Legacy (6 page)

Chapter Twelve

The move to Belfast gave Gabrielle a fresh perspective on life. She now looked forward to each day. Her colleagues were a sociable bunch of girls and it wasn't long before she felt right at home in the big city. Her days passed in a whirl of laughter, learning and contentment and she wished she had made the move earlier.

It would be fair to say that Gabrielle could not attribute all of her fervour to her wonderful new job and friends, a much stronger compulsion fuelled her exhilaration. Max.

Gabrielle was totally consumed with love for Max. Since he had bought her that lifesaving lunch two months earlier, she had really gotten to know him. No longer did she reject his advances on the contrary she positively sought them. Much to the confusion of the girls in Derry, she had suddenly become available to take his calls and reply to his letters. Luckily for her, he never questioned how busy she had once claimed to be. If he had asked the only truthful answer Gabrielle could have furnished him with would have been that she was busy, very busy in fact. Busy avoiding him.

Since that lunch everything had changed, they even met up in Derry once or twice. Yet one hundred miles separated them and this was a distance that seemed futile. Max lived in Belfast and Gabrielle would have moved heaven and earth to have been near him. The fact that she chose to move to Belfast rather than Dublin was no coincidence. During that first lunch any initial reservations she had regarding his perceived arrogance and ego evaporated. He single handily restored her confidence in men.

In Max, she found a genuine, sensitive, assured and proud man. His appearance secured the deal. She was sold. For the first time ever she could identify with the love songs and films she had listened to and watched. Now they had true meaning, she knew without a doubt what all the fuss was about. Gabrielle was in love and her gut told her that she had found her soul mate. Her mother had always said when you meet the right one you will know, she was right on this point, because when Gabrielle was with Max she just knew. All that had gone before was simply child's play and she thanked God for being jilted, for her father's shortbread and the effectiveness of his whole host of male disposal efforts.

Within months of meeting they were spending every second of their free time together, yet somehow for Gabrielle it never seemed enough. If she had one day off she wanted two, two days she wanted three, going so far as to wish that she could somehow cut herself in half so that she could be with him all the time. The rest of her could carry on with work, visit home and conduct the dreary necessities of life. It was perfect, they were perfect and right then her life was perfect.

Chapter Thirteen

Where there is light and beauty, there is darkness and ugliness. This manifested itself in the form of racism. It continues to stalk my family to this day. Racism manifested itself in many different guises, from the upper and middle class ‘polite' insult, to casual remarks from colleagues, right through to loud insults from aggressive and blatant strangers. Regardless of its form and the different mouthpieces it exploited, its perpetrators all looked the same. Their indignant faces would be twisted with bitterness; their hatred consumed all their features. They became warped and grotesque, as they regarded Gabrielle and Max with eyes that exhibited the depths of contempt that lurked inside.

When they were dating Gabrielle made light of any causally thrown comments, stares and malevolent remarks. Hours were spent laughing them off or rolling her eyes mockingly. Gabrielle even managed to make Max laugh, mocking their persecutors in secret whispers and sarcasm. Sometimes they even tried to pre-empt the comments, they could almost tell by the individual how their comments were going to form before they had even been uttered.

Despite this, a pattern emerged that would continue for the rest of her life. When she would lie down at night in the restless hours waiting for sleep, her mind would revisit the incidents of that day. She would explore them over and over again, trying to make sense of them, she never succeeded. She would contemplate the nature of those who could do such things. She could never and would never consider these individuals as human. Were these creatures blind? Could they not see the beauty that she saw? The kindness? The generosity of spirit? Gabrielle was always a deep thinker and when unsavoury events occurred she became introverted and would linger on events far longer than any mind could cope with. Perhaps it was this aspect of her personality, the fact that she cared so much that led to her problems in later life.

It was at times when Gabrielle experienced blatant racism that she was ashamed to be white, ashamed to have even the smallest strand of DNA in common with these monstrosities. Thinking back to her youthful views on the American people, she realised that her own people were not any different.

On one occasion Gabrielle and Max had decided to go for a quiet meal and had chosen a popular Belfast eatery. When they walked through the door the hustle and bustle of the busy restaurant instantly stopped, all eyes were on them. The silence that ensued makes me think of a rowdy cowboy in an old western at the moment when he saunters into a saloon bar demanding a draw with the town's hero. Gabrielle and Max were the rowdy cowboys to these people; they perceived them, Max in particular as a stranger - a threat. It would not have surprised me from the description of that night if tumbleweed had blown along the restaurant floor in front of them.

Max must have felt the atmosphere yet acted like nothing was amiss and escorted them to their seats. It was only when couples came in after them that Gabrielle noticed a maître de clamouring to welcome the new arrivals. He boasted of the specials whilst selecting prime seating for them. Gabrielle and Max waited and waited for a menu which arrived with a kindly slam on the table, Max's slam was given with additional force.

