“You didn’t come here, Rory, to make suggestions about the house,” his mother stated.
“True, Mom. Gwen and I spent the week of the August holiday in Dublin with Kate and her young son.”
Genevieve McCormack received this news in silence, and then as though he had said Kate was gravely ill, asked, “How is Kate?”
“She is doing well now. She’s now working part-time at a hospital in Dublin. She’s been through a very difficult time. She’s had to wash toilets in a cinema up to two days before the birth of her child in order to survive.”
“Good Lord, Rory, why didn’t she come to one of us for help?”
“She did. She asked Kieran for advancement on her inheritance, but he told her that was out of the question until she was twenty-five years old.”
“That’s nonsense,” she replied now turning to Kieran. “Why didn’t you tell me she came to you for money?”
“Dad specified age twenty-five so her inheritance wouldn’t be squandered away. She didn’t say why she needed the money. How was I to know she was in such desperate straights?”
“How very judgmental of you! You forced our sister to give birth in a small unheated two-room cottage without indoor plumbing instead of in a hospital.”
“She could have died!” their mother uttered in horror.
“Perhaps you should sit down, Mom,” Rory said lifting a chair and bringing it towards her. She sat down and leaned back into the chair with her arms resting on the armrests.
“Would you like water, Mom, or a cup of tea?” Rory asked. She waved her hand, rejecting this suggestion. After a few moments, she spoke.
“How could you have treated my daughter, your only sister, so horribly?”
“When Kate came to visit, you didn’t exactly welcome her,” Kieran declared in his own defense. “You were more concerned about what the neighbors might think.”
“Yes, and for that I am ashamed. From the moment she left this house that day, I regretted my actions.” Looking at Rory she asked, “Was she alone giving birth?”
“No. Her neighbors were there to help her.”
“How can they help her? They must be rather poor to live in that place. After her father died, Kate seemed drawn to the disadvantaged in life, like the Gillespie boys. It embarrassed me that she neglected her respectable friends to do so.”
“In our grief, we pretty much ignored Kate. Ronan Gillespie had lost his father, and so she could speak to him about her own loss.”
“She lived among that kind of people in Dublin?”
“Mom, she was poorer than they were, and pregnant.”
“Kieran, why did you not inform me? I would have given her the money she needed,” Genevieve said, not so much as an accusation as in disappointment and sadness. She rose from the chair saying, “I’ll have Sarah bring us in some tea.” After she left the room, Kieran spoke.
“What I did was follow the terms of Dad’s will.”
“What you did was despicable.”
“How come she didn’t go to you, brother?”
“She got her ‘friends and foes’ mixed up. Of course, she never knew how angry you were when Dad’s will was read and you found he left his money: a third to Mom, a third to Kate and a third to be divided equally between you and me. You thought the remaining two thirds should have been divided equally between the three of us. So you made Kate pay for Dad’s generosity to her.”
“Is that true?” Genevieve asked from the doorway.
“Of course not, Mother. It’s just Rory’s way of making things difficult for me. Sure, I was upset at the time that Dad did not divide his money evenly among the three of us, but that certainly had nothing, nothing whatsoever, to do with my upholding Dad’s wish that Kate’s inheritance remain intact until she was twenty-five years old. And I can honestly state, I did not know how much she needed the money at that time.”
“Nevertheless, I’m appalled that you kept Kate’s request for money from me.”
“But, Mom . . .”
Kieran’s words were cut off by the maid’s knock on the door. As requested she brought in the tea tray. An awkward silence transpired while the maid put down the tray, asking if anything else was required, and then left the room.
Does this girl think we just sit here silently looking at each other, Rory wondered. What did she think when Kate and Eoin came to visit? She, no doubt, couldn’t wait to leave that day and spread all the news and her version of what was happening at the McCormack house. Someone has to break the silence; Mom’s statement that we should help ourselves doesn’t count.
“Well, Kieran, how are your girls?”
