The Callaghans Chapter 4

 

Chapter 4

Patrick didn't stay too long in Mulligans, just one more pint and he went home. There was a very tiny lane to the right of their house, which led straight into the yard, and he checked to see if Finn MacCool was okay; a custom he started that day which would last.

When he opened the back door he could hear that the piano was being played, but not the usual improvising of Joe, but something from Fats Waller, and when he got inside he could see it was Carmel playing – and playing very well too; Joe was seated in his usual chair and was lapping it up as Fats Waller, the American piano player and song writer, had died within the last year.

As soon as she saw Patrick, Carmel jumped up and smothered him in a huge hug. Then she pulled back, looked him in the eye, and filled his face with kisses.

He was blown away with such love and affection it was something he wasn't used to, never having a mother, although he really loved his granny, and it satisfied a kind of want somewhere deep down in his psyche, which surprised him.

'I just got your letter today' he said.

'Yes, Joe told me. I believe it was delayed because of the soldiers and Ike being there.'

'Ike?' said Patrick.

'Eisenhower – the American General who led the army into Normandy – someone told me they delayed the mail in case we were telling secrets about 'D' Day.'

'Did the post office do that?' said Joe.

'Well that's what someone said' said Carmel 'He didn't mention 'D' Day at all, I believe, but it did take a good few months to arrive.'

It seemed that Carmel's father was in Bangor with the military to offer some kind of support to the Protestants, even though Carmel reckoned it might have been to deter participation from the soldiers.

Patrick did wonder why she hadn't been in touch with him sooner but didn't like to ask. She had travelled down from Bangor by herself leaving her parents in Bangor who believed she would heading home.

Instead, she went to McDaids hoping to meet the Callaghans.

Joe had arranged for her to stay with them and had warmed up Patrick's bedroom for her and moved his stuff into his. That meant they share the bed which happened every time someone stayed over night.

Joe left them alone in the living room when he went to the kitchen to see to the dinner.

Being alone, at home, instilled a kind of shyness in Patrick and Carmel got the impression that he had gone off her or had found someone else.

He was always shy with regards to hugging and kissing let alone anything further. He had kissed and courted lots of local girls but never knew the right time to actually kiss Carmel. He might be at a dance which turned into a slow tune and he could turn that into a kiss and the odd time he went to the cinema with a pal they sat behind two promising girls and asked one of them to change places. It was an easy way to meet and the girls would know when two boys suddenly sat behind them that a tap on the shoulder was expected. Once in a while, after 'necking' they stood up in the hope that they were walking the girls home and one of the girls was a good bit taller.

One time when they got outside the boys made the excuse to go into a lavatory which they knew had a different exit. They were not surprised when they nipped out into the street and saw the girls had already left.

And here he was, alone, with someone he knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with and he couldn't decide what to do. Should he put his arm around her and kiss her? Maybe kiss her hand like his father had done the day he met her.

He wasn't pursuing any conversation with Carmel doing mostly listening and he knew if he dived in for a kiss he would probably coincide with her teeth.

Because of the war and the risks of travelling abroad, The Battle of the Atlantic was still at its height, so her parents didn't have the choice of sending Carmel abroad. Because they had banned her from seeing Patrick, they threatened that if she did get in touch with him they would report him to the Guard for supplying her with alcohol when she was under age. She didn't like to tell Patrick about it but now that she was eighteen she felt free.

'Did you know I have a horse?' said Patrick.

'Yes' said Carmel 'you told me all about it, how you worked at the stable and they gave you a horse.'

'That's right.'

'And his name is Finn MacCool.'

'Yes' and he laughed.

She stood up.

'Stand up' she said.

Patrick stood up.

'Now give me a hug.'

He did.

'Now give me a kiss on the cheek.'

He did.

'How did that feel?' she said.

A smile slowly came to his lips 'Grand' he said 'that was . . . grand.'

Then he kissed her again and this time it was a slower kiss which wasn't a kiss you'd give a baby or a mammy; but it was a kiss.

'Feel better now?'

'Yes.' he said.

'You galoot.'

And they kissed again.

'I was . . . I was thinking when I should kiss you and . . '

' . and you weren't listening to a thing I was saying.'

'I was I was!' he said but she didn't believe him.

'And what are youz two doing – dancing?' said Joe as he came into the room.

Joe was a dab hand at cooking having to feed the three boys since Patrick was born and they had a pleasant time eating and drinking bottles Guinness. Carmel didn't like it too much but swore she's get used to it. Over the next few days she had a few drinks of the draught Guinness and, like most people, preferred that.

