Chapter 27
TWENTY-SEVEN
‘Do you think Eejit is all right?’ I suddenly ask Ryan, coming to a stop in front of a stall selling cheese.
It’s the next day, and he has joined me in town ahead of my meeting with Deirdre. We’re in a place called the English Market, which is a magnificent building packed with different traders. Fresh seafood, butchers, bakers, wine merchants, fruit – it’s all here, spread out around us in glorious Technicolor.
‘Sure, why wouldn’t he be?’ he says, pulling me to one side so we don’t interrupt the busy flow of human traffic. ‘Eileen’s keeping an eye out for him, and he was fine before you came, you know.’
‘I know that,’ I reply, firmly. ‘I just hate the thought of him scratching at the door to Whimsy and being all confused and sad because I’m not there to let him in. What if he thinks I’ve abandoned him?’
He shakes his head and looks amused, before saying: ‘He’s a dog, Cassie. A tough dog at that – he’s a survivor, that one. He’s definitely tougher than you, you big softie!’
I stick my tongue out at him, and walk away. He’s right, I know he is. I suspect I’m feeling nervous about meeting a new relative, and I’m feeling anxious about the future, and all of it is focusing in on my adopted stray instead. I’m not sure that being worried about Eejit is a good enough reason to relocate to England, but sometimes it seems like it might be.
I’ve bought a few gifts for the folks back home, mainly from a shop so Irish it almost felt like a parody, and I’ve picked up some small items for Charles and the others as well. The retail therapy hasn’t cheered me up much, but it has passed a couple of hours.
Now, I realise as I glance at my phone, it’s nearly time to head upstairs to the Farmgate Cafe.
Ryan sees me look, and says: ‘You have a while yet.’
‘I know, but I prefer to be early – it’ll give me time to start acting like a normal human being instead of someone she wants to disown.’
He sees how flustered I am, and I hate that my nerves are getting the better of me. I’ve been in a little bubble since I arrived in Campton St George – after a bumpy start, everyone now feels reassuringly familiar. I feel safe with them, and stepping outside that bubble is a little harder than I expected.
‘Do you want me to come with you?’ Ryan asks, tilting his head to one side. ‘You seem a bit on the skittish side today.’
I bite my lip, and know I should say no – that I will be fine. Except I kind of do want him to come with me, and maybe this is all part of my changing outlook on life – not being afraid to ask for what I want.
‘Erm… maybe, if you can? I mean, I don’t want to take away from your family time.’
‘I’m here until New Year, Cassie. I’ll be altogether desperate to get away from them before then. Look, it’s no bother or I wouldn’t offer. All right?’
‘All right. Thank you. I don’t know why I feel jittery about it, but I do.’
‘You’re allowed. We all have our moments.’
We head up the wooden stairs, and I stare around for a few minutes as we wait for a spot to be cleared for us. It’s a beautiful space, tables and chairs laid out in a galleried level that overlooks the rest of the market. Sweeping wooden beams soar above us, pale light flooding in from windows in the roof. The décor is classy and the atmosphere bustling, the aromas reminding me that I barely ate at breakfast. I hope my stomach doesn’t start rumbling in the middle of our conversation.
The waitress settles us at a table, and we stare at the menus. It takes Ryan all of thirty seconds to decide, but I’m coming to the conclusion that coffee might be all I need after all.
‘Will you have some toast at least?’ Ryan pushes, as we order. I agree that might be a good idea, and I go back to checking the time on my phone.
‘She’s late,’ I announce, frowning.
‘By three minutes. She’s coming in from Glounthaune, did you say?’
I nod. I have no idea where that is, but she’d assured me by text message that it would be a lot more fun for her to come into the city, where she could ‘make a day of it’.
‘I’ll just message her,’ I decide. ‘I sent her a picture so she’d know who to look out for, but she’ll be expecting me to be on my own.’
‘You needn’t worry. I’d say this is her now, coming right at us.’
I look up from my screen, and see that he is most definitely right. She doesn’t have my height, but there is a definite family resemblance. She’s in her forties, with an identical shade of red hair to me and Suzie, and a surprised look on her face that says she’s thinking exactly the same as me. I stand up to greet her, my chair scraping across the floor.
