The Callaghans Chapter 8

Chapter 8

The summer evenings in Saint Stephen's Green, with Carmel, were very pleasurable for Patrick. He had never known such love. They laid face downwards on the grass, staring at the scene ahead: he with the inevitable piece of grass in his mouth to chew and suck, which filled Carmel with delight, as she knew he thought he was some kind of cowboy: she with her belly too big to lie directly on the grass, was resting it on Patrick to ease the strain.

'I was told there were deer here' she said.

'So I believe' said Patrick 'and I know one or two people who have seen them.'

She laughed.

'Or say they have seen them' he added.

They talked of their plans for the future and how they missed Mateus and Calista. They wondered about it and what she would do about her studies after she had the baby. They talked of marriage – their mixed marriage – and how hard it would be: first they had to register with the Register Office at least three months ahead of time, then Banns had to be read in each of their parishes, and lastly they didn't want to go anywhere near the authorities in fear of the laundries.

Neither of them really believed the stories about the laundries, they thought all the talk were urban myths. But they wanted to get married before the birth, in any case, as most people did.

'I'd be the proudest man in Dublin if you walked up the aisle to join me in Fairview Church, so I would.' said Patrick, as he saw other couples getting up from the grass, to leave the green and get on with their evenings.

'Why Fairview Church?' said Carmel.

'That's where Joe and Mary were married – maybe a year before he went away to war.' he replied.

The war was over - the second one - the atom bombs were soon to be dropped on Japan and the soldiers' uniforms, so easily seen in Stephen's Green over the years, were a rare site. He noticed a sergeant walking his wife out from a place which, to the birds, looked like a maize - even though maizes were never a problem for birds.

The sun was being gently covered by some white clouds which looked as if they would never dream of spilling rain on them, and as he looked he felt his eye lids getting heavy. She could see corporation workers passing through the park, carrying their large yard brooms over their shoulders, as if they were rifles, proudly marching passed them, as it was a privilege to work for the Dublin Corporation.

'Come on you' Carmel said 'you can't be going to sleep there.'

He jumped up on to his feet and stretched to his full height with his arms and legs spread, like Leonardo's picture of Vitruvian

Man, and let out a long sigh. Then he turned around and helped her to her feet. She brushed the grass from his shoulders and slipped her arm around his waste. As they walked she felt a few twinges in her belly 'Woo!' she said.

'Is it time?'

'No.' she chuckled.

Joe had made the bed up for her and put Patrick's pyjamas under the pillow in his room. Some nights he slept next to Joe and other times they went head to toe. This meant waking up in the morning with a foot in your face. The pyjamas were always under a top pillow.

Carmel was tired when they got back. The emergency kit was at Theresa O'Brien's house in Annesley Avenue as lots of expectant mothers gave birth at home and as Carmel's home was officially in Dún Laoghaire that wasn't practical.

Theresa hadn't nursed for years but she was fully prepared for Carmel.

Joe was trying a tune out on the piano when they arrived. It was The Maiden's Prayer, a piece Mary, Patrick's mother often played. She liked to play it as it had a crossed hands section which always looked flashy. Joe was playing by ear as he couldn't read music and when Carmel came in she recognised it straight away.

'The Maiden's Prayer' she said as she came in.

'That's right' said Joe 'Mary used to play it – reminds me of her.'

Carmel went to the piano 'Here, look at this' she said, as she played the keys 'it's this little bit here you're missing.'

'Ah that's right' said Joe, with a tiny tear in his voice 'Mary loved it. If we went to a hooley everybody would call for Mary, and she would play it.'

'Now you know that bit.'

'You play it' said Joe 'please.'

Carmel sat down on the piano stool and played The Maiden's Prayer. Joe sat near the fireplace and reminisced about Mary, picturing her sitting at the piano, where Carmel was now. Mary played right up to the day she died. He could picture the kiss curls she had on her forehead and her dainty fingers tripping over the keys. Carmel had a similar style to Mary.

When she had finished, Patrick went into the yard to see if Finn MacCool was settled in. He had never heard his mother play the piano, of course, let alone The Maiden's Prayer, but he had heard Joe attempt it a few times and this evening he heard the full piece of music for the first time. Patrick didn't know the history of the music or where it came from as he sat there looking arund their yard with Graymalkin's grave still prominent. He didn't know the full story of his father's cat and never knew that spot out back with the little tent over its spot.

