Across a Summer Sea (15 page)
‘Well, you mind what I said and watch the porter.’
‘I will indeed!’ Mary promised.
They met up with the others on the corner of Anne Street and there were exclamations of delight and admiration for the outfits they’d all managed to conjure up - mainly by begging and borrowing from sisters, cousins and neighbours.
The Oyster Bar was a dark, low-ceilinged, smallish place further up Anne Street and was already crowded.
‘Sarah Jane, go and see if you can find us some room at that table over in the corner while Mary and me go and find a barmaid,’ Rita instructed.
Sarah Jane and the others pushed and elbowed their way through the throng, while Rita informed the barmaid: ‘There’s six of us for oysters and five for porter.’ Then she turned to Mary. ‘What will you have?’
‘Do you have any Madeira wine?’ Mary asked a little hesitantly.
‘Ma’am, this isn’t the Imperial Hotel!’ the woman replied with heavy sarcasm.
‘Then maybe port wine?’ Mary thought it best not to ask for lemonade as well.
‘A large or a small glass?’
‘Large,’ Rita said before Mary could reply. ‘We’re at the table in the corner.’
The men who had been occupying the table had moved after much light-hearted bantering with the girls and soon the drinks and the oysters were brought. Mary looked at the plate of greyish-green shells with apprehension. ‘How are you supposed to eat them? She’s brought no knives or spoons.’
They all fell about laughing at her inexperience until Rita explained that you just tipped them down your throat, directly from the shell.
‘Go on, Mary, they won’t poison you!’ Maura Grennan urged.
Mary lifted a shell gingerly to her lips.
‘Tip back your head!’ Sarah Jane instructed.
Mary did so and swallowed hard. It tasted salty and rather bland. It was a very strange experience.
‘Well?’ Maura enquired.
‘Not bad,’ Mary said cautiously.
Rita laughed and raised her eyes to the smoke-stained ceiling.
After three more drinks Mary felt decidedly light-headed but was enjoying herself. They were a lively group and there was much laughter and as the evening wore on the singing and the dancing began. It was mainly traditional dancing that Mary couldn’t do, but she was dragged to her feet for a couple of rather stilted and confined reels which left her breathless and flushed. When yet another glass of port appeared she protested but the irrepressible Sarah Jane just laughed and waved aside her protests.
Before she had time to take even a sip she was hauled to her feet by a tall and good-looking young stevedore.
‘Oh, please, I can’t catch my breath!’ she cried.
‘And sure a fine-looking girl like you can’t be sitting on your own!’ he laughed.
‘I’m not on my own.’
‘Well, I don’t see anyone else sitting with you. Come on and take a turn around the floor with me.’
‘It’s a bit crushed.’
‘ ’Tis nothing! I’ve seen fifty people on their feet in here many a night.’
She could say nothing else and so, smiling up at him, she let him guide her towards the dancers.
‘You’re not from Dublin, are you?’ he shouted over the din.
‘No. Liverpool.’
‘I was in Liverpool once myself, a grand place it is.’
‘It is indeed.’
‘So, why did you leave it?’
‘My husband . . . died, so I came to live with my aunt.’ She could have bitten her tongue. Now he would think she was available. ‘But I have my children to care for,’ she added hastily.
‘How many have you?’
‘Seven,’ she lied.
‘Begod! Did you wear the poor feller out?’
She hid a smile but at least the ploy had worked. At the end of the dance he led her back to the table. She had no wish to pick up any man. She had enough problems already.
‘I thought you were getting along famously with your man over there,’ Maura said curiously. ‘What did you say to him that made him take fright?’
‘I told him I had seven children and no husband.’
Rita pealed with laughter. ‘Holy God! Mary, aren’t you a gas!’
‘I remembered a woman telling me that there’s not many men who would take on a woman with a gang of kids and anyway, apart from not wanting to get mixed up with men, I’m not free to do so.’
Rita nodded. She supposed Mary was taking the sensible attitude.
‘Ah, well, it’s only a bit of fun anyway.’ She laughed again. ‘Now, Maura, have you enough drink taken to give us a song?’
‘Try and shut her up! You know what she’s like after a few glasses of porter!’ Sarah Jane replied, rolling her eyes expressively.
When they finally left the Oyster Bar it was late and as the fresh air hit her Mary swayed. ‘Oh, Rita, I think I’ve had one glass of port too many!’
‘Mary McGann, I believe you’re drunk!’ Rita cried, a little unsteady herself.
‘You’ll have a head the size of a bull in the morning!’ Maura giggled.
‘Oh, I hope not! I’ve got to take Tommy back to the hospital,’ Mary groaned. Her head was beginning to spin and she clung to Rita’s arm. Why had she been so stupid as to drink so much when she wasn’t used to it?
She barely remembered the journey home. Once safely in the door, with much shushing and stifled giggling, Rita helped her to undress and lie down on the mattress, which made her feel even worse. The whole room began to revolve sickeningly when she closed her eyes.
She struggled to sit up, afraid to lie flat in case the awful nausea swamped her again. Rita had gone to bed and Molly was snoring gently. The three children were curled up sound asleep. Oh, God! Maybe a cup of water would help, she thought, trying to get to her feet.
‘Mary, what ails you?’
Davy’s voice seemed to come from far away but she realised that he was helping her to get up. She must have wakened him.
‘I . . . I don’t feel very well. I think I had too much port wine.’
‘And you not used to the drink. Come on, a bit of fresh air will do you good.’
He had his arm around her waist and she leaned heavily against him as he led her towards the door.