“You’d know how they were doing if you came to visit Mom more often. We’re here for dinner every Sunday.”
“Every Sunday! That doesn’t give you much of an opportunity to reciprocate?”
“Mom spends Christmas Eve and Christmas day with my family. You don’t even visit your nieces at Christmas. Last Christmas you and Gwen spent a week in Austria skiing and spent the previous Christmas in Paris.”
“Well, this year we plan to be in Ireland for Christmas, and Gwen and I invite all the family to join us.”
“I told you, Mom always comes to our home for Christmas.”
Putting his teacup down Rory praised his mother, “Good tea, Mom. Under your guidance, Sarah has learned to make an excellent cup of tea. I must leave now.”
He rose and kissed his Mother on the cheek, and gave his brother a friendly whack on the back which caused him to double over. “Perhaps this Christmas the whole family can get together. Would that not be a grand celebration?” Rory said, as he walked towards the door and, closing it behind him, left the house.
“Do you think Uncle Rory and Aunt Gwen have ‘Trick or Treat’ at their house?”
“I’m sure they do. With a college full of students, I’d say it is a big celebration.”
“I don’t want to be a ghost with a pillow case over my head again, Mom.”
“What would you like to dress as this year?”
“A pirate.”
“So it shall be,” his mother laughed.
“That’s great,” Eoin enthused while jumping up and down. “What will I wear?”
“Well, there’s that chair leg out in the woodpile we could fix into a peg leg for you. I have a scarf we can tie around your head, and I can tape the toasting fork over your hand as a crook. I’ve put a cork into the fire to blacken, and I’ll remove it just before supper so it will be cool enough to draw a big moustache on your face and some big bushy eyebrows. I’ll lend you a big earring, but you must not lose it or my head scarf.”
“Wait ‘til David and Michael see my costume. Will they be surprised!”
“What will they be dressed as?”
“I don’t know. Their mother said she would look for something. Tommy isn’t dressing up this year. He said he’s too old to do that sort of thing any more.”
“Eoin, Grandfather O’Toole stopped by today. He asked that you and your friends don’t forget to go to his cottage tonight.”
“They’re scared to, Mom.”
“Well, you’re not scared of him, are you?”
“No.”
“He bought a bag of apples and nuts especially to hand out tonight. You must go and make a call to his cottage, and bring your friends with you.”
“Mom is the supper ready yet? I want to get dressed up.”
“You have time,” Kate laughed at her son’s eagerness for the fun to begin.
After supper, Kate tied Eoin’s leg back from the knee with a leather belt that had once belonged to Francis. I hope he will not fall and hurt himself. If he were a girl, I could have dressed him as a gypsy girl in a flowing skirt and shawl or some other safe costume instead of having him hobble around on a chair leg.
When I was growing up, Mom always had a Snow White or some such non-inspired costume made for me, which I always felt foolish wearing. She was aghast the All Hallows Eve I said I wanted to be Cinderella. It w
as out of the question, of course, as Mom would have purchased the material for my costume and given it to the seamstress weeks ahead of time.
“Hold still, Eoin, until I get the curl of this moustache on your cheeks.”
Hearing a knock, Eoin, called out, “Come in.” Michael and David entered wearing some hand-me-down clothes on loan from their uncle who shared the cottage with them.
“You boys are early.”
“My mother said we were to get out before we drove her crazy,” David answered for both of them.
“I see. So you’re both tramps this year?”
“Yes. Mom said we ruined her mother’s clothes that we wore last year. It wasn’t as though Grandma was going to wear them again. She’s been dead since before we were born. But Mom said one never knows when someone might need a couple of black dresses,” David explained, again speaking for his brother who could have passed for Walt Disney’s dwarf Bashful, without need for a costume. “Why does Eoin call Old Man O’Toole Grandpa?”
“You’ve just spoken the reason.” In answer to the quizzical look on the boys’ faces, Kate explained. “Respect for your elders. I don’t want Eoin to call this gentleman, Old Man O’Toole, and Grandpa seems appropriate.”