‘Will you look at that!’ she exclaims as she reaches us, looking me up and down. ‘It’s like somebody stretched me! Sorry I’m a bit late, the trains were awful slow because of the weather. I’m Deirdre, in case you hadn’t guessed.’
She looks Ryan up and down, a glint in her lively blue eyes, and says: ‘And who would this be?’
He stands up and introduces himself, and she laughs when she realises he’s local.
‘And here’s me thinking I was about to meet a dishy American! Nice to meet you both, anyway. Plus a fine excuse to get away from my kids for the day.’
‘You have children?’ I ask, amazed at the thought of this whole other family, linked to me by Nanna Nora.
‘I have four, and they’re all evil.’
The waitress comes back with our drinks, and Deirdre orders tea and toast. Once we’re settled and have exchanged small talk, she says: ‘I was so pleased to hear from you, Cassie. I’ve been pulling together the family tree for a while now as a Christmas present for my daddy, and this is the icing on the cake. I’d heard stories about your nanna, but they were just that, you know? Tales told in the family. She always seemed very mysterious, the way she disappeared.’
‘Disappeared?’ I repeat, frowning.
‘Oh yes. Upped and left, she did, and nobody was certain what became of her. If I have the right of it, she’d have been my great-grandfather’s youngest sister – there were quite a few years between them, I’m told. So your dad and my grandmother were cousins, and you and my dad are third cousins – you share great-grandparents. I think that’s what it is, anyway – it’s enough to make your brain bleed, to be truthful. Anyway – you’re family at least! No doubting that now I’ve met you.’
She chatters away merrily, and I ask: ‘I’m still confused about the disappearing thing. Nanna Nora never talked much about life back here, she just said she’d come to the US for a fresh start, like thousands of others.’
‘I don’t know the ins and outs, it was a long time ago. But from what’s been said in the family, once she left she cut off contact with everybody back home. Sent a postcard saying she was safe and well, and that was that. My granny used to say it was on account of her broken heart.’
‘Her… broken heart?’ I repeat again, stirring my tea so hard it spills over the edge of the cup. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I’m told there was a man – isn’t there always?’
She winks at Ryan as she says this, and he grins back at her, nodding his agreement.
‘Bear in mind, now, that none of this was talked about very much – they were hard times, and that made for hard people, so. A lot of what went on in the past was hidden, and Ireland seems to have an endless supply of rugs to sweep things under.’
My mind immediately goes on high alert, recalling the various national scandals that my nanna commented on as they were exposed – forced adoption, the awful Magdalene Laundries, sexual abuse within the church. She sees my eyes widen, and lays a hand over mine, obviously guessing where my thoughts have led.
‘It was nothing like that, Cassie. Like I said, she had a man, and they became engaged when she was maybe seventeen or eighteen – it sounds young now, but it was normal back then. But as soon as he was old enough, during the Second World War, he ran away to England and joined the army.’
Ryan leans forward, obviously interested, and says: ‘I guess that didn’t go down well?’
‘No, it did not. From what I hear, Nora’s daddy was a proud Irishman, and he wasn’t pleased. Felt like Nora’s fella had shamed them.’
My head is spinning, and I’m not processing this as quickly as I would like.
‘Hang on, I’m confused,’ I say. ‘I thought the South was neutral during the war?’
‘It was,’ Ryan confirms. ‘But it’s emerged since that thousands of men went and joined up. Those that came home were often not treated well.’
‘But why? Why was it such a disgrace?’
The two of them share looks, and Deirdre says: ‘It’s hard to explain, but the politics were complicated at the time. Ireland had basically been at war itself in the not-so-distant past, fighting for independence. There was a lot of bitterness, a lot of anger. A lot of resentment towards the British. Nora’s man was far from alone in what he did, but in our family, it caused trouble. I don’t even know his name – her daddy banned it from being mentioned ever again!’
‘But she was single when she moved to the States,’ I insist, trying to fit the pieces together. ‘She got a job in a hat shop, and met my grandfather and married him. There was no other man.’
‘That’s because he never made it home. He was killed in the Normandy landings I believe. Your poor nanna must have been heartbroken, but wasn’t even allowed to speak his name in the family home… apparently there was some huge disagreement, and she was told she was lucky he was dead so he couldn’t drag her down with him. You can’t imagine, now, can you? They were very different times. To have to live like that, hiding her pain. Terrible. Nobody could blame her for leaving.’
