Across a Summer Sea (14 page)

As they neared the flour mill on the banks of the Liffey they were joined by other girls and women, some calling out greetings and complaints about the rawness of the morning. A group joined them and the topic of conversation turned to the annual night out at Flattery’s Oyster and Porter Bar.
 

‘Ye
are
coming with us, Mary?’ Sarah Jane O’Brien demanded.
 

‘I don’t know if I can afford it,’ Mary answered doubtfully. She had never gone on such an outing in her life before and it took all her wages to feed and clothe them and give Molly a few shillings for the roof over their heads.
 

Sarah Jane wasn’t going to give up easily, though. ‘It’s only once a year!’
 

‘But you’ve all had a year to save up!’ Mary laughed.
 

‘Ah, go on, Mary. It’ll do you good to get out and enjoy yourself for once. I’ll give you a few shillings,’ Rita offered.
 

‘Rita, I couldn’t but it’s very good of you,’ Mary protested.
 

‘I can afford it, Mary. Didn’t you just say we’ve all been saving up. I’ll share with you.’
 

Mary smiled at her cousin. She really was a generous girl.
 

‘There now, ye’ve no excuse. We’ll have a grand night,’ Sarah Jane said triumphantly.
 

‘Ye never know, I might catch meself a decent feller,’ Kath Noonan laughed, winking at Mary.
 

‘And pigs might fly, Kath!’ Sarah Jane retorted. Kath had the knack of picking the most useless and unsuitable men in the city.
 

‘That one has her poor mam heart-scalded!’ Rita muttered to Mary. ‘She never seems to learn.’
 

‘Some never do,’ Mary whispered back.
 

‘Mary, you’re a fine-looking girl, you shouldn’t have any trouble getting yourself an eejit of a feller to give you a good time,’ Sarah Jane laughed.
  

‘I’m not looking for a feller, eejit or otherwise, thank you!’ Mary retorted good-naturedly. The women she worked with knew she was married but had been told that Frank had deserted her. It saved face and innumerable questions.
 

They all trooped into the bagging room where everything was covered in white dust. It got up your nose, into your eyes and hair and dried the back of the throat so much that after an hour or two talking was almost painful. Mary concentrated on the forthcoming evening and wondered what she had to wear that was halfway decent. Maybe on the way home Rita would accompany her to one of the street markets, although she didn’t have much money to spare. That was nothing new, she thought with resignation.
 

She had confided her thoughts to her cousin during their dinner break and they had been met with approval but at the end of the day she was sorry she had mentioned it. She was tired. Her arms and back were aching, her eyes felt gritty and there was a slight throbbing over her left eye.
 

‘Some fresh air will sort all that out and the chat will lighten your spirits,’ Rita stated firmly, dismissing her complaints. Rita enjoyed shopping.
 

The air, though far from fresh, did help and by the time they reached Henry Street, where they intended to do some food shopping first, Mary felt better. They wandered past the stalls heaped with vegetables from the country districts and Rita stopped and fingered some cabbages.
 

‘They’re not very big. How much are you wanting for them?’ she asked.
 

‘Two fer the price of one! The bargain of the day, ma’am, at a penny an’ I had nothing to do with the rearin’ of them. Blame that on the feller I had them off this morning when ye were still snug in your bed an’ I was out in the wet an’ the slime!’ the stall-holder replied.
 

‘Did you hear that, Mary? When we were in our beds! Weren’t we up before the dawn ourselves!’ Rita replied with spirit.
 

‘That’s as may be, ma’am, a penny is me price.’
 

‘I’ll take them even though they’re no more than babbies.’
 

‘There’s no pleasing some folk! Aren’t I after giving them away at that price and won’t they be gracin’ your bacon this very night, ma’am.’
 

‘Crubeens it is tonight,’ Rita shot back.
 

‘Begod! Crubeens an’ it’s only Thursday! There’s wealth for ye!’
 

Mary laughed. It was almost like being back in Great Homer Street Market.
 

Further down there were two or three women selling second-hand clothes and both girls rummaged through the piles.
 

‘Here, Mary, this will suit you very well,’ Rita called, holding up a brown tweed skirt. ‘She’s asking sixpence for it but it’s good thick tweed and plenty of wear in it yet.’
 

‘From the county of Donegal, too, ma’am, and a bargain,’ the woman added.
 

Mary looked doubtful. It was good quality and hardly worn but it was a bit dear.
 

Seeing the hesitation and not wanting to lose a sale at the end of a none-too-successful day the woman rummaged around and found a brown cord three-quarter-length jacket. ‘Now ye have a costume that’s fit for the Quality and for the bargain price of one and six! Doesn’t it look grand with the fine head of hair ye have, ma’am?’ As further persuasion the jacket was held against Mary’s hair.
 

‘It
does
suit you, Mary, and it’s great quality,’ Rita urged.
 

‘I can’t afford to buy it
and
have a night out,’ Mary hissed, feeling embarrassed.
 

‘Mary, haven’t I already said I’d treat you? Here, we’ll take it.’ Rita delved into her purse and handed the coins over before Mary could stop her.
 

‘God bless ye for the generous woman ye are!’ The stall-holder beamed at them both and handed over the folded clothes.
 

‘Oh, Rita! You’re too good!’ Mary cried, hugging her.
 

‘Don’t you deserve a bit of a treat? You work so hard and you never go out.’
 

‘But you haven’t bought yourself anything!’ Mary protested.
 

