Foreign Affairs (15 page)

‘It’s about bloomin’ time,’ Brenda snapped. ‘You’re always the same.’

‘Would you get lost, you didn’t have to wait. Beth and I can go by ourselves.’

‘Mammy said you were to come with Kathy and me. You’re only a
child
.’

‘I am not,’ Jennifer exploded. ‘I’m nearly nine.’

‘And I’m a teenager,’ her sister said with disdain.

‘Not yet, you’re not,’ Jennifer fumed. ‘Not for two months.’

‘Oh shut up and come on,’ Brenda said impatiently.

‘Bossy boots.’ Jennifer scowled.

‘For heaven’s sake the two of you, would you stop fighting!’ Kit appeared at the top of the stairs. ‘A fine pair to be going on a procession. Heavens above,
wouldn’t you think you’d make an effort to get on. I wish I had a sister to share my trials and tribulations with and God knows I’ve enough trials and tribulations with you
two.’ She glared at them. ‘Don’t make a holy show of me arguing on the street, I’m warning you. Now off you go and behave yourselves. I’ll be keeping an eye on you so
be told.’

In sullen silence the two girls walked out the front door and headed for Kathy and Beth’s house. Jennifer was raging. Brenda had gone and got her into trouble with her mother for nothing
and she’d wanted to ask her if she could stay with her cousin Pamela for the night. If there was one thing Jennifer really enjoyed it was sleeping over at her cousin’s. Pamela’s
house was a bit posh. She had her own room and Susie, her other cousin, had hers. Pamela had a record player in her room and a collection of Beatles records. Jennifer adored the Beatles but her
absolute favourite was Elvis. Pamela let her play
Wooden Heart
as many times as she liked when she stayed over. Pamela also had a collection of make-up filiched from her mother’s
dressing-table. Used lipsticks and foundation and eyeshadows. They had the greatest fun experimenting in the privacy of Pamela’s room.

Then, of course, there were the suppers. Jennifer never had supper at home. Once tea was over, that was it in the Myles household. But Auntie Ellen and Uncle John always had supper and so did
Susie and Pamela. Pamela was allowed to make her own. She always had cocoa with loads of sugar in it. And cream crackers and cheese. Or cheese on toast, which was Jennifer’s favourite. After
which they’d have biscuits. And not just plain Marietta or Arrowroot either. After an evening playing ‘Office’ Jennifer was more than ready for a hearty supper.

‘Office’ was a game of her own invention and they had such fun playing it. They had two cases of ‘documents’ collected from all kinds of places. The local supermarkets
were excellent sources. She and Pamela would collect as many promotional and competition leaflets as they could. They had loads of invoices from Findlaters, who delivered Kit’s weekly
groceries, and Pamela’s father brought home great stuff from work. They would spend hours filing and refiling and ticking off with red biro. They pretended to talk to customers using two
imitation phones that Pamela owned. It kept them entertained for hours and they felt so grown-up, wearing lipstick and smoking sweet ‘cigarettes’ for added effect.

Pamela was allowed to read until late. Jennifer and Brenda had to have their lights out by nine o’clock. Pamela had a
huge
collection of Enid Blyton books. The mystery books were
brilliant. How Jennifer longed to be part of a gang like
The Secret Seven
or
The Famous Five
. What mysteries she would solve. She and Pamela were sure that Miriam Kelly’s
father was in a sinister conspiracy of some sort. He looked a bit like a spy. He was always going abroad and Miriam mentioned once that he regularly had meetings with men who spoke foreign
languages.

Pamela, Beth and Jennifer had followed him one day. Trailed him, just like Fatty and Co in the
Five Find-Outers
. It had been a bit of a disappointment as he’d just gone down to
Dignan’s and bought himself a plug of tobacco. They’d watched intently as he’d handed over his money, just in case he was passing a secret message. They hadn’t caught him,
but they knew he was up to no good and they would stay on his trail until they caught him in the act, they vowed.

Well sinister Mr Kelly could be meeting a Russian spy tonight and she wouldn’t be able to do anything about it, because she’d be stuck at home thanks to Miss Brenda, Jennifer thought
glumly as they reached their friends’ house. Brenda, ignoring her with haughty disdain, knocked on the front door and turned her back on her. There were times, Jennifer thought angrily, that
she almost hated her sister. Brenda would have a face on her now for ages and life would be most uncomfortable. Especially in the bedroom. If she even dared to put anything on Brenda’s half
of the dressing-table by mistake, there’d be war. If Brenda caught her reading her
Bunty
she’d be thumped. And she had a brand-new one that she’d only got yesterday and
Jennifer was dying to read
The Four Marys
.

