“Hush, Clare. Don’t be difficult.”
“I’m not being difficult. I just want to know. If I am meant to do that, then tell me and I’ll do it. I just didn’t know.”
Agnes looked at her affectionately. “I don’t know where we got you. You’re brighter than the lot of us put together.”
Clare still looked mutinous.
“There are some things that are neither right nor wrong. You can’t have rules laid down for. Would you understand that?”
“Yes,” Clare said immediately, “I would. Like the Holy Ghost.”
“Like what?”
“Like the Holy Ghost. We have to believe in Him without understanding Him. He’s not a bird and He’s not a great wind. He’s something though, and that should be enough without understanding it.”
“I don’t think that’s the same at all,” said Agnes, troubled. “But if it helps you to understand the problems of trade in a small town, then for heaven’s sake, use it.”
It was eleven o’clock before they closed the door in O’Brien’s. Tom O’Brien had a pain across his back from bending and stretching and lifting. He had forgotten the summer pain and the constant tiredness. This was just the first week: there would be another ten like it, please God, if they were to make a living at all. He was behind in paying one of the creameries and the bacon factory always allowed people a bit of credit until the summer pickings were in. He sighed deeply, it was so hard to know about things. Last year everyone had wanted those shop cakes with the hard icing, this year he had only sold two of them and the rest were growing stale under his eyes.
Everything was so precarious nowadays, and a man with a wife and six children had nothing but worries morning, noon and night.
He worried about the two lads gone to England, particularly Tommy. He was so easily led, so slow to work things out. How would he survive at all in England where people were so smart and knew everything? And Ned, though he was a brighter boy, he was still very young, not sixteen until the summer. Tom O’Brien wished that he had a big business, one where his boys could have come in to work with him, gone to other towns and served their time in big groceries and then come home to Castlebay. But it was only a dream. This was an outpost and it wouldn’t be here at all, the community would have broken up and scattered long ago if it weren’t for the yearly influx of visitors that began in the first week of June and ended sharply on September first. Eleven weeks to make sense of the other forty-one weeks in the year. He called out to Agnes, wanting to know if there was any hot water.
“What do you want with hot water at this time of night?”
“There’s these bath salts we sell and there’s a picture of a man with an aching back on the front and its says he gets great relief by putting these in his bath,” he said simply.
Agnes read the packet too. “We’ll boil up some. Clare child, before you go to bed will you fill a couple of saucepans, and Chrissie. Chrissie?”
“I think she was doing some holiday work with Kath and Peggy,” Clare said automatically. She knew that the amusements had started for the summer and the three were dolled up to the nines with their painted toenails freed from summer socks.
“That one should be running the country with all the homework and holiday work she does,” grumbled Tom O’Brien. “Why is it that she gets these bad reports every term, I might ask.”
“They’re fierce strict up in the convent now, it’s not like the Brothers. They say awful things about everyone.” Clare was struggling with the saucepans. One way to buy an easy life was to keep Chrissie’s cover, that way she got to stay out later and she tortured Clare a bit less.
Clare’s mother was opening the packet of bath salts. “It’s hard to think that it would work,” she said doubtfully. “Go on into the bathroom, Tom, and we’ll see if it’s any good.”
Clare was still there; the youngsters were asleep a long time; Chrissie would come home when the amusements had closed down, when she had won something on the roll a halfpenny table and maybe had a ride on the bumpers. Tommy and Ned were asleep in their digs in Kilburn.
“Go on up to bed, Clare child. You’ve been a great help today,” her mother said. “I’ve got to fire a bit of energy into your father, we can’t have him getting pains and aches in the first week of the summer season.”
