by Paul Kelly
“Will we ...Will we be able to come to see you Aggie,” he stammered and there was a lump in his throat.
“Of course you will...”she said, but could say no more. Her feelings were deep and loving for the family she was leaving and although she had envisaged this moment time and time again, it was all so different now. The practice run had been so calculated; so barren; all so neatly cut and everything in place ... except the heart ... She wanted this moment to pass as quickly as possible as her younger brother shifted uneasily from foot to foot in his dust-covered working boots, looking at his sister again and with impulse, threw himself into her arms.
“Oh! Aggie, Aggie ...I’m going to miss you terribly,” he sobbed and wiped his tears with the back of his hand. Like her, in his times in the past when he knew this moment would have to come, everything was so different now when that moment had actually arrived. There were so many things he wanted to say to her but each word hurt as he tried to speak it. He wanted to tell her how lovely she looked and how proud he was of her. He wanted to tell her of the many lovely thoughts that were playing havoc in his mind.
He could hear himself speak strange, mysterious words and he wished he could have swallowed them.
“Charlie and I will miss you,” he had said. How could she have known that Charlie was inside him at that moment, screaming to get out; to add his love to that of the family? How could he tell her that? He held her at arms length, knowing he was about to break down and cry if he waited a moment longer and with one last, passionate embrace, he tore himself away from her and left the house, but as he walked along the street, towards the building Site, his tears fell warmly down his flushed cheeks. His eyes smarted and he licked the salted tears with his tongue,
“Oh! God How much more can I take?” he muttered, “How much more?”
***
Aggie got into the car with Mary and Tom and they drove to the convent in silence, arriving at the appointed time and a young nun ushered them into a sparsely furnished, but immaculately clean parlour. It was a small room with one large casement window at the side, where the sun shone down on the highly polished table and threw shadows over the walls as the trees blew their leaves about in the light and carefree wind outside and where a large crucifix with the figure of the dying Christ, gazed down soulfully, pleading as it were for the new arrival to stay with Him and be with Him for all eternity. The young Sister bowed her way from the room and left the trio with the agony of their thoughts. In front of them they became aware of a large, curtained area on the opposite side to the window. It too, was a window of a sort, but there was no glass instead they saw a grille of iron, with rough looking spikes, staring at them and daring anyone to pass beyond, into the inner sanctuary, where no man dare tread and where Christ alone ruled supreme amongst so many gallant and heroic women.
Suddenly in the silence that encompassed them, they could hear the noise of a door opening and closing behind the grilled curtain, before the thick dark veil was opened slowly. Even the silent swish of its movement was deafening in the eerie tomb-like silence of that small room and in front of them, on the other side of the grille, crouched down on the floor, sitting obviously cross legged, although it was impossible to see because of her long, brown habit, sat the Reverend Mother Gabriel. She lifted the veil from her face and let it fall loosely over her head and down over her shoulders. Her face was thin and pale, but remarkably smooth and without a wrinkle and her eyes were bright and sparkled with warmth as she smiled her greeting to her guests.
“Welcome to Carmel, my Dears. It is lovely to see you and I hope you are all well.”
She put her fingers to the grille inviting the family to touch them and Aggie’s heart best faster as she reached out to touch her thin fingers, where she could see a silver ring on the fourth finger of the nun’s right hand. Mother Gabriel spoke for a short time exclusively to Tom and Mary, but she smiled at regular intervals to Aggie to show that she did not preclude her from the company, but that her time would come. She spoke of the rigours and the joys that were experienced in that life that the nuns led in the convent and gradually, with a little joke thrown in her and there, Mary was quite surprised to realise how ‘human’ this holy nun appeared to be. She made funny remarks about some of the silly things that the nuns did and elaborated on the very human side of the contemplative life where they were totally enclosed and led a life under the three vows of poverty, chastity and obedience.
A bell sounded briskly in the distance and the Reverend Mother rose from her squatting position and bowed to her audience.
“Now it is the time for us to receive you, my daughter,” she said
as she turned to address Aggie and pointed to a narrow door at the side of the grille. “Good-bye my Dears. Don’t worry about your daughter. She has chosen the better path of life and God will take great care of her.”
Aggie kissed her mother and Tom before she entered through the narrow little doorway and the doors closed behind her. Mary could feel a surge of cold air running through her veins which chilled her whole body as Aggie disappeared from her sight. The scene reminded her of the crematorium where her first husband had disappeared in his coffin into the unknown. Tom took her hand. He was warming to the touch and they left the room together but Mary cried all the way home in the car. Tom drove in silence, looking ahead with pride and sadness in his heart over the scene he had just witnessed and Mary reflected on the sign that she had seen written above the grille
‘Carmel is a garden, where grows the blossoms that adorn the table of God.’
She sighed wearily and dried her eyes.
“Good-bye, my little flower...” she said softly, “If you serve God as well as you have served me, you will be the most beautifully perfumed bloom on His table.”
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Mary woke with a start. She had not slept at all well and Tom brought her coffee and toast in bed, together with a letter from Meggie.
