Dublin's Fair City

by Cathy Mansell

  The traffic was beginning to irritate him, and he weaved between cyclists and changed lanes in order to speed up his journey. He must win her back, but he would have to be patient. Aileen wasn’t like the others he had met. She was special. She wanted to make something of her life. He knew why she had come to Birmingham, and he had sensed her vulnerability being away from her family. He had plenty to offer her to make her happy.

  He sighed. It was difficult not to think about her. She had an angelic face and long, golden hair that he longed to stroke. She didn’t have a boyfriend. He paused at the traffic lights. Who was he kidding? A pretty girl like that? She could be two-timing him. Perhaps he was a fool and Aileen Maguire was just a tease. She had made him believe she liked him, wanted to be with him, and then humiliated him by refusing his advances. What was he to think?

  Arriving hot and frustrated, he took more deep breaths, patted his hair in the mirror, then plastered on his best salesman smile before entering the building.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Aileen arrived back in Dublin, fatigued after her journey. A sea of faces met her as she walked from the ferry dragging her case, much heavier than when she’d started out. Passengers rushed past her while others were greeted by smiling faces.

  When she saw Dermot, her face brightened. He pushed forward and swept her into his arms. ‘I thought you’d never get here. You look gorgeous. How was Birmingham?’

  She lowered her eyes as colour flushed her face

  ‘I’m sorry, I’m rattling on.’

  ‘That’s okay, Dermot. I’m pleased to see you, too. I wasn’t sure you’d make it. When did you get back from Wales?’

  ‘Last night.’ He picked up her luggage, and they walked away.

  ‘It must have been unbearable for your aunt.’

  He nodded. ‘My aunt’s an amazing woman, you know, and the small community where they live is very supportive. But it’ll take time for something like that to heal. Come on,’ he said. ‘The van’s over here.’ He unlocked the back and placed her case inside.

  An air freshener dangled from the mirror, and the smell of lavender made her smile as she got in. Dermot turned to her. ‘It’s so good to see you. I missed you, and I want to hear all about Birmingham.’

  ‘We’ll have plenty of time to talk later.’ Aileen was in no hurry to discuss her experience of living in Birmingham; for now, she was more than happy to be home.

  ‘Have you seen anything of my da, Dermot?’

  He stopped at the side of the curb and pulled on the handbrake. ‘Sorry, I almost forgot.’ He pulled an envelope from his pocket. ‘This is the letter he left for you at the butcher’s. I took the liberty of bringing it with me.’

  She turned it over in her hand, nervous about opening it. Then she glanced up at Dermot as he manoeuvred the van away from the docks, following the queue of cars towards the city. ‘My da’s not written to me once while I was away.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Aileen. Whatever it contains, you know already. Go on, open it.’ He smiled reassuringly.

  She swallowed and ripped it open. The single sheet of writing paper was neatly folded to fit the small envelope, and she noticed the new address on the top of the page.

  Dearest Aileen,

  When I heard from Dermot that you were coming home, I quickly wrote this letter, as I didn’t want you going to the shop and finding the locks changed. As you can see from the address above, we are now running a busy sweet shop on Camden Street. I’m sure you’ll like it.

  Lizzy has been instrumental in setting things up, and customers continue to come in—at first out of curiosity, and once inside they can’t resist buying the confectionery. Which is good news for us.

  I hope your stay in Birmingham was a happy experience, and that you will now see the sense of staying home and continuing your studies.

  It’ll be good to see you.

  Your Da. Jonny Maguire.

  She folded the note and pressed it back into the envelope. Her father always signed off in that old-fashioned formal way. Aileen and her ma used to laugh about it, but now she felt totally ill at ease that there was no show of affection.

  ‘Well, is he all right?’ Dermot asked.

  Aileen slipped off her Alice band and let her hair fall over her face, hoping to hide her tears. ‘Yes,’ she said, her eyes downcast. ‘Would you mind if we don’t go past the draper’s shop, Dermot?’

  ‘Sure. I’ll go round the top end.’ He drove the long way round and up Dominick Street, approaching Dorset Street from the other end. Then he stopped outside the butcher’s.