‘Ah, haven’t I the good coat Davy bought me at Christmas and the red wool skirt I bought myself at the same time and my good white blouse? Now we’d better get home or Mam’ll think we’ve deserted her and be giving out that she’s the crubeens boiled and no cabbage to go with them.’
 

When they arrived home it was to a scene of chaos. All the children seemed to be fighting or arguing except for Tommy and Brendan who were inexplicably sitting on Molly’s knees. Davy was in and was sitting by the fire engrossed in a newspaper, looking far from happy, and there was no sign of any meal being prepared at all.
 

‘In the name of all the saints, what ails you, Mam?’ Rita cried.
 

‘What’s wrong with those two?’ Mary demanded.
 

‘Haven’t the pair of them had the heart across me! Haven’t I been up at the Mater hospital with them for hours!’ Molly replied, glaring at her son-in-law.
 

‘And I a man coming in from his work to bedlam and no food on the table!’ Davy retorted, glaring back.
 

Obviously there had been a row, Mary surmised.
 

‘At the Mater? What for?’ Rita asked, looking concerned.
 

‘After school didn’t they go off to see the cattle being driven to the meat factory by Cork Street Fever Hospital? When the poor beasts are so terrified that they stampede down those narrow streets like the gathering swine and with the corner boys all roarin’ and chasin’ them.’
 

‘Brendan, haven’t I told you a hundred times to stay away from there on Thursdays? You know it’s the day the cattle are driven to the slaughter and don’t they know it too. Aren’t they mad with fear and terror!’ Rita cried.
 

Mary rushed across to her son who was looking pale and had bandages on his arm and leg. On Thursdays the cattle brought from the outlying farms were driven through the streets at a frightening pace by the drovers armed with sticks and no one was really safe as the poor, sweating, stumbling animals crashed about.
 

‘What happened, Tommy? Are you badly hurt?’
 

‘Mam, it was all so quick! We were standing on the corner by the Disinfectant Yard of the Fever Hospital and suddenly a group of them came at us! They were all frothing at the mouth and roaring! We tried to run into one of the shops but they were too quick and then I slipped and fell and one trampled me!’
 

‘Oh, Jesus, Mary and Joseph! You could have been killed!’ Mary cried, her face paling at the thought.
 

‘It’s only the mercy of God and His Holy Mother that they weren’t. Just cuts and bruises, the pair of them,’ Molly declared.
 

‘I should be takin’ me belt to the pair of ye!’ Davy growled.
 

‘Well, do you think that now a man could get some peace and a bit of something to eat?’ Davy shouted, losing his temper entirely.
 

‘And is that all ye care about, your belly?’ Molly shouted back. She had had such a fright when Tommy had limped in and told her that he and Brendan had been ‘trampled’, she was barely recovered herself.
 

‘Davy, will you sit down and read your paper. We’ll have the meal on the table in a few minutes,’ Rita tried to pacify him, feeling guilty that they had lingered at the market buying clothes.
 

‘There’ll be no meal on the table this hour is what I’m thinking! I might as well go to the pub!’ he replied, storming out.
 

‘Oh, Rita, I’m sorry! We shouldn’t have gone looking for clothes. If we hadn’t then we would have been home,’ Mary cried guiltily.
 

‘Ah, take no notice of that feller. Wasn’t he only looking for an excuse to go drinking. I could see the puss on him the moment he came in,’ Molly said derisively.
 

‘Mam, do you blame him? The place like a lunatic asylum, no tea and no sign of me either! Isn’t that enough to drive a man to drink?’ 
 

Mary thought it was time to intervene. ‘Right, all of you children in the other room! You too, Brendan and Tommy. And no noise out of you. Molly, put the kettle on while I make a start on this cabbage and put the pig’s feet in to boil. That’s the last time I go gallivanting after work!’ she declared firmly, catching up the big iron cooking pot and the cabbages, which had been hastily dumped on the table and forgotten amidst the uproar.

 

 

 

‘
Y
E LOOK VERY WELL, Mary. Those colours suit ye,’ Molly said admiringly.
 

Mary smiled and looked at herself in the mirror. Her aunt was right, the dark brown cord jacket was set off by the high-necked white blouse she’d bought in Paddy’s Market. She’d swept her hair up and the narrow-brimmed brown and beige hat she’d borrowed for the occasion was perched at a jaunty angle. She had put on a little weight and it somehow made her look younger than twenty-eight.
 

‘And red certainly suits Rita,’ she commented, smiling approvingly at her cousin who wore a red skirt, a white blouse and a smart red coat trimmed with black braid.
 

‘Don’t you be after having too much drink taken,’ Davy instructed his wife a little sharply.
 

‘Would you just listen to him that came falling in the door last Friday!’ Rita laughed good-naturedly.
 

‘Get off the pair of ye and enjoy yourselves,’ Molly urged, steering them both towards the door.
 

‘I’ve never tasted either oysters or porter,’ Mary confided as they walked to meet the others.
 

‘Then you’d better go easy with the porter or it will go straight to your head. They do say oysters are an acquired taste, but I like them well enough.’
 

‘Do they only sell porter?’ Mary asked, thinking that she’d really prefer a port and lemonade or even a glass of Madeira wine.
 

‘No, they sell all kinds of drinks.’ Rita laughed. ‘You can tell you don’t drink much.’
 

‘There was never the money or the occasion, except for weddings and funerals.’