Foreign Affairs (7 page)

‘Hi Rachel, are you going for the bus? We could do our maths homework together.’ She turned to find Mary Foley walking along beside her.

‘Hi,’ she echoed grumpily. Mary Foley was not exactly her favourite person. Mary and she had played together in primary school and had started secondary at the same time and ended up
sitting together in the same class. Rachel had been delighted to see a familiar face. Mary and she had great discussions on the bus going to and from school about their exciting new world. It was
so different from the schoolhouse in Rathbarry. Gradually Mary made friends with other girls in the class and soon dropped Rachel like a hot potato. At the beginning of their next term she sat
beside Susan Shannon and left Rachel to sit alone.

Mary’s rejection cut Rachel to the quick and erased the faint sense of self-confidence that she had begun to develop in her new school. Mary, longing to be part of the gang, often giggled
at Glenda’s smart remarks about her former friend. Many nights in the privacy of her bedroom Rachel cried her eyes out because of them. When Mary was on her own and wanted company on the bus
she was perfectly friendly with Rachel, but in class or if she was with the others, she ignored her.

Well today, Rachel decided, Mary Foley could just go take a running jump. If she thought she was going to pick Rachel’s brains for her geometry she could think again. There and then,
Rachel decided she was not going home on the first bus. She would wait until the later one and go and look at Valentine cards and treat herself to
Jackie
, a cup of tea and a cream
slice.

‘No, I’m not going home, Mary. See you,’ she said coolly, quickening her pace and leaving her erstwhile friend with her mouth open looking after her.

Shook you, Mary Foley! Rachel thought with satisfaction, feeling marginally better. She hadn’t acted like a doormat. She decided to buy a Valentine card for Harry. She would disguise her
writing very thoroughly and maybe she just might buy a Valentine card and send it to herself and bring it in to school and wave it around triumphantly.

She spent a happy hour browsing through cards and bought the most romantic one she could find for Harry. She chickened out of buying the one for herself. It would be much too obvious. Everyone
would know that she had been reduced to that pathetic deception. Next year, she comforted herself as she ate her cream slice and sipped her tea, next year she wouldn’t have to undergo this
ordeal. She would be finished school, she’d be a free woman. And maybe, just maybe, with St Jude’s help, she’d have a boyfriend. Preferably, if he could really see his way to
answering her prayers . . . Harry.

Chapter Five

‘Honest to God, wouldn’t you think you’d have more sense at your age, and your sixth at that!’ Helen Larkin scolded her sister Maura as she divested
herself of her fur coat and plonked a bag of fruit and a bottle of Lucozade on the dressing-table.

‘It’s nice to see you too,’ Maura murmured drily, pulling herself up into a sitting position and wincing at the dart of pain that ran through her. Helen pulled up the comfy but
shabby old rocking-chair and cast an affectionate glance at her older sister.

‘Well it
is
nice to see you, you know that! It’s just you’d think you’d have had enough of this carry-on by now.’ She waved a hand in the direction of the
Moses basket at the other side of the bed.

‘Well it was a bit of a shock, but sure she’s here now and we’re delighted to have her, God love the angel.’ Maura was not a bit fazed by her sister’s outburst.
She’d been expecting it. It had been the same the last time she got pregnant two years ago.

‘Do you not take any precautions?’ Helen said in exasperation.

‘We were practising the safe period.’ Maura couldn’t keep her face straight. She was a terrible giggler, a habit that had stayed with her since childhood, and the sight of her
sister’s face was enough to start her off. ‘And anyway,’ she chortled, ‘we had great fun for the whole nine months. I was as randy as hell and Pete thought he’d died
and gone to heaven.’

‘Oh for heaven’s sake, Maura! You haven’t an ounce of wit.’ Helen started to chuckle herself. Maura was one of the happiest people she knew. Happy and earthy. She and
Pete had a very good marriage.

She was happy with Anthony, Helen mused as she gently started to rock in the old chair that had belonged to their mother. Anthony was a kind and considerate husband. But they just didn’t
have the
fun
that Maura and Pete had. Maybe if they’d had children of their own it would be different. The old familiar heart-scald seared her chest. Here was Maura with six and she
wasn’t able to have one of her own. God could be so cruel. There were so many people in the world who didn’t deserve children. People who beat them, starved them, and committed
unspeakable atrocities against them. And here was she who would give up her fine house in Dublin, her furs, her jewels, just to hold a child of her own in her arms. The doctors had told her they
could find no reason for her infertility. She’d even gone to a specialist in London. He had told her to go home and stop worrying about it – it would happen eventually. Time passed and
still the arrival of her monthly period was a day of frustration, bitterness and sadness. It was a great grief in her life and though she loved her sister dearly, Helen had cried her eyes out when
she’d heard of the latest pregnancy.

