Scars that Run Deep (11 page)

I discovered I would need all my papers and a passport if I was to travel. I went to the custom house, and it was there I learned who my mother was. The details were bare:

Date of birth: 7/3/42

Name: Patrick Twoher

Place: Dublin

Mother's name: Helen Twoher

Father's name: Unknown

I was gobsmacked. But I was never to trace my routes for fear of what I'd find. My fear was I'd only find graves of the unknown.

WHEN I LOOK
back on my past, 1959 brings happy memories. It was an eventful year.

I was settling into my new lodgings in 3 Fairview Strand with the Cashin family, who made me feel very welcome. This gave me a smashing feeling; I was really in my element with them. I was one of at least four lodgers in the house, which was fronted by a small grocer's shop, and beside it was Mulvey's butchers. Bridie Cashin ran the grocery shop. Sometimes I was asked to help out; the only problem was that I could never look straight at a customer, as I would get into fits of laughter at the size, shape or appearance of them – a throwback to my Artane days, when a new Brother was given a nickname within his first half-hour of duty. This was a real problem I had, and I was trying to change, as Mick Bradley had advised.

There was no shortage of things to do after work or at the weekends. Though there was no such thing as television or
videos, I was never at a loss. Whatever was there we made terrific use of it. In one corner of the large sitting-room rested the old gramophone, which I fondly wound up by hand, and I sat back by the open turf fire at night listening to
Songs Our Fathers Loved
: ‘The Rocks of Bawn', ‘The Bold Fenian Men', ‘Boolavogue', and ‘The Rising of the Moon'.

I never felt alone in Bridie's place: there was a warm welcome waiting for everyone. It wasn't unusual for me to get into my single bed in the room I shared with two other lodgers only to waken up to find I was sharing my bed with some tall GAA county footballer, one of many such visitors to the Cashins' place.

I have fond memories of card games that went on into the night, while the seventy-eights on the gramophone kept the spirits high. I found great peace and joy just to sit and watch those men, all so contented together. There was no money to be won or lost, just good crack by the turf fire.

One night I heard a loud tapping on the window, everyone else being preoccupied with the cards in their possession. I answered the door; and standing before me, almost breathless, was a very attractive young woman. ‘I'm Isabelle,' she said. I stood staring at her, she was so beautiful. She was a few years older than me. She spoke again. ‘Could you tell Terry I'm here? I hope I can stay the night. Is Bridie at home by any chance?' I could have fallen for her there and then. I smiled
and said, ‘I'll go and tell them you're here. They're playing cards.'

For the first time I experienced a sensual feeling for the opposite sex, and I loved it. As I sat down by the fire I couldn't take my eyes off Isabelle. What I'd give to have her take care of me! The more I studied Isabelle and Terry as they sat together by the fire facing me, the more I wanted to be in Terry's place. As I watched them I began to realise there was something missing in my life. Though I had no idea how to go about it, I began to feel I was spending far too much time with ex-Artaners rather than with girls. I wanted to be with someone like Isabelle.

I was over seventeen and – aside from my dancing partner – had never been out with a girl. Though I was really keen to try it out, I hadn't a clue how to go about it.

At the time of my first date I was earning £3 7s 6d a week and I was paying Bridie Cashin £1 15s for full board plus my laundry. I was in the happy position of being in the money, and I believed I could afford to chance going out with a girl, as Bridie often encouraged me to do.

Dancing was still my favourite pastime, and I loved the old-time waltz. One evening, while glancing through the evening paper, I noticed a competition being run in the Irish Club. I decided at once I was going. When I arrived I noticed a young, slim, fair-haired girl standing chatting to her friend.
The hall was quite empty, and as I approached her a chap got in ahead of me. I paused, and I was glad when I saw that he took her friend up to dance. The blonde turned to me with a really suggestive smile. That evening I danced in the arms of someone I longed for.

The competition was going well; we reached the quarter-finals. I'll never forget the great Gallowglass Ceili Band. They filled the air with their wonderful sound. I waltzed that night into the arms of love. I didn't have to ask her for a date, or if I could see her home. It was altogether different. We simply went together up the steps at the rear of the bandstand and had our Club Orange, eyeing each other, nice and easy. What amazed me about it was how simple it all was.