Clare heard them laughing in the bathroom and it sounded comforting to Clare as she got ready for bed. She looked out the window and saw Gerry Doyle walking down toward the beach with a very pretty girl, a visitor. That would annoy Chrissie if she were to hear of it. She saw a crowd who had been in Craig’s Bar carrying brown bags of bottles with them, they were heading off the Far Cliff Road on the other side of the bay; they had probably rented a house there. In the distance the music of the dance could be heard. That’s where everyone was. Chrissie was dying to go, but not until she was sixteen; it was two years and five months away. The moon made a pointed path out over the sea, Castlebay was coming alive for the summer.
The Nolans arrived on the train from Dublin and the Powers had driven to the station in the town twenty miles from Castlebay to meet them. Dr. Power called a porter immediately when he saw the amount of luggage that was assembling beside them. There would be two cars, the Powers’ own Ford and a taxi. Sheila and Jim Nolan looked around them with interest and then spotted David running toward them. There were a lot of handshakes and much giggling from Caroline Nolan and her school friend Hilary.
Mrs. Nolan wore a very flowing sort of dress with huge red and green flowers on it as if she were going to a garden party of some type. She glanced around, sniffing the air as if suspecting it might be germ laden.
Dr. Power took both of her hands in his and his face was wide with welcome, then he shook the hands of Jim and said what a pleasure it had been having their son to stay, and how everyone in Castlebay was waiting to welcome the whole family; he said his wife was organizing tea in the rented house for them, otherwise she would be here too.
Jim Nolan was a thin, fair-haired man of a slightly distracted appearance. He also had a role in watching out for the eccentricities of his wife. Sheila had a face which must have been that of a beauty when she was younger. Even now approaching her late forties she was handsome, with pale eyes and a disconcerting stare. She looked long and hard at Paddy Power.
“You are a good man. You are a man we could trust,” she said after a pause.
Dr. Power was well used to intense stares like this. In his line of work he came across them regularly.
“I very much hope so, because you’ll need to rely on me, on us for a bit until you get used to the ways of our strange country parts.”
With that, he shooed them gently into his car with most of the luggage. David was to organize the taxi for the young people and Breeda, the Nolans’ maid. There was a lot of waving and goodbyeing, until they would meet again in twenty miles’ time in Castlebay.
It seemed to David that Caroline and Hilary seemed a bit scornful of everything they saw. They wanted to know where was the nearest big town to Castlebay, and giggled when they were told that they were in it. They asked when would they be on the main road and giggled even more when they learned they had been on it for three miles. They asked about tennis and were very disappointed to know that there wasn’t a proper club, but they could play at the hotel. How did you meet people if there wasn’t a club? they wondered, and David found himself apologizing almost. Eventually, the taxi driver who also drove a hearse and had a half share in a pub, took over from him and explained Castlebay in much more attractive terms, talking about the quality who came every year and how the place was much sought after. English couples came too, often middle-aged people with a car and a dog and golf clubs. Fancy them coming all the way to Castlebay when they had the whole of their own country and Scotland and Wales to choose from. David realized that this was a much better way to go than his own style of excusing things. He brightened up and told them about the golf club and how this year he and Nolan were thinking of learning. You
could hire clubs there.
Caroline and Hilary giggled and thought this was great, they might learn too.
You didn’t really get a good view of the sea until you came over Ben-nett’s Hill and David looked at them eagerly to see if it pleased them. Their faces seemed to say it all, so he sat back happily and exchanged conspiratorial winks with the taxi driver.
The girls were silenced for once as the whole coast spread before them . . . the tide was out so the beach spread out like a huge silver carpet, the headlands at each end looked a sharp purple and as they came to where the roads divided there was no need to explain anymore, Castlebay explained itself. They drove down the main street—Church Street—with the big church on the right, past all the shops, well-painted and decorated for the summer, some of them with low whitewashed walls where holiday-makers sat and chatted in the sun. People were eating ice creams and carrying beach balls and children had rubber rings and fishing nets. You could smell the sea. It was like paradise.
The taxi driver drove slowly down Church Street so that they could savor it all; the girls looked excitedly from the front of the big dance hall, to the entrance of Dillon’s Hotel. They saw Dwyers’ the butchers with a big notice saying “Get your holiday meat here.” Everyone seemed to be talking to each other or waving or calling, it was as if all the people on the street going down to the sea knew each other.