‘You’re very good to come down.’ Maura interrupted her musings. Helen’s face softened.

‘Of course I’d come down, haven’t I come down for them all?’ she retorted.

‘I know you have, Helen, and I know it’s terribly hard for you.’ Maura squeezed her sister’s hand tightly. A lump the size of a golf ball lodged in Helen’s
throat.

‘Do you know how lucky you are, Maura? God, I wish you lived near me in Dublin so I could see the children. St Margaret’s Bay is in the back of beyonds.’

‘Don’t say that about your birthplace,’ Maura chided gently.

‘Well it is!’ Helen declared with a sniff. ‘All those nosy old biddy-bodies. I was glad to get out of the place.’

‘Oh you’ve gone very grand since you’ve gone to the big smoke, at least the people here will pass the time of day with you. Mind,’ Maura gave one of her giggles, ‘I
don’t know if Lancy Delaney will ever speak to me again. I drowned him with me waters at Mass yesterday.’

‘You’re not serious, Maura!’ Helen’s face was a study. ‘Lancy Delaney, did he ever get married? God, he was the bane of my life. He must be fifty-five if he’s
a day. Do you remember he told Ma he had twenty acres and a bull and I’d never be sorry if I married him, and he old enough to be my father.’ The two sisters erupted into guffaws.

‘You broke his heart all right.’ Maura wiped the tears from her eyes. ‘He always asks after you. That’s why he was sitting beside me at Mass.’

‘Oh God Almighty, I’ll be looking over my shoulder the whole time I’m down here.’ Helen groaned. ‘In the name of God what were you doing at Mass and you so near
your time?’

‘Sure didn’t she come two weeks early. I wasn’t expecting it to happen for at least a fortnight,’ Maura protested.

‘How did you drown Lancy?’ Helen grinned. Maura threw her eyes up to heaven. ‘Oh wasn’t I running late trying to get the five of them ready and I didn’t want to
traipse up to the top of the church. And anyway Thomas is always tormenting me to go up on the gallery. They all are. We were the same when we were kids.’

‘Don’t I remember,’ Helen agreed. ‘It was such a treat to go up on the gallery. Everything seemed much more interesting and I always loved clattering down the wooden
stairs to Communion.’

‘And you could clatter better than anyone,’ Maura said.

‘I always liked to cause a stir,’ Helen laughed. ‘Anyway get back to the story.’ Maura shifted more comfortably in the bed.

‘Well I was coming down the stairs behind Lancy after Mass and the waters just went with a whoosh. It was a bit like a tidal wave actually.’ She started laughing. ‘Poor Lancy
got the brunt of it in his socks and shoes and you know, I think he thinks I wet myself. I nearly did, I laughed so much. It was so funny, Helen. You should have seen the face of the poor old
eejit.’ Tears of mirth were streaming down Maura’s face and Helen laughed with her.

‘Maura Matthews, but you are incorrigible and there’s no doubt about it.’

‘I was lucky I didn’t have her there and then. I was only in labour an hour and a half. That’s the best ever,’ her sister declared proudly.

‘I hope it’s the last time ever,’ Helen said firmly. ‘That safe period is a dead loss at your age.’

‘I suppose you’re right.’ Maura yawned. Dusk had fallen and the rhythmic beam from the lighthouse illuminated the small bedroom. A log in the fireplace collapsed into a heap of
ash scattering sparks up the chimney and the coals glowed deep orange. A whimper from the Moses basket caused two pairs of eyes to turn in that direction. ‘Aren’t you going to have a
look at her?’ Maura urged softly.

Helen gave a deep sigh, she had been delaying this moment for as long as she could. Slowly she walked over to the old well-worn but spotless basket. Peeping in she saw a pair of tiny hands
waving impatiently. Gently she leaned in and picked up the tiny bundle. The old familiar ache ripped through her. She held the child close and felt it nuzzle at her face. ‘She’s
beautiful, Maura, she’s so tiny.’

