Rose of Tralee (37 page)

With a muffled groan, Mona heaved the bedding up over her shoulder and began to think about Tommy, to imagine that he was suddenly rich, that he had come into a fortune which some old geezer had left him for . . . for stoppin’ the bleedin’ tram right outside his door an’ savin’ him a long walk. It was a good day-dream, for Mona had recognised in Tommy something – she could not for the life of her have said what – which spoke to something in herself. And very soon it was no longer a day-dream. Mona slept.

Sean watched the sudden change in his son’s attitude to Rose – and Mona – and was delighted. He could see that it would make life much easier for Colm whilst he himself was enjoying his Christmas in Dublin, but it was not only that. Anyone with half an eye, Sean had been telling himself for weeks, could see Colm was always making calf’s eyes at Mona. She was very like that Nell MacThomas who had made such mischief at Switzer’s and had actually been responsible for getting Colm the sack. Why he should gravitate to another blonde good-time girl Sean could not understand, for his son was bright enough in other ways. He had good friends at work, all of whom Sean liked, and over the months that they had toiled on the tunnel together he had grown to trust Colm as a fellow worker who pulled his weight, could be relied upon, and was polite and tactful to those in command. It was, Sean thought now as he made his way to the tram stop, just the female sex who seemed to put his son in a flat spin.

But a few days ago he had begun to realise that Colm had changed. He no longer talked about Mona as though she were a mixture between a saint and a film star. And what was perhaps better, he did not speak of Rose as though she were anything but a pretty, sensible young thing. But his eyes gave him away. They softened when they fell on Rose, into a completely different look from that which Colm had been wont to give Mona. When he had regarded Mona there had been hunger, apprehension . . . but never a hint of the sort of glow which filled Colm’s eyes now when Rose came into the room. You could see he liked Rose, respected her and regarded her as someone very special. But you could also see that he wanted to be with her; he had taught her to ride the
bicycle and that, Sean thought now as he made his way towards the tram stop, had just been the start of it. Since then they had been to the cinema together, and spent a couple of happy evenings shopping for Christmas extras in Paddy’s market and also – the opposite end of the scale – in Lewis’s.

Sure an’ I’ll have so much to tell me darlin’ Eileen when I get home that I’ll not stop talkin’ for the fortnight, Sean thought contentedly, climbing onto the tram and giving the conductor his money. She worries about her boy – it’s only natural – but now I’ll be able to reassure her. She’s said, over and over, that a dacint girleen would be the makin’ of him and though I know very well she had an Irish rose in mind, she’ll like the English rose when she meets her. Indeed, he intended to give such a glowing report of their landlady’s daughter that Eileen would fall for her at once, and long for nothing more than that Colm and she should find their happiness together.

He had felt desperately sorry for the lad as they had realised that Colm would not be able to go home to Ireland when his father did. They had plotted how he might come home just for Christmas Day itself, taking the ferry back on Boxing Day, but had decided it was too expensive – and too unsettling – for the bare day. And now he could see that Colm was very well content and would not want to go back to Dublin even had the foreman changed his mind and told him to buy his ticket and stay until his father returned. He wanted to be with Rose, and Sean knew that both Ryders would see that his son had a good time and did not spend the day moping.

It’s a weight off me mind, Sean told himself, beginning to stand up and make his way to the exit, for his stop was approaching. Now I’ll be able to go
home without feeling mean and selfish, because I’ll know that Colm’s where he wants to be and is having a great time. Why, they might come to a proper understanding over the holiday, which would be best for everyone. It wasn’t that he thought Colm would suddenly begin to turn to Mona again, but he would be happier when young Rose and his Colm had actually committed themselves. At the moment they tried to pretend that they were seeing more of each other because they were both at a loose end, but Sean knew it wasn’t that. Oh, Mona seemed to be out most evenings and had disappeared for the whole day the previous Sunday and Tommy, who Sean considered was just the sort to lead a girl up the garden path and leave her in the lurch, had also been off somewhere most of the time. But Colm would have gone out with Rose regardless, Sean was sure of it, only he realised it was all new to them and they wanted it to be their secret for a little longer, until they felt sure enough to admit a certain fondness.

The tram stopped and Sean swung himself off the platform and set off towards William Brown Street. He and Colm were on different shifts now, though usually they went to work together. But because most of the Irish would be taking the full two weeks off, Colm had been put on a late shift, so Sean was by himself this morning.

