‘Maura? Pregnant! I don’t believe it.’
He held up his hands defensively.
‘I could be wrong,’ he said.
‘She’s a fool. Gerry O’Sullivan will never marry her …’ Nessa had let it slip out.
‘Aha … so it’s not just a question of loving each other. It’s a question of the chap marrying the girl, is it?’
Nessa had lost that one. ‘I must be off,’ she said.
She barely made it upstairs on shaking legs and went into her room. There she found her sisters Catherine and Nuala starting up guiltily from the dressing table where they had been reading her diary.
‘I thought you were meant to be at the reception desk,’ Catherine said, flying immediately to the attack.
‘We hadn’t read anything private really,’ begged Nuala, who was younger and more frightened.
Frightened she had reason to be.
Nessa Ryan, eighteen and desired by the most handsome man in Ireland, drew herself up to her full height.
‘You can explain all that later,’ she said, taking the key out of the inside of the door. ‘I’m locking you in until I find Mother.’
‘Don’t tell Mam,’ roared Nuala.
‘Mam won’t like what you’ve been up to,’ Catherine threatened.
But Nessa had the upper hand. She had written nothing in her diary, it was all in the back of her shorthand notebook which never left her side.
She had been coming up to write more, to tell herself of the passion in his voice, the tingles she had felt when he held her wrist, how he had said that he could love her.
She ignored the pleas and lamentations from her room and set off to find her mother.
In the corridor she met Maura Brennan carrying sheets.
‘Is everything all right, Maura?’ she asked.
‘Why do you ask?’
‘Well, I don’t know. You look different.’
‘I am different. I’m getting married next week to Gerry. I haven’t told everyone else. It was only just arranged.’
‘Married?’
‘I know. Isn’t it great!’
Nessa was dumbfounded. Perhaps there was a different set of rules, perhaps fellows did marry you if you went to the Old Rock with them. Maybe her mother and the nuns and Catholic Truth Society pamphlets had it all wrong. She pulled herself together.
‘That’s great, Maura,’ she said. ‘Congratulations.’
Nessa found her mother, and told her of the two criminals locked in the bedroom.
‘Give them a very bad punishment,’ she ordered.
‘Did they find anything to read, anything they shouldn’t have?’ Her mother’s eyes were anxious.
‘If I have to say to you once more that there is nothing to find, nothing to discuss, I will go mad.’ The words were almost shouted.
To her surprise her mother looked at her admiringly.
‘You know, I think Richard may be good for you after all. You’re getting to be confident at last. You’ll be a leader yet.’
It was true. She did feel more in control. She was delighted to find that her mother took such a strong stand with Catherine and Nuala. And so, unexpectedly, did her father.
‘A person must be allowed to have their private life and their dreams,’ he told the two sulking girls, who were allowed no outings for a week. ‘It’s a monstrous thing to invade someone’s life of dreams.’
‘There was nothing there,’ Catherine said.
‘To say that is making it worse still.’
The two girls were startled.
There was Nessa, usually the one in trouble, Nessa who had been making calf’s eyes at Niall Hayes’s cousin, and all she was getting was praise for doing something as dangerous as locking them in a bedroom.
‘Suppose there had been a fire?’ Catherine even suggested as a possibility.
She got little support.
‘Then you would have burned to death,’ said their mother.
Eddie Barton came in sometimes for a chat.
‘Are you doing a line with Richard Hayes?’ he asked Nessa.
‘What’s a line?’
‘I don’t know, I often wondered. But are you?’
‘No I’m not. He comes in and out. He’s very handsome, probably too handsome for me.’
‘I know what you mean,’ Eddie said unflatteringly.
‘Thanks a lot, friend.’
‘No, I didn’t mean that. You’re fine-looking and you’ve got much better-looking than when we were all young, honestly …’ Eddie was flustered now and he saw he was making gestures to show how much better-looking Nessa had got. Gestures that indicated a bosom and a small waist. But she didn’t seem offended. ‘Looks are important, aren’t they?’ He seemed anxious.