I stare at Deirdre, adding up dates and piecing together information. Nora arrived in the States in 1951, I think, when she was twenty-six. That means she lived at home, with a father who refused to let her grieve, for years after the war.
‘Why did she stay so long?’ I ask. ‘Why didn’t she just move out?’
‘I’d be guessing that she couldn’t. She’d have had no money or independence, and I know her mammy was sick and died sometime in the late forties. Maybe that’s why she stayed? Or maybe she was saving for her fare? We’ll probably never know. I was hoping that you could maybe fill in some of the blanks for us.’
I shake my head, trying to dredge up any memory of Nanna Nora mentioning any of this, or my dad knowing about it – but I come up blank.
‘No, I’m sorry. It was like her life started when she arrived in New York. It’s… God, it’s so sad! She was such a wonderful woman, Deirdre, she really was. She never seemed miserable or heartbroken, she was always full of life. She only died earlier this year, just before her 100 th birthday, and right up until the end she was singing and drinking her Guinness and cracking jokes…’
‘That sounds like one of us, sure,’ Deirdre replies, smiling at me. ‘I’m sorry I’ve upset you, darling – it’s a sad tale. But tell me about her life after the sadness – tell me what happened to her! I’ve always been fascinated, I truly have.’
I nod, and swipe away tears. What happened to Nora was awful, but it doesn’t negate the rest of her life, does it? She did go on to marry, have a child, build a whole new future for herself.
‘She had a good life,’ I say, fighting back the emotion. ‘She settled in New York, and married my granddad, Brendan O’Hara. They had one son, my dad, and he had me and my sister, Suzie. She lost my granddad when she was in her sixties, but she never seemed to let anything defeat her. She liked her gardening, and she took art classes at the community college, and she had a wide circle of friends. She was a wonderful cook – I grew up eating her soda bread and colcannon and apple cake. She was kind and caring, and so damn funny – she cracked me up, she really did! I still can’t believe she’s gone… now I have all these questions to ask her, and no way to do it!’
Ryan looks me in the eyes, and says: ‘You already know everything you need to know about her, Cassie. Everything that matters. She sounds like an incredible lady.’
‘She was. She really was. And I know all of this will settle in my mind eventually – I just wish I’d known earlier.’
‘Ah, sure look it,’ announces Deirdre, ‘she clearly wanted to leave the past where it was, and who can blame her? She lived life to the full, it seems.’
‘I think so, yeah. I often thought that about her – she always seemed so full of spirit. Ready to take on the world even in her nineties.’
‘That’s what she learned, I suppose,’ Deirdre says. ‘To enjoy the moment. We should all be so wise!’
We chat for a while longer, Deirdre giving me a potted history of the family and showing me pictures of her parents and children. Ryan takes some pictures of the two of us together, and Deirdre records a little video message for my dad, inviting him to come and stay.
‘You might regret that,’ I say. ‘He retired last year and he’s been bored silly ever since. He’ll probably be on the next flight!’
‘And he will be very welcome, as will you, Cassie. Not so sure about you, Ryan – reckon my fella would get a fit of the green-eyed monster if I brought you home!’
‘As he should, Deirdre,’ Ryan replies easily. ‘You’re a fine-looking woman.’
She blushes slightly, and I laugh. He is unstoppable, he really is.
After an hour and several more pots of tea, Deirdre tells us she has to get moving. We hug each other firmly, and she departs after a flurry of mutual promises to stay in touch. I watch her disappear off down the wooden stairs, swallowed up into the bustle of the market, and feel strangely sad to see her go. I barely know her, but she is part of me – part of Nanna Nora.
I sit back down, deflated, and Ryan pushes a plate of thick toast towards me.
‘I’m not hungry,’ I say.
‘That’s not the point. You need to eat, line your stomach.’
‘Why?’
‘Well, obviously, because I’m taking you on the world’s best pub crawl. You look like you need it, and we can raise a glass to Nanna Nora in every bar we visit. How does that sound?’
It sounds, I think, like the perfect plan. I raise my mug of tea, and say: ‘ Slainte! ’