Chapter 6
6
The trip to Magnolia Manor was tiring and stressful. Heathrow was very busy and getting through security a huge hassle. Then the flight to Dublin was delayed and Vi had to sit at the gate for over two hours before boarding. She found herself in a middle seat, squashed between two rugby players on their way back after a match. Both of them fell asleep as soon as the plane took off and snored loudly all through the trip. When she finally arrived and had got her luggage, she just missed the bus that would take her to the train station and had to wait half an hour for the next one. She should have bought a flight to Cork instead but they were all booked out so she had been forced to fly to Dublin.
While she waited for the bus, her thoughts went back to her family. She smiled as she thought of the film company negotiating with her grandmother, Sylvia Fleury, who, despite her eighty-five years was still as fresh as a daisy in both body and mind. Vi had always thought of her grandmother as a steel rod, strong and unbendable even in the worst storms. And there had been storms all through her life, especially when both her husband and son, Vi’s grandfather and father, were killed in a boating accident off the Kerry coast. Vi had only been two years old at the time and couldn’t remember either her father or grandfather. But the tragedy had affected her life nevertheless.
Vi’s older sisters, Lily and Rose, had been devastated and the trauma of that awful day would always stay with them. Vi had always been envious of her sisters because they had memories of their father that Vi could never share, which felt like a loss all on its own.
By the time Vi got on the train at around six o’clock in the evening, it was already dark. She normally enjoyed the journey through the charming landscape of rolling green hills but she was exhausted and fell asleep, not waking up until she arrived in Mallow, where she changed for the train to Tralee. It didn’t arrive there until after ten o’clock and, as she hadn’t wanted to ask her grandmother to meet her, she would have to take a taxi, which would not be cheap. But she had no choice and she realised that there was nobody to call for help.
She walked into the old building that she had always found so interesting with its facade built of granite and the original sash windows. It had been built in 1859 when Kerry became a popular area for holiday makers. Vi had always loved the old interior with its wooden benches where she imagined people sitting waiting for trains all through the years. But now the waiting rooms were cold and deserted and she walked out, feeling lost and lonely. She had been away too long and Kerry suddenly felt more alien than London.
Vi was standing on the platform considering her options when she heard someone calling her name. She looked around and saw a figure waving further down the platform. Then she realised who it was. Nora, who used to work as housekeeper at Magnolia Manor and was now her grandmother’s friend and confidant.
‘Nora,’ Vi called, running towards the woman while she pulled her suitcase behind her. ‘Hi. What are you doing here?’
‘We came to meet you and take you home,’ Nora replied as Vi arrived by her side. ‘Sylvia said you’d be coming today and we figured you’d be on the late train. Martin is parking the car and sent me to look for you.’
Vi stared at Nora as tears welled up. ‘Oh, how lovely,’ she said and fell into Nora’s arms. ‘I’m so glad to see you. I thought nobody would come and meet me.’
‘Oh, my dear girl,’ Nora said, giving Vi a tight hug. ‘Of course we’d come. Aren’t you one of our Fleury girls that we’re so very fond of?’
‘I just wasn’t sure,’ Vi said. She didn’t want to admit that she thought Nora might have heard what she’d said about her sisters. ‘We had that disagreement last year, so…’
‘Your sisters will come around eventually, I’m sure,’ Nora soothed, as if reading her mind.
‘Eventually,’ Vi said bitterly. ‘Like when hell freezes over?’ She looked at Nora and noticed only a few small changes in her appearance. In her mid-sixties, Nora had greying short hair and lovely blue eyes around which there were only a few wrinkles. ‘You look good,’ she said to Nora. ‘Fit and bright and youthful.’
Nora laughed. ‘Well, thanks. Coming from a young thing like yourself, that’s a big compliment.’ She took Vi’s suitcase and started to roll it towards the exit. ‘Now come on. Martin will wonder what happened. It’ll take just under an hour to get home. Sylvia is waiting up with supper and then you can settle into the gatehouse. We turned on the heating and made up the bed for you. You’ll be as snug as a bug in a rug.’
