The Bright One (56 page)

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Authors: Elvi Rhodes

BOOK: The Bright One
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‘It's my niece. Her name's Grace Paterson and she was widowed in the war. Only nineteen, she was. She's been working as a nanny for the last four years, but now the family is emigrating to Australia. She doesn't want to go with them.'
‘That sounds . . . promising,' Breda said.
‘She's a very nice person, and she adores babies,' Mrs Stevens said. ‘In fact, I took the liberty of inviting her here this afternoon. I thought you might like to meet her.'
Any reservations Breda had were swept aside almost from the moment she met Grace Paterson. She was everything she had imagined in the woman she had hoped to find: softly spoken, wholesome to look at, with her blonde hair, creamy skin and ready smile. She also had four years' experience of two children, from birth, and it was clear from the way she spoke that she was fond of them, unhappy that they were leaving.
‘I think we might suit each other very well,' Breda said. ‘Though you understand I'm not quite sure yet exactly what I want to do?'
‘I understand that,' Grace Paterson said. ‘It's a big decision.'
‘And I'd want you to meet my husband.'
‘Of course!'
How would Graham take it? Breda asked herself the question all the way home. When Graham came in she could not hold it back.
‘It's all very sudden,' he said. ‘Are you sure you're not just . . . well . . . clutching at straws?'
‘'Tis not like that at all,' Breda said. ‘And I have not committed myself in any way. She knows she will have to wait until after the baby's born before I make any decision.'
‘You really liked her?'
‘I did so. But you'll have to meet her for yourself. It concerns us both. Will I ask her to come here?'
‘Very well,' Graham said.
Breda finally left Opal's in the middle of September. She was sorry to go. ‘I've enjoyed every minute of my time here,' she told Miss Opal on her last day. ‘But especially the last few months.'
‘You've done a good job,' Opal said. ‘I dare say it's selfish of me, but I hope you come back to us.'
‘We shall have to see,' Breda said.
In some ways it was a good time to go. She was clear of appointments. Mrs Stevens's room had gone very well, and the lady was delighted with it. ‘It's unrecognizable!' she said. ‘So light and fresh. You really are clever, and I wish you were doing the rest.'
But I'm really tired, Breda admitted to herself. I'm fit enough, but really tired. The doctor had advised her to take things more easily for the last few weeks and she was happy to heed his advice. Grace Paterson would be in from time to time to give her a hand when she needed it. Graham had met Grace twice by now.
‘I have to confess, I like her,' he said. ‘She seems a trustworthy person.'
Aunt Josephine arrived at Heather Cottage, as arranged, two days before the baby was due. ‘They do say first babies are always late and second ones always early,' she said. ‘But best be on the safe side. I'll help you pack what you need, so there's no rush at the last minute.'
‘'Tis all packed,' Breda said. ‘Nightgowns, bedjackets, baby clothes, the lot. And two new books. Once it's over, I shall just lie back and read and sleep!'
‘Make the most of it,' Josephine advised. ‘You'll be too busy to read, once you're home! By the way, Grandma Maguire sent this for the baby.' She produced a small, bone teething ring. ‘She says it belonged to Brendan when he was a baby. All I can say is, she never passed it on to me for any of mine, so count yourself honoured!'
‘Oh I do!' Breda said. ‘I'll write and thank her tomorrow.'
As it turned out, there was no chance to do that. At half-past midnight her labour started. Graham, in a lather of anxiety, far more so than she was, telephoned at once for the taxi, and took her to the maternity home.
‘You can go home now, Mr Prince,' the sister in charge said after the first ten minutes. ‘We'll take care of your wife. This is no place for a man.' She had no time for husbands hanging around.
‘But when . . . ?'
‘Oh, the baby won't be born for hours yet. They take their own time. Telephone around six in the morning and we'll let you know what's happening.'
At one minute after six o'clock, Graham telephoned.
‘My wife,' he said hurriedly. ‘My wife! Is she . . . I mean . . . '
‘It would help if you told me who your wife was,' the nurse said gently.
‘Oh! Mrs Breda Prince!'
