Promised Land (16 page)

Dismounting from the bicycle she propped it against the wall, trying to get up her courage to knock or call at the back door. Walking around the perimeter of her home she felt as if she were an intruder.

‘Ella! Is that you?’

Carmel was coming from the old outhouse behind, a baby dangling on her hips. She ran forward to greet her sister-in-law, all trace of awkwardness forgotten.

‘Oh Carmel, she’s beautiful, just beautiful.’

The baby stared at her, brown-eyed, her wispy hair much darker than her mother’s.

‘Mary, this is your Aunt Ella, say hello to her!’

The baby girl promptly turned her head away, hiding.

Ella couldn’t believe how well Carmel looked, clear-skinned and with bright, almost sparkling eyes. Her figure was a little fuller than before, and her fair hair had grown down past her shoulders.

‘You look wonderful, Carmel, motherhood suits you.’

‘And you look stylish and sophisticated, Ella. Oh, I’m so pleased to see you. I hoped and hoped that you’d come down home and when you didn’t reply to my letters I was so worried even though I knew you were sharing the flat with your cousin and Nance told me about your job.’

‘I’m sorry Carmel, I should have written. It was just that so much had happened and I was so upset that …’

‘It’s all right, Ella.’

The baby lost her shyness and grabbed hold of Ella’s finger, so Ella took the opportunity to stroke her beautiful soft skin. Falling into step the two of them walked across the yard, Carmel opening the back door and shooing a cat out of the way. It was only as she went inside that Ella thought about the dog. Monty must be somewhere out around the farm with her brother, for he’d never tolerate a cat taking his spot in the house.

‘How’s the dog?’

Carmel glanced up at her quickly. ‘I’m sorry Ella, but the dog died last January. He was old and I suppose he must have missed your father. He was dead in his basket when I came down in the morning.’

Ella swallowed hard; so many changes.

The kitchen looked neat and tidy and was painted a soft creamy colour. The wooden presses were bleached and clean, the delftware on the dresser bright in the sunlight. A scatter of new cushions covered the old chairs near the fireside where they sat down.

‘The place looks lovely Carmel, honest it does.’

‘I did it all before the baby. I got some kind of notion about things, poor Liam didn’t know what was up with me at all. I’m glad you like it.’

Carmel didn’t offer to show her the rest of the house and she didn’t ask.

She held the baby while her sister-in-law made a pot of tea. Mary, her little niece, pulled at her hair and played with the buttons on the front of her dress as she told Carmel about their flat in town and her job in Lennon’s. Her brother was lucky to have found himself such a wife, kind and capable and able to help him around the farm.

‘If someone had told me two years ago that I’d be out milking cows and sweeping up dung, Ella, I’d have thought they were crackers. Still and all I wouldn’t change it.’ Carmel’s face suddenly blushed when she realized what she was saying. ‘I’m sorry Ella, I didn’t think.’

Ella rubbed her cheek against the baby’s, trying to hide her feelings at seeing another female take over the role she had always assumed would be hers. No matter how much she admired the English woman, it still hurt.

The baby went down for a nap, her skin rosy with sleep; Carmel and she felt content just to sit around and chat.

‘You’ll stay for tea, Ella! Liam will be back soon and he’ll be pleased to see you.’

Ella wasn’t so sure. What would she say or do when she saw her brother?

* * *

Half an hour later Liam Kennedy arrived in. He had washed his hands at the sink and left his boots on the step before he noticed his sister.

‘What are you doing here? Who invited you anyway?’

Ella could feel a deep feeling of anger flicker inside her. ‘I came to see Carmel and the baby. I’m down staying with Aunt Nance and Kitty.’

‘Well, you’ve seen them now, haven’t you!’

Carmel ran towards him, imploring. ‘Liam stop, please stop! There’s been enough of bad feeling. For God’s sake, Ella’s your sister.’

Ella stood up. Her brother hadn’t changed, not one bit. He’d got the farm. He’d got the land. He had it all and yet he was still that mean, angry young man who had fought with his father and refused to forgive him.

‘I’m sorry, Carmel, but I’d better get back.’ Ella stood up, excusing herself. She wasn’t going to stay where she wasn’t wanted. ‘I’m sure Aunt Nance is expecting me.’