“Can we call him Grandpa, too?”
“I can’t think of any reason why not. I just mentioned to Eoin before you arrived that Mr. O’Toole would enjoy a visit from you all.”
“But we never go to his cottage!”
“Well, tonight is a good time to start doing so.”
“Might he chase us away?”
“I wouldn’t think so. I saw him around noontime today, and he had a bag of lovely shiny apples and some nuts,” Kate answered, although she had not actually seen the apples but had faith in O’Toole’s word.
“Come on let’s go, Eoin,” David said, anticipating an adventure.
“Don’t go past the water tap,” Kate told Eoin.
“Can we not go the houses on the street at the end of the lane?” David asked.
“Well,” she paused to count the houses. “If you stay together and are careful crossing the road, you can go to the six houses on this side and the five houses on the other side, making just one trip across, and one trip back.”
The boys were delighted at the thought of all the loot they were about to receive, and left the cottage—a merry band on Trick and Treat night.
This was the night Eoin O’Toole changed his image for the people of the lane. True, he would not socialize with the people after that night was spent, but the memory lingered on, and they smiled at him when they saw him pass by. To the children he became “Grandpa” from that evening onwards. If one looked carefully, when “Grandpa” was spoken, one could catch a smile on Eoin O’Toole’s face.
In late autumn, the lone figure of an elegantly-dressed mature woman walked up the lane. She hesitated a few steps after the water tap for she saw no names or numbers on the doors, not that she knew what number she was looking for, but the taxi driver had assured her this was the place as he dropped her off at the bottom of the lane. The anonymity of the place seemed to silently say “intruders keep out.”
She was an intruder! Her very shoes objected to walking on cobblestones. Trying to avoid breaking the heels of her shoes, Genevieve walked with an unnatural stride, assuming there were no witnesses to her ungainly steps.
What am I doing in this backward place? After much wavering back and forth, I made the decision. All I need to do now is find Kate’s cottage, take her and the child to lunch, discuss matters, and leave from the city without returning to this dreadful place.
A woman, wearing a wrap-around apron, with a basin of sudsy water held by both hands and balanced on her hip, looked surprised to see her. While Genevieve McCormack decided whether to ask this woman for information or not, the woman passed by and emptied the water down the drain, and washed the basin. Now holding the basin with one hand, the woman was about to disappear behind one of these unmarked doors when Genevieve spoke.
“Excuse me. I’m not sure I have the right place. I’m looking for Kate McCormack.”
“Kate, who?”
“Sorry. She’s now Kate Egan, and she has a small son.”
“Oh, Kate. She’s in number eight, but she’s at work. I’m Monica, a friend of Kate’s. She’ll be home in about an hour.”
“I’m her mother.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” Monica said, as though they might quickly become friends, and extended her hand to the older woman, clasping Mrs. McCormack’s white-gloved hand in her own. “Here, let me show you, it’s the fourth house down,” the woman said leading the way. She unlatched the door and opened it to allow Genevieve to enter. “Young Eoin is in Peg’s house. I’ll go get him so you can wait with your grandson.”
“No,” Genevieve said, too abruptly to the point of embarrassing herself. What grandmother wouldn’t want to see her grandson while waiting for her daughter? Children are very observant. I had not spoken to the child when Kate and he came to visit me. How much of our conversation did he hear or understand?. He would have tuned into the sound of our voices, which weren’t friendly. What if this woman brought him and he ran out of the cottage to be away from me?
The woman put the washbasin on the floor.
“Would you like a cup tea?”
“Yes. Thank you.” But Genevieve made no attempt to make it. She sat down. Whereupon, Monica poured water from the large enamel water jug into the teakettle and turned on the gas jet underneath it. Then opening the cupboard she took out a cup, saucer, plate, and spoon and placed them on the table. After putting the sugar on the table, she discovered the milk jug was empty.
“She’s out of milk, which is not a problem. I’ll go down to my cottage and get you some.”
