Noreen frowned unable to picture the scene her sister had painted. ‘That doesn’t sound like Emer. I’ve never heard her say a cross word.’
Rosamunde heaved her laden basket onto the counter. ‘Oh, you’ve always been blind to her faults, Noreen. You and Malachy both. She’s a side to her at times that one. Nobody’s perfect you know. She’s a long way to fall from the pedestal you have her on,’ Rosamunde said, before shaking her head in a manner which made Noreen feel spiky with irritation and her words niggled Noreen for a long while after she’d left.
Chapter 21
‘Can I interrupt you there, Noreen?’ Father Peter said. ‘I can see it’s distressing you talking about this and sure, everybody knows there’s no trouble so great or grave that cannot be much diminished by a cup of tea.’ He took the cosy off the pot and poured another strong brew for her, leaving her to help herself to the milk and sugar. She didn’t normally take sugar but today she put a teaspoon in. The sugar would help calm the anxiety raking over the past had wrought.
‘Another slice of your delicious cake?’ Father Peter held the knife poised over the sponge hopefully.
‘No thank you, Father, but sure, help yourself. I made it to be enjoyed.’
‘And that it will be, Noreen, that it will be,’ he muttered, slicing into it.
She sipped her tea allowing the hot, sweet liquid to settle her nerves while he slid a generous wedge onto his plate and began to wolf it down with as much gusto as he had the first piece. This time when he’d finished and wiped his mouth he managed, to Noreen’s relief, to remove the cream from his nose.
‘Now then, Noreen, you’re looking much more composed,’ Father Peter said, pushing the plate away from him, his clasped hands resting around a middle clearly straining against his shirt. ‘Are you ready to carry on?’
‘I am, thank you, Father.’
1970
IT WAS A DAY OF RAINBOWS when Noreen ventured into Cork. There was a sale on in Roches Stores there on Patrick Street and as she made her way toward the building with its grand copper-covered dome, she could see the line of eager shoppers waiting for the doors to open. She and Malachy had left it to Emer to open the shop in order to pootle into the city at an ungodly hour of the morning. Malachy was going to the grocery wholesalers while she fought the crowd in the women’s clothing department here at Roches. They’d arranged to meet outside the store’s main door for midday in order to go and treat themselves to a spot of lunch. The thought of standing around outside the frontage like so many youngsters did on a Friday evening, waiting to meet their date made her smile. At least her stomach wouldn’t be all of a flutter wondering whether he’d show up or she’d find herself stood up and sloping off home on the bus. He’d always been a reliable sort, her Malachy.
Noreen reached the store and tagged onto the end of the chattering queue. There was a sense of excitement in the air at the thought of the glorious bargains about to be found inside and she crossed her fingers in the pocket of her smart, going into town jacket hoping she’d be able to find what it was she’d come for. It wasn’t herself she was after shopping for today. No, it was Emer. She’d seen the look of yearning in her niece’s eye the day Mrs Darby had breezed unexpectedly into their shop.
Mrs Darby was a mythical creature who lived in the big house halfway between their village and the next town. She spoke with a plum wedged firmly in her lipsticked mouth and was hardly ever seen on the streets of Claredoncally, preferring to do her shopping in town. So, when her sleek grey, automobile pulled up on the main street, Maisie Donovan had burst through the door of Grady’s Convenience Store full of this breaking news. Emer had gone to the window, pressing her nose to it as she peered down the street before declaring excitedly that the glamorous vision wrapped in a royal blue, belted wrap coat and matching hat was heading toward their shop. Noreen had fluffed her hair and straightened her shop coat before standing to attention as though she were about to greet the Queen behind the counter.
Indeed, the door had jangled a moment later and the lady herself had swept into the store bringing with her a cloud of cloying perfume. Noreen had wanted to hiss at Maisie to close her great big gawping mouth because she looked like the village idiot which was all well and good for her but there was no need to make them all look bumpkins. She was out of earshot though, lurking alongside the packets of digestive biscuits she’d been wondering whether to have with her morning tea and so Noreen had to bite her tongue. Emer had leaped to attention and was fawning all over the elegant apparition asking what she could fetch for her. She wouldn’t be able to complain the service at Grady’s wasn’t up to speed Noreen had thought proudly as she watched her niece scurry toward her in order to fetch the newspaper which Mrs Darby was bemoaning had not arrived at Briar House that morning. It meant Mr Darby’s day had not gotten off to a good start, she
