Under the July Sun (34 page)

Billy dragged the pile into the scullery muttering, and Eileen and Anna glanced at each other with raised eyebrows.

‘How come Billy never has to do the housework, Mummy?' Eileen asked.

‘Well ye know he has a lot of reading to do for school. It's hard work in a Grammar School and if he's to get into the medical profession, he has to do it.'

‘Huh. Lucky old him,' Eileen said. ‘Well, he'll have to get off his backside a lot more if he does ever get into the medical profession – then he'll get a shock. Lazy devil!'

Cat turned on her.

‘Eileen, that's enough of that. Ye know we all have our tasks to do and Billy is the man of the house since Daddy died, ye know that. And I don't want to hear any more arguments about who does what – we all do our fair share.'

Elizabeth went to the corner of the room and took her bricks out.

‘Billy,' Cat said, ‘play with Elizabeth while we finish gettin' the tea will ye?'

The one thing Billy never minded doing was playing with Elizabeth and he gladly pulled the toy brick box over to the hearth and tipped them out so that they could build something.

‘Did ye feed Tipper, Billy?' Cat asked him as he started placing the bricks in a row.

‘Yes, Mum. And I took him for a walk, but that horrible Chow down the road went for him again so I we didn't get any further, I just brought him home.'

‘They want to get that animal put down, vicious thing. Was he hurt?'

‘No, we got away in time,' he said sitting down next to Elizabeth where he began telling her a story about the train he was making her.

‘Mummy, Mother Superior gave me a letter for you,' Anna said pulling the envelope out of her pocket. ‘Here, I'm sorry it's a bit crumpled.'

‘Oh what's it about?'

‘I don't know, but I thought it was about my socks.'

‘What about yer socks?'

‘Sister Monica scorned them. She made me stand out the front of the class so everyone could take a look at them, and told me I was bold for wearing them to school.'

‘She did
what
?'

‘She said I wasn't to wear such things to school, but it's all right because Mother Superior said I could, and she's going to have a word with Sister Monica.'

Everyone had stopped what they were doing and watched for Cat's reaction to this piece of news, but Cat then sat down to open the letter, thinking it was on the same theme as the socks.

The children watched for her reaction and when Cat began to smile and then jumped up from the chair and began hugging them all, they wondered what the letter had contained. Puzzled, it was Anna who asked what the letter was about.

‘This letter,' Cat said waving the piece of paper about, ‘is the answer to a prayer.'

The children all looked at one another and Anna thought it must surely be about the socks as Mother Superior had talked about Our Lord and the way we have prayed to him in thanks for his kindness.

‘I can't believe it, I just can't believe it,' Cat repeated as she re-read the letter, and having satisfied herself she had the facts right, told the children the contents.

‘The letter from Mother Superior is offerin' me a job in the convent, doin' the cleanin' and I can take Elizabeth with me and she can go into the class with Anna while I'm workin.' Cat went on explaining excitedly, ‘and because I am goin' to be on the staff, we will all get a free dinner. Oh Lord above, I cannot believe this. 'Tis too good to be true. Now Anna, get me some paper and a pen and I'll write to accept it immediately.'

‘So it's not about the socks then?' Anna asked.

‘No, Pet. But don't ye worry, I'll still be seein' that Sister Monica and remind her just what she's supposed to be doin' in her job, not criticising people who have nothin'. Now, let's sit down to eat – I'm starvin'. And just think, we'll have more food on the table from now on, thanks be to God.'

‘C'mon now Anna, hurry up and put Tipper out for a quick run before we go.'

‘Do I have to go, Mummy?' Anna groaned.

‘Of course ye do, Auntie Maureen and Uncle Reggie will be so upset if ye don't, not to mention the boys.'

‘But I don't want to go there. I'd rather stay here and look after Tipper,' Anna moaned, opening the scullery door for the dog to exit. She waited on the step while he sniffed around the back garden then stood smelling the air, nose pointed upward. ‘Come on Tipper, hurry up, I can't wait here all day,' she said impatiently.