‘Sorry for delaying you. I suppose you’re not going to talk to me now,’ she ventured, as usual being the first one to hold out the olive branch. A contemptuous silence greeted
Jennifer’s overture. ‘Well I think you’re very mean,’ she burst out as Beth opened the door.

‘What’s wrong with Brenda?’ her friend enquired as they walked behind their respective older sisters
en route
to the procession.

‘Oh she’s in a huff as usual,’ Jennifer sighed.

‘What’s new?’ Beth retorted. ‘I know Kathy’s moody but Brenda’s ten times worse. When she’s having a row with you, she ignores me, as if I did anything
on her,’ she added plaintively.

‘Don’t mind her.’ Jennifer snorted. ‘Wait until you see the two of them showing off just because they’re prefects.’

‘They just think they’re it. Thank God they’re going to secondary school after the holidays. At least they’ll be out of our hair.’ Beth scowled.

A big crowd had gathered at the starting point of the procession. The army and police were there to escort the priests carrying the monstrance under the big canopy. The St John’s ambulance
brigade, the Order of Malta, the girl guides and boy scouts in their uniforms all stood to attention waiting to move off. A priest gave instructions about the route from a car with a loudspeaker.
And in front of all of this were the flower girls, ready to strew their petals on the ground in honour of Christ.

Jennifer felt a tingle of excitement. She could see the road ahead lined on each side with people who were not walking in the procession. Many of the houses displayed colourful bunting flying
decoratively in the breeze. Some had little altars in their windows with a picture or statue of the Sacred Heart surrounded by fresh flowers.

‘Get into your place quickly,’ Brenda ordered officiously. She had a little notebook in her hand and was ticking off the names of the arrivals.

‘Show-off,’ muttered Jennifer as she stepped into line. One of the teachers arrived and issued them with their instructions. They were to follow the teachers at the front, who would
be following the car with the loudspeaker. The prefects would walk at the end of each line. There was to be no talking or laughing of any sort. They were to throw their petals on the ground in
front of them and try and make them last until they got to St Pappin’s Church. The entire Holy Communion class were first, followed by the representatives of second, third, fourth, fifth and
sixth classes. Turning around, Jennifer could see the famous Cora Delahunty behind her, dressed all in white with a veil so long it was almost tripping her up.

‘Look at Cora Delahunty,’ she whispered to Beth. ‘Does she think she’s getting married or what?’ It was ridiculous. Only the Holy Communion girls wore white dresses
with their veils. Beth and Jennifer were both wearing their Sunday best topped off by their Holy Communion veils but of course Cora, being Cora, had to go the whole hog. Jennifer and Beth were
fascinated by Cora, having heard great tales about her from Brenda and Kathy. She was definitely the most glamorous person in the school.

‘What are you gawking at?’ the most glamorous person in the school drawled.

‘Nothing much, it hasn’t got a label on it,’ Jennifer retorted, annoyed with herself for having been caught staring.

‘You’re Brenda Myles’s sister, aren’t you? She’s dead common too,’ Cora sneered.

‘It takes one to know one,’ Jennifer riposted, turning her back on the vision in white.

‘Sarky cow. She thinks she’s somebody, doesn’t she? You gave her her answer.’ Beth grinned. The next minute the pair of them nearly jumped out of their skins as the voice
in the car with the loudspeaker boomed out the first line of the hymn
Sweet Sacrament Divine
. The procession began to move off down Ballymun Avenue and the voices of the people as they
joined in the hymn could be heard in homes a mile away.

Slowly, rhythmically, the girls began strewing their petals on the ground as they walked proudly at the head of the procession. After the first hymn, there was a decade of the Rosary. Jennifer
much preferred the hymns, she decided as she sprinkled a handful of rose petals on the ground. They were beautiful petals. Soft, scented petals of every hue and colour. She and Beth had gone to all
their neighbours asking for contributions to the petal basket. They’d gone down to the Rose Garden in the Botanic Gardens and asked the gardener if they could have any petals on the ground.
They’d told him what it was for and he’d been more than agreeable. They’d got loads of petals. Her dad had taken them for a spin in the country and they’d gathered lovely
scented apple blossom petals as well. Their teacher was very pleased with their hard work and had commended them in front of the whole class.

