Finishing Touches (17 page)

‘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!

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.

Getting the grant for college had been a godsend. She didn’t have to ask her father for a penny. At last she was free of him. From now on she would make her own way in the world. Leaving
home to come to Dublin had been the happiest day of her life. Not even these grotty digs could get her down. This was only temporary. Things would improve. She had stayed at home only for Christmas
Day and St Stephen’s Day – that had been more than enough. Anyway, she had had the excuse that she had to get back to her part-time jobs.

Some of the people in college had felt sorry for her having to come back to Dublin so soon, with term not even started. But Laura didn’t mind a bit and it was a great opportunity to get
some studying done. It was most important that she keep up with her studies. She didn’t want to have to cram in the weeks before the exams. One thing she could say about herself was that she
was disciplined. But then she had reason to be. She had a goal to reach, the goal of independence. When she saw some of her classmates going to parties morning, noon and night, missing lectures and
treating the whole thing as a great lark, she thought they were crazy. Of course they were the ones with rich daddies who didn’t have to worry about where the rent for the digs was coming
from. A nice life if you could have it.