One Hundred Names (32 page)

She sat before Daniel Meara, the captain of the ship, former principal-turned-businessman, who had opened up the college to teach part-time and night courses, making money on handing out diplomas and certificates for employment opportunities that no longer existed.

‘Katherine,’ he looked down at her résumé and back up at her with a smile. It was an awkward smile, one that immediately had Kitty questioning why on earth she had come at all. If she didn’t believe in herself, how on earth was she going to convince this man that she was good enough for the job? She braced herself.

‘I appreciate you coming in to us today. And here is the thing,’ he said, placing the palms of his hands down flat on the surface of the table. His fingers were sweaty and made a sticky sound each time he lifted them from the table, which he did to emphasise certain words. ‘You are a past student of ours, which we appreciate greatly, and so that’s why I told Triona to ask you in, so I could see you myself.’ He moved his fingers and they made that sticky noise. ‘And you have gone on to work in the field you studied, which we admire greatly and are most proud of.’ He cleared his throat. ‘However, under the current circumstances,
your
current circumstances …’ They were the only words Kitty needed to hear to understand where this was going, and the rest disappeared before it reached her head apart from the memorable: ‘The students are studying your case in Media Law and we feel this would be a conflict of interest and very uncomfortable for you.’

She would have preferred to have heard it over the phone. She had spent time getting dressed up, doing her make-up and hair, wearing shoes that cut off her circulation, and was now being smiled at patronisingly. At least with the phone she wouldn’t have had to cycle home with tears streaming down her face. The one thing she could be grateful for was Sally’s predicted torrential rain, which suddenly fell as she made her way through the miserable dark night.

Kitty couldn’t sleep the night before Birdie’s excursion. She couldn’t even close her eyes. She had pushed the humiliation of the job interview to the back of her mind, to be dealt with at another time on another day when she had the resources, and right now her mind was on the story, on the people and the trip. She felt nervous. Excited tingles rippled through her stomach, and then the all-too-familiar negative thoughts would immediately follow. What if she had made a mistake in throwing them all together? What if her entire plan of action regarding the angle she was taking was wrong? She felt an overwhelming duty to Constance, and also to Bob, to get it right. Her desire to please Pete no longer existed. He would have to employ some of Constance’s belief and spirit and trust that his writer knew what she was doing. The thing was that she
felt
that she knew what she was doing; she was back to following her instincts instead of reacting to somebody else’s. That outcome alone from this entire process was enough to celebrate. She had found the confidence to listen to herself again, she was simply worried that her instincts were wrong, that this trip would be a disaster.

As she lay in bed looking at the apartment bathed in blue moonlight she began to think about having to leave it. She had lived there alone for five years, and for four months with Glen. She loved her apartment, was so fond of the space and didn’t want to leave it. She had been lucky to find it, cheeky to threaten her landlord into giving it to her cheaper and now her dastardly ways had come back to haunt her. She was going to be out on her ear in less than a fortnight. Wide awake at the thought of her uncertain future, she threw off the bedcovers and immediately began packing, afraid about the impending trip and afraid to be moving on. By three thirty her clothes were all in suitcases; by 4 a.m. she was fast asleep dreaming of her adventure with six of the one hundred names.

The plan was for Kitty to collect Birdie from the nursing home in a taxi, where the battle-axe had been informed she would be taking Birdie away to stay overnight with her family. In the meantime, she saw the Oldtown Pistols return right on cue, victorious from their win against the Balbriggan Eagles. While on duty, Molly had arranged for the bus to be serviced, concocting a lie about hearing it make a funny noise and that a ‘Pistol’ had reported a funny smell and noise. This was taken seriously and the nurses had agreed to Molly’s arrangements of local man Billy Meaghar to take the bus for a check-up, with strict instructions that it be returned for the Pink Ladies’ bridge night the following evening. For an extra fifty euro Billy had agreed that Molly could take the bus and have it back on time for him to return it to the nursing home the following day.

So far so good.

Birdie and Kitty waited anxiously in the Oldtown café for Molly to arrive with the bus, both waiting for their plan to be overthrown by the battle-axe in the nursing home.

‘How are you feeling?’ Kitty asked Birdie.

‘About the bus?’

‘About the trip,’ Kitty smiled. ‘About going home.’

She sighed, long and hard, and Kitty couldn’t tell if it was contented or loaded with anxiety, or both.

