June had noticed Rory taking a great interest in the place and would probably have seen her open the drawer to get some change for his nan.
Even if it had been him, and thinking back he would be her first suspect, there was no proof.
Mac had gone to the city it had been three weeks and no word from the guards regarding any developments on the break in.
It was getting very near Christmas now and the evenings were dark and lonely. June remembered a time when she’d thought of the dark evenings as being cosy, curled up on the couch in front of a big roaring fire with Matt.
She wondered if he ever thought of her, there wasn’t a day went by that she didn’t wonder if she’d made the right decision in staying.
Her days seemed empty, there was something missing.
“Is Mr Mac Phearson about?” a sharp voice called out from the door brought June back to reality.
“Oh come in, no I’m afraid Mr Mac Phearson had to go out for an hour. Can I help?”
The guard took a notebook from his pocket.
“We have a development regarding the break in. Mrs Mac Phearson, is it?”
June smiled. “No, no. I just work here.”
The guard didn’t seem amused, he was a very straight-faced individual, she thought.
“Would you mind asking Mr Mac Phearson to give me a call when he gets back,” handing June a piece of paper on which he had written a phone number he grunted and went on his way. What a cold person, June thought.
It turned out there were just the one set of finger prints found, but they’d had nothing on file that matched and would be pursuing the matter further.
“And Mr Mac Phearson was a very foolish man to be leaving that kind of money lying around and maybe he’d learned his lesson.”
Mac smiled as he told June on his return from seeing the guard. “Got a right telling off I did, thought he might slap my hand at one stage,” they both laughed.
He may very well have learned, but it wasn’t a cheap lesson.
June decided not to mention Mrs Carey’s grandson, she could have been wrong although she had a feeling she was right but as Pop used to say, “Give him enough rope and sure he’ll hang himself, it was only a matter of time before he’d screw up. Can’t get away with that for too long!”
Chapter Twenty-Six
The local Community Centre was holding a Christmas party for the old folk on Christmas day. June was asked if she would like to help. Any other Christmas she would donate some pies and treats and that would be that, but this year she thought, Why not!
At least, she wouldn’t have to spend Christmas alone, well she had intended asking Walter over for Christmas dinner but it wouldn’t have been the same with just the two of them.
Poor Walter, never one to complain but would probably have been bored out of his tree. Yes she would join the old folk this year for Christmas dinner and help as well.
“Do I look alright?” Walter stood at June’s front door looking like a topper in his báinín jacket, shirt and tie.
“Sure I’d marry you myself,” June said as took his arm and walked down the garden path.
There was turkey and ham, and all the trimmings with Christmas pudding and mince pies for afters. There was even a bowl of punch that went down very well as they sat around stuffed and sleepy in the afternoon.
It didn’t seem like Christmas at home this year, not without the smell of turkey cooking on the day.
June hadn’t bothered to get one, she was never a big fan of turkey but she did miss the lovely Christmas smell.
It had been a lovely day though she had really enjoyed the company. As she walked Walter home, he being ever so slightly tipsy after the punch, they chatted about her nan and pop, and Lily.
“Christmas brings memories of days gone by,” Walter had a look of sincerity on his face mixed with sadness, June thought. “She was a wonderful woman, Lily, never known the days to be so long.”
June squeezed the old man’s arm, thin and frail.
“I know Walter, I know.”
There was no more to be said, his face said it all, he would bide his time until the day that they would be re-united again. Although very different circumstances, June could empathise with Walter, she missed Matt.
It was as if she was waiting, waiting for his return, though she knew there would be no return. She had sent him away for God’s sake—to follow his dream.
No, there would be no return she was sure of that.
It just felt like she was waiting, couldn’t move on in case. Perhaps in her heart she had hoped, even as she had sent him away perhaps she had hoped, he might return, might find that in following his dream, it would lead him back to her! Christmas came and went.
“Time and tide waits for no man,” Pop had always said that, there were no truer words.
Mac had invited June to a function held by the wholesalers, a fancy affair by the sounds of it.
“Probably be bored silly but you’d be doing me a big favour,” he’d leaned over the counter to ask her. The watery morning sun coming through the window catching the glint in his eyes. She’d hesitated, but just for a moment!
As the doorbell rang, for a split second June thought, What if, what if it was Matt?
Mac held a bunch of crocuses in front of his face as he stood at the door,
“Come in,” June blushed as he handed her the flowers, “Thanks Mac, they’re lovely.” Leaving the vase down on the table, she could feel his eyes on her as she moved. It had been ages since she’d dressed up to go out so she had put in a bit of effort to look good for Mac.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“You look wonderful,” holding her coat for her. Quite the gentleman, she thought. Mac was looking with admiration as they walked to the car.
Although never having met any of Mac’s friends in the wholesale business, June found them to be a very friendly, jolly bunch.
She’d had a lovely evening. Good food, good company, even had a dance with Mac at the end of the night.
