“Yeah, I reckon so. I’ve tackled bigger things, so it should be okay.”
“And where did you learn that?”
“University, when I trained as an architect.”
He said it matter of factly as though that’s what everyone did, and Fiona suddenly felt childish now, and out of her depth. What did she know about plans for houses and that sort of thing?
“Well, that explains why you would have that kind of interest in houses and buildings, and why doing up a little cottage would be no trouble to you.”
As he had talked, she had formed a picture of the old derelict place in her mind, even though she had never been to Connemara and was not even sure where Clifden was. She wished the cottage was closer to Tullamore, as she thought she would like to see the work starting on it, and then watch it progress.
Fiona suddenly saw Maggie at the door of the snug, smiling over at her and winking and she felt herself blush as though the hairdresser could read her silly thoughts.
Maggie waved. “Come back in and sit with us,” she said. “It’s cosier in here. There are drinks here for you both, and Patrick is joining us as well.”
Michael smiled at the hairdresser. “Ah, that’s very kind of you.” He picked up his drink and finished it off.
“I’ll be there in a few minutes,” Fiona said, pushing her chair back and standing up. “It’s been a busy night and I don’t want to leave Patrick doing everything on his own.” She didn’t want to look too eager to join Michael O’Sullivan. She made a show of looking over to the bar, where Patrick was lifting the last few glasses and wiping down the tables, having seen the last customers out and locked the door after them.
Maggie came into the bar now. “We’ll all help and it’ll be done quicker and then everyone can sit and relax for half an hour.” She turned to call back into the snug to her friend. “You don’t mind picking up a few glasses, do you?”
Fiona tried to protest but Maggie wasn’t listening. Anne came into the bar now, and Maggie picked up cloths from the counter, and gave them to her friend and to Michael O’Sullivan and then they went around clearing and wiping the tables that Patrick had not yet done.
Ten minutes later, the bar was clean and tidy and they were all back seated in the snug, Maggie, Anne and Patrick on chairs, and Michael and Fiona on the bench .
“Ye should come every night!” Patrick said, lifting the glass of brandy that Maggie had bought him. “It would make my job a whole lot easier.” He took a drink and then sat back in his chair.
The little glint in his eye told Fiona that he was pleased with the help and the unexpected turn that the night had taken with the girls in the snug, and then the American suddenly turning up. It struck her that maybe even Patrick liked a change in routine.
As she looked around at the others, chatting and laughing, and then thought back to the crowds earlier, it occurred to her that it was the first night she had enjoyed in the pub since her father died.
When Patrick got into a discussion with Maggie and Annie about a friend who had recently moved to Galway, Michael moved along the bench closer to Fiona.
“I hope I didn’t bore you with all that talk about buildings and my plans about renovating?” He smiled. “I know Americans have a reputation for having big ideas, but I don’t want to come across like that. I hope I come across as a more down-to-earth kind of guy.”
“You didn’t bore me at all,” she said. “I enjoyed hearing all your plans, and I really hope you get the cottage. It’s a lovely idea to buy it for your mother – it’s very thoughtful.”
“Thank you, that means a lot to me.”
She lowered her voice. “I think people should make plans. Believe it or not, I actually had plans to move to New York myself – not even a year ago. But then everything changed...” She halted, catching her breath at the memory of what had happened. “Well, things changed at home – and it became impossible.”
“Go on,” he said. “You have me intrigued now.”
Fiona could see him now, smiling at her, waiting to hear all about it. But she couldn’t start telling a complete stranger all about her father’s sudden death and then how things had been with her mother since. She couldn’t say how disappointed she was that her plans had come to nothing, and how fearful she was of being stuck at home with her mother and becoming a bitter old spinster. Like all the Americans she had met, she guessed he was only interested in hearing about big plans that actually worked out. But, she had started now, and she had to tell him some version of her story.
“Well,” she started, “I have a good friend called Elizabeth who is working in Park Avenue in New York –”
“Park Avenue – wow! That’s a top area. She must be doing good. What does she do?”
She faltered, realising that he thought Elizabeth was some kind of important businesswoman. “Oh, it’s nothing important, she’s not a businesswoman or anything like that. She works for a family there, in a big apartment.” She spoke quickly now, making sure he got the true picture. “She helps with the housekeeping and the general running of the house. We’re good friends and she was anxious for me to join her out there because she said it was the sort of life that would really suit me. We both feel we want something different from here.”
“Well, New York is very different from here,” he said, “and that’s for sure –” He halted, as though not wanting to sway her opinion.
She glanced at him and then looked away, suddenly wondering if she sounded naïve. “Anyway, the family needed someone to help with the children, and she put in a good word for me, and the lady of the house asked me to send out my educational qualifications and references.” She shrugged. “They were happy with everything, so they offered me the job. I thought it was worth it for the experience. I thought, if it didn’t work out, I could always come home.”
He smiled at her. “I think you would love it. New York is the heart of America, and a great place to start off in. I worked in Manhattan for a couple of years, which is the centre of the city. But recently, I’ve been working more in Boston.”
