His face grew very solemn. “I’d say you might be needed here at home now, to help look after your mother.” He opened his hands expansively. “At times like this, families need to pull together, look after each other. Wouldn’t you say?”
Fiona became aware of a strange lump in her throat. “We haven’t had time to talk about things yet.” She felt flustered now, and found it hard to get the words out, and she could hear that she sounded as though she had suddenly gone hoarse.
Nance took a deep breath. “We’ll see what happens, Father...when we’ve had time to think things through.”
Angela moved forward and placed her two manicured hands on the table. “Today is about our family saying goodbye to Daddy, not making big decisions for the future. I’m sure you would agree with that, Father?”
Father McEvoy’s eyebrows shot up. “Of course,” he said. “The future, as they say, will take care of itself.”
The waitresses reappeared and started to clear the empty plates and check whether people would like hot apple tart and custard or sherry trifle.
When the desserts were finished and more plates cleared, cups of tea were distributed. The finale was a free whiskey or sherry for everyone and, after saying a few words about his brother and how much he would be missed, Jimmy Tracey asked everyone in the bar to raise their glasses in a final toast to him.
Shortly afterwards, as the two priests made their farewells, Father McEvoy bent low to speak quietly in Nance’s ear. None of the girls could hear what he said, but it looked to be of some comfort to their mother as she smiled and said a tearful “Thank you” to him.
The priests left, then more people started to move around the room. The men fond of a drink began gravitating towards the bar, whilst others made their way over to Nance and her daughters to repeat their condolences and say a few more kind words about Seán before making their way home.
At one point, Angela got to her feet, giving a little gasp as she did so.
“Are you okay?” Fiona asked.
“I’m fine. My leg is a bit sore from all the walking,” she said. “I’m just going to ask Aunt Catherine to join us for a while now. People are starting to go and I don’t want to miss them.”
Fiona put her hand over her sister’s. “I’ll go over to them. It will save you having to. I was just waiting until everyone had finished to go over to them myself.”
Angela thanked her and then she sat back down.
Nance leaned across to Bridget. “I’ve just been looking around. I haven’t seen any of the nuns...I did say to them outside the church that they were welcome to come back here for something to eat.”
“I was thinking that earlier myself, but I don’t suppose they would come into a pub,” Bridget said. “They probably had to go back to the school anyway.”
“It was good of them to come. It’s a fairly long drive from Athlone.”
“It was nice of them,” Bridget agreed. She turned to the table behind, where there were a couple of free chairs. “I’ll pull some extra chairs over to let people sit down beside us if they want to.”
Fiona came back to the table with her aunt, carrying her coat and hat and handbag. Joseph came behind, carrying his mother’s sherry glass and another glass with lager.
Angela moved her chair to let her aunt sit beside her, while Joseph sat down between his aunt and his mother. Fiona sat at the opposite side of the table with Bridget.
“That was a great turnout,” Joseph said quietly to his aunt. “A huge crowd in the church.”
Nance turned towards him, although she did not look directly at him. “It was,” she said, nodding her head. “Seán was highly thought of.”
Bridget smiled over at her cousin now. “He did the same for so many others. When you think of all the wakes he attended, and the funeral receptions that were held in the bar here.” Tears suddenly appeared at the corners of her eyes.
Aunt Catherine noticed, and she leaned over and put her hand over Bridget’s. “The Mass was very nice too. The priest said some lovely things about him.”
“He did,” Nance said. “He couldn’t have been nicer.”
Fiona watched her mother closely, checking how she reacted to her sister and nephew, and so far she felt relieved that all seemed fine.
Catherine leaned forward in her chair to speak directly to her sister. “I thought Seán’s brother Jimmy spoke very well there at the end.” She turned to Joseph. “Would you mind changing places with me? I feel I’m being bad-mannered talking across you to Nance. It would be easier if you sat next to Angela and I’ll move up beside Nance.”
While they were moving seats, Fiona looked across at Angela and caught her eye. Angela raised her eyebrows and smiled and Fiona smiled back at her, thinking things were working out better than they had expected.
She could hear her Aunt Catherine enquiring after some of Seán’s other relatives she knew, and the two sisters sat talking in what Fiona thought was almost an easy way with each other.
Patrick came to the table to see if anyone would like a drink.
Bridget said, “I’ll have a glass of red lemonade, please, Patrick.”
He looked at Joseph. “Would you like a pint?”
“I would, thanks. I’ll have a pint of lager.”
Patrick looked at Fiona. “Would any of the ladies like a drink?”
There was a silence then Angela said, “I’ll have a Babycham, please, Patrick.” She looked down at her mother and her aunt. “Will you have the same?”
“Go on,” her aunt said, “you’ve twisted my arm.” She looked at Nance. “You’ll have one too, won’t you?”
Nance thought for a moment, then she looked at the barman. “I might as well. It might help me to sleep tonight.”
Fiona waited a few seconds until her mother was talking again, then she turned to Patrick and said in a low voice, “I’ll have a Babycham as well.”
He nodded and winked at her, knowing that Fiona didn’t want to draw attention to her having a drink in front of her mother.