‘Just a moment. I'll find out, Mr Prince.'
‘Why doesn't she
know
?' he demanded of Josephine. ‘Why is she stalling? Is something wrong?'
He jumped as the voice sounded in his ear. ‘You have a lovely little daughter, Mr Prince!'
‘What did you say?'
‘A daughter, Mr Prince!'
‘Oh! Thank you! And my wife? What about my wife?'
‘She's well. They're both well.'
‘I'll be there at once!'
He put down the receiver, and turned to Josephine, tears streaming down his face. ‘A daughter! I have a daughter!'
Twenty-Six
‘Will you please give her to me, and I will bathe her,' Molly said.
‘But Mammy . . . !'
‘Do you not trust me to do the job, Breda?' she said. ‘Have I not had seven children of my own?'
And where are they now, she asked herself? Scattered. Kieran busy in his parish in England, though next year he would come home for a visit; Kathleen as happy as a lark in her convent; Moira – well, who knew whether she was happy or not? She had enough of this world's goods to make her so, Barry had done well, but Moira had always wanted more of everything, right from a little girl. Patrick and Colum were doing all right in America, and now the both of them engaged to two sisters, who from their photographs looked nice girls. Little Maeve was in the churchyard, though she would never forget her. And now, thanks be to God, Breda back home in Kilbally, even though 'twas only for a week, for hadn't the pair of them, Breda and Graham alike, to be back at their jobs next Monday morning?
She held out her arms. ‘Come to Grandma, then, and she'll give you a nice, warm, bubbly bath!'
Eileen put out her arms in reply. She liked this new woman in her life, she was round and soft, and spoke quietly. She smiled broadly, showing her eight front teeth, and uttered words which no-one understood but
she
knew said, ‘I'd like you to bath me, Grandma!'
‘You see!' Molly said triumphantly. ‘She
wants
to come to me! Who's Grandma's darling, then?'
‘You spoil her,' Breda said. ‘Heaven knows what she'd be like if you had her here all the time.'
The accusation was good-tempered. What else could you expect when it was the first time Mammy had seen her granddaughter, and she almost a year old now.
‘'Twas a pity you could not come to Hebghyll this summer, Mammy,' she said. ‘We've done a lot in the house. I'd like you to have seen it.'
‘I would have. And I will next year. But someone had to look after Grandma Byrne – God rest her soul! – and who else but me? There was a lot to do for her towards the end.'
Josephine had come from Akersfield for her mother's funeral, bringing all the news of Breda and the baby which hadn't found its way into letters.
‘She's a lovely child,' Josephine enthused. ‘And Breda's a great little mother, in spite of the fact that she has her job and is getting quite well known for it. Did you know she had such talent?'
‘I knew she had something special,' Molly said. ‘I didn't know what it would turn out to be.'
Now she carried Eileen into the bathroom with Breda following behind. It being half-day closing in Kilbally, Graham had gone into Ennis with Luke, who needed to visit a wholesaler.
‘Mammy can watch,' Molly said to Eileen. ‘But Grandma is doing the deed!'
She lowered the child into the water and encouraged her to slap the surface with the flat of both hands. Eileen screamed with delight at the result.
‘She's a bright one!' Molly said. ‘Do you remember, that's what Dada used to call you? The Bright One!'
‘I do,' Breda said. She remembered most things about Dada. She would never forget him, though Luke O'Reilly, she realized now, had been a better husband to Mammy than Dada had.
‘Do you remember when he went off to Galway races and left you behind? My, but you were furious!'
‘And he brought me back a hair slide. I have it still. I keep it in my treasure box, with my pebbles. Did you know I still had my treasure box?'
‘I did not.'
‘It was a wonderful idea you had there, Mammy. I shall give Eileen a treasure box as soon as she's old enough.'
‘You chose a nice name – Eileen,' Molly said.
‘If she had been a boy I would have called her James, after Dada,' Breda said.
‘Next time, perhaps,' Molly said.
She lowered the child onto its back, its head resting on her arm while she gently lathered its hair. Bright auburn hair, it was. Exactly like Breda's.