When he went back inside to see Carmel standing up by the piano, leaning against in fact, clutching her stomach as if she had the stitch. 'What is it?' he said.

'Dear oh dear!' said Carmel.

'She suddenly went dizzy and held on to the piano to steady herself.' said Joe as he was leading Carmel to the sofa.

'Have you started?' said Patrick.

'I don't know.' said Carmel, then she doubled over in pain 'Oh, oh, oh dear!' she said and she collapsed on to the sofa.

'Have my waters broken?' she said.

'What?' said Patrick 'what do you mean?'

'Her waters!!' said Joe, looking at Carmel's feet 'It's blood.'

Carmel screamed in pain.

'We need to get Theresa – get Theresa Pat.' said Joe, steadying Carmel.

'We're supposed to be going over there when it's time.' said Patrick.

'GO!!! Take Finn and ride over there. Bring her back.'

There was nothing else they could do. The closest pay phone, the closest hospital, police station – the closest help hadn't been thought about. They thought they could go around to ex nurse Theresa's in Ballybough when the time came and the time was here and now and Patrick headed off.

He left Joe to look after Carmel, pulled Finn out of the 'Nancy Hutch,' got on to the back of the horse and rode to Ballybough. No saddle no reins no nothing!!

Joe lay Carmel out and got some wet towels to cool her head but she was in pain, she was in labour and she was bleeding – he didn't know what to do it was too late to incriminate himself for not doing these things in advance. Like Carmel and Patrick he was worried about the laundries, the wedding, the authorities finding out, and what he could do.

The blood was more than dripping and Carmel told him to take her knickers down and lift her skirt so she could see what was happening, she could feel what was happening and to see wouldn't be any help at all but she wanted to see in any case.

'I can't do that.' said Joe.

'Pull them down, take them off for Christ's sake.' she roared.

He did.

It was just about sunset when Patrick reached Theresa's house, only a matter of ten or fifteen minutes, when one minute was the most precious and valuable thing they had between them.

'You'll have to get on the back of my horse' said Patrick.

'I will in me hole' said Theresa 'I'm taking my bike.'

She had a special bag she was keeping handy for Carmel and she gave it to Patrick to take back to The Coombe, where they lived. It was over three miles and Patrick galloped away in the silent streets, clippity clop – clippity clop, echoing and pounding through the streets.

Theresa got on the bike, as if she was still a midwife, on with the uniform, which had been readily pressed and in the drawer since the day she 'retired,' and on the road a different way, a quicker way than a horse or anything else. She felt the wind in her wind hardened face as she pedalled away and when she got to the house, she went up the yard to the side of the place and heard Patrick approaching.

In they both went but Patrick, with tears streaming down his face, hesitated by the door. Theresa saw the state he was in and, knowing what she was about to find, and fearing the worst, told him to stay outside, put the horse away and not to worry. He did as he was told and Theresa went in and the first thing she saw was the blood.

'Thank God you're here.' said Joe.

There was nothing Patrick could do apart from put the horse away and make sure he was comfortable.

A few minutes later Theresa came out.

'Where's the wheelbarrow?' she said. Patrick pointed at it.

'Right – get the stuff out of it – the lot.'

'It's never been used.' he said.

'Don't mind that now – go into Joe's bedroom and get every thing off the bed – the pillows, the eiderdown - everything and dump them into the wheel barrow. Then get all the clean sheets and put them on top – the clean sheets last – we're taking Carmel round to the hospital.'

'What about the baby?'

'Just do what you're told; there are times in life when you should never ask why.'

Patrick did what he was told. He didn't have to go into the living room to get to Joe's bedroom and he collected all the clothes from his bed. He knew where the clean sheets were and when he was going back out Theresa and Joe were helping Carmel out.

'Put the sheets on top.'

'Where?' Patrick said.

'The wheelbarrow' both Theresa and Joe said.

Patrick did this and he could see how distressed Carmel was. She was wrapped in many towels and he could see the blood congealed on them. He helped them put Carmel into the wheelbarrow.

'Now you are going to push her around to the hospital' said Theresa. 'I'm coming with you and your father is staying to clean up the mess.'

That is what happened.

The whole business nearly killed Carmel. Joe thought it was a repeat of what happened to his Mary as he cleaned up the mess; the mess he would never forget.

Little Finbar was born: Finbar John Timothy Joseph Callaghan. 

  ©2024 Chris Sullivan