“No, please, I can drink it black.”
“It wouldn’t be any trouble.”
But the older woman politely raised her gloved hand in protest.
Monica would have appreciated the small break, for she was perplexed as to what to do for this woman who seemed so uncomfortable and out of place in Kate’s cottage. After the water came to a boil, Monica scalded the teapot and then threw the water into a basin. She opened the tea canister and put in two rounded teaspoons to make two cups and an extra teaspoon for the pot and poured in the scolding hot water. Putting the pot on a hot part of the stove away from the flame, she covered it with a tea-cozy and let it brew. She felt the woman’s eyes on her every move. It’s not natural, she thought, for a grandmother not to want to see her grandchild! People with money have strange ways. Why does this woman, whose clothes look like they were bought on Grafton Street, have a daughter who works so hard to make ends meet? Monica cut some homemade brown bread and put it on a plate for Genevieve. Taking the butter off the shelf, she placed it on the table.
“Well, enjoy your tea. I’ll be getting myself home now,” and picking up her basin, she left the house.
As soon as Monica left, Genevieve got up from the chair and looked around for a calendar in the hope that her grandson’s birthday would be marked on it. She found none.
After she had finished the first cup of tea, Genevieve wondered where the bathroom might be. She opened the door to the left, but saw it was a bedroom. Was this the room Kate gave birth in? After several moments she closed the door on all that had taken place in that room. Not finding a toilet inside the cottage, she opened the back door which led into a small yard, but none was there either. That’s it—nothing more. Why, she thinks, when we gave Kate everything, did she end up a pauper?
Genevieve looked at a wedding picture of a time long past that stood on a shelf. No wedding picture of Kate or this man she is supposed to be married to. Who is the boy on the pony? There he is again with the bridal couple, now in work clothes standing on each side of him. And here is the boy again with the same couple and another couple.
No photographs of Kate or her son. He’s a handsome boy. I wish I had acted better towards him on ou
r first meeting. I was so angry with Kate. My only daughter married, and she hadn’t invited me, her own mother, to her wedding. She gave birth to a child who was already walking and talking before she informed me of his existence. From what Rory told me, it’s all quite complicated. Her son is not the child of her husband. It seemed she was pregnant when she got married. Why did her husband leave her before the child was born? Could it be that he did not know she was pregnant when they married?
I was so happy when Kate was born. I had what I always wanted—a daughter. I envisioned us in the years ahead becoming best friends.
Helping herself to a second cup of tea, she cut and buttered some more bread. Genevieve noted this bread was not her own recipe, but it was good; very good, she thought. It’s probably a recipe from that awful woman who used to cook for us. She loved Kate and Kate her. She didn’t mind Kate’s endless questions or when she messed up in the kitchen. Rather she encouraged it. She was a foul-mouthed woman who didn’t know her place and was disrespectful, but she had the patience of a saint with children. And in her kitchen, Kate was her enthusiastic student.
Kate’s father wasn’t a fussy eater. One could put anything on a plate before him, and he’d eat it. He usually left all domestic affairs to me, but he forbade me to fire that cook. That, of course, caused me to dislike her even more.
Eoin took Kate from me. He told her she could become whatever she wanted, when the only possibilities open to her were the medical field: nurse, or doctor, or teaching. I made special trips to Dublin to buy her clothes. It broke my heart when I bought her that expensive sapphire blue mohair sweater which looked beautiful on her, only to discover she gave it to the ragman who came around collecting old clothes. Her father did not back me up on that. He merely said, “She obviously didn’t like it as much as you did.”
I can’t wait another moment! Two cups of tea and no bathroom! Walking out the back door, she looked around her. There she saw a drain, a rain barrel, a wood shed and a wall about eight feet high surrounding the yard. Kate has reduced me to this intolerable situation. What facilities does she use? The wall is high. There is nothing except the squawking seagulls overhead. Yet Genevieve McCormack was reluctant to expose any part of her body.
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