Firefly Summer (52 page)

The cake was to have thirty candles, and it was a surprise. Kate had asked Marian Johnson, who knew all kinds of people, to recommend a firm that would deliver a cake already iced.

Marian had been very cooperative and even got something off the price because she knew the people who owned the firm.

Kate thought it was sad to see Marian boasting of all the connections she had and the people she knew socially. It was not at all the way to make Patrick O’Neill think
more warmly of her. Patrick needed someone like Rachel. How blind and stupid he was not to realise it. How insensitive he was to write her a note every three months or so just at the exact moment when she was making a resolve to forget him and get on with her own life.

Rachel had sent the twins magnificent shirts for their birthday. Michael’s was black and red, Dara’s was silver and white.

Kate had encouraged Dara to buy a white pleated skirt. But not directly. She had just left a magazine about, and let enough hints fall without saying she thought it was nice. Grace as usual did the persuading. She said she thought the skirt looked fabulous and when Dara got her birthday money in advance of the day she went into the big town and bought it.

They were dressed and nervous, ages before people came. Michael was handsome in the unusual colours, Dara dazzling, Kate thought, in the shimmering silver and white. Her eyes were huge and dark, her hair shone like satin. Kate looked at them proudly.

‘I hope it will be a night you’ll always remember,’ she said, trying to keep the choking emotion out of her voice.

‘I wish you were able . . .’ Michael began.

‘To be able to run in and out a bit,’ Dara finished.

Kate brushed the tear away quickly and decided to be very non-sentimental. ‘Not at all, that’s the last thing you’d wish. If I had to come in and upset the proceedings you’d hear this old chair a mile away. It will be great altogether, the place outside looks like a palace. Your father will go in from time to time to make sure you have enough of everything.’

The twins nodded. That was understood. Their father
would be calling in to make sure there wasn’t too much of everything, that’s what was really meant.

It was awkward in the beginning, because these were people they saw every day. The girls were at school together in the convent, the boys in the brothers’, they knew each other from Fernscourt in the old days, some of them from the bridge, and some from the raft, Coyne’s wood or just around the town. They saw each other a dozen times a week, in the cinema, on their bicycles. They were suddenly ill at ease in their finery in a room hung with hollowed-out shells holding lights.

The conversations began and died.

Apart from Grace O’Neill: she seemed not to notice any little silences or shyness, her laughter pealed, she begged for crisps, and more fizzy orange. She praised the room over and over, she admired the girls’ dresses, and said that she was just dying to dance. Could they get some music started? And arm in arm with Maggie, who looked nervous in a pink dress with a thousand polka dots on it, she rummaged through the records, exclaiming over them even though they were her own. In no time the party had started.

Eddie, patrolling, would stop wistfully and lift his sunglasses to watch the dancing inside what used to be the old shed. It was full of mystery and enchantment tonight, but Eddie could never pause too long. Leopold would look up thoughtfully at the sky and Eddie knew that an unmerciful baying was about to begin, so the dog had to be hastened away to the river bank until the wish to howl at the stars had passed.

Tommy Leonard told Dara that she looked beautiful.

‘That’s the only word for it,’ he said, anxious that there should be no misunderstandings. ‘It’s not just pretty, or nice, it’s beautiful.’

‘Thank you, Tommy, you look great yourself,’ Dara said, pleased.

‘No, it’s not just a question of looking well or not looking well. This is a description of what you
are
. Beautiful.’

Poor Tommy was bursting with eagerness to make it clear that this was no ordinary exchange of pleasantries. But Dara wasn’t really listening. She was looking at the door.

Kerry O’Neill had sent a note saying that if he was able to make it he would very much like to attend the party.

The note had been addressed to both of them.

Grace had said that Kerry was very unpredictable. He had left school, had got six Honours in his Leaving Certificate, and he was about to start work in a hotel in Donegal. Father had thought the best way for Kerry to learn the business of running a hotel was to start in someone else’s. Nobody knew when he would be off.

Grace hoped it wouldn’t be before the party, but with Kerry she said you never knew.

Dara hadn’t wanted to keep asking. It looked so babyish.