‘No, Ella! Stay! Please stay! He doesn’t mean it!’ Carmel begged, grabbing hold of her arm.

The unfortunate thing was that Ella knew he meant every word of it.

‘Liam, say you’re sorry! Say you’re sorry!’ pleaded Carmel.

Liam got up and dragged his boots back on, calling, ‘I’ll not come back in till that bitch sister of
mine
is gone. This is my farm and tell her I want her off my property.’

Tears welled in her sister-in-law’s eyes and from upstairs Ella could hear the baby start crying. She wasn’t going to cry herself. Standing up she had a good look around the kitchen; likely she would never again see the place where her mother had cooked dinner and baked bread and read her stories from
The Children’s Sunshine Annual
.

‘I’m sorry, Carmel. I shouldn’t have come. I just wanted to see you and the baby, and to see home again.’

Embarrassed, they hugged each other, then Carmel rushed upstairs to lift baby Mary as Ella slipped away.

She was so upset and shaky that she had to wheel the bicycle the whole way back to Rathmullen, not trusting herself to ride the distance.

Dublin 1956

Chapter Nineteen

ON NEW YEAR’S
Eve 1956 Ella Kennedy found herself joining a huge crowd up at Christ Church Cathedral, in the old part of Dublin city, to hear the bells ring. All along the Liffey and out at sea ships sounded their horns to welcome another year, the crowd joining hands and singing ‘Auld Lang Syne’. She tried not to think of those who were missing from her life but to concentrate on those friends around her now.

‘Here’s to another year!’ toasted Gretta, kissing her latest boyfriend Brendan.

Terri and a crowd from the hairdressers were all hugging and kissing each other as if there were no tomorrow. Louis and Con and Dessie, the boys from the flat below, had come over to join them, fighting over who should be the first to give her a New Year’s kiss.

Kitty was still down in Rathmullen, where Ella had spent two days of Christmas with her cousins. She’d managed to avoid bumping into her brother
but
had been thrilled to see Carmel pregnant again and little Mary when they called to see her cousin Connie.

Ita Ganley had promoted her to ladies’ fashions that autumn, explaining to Mr Harry ‘that she had a way with the country shoppers’. She was no longer nicknamed Junior, and was earning a higher rate of sales commision than before. Kitty was on suits, while she was at the opposite end of the floor selling coats and jackets. It was heavy enough carrying them up and down from the stock room, before even attempting to persuade a customer to try one on. She was fortunate that there had been early frosts and people were determined not to get caught out, buying the heavy wool and tweed coats that stocked the rails. There was no man in her life and she was content about that because she did not feel ready to get involved with somebody else just for the sake of having a boyfriend. There had been dates but nothing of importance or relevance, no-one to get close enough to hurt her. She sighed to herself, thinking of the new year ahead, hoping that it would bring change and fresh opportunities.

That spring she found her opportunity.

She’d always noticed the shop in Dawson Street with its tweeds and knitwear and collection of handmade clothes. It was slightly old-fashioned but was in an excellent location. The notice advertising for a manageress had only recently appeared
in
the window. Curious and interested, she decided to enquire about the position. The owner stood behind the counter, a middle-aged man with high colouring and white hair who was wearing one of the knitted waistcoats that she had spotted in the window.

‘Can I help you?’

‘Yes, you can. I want to ask about the job of manageress that you’re advertising.’

He was obviously surprised by her age, but otherwise told her the kind of person he was looking for.

‘I’d like to apply for it,’ Ella said, deciding.

There and then Leo O’Byrne had interviewed her, asking her all about her work in Lennon’s, her experience of the different departments, the stock room, and delivery rooms.

‘This is a much smaller business, Miss Kennedy,’ he told her. ‘And to be honest it’s not really a ladies’ high fashion house.’

‘I can see that, Mr O’Byrne, but what you have is of a very high quality. These tweeds are as good as if not better than Lennon’s and your traditional knitted cardigans and sweaters are beautiful.’

Looking around, she could see the shop was stocked with an enormous array of handmade Irish goods. A lot of items were cluttered together behind counters and needed to be separated out and put on display in order to entice the customer.