Noeleen was at least five feet six and slim, with blue eyes. Her fair hair was short and permed. She was nearly two years older than me, and she came from Drumcondra. With a little hindsight I'm certain if I had known just a little about sexual matters it would have worked out, as Noeleen was a joy to be with.

We left the ballroom together, though I felt I was following her, and wherever she chose to stop suited me fine. Whatever moves she made were new to me. I loved it, and was quite happy to go along with her, as I was on cloud nine.

We went for a lemonade and a chocolate queen cake at the small grocery shop opposite the cinema at the corner of
Dorset Street; it was a regular haunt for couples who went to the Teachers' Club or Granby Hall and the Irish Club. She walked into the laneway between the two blocks. We were standing in an old doorway, and as I looked across I could see the fluorescent lighting over the ballroom further along in Granby Lane.

But I couldn't be with Noeleen in the way she expected. She without doubt took the lead. I was nervous, to say the least. My arm rested around her shoulders. My hands were sweaty. Eventually I asked her about her last bus home. She smiled at me. She was so desirable, and was clearly attracted to me, but I was so naive, and I didn't wish to commit a mortal sin. I was constantly concerned about doing the right thing. ‘You mustn't miss your bus,' I said.

Her hand took hold of mine and placed it inside her blouse on top of her breast. ‘Never mind my bus, just feel my bust. Do you like that?' My body reacted with an unusual hunger, but I shook with fear of being seen. Then the sweat simply oozed from me.

I made my first date with Noeleen that night as I walked her to the bus stop. She stood at the stop and spoke to me in a way no one had ever spoken to me before. Her voice was sweet, soft as her body. ‘Take me home. I've a lovely place. You'll love it. There's a laneway and a long driveway up to my house. There are lots of bushes.'

I felt out of my depth, and as I look back, perhaps I was out of my mind. I was concerned for her wellbeing and that she get her last bus, as I felt responsible for her.

Her voice suddenly became more seductive. She turned to face me. ‘Are you feeling all right, Pat, here let me undo your tie and loosen your collar. Gosh, you are so tense.' Her soft, warm hands opened my tie, then reached to undo the shirt button.

I felt my body was on fire as she touched me but I froze as she pulled me to her. Our lips met, my heart raced, my mind was a blank. I couldn't begin to imagine how I could please Noeleen. I quite simply let her lead me wherever her incredible, tender, sensual touching found its way.

‘You mustn't miss your bus,' I said eventually.

She gave me a very dejected look and said, ‘You're not going to leave me here, are you?'

I felt embarrassed that I didn't know what to do to please her. Fact is I had no clue how to please a girl. Yet I felt I had done everything I could do to look after her. I bought her cakes and a bottle of orange. I'd seen her safely to her bus stop. I was certain that was all that she expected of me. I was really hoping she would understand, yet her awful expression left me in no doubt that she was utterly disappointed with me.

I began to walk slowly away. I glanced at my watch, and muttered, ‘Gosh, I'm due in work in the bakery at midnight. Hell, I'll be late, I hate to be late.' Then I heard
a voice calling me. ‘Pat, wait for me.' I turned to see Noeleen dashing up to me, her eyes pleading. ‘Please take me home. I've got a lovely house with a long front garden, with trees and evergreen bushes. My Mum and Dad will be in bed, please don't leave me like this.'

My heart almost stopped as I faced the first girl who ever had a real interest in me. Yet, I couldn't handle it. ‘The bus is about to move off. The driver has started up the engine, you'd better hurry.'

‘Can we meet again? You could get to know me better.'

How could I refuse her? ‘Yes, yes, be glad to see you again.'

She drew real close to me by the bus. ‘Next time you'll take me home. You won't regret it.'

She kissed me hungrily before taking a seat on the bus. Noeleen pulled open the window of the bus. She looked ravishing. ‘I'll see you on Sunday night. Just say a place.'

Without thinking I said, ‘Outside the Fairview Grand.'

She agreed. I hurried to get my bus to work, thrilled I had my first date. I was just seventeen and so naive.

I booked two seats for the Fairview Grand for the Sunday night showing. When I look back to that occasion years later, I realise that I should have booked for the city, the Royal perhaps, as she lived in Drumcondra and I in Fairview. What's more, I loved and adored the Westerns. I never even considered what Noeleen liked.