‘I suppose so, though people keep saying they’re not.’
Eddie was running his hand through his spiky hair. ‘I wish fellows improved, all fellows, like all girls seem to.’
‘Aren’t you a grand-looking fellow, Eddie?’ Her voice was encouraging and light, she thought.
‘Don’t make fun of me.’ His face was red.
‘I’m not.’
‘Yes you are. I’ve hair like God knows what, I’m pushing a brush around bloody Dunne’s all day. Who’d look at me?’
He banged out of the hotel, leaving Nessa mystified. As far as she knew Eddie had never asked any girl in Shancarrig out, and had shown no interest at all in any of the females around the place. He did come in from time to time to make mysterious phone calls to Scotland. It was too hard to understand, and anyway she had far more important things on her mind.
Richard took Nessa to the pictures in the town in his uncle’s car.
‘He lets you drive this?’
‘He doesn’t go out at night.’
‘Niall never drove it.’
‘Niall never asked.’
Niall Hayes was staying with a schoolfriend of his. Together they were going to a three-week course in bookkeeping. They hated it. Niall had sent several letters and postcards to Nessa saying how dreary it was. He hoped university would be better.
‘I think Niall fancies you desperately,’ Richard said as he kissed Nessa in his uncle’s car.
She drew away.
‘I don’t think so,’ she said, cool, ungiggly. Her mother was right. She had grown up a lot since Richard had come to Shancarrig.
‘Oh I think he does. Doesn’t he take you to the pictures? Doesn’t Niall plan journeys to the Old Rock with you like I do?’ He repeated his own words about his younger cousin.
‘Niall never asked,’ said Nessa.
‘Niall will be back tomorrow, Ethel was telling me,’ Mrs Ryan said to Nessa.
‘That should shake the town to its foundations,’ Nessa said.
‘You and he were always good friends.’ Her mother’s voice was mild so Nessa became contrite.
‘That’s true, we were. He’s got very mopey though, Mam. Not easy to talk to.’
‘Everyone doesn’t have the charm of his cousin Richard.’
‘Richard’s normal. He’s nice to people, he’s pleasant. He’s not always grousing and groaning about things the way Niall is.’
‘Maybe Niall has something to grouse and groan about.’
‘What? What any more than the rest of us?’
‘Well, his best girl is starry-eyed about his cousin, his place in the firm isn’t nearly as secure as it used to be … and he doesn’t have a wonderful understanding mother like you do. He has dreary old Ethel.’
They laughed as they sometimes could nowadays like sisters, like friends.
‘What would you do for Niall if you were his friend?’ Nessa asked. She thought she saw her mother watching her very carefully, but she couldn’t be sure.
‘I’d encourage him to fight for his place over there. He’s Bill’s son. It’s his business. I’d tell him that there are only a few chances and you should take them. Oh, I suppose I’d go on a bit about letting grass grow under your feet
.’
‘He mightn’t listen to me.’
‘No. People often don’t listen when others are out for their good.’
‘Did Dad listen to you?’
‘Ah, yes. But that was different, I loved your father. Still do.’
‘I don’t love Niall, but I am very fond of him.’
‘Then don’t let him get walked on,’ said Breda Ryan.
Nessa invited Niall to come over to the hotel and have a drink with her. It felt very grown up.
‘You look great,’ he said.
‘Thanks, Niall. You look fine too.’
‘I meant pretty like …’ he said.
‘What work are you doing in the office?’ She changed the subject.
‘Filing! Taking things out of torn envelopes and putting them into non-torn envelopes. God, Dinny Dunne could do that on one of his good days.’
Niall was full of misery and Nessa was full of impatience. Why hadn’t he the fire to get up and go, the sheer charm of his cousin? They were the sons of brothers, after all. Richard’s father must have been the one with the spirit.
Richard had told his uncle that a younger man should go around on home visits, which meant that he had the use of the car and could be out all day. Who knew how long it took to make a will or to get the details in a right-of-way claim? Who could measure how many hours it might involve talking to a publican about the extinguishing of a licence or to a woman about a marriage settlement involving a farm?