Maggie wondered if her dress clashed with her hair. Pink and polka dots would not have been her choice but this was a dress which had never fitted Kitty properly and was therefore pronounced almost new in the Daly family. Maggie had brought it to Miss Hayes over in the lodge and Miss Hayes had trimmed it with a red ribbon and
assured Maggie that all girls with red in their hair wore this colour now.

Maggie danced with Liam White a lot at the party. Liam said that Maggie was easier to dance with than the others because she was smaller than normal girls and there wasn’t the same danger of being knocked down by her doing rock and roll. Maggie thought this was a mixed compliment, but at least it did mean she was being asked out into the centre of the floor a lot.

Jacinta White asked Tommy Leonard did he intend to dance with the hostess all night, because there was a good variety of other partners around.

Michael realised that as host he must dance with everyone, but his head turned from time to time to watch Grace as she whirled with her golden curls tied in a huge black velvet bow, and her head thrown back laughing. Grace was so alive and so beautiful. He would love to have danced with her all night, but he knew he couldn’t. He went over to Maggie Daly who looked very nice. Maggie was talking to Liam by the record player.

‘Will you dance?’ he asked her.

‘Who, me? Are you sure?’ Maggie looked startled.

Michael was annoyed. He was only asking her to dance, for heaven’s sake, why did she have to look as if it were some huge thing and she wasn’t worthy of it?

John looked in on the pretence that they might need more minerals from the bar. He sneaked back and reported to Kate that all seemed to be under control.

‘Nobody smoking, no one with a bottle of brandy under the table, and they all have their clothes on,’ he said.

‘My God, what a terribly dull party!’ Kate exclaimed
jokingly, and the two of them smiled at each other in the bar. He touched her face suddenly and she held his hand to her cheek.

Brian Doyle at the counter saw it and wondered if all that sort of thing had gone by the board for the Ryans. He presumed it had. You couldn’t get up on an unfortunate woman who had all those injuries, could you. It was a terrible thing to happen to them. But still, Brian brightened, they were in their forties after all, they’d probably given all that sort of thing up long ago. Brian was thirty-four with a girlfriend in the town who was going to pack her bags and move off to another town if he didn’t make a move one way or another. He put the idea out of his mind and ordered another pint.

Carrie wanted to know should she serve the sausages and Mary said give them a bit more time yet.

Mary kept a weather eye out for Leopold and Eddie. She could see why the twins had resisted having their brother around, but she wanted to make sure that Eddie didn’t tie Leopold to some far-off tree and forget him. The animal wasn’t used to being taken on such heavy walks with the lead.

When Mary saw them pass again, she made signs and invited Eddie to join her in the kitchen.

‘What’s it about?’ Eddie was suspicious.

‘I thought you and Leopold and I might have a sausage or two ourselves before the rush starts, what do you think?’

Eddie thought it was great. Carrie served them all and brought a big bottle of tomato ketchup as well, which was more than the people outside at the party would have.

Jimbo joined them for a few moments and gave Carrie’s ear a nuzzle.

‘Enough of that, Jimbo,’ Mary said firmly.

‘It’s only a bit of affection,’ Jimbo said.

‘It’s roguery and trickery and what’s more it’s unhygienic in a place where food’s being prepared,’ Mary said.

‘All right.’ Jimbo was good-natured.

Eddie was given another sausage to reward him for his hard work patrolling.

‘What are you patrolling?’ Jimbo asked.

Eddie was at a loss. He didn’t rightly know.

‘What is it exactly?’ he asked Mary.

‘Anyone knows you have to patrol at a function,’ Mary said.

‘Will there be patrolling across the river when the hotel starts?’ Jimbo asked.

‘Bound to be,’ said Mary.

‘Maybe I should get in quick and apply for it.’

Eddie smiled to himself. It
was
a real job, he had been afraid it might have been Dara and Michael making something up to keep him out of the way.

Kerry was the last to arrive. Dara was the first to see him; she tried to stop herself running to the door, but she got there very speedily all the same.

Kerry looked wonderful. He wore a pale blue shirt with dark blue stitching all over it, it was like the kind of thing a cowboy might wear. He carried two packages, one he left by the record player, one he gave straight to Dara.