“Postman’s been busy this morning,” he said, “Mostly bills, except for that one.”
He pointed to Meggie’s letter and raised his eyebrows as he glanced at Mary as she sat up in bed and opened her letter with great excitement. Her eyes quickly scanned the first page and then the second as she always read her mail in this way before she settled down to absorb the whole content.
“Tom,” she cried out excitedly, “Tom ... Meggie’s got engaged to be married.”
“Well, that’s lovely. Will she be home soon?”
Mary read on in silence, except for the crunching sound as she nibbled her toast.
“No...”she said, somewhat sadly, “She’s getting engaged out there as they want to get married as soon as they come home together on their leave. George sounds very nice from what Meggie tells me about him Tom. Look! See what you think?” She handed him the letter. “I wish I could have met him, though I wish I could have known a little bit more about him. I hope she’ll be happy.”
Tom put a consoling arm around her and pressed her close.
“Meggie’s a good girl, Mary. She’s got a good head on her shoulders and she knows what she’s doing. I’m sure she’ll be happy ...what about an engagement present ... any ideas?”
Mary looked to the ceiling and sighed again as she nibbled her toast and sipped her coffee. Her thoughts turned to the Convent again and to Aggie.
“I wonder if she slept alright, last night. I wonder what the beds are like ... Hard, I shouldn’t wonder, Tom...Wouldn’t you?” She pushed Meggie’s letter back into its envelope as she spoke, as if it was the least of her concerns. “It seems such a cold and lonely life for a young girl, doesn’t it Tom?”
Tom reflected on Mary’s statement.
“Yes ... I suppose it does, to us Mary, because we have each other, but I would be cold and miserable if I didn’t have you, so I’m sure Aggie is happy, since that is where her heart lies
.”
Mary thought for a few seconds and then she smiled.
“Yes, I suppose you’re right Tom as indeed you always are, bless you. You know that Reverend Mother ... she seemed happy enough, wouldn’t you say ... and I smiled when she told us about that young nun who tried to repair the blocked drain. Poor girl ... Someone should have told her that she would need a bucket before she started.”
Tom chuckled softly.
“They seem to be very practical ... don’t they Mary?”
“Yes they do and I always thought contemplative nuns went about praying all the time. I had no idea that they did most of their own jobs themselves like decorating and plumbing and things like that.”
“They make vestments too and altar breads for Communion When do they get the time to pray?”
Tom sighed in agreement with Mary’s thoughts and then his eyes lit up.
“Well there are sixty-four of them, Darling and that makes a hundred and twenty-eight hands, you know.”
Mary giggled and drank her tea.
“Now about this engagement present for our other lovely daughter”
“What did you say, Tom?”
He looked into her eyes and took the cup from her hand.
“Meggie’s engagement present for when she marries that young George Whatsisname.”
Mary sat upright in bed.
“Oh! Goodness ... I have just thought. We must get an engagement present for Meggie now that she’s getting engaged Dear. Mustn’t we?”
Tom smiled.
“Yes Darling I really think we should .” he said, but Mary settled down again resting her head on the pillow.
“Tom?”
“Yes Darling?”
She turned to face him.
“I think it’s ever so sweet that you referred to Meggie as our daughter,” she said softly. “I love you Tom Carey. I really, really do.”
“Well that’s alright then,” he said.
Chapter Fifty-Nine
“Mammy, I’ve invited Wattie and Blackie round to dinner on Sunday. Is that O.K?
Willie was cleaning his teeth as he spoke, making funny noises with his mouth.
“I’m sorry, I can’t hear you Darling. What was that you said?”
He repeated his announcement, minus the toothbrush and added.
“What a time to call a fellow up ...December 21st Just a few days before Christmas.”
“Yes, that’s fine Willie. I’ll see Tom and get some extra meat. They’re not vegetarians are they?”
The telephone rang as they were talking and Willie wiped his mouth with his towel as he lifted the receiver.
“Hello Yes ... of course. Well maybe when you get your first leave then, O.K? Have a nice evening and be good.” He replaced the receiver and shook his head as he smiled.
“Blackie won’t be coming to dinner on Sunday, Mammy. I think he has another engagement.” He grinned as he spoke.
“Oh! That’s nice,” added Mary sagaciously, “Anyone I know?”
Willie did not answer, but a certain young lady’s face came to mind, as she lost her hat on a particular lion’s head, one very memorable evening, just a short time ago. Blackie was a lucky guy. Nothing like that ever happened to Willie and he sat sulkily in the chair with his leg dangling loosely over the arm and swinging like a pendulum.
“Why couldn’t I have been called up for the Navy?” he sighed, “Just because of my bloody old heart ...”
“Get your feet on the floor, Willie Blair. You’ll ruin the chairs sitting that way.” Mary remonstrated and Willie obeyed immediately, if somewhat reluctantly.
“What was the Rheumatic Fever like, Mammy? You know . . . That thing I had when I was three?”
Mary dusted the clock on the mantelpiece and paused wondering how she could answer such a question.