  Aileen placed her hand on his arm. ‘Dermot, I can’t stay at yours.’ He was about to speak when she handed him her father’s letter to read. ‘I’ll say hello to your parents and then, if you don’t mind, could you drop me off in Camden Street?’

  He read the letter quickly, his brow creasing into a frown. ‘A sweet shop!’ He turned to Aileen. ‘Your da will find that quite a change, then. I would never have called your aunt a sweet person. I mean…’ Aileen couldn’t help laughing. ‘You know what I mean,’ he said, opening the van door. ‘I’ll leave your case in the back, so.’

  Dermot guided Aileen inside, where his mother came from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a tea cloth. ‘Sure, it’s lovely to have you home, Aileen. The kettle’s on. Come on through.’

  They sat round the kitchen table, and Aileen sipped a welcome cup of Irish tea and hospitality; she offered condolences to Dermot’s mother for her sister’s loss.

  ‘Ah, sure the Lord works in mysterious ways, love, and we all get our share of grief.’ She sighed. ‘You know that as well as the rest of us.’

  Dermot’s parents wanted to know all about her time in Birmingham, but after an hour Aileen could hardly keep her eyes open. Fearing she might drop off the chair, she stood up, thanked them for their kindness, and asked Dermot if he would take her to her da’s.

  ‘Of course.’ He got up and slipped on his jacket. ‘You must be jaded after the journey.’

  * * *

  The traffic was light as Dermot manoeuvred the van along O’Connell Street and Dame Street towards George’s Street, along Angier Street, Wexford Street, and onto Camden Street on the south side of the Liffey. Aileen had no interest in sightseeing so she closed her eyes for most of the journey.

  As they drew closer to the address, her heartbeat quickened; she was dreading going inside. She doubted very much that Lizzy would welcome her with open arms. What was her da thinking of, moving in with her? Didn’t he care what people thought?

  Their lack of conversation during the short journey didn’t seem to bother Dermot. A look of concentration clouded his good looks.

  'That's your da’s red car parked outside, 'Dermot said and pulled up abruptly. His brakes made a harsh grinding noise and he apologised to Aileen, but she hardly noticed. She was already regretting coming here.

  He placed his hand over hers folded in her lap. ‘This is it, Aileen.’

  Her heart raced. The brown paintwork around the shop window and door looked shabby, the paint blistered from years of neglect. It made her wonder what the inside was like. Her sigh was audible.

  ‘Look, Aileen, if you change your mind, you know, just ring me, and I’ll be over to pick you up.’

  ‘I’ll be grand. Thanks, Dermot.’

  ‘I’ll get your things.’ He gave her a wry smile. ‘You go on in.’

  Aileen stepped out of the van just as the net curtains twitched upstairs. The street was quiet, apart from a couple of stray dogs and a few people making their way to early morning mass. A man coming out of the newsagent’s across the street lifted his cap, and Aileen smiled. A strange feeling crept over her as she surveyed the shop window. Glass jars with different coloured lids, full to the brim with an assortment of sweets, adorned the window. They were arranged to attract and invite, and she could well imagine children coming in with their pocket money once the shop opened in an hour’s time.

  Before she had tim
e to knock, the door opened. Her aunt framed the door, tugging her dressing gown across her chest, a scowl on her face. ‘Oh, it’s you,’ she said. ‘Pity you didn’t give us more notice. Come in.’

  She eyed Dermot. He shifted his stance and was about to step inside when Lizzy barred his way. ‘Aileen can take that.’

  Dermot shook his head and dropped the case by the door. Her aunt’s manners were appalling, and Aileen was sorry she hadn’t taken Dermot up on his offer to stay with his parents. She thanked him quickly before her aunt shut the door, leaving Aileen to carry her belongings through the shop.

  The smell of sherbet and liquorice invaded her senses, and she just had time to glimpse the long counter to her left, with small boxes of sweets, including packets of pretend sweet cigarettes and silver mints. Too tired to linger, she followed her aunt and manoeuvred her way around cardboard boxes towards the living room, where she dropped her luggage.

  ‘Well, don’t stand there. Sit down.’ Lizzy clicked her tongue and went through to the scullery where Aileen could see the gas cooker. She sat down on her ma’s sofa, wishing she’d stayed longer at Dermot’s. Her aunt returned and remained standing. ‘The kettle won’t be long.’

