ii

‘I don't mind where anyone goes tonight or what anyone does,' Mrs Lacey said, ‘as long as everyone is ready by twelve o'clock mass tomorrow. We will leave here in a body at twenty-five minutes past eleven.'

‘Would it not be better if one of us drove you?' Jack asked.

‘I have these lovely grandsons here, two from England and one from America, and a lovely granddaughter. I will lean on them if I need to.'

Eilis looked around the table, whose leaves had been pulled out to accommodate the new arrivals – Jack and Pat, who had crossed from Fishguard in Jack's car with Jack's son Dominick and Pat's son Aidan.

Her two brothers who lived in England were close in age. They had once looked alike, but the difference between them now was, she noticed, extraordinary. Jack was in an expensive suit. He looked around the table, smiling. He was perfectly shaved, his silver hair neat. Pat, on the other hand, needed a haircut and a shave. He smiled nervously. He seemed to be in pain as he stood up from the table. His shoe laces were torn and frayed.

Eilis knew that Pat worked in a warehouse. He had five children. Aidan was the eldest. It had been agreed, Martin told her, that both brothers would bring their eldest sons for their mother's eightieth birthday.

‘And how did Jack make so much money?' she had asked Martin.

‘He saw something that no one else saw,' Martin said. ‘He saw the value of reliable union labour. If you wanted a stretch of motorway built by a certain time, Jack was one of the people you went to. It cost more, but he could deliver by the date agreed. He had the union bosses on his side. Some people said it was an Irish thing but it wasn't really.'

Eilis had never heard Martin talk for so long and make so much sense. She noted how animated he became in his brothers' presence, but she saw also how Jack turned away from him if Martin tried to get his attention. Pat hardly spoke at all.

Larry complained to her about his cousins.

‘They keep talking about football. But they mean English football. I've never heard of any of their clubs. They've never even been at a hurling match.'

‘Maybe you could introduce them to some of your friends,' Eilis said.

‘I thought they were going to be Irish, but they're not.'

‘And what do you talk to them about?'

‘I don't get a chance to talk.'

He did an imitation of their English accents that made Eilis laugh.

Jack and Pat and their sons were staying at Murphy Flood's Hotel at the bottom of Main Street. Eilis watched Martin trying to find out in what pub they intended to spend the evening.

‘I hate all that "Are you home for long?" business,' Jack said. ‘And I don't want to meet any old timers.'

‘But there will be fellows looking forward to meeting you,' Martin said.

‘How do they know I'm home?'

‘Sure, everyone knows everything.'

‘Well, that's what I'm going to avoid.'

‘We'll be in Larkin's maybe,' Pat said, ‘and we could go to Stamp's and we'll look in to Jim Farrell's and then we'll end in the bar of Murphy Flood's.'

‘I'm glad their wives didn't come,' Mrs Lacey said when her sons and grandsons had gone out. ‘At least we have that to thank God for.'

‘Why, Granny?' Rosella asked.

‘Because they'd leave them here while they went to the pub and we'd have to talk to them for the whole evening. I don't mind Betty so much, she's English, but it's Eileen who adds years to me. She has put on an English accent, if you don't mind, and she's from the west of Ireland. Jack met her at a dance.'

‘Is there something wrong with that?' Eilis asked.

‘Well, in my day, you could meet someone at a dance who you already knew. But you wouldn't meet a stranger at a dance, or at least I wouldn't. You might have one dance with him and then you'd go back to your own group.'

‘That's how I met Tony, at a dance,' Eilis said.

‘Yes, but that was in America.'

—

In the morning, having gathered in Court Street, they set out for the cathedral.

‘No straggling and no smoking,' Mrs Lacey ordered as she made sure that the front door of the house was closed. ‘I want Rosella on one side of me and Dominick on the other. The rest of you can walk behind. Larry, would you fasten the top button of your shirt and straighten your tie, like a good man.'

They had been up late, the men, and they were, Eilis saw, subdued. Her efforts to discover whom they had met and what pubs they had visited were met with shrugs and sighs.

Her mother proceeded slowly. She was wearing a light green outfit with a silk blouse. She had on her good black shoes and a stylish grey hat.

At the corner of Weafer Street, a man appeared who had been drinking with Jack and Pat and Martin the previous night.

