When All Is Said(38)

‘Only us,’ she called, as we entered.

I followed anxiously, expecting to find a younger, sadder Sadie. But the woman before me, sitting by the window, bore no resemblance to your mother at all. Smiling broadly, her face didn’t seem to fit with the family. Her dark hair was worn straight to her shoulders, with a fringe. She was plump with sallow skin and brown eyes that suggested a youth and beauty that could’ve been foreign.

‘Maurice!’ she said, rising from her chair, coming to embrace me as if we were old pals. I looked to the others for guidance, but each looked back at me completely baffled. I patted her shoulders cagily.

‘Lovely to meet you, Noreen. You seem well.’

She said nothing. But still held on to me, her head on my shoulder.

It was Sadie who came to peel her away when she stayed in that position longer than was comfortable. She didn’t protest, but neither did her eyes leave me. They clung on. She insisted I sit on her bed beside her as she sat at the window. And while she said very little else, every now and then her hand would stretch over to my arm, where she would leave it, feeling the fabric of my shirt. It didn’t upset me and I was in fact comforted by her touch and so when I saw Sadie rise to intervene, I motioned for her to sit. I glanced at her parents and they, like Sadie, seemed ill at ease with Noreen’s goings on. They sat on the edge of their chairs, tense and ready to pounce.

But after a while, they settled, their conversation growing more natural. I sat listening to the news of the village, becoming lost in it, enjoying learning about Annamoe and all who lived there. Every now and again, I began to feel a slight tapping or it was more like a tickle against my leg. I paid no heed at first, as it was so brief. But then it began to annoy me and I looked down to swat away what I was sure would be a fly.

‘Noreen, no! Mammy! She’s at it again. Noreen, take your hand out of there,’ Sadie protested.

The level of disgust was such that I didn’t associate it with me, at first, but on following Sadie’s eyes, I saw Noreen’s hand lift out of the pocket of my jacket that had lain over my leg. Drawing her hand close to her face, she peered at what she had taken and laughed. Of course, you can guess what she was at, how well did you know her games.

‘Sparkle, sparkle,’ she said, like a little girl whispering a secret.

‘Noreen! Oh, Maurice I’m so sorry. She does this. She loves money. Coins. She was forever going through our pockets at home like that. It’s the silver ones really. Now Noreen, give those back to Maurice, they’re not yours,’ Sadie said. She was up at this stage, in front of Noreen scolding her.

‘Sparkle, sparkle,’ Noreen said defiantly, turning to the window, ignoring her sister. She stared at the shilling she held in her hand, letting the coppers fall.

Sadie and her mother leapt to rescue my farthings and ha’pennies as they hit the hard floor.

‘Maurice, I am so sorry. We’ve tried to teach her,’ Sadie’s mother assured me.

‘There’s not a bother, Mrs McDonagh. Don’t be worrying,’ I said, joining the bent heads scrambling around for my few pennies.

‘Now Noreen, it’s not yours. Give it back.’ Her mother’s muffled instruction rose up to her daughter, who, I noticed, was having none of it. I turned an amused grin to the dark-haired divil beside me.

‘You like the shiny ones? Well, aren’t you clever, going for the ones that are worth more? It should be you working in the bank and not your sister,’ I said, laughing a little.

Noreen’s laugh erupted. Nearly blowing me back with the force of it. Such a fine appreciation of my wit, I thought, before realising she hadn’t even heard what I’d said. Her happiness was about the coin, nothing else. As the others returned to their chairs, her manic laugh continued. They sat as tense as before like runners waiting for the race to start. Mrs McDonagh glanced at the father and tilted her head towards the door and to the help that might be on the other side. It all seemed a little extreme to me. But what they knew, which at that stage I didn’t, was that the return of the shilling would be a hard-won battle, should I ask for it back. Suddenly with no warning Noreen stopped laughing, its abrupt halt as startling as its eruption. Then her free hand reached for my arm, to feel the shirt fabric once again. Despite all the worried stares, I put my hand on hers.

‘You keep that, Noreen. I might not always have one to give but you can have that now as my gift. Sparkle, sparkle, what?’ I patted her hand.

‘Sparkle, sparkle,’ she replied, and laid her head on my shoulder.

To this day, despite the many conversations had on the subject, no one could quite figure out why Noreen took to me as she did. No stranger was ever given the welcome of our first meeting.

‘It’s my irresistible charm. It worked on her sister didn’t it?’ I offered in explanation as we drove back to Annamoe after the visit, taking a sneaky peek to my right at your grandfather, breathing an internal sigh of relief on seeing him grin.

Noreen had worked a miracle that day: having walked into that hospital a condemned man in my future father-in-law’s eyes, I walked out a hero. She had changed everything. From then on he paid attention to me. Listened to what I had to say. Even agreed with it occasionally. Either way, I felt I had his respect from that day on. And so it was when I came to ask for your mother’s hand, he said:

‘Her mother would kill me if I said no, not to mention her sister. You have my blessing, Maurice.’