The next time she went into McDaid's with them she showed her birth certificate to Oliver 'Look' she said 'I'm eighteen.'

'You didn't need to show me that' said Oliver 'not after you had the uisce beatha the last time.' and he winked.

Carmel stayed with the Callaghans for a week and they looked after Finn, as she called the horse, and she noticed there was a cigarette burns on the horse's neck.

Patrick told her what Joe had said about not reporting the stables, she didn't understand but accepted it. The marks of cruelty disappeared before she went back home but the scars never left Patrick's memory.

He got to know Calista and Mateus quite well and they invited him to dinner with Joe one evening. Joe was delighted to be able to sample the Indian food again, as it wasn't easy to buy the spices for Indian food in Dublin in those days. He brought with him a light beer as he knew of the Indian beer Kingfishers but couldn't find it in Dublin. When they arrived he saw that Mateus had Kingfishers.

'Where did you get that from?' he said.

'That would be telling' said Calista.

They had a wonderful time, great conversation, mainly about India and then Joe stood up and sang:

A sober black shawl hides her body entirely
Touched by the sun and the salt spray of the sea
But down in the darkness a slim hand so lovely
Carries a rich bunch of red roses for me
Her petticoat simple and her feet are but bare
And all that she has is but neat and scanty
But stars in the deep of her eyes are exclaiming
I carry a rich bunch of red roses for thee

No arrogant gem sits enthroned on her forehead
Or swings from a white ear for all men to see
But jewelled desire in a bosom so pearly
Carries a rich bunch of red roses for me.

The three of them clapped very loudly when he finished.

'Sean O'Casey.' he said.

Patrick hadn't heard it before and was surprised.

'It's a new song' said Joe.

'And you practised it at home – whilst I was out?'

'That's true' said Joe 'It's allowed.'

Patrick took an interest in Indian food and learned to cook from Calista with Mateus helping too. They were sent herbs and spices from London and one day Patrick perfected Mulligatawny soup and invited the Indian couple to their house to introduce it to Joe and Carmel.

She was introduced to them and they all got on very well.

'Maybe you should start your own restaurant' said Mateus ' introduce the Indian food to Dublin.'

Patrick laughed but he didn't take it seriously.

'I was looking for something for you so I went to that restaurant in Nassau Street.'

'Jammet's?' said Joe.

'Yes, that's right. I asked one of the fellas in there if they knew any Indian recipes.'

'But that's a French place' said Joe.

'Yes. I found that out when I went there.' said Patrick 'but the bloke had this' he pointed to the recipe book on the piano 'he said have a look at that – and I did.'

He showed the book to Calista.

'Mulligatawny soup looked the most Irish.' he said.

'It's not from the part of India where we're from,' said Mateus 'it's a Tamil recipe from Ceylon.'

'Maybe I should look at some of those books.' said Calista, laughing.

Patrick never knew if Carmel was coming to see him in Dublin with or without her parents' knowledge but the fact was she had a friend in Dalkey which is where she told them she was going.

There was a telephone at her home but not one at her friend Hazel's, who was at her school but not as a boarder. Neither she nor Hazel had progressed educationally since leaving school.

Hazel would use the same excuse to her parents as they were strict Methodists too. When they were at school, Carmel and Hazel knew a place in Dún Laoghaire where they could buy wine and take it to another friend of theirs, Aisling, whose parents went away a lot. They didn't get drunk, well not too drunk, whenever Aisling's parents were away but they had great gas.

They had a house to themselves. Carmel was the one who looked old enough to buy alcohol and the others bought food.

Like the French, the girls got used to wine at an early age: Hazel was the one who cooked the food and Aisling did little more than set the table. However, she was a great comedian and the life and soul of their secret rendezvouses; she wanted to be a professional comedian but it didn't happen.

When they were at school the three girls had a great time figuring out whose house they would choose. Carmel had to sneak out from school and as the others were day pupils they went out and met Carmel later who had to sneak out of her room. Right up to the age of sixteen she had to do that as if she was a prisoner which, in fact, she was.

The relationship blossomed between Carmel and Patrick over the next few months. Sometimes she would stay in his bedroom, Patrick in with Joe, and sometimes she would go home. They fell in love but neither let on. Many a time when they were to meet, and it was always under Clerys' clock, Carmel wondered if Patrick would say the magic words and he wondered if she might. They went to the cinema a lot, a new experience for him, their favourite picture being 'Casablanca' and they thought it was so good they didn't kiss and cuddle that night. Sometimes if they went for a drink they went to Mulligan's; she drank wine and he Guinness and when they got home to Joe's they stopped in the little alley way, which led to the yard, and had their kiss and cuddle there too.