Cat called to her from the parlour. ‘Anna, c‘mon now we're late.'

‘Oh all right I'm coming,' she replied and ambled indoors with Tipper close at her heels.

‘Lay down now, boy, we won't be long,' Anna said stroking the dog's head. His sorrowful eyes told her he did not want to be left. ‘Look, Mummy, Tipper's really sad we're leaving him. Can't we take him with us?'

‘No, of course not. The flat is small enough without a dog, five children and three adults to squeeze in.'

Anna counted up the people on her fingers and turned to Cat.,

‘It's six children not five.'

‘No, Billy won't be comin' today, he's got to read up for his examination.'

‘Oh I see!
He's
allowed to stay behind but not
me
. I
hate
going there!'

‘Anna, what's got into ye? Auntie Maureen's always so kind to ye, and she makes those special little butterfly cakes for ye.'

‘Oh all right then. But do we have to stay for long?'

‘Aw c'mon now and stop fussin', we've a long walk so let's get goin'.'

All the way to the High Street Anna felt a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. She couldn't remember why she didn't like going to Uncle Reggie and Auntie Maureen's as she always liked it when she got there. She enjoyed playing with her cousins Charlie and little Louis, the youngest addition to their family, but it was invariably nicer when Uncle Reggie wasn't there. She hoped it was one of the days when he was out.

Cat knocked on the door to the flat over the butcher's shop that Reggie now owned. Apart from bones and scraps for Tipper, Reggie regularly gave them meat they couldn't afford.

Often Reggie called after the girls as they passed his shop on the way home from school. He would usually have a bundle of meat wrapped in paper for them to give Cat.

Anna couldn't work out why she resented him pushing the food on her, as her mother often reminded them, it was their salvation. But somehow she felt she would prefer to give up eating meat entirely rather than have to say thank you to him so often.

Maureen answered the door.

‘C'mon in, lovely to see ye again. Hello, Cat. Hello gels. What big gels ye're growin' into,' she laughed as the family trailed up the stairs to the flat.

‘Reggie,' she called, ‘put on the kettle will ye, we've a thirsty bunch of people here.'

Anna's heart sank – so Reggie was in!

Once upstairs Maureen rushed around tidying newspapers off chairs and plumping up cushions for Cat and the children.

‘Aw, don't be botherin' now about that Maureen, 'tis good of ye to ask us, and I don't see the point in worryin' about tidyin' up, t'will soon be messed up again.'

Cat sat down and picked up Reggie's youngest child, Louis.

‘Hello there, little Louis,' she crooned, rocking the child in her arms. ‘Shall I do Round and Round the Garden?'

Louis nodded so Cat began doing the game that he so loved her to do when they visited.

Reggie brought a tray of tea into the lounge and they sat chatting for a while.

Then Maureen told Cat that she was going home to Ireland in the summer with the boys to see her parents, but Reggie was staying behind as he had the shop to run.

‘Well that'll be grand for ye all; I know my parents love it when we go home. When are ye thinkin' of goin'?'

‘August, probably. I haven't actually let them know as they'll get too excited and Dada's heart isn't so good these days, so I don't want to tell them too soon.'

‘Well, Reggie, ye'll have to come and eat at our house when ye can while Maureen's away.'

‘Thanks, Cat, that would be nice – I'll keep you to that.' He didn't see the look of horror cross Anna's face, but Eileen did and resolved to ask her about it.

* * *

It was dark by the time they left Maureen and Reggie's, but the night was warm and it felt good to be out in the open. Cat suddenly stopped walking.

‘I've an idea,' she said. ‘Why don't we do a bit of a detour and visit Daddy's grave?'

Delighted with their change of route they set off to the churchyard at the crossroads of Eltham High Street and Well Hall Road.

As they opened the gate it creaked, and in the gloom the girls became agitated.

‘Suppose there's a ghost in there?' Eileen whispered.

‘Don't ye be so silly, there's no-one there at all, only yer sleepin' daddy,' Cat laughed.