‘Oh, that sounds so great,’ Vi said as she hitched her tote bag onto her shoulder and followed Nora, all the tensions about meeting her sisters nearly forgotten. ‘Can’t wait to see Granny.’
‘She’ll be happy to see you too.’ Nora turned around and peered at Vi. ‘There was something in the newspaper about you making a film about Kathleen O’Sullivan – with a photo of you looking the spit of her.’
‘Oh, was there?’ Vi realised that the press release was out there already. ‘Yes, as you know they’ll shoot some of it at Magnolia. I’m sure Granny told you.’
‘She did. Good news. It’ll bring in some money and publicity for the manor and Lily’s café and garden centre. It’s getting hard to make ends meet in the wintertime.’
‘I can imagine,’ Vi said as they exited the station. She scanned the street for Martin and spotted him a little further away, getting out of a Toyota SUV. ‘There’s Martin,’ she said, quickening her step. ‘And you have a new car.’
‘We do,’ Nora said. ‘A bit big but Martin loves it. It’s a hybrid so we’re doing our bit for the environment.’
‘That’s great,’ Vi said and hurried to greet Martin with a hug. ‘Hi, Martin. So good to see you. How are you?’
Martin hugged Vi back. ‘I’m grand, girl. And you’re all grown up and a famous actress and all over the papers for the film they’re going to shoot here. How about that for excitement, eh?’ He drew breath and beamed at her.
Vi laughed, feeling sheer joy at seeing Martin after such a long time. He was a little stooped and his hair white but he was still the father figure from her childhood, the one who had been there for the little girls after the tragedy, even though Vi had been just a toddler then and not known what had happened until she was older. Martin and Nora had been such a support to Sylvia all through the years and still were, even though they were now both retired. But Sylvia knew she could count on them whenever she needed support or a helping hand. Vi had always found it comforting to know her grandmother had people around her who were loyal and dependable. But now that two of her granddaughters lived locally, Sylvia had even more support and would never have to worry if something should happen.
‘Please get in, ladies,’ Martin said when he had put Vi’s luggage in the boot. ‘It’s going to be wet and windy tonight so we need to have Vi all tucked up before we go home.’
They laughed and piled into the car, and Martin took off at speed down the empty street. Vi looked out the window at the little houses lining the road, their windows lit up and smoke coming out of the chimneys. The old-fashioned street lights shone on tiny front gardens with neatly clipped hedges and camellia bushes that would be flowering in early spring, which didn’t seem too far away in this mild climate. Even now, in late November there were roses still in bloom. She could smell turf smoke and slowly began to feel that she was coming home.
Her thoughts drifted to the press release that had been in the local papers and she wondered how Lily and Rose had taken the news. Maybe they thought history would repeat itself and Vi would yet again talk about them in a derogatory way. But it had been completely accidental and her words had been twisted to make her sound as if she was belittling Lily and Rose and felt somehow superior. This was far from the truth and she wished with all her heart that she had kept her mouth shut and not talked to the journalist when she had thought she was off the record. In any case, the article had not been helpful to her career in any way. Of course it was yesterday’s news, or even last year’s, but still fresh to Lily and Rose, who could not forget or forgive Vi for letting them down in this way. And now she was coming home and they would be giving Vi the cold shoulder for all to see. Dingle was a small town and everyone knew everyone’s business, so Vi knew she would be looked at askance by all the people she knew, even old friends. It was not a good feeling.
‘Here we are,’ Martin said what seemed like a short while later, as they made their way up the drive towards Magnolia Manor. It was a cold night with clear skies after the heavy showers, and Vi could see the manor gleaming in the moonlight at the end of the avenue. Soft lamplight shone in some of the windows of the big house and she figured that these were the senior apartments now all occupied. It looked so nice to see the lights instead of the huge empty house with dark windows that she remembered. How lovely that the house was now full of people who were probably happy to live in such a beautiful place.