Leaving the taxi running as he walked June to the door, Mac gave her a quick peck on the cheek and thanked her for the lovely evening.
“See you tomorrow.”
When inside, June smiled to herself, “Don’t need any more complications in my life,” she kicked off her shoes with relief. “Why is it that elegant shoes are never comfortable shoes?” and vowed never to wear them again.
Spring was in the air and the garden was coming to life, daffodils appeared through the weeds and June felt nothing but shame for having neglected what was once Nan’s pride and joy.
Not a big garden but June remembered the lovely smells in the summer time, Sweet Williams, Wall Flowers, Lilies and in the spring there were Daffodils and Crocuses.
She would take the time to do the garden just as soon as the weather would allow her.
It seemed to have been raining nonstop since Christmas.
Wasn’t nature wonderful, she thought, not one bit of attention had she given the daffodils this year and yet there they were an abundance of colour among the weeds.
Cared for by Mother Nature. Wouldn’t want to have been depending on me, June thought.
Greta had been taken ill, only two doors away June thought she’d make some of Nan’s chicken soup to cheer her.
According to Pop there was no better cure for anything from bunions to the plague.
Greta came to the door looking pale and sickly.
“Aw ’tis yourself, come in girl. I’m a bit under the weather.”
June closed the door behind her and followed Greta into the kitchen.
“I brought some chicken soup from Nan’s old recipe, Nancy was in, told me you were laid up.”
“That was very kind of you,” Greta had the kettle on the boil without even asking if June would like a cup of tea.
It was an automatic thing when someone called to Greta’s house, and one always went home with a few fresh eggs.
The hens were the only inc
ome she’d had, supplying the post office with fresh eggs on a daily basis, and sometimes delivering some to the neighbours nearby kept her going.
There was a time when her husband was alive that they would bring their eggs to the market on market day in the city.
“Your nan was a good woman. Wasn’t easy taking on an infant at her age, don’t know if I could have done it.”
Greta noticed the look on June’s face and knew she’d said too much.
“I’m sorry June, I shouldn’t have said that. My Joe, God be good to him, always said I should think before I speak. Sorry dear, see I went to school with your mother, we were best of friends in those days.”
June found it hard to believe that Greta and her mother could be of the same age. She looked so much older than her mother, but then she thought to herself, if one would look closer Greta’s grey hair had aged her.
She had quite a young face, June wanted to quiz her about her mother but instead she just assured Greta that there was no offence taken and that Nan had often spoke about things and she agreed that it can’t have been easy for her.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
As she took her cup to the sink and made her way to the door, June thanked Greta for the tea and wished her a speedy recovery.
Greta thanked her for the chicken soup and walked her to the door.
“Never could understand what Valerie saw in Roger but they did love each other.”
June walked towards the gate as Greta continued, “Himself and Hilda, that was his wife, sure they were like chalk and cheese, complete opposites. She came from a wealthy background, her folks had a business of some sort. Poor Roger, sure he was only living day to day like the rest of us, there was trouble in paradise long before your mother came along.”
As she walked back home, June thought about what Greta had said, it can’t have been easy she thought what with Nan and Pop getting on and her only a raw infant.
Apart from the shame of it alone, would want great energy to take on a baby at any age June was thinking.
“Did you say there was a cuppa in the pot?” Walter was returning from his Sunday morning stroll after mass.
June just out of bed, hadn’t been feeling too well over the weekend, reckoned she’d picked up Greta’s bug from her visit earlier on in the week.
She hadn’t locked the gate the night before and it had been swinging and banging all through the night with the wind. She’d come out in her dressing gown to close it when Walter passed by.
“Hi Walter, come on in. How are you?”
“Aw, do you know what it is but I’m not the better of seeing young Willie over the road. Ten o’clock on a Sunday morning and he staggering home without a care in the world. Must be out all night. I don’t know, and he having a couple of young-uns.”
June handed him his tea, “Just a drop of milk and no sugar ’cause you’re sweet enough.” They both laughed.
As often as she’d served him tea, Walter would still tell her the same thing.
Malcolm Mc Phearson, or Mac as he would say himself had turned out to be a nice enough sort June thought.
Having been working with him now for near on six months, she felt comfortable in his presence.
At first, it seemed strange, she missed Clodagh still.
She wondered how she was getting on, there had only been the one card since she’d gone.
June hoped she was okay she was so brave to just up sticks and go. Probably busy, she thought.
The evenings were getting longer and the sun worshippers were again beginning to gather along the quay.
“It’s my birthday Friday. Why don’t I take my best staff member for dinner to celebrate?” Mac always referred to June as his best staff member when he wanted a favour maybe to work on for an hour or take an awkward phone call or lock up when he wanted to meet friends in the city.
“Your only staff member,” June would reply.
“Ya, that would be nice,” she knew from a previous conversation that they were around the same age only a year or two in the difference. Mac being the younger.
