Dublin's Fair City

by Cathy Mansell

  ‘I don’t think that would help, Mary. Besides, there’s plenty of jobs going begging in tonight’s paper.’ She circled one. ‘They’re looking for an assistant in the laboratory at the Cape Hill Brewery.’

  ‘There yea goo then. Why don’t yea apply?’

  A change of job wasn’t ideal so soon after arriving in England, but if Alan continued his animosity towards her, she would have no alternative. ‘I like Val, but the work is repetitive and boring.’ Aileen sighed. ‘I want something more challenging.’

  ‘I know what yea mean. When I first came over, I used to work at the nuts and bolts factory. When Ken died, he left me a few quid, enough to put a down payment on this place.’ She smiled. ‘Now, that was a challenge. I was so busy I didn’t have time to feel sorry for meself.’

  ‘It must have been lonely. Did you ever feel like going back to Dublin?’

  ‘Yea, but this is my ‘ome now. I’ve ‘appy memories of Ken here.’

  Aileen nodded. She didn’t want to spend the rest of her days alone without her family. She still felt the pain of losing her ma, and the deep hurt left by her da’s rejection. Dermot’s letters consoled her, and it was reassuring to know that he, at least, missed her.

  ‘No news from your da then?’

  Aileen shook her head. She didn’t want to discuss him. It only made her angry.

  ‘Look, Aileen, I’ve been thinking about what you asked me, about your ma, like. Just to set your mind at rest, why don’t yea get in touch with the nursing ‘ome where yea were born? They should have records.’

  Aileen folded the newspaper and placed it back in the rack. ‘I’ve thought about it, Mary. But I can’t do much from here, can I?’ She sat forward and cupped her face. ‘Why did Ma go private? Most of my school friends were born at the Rotunda!’

  Mary put down her knitting. ‘Your da only wanted the best for Jessie. He booked her in for a week.’ She laughed. ‘Sure, I remember when she brought you ‘ome. You were a lovely little thing. Everyone doted on yea.’

  ‘Do you remember the name of the nursing home?’

  ‘I’m afraid not. Your ma wasn’t in there long enough for me to visit. She checked out before your da got to pick her up.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Sure, that was typical of Jessie, she loved her own ‘ome and she couldn’t wait to get back and show you off.’

  Aileen smiled. That was true. Ma had loved her home. ‘Can you remember where the baby clinic was?’

  Mary placed her knitting on her lap. ‘I think it was somewhere in Rathgar, or was that Rathmines? I’m not sure, love. It was a long time ago.’ She picked up her knitting. ‘As I remember, it was quite expensive at the time and might not be there anymore.’

  ‘I’d like to go there, see what I can find out.’

  ‘Hang about, yea’ve only been here five minutes.’

  ‘I don’t mean right now, Mary. But when I do, will you keep my room?’

  ‘Course I will. Don’t go getting your hopes up, love. As your da said, when people are dying, they’ve been known to hallucinate, even say things that don’t make sense.’

  * * *

  During the week, Aileen noticed a change in Alan’s attitude. He addressed her by her name for the first time in days. Even so, she couldn’t look at him without thinking of how he had treated her and the things he had said. He hadn’t apologised, and she guessed he wasn’t capable of such pleasantries. However, she was happy that he was now writing the orders clearly and appeared to have stopped blaming her.

  ‘Whatever did you say to him, Val?’

  ‘I told him I knew about Bella’s letter, and he said he was over that now. When I asked him why he was taking it out on you, he said, “So what? It was only a bit of banter”.’

  ‘He’s got a nerve. Banter, my eye.’

  ‘I think he felt threatened when you stood up to him. He won't want to lose his job. But don’t expect him to apologise.’

  Aileen was furious. ‘I hope he keeps out of my way then.’ She placed a sheet of paper between the silver rollers of her typewriter. Any conversation she had with him in the future would be purely work-related.

  On Friday afternoon, Miss Grimshaw asked Aileen about working Saturday morning again, and she jumped at the chance. Time-and-a-half for working Saturday would boost her wage packet.

  ‘It’s much the same as last time,’ the older woman said. ‘The workload has increased and business in booming. But you won’t be on your own this time, even if I have to come in myself.’