As he turned down into the mighty beginnings of the tunnel, with the huge machinery clattering and men shouting, Sean thought happily: not long now and I’ll be out of it. Back with my darlings, handing out the presents Colm and me’s took so long in choosing ... and then it’ll be big fires and good food, and a bed warmed by the prettiest woman in Dublin . . . and herself in my arms, soft and tender and
giving, the way she’s always been.

‘Why’s youse got that soppy look on yer fizz?’ someone shouted and a huge navvy, even taller than Sean himself, grabbed his shoulders and twirled him round. ‘T’inkin’ about your woman, Paddy? An’ what you’ll be doin’ a week today?’

Sean felt his cheeks grow hot and ducked under the other man’s guard to give him a sharp poke in the stomach. ‘It’s all very well for you, Scouser. Wit’ your bed warm each night an’ your own woman to cook your vittles, you’ve got not’in’ to dream about!’

The large man guffawed and pretended to clutch the stomach, hard as iron, which Sean had just punched. ‘Don’t you go knockin’ me about, Paddy, or youse won’t be home for Christmas after all, ’cos if I’m off work, who’s to keep the others at it, hey?’

‘They’d probably manage well enough wit’out either of us,’ Sean said. He and the big man did the same job though on different shifts. ‘Anythin’ to report, have ye?’

‘There’s been a blockage in one of the drainage headings, but there’s men clearin’ it now. You’ll not need to worry about it. What’s it like above?’

Once you got down into the main tunnel, the weather above was a matter of guesswork until someone came down to start his own shift. Grinning, Sean said, ‘It’s rainin’ ink, feller,’ and then, when the big man growled warningly, added: ‘Well, it’s what I’d be callin’ brass monkey weather if I was as foul-mouthed as the rest of ye! I’d call it bleedin’ chill, though. I’m wonderin’ if we’ll be havin’ a white Christmas?’

‘Nah! Never ‘appens,’ the big man said. ‘Right, now you’re here I’m off. See you tomorrer. Don’t do nothin’ I wouldn’t do.’

*

‘Rosie! Come here a tick, queen.’

Rose had been about to leave the kitchen for her bedroom, where she meant to wrap parcels, but at her mother’s words she stopped in full flight, with the reel of string, the coloured paper and a quantity of ribbon in her arms. ‘What is it, Mam? Only I want to get these things wrapped up and out of the way tonight, if I can. It’s just lucky that Mona’s out, an’ Colm, an’ Tommy, too, so I can get on quietly for once.’

‘I won’t keep you long, chuck,’ Lily Ryder said. She had been making pastry and cutting it into rounds, but now she put her cutter down and signed deeply. ‘The fact is, Rosie, I wanted a word wi’ you whilst there weren’t no one else around, so seeing as the place is quiet, for once, it seemed a good opportunity. Where’s Mr O’Neill, d’you know? Mr Dawlish won’t be back in port for another two or three days so he’s not likely to come walkin’ in on us.’ As Lily had guessed, Pete Dawlish’s decision to come ashore and do an office job had not lasted. He had missed the sea terribly and as soon as the opportunity presented itself once more he had signed on and gone back to his ship.

‘Mr O’Neill’s gone to the shops wi’ Colm,’ Rose said a little impatiently. ‘I wanted to go too, but I got to get these things wrapped. Fire away, Mam, do.’

‘Well, I will, though I wish . . . Rosie, did you take some money from my dressing-table yesterday?’

‘Money? No, ‘course not. How much?’ Rose said without undue concern. Just lately, her mother had been awfully absent-minded and indeed careless about money. She had put eighteen and sixpence in the old teapot on the mantel in the kitchen and when she went to get it, it had gone. There had been a bit of a hullabaloo, until Mrs Kibble had come in from the
front room and said it was neatly piled up on the window-sill. Then there was the milk money, which her mother had stood ready by the back door, or thought she had. Only it wasn’t there when she wanted it, and so she’d had to borrow off Rose and really scrat around to pay her back. The trouble was, the back door had been open for most of the day, since she and Mrs Kibble had been going in and out with armfuls of linen. It was a fine day and they had decided to wash and – hopefully – dry the loose covers from the front room, hence the open door, so anyone could have picked up the money and walked off with it.

Whatever had happened to it, it had not been found in some spot where her mother might absently have laid it, and certainly Mrs Ryder trusted her boarders absolutely . . . but the money had gone somewhere, there was no doubt about it.