  ‘Where’s Da?’

  ‘He’s still in bed.’ She gave a little laugh. ‘Well, if you will call at this unearthly hour on a Sunday morning.’

  ‘I’m sorry to have disturbed you, but it couldn’t be helped. Can I go up and see him?’

  ‘He’ll be down soon. I’m sure everyone was awakened by that butcher boy’s van. Noisy contraption.’ Too tired to argue with the woman, Aileen stayed seated. ‘How long are yea staying then?’

  Desperately biting her tongue, Aileen said. ‘I’ve come to see my da, and how long I stay will depend on him.’

  ‘Well, I’m sure you’d like a drink.’ She went back to the scullery.

  Aileen leaned back on her ma’s cushions, drawing what comfort she could from their softness, and closed her eyes.

  When she woke, she glanced at her watch. Had she really been asleep for two hours? A mug of cold tea and toast was on the table next to her. She could hear children’s voices coming from the shop, and was just about to go and look for her da when he walked into the room. Aileen stood up.

  ‘I’m sorry I didn’t hear you arrive. I sleep in the back bedroom.’

  ‘How are you, Da?’

  ‘You know, I’m getting there. And you, how have you been?’ He came closer and put his arms around her. ‘I’m sorry about before, love. I was crazy and out of my mind.’

  She looked up at him. ‘You mean, about Ma’s baby?’

  ‘No, about losing her. Now, I don't want to hear any more about a baby.’

  ‘But, Da!’

  ‘Come on, I’ll show you round.’ He led her through to the shop where Lizzy was serving a couple with two children. ‘What do you think then?’

  What could she say? ‘It’s lovely, Da. So you’re in sweets now. Are you enjoying it?’

  ‘Well, I’ll soon find out, won’t I?’ He smiled, then took her elbow and walked her back into the room and out to the small scullery. ‘We’ve a lot to do yet, but the shop had to take priority and Lizzy’s been hard at it getting everything ready.’ He chuckled. ‘It’s only been a short while, but already we’re doing a good trade. By the way, the lavatory’s outside.’

  He led her upstairs. ‘There’s a small bathroom along the landing. We’ve only the two rooms, plus a box room up here, and I’m sorry I’ve not got round to getting it ready.’ He pushed open the door, and she looked inside. ‘As you can see, it’s rather tiny, but maybe tomorrow you’ll help me tidy it up. Your bed is underneath that mountain of clothes, bags and boxes,’ he said with a laugh.

  It was good to see her da laughing again in his old familiar way. Aileen sat down on the edge of a packing case. ‘Da, are you and Lizzy together? I mean…’

  ‘We’re running a business together and we’re living in the same house. That’s it, okay? I’m past caring what people think. Your aunt’s not happy with the set-up, but I’m not getting married again.’

  Aileen thought it was a strange arrangement, but was delighted that her da hadn’t married the woman. She bit down hard on her lip. In spite of the fact that she thought it was much too soon, she kept her own counsel. Her father was speaking to her more than he had done in months, and she didn’t want him to stop. ‘Are you happy, Da?’

  He nodded. ‘She looks after me, and we have a good little business going.’

  ‘Da, can I stay for a few days?’

  ‘Well, of course. This is your home, too, Aileen. If I’d known sooner when you were coming, I’d have made an effort to get the room ready.’

  ‘I’ll be fine,’ she said and kissed his cheek.

  After a wash, Aileen brushed her hair and went for a walk. It was Sunday, so everywhere was closed, and she was back sooner than she expected. Her da was doing a shift in the shop, and her aunt was sitting on her ma’s sofa with her feet up.

  ‘Can I get you anything?’ Aileen asked, having decided to make an effort to get to know her aunt’s better side, for her da’s sake.

  ‘The best thing you can do for me is to get yourself back to England,’ the woman said. ‘It was thoughtless of you to come before we had time to sort ourselves out.’

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Aileen couldn’t sleep. She lay on the sofa wide awake, long after her da and Lizzy had gone to bed. Her aunt’s words swirled around her head. Apparently, her da thought the woman was someone he could trust enough to live with and share a business. All she could do was hope that Lizzy’s true colours surfaced sooner rather than later.