‘Happy birthday, princess,’ he said.

‘Why do you call me that?’ It was what Mary Donnelly called Grace when she was speaking disparagingly.

‘All beautiful girls are princesses on their birthdays, and you more than most.’ He smiled at her warmly.

Dara got that breathless feeling as if she had been running.

‘Will I open it?’

‘If you like.’

She was almost afraid to lose him by struggling with the wrapping paper too long, and yet it would be terrible to rip it off.

She managed to open it, and he was still standing there. It was a beautiful hair clip with a big red rose attached. If you wore it, it would look as if there was a rose in your hair. Dara looked at it in delight.

‘I must put it on, I’ll go to a mirror and see what I’m doing.’

‘Don’t run away. Here, I’ll put it on for you.’ He lifted the thick dark hair and slid the grip with its big silk rose into place. He had drawn the hair right back from her face on that one side, it gave her a faintly gypsyish look.

‘Is it nice?’ Dara asked eagerly.

‘It’s quite lovely,’ Kerry said.

At that moment the record player began to play a slower number, ‘Michelle’. Without asking her or breaking the mood, Kerry’s arms went straight around Dara and they were dancing.

Dara looked around her and sighed with pure pleasure. The lights from the lanterns were twinkling on the white walls, the paper garlands hung artistically around, the tables looked festive with all the bottles of fizz and plates of snacks. Outside the night air was warm and the flowers in Mammy’s side garden looked romantic and like something in a calendar picture. She and Michael were fifteen,
almost grown up, all their friends were here. But mainly Kerry O’Neill, who was eighteen and the most handsome man in Ireland, had come in the door, given her a magnificent rose for her hair, told her she looked beautiful, and was holding her in his arms as they danced to Paul McCartney. Dara hadn’t known it was possible to be so happy.

Maggie Daly said to Michael that she thought this party was like something you’d dream about.

Michael didn’t really listen, he was wondering if as host he could reasonably change the music. He wanted to put on something more lively, like the Rolling Stones. And it was particularly silly to have Grace dancing with that good-looking but basically thick fellow John Joe Conway. Grace was so nice to everyone, she shouldn’t be so polite to stupid John Joe Conway, letting him hold her close like that.

The sausages were passed round, the trifle was eaten, every bit of it. The parents and a few people from the pub, plus Declan and Eddie in his dark glasses clutching Leopold for dear life, gathered for the birthday cake. Mary Donnelly, Carrie, Jimbo, and by chance Papers Flynn who was passing by, all gathered at the door for the blowing out of the candles. There were no speeches but a lot of clapping and cheering which made Leopold over-excited and Eddie had to clench his mouth closed for fear of rousing the neighbourhood.

Then the grown-ups, relieved that the party was going so well, retired, and someone had taken out the bulb of the only real light so now the place was lit entirely by the lanterns on the walls.

It smelled of the end of the summer, of Nivea Cream and Blue Grass perfume, of cheese and onion potato crisps, of sausages and of the September flowers in the garden.

The music was almost all slow now. It was as if the energy for jumping around to the noisier tunes before supper was no longer there.

Michael didn’t mind if there were girls he hadn’t danced with yet, they probably didn’t want to dance with him, they all seemed happy. He stood and talked to Grace or they moved out to dance. All the time she laughed and listened to him and told him things, and many times she said, ‘Michael, you are wonderful,’ and he knew she meant it.

Liam White danced a lot with Maggie.

Tommy Leonard looked wistfully for an opportunity to dance with Dara again, but he never got one because Dara had never left Kerry O’Neill’s arms from the moment he had come into the room and given her the beautiful rose for her hair.

‘It’s a quarter to twelve, I suppose we should start making some noises,’ Kate said.

‘You don’t know the whole principle of drinking-up time,’ John said.

‘Jesus, Mary and Joseph, you have the heart across me, tell me they have no drink in there.’

‘No, I was speaking figuratively,’ John said.

‘Don’t,’ said Kate.

‘I meant we told them twelve, so just after twelve we go in making noises, that’s the way things are done.’

‘How right you are,’ Kate said. She felt a yearning to hold John close to her tonight. And she knew he felt the same.