  * * *

  On Saturday morning, Roy’s car was already parked in the yard when she arrived. Alan walked towards her, clutching a wad of orders, and pushed them towards her without speaking.

  ‘I’m not typing orders today. I’m upstairs.’

  ‘I know that! Just put them on the desk for Monday.’

  If he expected her to do so without please, or thank you, he was sadly mistaken. She thrust them back at him. ‘Do it yourself.’ When she walked away, he uttered an expletive.

  She glared back at him then continued upstairs. Roy greeted her in his usual friendly way. An older woman, whom Aileen hadn’t met before, was sorting through the pile of invoices. ‘Hello, is this your first day?’ Aileen smiled.

  ‘Yes, I’m from the agency. Miss Grimshaw booked me to help out this morning, so I’m all yours,’ she said. Aileen was glad to have someone to help, with so much work to get through. And they even had time for a tea break.

  Roy appeared busy, making numerous trips down to the yard while Aileen and the woman got on with folding invoices and putting them inside brown window envelopes.

  By eleven thirty, the letters were franked, bundled, and ready to go, so Aileen pulled on her coat. ‘I’ll get off now to catch the post,’ she told the woman.

  Roy was on the phone; his briefcase open on the desk. Alongside his paperwork, Aileen glimpsed a Vernon’s Pools coupon. So he was a gambling man. She smiled to herself. ‘I’m off now,’ she called, as he replaced the phone.

  Aileen had reached the yard when he caught up with her. ‘I might as well drop you off at the post office.’

  ‘It’s okay, Roy.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘I’ve plenty of time.’

  ‘Don’t be silly. I’m going that way.’ He opened the passenger door. The inside of the car was spotless.

  ‘Well, if you insist.’

  Getting to the post office earlier wasn’t such a good idea after all. The queue was out the door, and it looked like it was going to rain. She was about to step from the car when Roy placed his hand on her arm. ‘Aileen, would you consider coming out for a meal with me some time?’

  She turned towards him, unsure how to reply. She was longing to go to a nightclub, and anything was better than sitting in every night with Mary.

  ‘Roy, I…’

  ‘It’s okay. I shouldn’t have asked.’ He sat back and straightened his tie.

  The weekend stretched ahead of her, promising total boredom. A horn honked behind them, as she stepped from the car. Before she closed the door, she said, ‘I’d like to go out with you, Roy.’ She saw a smile play across his face as he drove away.

  While she waited her turn at the post office, she wondered if she had been hasty in accepting Roy’s offer then conceded it could do no harm. The post sorted and signed for, she headed for the travel agent, Thomas Cook, where she enquired about the ferry to Dublin. By the time she got back to Mary’s, she was in a much more positive mood.

  * * *

  It was Friday of the following week that Aileen answered the phone, surprised to hear Roy’s voice on the other end. ‘Hello there,’ he said. ‘What are you doing for lunch?’ Aileen felt her face redden, and Val stopped typing and looked up.

  Aileen leant back in her chair. ‘I’ve nothing planned. Why?’

  Val pulled a face.

  ‘Can you meet me in Victoria Park, at the bottom of Windmill Lane?’

  ‘What time?’

  ‘Can you
take the early lunch? I’ll bring something. What don’t you like?’

  She laughed. ‘Cheese.’

  ‘See you soon.’

  She replaced the receiver and glanced at her watch. ‘Do you mind if I take my lunch now, Val?’ She stood up and slipped her arms into her coat.

  ‘You’re a coy one. Who’s the secret admirer?’

  ‘What?’ Aileen shook her head. ‘It’s just Roy. I’m meeting him for lunch.’

  ‘Roy?’ Aileen saw the look of revulsion that crossed Val’s face. ‘Don’t tell me it’s Roy Pickering, the rep?’ She ran her finger down the list pinned on the wall. ‘What is he doing here? He’s supposed to be in Stafford.’

  Aileen shrugged. ‘Well, he’s back. He’s down the road.’

  Val sighed and shook her head.

  ‘What is it you dislike about him, Val?’

  She shrugged. ‘There's something weird about him. Can’t put my finger on it.’

  ‘We’re just friends. It’s nothing serious.’

  ‘I shouldn’t have said anything.’ Val looked contrite. ‘I don’t know much about him. Just be careful.’