‘I've got the heebie-jeebies,' Anna said and clung onto Cat's dress.

They ambled through the churchyard and by the light of the moon came upon Louis' grave.

They stood praying in the darkness for his soul and reminiscing about whatever they could about him, but the girls found it difficult. His memory was beginning to fade and neither of them could clearly remember his face.

Cat sniffed and wiped her nose on a handkerchief, knelt down and patted the soil as though Louis was just in bed and she was tucking in the covers.

‘Sleep well my love,' she whispered then stood, and clasping Elizabeth and Anna's hands she slowly strolled out of the churchyard as she had done so many times now since Louis had gone.

The following day, Cat received a registered letter from her sister Peggy and inside was the fare for the children to go on a visit to Fethard.

Billy and Eileen were very excited by the idea, but Anna became withdrawn and said she didn't want to go anywhere without her mother. So it was agreed that just the two of them would go once the school holidays arrived, and Cat would take Anna and Elizabeth to visit some other time.

Summer was approaching and Ned sat in the doorway of the old cottage, once the home of his parents, weaving the supple willow leaves in and out of the basket frames.

He had handed over total control of the farm to Tom who had taken to managing stock, buying, selling and making day-to-day decisions, like a duck takes to water. Ned helped his son when asked, but otherwise kept out of the way.

In the mornings he often busied himself making baskets from sallies growing along the riverbank, and he had begun sending some to England for sale.

From lunch time onwards he could usually be seen in O'Connell's Hotel passing the time of day, reading the newspaper or chatting to other old locals who, like himself, had retired.

Maeve and Ned had left their farmhouse just after Christmas in 1933 to make way for Tom and Norah's growing family; but settling in had not been easy for Maeve as she found the cottage too small, too damp, and far too near the Clashawley River for her liking.

Hardly a day went by without Ned hearing her muttering to herself about being put out to grass like some old donkey. When it rained she would snatch up her rosary and feverishly begin praying whilst keeping an eye on the swelling river lapping towards the back door of the cottage. She hated the water with a vengeance and feared more than anything that one night while they were in bed it would crash through the door and take them in their sleep to a watery grave.

Ned looked across the field and could just see the rooftop of their old home, Monroe, where he saw smoke twisting out of the chimney rising into the fresh spring air. A current of wind blew smoke in his direction, and he smelled the familiar aroma of burning peat; the scent of home.

He did not dwell on the fact that he missed his home because he liked the thought that Tom, Norah and their children now occupied the cottage he had been brought up in, and where he and Maeve raised their family. Ned accepted the fact that he and Maeve would live out their days in the smaller home, known as Granny's Cottage, until God called them to Him

Ned was, by and large, content with his lot. He had Tom and Norah nearby; and their two children Edward and Theresa were always running in and out as though it was their home too. The door was never locked and the children would crash through it each morning, filling their grandparent's days with delight. Even Maeve seemed content with the pattern of her days, so long as the children came to be with them each day.

Maeve put the kettle on to boil and went across the room to Ned.
‘I'll shut this door now, the weather is turnin' and I feel cold.'

‘Please yerself woman,' Ned said and pulled his stool further outside to continue basket making in the open. He stood for a while watching the river and lit up a cigarette, just as Edward turned onto the pathway leading to the cottage.

‘Well hello there, I expect ye've come to eat up Granny's special cake,' Ned said, ruffling the boy's hair. Edward smiled at his granddad.

‘Me ma said she'd be glad if she could borrow some sugar, sure she forgot to buy it when she was in town.'

‘C'mon inside and we'll see what Granny can find then,' Ned said, opening the door, but when he went into the room, Maeve was not there. She must be in the bedroom, he thought so went to open the door.

At first he thought the door must be locked, but how could it be when there was no lock on it? He pushed against it calling out.

'Maeve. Maeve! Will ye open the door, Edward is here after some sugar.'

Maeve did not reply, so he pushed against the door until it gave a little, but it felt as though there was something inside preventing him from opening it.