Dragonholder (11 page)

Afterwards, she was contrite, “I'm sorry, it's just that he
annoyed
me so!”

Geoff could be very annoying at the time. He occasionally “got my goat,” but where he excelled was in tormenting his little sister, Babs. Barbara Hilton was Gigi's age and in Gigi's class so they became good friends. Many weekends both of them would come over.

That worked out very well — with a few exceptions. The most memorable was at
Thanksgiving Dinner. Thanksgiving is a purely American tradition but one that Anne would
never abandon. Anne's cornbread stuffing is the best in the universe — in my
completely unbiased opinion, of course. She also made an excellent chestnut dressing, a
great turkey gravy, magnificent mashed potatoes — I'm getting hungry just remembering
the smells in Meadowbrook's small dining room that night.

It was marvelous and after a long silence while the meal was eaten, everyone sat back, contented.

The moment was broken by a sniping exchange between Geoff and Babs. Whereupon Anne, attempting to recover the good mood, said, “But Geoff, we all know that the English only insult those they really love.”

Geoff mulled this over for less than a second before turning to his sister, with a vicious twinkle in his eyes, and said, “Barbara, dear, have I told you how marvelous you look?”

 

W
hile the sniping between Geoff and Babs was rare and got better with time, Anne was alarmed when she noticed that her mother had started snapping at the children and complaining all the time. Anne became convinced that it was just too hard to have three generations living in the same household and suggested that her mother consider taking an apartment.

Shortly Anne and her mother were in a vicious argument that ended with them not speaking to
each other. After several days of tense silence in the house, Bami came to Anne one day and
said, “I'm sorry I've been so mean. It's just that the children are too loud, everyone's too
loud, and I've got this damned ringing in my ears.”

It did not take long for Anne to realize that her stoic mother was in severe distress with a loud ringing in her ears: tinnitus. Bami's irritability only increased when we moved into our next house. Money had grown very tight, so we were forced to compromise and considered ourselves lucky to rent what we did — a semi-detached house in Dun Laoghaire on Rochestown Avenue, easy cycling distance from our school.

The road was a well-traveled one, complete with buses. There was no ancient wall to muffle the road noise. Very soon Bami could not stand it. The series of arguments erupted once more. One day Bami announced that she had found herself an apartment in Blackrock and no one could talk her out of moving. No one did. Within the week both Anne and Bami were thrilled with the new arrangement.

Bami's apartment was within walking distance of our school, and while Gigi and I visited her often, she was more often entertaining her chess foe, Geoff Hilton. Years later Geoff would tell me how much he enjoyed his times with Bami and how jealous he was of me for my grandmother — but I think I am more envious of him for his friendship with her.

Bami had sailed the seven seas on tramp steamers after the Kernel had died — just for
the pure fun of it all. She'd loved Japan when they'd been stationed there just after the
war, she'd survived the depression, she had a sharp wit, acid tongue and was … cool,
formidable, a caution. She was never far from a shot of Scotch, although she never drank
excessively. In her travels she'd grown to love collecting ivory and sterling silver, and
her apartment was adorned with beautiful oddments. She was a lady who had lived her life
completely, had enjoyed it, and still enjoyed it.

 

1973
was a lean year, both for writing and for income. Anne had to take bank overdrafts between books to keep the family going. In Ireland it was rare for a woman to be a single parent and sole provider for her family. Fortunately Wright was still sending his child care payments, and, more fortunately, Betty and Ian Ballantine kept
Dragonflight
,
Dragonquest
and all of Anne's other Ballantine books in print. The two dragon books had earned out their advance, so every new copy sold made money for Anne.

Anne still had to deliver on the Dell romance contract. Working with the old dictum, “write
what you know”, she started a book about the abuses against women that were rampant in
Ireland and wrapped a strong, compelling story around it. The working title was
A
Kilternan Legacy
and it dealt with an American divorce and two children trying to
find their way in Ireland. The concept smacked of autobiography; the book was anything
but.

Anne also started a series of connected novelettes for Roger Elwood who had arranged a
four-book series called Continuum. For Continuum 1, Anne wrote “Prelude to a Crystal Song”
and continued on with “Killashandra - Crystal Singer,” “Milekey Mountain,” and “Killashandra
- Coda and Finale.” When the series was completed, Anne would pull the four pieces together
into one complete novel —
Crystal Singer
. In
Crystal Singer
, Anne
was also writing from experience — using her singing experience and disappointment as
the basis for the story.

