‘And this is Russell McDowd, my—’
‘I’m a friend of Kenny and Jonathan’s. Lovely to meet you, Mrs Harpur,’ Russell interjected kindly, not sure if Jonathan’s mother was ready to hear the term ‘partner’ in relation to another man.
‘Delighted to meet you, Russell. I’m ever so pleased Jonathan is making good friends in Dublin. Now just let me do a few more spuds for a bit of mash and there’ll be plenty for the dinner. Jonathan, put the kettle on and make your friends a pot of tea.’ Nancy bustled around putting mugs on the table before taking a bag of potatoes out of her small pantry.
‘Please don’t go to any trouble, Mrs Harpur,’ implored Kenny. ‘Couldn’t we go out for a meal and save you the bother?’
Jonathan laughed as he filled the kettle. ‘Kenny, you’re getting a Mammy Dinner. There’ll be no going out for a meal. You might as well save your breath to cool your porridge.’
‘But we arrived unexpectedly, we can’t impose—’
‘Whist now like a good lad. It won’t take me a minute to peel these,’ Nancy said firmly, ignoring his protests. Russell couldn’t hide his amusement. It had been a long time since Master Kenny Dowling had been told to whist.
The rain battered furiously against the kitchen window and a faint growl of thunder grew into a roar as it raged across the sky. The smell of the roast, and the mushy peas that simmered in the small pot on the cooker filled the homely kitchen as the three friends sat around the table drinking tea and chatting easily with Jonathan’s mother. When the food was ready, Nancy carved the pork while Jonathan lashed yellow globs of butter onto the carrots and the boiled potatoes, mashing the spuds into a fluffy white cloud, with a good portion of cream for added texture and flavour. He slid the crispy golden roast potatoes out of the oven, while Nancy plated up the inviting dinner. She smiled, gratified, as the three men devoured it.
‘That was scrumptious, Mrs Harpur. You can’t beat a Mammy Dinner, as Jonathan calls it,’ Russell complimented her, scraping the last bit of mushy peas, mash and gravy from the plate.
‘You need to cook proper dinners. It’s all very well going to these fancy restaurants and bistros and having your pâtés and your bruschettas and risottos and the like, but meat, veg and potatoes is good for you,’ Nancy declared, placing a large serving of home-made apple tart and cream in front of him. ‘Eat that up now. It was very kind of you to come and save me from myself, I’m a divil for apple pie.’
‘Me too!’ Kenny enthused, spooning a mouthful of feather-light pastry into his mouth. ‘Jonathan, we’ll be coming to visit more often.’ He grinned across the table at his friend.
‘You come whenever you want. Jonathan’s pals are always welcome. Now I’m going up to get ready. I want to be at the church before the hearse arrives. We’ll meet the girls there; they were in Galway for the weekend. I hope they’ll be back in time. Put the dishes in the dishwasher, son, before we go, so we can come back to a tidy kitchen,’ Nancy instructed, hurrying out of the room.
‘Yes, Mother,’ Jonathan saluted.
‘She’s a sweetheart, Jonathan. She idolizes you.’ Kenny cleared the table.
‘I know. She’s the best. And I’m glad I never told her what happened. She’s contented with her life now and I want it to stay like that.’
‘For what it’s worth, I think you’re right,’ Russell said quietly. ‘Although I think she would be very supportive of you. More than mine was,’ he added with a hint of bitterness.
‘Oh! What happened, or do you prefer not to talk about it?’ Jonathan ventured, placing the saucepans into the dishwasher.
‘I told my mother one of the Christian Brothers was making me touch him on his privates and I got a hard clip around the ear and was told not to tell filthy lies about a holy man. She never forgave me for it either and often asked me had I told the priest in confession that I’d been telling lies.’
‘That’s terrible,’ Jonathan said sombrely.
‘She couldn’t believe that a “man of God” would do such things. The Church is sacrosanct in her eyes. All this talk of abuse is the work of the devil to bring down the Church, that’s what she told me a while back. There’s no point in going there. She believes what she wants to believe and she certainly doesn’t believe me.’ Russell’s face darkened.
‘Do you go to counselling?’
‘Indeed I do. What would we all do without Hannah?’
‘Aw she’s amazing. She makes you feel so good about yourself. She’s at a conference in Birmingham this weekend but I’ve booked an appointment next week.’ Jonathan wiped down the countertop vigorously wishing he could wipe away his past as easily.
‘Well, the only thing that gives me any satisfaction is that I frightened the shite out of the old cockroach before he died. I met him on the street and of course he didn’t recognize me, but I told him who I was and he still didn’t remember me. Can you believe that?’ Russell grimaced. ‘I was of no consequence to him at all. The fact that he ruined my childhood was not a consideration in this “man of God’s” life. I could have clocked him. I nearly did actually. Anyway I told him I was reporting his abuse to the guards and I told him he’d want to watch over his shoulder wherever he went out because one day myself and some of the other lads he abused were going to get him and bring him somewhere quiet and beat the living daylights out of him. He wasn’t so brave and