‘Well, missus,' he said to Mrs Lacey, ‘you should have witnessed the scene in Jim Farrell's last night, the three wise men and their three wise sons, all home for your birthday.'

Larry looked at Eilis, as if she should set the man straight that he was not Martin's son.

They arrived in the cathedral early enough to find good places close to the pulpit. While the others fidgeted and looked around them, and while Pat went outside to smoke, her mother and Rosella stared straight ahead, dignified and distant.

Eilis had no idea whether Jim usually went to eleven or twelve o'clock mass. As they had made slow progress up Main Street, it had struck her that they could easily meet him. Or he could come into the church, finding a place towards the back, as men on their own usually did. When time for communion came, he would see them, as he had seen the brothers and the boys in his pub the previous evening.

—

Eilis knew she should phone Jim as she had promised to do, but there were too many questions she could not answer. If Jim were really to come to America, when would he come? And when she herself went back, as she would do soon, where would she live? If she arrived at the airport with the children, what would she say to Tony? If she arrived a few days later, where would she go? Would she let Tony collect her? Take her home? Encourage life to go back to normal except for the arrival of a baby and the possible appearance of Jim Farrell?

She could, on returning, with the rest of the money Frank had given her, find lodgings somewhere for a while. But when would she see the children? And under what circumstances?

They should never have lived so close to Tony's family. That was the first mistake. If they had their own house away from the others, she could ask Tony to leave. Perhaps she could still do that, though he would simply move in with his parents and she would have to see him every day. But Rosella and Larry would see him too and that would be an advantage.

How would she break the news to Rosella and Larry that Jim Farrell might be following her to America, that, despite the years that had passed, she wanted to be with him?

Pat came back just before the priest appeared at the altar.

‘Granny says it's Father Walsh,' Rosella whispered. ‘And he's her favourite.'

Her mother, Eilis thought, must have come here every Sunday on her own, one of the many widows who liked to sit in the same pew each time, or who always went early to communion, or who stayed behind to avoid the crush of mass-goers eager to get out into the air.

Rosella, she thought as the mass began, would need help settling into Fordham. She would also need new clothes. Eilis would accompany her to her accommodation. Tony would want to come as well and Rosella would need him there. And Eilis would have to keep in contact with her over the first few weeks and be there if she returned home for a weekend. And Larry was drifting at school. If Eilis didn't pay attention, he would, she was sure, in Rosella's absence, find excuses to do even less work.

She had promised herself that she would help Larry with his maths and his English and perhaps some of his other subjects, sit with him each evening doing the same homework as he did. Mr Dakessian had, he told her, done that with Erik.

‘Did Erik not mind?' she had asked.

‘Mind? He went crazy. But I didn't give up. And he enjoyed it when I knew less than he did, although I was just putting on a show. He thought I was an idiot. And our relationship has been perfect ever since. I only wish that my own dad had done this!'

She would have to make amends to Mr Dakessian for being away so long. There would be a backlog of work.

It occurred to Eilis that if she stopped thinking about herself and what she wanted, then everything would fall into place, at least over the next few months. She would consider Rosella and her needs and then Larry, and then her job at Mr Dakessian's. And she would concentrate on these three things. As long as the baby was not physically carried into her house, then she would not think about it. And she would be polite to Tony and do her best with him because that was what the children would want.

The thought of herself as suddenly altruistic and concerned only with the welfare of others, the same person who, not long before, had spent a night in a hotel with Jim Farrell, made her smile.

What would she say to Jim? It would be easy to tell him that she needed more time. How would he respond to that? In the hotel, he had told her that he had to know, as if it was somehow urgent. The idea that he would come to New York, or even to Long Island, was fraught with difficulty. Perhaps in some months' time she would have a better idea what they could do.

She would have to ask him to wait. She thought of coming back to Enniscorthy next summer, but she would hardly have the money for the trip. And perhaps the same uncertainties would be there.

She would have to be decisive. Since she did not want Jim to come to America now and join her, then she would have to tell him. She would arrange one meeting with him. It would be difficult. And then she would change her ticket, if she could, and travel back on the same flight as Rosella and Larry.