“Is that far?” she asked.
He calculated. “Driving – around four hours.”
“That far?”
He smiled. “That’s not far for America. People travel long distances there. A day’s drive isn’t unusual.”
“It sounds far enough to me.” She calculated. “I suppose it’s about the same distance as going to Cork. People here would think that’s far enough to go for a week’s holiday.”
“Well, this is a small country. I suppose it’s all relative.” He leaned in towards her. “Tell me what happened to your plans about New York, if it’s not too personal.”
“Well, it’s not really that personal now – everyone here knows all about it.” She looked him square in the face. “I had all my cases packed, my passport sorted and everything organised to go to America when my father suddenly died. It happened only days before I was supposed to go.”
His face became solemn. “I’m so sorry...I had no idea it was something as serious as that.” He held his hand up. “Please, you don’t have to tell me any more if it’s too painful to talk about.”
“I’m used to living in a small place where everyone knows your business. The people who come into the shop or bar knew I was going, and why my plans were suddenly changed.”
“It must have been a terrible shock to all your family.”
“It wasn’t just losing my father, it was the effect it had on my mother. She became ill shortly afterwards and I just couldn’t leave her.”
“Well, family are very important. I think I would feel the same if my own mom was sick. Sometimes you have to make choices you don’t want to make – but it’s the right thing to do.”
“That’s exactly how it was,” she said. And then, because she felt he really understood her situation, she found herself telling him about Angela living her own life in Dublin, and Bridget at the convent training to be a nun.
&nbs
p; Patrick interrupted them briefly, when he brought back another round of drinks from the bar. “I’ll sort it with you in the morning,” he told Fiona.
She nodded, knowing that she wouldn’t take the money off him, but pleased that he had offered to pay for the drinks in front of the others.
Maggie beckoned to Fiona and Michael. “We want to hear all about your plans while you’re over in Ireland, Michael. Where you’re going and what kind of things you’re going to be doing. Anne has just been telling us all about the racing and the sailing down in Galway. Would that be the kind of thing you’d be interested in?”
He grinned at her. “I am interested in absolutely everything to do with Ireland, and I’ll be very happy to listen to any suggestions you have.” Then, he turned to Fiona and quietly said, “We can finish our talk later, if that’s okay?”
The way he looked at her made her neck start to flush. And, as he turned back towards the others, she suddenly realised that she liked him. She liked him a lot. And something made her think that he liked her too. Where, she wondered, could it possibly lead? What was the point of getting involved with someone who she knew was going to be travelling back home in the next few weeks? Someone she would never see again. It could only lead to more unfulfilled wishes and dreams. She’d had enough of those.
She picked up her drink now and took a sip. What harm was there in being friendly with him, she reasoned. If she ever did go out to New York, it might be good to have another contact out there – they might meet up again. Then, she caught herself. There was no point in running ahead of things. She would wait and see what happened.
Almost an hour later, when they had finished the last round of drinks, Fiona reluctantly called a halt to the night. “If we stay any longer,” she told the two girls, “I’ll never make it up in the morning to make the breakfasts for the men staying upstairs.” She could feel the effects of what she had drunk already and, afraid of making a fool of herself, she had moved from Babycham to lemonade shandy.
Maggie and Annie started to put their coats on.
“If you want to go on with the girls,” Patrick told Fiona, “I’ll turn the lights off and lock up.”
Fiona was disappointed that she hadn’t had a chance to say goodnight to Michael on her own. She knew it would look rather obvious that she liked him if she made an excuse to stay on after Maggie and her friend had left.
Her thoughts were correct. As soon as they were outside the bar door, Maggie turned towards her. “You’re mad rushing home, Fiona! That lovely American lad obviously fancies you! You should have stayed on – you should have had another few drinks with him – got to know him a bit better.”
Fiona could now see the effects the drinks had had on Maggie, and was glad she’d been more careful.
“I was watching you,” Maggie went on. “The way the pair of you were chatting away as though you’d known each other for years. I’d say he’ll be very disappointed you’ve gone off now and he’s left there chatting with Patrick.”
Fiona raised her eyebrows as though she didn’t know what Maggie was talking about. “Do you think so? I didn’t notice anything.” She knew she shouldn’t care what others thought, but she didn’t want to be the subject of light-hearted gossip in the hairdresser’s the next day.
Maggie looked at her friend. “What do you think, Anne?”
Anne raised her eyebrows. “Sure, it was fairly obvious he likes you. No doubts about it.”
They started to slowly walk up the street now.
Maggie laughed. “God, Fiona, could you not tell by the way he was looking at you? I’d say he’s very keen on you. He’s a lovely lad, not one of those Yanks who are constantly bragging about how great America is and full of big ideas. He’s a nice quiet type, down to earth and I’d say very genuine.”
Fiona guessed that Michael O’Sullivan had not told them anything about his plans to buy the cottage in Connemara – or the fact that he was an architect with fairly big ideas. She wondered what Maggie would have thought if she knew. Would she have thought he was a typical bragging Yank then too? She almost smiled at the thought.