Richard was sunny and cheerful to everyone.
If he had been asked to do the files he would have made it into the most prestigious job in the office. Why could Niall not see this? Why did he hunch his shoulders and look defeated? Why didn’t he throw back his head and laugh?
‘Did you see much of Richard while I was away?’ Niall asked, cutting across her thoughts.
‘He’s been around, he’s been very lively.’
‘He’s not reliable, of course,’ Niall said.
‘Don’t be such a tell-tale, Niall.’ Her lightness of voice hid her annoyance. She wanted to hear nothing that would puncture her idea of Richard Hayes, no silly family story of shame or disgrace.
‘It’s just that you should know.’
‘Oh, I know all about him,’ she said airily.
‘You do?’ Niall seemed relieved.
‘A girl in every town. We even had that Elaine down from Dublin last week. No, there are no secrets.’
‘Elaine was here? After all that happened!’
‘Right in front of your house. Dropped him off from a real posh car.’
‘There’ll be hell to pay if anyone knows that. She was the one.’
‘The one?’
‘The one that had the … the one who got into … the one.’
‘Oh yes, I supposed she was.’ Nessa’s heart was leaden. Niall didn’t have to finish any of his sentences. The stories had gone before, the judge’s daughter who was reported to have been pregnant.
Imagine her coming down to Shancarrig, pursuing Richard after all that.
She must be pretty desperate.
‘So that’s all right.’ Niall looked at Nessa protectively, as if he was relieved that he didn’t have to rescue her from a quagmire of misunderstanding.
‘We’re all fine here, it was a lovely summer. You sound as if you had a terrible time.’ She led him into a further catalogue of his woes so that she could follow her own line of thought. Surely Richard couldn’t still be involved with this girl. Then of course it was known that this girl, unlike Nessa, would go to bed with him. And had.
Is this all he wanted? Surely he wanted other things – fun and chat, and kissing, and a girl who was seven years younger than him who looked like Diana the huntress?
If only there was someone to ask. But there was no one.
On Maura Brennan’s wedding day Leo suggested they go to the church.
‘Maura won’t like it. She doesn’t want to mix because of working in the hotel.’
‘That’s pure rubbish,’ Leo said. ‘It’s just your mother who doesn’t want her to mix. Let’s go.’
As they sat waiting for the sad little ceremony to begin Nessa was pleased to see Niall Hayes and Eddie Barton come in as well.
‘I got an hour off from the desperate Dunnes,’ Eddie whispered – he worked for the more respectable branch of the family in Foxy’s uncle’s hardware shop. He seemed very miserable about it.
‘I’m allowed out from sticking labels on envelopes,’ Niall said.
‘I’m meant to be at the typing course but I told my mother we had a day off. I’m watched like a hawk,’ Nessa complained.
‘We weren’t the most successful class ever to come out of Shancarrig school, were we?’ asked Leo with a little laugh.
‘Well, at least the rest of us …’ Nessa stopped. She had remembered before that Leo had looked very upset when she had been referred to as a lady of leisure.
Leo flashed her a smile of gratitude. They sat in supportive silence, the four of them, as they watched their schoolfriend Maura, pregnant and happy, marry Gerry O’Sullivan, small, handsome, with one best man but no other friend or family in the church.
‘He doesn’t look very reliable,’ whispered Niall.
‘Jesus, Mary and Holy Saint Joseph, who do you think is reliable these days?’ Nessa hissed.
‘I am, for what it’s worth.’ He looked at her and suddenly she saw that he did like her, much more than in the sort of hang-dog dependent way she had thought. Niall Hayes was keen on her. It didn’t give her the kind of boost that she had thought it might. In the days when nobody fancied her she would love to have had a few notches on her gun, affections to play with, hearts to break.
But Niall was too much of a friend for that.
‘Thank you,’ she said very simply in a whisper.