  ‘Don’t worry. I will.’ Aileen picked up her bag. ‘See you later.’ Val raised her eyes.

  The weather had turned colder, and she didn’t fancy sitting on one of those wooden park benches. When she got to the park, she couldn’t see anyone apart from a woman walking her dog.

  A horn beeped, and Roy waved a hand in her direction. She hurried across to where the car was parked. He swung open the door, and she got in. She might have guessed Roy wasn’t the type to sit around on park benches.

  ‘Glad you could come.’ Smiling, he passed her a paper bag. ‘It’s ham. Hope that’s okay!’

  ‘I’m surprised you allow food in your car.’

  ‘I have a small hoover in the boot.’ That didn’t surprise her.

  She unwrapped the sandwich and took a bite. ‘Umm. You didn’t buy these from around here? They’re delicious.’

  ‘I know a little sandwich shop less than a mile from here. I was going to suggest the Seven Stars Inn for a snack. But then, I was outside the sandwich shop when I decided to phone you.’

  ‘Val said she thought you were in Stafford today?’

  ‘Spying again, is she?’ He shifted in his seat. ‘I finished early.’ He chewed his salad sandwich, swallowed, and then wiped his mouth with a paper serviette. ‘I wanted to see you, Aileen.’

  ‘What about?’

  ‘You’ve not forgotten you agreed to go out with me?’

  ‘No. I’ve not forgotten.’ She had thought he had when she hadn’t heard from him.

  ‘I’ve booked a table for eight o’clock tonight, and I wanted to let you know what time I was picking you up.’ He leant his head to one side. ‘That’s if it’s still okay?’

  Aileen felt a flutter of excitement. She was looking forward to experiencing some of Birmingham’s nightlife but had never expected it would be with someone as sophisticated as Roy.

  ‘You haven’t changed your mind, have you?’

  ‘No. But you don’t give a girl much notice.’ She laughed.

  ‘Sorry. With work and everything, I only managed to book it today. If you’d prefer not to, we can do it another time.’

  ‘No, tonight will be grand, Roy.’ She wasn’t going to miss the chance of a night out.

  ‘I’ll pick you up at your lodgings, or we can meet somewhere else.’ He finished his sandwich and screwed up the paper. ‘I don’t mind either way.’

  Mary would probably have a fit if Roy turned up on her doorstep, especially as she hadn’t been told. ‘Outside the house will be grand. I’ll be ready when you arrive. Is seven thirty enough time for us to get there?’

  ‘Seven thirty it is.’

  She put the remains of her sandwich back inside the paper bag. ‘I must be getting back.’

  Roy placed his hand on her arm. ‘I’ll drop you off.’

  ‘Thanks, but I could do with the fresh air before going back,’ she said, getting out of the car. She had only taken a few steps when he switched on the engine, gave her a wave, and moved off.

  She needed time to consider the best way to tell Mary about Roy. Her landlady was bound to ask questions, but for goodness sake, it was only dinner. He was good company and, God knows, she hadn’t had much of that lately. It wasn’t as if she had feelings for him, not in the way she had towards Dermot.

  She sighed. Dermot was miles away, she was lonely, and a meal with Roy wasn’t a crime. But she wasn’t looking forward to a lecture from Mary.

  Chapter Twenty

  After work, Aileen sat in the kitchen with a mug of tea while Mary prepared their dinner.

  ‘Don’t put any on for me, Mary, I’m eating out tonight.’

  ‘Oh, has Val given her boyfriend the night off?’ Mary turned to face her, a potato peeler in her hand. ‘Where are you gooin’?’

  ‘It’s not Val, Mary.’

  ‘Well, who is it then?’ She put down the potato peeler and leaned her back against the sink.

  Aileen took a deep breath, stirred her tea, and placed the spoon on a saucer. ‘It’s the Sales Manager from the mill. His name’s Roy Pickering.’

  ‘Sales Manager, eh?’ She sat down next to Aileen. ‘I don’t like the sound of this. How old is this Roy?’

  ‘I’m not sure.’ Aileen guessed he was in his thirties, but she wasn’t going to admit that to Mary.

  ‘Well, yea don’t know much about ‘im then.’

  ‘It’s just a meal!’

  There was a slight silence, then Mary said, ‘Well, I hope yea asked him to pick yea up ‘ere?’