After two hymns and three decades of the Rosary they left the houses and were on the winding road up to St Pappin’s. It was a while since she’d been along this road. Jennifer
reflected, as she heard a cow lowing in one of the fields. None of them went to St Pappin’s School any more. They no longer had to get the Lea’s Cross bus to the little country school.
A brand-new school had been built for them at the end of Ballymun Avenue, called Our Lady of Victories. It had big bright classrooms with huge blackboards. And Venetian blinds on the windows. It
was Jennifer’s job to open the blinds in the morning and she relished it. She loved twirling the little baton around to open and close them. At midday when the sun streamed right in on top of
them, it was her job to close them. It was Beth’s job to clean the blackboard. They no longer sat at wooden desks, they had tables. Jennifer missed the wooden desks with their little inkwells
in the middle and the groove that ran along the top for them to put their pens in. They didn’t use pens with nibs on them any more either. She’d always liked dipping her pen into the
inkwell and making large neat letters in her copy with the red and blue lines when they had been learning how to write. Now they just had ordinary copies.

Walking along the country road brought back memories. Her favourite time had been picking blackberries in the autumn or having snow fights in the winter when the snow was crisp and deep on the
roads and footpaths. Now it only took her ten minutes to get to school. She didn’t have to get a bus any more and couldn’t save a ha’penny on her bus fare by racing to the stop at
the end of Ballymun Avenue, instead of the stop up by the shops.

A hysterical screech jerked her out of her daydream. She turned to look in the direction of the commotion. Cora, lepping around like a mad woman, was being chased by a bee. Of course, in an
effort to outdo everybody else, she had, at the start of the procession, sprinkled her basket of petals (a basket twice as large as everybody else’s) with lavender water perfume. Now she was
paying the price for the sickly sweet scent.

‘Get it away from me! Get it away from me!’ she squealed, barging through the girls in front in an effort to shake off her pursuer.

‘Be quiet! Be quiet, you silly girl,’ one of the teachers thundered, grabbing the yelling Cora by the arm.

‘I’m being attacked by a swarm of bees,’ Cora bawled. This was a slight exaggeration. Another bee had indeed joined his comrade, attracted by the heavenly scent of lavender,
but a swarm was a bit of an overstatement.

‘I’ve been stung,’ she yelled as a bee landed on her arm. She tore herself from the teacher’s grasp and made another run for it.

This naturally caused consternation in the ranks and white-veiled girls hopped and screeched with abandon, much to the fury of their teachers.

‘Stop that nonsense this minute, Cora Delahunty, and the rest of you. Making a disgrace of the school. Have some reverence,’ commanded the teacher. Cora was oblivious to her. In her
blind panic, she tripped over her veil and sprawled in their midst, her petals scattering to the four winds.

Sobbing dramatically, she was led from the procession, her white dress covered in dust. Snorting and sniggering, the rest of them regrouped and began to walk again, to the great relief of the
holders of the canopy, who at this stage were almost on top of the leading group. They were having a hard job keeping straight faces. Jennifer caught Beth’s eye and, in spite of themselves,
they burst into giggles. Their teacher cast them a look that would have intimidated the Pope and Brenda hissed, ‘Shut up, you two.’ It was with considerable difficulty that they
composed themselves. Every so often they’d remember Cora’s spectacular retirement from the procession and they’d start tittering again.

‘Making a show of us, Mammy, she was,’ complained Brenda to her mother later that evening. ‘The teacher told her to stop laughing three times. I was mortified.’

‘I couldn’t help it, Brenda. Every time I thought about it, it was funny. And you’re just an old tattle-tale anyway,’ she burst out, hurt by her sister’s
disloyalty.

‘Stop that, Jennifer,’ her mother ordered. ‘You shouldn’t have been tittering and giggling when you were leading the procession. It’s just as well I didn’t
see you or you’d have got a right telling-off from me.’

‘It’s not fair, Mammy. I wasn’t laughing on purpose and she’s always telling on me and I never tell on her!’ Jennifer was outraged at her mother’s rebuke.