‘Tis a pity a few more round here wouldn’t practice a bit of discretion when it came to other people’s business,’ he’d often say as Mammy was telling him the latest news as she put out his dinner in the evenings.
‘I bet your mam is saying novenas at home for you, though,’ Patrick remarked as they licked their ice creams, their faces up to the warm sun.
‘She would be if she knew I was going for the scholarship, but she doesn’t. Things have been a bit hard lately, she’s enough to be dealing with.’ Liam wondered if Patrick knew about the big scandal. He assumed he did since the whole place knew about it. He waited for his new friend’s reply, hoping he wouldn’t say anything bad.
‘Mine don’t know either, not that my da would care either way, and it would just be another thing for my mam to worry about. Your dad is great, I remember watching ye all on a Sunday going down the park to a match and walking home with chips. My auld fella was only ever in the pub. You must miss him.’
‘I do,’ Liam said, relieved that Patrick had said something nice about his dad. He was great, and he was glad someone remembered that.
‘Maybe he’ll be home soon. Everyone says there’s work in the new factory and there’s talk of another one opening soon. A few of the fellas that work with me in the warehouse are going for jobs there.’
‘I hope so. He’s not in England with Mrs Kinsella, you know.’ Suddenly it was important that Patrick knew this.
‘Course he’s not. No one with half a brain thinks that he is. Sure, isn’t she as daft as the crows, you’d know that by looking at her. Her daughter is gone to live with an aunt I think, that’s what my mother heard anyway. She’s just a bit younger than us, isn’t she, the daughter? What’s she like?’
Liam smiled happily, pleased that Patrick knew the truth.
‘I don’t know really. She was quiet, just played on her own out the back most of the time, I think. She was too young for the twins, and anyway, they are so stuck together they’ve no time for anyone else.’
‘They were a class ahead of me in the infants room. There’re really brainy, aren’t they?’
Liam sighed and threw his eyes heavenward.
‘May God forgive me, but they are a right pain in the arse.’ He felt bad saying arse, but he wanted his new friend to like him. ‘They’re such know-it-alls and sure they hardly ever even talk to me, they’re so high and mighty. What about your sister?’
‘Well, there’s just me and her, she’s small so she’s cute still, and one on the way, and my mam. She got a bit of a fright, when she found out she was expecting Connie, I think she thought I’d be the only one and now another one. It’s going to be grand, but my auld fella, well, you know what he’s like, you’ve heard him often enough. He hits us sometimes.’ Patrick’s voice was quieter now.
Liam wondered what to say. He had told Patrick about Daddy and now Patrick was telling him about his awful father. He wanted to say something that would make him feel better about it all. He knew exactly how Joe Lynch was, Daddy had to intervene sometimes if he was getting violent, and often the guards took him away.
‘Well, I bet you get this scholarship and get a big job somewhere and then you’ll be able to buy your mam and your sister a nice house, and you can get a big dog and train him to bite your da if he looks like he’s going to hit anyone.’
Patrick burst out laughing and, for a moment, Liam felt stupid for making such a suggestion.
‘That’s a brilliant idea, Liam, a massive dog who is nice to everyone except my da when he’s drunk. He’s all right sober, you know?’ Patrick was kicking a stone with the scuffed tip of his shoe.
‘My dad always said he was, and that he was a great hurler when he was young and that he’s got a great singing voice,’ Liam added, instantly regretting the last bit since Joe Lynch reserved his singing to the small hours of the morning.
‘Oh yeah, the whole street knows about his singing all right,’ Patrick said ruefully.
They walked back to the hall, testing each other on Latin verbs as they went.