Majestically the taxi turned right at the Cliff Road so that they could have a good view of the beach.
“There’s Gerry Doyle!” cried Nolan, delighted to recognize him. “Who is that he’s with?”
“That’s his sister. I told you about her, Fiona,” David said.
The Doyles waved and James Nolan let out all his breath in a great rush. “She’s gorgeous,” he said.
The girls in the back were annoyed. They didn’t have to say anything, you could just sense it in the way they rustled.
“How are we going to become great golfers if you’re going to sigh like that over the first girl you see in Castlebay?” David said.
“Quite right.” Caroline was approving. “We don’t want the holiday spoiled by silliness and falling in love.”
“No indeed,” said Hilary very vehemently.
It was totally unconvincing but there wasn’t time to debate it because everyone was getting out of the taxi and there was a joyous reunion on the lawn. David noticed that his mother had had her hair done, and was wearing her best dress. Bones was not there; he must be tied up at home on the very accurate assumption that he would not lend any tone to the gathering. The sun was shining down on the garden and Molly had brought Nellie with her in order to help serve a welcoming tea. There were canvas chairs and stools out in the garden, the cups were arranged on a tray in the porch and there were sandwiches and bridge rolls cut in half with egg on some and ham on others. There was apple tart too, on two large plates. Nellie had a small white hat on as well as her apron. James introduced her to Breeda who immediately took off her hat and coat and went into the kitchen to help.
Mrs. Nolan was sitting back in her chair, eyes closed with pleasure. “What a wonderful welcome,” she said. “What a beautiful place. James, we are lucky that you have marvelous friends like these to make it all possible.” Molly Power reddened with pleasure.
“Heavens, it’s very small and simple after Dublin,” she said in a tinkly voice that David didn’t often hear.
“It’s heavenly,” said Mrs. Nolan. “And the flies are going to be quite manageable, I do believe.”
“The flies?” Molly was startled.
“Yes, but one has to expect them. I’ve been watching. You get about one bluebottle to eight flies. That’s not too bad, is it?”
“No, I suppose not.” Molly was puzzled.
“We brought quite a lot of muslin with us of course, but in the end we have to realize this is holidays, this is the great outdoors and . . . well they can’t kill us?”
“Er . . . no?”
“The flies. They can’t kill us. And I think this place is heavenly.”
And that put the seal on the summer. Dr. Power had told her that it was one of the healthiest places in the world because of the sea and the ozone and the gulf stream, and goodness knows what else he had added for good measure; so now Nolan’s mother need have no fear of fleas or damp or anyone catching anything. Mrs. Conway’s sister had come down to inspect the professional people from Dublin and had been slightly overawed to see eight people on the lawn of Crest View being served tea by two maids. But her curiosity got the better of her so she came in. She was given a chair, a cup of tea and fulsome thanks from Mrs. Nolan as having provided the best house in Castlebay. Mrs. Conway’s sister took everything in, asked about eight searching questions and left to go to the post office and fill them in on the new arrivals. Dr. Power had given his lecture about drowning. Every year he said for the past fourteen years there had been a death in the summer. All except one of them had been people who had just arrived; the accident had happened in the first few days, before they got used to the terrible undercurrent that pulled you out and sideways after a big wave. There were notices all round the beach but people didn’t believe them. There was a lifeguard—but there was only so much he could do and if a bather was swept out by huge waves, the call often didn’t go up until it was too late. Dr. Power was very grave. Caroline was enraged by the warning; she pointed out that she had had swimming lessons in the baths in Dunlaoghaire. Dr. Power said that some of the people whose purple bodies he had seen had been swimming in other places for thirty years. Castlebay had a very very strong undertow and he would be a poor man to welcome them to the place if he didn’t tell them that. He was solemn and they all fell quiet for a moment. It was enough to make it sink in. Dr. Power turned his attention to the golf club then, and the chance of a game with Mr. Nolan and whether they should make the boys junior members for the summer and get them lessons from Jimmy the Pro. Mrs. Nolan wondered was there a nice hairdresser in the place, since Mrs. Power looked so elegant there must be. Nellie and Breeda were in the kitchen having a chat about the dance, the amusements and the pictures.
