Moving On

Post

Post

Dear Ellen

I hope you’re keeping well. All is fine with me, but three of the teachers are out with a bad flu, along with several of the children – it’s doing the rounds, so I hope I don’t catch it. I suppose it’s not surprising, with the cold weather we’ve been getting. Make sure you wrap up well when you go out, especially if you’re still walking to work – the early mornings can be chilly. Yesterday we had very heavy rain, I don’t know if Galway got it too. There was flooding on the Limerick road.

I hope the job is going well. You didn’t seem that happy in the typing pool, although you never said very much about it. Frances tells me you’re a great help to her, and I’m sure she’s glad of the company too.

She mentioned Claire Sullivan was up for a night before Halloween. I was surprised to hear it. I thought you might have cut ties when you left for Galway, especially as you’re probably making lots of other friends now. I see her mother got a new car. I don’t know the make but it’s red, and a little flashy for my liking. They must have money to burn with that pub.

You’ll be sorry to hear John Dalton died on Thursday. He hadn’t been well since the summer. He’ll be missed around the place, always out on the bicycle, even after he turned eighty. There was a good turnout at the funeral. That house will be up for sale now. It needs a lot of work, but it has the bay window and the converted garage.

This house is very quiet during the week without you and Joan. It’s good to have Joan at the weekends. She’s hoping to find a job here in town when she graduates next summer. It’ll be nice to see you too, when you’re able to take a break. Pity you don’t have Saturdays off.

I’ll stop now and get this into the post. Drop me a line when you get a chance. It would be nice to hear your news.

Mam

Ellen read it through, her face expressionless.

I thought you might have cut ties when you left for Galway. She hadn’t a clue. Wait till Claire finally made it here.

It’s red, and a little flashy for my liking . It was a Toyota Starlet, Claire had told her. Hardly flashy.

It’s good to have Joan at the weekends. The only reason Joan went home every weekend was to see Seamus.

Ellen had written to her mother twice since moving to Galway. The first had been to thank her for the Walkman; the second, a month later, had contained nothing of any consequence. Job going well, making friends, Frances nice, weather changeable.

Her mother’s letters arrived every two weeks. She dropped this one into the wastepaper basket in her room.

She’d write back next week, or maybe the week after.