Novel 6

 

Chapter Six.

The Liberties.

The Liberties, in Dublin, is one of the City's oldest, historic, working class areas.

Why is it called The Liberties, and not The Liberty?

It is because it joined two districts which were each called The Liberty: one was The Liberty of Saint Sepulchre, under the Archbishop of Dublin and the other was The Liberty of Thomas Court and Donore, belonging to Saint Thomas the Martyr.

The Liberties, as it is called, lies between those two jurisdictions.

It is in the centre of Dublin, between the River Liffey to the north, Saint Patrick's Cathedral to the east, Warrenmount to the south and Saint James Campus Hospital to the west.

A certain Patrick John Timothy Joseph Callahan, was young Finbar's father. He was born in the Liberties at the Coombe Maternity Hospital, and all those forenames was a common practice for Roman Catholics to bestow upon their off spring -- rather like members of the Royal Families and upper class rulers of Europe, but his names were not inherited from heroes and ancestors of the past but mostly saints.

Therefore Patrick, as a first name, or as they used to call it, the Christian name, John as a middle name, Timothy a baptism name and Joseph the confirmation name. 

Although by the time you get to Joseph, it would be quite obvious that this was a Roman Catholic.

He was the youngest child of a family of seven boys, and his eldest brother was twenty six years older so Patrick must have been an after thought, to his parents, and was such a big bundle that his darling mother died in the process.

His father, Joe, was also a seventh son, so Patrick was the healer, the curer or the layabout, who thought he had the gift to be able to lay his hand on an ailment, and make it disappear. The maladies he made disappear were probably, on their way out, in any case, but he would get the credit.

He didn't do very well at school and was following in his father's footsteps - as a bookie's runner.

Joe would also sell advertising space for the newspapers by calling on lots of businesses, in Dublin, which Patrick was trying in Clerys, a very fashionable department store, when Carmel Wilde walked into his life.

She lived in Dalkey, which is a salubrious suburb, or town, about ten miles south of Dublin.

Carmel Wilde would be described as Anglo-Irish  who were mostly protestant, and described by the working class, and the very loyal and committed republican, Brendan Behan, as Ireland's 'leisure class', and ingeniously described an Anglo-Irishman as a Protestant with a horse.

Carmel could, indeed, ride a horse as she had joined a local hunt when she was attending Kylemore Abbey School for girls, in Galway, and rode for pleasure in and around Dalkey.

In Clerys, Patrick had been following the man who was responsible for local advertising, who had wandered into the lingerie section of the Ladies clothing department in the great store, as soon as he saw Patrick enter the building.

The fact is he had been there a few times that week, and each time when the galoot saw him coming, would dodge into some door.

Patrick knew that selling advertising in those days was a long time between drinks, so his persistence was understandable.

Joe was in McDaids pub in Grafton Street waiting for Patrick to come and buy the drinks. He was sitting there with a thirst that would make a monk eat snow, looking at the door in the crowded pub with the barman looking at Joe Callahan, wondering if he was going to come up and settle his bar bill that day. He was reluctant to ask for more credit as a refusal would offend him.

Clerys advert had been published in the newspaper and the galoot who was avoiding him had taken the money from the petty cash, to pay Patrick, but had spent it at Bewley's Coffee shop, also in Grafton Street, when some young ladies, whom he knew from school - if you could call them ladies, as they looked like a bunch banshees in search of a death.

He wanted to cut a dash and splash the cash so Bewley's was the place. A very select place, Bewleys, and the young ladies were escorted from the building, by the manager, when it became clear they were adding a drop of mountain dew to their drinks.

That wasn't the only reason they were kicked out, but the fact that they were passing the drinks around and starting a hooley didn't impress anybody.

Joe looked at that door and thought to himself, and who else would he think to 'Where is that shite?'

Carmel was in Clerys to buy her favourite lingerie, which was from the French fashion house, Legaby and as Patrick looked around for the person he wanted he stepped back, as Carmel came out of the fitting room, and almost stepped on her “Sorry” he said.

He looked at her; she was younger, almost his size and he couldn't take his eyes off her, and stepping back, as he did, he had knocked the underwear, she was carrying, on to the floor. They both stooped to lift it up and Patrick was quicker; she stood up and he joined her then he gave her what she had dropped.

“Sorry” he said, again “I hope it's okay?”

She was as besotted with him as he was with her, but she almost snatched it from him, pulling the items to her chest.

It wasn't much, but each knew they were not finished.

Joe looked at the Gothic style windows of McDaids, knowing full well, that the place used to be The Dublin City Morgue, long before it was a pub - even being converted in to a chapel, at one time, and wondering if he would die of thirst and thinking if he did he would be in the right place.

Chapter 7

Bob-a-job.