  ‘I’m eighteen, Mary. You’ll just have to trust me. I’m not Bella, and I don’t want you to worry about me.’

  ‘Oh, woman ‘f the world now, are yea? Never mind Bella, you’re family, and I will worry. Where does ‘e live?’

  Aileen shrugged, beginning to tire of Mary’s questions. It was only a meal, for God’s sake. Why would she feel the need to know everything about him?

  ‘I’m going up to get ready, and if he knocks, please don’t embarrass him.’ Aileen ran upstairs wishing she had said nothing.

  * * *

  When she was ready, she hurried down and went outside. She waited on the porch until she spotted Roy’s car coming along the avenue, and hurried towards it. As she settled into the plush leather seat, she saw the net curtain twitch. She felt bad and wanted to run back to reassure Mary. But when Roy turned and beamed her a smile and asked if everything was all right, she said, ‘Yes. Fine. My landlady’s a bit over-anxious, so I got out before she gave you the third degree.’

  ‘Glad I didn’t get as far as the door then,’ Roy said. ‘You look lovely.’

  Roy looked immaculate in a grey pinstriped suit, pink shirt, and grey tie, in comparison to her black miniskirt and frilly white blouse under her black leather jacket. She wished now that she had bought herself something new. ‘Is it a very posh place?’

  He laughed. ‘Well, not really. I thought we could eat and dance to one of the bands at the Locarno. Not sure who’s playing tonight.’

  ‘Sounds lovely.’

  ‘It might be a bit crowded, that’s why I booked in advance.’

  She was pleased about that, and although she liked Roy, she didn’t fancy going anywhere intimate with him. This place sounded just right, with lots of people around. She felt excited to see the city at night with neon lights flashing. Even New Street looked different, still busy with traffic and pedestrians.

  Roy swung the car down Hurst Street, where he parked outside the Locarno. Aileen felt a frisson of excitement.

  Brightly lit signs advertising dancing, dining and bands flashed on and off over the entrance as couples made their way inside. He guided her up to the bar. ‘What would you like to drink, Aileen?’

  She remembered Val saying she drank gin and tonic, and asked for the same. Roy had a pint of Mitchell’s and Butlers and then they made their way down aga
in. Tables for two with white covers surrounded the dance floor, and lights lit up the stage where the band members were tuning their instruments. It was very different to what she had imagined, and when she glanced around at the other girls with their fashionable hairstyles and short, colourful dresses, she felt out of place. A cosy two-seater sofa accompanied each table, suitable for courting couples. Once they were seated, Roy beckoned the waitress. ‘I don’t suppose you do vegetarian?’

  ‘I’m afraid not.’

  ‘What’s on the menu?’

  ‘Scampi and chips, steak and chips, or chicken in a basket.’

  ‘Nothing outstanding then,’ he said.

  ‘Are you a vegetarian, Roy?’ Aileen wanted to know.

  ‘Mother and I often enjoy one when we’re in London.’

  Aileen nodded. ‘Is it just vegetables then?’

  His lip curled as if it was a stupid question, and she saw a faraway look in his eyes as if he had gone somewhere else. ‘Roy… Roy, are you all right?’ She sat forward in her seat.

  The waitress sighed and chewed the end of her pencil.

  ‘Sorry,’ he said, blinking. ‘What are you having, Aileen?’

  She thought carefully before making her choice. She didn’t fancy trying to eat chicken out of a basket, and she quite liked scampi.

  ‘Well, I haven’t got all night,’ the girl said.

  ‘Sorry. Scampi and chips, please.’

  ‘Oh, nonsense!’ Roy said. ‘Have the steak. It’s always excellent.’

  ‘Thanks, but I’ll stick with the scampi.’

  He shook his head, and the waitress scribbled down their order, then hurried along to the next table.

  ‘I hope it won’t be too long,’ he said, bringing his arm across to look at his watch. His shirt cuff inched up just enough for Aileen to see a heart-shaped tattoo with the initial ‘M’; she quickly looked away. Aileen thought only sailors indulged in tattoos.

  Smiling across at him, she asked, ‘Where did you have your tattoo done?’

  His eyes narrowed, and he shifted uneasily in his chair. ‘It’s nothing. It means nothing. You must take no notice of that, Aileen. It was a long time ago.’