‘She’s small all right, she was only five pounds. She’s going to be petite, like Mam. I know you’re Louise’s godmother, and say no if you want, but I’d really
love if you’d be godmother to this one too.’

Helen stared down at the tiny little being in her arms, her heart bursting with love for her already.

‘I’d love to, Maura, what are you going to call her?’ Maura smiled contentedly.

‘We’re going to call her Paula.’

Chapter Six

Paula Matthews was so excited she had knots in her stomach. Anxiously she peered out of the sitting-room window into the gloom. Her eyes scanned the darkening sky where the
first stars were beginning to twinkle. No sign of anything yet. She knew that soon Santa would be leaving the North Pole and he had to cross Greenland and Iceland before getting to Scotland,
England and then Ireland. Her daddy had told her that. Paula studied the skies carefully. Santa’s fairies were still about, checking that there were no little children being bold.

‘Hello my darling, what are you doing?’ Auntie Helen lifted her out of the window-seat and sat down on it herself and gave Paula a great big cuddle. She had arrived from Dublin laden
down with parcels. Of course she oohed and aahed when she saw Paula and exclaimed how big she’d got and how golden her curls were. She told a proud Maura that Paula was a beautiful child. It
just confirmed everything that Paula knew about herself. She was perfectly happy to spend the rest of the afternoon admiring her golden curls and telling herself how beautiful she was.

Paula loved her Auntie Helen. She loved the scent of perfume that always seemed to waft from her. She loved the softness of the clothes she wore. She loved the jangly charm bracelet and the
glittering earrings that adorned her aunt’s wrist and ears. Most of all Paula loved the way her aunt always made a huge fuss of her. If there was one thing that Paula enjoyed it was being the
centre of attention.

She was the pet of the family, her older brothers and sisters took good care of her and always let her win at games. She had five brothers and sisters. The twins, Thomas and Louise, were the
eldest. They were eleven. Then there was Rebecca, who was nine and a bit bossy, Joseph, who was eight, and John, who was seven. Paula had been five on her last birthday and had started school that
September. She felt very grown-up setting off to school each day with John. John was her best friend. They had the greatest adventures together. Searching for buried treasure on the beach. Picking
periwinkles on the rocks. Catching crabs and chasing each other with the claws. John was as excited as she was about Santa’s impending arrival. He had asked for a rescue helicopter and a
surprise and Paula could hear him anxiously asking their mother, ‘Do you think he’ll remember it’s me that asked for the helicopter an’ not Joseph or Thomas?’

‘Stop worrying, John,’ Paula heard her mother say. ‘You’ve sent so many letters up that chimney he couldn’t possibly make a mistake.’ They had all had their
baths and the youngest ones were getting their hair washed in a big basin in front of the fire in the kitchen. It would be her turn soon. Paula hated getting her hair washed. It always got tangled
and she would screech when her mother brushed the tangles out for her.

‘Are you excited?’ Auntie Helen asked as they gazed out at the lighthouse in the middle of the sea. The wide golden beam lit up the steel-grey waters and darkening sky every sixty
seconds. Surely if Paula kept looking at it she might see Santa and his sleigh. She gave a little shiver of anticipation.

‘I wish it was Christmas Eve every night. I really hope I get my nurse’s set. I wonder what surprise will I get?’ Paula felt a wave of impatience. She wished she could just
shut her eyes and open them and it would be Christmas morning.

‘I bet your surprise will be lovely,’ her aunt assured her, ‘and wait until you see what I have for you under the tree.’

‘Tell me! Tell me! Pleeezze, Auntie Helen, Please please please.’ Paula felt like bursting with exhilaration.

‘Then it wouldn’t be a surprise,’ Auntie Helen laughed. ‘Come on, I’ll ask Maura if I can wash your hair while she’s drying John’s.’ They walked
hand in hand into the snug aroma-filled kitchen. On the big table opposite the fire lay the huge turkey all plucked and cleaned and ready to be stuffed. Beside it lay a big platter of chopped
onions, herbs and parsley, mashed potatoes and sausage meat. A big bowl of breadcrumbs waited to be mixed into the stuffing.

They had all sat around the big table earlier rubbing chunks of bread together and crumbling them into the smallest crumbs. Only Louise, the eldest, was allowed to use the grater. It was her job
to grate the crusts when the rest of them had finished crumbling. Paula longed with all her might to be allowed to use the grater. It was an important job. It wasn’t fair that Louise was the
only one allowed to do it.