‘I feel excited, but I feel nervous. I only went back there once, for my father’s funeral, and that was forty years ago. This trip has got me thinking. Funny, really, how the mere thought of going back has me disappearing into the memories …’ She trailed off as if getting caught in another web of thoughts of the past. ‘There are so many things I’m remembering that I had completely forgotten.’

‘Are you sure that it’s okay for me to bring others on this journey? I know it’s a very personal one for you.’

‘Kitty, I’m more than happy to meet these people,’ Birdie smiled. ‘It will be intriguing to see who else has been “listed” with me.’

‘Intriguing is one word for it,’ Kitty laughed nervously.

‘You’ve figured it out, haven’t you?’ Birdie asked. ‘The thing that links us all.’

‘Yes,’ Kitty replied, ‘I think I have.’ She respected Birdie for not asking.

‘That’s okay, I have a little secret of my own,’ Birdie chuckled, her eyes sparkling mischievously again. ‘Molly doesn’t know it yet but we have one extra stop to make along the way.’

That stop was Trinity College, Dublin where Birdie’s grandson, Edward, was studying for a law degree. Kitty remembered seeing him visit as she was leaving one time. He was a handsome man in his twenties, responsible and diligent, by the sounds of it, and a fine match for Molly in Birdie’s eyes, though they couldn’t be more like chalk and cheese in Kitty’s.

‘You little romantic,’ Kitty teased.

‘Molly will kill me, no doubt, but Edward needs a kick up the backside. He’s Caroline’s son,’ Birdie said, as if that explained it all. ‘His head is so far in those books, he wouldn’t see a good thing in front of him if it stripped naked and writhed in front of his eyes.’

‘I wouldn’t put that past Molly,’ Kitty said, and Birdie laughed heartily.

Suddenly there was a loud honk of a horn, which made them both jump in their seats, along with the other customers, and they looked out the café window to see Molly behind the wheel, two enthusiastic thumbs up.

‘That’s nice and subtle,’ Kitty mumbled as they made their way out to the bus.

‘I love doing that,’ Molly said happily, closing the doors again and savouring the feeling. She pulled a lever and the doors opened again and then she closed them.

‘Please stop playing with the bus,’ Kitty said nervously, looking around the town. ‘I don’t want to be arrested for theft until after we’ve completed the trip.’

Birdie and Kitty sat in the front row behind Molly, though Kitty had no intention of staying there very long if Molly’s driving skills on the motorbike were anything to go by.

‘There’s even a microphone,’ Molly said excitedly. ‘Next stop,’ she said into the mic, ‘the foothills of the Boggeragh Mountains.’

‘Actually, we also need to stop at Trinity College,’ Kitty interrupted her announcement.

‘I thought we were collecting your gang under the clock at Clerys and going straight to Cork,’ she frowned. ‘Oh, don’t tell me …’ She looked back at Birdie.

‘Keep your eye on the road, child!’ Birdie exclaimed. ‘I want to make it to my eighty-fifth birthday. He doesn’t know he’s coming yet, but he is.’

Molly rolled her eyes and they left Oldtown before anybody else could report seeing them.

They pulled in at Clerys department store on O’Connell Street, and numerous cars and buses behind them sounded their horns in protestation of Molly’s irrational driving.

‘Oh, shut up,’ Molly muttered, putting her hazard lights on. ‘Are they here, Kitty?’

Kitty’s stomach churned as she surveyed the pathway outside of Clerys and spotted them all, some standing in small groups and others alone. Her heart lifted when she saw Ambrose and Eugene standing together, Ambrose’s mop of wild red hair covering her face as she stood side on, looking at her feet, and Eugene lifting his face to the sun happily, no doubt doing his best to distract Ambrose into forgetting she was out in the big bad world surrounded by strangers, distanced from her precious butterflies.

Eva Wu was the first to notice Kitty standing at the open door of the bus. She looked at ‘St Margaret’s’ boldly emblazoned across the side of the bus and threw her a quizzical look. Despite the fact she had numerous gifts to give people at the wedding, she had only an overnight bag and one small carrier bag with her. Kitty guessed the presents would be arriving in another way.

‘Hi, Kitty,’ she said, greeting her with a hug at the door. When the others spotted Kitty they made a move towards the bus and lined up behind Eva. What really surprised Kitty was the sight of Steve, who deliberately waited around to join the end of the queue. She looked at him confused, then continued greeting her guests. ‘What’s with the nursing home sign?’ Eva giggled, stepping on to the bus.