“He does seem genuine,” she said, “and I do think he’s very nice, but it’s a bit complicated getting friendly with someone who lives so far away.”
Anne patted Fiona’s arm. “You should live for the minute. Enjoy your few days with him while he’s here. Who knows what could happen?”
“Exactly,” Maggie said. “You don’t want to miss any opportunities. When I look back over the years, I know I’ve missed plenty, and I’ll bet Anne thinks the same.”
Anne rolled her eyes. “Don’t talk. We thought we had all the time in the world, now we’re wishing we’d grabbed the best ones first time around. If you hesitate at all they’re gone.” She clicked her fingers. “Just like that. There’s always another girl waiting who sees the value in them that you took for granted. ”
A picture of Paul Moore suddenly flew into Fiona’s mind. She wondered if she would regret not grabbing her chances with him in a few years’ time.
“And who knows,” Maggie said, nudging Fiona’s elbow, “in twenty years’ time you could be living out in America with half a dozen kids.”
Fiona looked at her incredulously. “Are you mad? I’ve only just met him, and I’m sure the poor fellow would die with embarrassment if he heard what you just said.”
“Embarrassment be damned. He didn’t look like that when he was gazing into your eyes all evening. You would know just by looking at Michael O’Sullivan that he’s not the sort to be embarrassed when he’s with women. It’s well known that American lads are far more romantic than the Irish.”
“How do you know that?” Fiona asked.
“You can tell it from watching the films. The way they dance, and all those drive-in movies and everything.” She gave a dramatic sigh. “And the lads wearing those American Army uniforms are only gorgeous!” She dug Anne in the ribs now. “And don’t tell me that the only place their hands go is into the boxes of popcorn.”
Maggie shrieked with laughter and then Annie joined in.
Fiona eyes widened in shock. “I don’t believe you just said that! Imagine if anyone heard you!”
They both kept laughing and giggling and knocking against each other until they had to lean on a wall to support them. They looked so ridiculous and the worst for wear from drink that Fiona found herself laughing too.
The more they laughed, the worse they all three got.
“Come on!” Fiona said in a loud whisper, pulling Maggie by the arm. “We’ll have the neighbours coming out to see what’s going on if you make any more noise.”
“You’d better not mention the popcorn,” Anne giggled.
Maggie moved away from the wall and then started back into fits of laughter again.
“Oh, don’t! I’m going to wet myself if I don’t stop laughing.”
Somehow, Fiona managed to get them moving again, and heaved a sigh of relief when the other two crossed the road towards the hairdressing salon and she walked on home.
Tomorrow, she thought, she would be able to tell her mother that something different had actually happened.
Chapter 22
Fiona put her key in the door and opened it as quietly as she could so as not to disturb her mother. She was halfway along the hallway when she noticed something. She paused for a few moments and then it hit her. She could smell cigarette smoke. Her mother didn’t smoke and her father had given up a few years ago, so there had been no regular smokers in the house for a long time. Who, she wondered, had been in the house so recently, and so late at night?
Various scenarios started to run through her mind. Had something happened to her mother while she was out, and did a neighbour or someone else who smoked have to be called?
A feeling of alarm came over her. Then she began to reason with herself. If anything had happened to her mother and other people had come to help, someone would have run down to the bar to get her. There was no emerg
ency. Someone had been smoking in the house, and that was all.
She stopped at the foot of the stairs and called out “Mam? Are you okay?” There was silence. Fiona dropped her handbag and started up the stairs. She was halfway up when she heard a noise from below. She froze, listening, then she heard her mother’s voice calling.
“I’m fine! I’m here...downstairs in the kitchen!”
She leaned against the staircase, her hand over her thudding heart. She gave herself a few moments to catch her breath and then went back down towards the kitchen. The feeling of relief when she went in to find her mother sitting in the armchair by the fire was replaced by confusion when she saw the cigarette in her mother’s hand. She had never seen her mother smoking.
“What’s wrong?” her mother asked.
“I got a shock when I smelled the cigarette smoke...I thought someone else was in the house.”
“No, it’s only me. I thought a cigarette might just give me a bit of a lift. The last time the doctor was in – when he gave me the new tablets – he said to try and do little things I used to enjoy. I tried to read one of your magazines, but I couldn’t concentrate. I came down here to try to listen to the radio but there was only rubbish on, so I decided to try a cigarette.”
“But you’ve never smoked before!”
“Oh, I did – I used to be a demon for them when I was younger. I stopped when I was expecting you.”
“You never mentioned it. Neither did Daddy.”
Her mother shrugged. “I didn’t want to set you all a bad example when you were younger. I thought if I told you, it would only encourage you all to try it out. It’s not really a good habit and some people find it hard to stop it once they start.”
“Where did you get them? The cigarettes?”
Nance closed her eyes for a few moments as though deep in thought. “They were in the pull-down part of the desk in the sitting-room. Someone left nearly a full packet behind during the time of the funeral. They were on the mantelpiece. Mrs Mooney found them and I told her to put them in the desk in case anyone called back for them.”
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