The rest of the exams went in a blur. Patrick and Liam went to Mass at lunchtime, and Liam prayed hard to his team of saints for inspiration. The best would be if both he and Patrick got the scholarship and they could be best friends in school. By the end of the day, he was exhausted but pleased that he had done his best. After the last exam—Irish—the priest in charge told them that their parents would be notified by post within a week if they were successful or not. Liam was determined to watch the postman like a hawk to intercept any letter. There was enough time to tell Mammy if he got it. She’d be pleased, he knew that, and proud to have a son going to secondary, but he worried that she might be relying on his wages a bit more now, so maybe it wasn’t going to be the best news. He was due to start in the hospital in two weeks’ time but the thought filled him with dread. He desperately wanted to go to secondary, especially now if Patrick was going too.
A week later, he opened the front door laden down with shopping that Mammy asked him to pick up in town. He had planned to go on the bike but Con had taken it.
There was a girl Con was keen on over on the Southside and there hadn’t been a sign of him for weeks. He told Liam he wanted to take her to a dance in the City Hall so he was taking all the overtime he could to make enough for the tickets and a new rig out. Liam couldn’t see why he wanted to go to a dance in the first place, let alone why he’d waste money on a shirt and a suit when he had loads of work shirts and at least two good shirts for Mass that Mammy had turned the collar on only a few weeks ago, but Con insisted. He had put away a charcoal suit and a shirt and tie in Matt Murphy’s Gentleman’s Outfitters in town and was paying it off by the week. He gave up going to matches and he bought nothing. He handed up half his wages as rent to Mammy, and the rest he spent on the clothes and this girl. Her name was Hilda, and she was the most beautiful girl in the world according to Con. The Royal Showband was playing and this Hilda was mad about them. He even caught Con practicing jiving, a kind of dance, in their bedroom when he thought everyone was out. Liam thought he looked like a right eejit but when he pointed this out to Con, he got a clatter.
He pushed the door open with his foot since both his arms were full. There was the bicycle in the hall; he could have used it after all. Frustrated with his brother, he fought the urge to kick the bike. The kitchen door was closed, which was unusual, and he sighed in exasperation that he’d have to put down the bags to open it. Dropping the bags, he opened the door and saw his mother, Molly, Annie, Con, and Kate standing at the stove. What was going on? Why was Kate home? Nobody said she was coming home. The silence was deafeningly eerie. Instantly, Liam knew something was wrong.
Mammy turned and looked at him with tears streaming down her face.
She pulled him into an embrace. He wriggled free. ‘What? What happened?’
There was silence as everyone stared, unable to speak. Liam watched Kate take his hand and lead him to a kitchen chair. He normally would have shaken her off, but something was very wrong.
‘It’s Daddy, Liam. An accident, he was killed. An accident at the factory, something fell on him...’ Kate tried to go on, but the words wouldn’t come.
Time seemed to slow down. This was ridiculous, they were making it up. This wasn’t really happening. Blood thundered in his ears, and he felt sick. Mammy was gulping for air as if she couldn’t breathe.
Kate put her arms around him, but he pushed her away. ‘No! You’re lying! He’s coming home! He is! Mammy said he was! Con too! He’s not dead! He’s not!’ Liam screamed, he felt pounding in his head, this wasn’t happening.
Con came towards him, and Liam pummelled his chest as his brother restrained him.
‘It’s true, Liam. Kate didn’t want us to get a letter from the factory so she came on the boat last night. You’ll have to be a big fella now and be strong for Daddy, all right? That’s what he’d want.’
‘Shut up, you! You’
re trying to be a big man yourself and you’re not, Con, so stop telling me what to do! You don’t know what Daddy would want. I want to see him! I want my daddy!’ Liam knew he was acting like a baby, but he didn’t care, he just wanted his daddy.
Mammy came towards him and as she did, Kate stood between her and Liam.
‘This is your fault,’ Kate spat. ‘He would never have even been in England if it wasn’t for you. If you had trusted him and stood by him, instead of being so worried about what the neighbours would say. You broke his heart, do you know that? He never got over you thinking there was something between him and that lunatic next door. If it wasn’t for you, none of this would have happened.’ She finished with a sob.
‘I know...do you think I don’t know that? I should never have...’ Mammy’s voice was barely audible.
‘She’s right,’ Con said dully. ‘This is down to you. I hope you’re happy.’