Martin drove around the corner and pulled up in the courtyard where a light shone over a green door. ‘Your granny is waiting with supper,’ he said. ‘We’ll go back to the gatehouse with your luggage and then pick you up after you have eaten.’
‘That’s okay,’ Vi said. ‘I’d love to walk back to the gatehouse in the moonlight. I’ve been sitting all day and the fresh air will be good. You go on home.’
‘Are you sure?’ Nora asked, looking doubtful.
‘Absolutely,’ Vi insisted. ‘You were brilliant to meet me and drive me home. But now I want to manage on my own. I know the gardens like the back of my hand, you know. I could walk down the path with my eyes closed and still find the gatehouse.’
Nora nodded. ‘Okay, Vi. I see what you mean. But we’re so happy to see you back, aren’t we, Martin?’
‘We are,’ Martin agreed. He got out of the car and held the door open for Vi. ‘You go inside now. Your granny is waiting.’
Vi jumped out of the car and reached up and touched his cheek. ‘Thank you for everything, Martin. You and Nora saved my life tonight.’
‘Oh, you’d have been all right,’ Nora said, sticking her head out the window. ‘But I’m glad we could help out. Don’t worry about that old story. The girls will come around. Silly of them to carry a grudge. Tell them I said that.’
‘Thank you, Nora,’ Vi said, opening the passenger door to give Nora a hug. ‘Goodnight. See you tomorrow, I hope.’
‘Goodnight, pet,’ Nora said and patted Vi’s arm. ‘Sleep tight when you get to bed. I’ll turn on the electric blanket for you.’
‘Wonderful. Goodnight, darlings,’ Vi said and blew them both a kiss before she went to the green door and pressed the button beside it. She shivered slightly as Martin’s car drove off, feeling a dart of dread at facing her grandmother.
But then the door flew open and Sylvia stood in the doorway beaming, her arms open. ‘Violet,’ she said. ‘How wonderful that you’re here.’
Vi stifled a sob and fell into her grandmother’s arms, breathing in that special scent of expensive perfume mingled with newly baked bread. ‘Granny,’ she mumbled and hugged the old woman tight. ‘I’m here at last.’
‘So you are,’ Sylvia said, stroking Vi’s hair. ‘Welcome home, Violetta.’
Vi smiled as she heard the old nickname. ‘Thank you, Granny. I’m so happy to be here.’ She sniffed the air. ‘Is that freshly baked soda bread I can smell? And Irish stew?’
‘It is indeed,’ Sylvia said and pulled Vi into a small cosy hall. ‘Hang up your jacket and come into the kitchen and I’ll feed you. I want to put some flesh onto those bones.’
Vi laughed and hung up her jacket on a peg among a lot of other jackets and coats. ‘I do need to put on weight for this role.’
Sylvia smiled and led the way into a cosy kitchen where the smells of fresh bread and Irish stew were even stronger. She pulled out a chair at the round table in the large alcove. ‘There was an item in The Irish Times about it today with a photo of you looking the spit of Kathleen. Quite eerie, I have to tell you.’
‘I know. The makeup artist did a great job. I was quite amazed myself.’ Vi sat down at the table while Sylvia went to the cooker to ladle stew onto a plate. Then she sat down while Vi dug in to the food.
‘So how was it?’ Sylvia asked. ‘Finding out you got the part, I mean.’
‘I was quite shocked actually.’ Vi put down her fork. ‘I didn’t expect to get it. Not even when they were saying I was the image of Kathleen. I’m still trying to get used to the idea. Me playing a major part in a movie? Unbelievable.’ She shook her head and started eating again. ‘This is delicious. Just like you always used to make it.’
‘Why would I change it?’ Sylvia asked. ‘It’s the one dish I do well. The rest I leave up to Arnaud when he’s here and Nora when he’s not.’