‘All will be revealed,’ Kitty said. ‘Archie!’ she smiled and hugged him as he stepped up next. He stiffened at the personal display of affection.

‘Er, I brought someone, hope you don’t mind. Her name is Regina.’ Archie stepped aside to reveal the mousy woman from the café. ‘I told her about, you know, everything.’

Regina looked up at him with a shy smile and then back to Kitty nervously. She still had that slightly haunted look, afraid that something was going to happen, or wishing it would but afraid it wouldn’t.

‘You’re very welcome, Regina,’ Kitty smiled, shaking her hand, trying to hide her shock but failing miserably.

‘Thank you,’ Regina blushed, looking at Archie nervously.

‘Sit wherever you like.’ Kitty held her hand out and they made their way down the aisle, choosing to sit three rows back. Archie gave Regina the window seat.

Next were Eugene and Ambrose. Kitty gave Eugene a hug and kiss but knew better than to touch Ambrose. She also knew not to make a big deal of her presence. Eugene looked pleased as punch, dressed in his jumper, shirt and bow tie with butterfly images, and Ambrose barely looked Kitty in the eye as she climbed aboard and went straight down the back of the bus. At the very back was a row of five seats, which faced two small tables and two seats on opposite sides. Ambrose unsurprisingly avoided the more social seats and instead sat in the last row of two seats at the back.

Next were Mary-Rose and Sam.

‘Hope you don’t mind her bringing me,’ Sam said.

‘I didn’t expect her to come any other way,’ Kitty teased, noticing Mary-Rose blush, and embracing them both. They went straight to the back of the bus, Sam saying hello to everybody and introducing himself, and immediately the mood picked up.

Next were Jedrek and Achar, and to Kitty’s delight and to the passers-by on O’Connell Street’s amusement, they had brought their pedalo. It took Sam, Jedrek, Achar and Steve to carry it to the boot of the bus, where they managed to turn it sideways and slam the door.

‘What are you doing here?’ Kitty asked Steve as they followed the others onto the bus. ‘Where’s Katja?’

‘She couldn’t make it so I thought I’d be photographer for the next two days.’

‘Steve,’ Kitty said, panicking, ‘you should have told me she couldn’t make it. I need a real photographer for the magazine.’

‘Hold on, before you completely insult me, we both studied photojournalism, remember? I know what I’m doing.’

‘That was ten years ago and you were crap.’

‘I wasn’t crap, I was creative. There’s a difference.’

‘Well, at least get people’s heads in, will you?’

‘Jesus, thanks so much Steve for taking a day off work and offering to help, I really appreciate it,’ he said, insulted.

‘Sorry. Thank you,’ she said sincerely, sitting down. ‘But do not fuck this up.’

He sat beside her in the front row and surveyed the bus of eclectic people. ‘So this is all your hard work. Hey, Kitty, this is cool. I’m really glad you’re doing this.’

She couldn’t think of anything nasty to say at that so instead she smiled and thanked him, genuinely delighted he was here with her on this trip. It felt right.

‘Okay, be quick,’ Molly said a little nervously, looking in her rearview mirror as she pulled in on Nassau Street. ‘I can’t stay here long.’

‘What do you mean, be quick?’

‘You have to go and get Edward. I can’t leave the bus.’

‘Can’t you ring him?’ Kitty asked. ‘He doesn’t even know me.’

‘His phone is off,’ Birdie explained apologetically. ‘He’s studying in the Berkeley Library.’

Kitty and Steve ran from the bus and entered Trinity College through the side entrance. They made their way to the Berkeley Library and asked for Edward Fitzsimons.

‘He can’t be disturbed, he’s working on an assignment with a group and specifically asked not to be disturbed.’

Kitty sighed and stepped back. ‘Let’s go,’ she said to Steve. ‘We’ll have to tell Birdie he’s busy.’

‘What, and break that old woman’s heart? She’s going on an adventure of a lifetime – I’m excited and I don’t even know her – and if she was my grandmother I wouldn’t want to miss it.’

‘But you heard what she said.’

‘Come on,’ he looked at her. ‘Can’t hard-hitting reporter
Katherine
Logan come up with something clever to get him out here?’