So she thought to herself, He must be hitting the thirty mark.
She wondered about him, never a mention of a girlfriend or going out with anyone. Was none of her business anyway probably wouldn’t mention it to her if he was itself.
But why was he celebrating his birthday with a staff member and not his girlfriend!
On her lunch break, June decided to go into town and get something for Malcolm, something small just to mark the occasion. Strolling across the bridge she thought of Valerie, she remembered watching her on that day the first and last time she had met her mother.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
She wondered what she was doing at that time. Was she too strolling around the same shops perhaps thinking about June? The city was busy, June seldom went into town at lunchtime, and it was always the busiest time and seemed to her to be a waste of time when she could stroll in at any time.
Working at the post office gave her the freedom to do that because of her hours there. Didn’t pay very much but she was okay financially.
Nan and Pop had left her a place of her own and there were no huge bills as such. June always believed in living within her means Pop had taught her that.
He used to say, “Them lassies with their fancy cars and big houses, sure they must be up to their ears in debt.”
June had never learned to drive, neither had she the urge nor the need to drive. The city was within walking distance and sure if she wanted to venture any further there was always the train. The shops were full of bargain hunters with the summer sales on, she didn’t want to buy anything personal for Mac. Maybe a nice bottle of wine, she thought.
Not that she was any expert on choosing wine but she would ask the assistant for help.
Obviously noticing that June needed help the assistant approached her.
“Any particular taste? Dry, sweet, red white?”
If June was never a wine drinker, she wouldn’t be now either after that experience. The prices they charge for a bottle of wine, she thought.
Mac looked very handsome in his grey suit, his hair now streaked with grey at the temples was highlighted by his outfit, June thought as she peeped out of the window upstairs when the doorbell rang at seven o’ clock on the dot.
“Wow,” the expression on Malcolm’s face told her she too looked okay and the effort she had put in was worth it.
As they walked to the car, Malcolm held out his arm smiling, “May I?”
They both laughed and the evening turned out to be very enjoyable indeed.
He was lovely company, the awkwardness had passed, they worked well together too and he had always from day one had confidence in June.
Often asking her advice on new lines he was thinking of introducing into the grocery end of things in the post office.
She liked it when he’d consult her about stuff, Clodagh would always include her in her decisions regarding the post office but that was different, Clodagh was like family.
“June, is there, sorry it’s…”
June smiled, “Go on.”
Mac looked embarrassed, “Is there, well, someone special in your life?”
They had a giggle, “Mac, you don’t half get flustered sometimes. No well, not at the moment anyway. There was, but aw sure, that’s life isn’t it?”
“I’m sorry June, I shouldn’t have.”
June was a bit curious herself, had been now for a while, “And yourself? Any one special?”
Malcolm went a bright shade of red.
“Long story, but no, no there’s no one. Another drink?”
There was an awkwardness for a moment and then Mac went to the bar to call a drink, although June admitted to being stuffed and couldn’t manage another drink he insisted he wanted to toast his birthday.
“Another year older,” their glasses clashed and as if by impulse Mac reached across the table to kiss June on the lips.
; “Happy birthday Mac,” June wanted to kick herself for turning away, after all people do kiss on birthdays. Doesn’t mean wedding bells!
You fool, she thought to herself, you old fool.
Chapter Thirty
The car was left in town to be picked up the following day because Mac had been drinking and it being a lovely moonlit night they decided to walk back.
“Be good to walk off some of that meringue pie.”
June had created an awful embarrassing moment at the table and felt bad about it.
“Mac, I’m sorry. I don’t know why I do things sometimes. Sorry”
“That’s okay, June. Probably too much wine. Forget it.”
The town was alive with people of all ages out enjoying the night.
June didn’t often go into town at night and as she walked through the crowds and the buzz of people around she promised herself that she would make an effort and go out more.
As if!
Mrs Sheridan was standing at her gate. It is late, June thought, for her to be standing there.
“Goodnight Mrs Sheridan,” June spoke gently so as not to startle her as they approached.
“Oh, goodnight dear. Cheeky’s gone missing.”
Cheeky was Mrs Sheridan’s cat, she’d found him one morning in the garden covered in snow, she doted on him.
Her husband had been putting out the bin when he’d noticed the movement in the garden. She must have huddled up out of the cold and gotten covered by a fall of snow.
“We’d thought of naming her Snowy,” Mrs Sheridan continued, “on account of where she’d turned up, but she had such a cheeky look in her eyes we thought Cheeky suited her better. I wonder where she has gone.”
Although making light of the situation, June could see that Mrs Sheridan was indeed concerned, “Don’t worry she won’t have gone far, she’ll turn up,” and just as June had the words out of her mouth along came Cheeky.
“Where on earth have you been?” Her eyes alight with gladness, Mrs Sheridan cuddled her cat and bid them goodnight.
One Chance Page 6