When the lines formed for communion, Eilis looked to her mother who signalled that she wanted to wait. Just as the line was shortening, she noticed her mother making a sign to Jack at the end of the pew. He stood up and the entire family walked up the aisle to the altar, Eilis's mother flanked by Rosella and Dominick. It was not the waiting that mattered, Eilis saw, or the kneeling at the altar rails to take the host. It was the turning and the walking back, the large congregation all watching them – Mrs Lacey, her sons, her daughter, her grandchildren all home for her eightieth birthday. Eilis realised that her mother had planned this moment, knowing the right time to step out into the aisle and how to walk back to her place as though no one was looking at her.

Later, as the others were in the back room, the men preparing to go out again, Rosella found her in the kitchen and suggested they go upstairs.

‘Larry says that Jack owns this house, he owns Martin's house in Cush as well and he owns Pat's house in Bolton.'

‘How does Larry know?'

‘Jack told him.'

‘Did Larry tell Jack anything in return?'

‘I'm not responsible for what Larry says.'

—

The next morning, the day before her mother's birthday, Jack found Eilis alone. He closed the door solemnly. Eilis presumed he wanted to discuss their mother's welfare in a house with too many stairs.

‘I'm a bit worried about you,' he said, ‘and wanted to talk it through.'

‘You've been going around the pubs with Larry.'

‘I thought your husband and his brothers had a big business and I thought it was all good in Long Island.'

‘Enough for you to visit? I was always hoping you'd come.'

‘I'd like to some time. I often wonder what would have happened had I gone to the States instead of Birmingham. I might own a corner shop.'

‘I expect you'd be even richer than you are now.'

‘Larry says you are going to leave his father.'

‘I'm sure that's not what he said.'

‘If you would accept, I could help you. I could buy you a house of your own, for example. It would make you independent.'

‘Like you did for the others?'

‘I still own Pat's house and Martin's house only because I don't want to give them the chance to sell. I'm offering you something with no strings attached.'

‘You are offering to buy me a house? Are you serious?'

‘I don't make idle offers.'

‘You sound like a businessman!'

‘Why don't you just say yes?'

‘It's very generous of you.'

‘Are you saying yes?'

‘I am a bit surprised. But it would make a difference if I had my own house.'

‘Good. I'm glad there's someone decisive in the family. It took a while to get Mammy to come round to the plan to buy the house from her. But you probably know all that.'

‘I know very little. She barely replied to my letters.'

‘You didn't write much though, did you?'

‘I wrote once a month. I never failed.'

‘Maybe she didn't get the letters?'

‘Of course she got them! She has all the photographs I sent.'

‘It's hard to know what to make of her sometimes. But anyway, the offer is there. Just say when and it will all be put in train. Larry told me about prices and property so I know what I need to know.'

‘Larry is sixteen.'

‘He's smart. I can't think where he got it from. Maybe from all those Italians.'

—

‘I don't,' Mrs Lacey said, ‘want every so-and-so coming to this house to view me like it was my wake.'

‘I will look after the door,' Jack said.

In the morning, some of the neighbours came to wish Mrs Lacey a happy birthday. They talked about the town and how the summer had been so far. As Eilis stood in the doorway, she listened as they tried to find out from her mother how much longer she was staying.

‘I thought she was just coming for a week or two,' one of them said.

‘The whole summer,' another commented, ‘isn't she lucky she can get away?'

‘And to keep that car for so long. It must cost the earth.'

‘That's America for you. I heard someone saying it on the radio. The dollar is king.'

When more people came in the afternoon, Jack said it might be best to begin turning well-wishers away, but his mother demurred.

‘You could end up turning away my best friend.'

‘Who is your best friend, Granny?' Larry asked.

‘Oh now, Larry, that's a tale not for telling.'

Towards six, Nancy Sheridan came to wish Mrs Lacey a happy birthday. She was, Eilis thought, at her most friendly.

‘Is that your car outside?' she asked. ‘I'd say renting a car like that cost a pretty penny.'

Eilis regretted that she had not moved the car to another parking spot.

‘I got a good deal on it,' she said.

Since the back room was crowded, Nancy followed Eilis into the kitchen so they could talk.

‘It's a happy day for everyone,' Nancy said. ‘Larry has been telling me about all the preparations. It's great that himself and Gerard have become friends. I saw you all in the cathedral on Sunday and what a fine sight you were. It's lovely seeing the next generation. But it's sad that they will never have known your father and Rose. I feel the same about Miriam's husband. I would love for him to have known George.'