Maura was delighted with the present they bought her, a little glass-fronted cabinet. Leo had remembered Maura saying that she would love to collect treasures and display them in a cabinet. There were tears of joy in her eyes when they delivered it to the cottage where she would be living – only a stone’s throw from where her father still fell home drunk every night.
‘You’re great friends,’ she said, her voice choked.
Nessa felt a blanket of guilt almost suffocate her. For years Maura had been working in Ryan’s Hotel and hardly a sentence exchanged between them. If only she had the courage of a Leo Murphy she would have taken no heed of offending her mother, of crossing boundaries of familiarity between staff and owners.
But she did have courage these days and she would show it, use it. When she got back to the hotel her mother asked where the festivities were going to be held.
‘You know that it will be a few drinks in Johnny Finn’s and whatever bit of cold chicken poor Maura managed to put out on plates for those that will drag themselves back to her cottage for it.’
‘Well, she should have thought of all that …’ her mother began.
‘No she shouldn’t, she should be having a reception here by right. She was my schoolfriend, she and Gerry both work here. Anyone with a bit of decency would have given them that at least.’
Breda Ryan was taken aback.
‘You don’t understand …’
‘I don’t like what I do understand. It’s so snobby, so ludicrous. Does it make us better people to be seen to be superior to Maura Brennan from the cottages? Is this what you always wanted, a place on some kind of ladder?’
‘No. That’s not what I always wanted.’ Her mother was calm and didn’t show the expected anger at being shouted at in the front hall of the hotel.
‘Well, what did you want then?’
‘I’ll tell you if you take that puss off your face … and stop shouting like a fishwife. Come on.’ Her mother was talking to her like an equal. They walked into the bar.
‘Conor, why don’t you take a fiver from the till and go up to Johnny Finn’s to buy a few drinks for Gerry and Maura?’
Nes
sa’s father looked up, pleased.
‘Didn’t I only suggest …?’
‘And you were right. Go on now while they’re still sober enough to know you’re treating them. Nessa and I’ll look after the bar.’
They watched as Conor Ryan moved eagerly across to the festivities, hardly daring to believe his good luck. Nessa sat still and waited to be told. Mrs Ryan poured two small glasses of cream sherry, something that had never happened before. Nessa decided to make no comment; she raised the glass to her lips as if she and her mother had been knocking back drinks for years.
‘People want things at different times. I wanted a man called Teddy Burke. I wanted him from the moment I saw him when I was sixteen until I was twenty-one. Five long years.’ Nessa looked at this stranger sipping the sherry; she was afraid to speak. ‘Teddy Burke had a word for everyone, but that’s all it was … a word … I thought it was more. I thought I was special. I built a life of dreams on it. I couldn’t eat. I lost my health and my looks, such as they were. They sent me away to do a domestic economy course.
‘Do you know, I can’t really remember those years. I suppose I must have followed the course – I got my exams and certificates – but I only thought of Teddy Burke.’ She paused for such a long time that Nessa felt able to speak.
She spoke as a friend, as an equal. ‘And did he know, did he have any idea …?’
‘I don’t think so, truly. He was so used to everyone admiring, I was just one more.’ Her mother’s eyes were far away as she sat there in the empty hotel bar, her dark hair back in a loose coil with a mother-of-pearl clasp on it. Her pale pink blouse had its neat collar out over her dark pink cardigan – she looked every inch the successful businesswoman. This story of a thin frightened girl loving a man for five years – a man who didn’t know she existed – was hard to believe.
‘So anyway, one day I was told that Teddy Burke was going to marry Annie Lynch, the plainest girl for three parishes, with a bad temper and a cast in her eye. Everything changed. He was marrying her for her land, for her great acres running down to the lakes and over green valleys, for the fishing rights, for the stock. A man as handsome and loving as Teddy Burke could trade everything for land.
‘It made me wonder what I really wanted.
‘And I went to a cousin’s wedding and met your father and I decided that I wanted to go far from where I lived, where I would remember Teddy Burke’s laugh and his way with people. I decided that I wanted to make your father strong and confident like Teddy was when he got the land, like Annie Lynch always was because she had the land … I put my mind to it.’