“Oh! Lots of children had it in those days,” she lied as casually as she could.
“Did Charlie have it?”
Mary’s heart missed a beat and the clock shook under her duster. The thought of her dead son paralysed her mind for a second and she could not think clearly.
“No Darling ... He had Scarlet Fever.”
“Is there a difference, then?”
“Not a lot,” she lied a second time ... “Now how’s about a nice cup of coffee, eh?”
Willie knew she would talk no more about the fevers and gave up. He was sorry he had mentioned Charlie’s name when he saw his mother’s face as she went into the kitchen. He had thought that perhaps with brothers in the same family, there might have been a similarity as he sipped his coffee and looked at Mary over the top of his cup. Her eyes were fixed on a silver frame on the mantelpiece ... It was a picture of Charlie and he was smiling she would dust that another time.
“Have we any cake, Mammy?”
Mary went to the tin and cut him a large slice.
“The rationing is not getting any better, is it? I have to use carrots instead of fruit now. I hope it tastes alright and they say the war will soon be over. General somebody or other in the Middle East seems to be making the Germans sit up.”
“Montgomery,” Willie called out as he blew on his coffee.
“What was that, Willie?”
“Montgomery that’s the General’s name I think he’s related in some way to Wattie, Mammy. He comes from Moville in Northern Ireland and so does Mrs. Watts.”
Mary marvelled at the wisdom of her son as he sat munching his cake and making no mention of the chopped carrots.
“How do you know that, Willie?”
“Wattie’s Mammy told me once. Some time ago, I think. Yes, she did.”
He charged his mouth with more cake until his cheeks were blown.
“Wonder if old Monty needs any help out there in the desert?” he spluttered with crumbs falling aimlessly to the carpet, but Mary was still absorbed in the silver frame on the mantelpiece.
“Sorry, Love. I didn’t hear what you said.”
“Nothing Mammy, I just wish,” he said as he swallowed the last of his cake and sucked his fingers. “I might be getting the push from the building Site, you know.”
“Why ever would they do that “ Mary thought for a few seconds before she continued, “You’re not causing any trouble there, are you Willie?”
“No, Mammy. It’s just that they are not building any more at the moment.”
“What will you do then? Will they let you have some other kind of work?”
Willie hesitated and picked his teeth.
“We can get transferred and work on demolition.”
Mary put her cup down on the coffee table and wiped her mouth with her serviette.
“What demolition is there here Willie? We haven’t had that much effect from the bombing or anything like that. They had a bash at Clydebank. Will you go there?”
“Can I have another coffee please?”
Mary obliged but she watched her son intently as she poured from the percolator. It shook in her hand.
“I mean,” Willie continued, looking away from his mother. “I may have to go to London, Mammy.”
The lid of the coffee pot fell across the table with a crash and Mary wiped the spill. There was silence in the room; a silence of fear as neither mother nor son knew how to continue the conversation. He put his hand gently on his mother’s arm and squeezed and she looked at him sadly as her lips moved involuntarily.
“The last to flee the nest,” she muttered and looked into the fireplace, staring at the flames that leapt capriciously and without care. Her eyes went to the clock and then to Charlie’s photograph.
“I’d better get dusting again or I’ll never get finished before Tom comes home.”
***
Wattie arrived for the dinner
date and the snow was falling heavily outside as he kicked his shoes sharply against the snow-grid before entering the house.
“Nice an’ warm in here,” he said, “Hello Mrs. Blair. How are you?”
Mary clasped her hands.
“I’m fine Wattie thank you ...Just fine.” She hated calling the boy
Wattie even when everybody else did. “Let me take your coat. I hope you’re hungry.”
“I’m starving, Mrs. Blair. I’m always hungry Can eat anything, I can.”
Mary pondered over his last statement and hoped it was meant as a compliment as Willie appeared from upstairs and bounced down three at a time to greet his friend.
“Hello Willie. Nice to see ye again.”
“Hello Wattie. Are you looking forward to getting into the army?
Wattie grinned.
“Well, yes .and no,” he answered and looked around him to see if he could spot a table where they might be eating. The house was so big in comparison to his mother’s place and they always ate in the kitchen.
“Lucky devil ... you are.”
Mary looked hurt at Willie’s remarks. Why ever did he want to leave home? Why was he so desperate to get away? Had she done anything wrong? She had tried always to be a good mother. Tom interrupted her thoughts as he came into the lunge and spoke to Wattie.
“Hello young man. Keeping well? How’s your mother?”
Wattie smiled broadly and hunched his shoulders.
“She’s fine thanks,” he answered and then as an afterthought he added, “I’m fine too ...”
They went into the dining room for dinner and everyone enjoyed the meal where Tom had excelled with his extra ration of the best beef he had in the shop and the dessert was Mary’s home made sponge covered in a mixture of dried milk, thickened to a cream with the aid of cornflower. Tom handed the boys a cigar after the meal and Wattie laughed. He was truly made up as he threw out his chest and bravely called Tom by his Christian name.