evenings next October and there’s no way I can go to college at night in Dublin if I’m living in Port Mahon,’ she explained patiently to her mother.

  ‘Couldn’t you do a computer course here in the technical school?’ Nora demanded. ‘I don’t want you living up there, Cassie. Aren’t you fine here?’

  ‘Mam, I’ve got to do the course in Dublin. It’s one that’s been recommended by the bank and if I want to get ahead and eventually become a manager I’ll have to study. When I become a senior bank official I’ll have to do banking exams to be promoted!’ She said this hoping to appeal to her mother’s proud ambition for her. The way Nora went on in Port Mahon, you’d think Cassie ran the Dame Street branch of Allied Isles!

  It wasn’t that she had to do the computer course, but of course she didn’t say that to Nora. But Cassie reasoned if she did the course, she’d have some idea about computers when they were introduced and it would look good on her record that she had done some extra-mural study with a view to promotion.

  More importantly it would finally mean that the girls could get their long-desired flat together. Laura, having completed her first year at UCD, was in America making as much money as she could. She had acquired a J-1 visa and had gone at the beginning of summer after sitting her exams. Cassie had assured her that at the end of September when she came back they would definitely go looking for a flat together.

  Aileen had finally been called by the Corporation and was, as she described it, ‘rotting away’ in a dingy office in the inner city, filing little pink and green slips, invoices and receipts. She hated it! However, once a fortnight she got a cheque into her hand and that made up for a lot. Sick to the teeth of getting the train into Dublin, she had bought herself a little Mini a couple of months after starting work and now she and Cassie commuted in style! She too was determined to join the flat-hunting expedition when Laura came back. If Angela were going to have a nervous breakdown about it, she’d just have to get on with it.

  By the time September came, Nora had more or less resigned herself to Cassie’s going.

  ‘Lucky you!’ Barbara muttered sulkily. ‘I’ll be left to do everything.’
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  And about time too, thought Cassie unsympathetically. What Barbara would do around the place wouldn’t be noticed.

  ‘You’ll come home Friday nights for the weekends, won’t you?’ This was a statement rather than a question from Nora.

  ‘We’ll see, Mam. I could have classes on Friday nights,’ Cassie explained gently. She and Aileen had decided not to get into the trap of coming home every weekend unless they wanted to. Start as you mean to go on was their motto.

  In spite of herself Cassie felt a bit guilty. She knew it wasn’t reasonable, it was just that she realized how much her mother looked forward to her coming home in the evenings and hearing about all the goings on at work. Still, when she had the flat maybe Nora would come up and stay a night or two and they could go shopping. When she put this proposition to her mother, she stared at her as if she were mad.

  ‘And leave the children here on their own. You must be joking, Cassie!’

  ‘Some children,’ scoffed Cassie. ‘Barbara’s nearly eighteen. John’s fifteen. They’re not children any more, Mam; they’re well capable of looking after themselves for one night.’

  ‘Well, we’ll see,’ Nora agreed, slightly mollified.

  Thirteen

  Laura arrived home from America towards the end of September and serious flat-hunting got under way. The three girls agreed to live either in Rathmines or Ranelagh. Ranelagh if possible. This would be perfect for Cassie when she was studying for her banking exams. It suited Laura fine for UCD and Aileen didn’t care where she lived as long as she got out of Port Mahon. Besides she had the Mini so she was mobile.

  Aileen and Cassie both took a Friday afternoon off to look at the flats Laura had ringed in the paper. Laura had gone to a few places because she was not back at college yet, but she hadn’t seen anything she liked. ‘The greatest kips, I can tell you. Some landlords have an awful neck!’ she moaned in disgust as they met up in Conways Pub in Parnell Street. They were going to have lunch before heading off on the trail. Aileen had been waxing eloquent about the heavenly mushroom vol-au-vents they served for lunch so Cassie and Laura agreed it was time they sampled them.

  The place was crammed, the fog of smoke making it hard to see. It was an old-fashioned pub of great charm and always did a roaring trade at lunchtime. It took a while for them to be served but they finally got a table and were soon tucking into a hearty lunch. Aileen hadn’t lied – the vol-au-vents were superb!

  ‘Mother’s not talking to me!’ Aileen informed Cassie and Laura as she popped a forkful of tasty pastry and mushroom into her mouth.

  ‘She won’t be able to keep it up,’ Cassie responded. ‘Don’t worry. Mam was like that at the beginning but she’s getting used to it now.’

  ‘You don’t know Mother!’ Aileen retorted gloomily. ‘Martyr of martyrs.’

  ‘Ah don’t worry about it, Aileen!’ Laura advised. ‘Your mother’s being totally unreasonable. It’s not as if you were cutting her out of your life, for God’s sake!’

  ‘I know! I know!’ sighed Aileen. ‘It’s just the way she goes on, it’s enough to wilt you.’

  ‘She’ll come round, you’ll see!’ Cassie comforted her. ‘Tell her you’ll have her to stay for the weekend and she can go shopping. That will cheer her up!’

  Aileen brightened up immediately. ‘Oh I never thought of that!’

  They finished lunch, Aileen fed her meter and they went down Henry Street to look for a pair of jeans for her. She was thrilled with the lovely pair of Wranglers she got, but her good spirits disappeared when she arrived out to her car to find that she had been given a ticket for illegal parking. ‘For crying out loud,’ she shrieked. ‘What the hell did he give me a ticket for? There’s still ten minutes on the meter. Someone’s going to suffer for this.’ She glared around her, looking for the offending traffic warden.

  ‘The car in front has one as well and he’s got half an hour on his meter,’ Cassie said, puzzled.