The big problem was Ed. Anne had to find a place to stable Ed and a way to pay for it. She wanted a stable nearby. The solution was Brennanstown Riding School, then located in nearby Cabinteely. The owner of the school was Jane Kennedy, a lean, spirited rider whose horse abilities were far greater than her people abilities. Jane attracted a few loyal supporters and many young helpers. At first Anne put Ed in on half livery — she paid half the cost of his keep, and he was ridden by pupils for the other half — but when she discovered that Jane needed help scheduling, running the accounts, and manning the phone, they came to an arrangement that lasted over six years.

Soon enough, on Saturdays Anne — the award-winning science-fiction writer — would settle in at the office in Brennanstown to answer phones, make sure that students and teachers were assigned to horses, and manage the accounts. In some ways the juggling act was reminiscent of the times when Anne had been a stage director for the Breck's Mills Cronies.

Gigi, who was thoroughly horse-mad by then, would accompany her and gleefully muck out stables, feed and groom horses, clean tack, or cart hay for the pure joy of being in the proximity of a horse — and have the occasional free lesson. She was not alone in this and made friends with the other helpers. At that time there were Cliona, Eoiffa, Brenda, and Derval.

Poor Derval was always given a hard time whenever she went into the hayloft because of an unfortunate incident years back. She had been abstractedly piling out the hay near the entrance and, moving back to admire her handiwork, had stepped into the thin air behind the ladder. The ensuing fall broke her nose, and both arms.

Derval took the “slagging” over this with the same cheerful good nature she showed at all
times. Tall, a bit gawky, with an aquiline nose, full lips, curly hair, and an infectious
smile, Derval was a character.

When, in 1974, Brennanstown had to find new stables, Jane Kennedy relocated the school to Kilmacanoque, just outside Bray — about ten miles further away. To get the horses there, she enlisted all her helpers to hack the long distance. Gigi still remembers the marvelous time she had riding Ed and leading a string of ponies.

 

A
t the end of the school year, in the summer of 1973, when the lease came up on the Rochestown house, Anne was lucky to find a house close by available for a long lease. It was number 79 Shanganagh Vale in Cabinteely. The house was at the back of the estate. It was a low bungalow, with three bedrooms, one bathroom, a long dining/living room and a kitchen nearly as long. It was a lovely house and we all enjoyed its comfort for the next three years.

1974 was a tumultuous year for Anne — a roller-coaster year with more down than up. In the spring Wright was laid off by DuPont. He informed her that as he had no income, he would no longer be able to pay child support. And in April, her elder brother's wife died after a long lingering bout with cancer.

On the up side, the New England Science Fiction Association, NESFA, asked her to be their guest of honor at their 1975 Easter convention, Boskone. A Guest of Honor had her airfare and hotel room paid for the convention. Anne gladly accepted. The invitation was made sweeter because NESFA had a tradition that the Guest of Honor would have a small press book published by NESFA Press and sold at the convention — and would she be willing to write a Dragon story for them? The up-front fee was a welcome incentive. Anne was delighted. She arranged a signing tour with her publisher to start after the convention.

On the down side, I graduated from high school that year and wanted to go back to the States for college. I was accepted at Lehigh University — with a partial scholarship. Betty Ballantine graciously signed as surety on the tuition. Still money was tight and I had to earn his own pocket money.

Alec was working in a garment cleaning factory in Massachusetts and wrangled me a summer job. Gigi went to France for the summer on a foreign exchange program. Anne was alone for the first time in many years.

One of the few things that Anne always tried to have enough money for was a housecleaner to come in once a week. Anne did the cooking and the laundry, but the general cleaning she left to the housecleaner. The cleaning woman in Ireland was a sweet lady named Kathleen. When Bami had set up her apartment, she asked Kathleen to come and clean for her, too.

Anne was alone in the house when Kathleen called her from Bami's. Kathleen had found Bami on the floor, unconscious. With quick thinking, she remembered Bami's affinity to drink and splashed a little bit of whiskey under her nose. Either the smell or the feel did the trick: Bami took a deep breath and continued breathing until the medics arrived.