‘Are you sure, queen? You know I wouldn’t mind if you had – it would be a relief, honest to God. You see, it were on the dressing-table when I come back from Paddy’s market, yet this mornin’, when I went to put it back in me purse, it weren’t there.’

‘Oh, Mam . . . are you
sure
you put it there? Remember the teapot money that time. As for takin’ it meself, of course I didn’t, an’ if I had, wouldn’t I have told you? It’s not as if you’re ever mean wi’ me, or take too much off me, like some mams do.’

‘Thank you, queen,’ Lily Ryder said, turning from the sink and crossing the kitchen to give her daughter a hug. ‘No, but you’ve got to ask everyone ... Agueda says she’s gettin’ suspicious that there’s a thief hereabouts.’

‘A
thief?
You don’t mean one of the boarders, do you, Mam?’

‘Gracious no, I’m sure they’re all decent fellers,’ Lily said hurriedly. ‘And yesterday afternoon the window-cleaner came an’ when Agueda checked, the window weren’t properly latched. But . . . well, I’ve known old Shifty Smith twenty year, an’ I can’t believe he’d thieve from me.’

‘No-o, but what about them lads who help him?’ Rose put in. ‘Suppose one of ’em saw the money an’ slid his arm through the window? Could he have reached it from outside?’

‘I dunno. Depends whether I stood it on the left or the right an’ to tell you the truth, Rosie, I just can’t somehow ‘member exactly where I put it. Only this time I’m certain sure it were there... and it ain’t now! So you see ...’

‘Was it much money?’ Rose asked practically. ‘Or just some loose change, like?’

‘It were quite a bit . . . almost two quid,’ Lily said, sounding guilty. ‘Agueda scolded an’ said I were careless, which I suppose is true, but I never thought I’d have to be careful in me own house, Rosie. I like all me boarders, I can’t believe any of ’em would tek money, but . . . well, there’s no gettin’ away from it, it’s gone, honest to God it has. An’ I’ve been a lot more careful since the milk money went missin’, so I know it
were
there, even though it was gone this mornin’.’

‘I’d put money on the window-cleaner’s lad,’ Rose said, remembering the number of different young boys who had come scrambling up the ladder to give the panes a final rub with a dry chamois leather. ‘He’s always gettin’ new ones, how can he say whether they’re trustable or not? He never knows ’em long enough.’

‘I suppose it’s the likeliest answer,’ Lily admitted.
‘The trouble is, I’ve never been careful where I put things down, an’ we’ve never been short by so much as a penny... not when your dad was alive, that was.’

‘No, but then we didn’t tek boarders so there wasn’t so much comin’ an’ goin’,’ Rose pointed out. ‘What’s more, you an’ Dad cleaned our windows, didn’t you? An’ tradesmen didn’t call like they does here. And . . . well, you didn’t have money to leave about careless-like, did you. Because you were the only one who paid folk an’ you kept your cash in your purse. Now, when you’re busy, Mrs Kibble or meself or Mona will pay at the door, so you leave the money where it’s easy seen. Oh Mam, don’t worry yourself over it, but latch the windows in future when Mr Smith comes callin’.’

‘I expect you’re right,’ Lily said. She began to fit her rounds of pastry into a bun-tin which she had standing by. ‘Anyway, chuck, you go off an’ wrap your parcels and I’ll get on wi’ me mince pies. I’m doin’ some extra so’s Mr O’Neill can tek ’em home wi’ him when he goes.’

‘How about two each for after our tea?’ Rose asked hopefully. The lovely warm smell of baking was making her hungry already. ‘How about a couple for me to tek up to me room, come to that?’

Her mother laughed, but shook her head. ‘No, you’d only go gettin’ grease marks all over that nice paper. Well, I’ll give you one when you come down agin, ’cos you’ve relieved me mind. I wouldn’t like to think that old Shifty had took advantage o’ me an’ that’s a fact.’

Glad that she had put at least some of her mother’s fears to rest, Rose hurried upstairs. She had agonised over whether to buy a present for Colm, not because he might not have bought anything for her – that
would be fair enough – but because getting a gift from her might have embarrassed him. She’d already got a nice tortoiseshell comb for Mrs Kibble to put in her iron-grey hair, a tablet of scented soap and some talcum powder for Mona and a brooch for her mother. She was especially pleased with the brooch, which she had saved up for ever since she had seen it in Paddy’s market, and was sure that her mother would love the tiny white enamelled lilies of the valley nestling amidst their green-enamelled leaves.