As we entered the cinema I headed for the centre seats. She pulled me back; I wondered whatever for. She spoke quickly as the lights went low. ‘Follow me,' she whispered, and we ended up sitting close to the wall at the back. I turned to her and asked her if she liked cowboy films.

She whispered, ‘No,' and smiled teasingly, her lips almost on mine. ‘Do you?' I responded at once. ‘Of course. That's the reason I came.' She didn't answer. ‘Do you like Errol Flynn?' I asked her.

She smiled and shook her head. Suddenly she whispered, ‘I like you a lot better. Are you really interested in all that horseshit?'

I laughed. A voice from behind said, ‘Shush. Shush, please, or I will have yeh put out.'

After a while Noeleen whispered, ‘Are you enjoying the film, Pat?'

I was glued to what was going on along the Sante Fe Trail. I didn't even look at her but said, ‘Yes, yes, I am Noeleen.'

‘That's too bad,' she muttered and suddenly she got up and walked out. Suddenly I was alone.

As I pulled open the bakery door the clock struck midnight. I was relieved I made it on time. ‘How did your date go for yeh, Pat?'

I looked away from Mando as he took his fish and chips
out of the oven. I felt sick, tears rolled down my face over my lips. I could taste her lipstick.

‘Your bleedin' crying, Paddy, did you screw her?' He laughed.

‘I don't have a clue as to what you mean, “screw her”. I didn't touch her.' Mando came up closer to me, his voice softer now. ‘Look Paddy, did yeh shag her?'

I was confused by all of his expressions. ‘I don't understand you, honestly I don't.' I felt gutted, sick.

‘What did she do then, since you respected her and treated her so ladylike.'

‘I don't know what you mean. I told you I treated her the only way I know, so what's wrong with that?'

He poured out the tea. ‘Here have a few chips. I'll tell you what's bleedin' wrong with you, but first you tell me, did yeh take her home?'

‘No,' I muttered.

‘You telling me you had a date, your bleedin' first date, and she begged you to take her home?'

‘No, no, she walked out on me. She's not coming back.'

He spilt his tea as he laughed at the news. ‘Fuckin' hell, Paddy, that's an awful start for a first date. She walked out of the cinema on yeh, left yeh on yer own? You were naughty, weren't you, bit of a dark horse, surprise, surprise.' I blushed and was shocked at his suggestion. ‘You're all red Paddy,
there's no harm in that, after all, that's what they all yearn for, yeh know.'

I was disgusted with him. My voice was filled with anger now. ‘Look, I swear to you I didn't put a hand on her. She kept asking me if I was enjoying the film. I told her I was.'

Mando laughed. ‘I'm not surprised she fecked off and left yeh, you are supposed to please her Paddy, not ignore her. By the way, have yeh got a phone number for Noeleen by any chance?'

I wasn't thinking of why he'd asked me. I searched in my pockets. I looked at Mando, his dark beady eyes staring at me. ‘No sorry, it must be in my lodgings.' ‘What's that number written on the back of your hand?'

‘Oh sorry, Mando, that's it.' His smile widened. His handsome face lit up. His voice softer now.

‘Can I have it, would yeh mind? Perhaps I could help her.'

Suddenly my thoughts and fears of losing her for ever vanished. My hopes were high again. I gave him the number. He sighed, a long sigh. He seemed to be relieved. ‘Good, thanks Paddy. I won't forget this. I'll do my best to please Noeleen for yeh. '

Gosh, I was delighted with Mando. I couldn't believe he was going to help her for me. ‘What will you do?'

He looked at me cunningly. ‘Ah, Paddy, gimme a bleedin' chance. I'd have to kill yeh if I told yeh that.'

I waited for him to light his half-smoked cigarette. After he exhaled, his gaze caught mine. ‘Know what, Paddy,' he said, as he tapped out the butt of the cigarette, ‘you're not of this world. Artane didn't just shatter your bleedin' dreams and wreck your childhood, it wrecked your bleedin' head, Paddy.'

‘Are you really going to help me and explain to me what I do wrong when I'm out on a date?'

‘You're bleedin' kiddin' me. Look, take my advice and give up going out with girls at least until you are a bit older, and learn a few things, get a bit of maturity, know what I mean, Paddy?'