‘But now he’s not? And you would normally be in France,’ Vi said, looking at her grandmother with concern.
‘I know,’ Sylvia said with a shrug. ‘France was nice and warm and sunny. Quite lovely this time of year. But I just didn’t fit in. There wasn’t much to do there on the Riviera in the winter. It was full of old people sitting around playing cards and boules and generally shuffling around trying to pass the time. Quite pleasant but I got bored. Arnaud was running his business from his villa and was busy a lot of the time. I missed home too much. Here I have things to do and friends I have known all my life. And then there are my committees and charity work and my granddaughters and great-grandchildren. The tenants of the apartments are all very nice people too and I’m getting to know them.’
‘I can’t hear any noise,’ Vi remarked. ‘You wouldn’t know that there was anyone upstairs.’
‘That’s because they go to bed around ten o’clock,’ Sylvia said. ‘I love knowing they’re there and that the house is giving such comfort and companionship to older people. This is my home and I love it. Too much to miss for a bit of sunshine, food and wine.’
‘And the company of a handsome man,’ Vi cut in.
‘I know,’ Sylvia said with a wistful smile. ‘I do miss him, that’s the worst part. But he’ll be here for Christmas and then in the spring, summer and early autumn.’
‘I’m so glad you’re not in France,’ Vi said. ‘I couldn’t bear it if you were away now that I’m going to spend some time here.’
‘That’s good. But what are you going to do while you wait for the filming to start?’ Sylvia asked. ‘It’s not until March according to the producer. That’s four months away.’
‘I want to find out everything I can about Kathleen O’Sullivan,’ Vi replied. ‘Get under her skin, so to speak. I want… Oh, Granny, this has to be a huge success or I’m finished. I need to be as good as Meryl Streep playing Margaret Thatcher.’
‘A very tall order. She was outstanding in that movie.’ Sylvia held out her hand for Vi’s plate. ‘Some more stew?’
‘No thanks, Granny. It was yummy, but I’m stuffed.’ Vi pushed her plate away.
‘How about a slice of Nora’s apple pie?’ Sylvia asked with an amused smile. ‘With whipped cream. That might help pile on the pounds. You look like you need some flesh on those bones.’
‘I think I could fit that in,’ Vi said, laughing. ‘You know that’s one of the things I can’t resist.’
‘I thought you might make room for that.’ Sylvia went to the oven and took out a dish with half a pie. ‘I heated it for you. And I whipped some cream too.’
‘Oh, lovely.’ Vi tucked into the large slice with whipped cream heaped on top. ‘Funny how sweet things are easier to eat than anything savoury.’ She swallowed her mouthful and looked at Sylvia. ‘I was thinking, Granny, that you might know some things about Kathleen’s early life here in Kerry. I mean, you’re the same generation, aren’t you?’
‘Well,’ Sylvia said, ‘I suppose we were in a way. But Kathleen was born in nineteen twenty-nine, eleven years before I arrived. That’s quite an age difference.’
‘I know but…’ Vi paused while she finished her apple pie. ‘You must have known something about her, or known people who knew her. She grew up not a million miles from here, after all.’
‘Very different places,’ Sylvia said, her mouth in a thin line. ‘And her family was… Well, not of the same social class, if that doesn’t sound too snobby.’
‘It does,’ Vi remarked. ‘But I know what you mean.’ She looked at her grandmother for a moment. ‘Can you tell me anything about her that might help me get to know her better?’
‘Oh, much to tell,’ Sylvia mumbled. ‘But nothing I can talk about.’
‘Why not?’ Vi asked.
‘Well, de mortuis nil nisi bonum and all that.’ Sylvia got up and took Vi’s plate. ‘Maybe it’s time to go to bed now anyway. It’s nearly midnight.’