  ‘As a matter of fact,’ Laura said calmly, ‘no-one is allowed to park here at all right now. It happens to be a clearway.’

  ‘Who said that?’ demanded Aileen pugnaciously.

  Laura pointed to the sign further down. ‘That says it!’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me when we were parking?’ snapped the furious Aileen.

  ‘Because I didn’t notice it,’ retorted Laura, angry herself. ‘And besides, I didn’t think we’d be so long.’

  ‘Huh! Some lawyer you’ll make if you can’t notice what’s staring you straight in the face,’ Aileen scowled, totally unreasonable.

  ‘Well, if you’re so perfect, and after all you were the driver, why didn’t you notice it? You shouldn’t be allowed behind the wheel of a car!’ The friends glared at each other.

  ‘Oh for God’s sake!’ interjected Cassie. ‘I’ll pay the fine if it’s going to be such a big deal! Are you going to stand here and fight for the rest of the afternoon?’

  ‘Don’t you start!’ snapped Laura.

  Cassie began to get angry. ‘Listen here, Laura, it’s OK for you. You’re a lady of leisure swanning around the place. I had to take a half-day off work and I don’t intend to spend it standing arguing outside Conways Pub!’

  ‘I am not a lady of leisure either, Cassie Jordan,’ Laura exclaimed indignantly. And you have a nerve to say so!’

  ‘Well, you get much longer holidays than I do. You’re on holidays now!’ Cassie declared huffily.

  ‘I might get long holidays, Cassie, but I’ll have you know I worked my butt off in America doing waitressing jobs. Surely it’s not too much to have a fortnight off before facing back to the slog in college?’ Laura was starting to feel very sorry for herself.

  Aileen started to giggle. ‘And we were going to live happily ever after together in a flat. A flat, I might point out, we haven’t even got yet.’

  ‘Listen to her!’ Laura said to Cassie.

  ‘You started it,’ Cassie said crossly to the instigator of the row.

  ‘I humbly apologize,’ Aileen murmured demurely, looking as though butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth.

  Laura threw her eyes up to heaven. ‘It’s a wonder to me, Aileen O’Shaughnessy, how you’ve survived on this planet for so long without somebody succumbing to the urge to murder you.’

  ‘Sorry!’ Aileen excused herself. ‘It was the shock of the ticket, especially after being so careful to feed the blasted meter. They should have a big notice on them! I think you’ll make a fantastic lawyer. Even better than Perry Mason!’

  ‘Liar!’ laughed Laura. ‘I didn’t intend to demean your prowess as a driver. You know I’m totally in awe of your skill behind the wheel.’

  ‘No need to be sarcastic,’ grinned Aileen. ‘Cassie, are you coming or are you staying?’

  ‘I must be mad wanting to share a flat with you pair,’ said Cassie, good humour restored. That was the nice thing about the girls, she reflected, as they drove around by the Rotunda. Any tiff they ever had was speedily resolved, grudges weren’t held and if you had anything to say you could get it off your chest, secure in the knowledge that the friendship wouldn’t suffer. That was the mark of real friends and Cassie knew she would find no truer friends than Laura and Aileen if she were to search for the rest of her life.

  The first flat they looked at in Rathmines was a disaster. The landlord, a scruffy little man, showed them upstairs. The three of them looked at each other in dismay. The wallpaper, of a dirty grey pattern, was peeling in parts. The bedrooms had a terrible smell and the bathroom was grotty.

  ‘Thanks very much,’ Laura said politely, ‘but it’s not exactly what we’re looking for.’

  ‘Crikey, did you see those curtains?’ Cassie said in disgust. ‘They must never have been washed and I’d say they’re there since the year dot!’

  ‘And he had the cheek to call it an apartment! Some people are terrible chancers!’ Laura sniffed. ‘Drive on, Macduff,’ she ordered their chauffeur, who had been rendered speechless by the landlord’s ne
rve.

  They viewed eight flats in various conditions, most of them not much better than the first, and were beginning to get disheartened as they drove along Beechwood Avenue in Ranelagh to see the last one on their list.

  ‘Large modernized ground-floor flat, suit three/four. Girls only,’ Cassie read out as Aileen drew to a halt outside a two-storey redbrick terraced house. ‘It looks well kept from the outside anyway. That’s usually a good indication,’ she observed, as they climbed out of the Mini.

  ‘Windows and curtains are clean. I wonder is it too big for us. It said to suit four,’ Laura said glumly. She was beginning to lose hope at this stage.

  ‘Look, if it’s anyway decent and we can manage the rent, I think we should take it. And it said three or four; it just means we’ll have more room,’ Cassie said firmly. It was obvious that unless they were prepared to pay a king’s ransom they weren’t going to get anything spectacular.

  ‘Quick!’ hissed Aileen. ‘Here’s another car-load of women. Ring the doorbell so we get first refusal.’

  It was the best they had seen. And most importantly, it was clean. There were two double bedrooms with plenty of wardrobe space, a small but functional bathroom, a kitchen which had a table and four chairs, cooker, fridge and an old twin-tub washing-machine, which was an unexpected bonus. The sitting-room had a comfortable sofa, two armchairs and a bookcase. A big bowl of roses stood in the open fireplace. With the afternoon sun streaming in through the window, it looked very nice.

  ‘We could do a lot with it,’ Cassie whispered as they inspected all the rooms once more.

  ‘And the ground-floor flat gets the back garden so we’d be able to lie out in the summer,’ Laura pointed out.

  ‘I think it’s beautiful!’ Aileen whispered excitedly, as the opposition came into the room they were standing in.

  ‘It’s not bad. I think we should take it,’ a tanned slim girl from the other group said to her two companions. Cassie, Laura and Aileen slipped discreetly out of the room.