‘I’m afraid that the best salary offer I could make would barely match your present one,
though
naturally there would be commission on top of that. Also in a small shop like this there are extra responsibilities, things you take for granted in a big store.’

‘Such as?’

‘Such as opening up in the morning and sweeping the dirt from the front step and racing to get to the bank to make lodgements and locking up in the evenings. And there’s no security or porters to help, it all just comes down to you! I need someone who is capable of taking charge if I’m away or busy at the theatre. I still do a bit of acting, you know.’

She smiled. She should have guessed that.

‘Listen, why don’t you have a think about it, and call round tomorrow at lunchtime.’

She didn’t need to think about it. Jobs were few and far between, she knew that, but likely she wouldn’t get the chance to work in a shop like Leo O’Byrne’s again.

‘I’ll take the job Mr O’Byrne,’ she said. ‘But I have to give two weeks’ notice at Lennon’s.’

The news of her leaving Lennon’s took everybody by surprise.

‘Are you sure you’re wise, Ella, leaving a large business like Lennon’s for a much smaller shop?’ Ita Ganley asked, concerned. ‘Here you would have opportunities. Mr Harry and Mr Sylvester are good employers and you know in time you could well have ended up a department manageress or a buyer.’

‘I know, but I think this is the right move for me, Miss Ganley. Honest I do.’

‘Ella, do you realize how hard it is to find steady employment with a secure pension nowadays? Just look at all the girls and women having to emigrate to England to get work! Don’t be too rash with your decision. You know, I’m quite prepared to tear up this resignation letter and it will go no further.’

Ella shook her head. She couldn’t explain to the fifty-year-old manageress that she and her like were the very reason she was leaving. She didn’t want to end up like them, standing behind the same counter day in day out, selling the same things, life passing her by.

Kitty thought she was mad. ‘He’s giving you less of a salary and you’re leaving! You’re totally cracked Ella, honest to God you are!’

‘It’s a good business Mr O’Byrne has and I’ll be doing all sorts of things, Kitty. I’ll only be a few minutes away from where you’re working so we can still walk back and forth together.’

She finished in Lennon’s on the last Friday of April, the staff banding together to give her a gift of a beautiful hand-embroidered blouse that she’d had her eye on for ages. Mr Harry came down and made a farewell speech, and when he’d shaken her hand said, ‘I hear you’re going to work for Leo O’Byrne. He has a good business there and no doubt you’ll learn the ropes from him. Remember
though
that you’re a Lennon’s girl and we’d always be happy to have you back!’

She started in the new job on Monday morning, Mr Leo as she was told to call him making her more than welcome. The first thing he got her to do each day was to plug in the kettle and make him a strong mug of black coffee. There was no canteen or tea trolley and they took turns running to Bewley’s and Fuller’s for their cake or scone for the morning break. There was only one other worker in the shop, a gorgeous-looking man called Neil Patterson who worked half days. He was some sort of a writer and had already published a book. He was charming and good-mannered, with a thick curling head of dark hair and a moustache, and Ella and he immediately hit it off.

From day one Mr Leo asked her advice about everything. How much did she think the knitted stoles were worth? What colours did she think the young ladies would prefer for a wrapover cardigan? Most of the time he ignored her advice and just made his own decisions but at least he involved her, and by the end of the week he had become just Leo. One part of the shelves on the wall contained large bales of hand-woven tweed and they measured out the yards the customer needed against the brass measure on the counter.

‘I’m making a good full suit, do you think that heather colour would suit me?’

The customers told her of their plans and busy
social
lives as she held the materials against their skin colour or matched it with a blouse or skirt. Ella had first off done her best to tidy the enormous stock and display it to better advantage, without any interference from Leo.

The shop itself was on a busy intersection with plenty of passers-by and close to the Hibernian Hotel and the Shelbourne. Leo O’Byrne had a flat upstairs, which was very handy as when the shop was quiet he could slip upstairs for a few minutes. He kept a book under the side counter in which he wrote down all the names of good customers and any of their idiosyncrasies.

‘My customers like to be remembered, Ella, so this little blue book ensures that I never forget somebody who has spent a lot of his or her hard-earned cash on these fine premises.’