Vi nodded, knowing there was no use pushing her grandmother. It was late and Vi was tired after a long day’s travelling. The questions would have to be put more diplomatically at the right moment. ‘You’re right. It’s been quite a long day,’ she said, getting up. ‘Dinner was lovely and the apple pie fantastic. Thanks for waiting up, Granny. It’s so great to see you.’
‘Of course I’d wait up for you, my darling Violetta.’ Sylvia put the plate in the sink. Then she turned and took Vi’s hands in a tight grip, her eyes full of love. ‘I’m so glad you’re here.’
‘That’s good to know,’ Vi said. ‘Because I’m happy to be home despite what everyone might think.’
‘Don’t worry about what everyone else thinks,’ Sylvia said. ‘You were such a gift and you always will be to me. You were our bright spark when you were a little girl. The only one who wasn’t touched by the tragedy. You were only a toddler but every time you came into a room you were like a ray of sunshine, smiling, laughing, playing games, bringing me a bunch of dandelions you had picked especially for me. You looked at me with your huge green eyes and your smile was like a balm to my soul. You had no idea what had happened and didn’t understand our tears. It helped us all through the worst of it.’
‘Oh,’ Vi said, touched by the emotion in those words. ‘That’s such a lovely thought. I always felt that I missed something because I don’t remember Granddad or my father. I don’t really remember anything about that sad time either. I understood it better when I grew up. It must have been a terrible time for you all.’
‘It was unbearable.’ Sylvia squeezed Vi’s hands and then let them go. ‘But here we are, years and years later and you’re a young woman on the cusp of a great career as an actress.’
‘Oh, well. That’s not exactly set in stone,’ Vi said, feeling the old insecurity set in. ‘The movie might flop.’
‘Or it might not,’ Sylvia retorted. ‘All I know is that it being shot here is like a little miracle. We need the money and the publicity. Things aren’t really working out as we hoped, you see. Your sisters are both going through a tough period in their lives. Maybe you can be that bright spark to them again.’
‘If they’ll let me in,’ Vi mumbled, feeling worried to hear Rose and Lily were struggling. What could be wrong? With beautiful families and perfect husbands, surely they didn’t have anything to complain about.
‘They will in time,’ Sylvia promised. She stifled a yawn. ‘But now, little Violetta, I need my beauty sleep. And so do you. Are you strong enough to walk down to the gatehouse on your own?’
‘Of course,’ Vi said. ‘I want to walk down the path and smell the sea and listen to the owl, if he’s still around.’
‘He is,’ Sylvia said, smiling. ‘Or maybe it’s a she? I think the bed is made down there in the house and Nora said she’d turn on the heating and leave lights on. You should be fine there.’
‘As snug as a bug in a rug,’ Vi said with a fond smile. She leaned forward and kissed her grandmother’s soft cheek. ‘Night, night, Granny. See you in the morning.’
Sylvia patted Vi’s cheek. ‘Sleep tight. We can have a lazy morning tomorrow. And then we could have lunch somewhere nice when you’ve settled in. How about that?’
‘Sounds perfect,’ Vi said, smiling. ‘Looking forward to it already. See you soon.’
She left her grandmother and stepped out of the house and into the dark courtyard. She turned the corner to walk down the moonlit path, the gravel crunching under her feet. She breathed in the smell of turf smoke and sea, and heard the owl hoot above her as its dark shadow swept across the lawn. It was both eerie and beautiful and it brought Vi back to her childhood. She thought of her grandmother’s words about how Vi had been their ray of sunshine during those dark days long ago. That thought made her feel more hopeful and she wished her sisters might remember her like that; the bright spark that helped them feel a little better.
Then her thoughts drifted to Kathleen O’Sullivan and what her grandmother had said. De mortuis nil nisi bonum… Don’t speak ill of the dead , she thought, but what did Granny mean by that? It made her suspect that Kathleen’s youth might not have been as sunny as everyone thought.
Maybe there were things behind the glossy Hollywood image that nobody knew about.