‘She's the spitting image of you,' Molly said.
Breda laughed. ‘Grandma Prince says she's exactly like Graham when he was a baby!'
‘Stuff and nonsense!' Molly said firmly.
‘Well, if it makes her happy I don't mind,' Breda said. ‘She's as soppy about Eileen as you are, though she doesn't see her often.'
‘And what about this new job of yours? You've never said much in your letters, but Josephine was full of it when she was over.'
She rinsed the lather from the baby's hair, then pulled out the bath plug, lifted the child, and wrapped her in a warm towel.
‘'Tis not new,' Breda said. ‘I was at it before I had Eileen. I had to give it up for a while, of course, and then I went back to it. But you know all that.'
‘I don't know how you do it,' Molly said. ‘'Twas all I could do to cope with the children and the home. I couldn't have done anything else.'
‘But you did, Mammy!' Breda contradicted. ‘Didn't you always help out at the Big House? Cleaning and polishing.'
‘Oh,
that
!' Molly was dismissive. ‘'Twas not a
real
job, and only part time.'
‘In a way, so is mine. I arrange my own hours, and I do a lot of it in my own home.'
And I have Grace, she thought. What would I do without Grace? Grace came whenever she was needed, looked after the baby as if it were her own, and vanished when she was no longer required so that Breda had the house back to herself. Grace was cheerful, sympathetic, capable – and she enjoyed her job. Eileen loved her, and her love was returned.
‘I could have done none of it if I hadn't found Grace,' she said to her mother. ‘And thankfully Graham took to her from the word go.'
Her first job, after she had returned to Opal's in the January of 1951 had been to redesign and refurbish every room in Mrs Stevens's house. ‘I owe it to you for introducing me to Grace,' she'd said.
After that, commissions had flowed in, for Mrs Stevens, like Mrs Alderton before her, spread the gospel far and wide. ‘If anyone wants to see what you can do, let them come and see
my
house!' she'd said. Since then, Breda had never been without work, and usually she had a waiting list. Miss Opal was cock-a-hoop.
‘I think next year,' she said, ‘you should spend one day a week in the Leasfield store, for consultations.'
It was Opal who had also suggested that they should tender for the refurbishing of the White Horse, an old hotel on the outskirts of Hebghyll which had changed hands and was to be completely renovated for reopening in the spring of the following year.
Breda had been doubtful. There would be great competition for the job from well beyond Hebghyll. Everything she had done so far had been intimate, for a single person, or a couple or family, in their own home. The White Horse, when it was finished, would be the best hotel for miles around.
‘What could be better than bringing the feel of a really beautiful home into an hotel? Why not have a go?' Opal urged. ‘If we win it, I'll see you have all the help you require. You'll have no need to do any part that isn't purely creative.' So Breda had let herself be persuaded, and now awaited the outcome.
Molly dressed Eileen in her nightclothes and carried her into the kitchen. ‘A drink of warm milk,' Breda said. ‘Then time for bed – though your Dada's going to be disappointed if you're asleep when he gets back.'
‘So is Luke,' Molly said. ‘He has fallen for her hook, line and sinker. 'Tis the greatest pity he never had children of his own. Wouldn't he have made the best of fathers!'
Half an hour later Luke came in, followed quickly by Graham. ‘Where's my little girl?' Graham called out.
‘Gone to bed, not ten minutes ago,' Breda said.
He bounded up the stairs. When he came down again, fifteen minutes later, he said: ‘She was awake. She was pleased to see me. She's gone off to sleep now.'
‘So what are you two going to do tomorrow?' Molly asked as they sat at supper. ‘I've told you I'll look after Eileen all day, if you like. Luke can manage without me in the shop for once.'
‘What I'd like best,' Breda said, ‘is to go for a long walk along the cliffs. And afterwards down to the strand.' She looked across the table to Graham.
‘A walk down memory lane,' he said. ‘Well, it sounds just fine to me.'
It was fortunately a fine day. They set off mid-morning, taking a packed lunch. ‘Where first?' Graham asked Breda.

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