When they hugged, and that was all the time, she whispered into his ear 'How do you feel about me?' and nearly every time he would say 'You know.'

In fact she did know and so did he; three little words I love you seemed so hard to say, but once they did utter them, they never stopped. The first time that actually did, she asked him to write down how he felt and said he would do it, if she did. He took a piece of paper and a pencil and went to sit at another table in Mulligan's.

She remained seated at the table in the corner and did the same.

The barman Gerry saw what they were doing and called his father across and said 'Look at those two; writing to each other.'

'Love's young dream.' said the father.

When they had written what they wanted to say, Patrick went back to Carmel's table with his piece of paper; he handed it to her. She took it and gave him her paper containing the pledge she had written. Neither of them opened the folded sheets.

'Are you going to open it?' she said.

'Are you?' said he.

'Yes' she said 'but you do it first.'

Gerry and his father could see what they were doing 'are they breaking up?' he said to his father.

'Not on your life' said the da.

Carmel and Patrick left the two pieces of folded paper on the table and looked into each other's eyes.

No movement towards their pledges.

'Do you know what a map is?' said Patrick.

Carmel didn't say anything but could see his mouth forming a half smile.

'It's a piece of land, drawn to scale on a piece of paper or parchment.'

He took a drink of his pint.

'Are you going to look at that paper?' he said.

'Are you?'

'I'm scared it might be a map.'

They both laughed.

She picked up the paper Patrick had handed her and went to the table she used.

Gerry's da said 'In the name of Jasus, what now?'

Gerry laughed.

She opened the paper and looked at Patrick who was looking at her with a worried look on his face. He had read the paper he was handed and it said Of course I love you my darling. I have waited all my life for you. I often wondered what you would look like and I am not disappointed – I love you x x.

The reason he had a worried look on his face was that he found it wonderful, everything he had wished for but all he had written to her was I love you. That's all she wanted. She came back to his table 'That's lovely' she said.

'I should have said more.'

'You said enough' she said and she kissed him fully on the lips.

Gerry put his hand on his father's shoulder and his other hand over his father's eyes.

'Get off, you bleedin' galoot' said da.

When Patrick ordered two more drinks for the road Gerry said 'On the house.'

When September came, Carmel enrolled at Trinity College, where she had walked with Patrick, many a time and, indeed he met her most days before she set off home. Her parents were not used to her going out in the mornings and, eventually, she took a room at the college. Quite a simple room with the head of the bed, under the window, which gave her a view of the college ground. She was told not to walk under the Campanile in the Front Square as superstition had that if the bell tolled, whilst you are beneath it, academic failure would ensue. Carmel wasn't superstitious at all but would never walk underneath.

She had the opportunity to greet tourists and show them around the library and introduce them to The Book of Kells which she had shown to Patrick on a previous occasion.

The tourists consisted of a lot of Americans, who spoke like films stars, and some of them were, indeed, film stars. Some of them wanted special treatment and wanted to be shown around individually and others would 'muck in' with everybody else. There were English stars too and the whole experience was good for Carmel as she liked chatting to people.

Patrick met her one day and she said, upon greeting him 'I have a little poem for you. Are you ready?'

'Go ahead' he said.

'One of the tourists said it today: Young men may loot, perjure and shoot, And even have carnal knowledge. But however depraved, their souls will be saved/ If they don't go to Trinity College.''

'If you DON'T go to Trinity College?'

'So you're saved – but you wouldn't be able to go there in any case.'

'Just not clever?'

'No' she said 'they don't admit catholics.'

'Just the prods?'

'Just the prods' she said.

Patrick carried on trying to introduce local shopkeepers to the world of advertising: the cinema on O'Connell Street and the one in Fairview to but found they already had contracts for advertising.

Carmel got on with her studies and met Patrick at the college gate most evenings. She came out once with a tall thin bespectacled Englishman called Nick Armstrong; in fact Patrick heard him before he saw them as he wore a air of brown brogues with metal heals. When Patrick greeted Carmel he said in a loud posh voice 'Ah! Who's this?'

'Patrick John Timothy Joseph Callaghan, at your service' he said.

Nick Armstrong, kind of looked down his nose and said 'Oh.'

He was in his forties, a lot older than his fellow students and was n Dublin for a year studying Anthropology.

As he walked on Carmel said 'He's invited us to his party on Saturday.'

'Me too?'

'Well he said bring your boy friend; I suppose you're my boy friend.'

Patrick shrugged.

'Where's this going to be?'

'Dollymount.'