  This was her home, too, her da had said. But it would never be home to her, not in the way it was above the haberdashery. How could it be when her aunt had made it blatantly clear that she wanted her to go? If she were to tell her father about Lizzy’s overt act of intimidation, would he believe her? It might sever their already fragile relationship.

  It was almost daylight when she finally closed her eyes but she still woke early, determined to be up before her aunt came downstairs. She folded the blanket and put away the pillow before making herself tea and toast. The cupboards were sparse, and she wondered if her aunt had any food in the place. She was munching her toast when her da appeared in the doorway, a smile on his face.

  ‘Did you sleep okay?’ He sat down opposite her at the small grey Formica table.

  ‘Yes, it was fine thanks, Da.’ She poured his tea.

  ‘You know, love, it’s really grand to see you again. As soon as I’ve drunk this, we’ll get on and clear the box room. One night is long enough to sleep on that old sofa.’ He swallowed his tea. ‘Your aunt will be down in a minute to open the shop. Then we can make a start.’

  While Lizzy was in the scullery, Aileen followed her da upstairs. A large box was positioned in front of the bedroom door. It hadn’t been there yesterday, and her da had to move it before pushing open the door. Inside, the single bed was littered with clothes and cases. Aileen couldn’t see where they were going to put all the stuff once they cleared the bed.

  ‘Look, Da, maybe I should stay at Uncle Paddy’s, give you a bit more time to get straight.’

  ‘Why would you do that? We’ll have this room ready in no time. Help me with this box. Your aunt has marked all her stuff. I’ve forgotten what’s in ours.’ But when they had finished shifting stuff, the room looked no different. Boxes surrounded the bed, some piled precariously along the wall.

  ‘As long as you can get into bed, you’ll be grand for now.’

  Aileen nodded. ‘Thanks, Da.’ At least, she had somewhere to hide from her aunt’s disagreeable grunts when he wasn’t around. ‘As I said, Da, I can only stay until Friday, and I want to get started on Ma’s last request.’

  Although he nodded, his face clouded. ‘Are you happy working in Birmingham?’ His change of tact hadn't surprised her.

  ‘Well, it’s not what I hoped I’d
be doing, but the girl I work with is grand. We have a laugh, like. The work is boring and repetitive. The papers are full of jobs, so I might look for something a bit more interesting when I go back.’

  ‘Well, write and let me know how you get on.’

  ‘I will, Da.’ It was the first time he had shown any interest in what she was doing since her ma died, and it pleased her. ‘Da, can I ask you something?’

  He sighed. ‘Go on.’

  ‘Mary said that Ma had me in a private nursing home.'

  ‘Not this again, Aileen.’

  ‘Was it Rathmines, or Rathgar?’ she continued. ‘Mary wasn’t sure. I want to see what I can find out.’

  ‘It was Rathgar.’ He took a deep breath. ‘I wish you’d drop this. It’ll only cause you heartache.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Da. I can’t.’

  * * *

  It was bitterly cold when Aileen stepped off the bus in Rathgar, but at least, it wasn’t raining. She walked through the village until she came to the post office, which seemed a good place to start her enquiries, and the postmistress was eager to help.

  ‘There’ve been a couple of new places in the past few years,’ she told Aileen. ‘I vaguely remember a private baby home. Well, if it’s the one I’m thinking of, it’s the only one around here at the time you’re talking about.’ She pursed her lips. ‘I can’t think what it was called. It’s not there now. Replaced by one of them new buildings, I’d say.'

  ‘Thank you.’ Aileen was about to leave when an older woman, wrapped up against the cold, breezed in pulling a shopping trolley behind her.

  ‘Hold on a minute,’ the postmistress called. ‘Mrs Murphy might know. She’s lived in the village a long time.’

  Aileen stepped aside as the woman bought stamps, and waited until she had finished her transaction. ‘Excuse me. I’m trying to locate a mother and baby home that was in this area around 1948.’ The woman’s head shot up, and she moved her trolley out of the way of customers. ‘I believe it was a private home,’ Aileen added.