The prognosis was not good — paralysis on the left side. Crippled, in a home, at best.

“She wouldn't have liked that,” Anne recalls with tears in her eyes. “She always wanted to be active, to do things by herself. To have her just stuck in a shell … it wouldn't have been fair.”

Those were bitter days, working at Brennanstown Stable in the day, travelling to the hospital to sit with an unconscious mother, and afraid of what the future would be for them both. After ten days with no change, Anne's mother had a second stroke on July 12 and passed away, never regaining consciousness.

Bami had requested that she be cremated. Cremations were not done in Ireland at the time. The coffin was shipped to Birmingham, England for cremation but Anne had no way to get herself there. Bereaved, newly orphaned, Anne was at a loss for what to do. Her Brennanstown friends helped her out. One of them, Simon Healy, was a pilot. Simon managed to get the loan of a plane, and flew Anne and Gigi over there just for the cost of the fuel. Simon's kindness, sympathy, and dedication made a very difficult journey as pleasant as possible.

It saddened Anne that her mother, who had befriended so many people in her long life, had only a daughter and a granddaughter at her funeral. For a long while Bami had spoken of having her ashes scattered in beautiful Galway Bay. While Anne plotted how to honor this request, Kathleen recounted how Bami had spoken often of resting in the family plot in Boston, next to her husband. So when the urn was brought to her later that month, Anne tucked it in the back of family's Welsh dresser, next to her father's Doctoral thesis, to wait until her tour of the States the next spring.

 

G
igi had not been feeling well since her return from France. Initially both she and Anne put it down to the stress of the moment. But when Gigi was still suffering after Bami's funeral, they sought medical advice.

Anne was again lucky in her connection with Brennanstown. Gigi's friends, Anne and Orla Callaghan, recommended their doctor, Hilary Webb. She quickly figured out that Gigi was suffering from more than normal stomach upsets and sent her on to the top gastroenterologist in Ireland, Dr. James Fennell.

The news was bad — Gigi had Crohn's Disease. To get to the diagnosis of Crohn's Disease both acute appendicitis and abdominal obstruction must be ruled out — which means that the symptoms are worse than both of these. Additional symptoms include severe colic, constipation, vomiting, malnutrition, chronic debility, and abdominal fistulas and abscesses often causing fever and generalized wasting. The worst of these symptoms were not yet manifest — all Gigi knew was that her stomach was upset all the time. This on top of everything else was a horrid blow for Anne.

Just when she most desperately needed it, Harry Harrison — who had first mentioned Ireland to her — recommended Anne to write a trilogy of children's books dealing with dinosaurs for the UK publisher, Futura. Anthony Cheetham, the publisher, agreed. The advance was very welcome — but Harry's kindness was never forgotten.

In the midst of all this, Anne had to write the story for NESFA Press. Finally she wondered — in the throes of a terrible bout of bronchitis — how she would ever find a
time when
she could write it. With that thought came the title,
A Time When
, and with the title Anne found the story.

 

T
here was one major hitch to Anne's attendance at Boskone and the subsequent signing tour: Gigi. The signing tour would last far beyond Gigi's Easter vacation, and Anne could afford neither the additional airfare nor the lodging. Fortunately, Anne found an excellent solution — again at Brennanstown.

Many of Brennanstown's riders were students teaching and studying for their British Horse
Society Assistant Instructorship, known to everyone as the AI. It was the principle
credential required to work with horses. Anne discovered that one of the students,
Antoinette O'Connell, was in need of lodgings. Antoinette, “Anto” for short, got on famously
with the reduced family. She soon moved in, taking my room, and providing Gigi with a “big
sister.”

That problem solved, Anne put the finishing touches on her trip, corrected the galleys for
A Time When
, packed her mother's ashes in my old fake elephant-hide camera bag, and left for Boston. As she was packing to go, Gigi asked if she could carry anything. Anne handed her the camera bag.

“What's in it?” Gigi asked.

“Mother,” Anne replied simply. Gigi let out an ‘eek' and nearly dropped it.

Going through Customs at Boston, the officer opened the camera bag and asked, “What's this?”

“Mother,” Anne said again. When he looked puzzled, she added, “Her remains.”