On the night they went, Patrick told Joe that they were going to a hooley.

'It won't be a hooley.' said Carmel.

'What do you mean?' said Patrick.

'Wait and see.' she said.

They went to Dollymount on the bus, it wasn't very far, but being on the sea front it was a bit blowy, as they walked along looking for the house. When they found the number they heard singing from inside of a group of male voices.

The door was already open and they went in. There were quite a few people in the hallway and from the front room the singing could be heard.

Three students, one of them Nick Armstrong, were standing with their backs to the bay window singing the song, acappello and when Carmel and Patrick came into the room they were singing the last verse.

So let us fill a bumper

And drink a health to those

Who carry caps and pouches,

And wear the louped clouthes

May they and their comanders

Live happy all their years

Sing tow, row row row, row row row

For the British Grenadiers.

Then, very slowly.

With a tow, row row row, row row row

For the British Grenadiers.

Then the singers cheered.

Others in the room applauded.

Most of the people at the party were male students with maybe three or four females gathered talking in a group. There were a lot of smoke as quite a few were smoking.

The singers, when they mingled with others, were very loud, all talking at once.

Patrick didn't know the song and it was the first time he saw a group of English men together. He had met Nick Armstrong briefly with Carmel that time so, at least, his face was familiar. Both Carmel and he expected Nick to come over and talk but he didn't. He just carried on talking.

A girl of eighteen or so came to them 'Hello – I'm Annie – there is some punch in the kitchen if you'd like to try.'

'That'll be grand' said Patrick.

'Is this your house?' said Carmel.

'No. Nick rents it from one of his father's clients. Only in term time.'

They tried the punch but didn't think much of it.

'Not like your uisce beatha, is it?' said Carmel.

'Ah you found the hard stuff' said Nick Armstrong approaching them.

'Yes.' said Carmel.

'Mixed it ma self this morning.' said Nick 'what do you think?'

'Not for me.' said Patrick 'I liked your singing, but.'

'What?'

'I liked your singing.'

'Oh, . . . yes . . The British Grenadiers - yes we won the war - ah ha.'

'Game ball.'

'What?'

'Game ball - great.'

'I . . er, well I don't get all the lingo, I'm afraid, Paddy. We won the war without your help.'

'I was too young to sign up' said Patrick 'I'm not sure if I would have volunteered, though.'

'I didn't mean you, Paddy – I meant your country.'

'My two brothers, were away fighting.' said Patrick 'well one of them was, but the other was in the Home Guard. Did you go?'

'Go?'

'To war – did you go to war?

'I didn't go – but I was in service.'

'Service?'

'Yes' said Nick Armstrong 'back room boy, as it were.'

The trouble with Nick Armstrong and Paddy is they were not familiar with each other's accent; Nick understood Carmel okay as her accent was posh Irish and he was posh English. Even though he called Patrick, Paddy, as people would shorten Patrick to Paddy, Nick called all the Irish Paddy, and sometimes he was admonished for it and Patrick found him as interesting as a bowl of cold stodgy porridge.

One of the highlights of the party was a pile of lollipop sticks in a pile on a table that guests had to try and take one stick out of the pile one at a time without disturbing the rest. Patrick was bored to madness and Carmel was the same.

One more little thing from Nick, bless him, was that he had made some soup for the party which he called Irish Stew and a lot of it was poured down the lavatory at the end of the evening.

Carmel and Patrick decided to leave and walked along the strand.

Dollymount Strand was very popular for swimmers it had a great long beach and there were changing places, not rooms, which looked out into the Irish Sea; not exactly Martello Towers but a place to sit and get changed. They were stone buildings with no doors and Patrick remembered as a child swimming there with Joe. Swimmers left their togs on the seat and one day he saw a pair of man's under pants laying there displaying a brown stripe stain. 'Look at that da.' he said 'someone shite themselves.'

'Ah well.' said Joe 'that's understandable; you don't look at your arse when wiping it.'

Patrick remembered that as a lesson but now he was walking with his beloved in the cold October evening, seeking shelter in one of those buildings. It shielded them from the wind slightly and they got close together to keep each other warm.

As Carmel leaned into Paddy she felt the warmth from him and cuddled up and they started to kiss and then things started to rumble in his body and a comfortable sensation erupted in hers and before they knew it, things were happening they hadn't planned for.

'I'm cold' she said 'let's go back to my room.'

They took the bus back to Trinity College and he managed to walk through the archway without raising alarm from the security guard and went with her up to her room. He stopped outside and gave her a kiss goodnight. He was about to go when she pulled him back by his arm and ushered him inside.