‘Stop this, stop shouting, all of you!’ Liam screamed so loudly he didn’t recognise his own voice. He threw himself into his mother’s arms, sobbing.
‘It’s not your fault, Mammy, it really isn’t,’ he said over and over.
‘I wish you were right, Liam,’ she said quietly, rubbing his hair but then letting him go and leaving the room. The five Tobin children stood in silence in the kitchen, trying to absorb what had happened. Their beloved father was never coming home.
Chapter 7
The neighbours held a fund raiser in the local hurling and football club to gather the money to get Seán Tobin’s remains home. People came and went in the house in the week that followed. It took ages for the English authorities to release the body though nobody was able to adequately explain why. Mammy sat dry-eyed beside the stove, dressed in black, silently saying the rosary for the repose of the soul of her husband while her neighbours brought trays of cakes and pots of stew.
Liam was in a daze of misery. He went to sleep each night remembering when he was small and used to listen to Mammy and Daddy chatting downstairs. He tried to remember that feeling of safety and love. Sometimes he could just about recall it, but more often, it felt like that time was like something he read about in a story, something that had happened to someone else. He tried hard to picture in his mind’s eye the scene he witnessed years earlier, his Mammy sitting on Daddy’s lap as he rubbed her hair and they stared into the fire together. He tried to block out everything that had happened and turn the clock back to when they were the happiest family in the whole wide world.
Every morning when he woke, just for one second, none of this had happened. Daddy was gone to work, and he was going to Mass with Mammy and the twins and everything was as it used to be. He willed his mind to hold on to the image but reality forced its ugly way into his consciousness even if he refused to open his eyes. He would lie there, silently begging his old life to come back, but it was pointless.
Today was the day. Daddy was finally coming home. The Inisfallen, the boat they watched so often leave Cork port together, was now sliding into the quayside and somewhere on it was a box with Daddy in it. It seemed unbelievable. Liam used to love sitting on the grassy bank of the River Lee with Daddy and Con after a match in the park and watch the huge ship pass by, so close you could almost shake hands with the people gathered on deck to get the best view of the city as she docked. Now he hated that boat. That was the boat that took his father away and now it was bringing him back to them dead. He wished it would sink and then instantly regretted that thought. If it sank, the other people whose mammies and daddies and families were on board would be as sad as him and what would be the point of that? He dragged himself downstairs; Mammy would need him for jobs.
‘Mr O’Connor is meeting the boat and will take charge from there.’ A tall man in a black suit was talking to Mammy in the kitchen as he entered.
‘Oh right. That’s fine,’ she said as if she were in a trance.
The man turned as Liam opened the door and extended his hand. ‘Hello, I’m James Cantillon, I’m so sorry for your terrible loss. I work for Mr O’Connor, the undertaker; I’ll be helping you and your family today. What’s your name?’
‘Liam,’ he answered. He didn’t care if it sounded rude; he wanted him to get out of their house.
‘Well, Liam, if you need anything today, or if you want any help with anything over the next few days, you just call me. Is that all right?’
Liam knew the man was trying to be kind, but he just stared at him as if he were mad. The only thing he wanted was to have Daddy back, surely this man knew that.
‘Thank you, Mr Cantillon...’ Mammy began.
‘James, please,’ he interrupted. Liam supposed he was only a bit older than Kate, around twenty maybe.
‘James, thank you, James,’ she said, still in that dreamy faraway voice.
‘The car will be available at around four to take you and the family to the church if you wish,’ he said. ‘But since it’s so close, would ye rather walk?’
‘We’ll walk,’ Liam said, but his voice came out as a squeak. He was embarrassed and felt his face redden.
‘Fine so. I’ll be back then if you don’t need anything else?’ James asked kindly.
‘No. No, thank you, we’re fine for now...’ Mammy said.
Con appeared at the door. He wasn’t there when Liam woke so he must have been up for ages and had gone out somewhere.