The local National School headmaster and his wife came over to shake hands with all the family, and to speak to Nance for a few minutes. As they moved away, some local neighbours came to sit down at the other side of Nance, so she had to turn away from her sister and nephew to give the people her full attention.
Bridget looked across at her cousin. “Are you still playing music?”
“I am,” he said, “but I’m taking a break from playing with bands at the minute. I was in a rock band for a while, playing guitar, but the lead singer had to leave and it wasn’t the same without him. At the minute, I’m actually trying to write some music.”
Fiona raised her eyebrows, impressed at the news. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who writes songs before,” she said. “Is it the music you write or the words of the songs?” It had been so long since she had had a proper conversation with her cousin that she had almost forgotten what a really nice fellow he was. In a way he reminded her a little of Patrick. He had the same soft and kindly manner, although he was much younger than the barman and chattier. And of course he was also better looking, and had fashionable hair and clothes which made a huge difference.
“I’m interested in writing music and lyrics,” he said. “I did a short course a couple of years ago, and I really enjoyed it and picked up the basics.” He shrugged. “I’ve been out of work for a few weeks, and it’s a bad time of the year to find anything new, so I’m making the best of the time I have off.” He smiled and held his hands up. “Look, who knows if I’ll get anywhere with writing stuff, but I’m enjoying it which is the main thing.”
“I think it’s brilliant,” Angela said. “You never know where it might lead.”
Catherine turned around now to join in the conversation, her face flushing. “He’s never had time off work since he left school. It’s the first time he’s been out of work, so I’m sure he’ll find something soon.”
Fiona could tell her aunt was embar
rassed about Joseph being out of work.
“I don’t care what I do,” Joseph said. “As long as I get something to tide me over, and I can do my songwriting in my time off.”
Some more of Seán’s relatives came over to talk to Nance and the girls, and they sat talking for a while and gradually the bar began to empty.
“I think we had better be moving,” Catherine said, lifting her coat. She looked over to Nance now, who was talking to an elderly man who was a regular customer.
“Will you come back to the house for a while?” Fiona asked.
“No, we won’t, thanks,” her aunt replied. “We have to get back up to Dublin and it’s snowing again. You never know what the roads could be like. And the house will be cold with us gone since yesterday. By the time we get the fires going and everything it will be dark.”
“Well, we’re heading back up to the house now,” Angela said, “so we’ll walk you out to the car.”
Catherine glanced over at her sister, who seemed to be listening intently to the old man. “You go on ahead, girls,” she said. “I’ll wait to have a few words with your mother.”
Everyone started putting on coats and scarves and hats, and pulling on gloves. Joseph buttoned his heavy dark woollen coat up to the neck and put a checked scarf on over it, then he went to stand by Angela’s chair, holding his arm out for her to take it. Angela sorted her hat and gloves and put her handbag strap up on her shoulder and then she slipped her arm through her cousin’s.
As she walked with Bridget towards the door, Fiona again noticed the way Angela and Joseph walked together and chatted so naturally, and it struck her that Angela seemed easier with him than she did with her sisters.
In a few days’ time, she thought, Angela would be back in Dublin and Bridget back at the convent, leaving her home on her own with her mother. How different it was all going to be without her father in the house and in the shop and bar. Nothing would seem the same. Tears rushed into her eyes as realisation dawned once again that her beloved father was gone forever.
Chapter 12
The footpath had a dusting of snow over it. Walking carefully, Angela and Joseph reached the car, which was parked halfway between the bar and the house. When they came to a halt Fiona looked back and saw there was no sign of either her mother or her aunt.
“I’ll just put the engine on to warm the car,” Joseph said. He looked at Angela. “You’d be safer standing in against the wall.” He guided her over to the side and Angela unhooked her arm from his. Then, he opened the door and put the key in the ignition to switch it on. He leaned into the back seat and took out a snow-scraper, and came out to clear the front windscreen and then the back.
“I don’t know where Mam’s got to,” Bridget said, clapping her gloved hands together to warm them. “It’s far too cold to wait outside for her.”
“Why don’t you sit in the car for a few minutes?” Joseph suggested. “It heats up quickly.”
“You all get in and I’ll walk down to the bar and tell them to get a move on,” Fiona said. She went over to where Angela was standing and said quietly, “It’s a good sign they’re not back yet – it means they’re getting on better, thank God.”
“I was just thinking the very same thing,” Angela said in a low voice. “Although I think Aunt Catherine is a saint for being so nice to Mam after the way she’s treated her.”
Fiona felt a ripple of irritation. It was okay for Angela to complain, she wasn’t the one who was going to be left with Mam. In a few days’ time she would be heading back up to her own life in Dublin.
Angela gave a weary smile. “I shouldn’t be moaning about Mam – it’s probably just because my leg is sore and I’ve a bit of a headache. I’m sure none of us feel at our best with all that’s happened over the last few days.” She halted. “It’s good that they’re getting on better, especially at a time like this. It’s better to look forward than look back, isn’t it? That’s what Daddy would have said.”
“It is,” Fiona said. “And you’re right, we all feel the same.”