He dropped that bag faster than Gigi had. “Lady, I don't know if you can do that!”

“Oh, yes, I can, and here's the documentation.” And she passed over all the papers necessary for the importation of my mother's ashes. The supervisor had to be called, but at last the papers were found to be in order and Anne was allowed into the U.S. with her mother.

Because of all the Customs fooforah, Anne was nearly the last person out. I was the first one to see her. She was hauling a lot of stuff, so I said, “Is there anything I can carry?” I was surprised when she handed me my old camera bag.

I looked at it curiously, “What's in this?”

“Mother,” she said again. I clutched that bag tight in my arms. I'm sure that Bami would have
loved the whole thing.

The next day, cool and foggy, we drove to the cemetery with Anne's Aunt Edna, her cousin Joe Gibney, myself and Alec. In a short ceremony, Bami was laid to rest next to her husband, G.H. McCaffrey. On the way back, Edna said, “Now G.H. takes on the white man's burden once more.”

 

B
oskone was a wonderful tonic for Anne.
A Time When
sold well and she won the E. E. “Doc” Smith award. The signing tour was a success.

Better yet, the Ballantine's years of patiently keeping their authors on the shelves had begun to pay off handsomely for Anne — the March royalty check was regal — $4500. Anne was overjoyed — she could afford to have the telephone turned back on.

But the best was yet to come. Beth Blish had started helping her mother, Virginia, in the agenting business. She met with Jean Karl, the editor at Atheneum, and heard a brilliant request – was there any chance of Anne writing a story for young women in a different part of Pern? Jean felt that more female readers would be wooed to science fiction if they could identify with the characters.

When the question came to Anne back in Ireland, she pulled out what she had tried to write for Roger Elwood, about a young woman named Menolly. At the time, back in Meadowbrook House, the words would not come — Anne had no one like Menolly from which to draw on. Now, with the young Brennanstown riders constantly in sight, and often at dinner, Anne found inspiration — in the ebullient Derval Diamond, Kim Baker — who had taught her donkey to jump, and all the other students and riders.

Now the story of Menolly wanted to be written. Anne found that
Dragonsong
came to her quickly — with a house full of youngsters every evening, she had no lack of inspiring characters. For the character of Menolly, which Anne had never been able to see, she found one in particular — Derval Diamond.

Anne signed the contract in 1975 and
Dragonsong
was published in 1976. Even before it was published, Jean Karl wrote to ask Anne for a sequel — at the same time that Anne wrote Jean Karl asking if she could! They quickly agreed, the book would be
Dragonsinger
.

 

O
nce again, as things were looking up in her writing, things were falling down at home. The house they had been renting started showing worrying cracks along the main wall that ran the length of the house. Anne informed the owners, who called in an architect. The architect was amazed to discover that the center wall rested on
nothing!
There were no supports, no flooring, nothing. The weight of the center wall was beginning to pull the house down. Worse, the house had been built upon fill, which was subsiding, so that the house was beginning to slip downhill while also breaking in the middle.

Even if she had wanted to, Anne could not stay in 79 Shanganagh Vale. She had been happy in the house and hated the thought of starting another round of annual moves. She counted up her earnings and was surprised to find that she could afford a down payment on a house.

To get a house, Anne needed a loan. She approached her bank manager with a copy of the letter
from Atheneum, stating the advance monies for the paperback sale, half of which were hers.
She remembers watching the bank manager reading the letter when she heard,
“A woman
shouldn't be allowed to have this much money.”

The bank manager's lips hadn't moved. Anne realized that the exchange had to have been telepathic. She thanked him for his time, took back her letter, and changed banks. She got her mortgage from the Irish Permanent Building Society.

She found her house twenty-six miles outside of Dublin, in the southern county of Wicklow, just about nine miles south of the new Brennanstown Riding School. The house had been built by the next door neighbors. The Beirnes had built the house for their mother but she decided that even with all that was going on up in Belfast, she just couldn't leave her friends. The bungalow was separated from theirs by a tall wall. It was a four-bedroom bungalow with an L-shaped living/dining room and a cozy kitchen. It stood on a full third of an acre. It was love at first sight.

Anne named it
Dragonhold
, because her dragons had bought it for her.