Caroline stretched and said she felt filthy after the journey, would anyone mind if she changed? She and Hilary dragged cases upstairs and settled into their room. They came down not long after; Caroline had her hair loose now, not tied back behind her neck. It was curly a bit like Fiona Doyle’s, but not as luxuriant. She wore a yellow shirt and white shorts. She looked really smashing.
“Will you show me the town of Castlebay?” she asked David.
It would be very nice to be seen with this lovely thing in white shorts and yellow shoes to match her shirt. He would love people to look as he took her for a tour. But it would have been bad manners.
“Sure, I will,” he said, deliberately misunderstanding her. “Let’s all get our swimming things and meet here in ten minutes and I’ll take the conducted tour to the beach.”
David thought that Caroline was a little put out. Great, he thought, she fancies me.
It must have rained some days. There had to be clouds and a wind would definitely have come up at high tide. But none of them remembered it. Hilary said it was the best holiday she ever had in her life and since she and Caroline had a fight the following term and were not best friends anymore, it was her first and last time in Castlebay. Mrs. Nolan grew stronger and got browner every day; she and Molly Power became firm friends and even took tennis lessons at the hotel in the early mornings when there weren’t many people about. It was something they both wished they had done in their youth, but it didn’t matter, they were catching up now. Nolan’s father stayed for two weeks, then had to go back to work, but he came down every weekend.
They had their lunch outside almost every day and David usually ate with them. On Sundays they came to lunch at the Powers’, a proper lunch with roast beef or two chickens, and soup first and pudding afterward. And when the trippers had to eat oranges or try to boil cups of tea for themselves on the beac
h, the Powers and the Nolans could just walk up the cliff either to the doctor’s house or to Crest View, and Nellie or Breeda would serve a real tea with sandwiches and biscuits and apple tart. It was heaven.
They went for picnics too, and because the Nolans had a primus stove they often cooked sausages which tasted much better in the open air. Mrs. Nolan couldn’t be told that they fried sausages on their own—she was afraid of conflagrations—but they kept the primus in the Powers’ garage so that there was never any fuss.
It was the first summer for a long time that nobody drowned in Castlebay. One child did get into difficulties but Dr. Power made him vomit up all the seawater and in an hour the incident was almost forgotten. A woman fell and broke her hip on the path going down to the beach and Dr. Power went out in his shirtsleeves and hammered in a board nailed to a stick saying Very very dangerous path. The Committee didn’t like it at all, and wanted it removed. Dr. Power said he was the one who had to pick up the pieces when people got injured and that if anyone removed his sign he would call the Guards. Eventually the Committee arranged a neater sign, properly painted and agreed to spend some money next year in making the path and steps less perilous.
Clare watched it all from the shop. It was like a different world to her, these carefree people with different clothes every day. Caroline Nolan, who had brown legs and white shorts, must have had seven different-colored blouses. She was like a rainbow, and her friend Hilary was the same, and they were always laughing and the boys all stood round and laughed too when they were there. There were the Dillon boys from the hotel, and Bernie Conway’s brother Frank, and David Power and James Nolan, and of course Gerry Doyle. Normally Gerry didn’t join anyone’s crowd, but he often seemed to be passing by, or perched on his bike leaning against the wall chatting to them.
They seemed to have endless money too, Clare noticed. Hilary bought ice creams three or four times a day, and that Caroline thought nothing of buying a bottle of shampoo one day and Nivea Creme the next and three fancy hair slides the day after. Imagine having so much pocket money that you didn’t even have to think before you bought things like that.