‘That’s fine, James, thanks,’ he said. Liam looked at Con; he seemed older, dressed in his new suit that he was supposed to wear to the dance in the City Hall. He was shaving now, and he looked like a man, not a boy anymore.
‘Do you want tea, Con?’ Mammy asked.
‘I’ll make it myself,’ he replied curtly. Neither Kate nor Con had spoken properly to Mammy since the night they were all together in the kitchen. They still blamed her for what happened, and the twins were following their lead. Liam felt sorry for Mammy, he could see she was heartbroken, but he hadn’t the words to make her feel better. The only thing he could do was be as nice to her as he could and try to make up for the hostility of his siblings.
‘Do you want a cup of tea, Mammy?’ he asked.
She looked at him with shining eyes, his words breaking her reverie. ‘No, thank you, pet, you’re very good. I think I’ll go over to the church and say a prayer.’
‘Will I come with you?’ he asked.
‘That would be lovely. We’ll light a special candle for your daddy and say a prayer to St Michael the Archangel to take him safely into heaven.’
As they crossed the road towards the church, Liam tried once more to make sense of it all.
‘But Mammy, sure isn’t he in heaven long ago, he died last week?’ Liam wished he understood things better. Adults were always saying confusing things. He was older now, and knew more about things, but he didn’t feel wiser at all. His twelfth birthday was last month but even though the family tried to make a fuss of him, and Mammy even made a cake—the first one in ages—it was all a bit flat. Daddy was in England then, and he thought that was the worst it could be. He never dreamed it could be this, Daddy dead.
‘That’s right, love, he is. He’s up in heaven looking down on us and keeping us safe because that what the dead do for us. They watch over us.’
‘But how come someone wasn’t watching over Daddy, so? Like Nana and Granda or someone like that? If the dead mind us, how come nobody was watching over Daddy keeping him safe?’ The pain was bubbling up through him again, like acid burning him inside.
Mammy stopped and turned to him, holding both his hands in hers. ‘God needed Daddy. It’s as simple as that. He needed him to go home to heaven, and we’ll just have to manage without him because God’s need is more important that our needs.’
This was making no sense. ‘But God has loads of dead people in heaven, everyone that ever died since the start of time, surely one of them could have done whatever he needed Daddy for. Why did he have to take my daddy?’ Tears coursed down his
cheeks again.
‘I don’t know, Liam. I wish I did. But it’s not for us to question the will of God. We must accept it.’ Mammy tried to reason with him, but Liam was past understanding any of this.
‘I hate God! I hate him! I hate him for taking Daddy and for making Mrs Kinsella and for making the Inisfallen and I hate England and I hate everything.’ He was screaming, he knew it, but he didn’t care. People were watching, and then he was running, running as fast as he could up the hill. He could hear his mother calling him back, but he just wanted to run and never stop.
He ran as fast as he could, his heart pounding in his chest. Tears ran sideways from his eyes and still he ran. The wall of black that met him was a shock, and he barrelled into it with full force. He felt strong arms encircle him and hold on to him even though he struggled hard to escape.
‘Easy, Liam, easy.’
He stopped struggling and looked up into the face of whoever was restraining him. He was outside the monastery.
‘Easy, lad. Just take it easy now. You’re grand. Now, I’m going to let go of you, but you must promise me you won’t run off again. I’m too old to catch up with you.’ Father Aquinas kept hold of Liam by the upper arms but crouched down so they were face to face.
‘Promise?’
‘Promise,’ Liam agreed. His chest hurt from running so hard, he doubted he could run even if he wanted to, anyway.
His mother was walking quickly towards them and eventually she stood beside him.
‘Thank you, Father, I’m so sorry about this...’ She was puffed out as well.
‘No bother at all, Mrs Tobin. I’m very sorry for your loss.’
‘Thank you, Father,’ Mammy panted. ‘Would you say a prayer for him please?’
Jean Grainger Box Set: So Much Owed, Shadow of a Century, Under Heaven's Shining Stars Page 82