For a second, Eilis wished she were back in her own sitting room in Lindenhurst, reading the newspaper, the house empty.

‘It must be marvellous, America,' Nancy said. ‘Maybe not all of it, but New York, and Laura worked two summers ago in Maine. I was so worried about all the crime but she said there was no crime at all in Maine.'

‘Yes,' Eilis said, ‘Maine can be quiet.'

‘It's funny, she'd never laid eyes on an oyster before she went there. We just don't eat them here. She spent the summer cutting open the shells. But she was well paid for it. Especially the tips.'

‘Laura looked lovely at the wedding.'

‘It would be great to go to America some time. We might be able to go on a trip next year or the year after.'

‘You and Laura?'

Nancy hesitated for a moment.

‘I don't know who I would go with.'

‘Well, you would be very welcome. We'd love to see you.'

—

Once the birthday was over and Jack and Pat and their sons had returned home, the others went back to their routines, Rosella going to the shops each morning with her grandmother, Larry seeing his friends and going to the pubs, Eilis driving her mother and her daughter to nearby towns and villages each afternoon.

Rosella, she felt, was watching her, looking for some sign, but Eilis was waiting, planning to contact Jim to say that she was going back with the children, but still postponing it each day.

—

In the mornings early, a sliver of sunlight came into the room where Eilis slept and slid across the bed where she lay awake. She knew it was eight o'clock when she heard the postman.

One day, when she heard post coming through the door, she got up and went to see what it was. It was a large envelope with many stamps, with airmail written several times in big letters. It was addressed to Rosella, sent by Francesca.

Eilis took it with her into the room and closed the door. She examined the tape and saw that if she opened the envelope carefully, using a thin knife on the lip that was glued, she would be able to close it up again without leaving any evidence that the envelope had been tampered with.

She went quietly to the kitchen and found the type of knife she was looking for. Back in her room, she managed to open the envelope without making a tear.

Inside was a letter and something held by tape between two pieces of cardboard. When she pulled back the tape and saw the photograph, she put it aside immediately. She unfolded the letter.

Darling Rosella, it began.

I have great news and I am sure you will be delighted. Your little sister was born two days ago. She is healthy and happy and beautiful. Just now, I have to send all your cousins away because they want to spend time holding her, as we all do. She will be called Helen Frances, Frances after her grandmother, yours truly, and Helen after your grandfather's mother. Your father is besotted with her and your grandfather has not stopped smiling since little Helen came into the house. He is already talking to her in Italian. I got the film developed extra fast because I knew you would want to see her. How lucky she is, I told her, to have a sister like you! (And you'll be glad to know I said this in English!) I hope you are having a great time in Ireland. And we are longing to see you when you are back, and that, of course, includes little Helen Frances.

The handwriting was not Francesca's. It was Frank's. The image of them both working together to lure Rosella towards them made Eilis want to tear the letter in two.

She looked at the photograph. The baby was alert, having been put sitting on someone's lap. When Eilis examined the picture more closely, she saw that the hand on the baby's stomach holding her in place was Tony's. If the photograph extended to a fuller frame, it would show Tony too and no doubt he would be smiling, as the photographer would be smiling, as his mother and Frank must have smiled as they wrote the letter. She studied Tony's hand again. How delicate his hands were! His position in the photograph was one she knew because that was precisely how he had often held Rosella and Larry. If she went into the back room, she would find photographs that showed him sitting just like that, with the baby held in the same way.

She winced at the thought that in all the years married to him she had woken in the morning, or often in the night, and reached out for Tony's hand, finding comfort from touching it.

She put the photograph and the envelope and letter into her suitcase.

Martin was in the kitchen.

‘Are you going back to Cush today?' she asked him.

‘No. I have things to do here. There's a friendly match in Bellefield that Larry and me are going to go to.'

‘Can I have the key to your house?'

‘It's under the mat.'

The stuck coin, she discovered, had been removed from the slot in the phone box at Parnell Avenue. She had to call a few times before Jim answered the phone. He must have been asleep, but when she asked him if he could meet her in one hour at Martin's house in Cush, he sounded wide awake. He said that he would see her there.