She put her arm out the way that Joseph had done, and was pleased when Angela took it and they carefully walked over the snowy pavement to the car where Bridget and Joseph were busy chatting away. When Angela was safely inside, Fiona told them she would be back in a few minutes.
She went back to the bar as quickly as she could on the slippery path. She reached the main entrance and was about to go inside to the bar when she thought she heard someone in the shop. Then she heard her mother’s voice. The tone of it made her freeze.
“I don’t want to hear anything more about Joseph coming down here again. This idea you have of him coming down to work here in the bar is ludicrous. We don’t need any more help. Patrick and Fiona and myself will manage perfectly well.”
Her throat tightened in apprehension. It was clear her mother was talking to her Aunt Catherine.
“But what if Fiona decides to go to New York in a few months?” her aunt asked.
“Fiona has told me that she has no plans to go now, and I don’t think she’ll want to go at all after what has happened. And if by any chance she does decide to go, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. But if I decide to take on more staff, that will be my decision and nobody else’s.”
“But you know that Seán wanted Joseph to work in the bar. As soon as I mentioned that he had lost his job, he offered to help.”
“Don’t bring Seán into this. And I don’t know how you can stand there and talk about that night.”
“Nance, you know I’m speaking the truth. And I wasn’t going to bring this up today of all days, but you’re leaving me with no option. Seán suggested this a while back. He dropped in at the house on his way home from Dublin, and we got talking about Joseph and he asked me what I thought about him coming down to work for him.”
“You’d like me to believe that, wouldn’t you?” Her mother’s tone was low, but full of vitriol and anger. “You can say anything about Seán now he’s gone. He was a good, kind man and I know he would have done anything to help anyone – but you’re not going to use him to force me into having Joseph down here to work beside us and no doubt live with us as well.”
“I don’t understand how you can treat Joseph as if he’s a black stranger to you. You, my only sister.”
“You know why,” her mother said. “You know perfectly well why I don’t want him down here. When I wanted to see him – to see you both – you told me that I couldn’t. You even moved back over to England to get away from me – you did everything to put as much distance between us as you could. Well, you should have been satisfied when your plans all worked – I left you both alone – isn’t that what you wanted? Isn’t that what you told me?”
Fiona listened now as her aunt started to cry. “Oh, Nance,” she said, “you’ve twisted everything. You know why I had to do that. At the time you weren’t well.”
“And you know why I wasn’t well,” her mother said. “It was the situation with you and Joseph that brought it all on. I got over it all – I had no option – and I got on with my life with Seán and the girls. That’s what you wanted, and it suited you for years not to have anything to do with me, didn’t it?” There was a strained silence. “Admit that, at least, Catherine. You’ve painted me as the bad one all these years. Give me the courtesy of admitting the truth over that, and don’t make out I’m mad and imagined it all.”
Fiona held her breath, still listening, and trying to work out what it was all about.
“Yes,” her aunt said, “I did ask you to leave us alone, and yes, we did move over to England – but that was because of Kenneth’s work. I had no choice at the time. I didn’t move there to stop you seeing Joseph. You know that Kenneth made all those decisions, not me.”
“Well, you went along with him. It suited you.”
“It didn’t. I would have rather stayed in Dublin and that we had worked this thing out between us.”
“You could have refused
to go.”
“I couldn’t. You know what Kenneth was like. And I was young, Nance – we were both young. It wasn’t easy for me starting all over again in England with a toddler.”
“Don’t expect me to feel sorry for you about that now, Catherine. I remember when it all happened. You just upped and left and I was left for weeks not even knowing where you’d gone.”
“Kenneth wouldn’t let me write. He was afraid you would follow us.”
“Well, he must have been happy that I didn’t. I picked myself up and got on with my own life, with no help from you. And by the time you moved back to Dublin, and decided you wanted to see me again, I had my own life and family.”
“I tried to see you, I did everything I could. I kept hoping I’d see you up at the hospital visiting Angela, but you never came.”
“Don’t you dare!” Her mother’s voice was louder now and vicious. “Don’t you dare bring Angela into this!”
Fiona flattened her back against the wall now, shocked at her mother’s reaction. There was much more going on between her mother and her aunt than anyone had envisaged.
“Look, Nance,” her aunt said, her voice shaky and uncertain, “I came here today to honour Seán’s memory and to support you and the girls. I thought the world of him, he was a lovely man. I know things weren’t easy for you earlier on, but you had a great marriage and a great family together.”
“I know all that,” her mother said, “and if things hadn’t happened, we might still have him. If he hadn’t got all worked up after we had been to your house, then he might never have had the heart attack. He might still be alive.”
Fiona put her hands over her mouth and closed her eyes. Mam had actually said it. She had more or less accused her aunt of causing her father’s heart attack.
“Oh, Nance,” Aunt Catherine said, “that’s the most hurtful thing you’ve ever said to me. And you’ve said a lot of very hurtful things over the years.”
“It’s the truth! He was fine that day after we came back from the hospital. He was fine when we were visiting Angela, and he was fine at your house until you brought up all the stuff about Joseph working for us.”
A Letter From America Page 9