‘Davy, wait! I . . . I can’t go out into the street like this, in my nightdress!’
‘Here, put this old shawl of Molly’s on.’ He dragged the garment from its hook and put it around her shoulders. ‘It looks better on you than it does on her.’
Mary began to feel uneasy. Bad as she felt she didn’t want to be alone with him in the dark and empty hallway. ‘Davy, I think that just a drink of water will help,’ she protested feebly. She had never felt so ill in her entire life.
‘Later, after the fresh air. Believe me, I know about these things.’
His grip had tightened and she began to feel afraid. Yet if she cried out, made a fuss, she would wake them all and how would it look? She had no desire to upset either her aunt or Rita, they had both been so good to her.
Once in the hall she tried to draw away from him. ‘Davy, I’m fine!’
‘Sure, you’re far from that, Mary.’ He pushed a strand of hair from her face. ‘But even though you’re jarred you’re a good-looking woman. I thought that from the first time I set eyes on you.’
‘Please, Davy! You know I’m married!’
‘And isn’t he an eejit to have let you go? If you were my wife I wouldn’t be so stupid. You must miss him - well, miss being in bed with him. Do you miss it, Mary?’
She could feel his breath on her face and she tried to draw back. ‘No! No, I . . . I don’t miss him, not in
that
way!’ she cried.
that
way!’ she cried.
‘Ah, don’t be codding me! You’re a young, healthy woman with only three kids, there’s plenty of life in you yet. And with a
proper
man . . .’
proper
man . . .’
She pushed him away. ‘Stop it! I’ve never done anything to encourage you! Think about Rita and your children. I could
never
hurt Rita!’ She prayed he wouldn’t do anything that would make her have to fight him. She hadn’t the strength; she felt too ill.
never
hurt Rita!’ She prayed he wouldn’t do anything that would make her have to fight him. She hadn’t the strength; she felt too ill.
To her great relief he turned abruptly away. ‘Do you know what you are, Mary McGann? You’re a prick-teaser! Ever since you came here you’ve been flaunting yourself. Don’t think I haven’t noticed it even if that auld one in there hasn’t!’
‘I’ve done no such thing! How can you say such . . . such crude and unjust things about me?’ she cried, her cheeks burning at his vulgar insinuations.
‘Go to hell! I hope you’re as sick as a pig in the morning! Just you stay away from me in the future!’ he snarled and stormed back inside.
Mary clutched the broken banister rail for support. She felt terrible. She had sensed only that he didn’t like her, but all the time he had been watching her, waiting for an opportunity . . . Now, she realised, she had made an enemy. She dragged herself back into the room and poured herself a mug of water from the big enamel jug on the top of the dresser. At least he’d get his wish, she felt as ‘sick as a pig’ already.
She awoke next morning with her head pounding and her mouth dry and foul-tasting. She raised herself on one elbow and groaned.
‘I can see ye all had a good time!’ Molly held out a mug.
‘Oh, I’m never going to touch port wine ever again. What is it?’ she moaned.
‘A “hair of the dog”. Drink it down in one gulp and ye’ll be as right as rain!’
Mary took the mug but baulked at the smell of the whiskey. ‘Oh, Aunt Molly, I . . . I can’t face it! I can’t face
anything
!’
anything
!’
‘Get it down you, girl, it’s the only thing!’ Molly urged.
Taking a deep breath Mary drained the mug and then began to cough and splutter.
‘Mam, are you sick?’ Katie asked worriedly.
‘She’ll be grand in a few minutes. Now, off with ye and Noreen to Kennedy’s bake shop and don’t let them palm ye off with the catskin! I’ll have no cinders from the oven in the crust of
my
bread! And no trick-acting on the way back or ye’ll have the bread destroyed altogether.’
my
bread! And no trick-acting on the way back or ye’ll have the bread destroyed altogether.’
Mary lay down again while Molly chattered on nineteen to the dozen about the amount of work there was to be done that day, which was the busiest of the entire week.
She closed her eyes and remembered what had happened with Davy. She was certain she had never given him any encouragement. Oh, if only she hadn’t drunk so much, she would have been safely in bed and asleep before he’d even come in. He’d been drinking too, she’d smelled it on his breath. What should she do now? She couldn’t go back to Liverpool, that was certain. And she had nowhere else to go. Nowhere. She was surrounded by family yet she had never felt more alone. Wearily she acknowledged she would just have to stay here and try to keep out of his way.
Chapter Ten
M
OLLY’S ‘CURE’ HAD WORKED but Mary continued to worry about her situation all day. A couple of the other women had covered for her at work so she could take Tommy to the Mater hospital. While she sat waiting for him to be checked over, she had been utterly preoccupied, and it was no better later as she helped Molly and Rita with the chores: her mind had not been fully on the tasks, which had prompted her aunt to ask, ‘Mary, what ails ye?’
OLLY’S ‘CURE’ HAD WORKED but Mary continued to worry about her situation all day. A couple of the other women had covered for her at work so she could take Tommy to the Mater hospital. While she sat waiting for him to be checked over, she had been utterly preoccupied, and it was no better later as she helped Molly and Rita with the chores: her mind had not been fully on the tasks, which had prompted her aunt to ask, ‘Mary, what ails ye?’
‘Nothing. Oh, I suppose it’s thinking about all the work we’ve to do,’ she’d replied.
That evening Rita and Davy went out and she was thankful. Davy hadn’t spoken a word to her all day but she’d caught the venomous looks he’d shot at her and had prayed that the other women hadn’t noticed. It made her feel very uncomfortable.
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