No kindly maître de recited the specials to them.

After waiting a further forty minutes for their order to be taken, Gabrielle grew increasingly agitated and pleaded with Max to allow them to leave. Max refused stubbornly insisting that they waited. Gabrielle was in no doubt angry, not only with the restaurant but also with Max; it was a miracle that they didn't argue. By this stage all who arrived after them had been served, some were even ordering desert.

As the situation unfolded around them Gabrielle was learning that Max was a proud man; he did not easily align himself with defeat, so it was with a heavy heart that she suppressed her anger and waited with him. When almost an hour had passed and still no food arrived, Max made his way to the maître de while Gabrielle looked on discreetly. After he had spoken to the maître de Max turned to return to the table.

It all happened so fast; the maître de extended his right foot and hooked it around Max's ankle. Max immediately fell to the floor with a thud.

Gabrielle heard bone collide with the hard ground. The maître de and the kitchen staff laughed, the other diners simply looked on. Gabrielle ran to him and this time he needed no pleading on her part to leave the restaurant.

As they left Gabrielle saw the maître de wipe their unused table; a bottle of disinfectant in hand.

Many other deplorable incidents occurred in those months, too numerous to detail. Max's handling of these, never complaining yet never quite accepting, only made Gabrielle admire him more.

It wasn't all doom and gloom on the social scene however, as a couple they had good friends, friends who restored Gabrielle's faith in humanity and the people she lived amongst. Her friends were predominantly from the hospital background. They were surrounded by a multitude of different races in their everyday life so they didn't bat an eyelid at Max. Nor did they flinch at Gabrielle and Max's relationship. Max's friends came mainly from his work. Gabrielle thought they were boring accountants', bookish nerds but Max was clearly fond of them so by default she was too. They went to many parties and in an unspoken agreement between them only frequented familiar and safe places. They became regulars at the ‘Egg' bar, where if even a derogatory stare was thrown in their direction the staff would immediately remove the offender.

Their friends were also to become protective of Max; they like Gabrielle were utterly perplexed by the attitudes emerging around them. To Max's accountancy friends he was a strong contender in the race for the coveted title of ‘chartered' accountant. To Gabrielle's medical friends he was simply ‘Gabrielle's Max'. All of them saw beyond Max's skin colour, seeing him for what he was; a professional young man, fun, mannerly and a great conversationalist.

They got engaged after a year. It was no surprise to their friends and congratulatory cards and gifts were showered upon them. Gabrielle's parents knew that she was dating someone and she looked forward to greeting them with the news. Max was going away for a training session the following week so Gabrielle planned a trip home. She would use this visit to seize the opportunity to announce her good news.

In their regular telephone conversations her mother had told Gabrielle of the antics in her home town, she seemed thoroughly disheartened by it all. She spoke of the increase in IRA activity and of how she would not stand for such inexcusable behaviour. She was outraged, she claimed that no battle was ever won through bloodshed, talking was what was needed.

“What kind of an outfit preys on young men, with their whole lives in front of them,” her mother would lament.

Her mother's account of the situation at home seemed so bleak that Gabrielle knew a spoonful of good news would be just the tonic. Her mother would then have something to take her mind of events and something new to concentrate on. Gabrielle cemented the arrangements for visiting that very weekend.

For once Gabrielle actually looked forward to going home; she wanted to see the delight of her mother and father. By now all the girls that she had grown up with were happily married. Some were even on child number three. Yet she was 23 and still residing in the exclusively female nurse's home. Gabrielle was worried that her parents doubted her sexuality.

When the weekend finally arrived Gabrielle took the bus home ensuring that she had the previous night's mass sheet safely ensconced in her handbag. Her mother liked to question her on her church attendance. Gabrielle discovered that collecting a mass sheet from the chapel and memorising it was enough to convince her that she was continuing in the Catholic life she had been lumbered with. Having not attended one mass service since moving to Belfast she had no intentions of starting now, she even went so far as to time her arrival home to coincide with the end of Sunday mass. She would simply say she had attended the night before. Belfast was so busy that the sacred Sunday mass was also held on Saturdays to ensure that all the devout got a chance to pray. This tradition remains until this very day.

Gabrielle would stay at home until Wednesday so she could get a good break and catch up on all the news. She was quite sure though that the upcoming wedding would outshine any news that they could throw at her. She also had an ulterior motive for her extended stay at home. Max's training would last until Wednesday, so he wouldn't be back in Belfast until then. There was little point in her being there without him. Without him Belfast would be a lonely place. A lesson she would one day learn, it's a pity her older self didn't heed her younger self's opinions, instead Gabrielle would chase the source of her happiness and one day return.

As the bus chugged along the road to Strabane, she took the two hour opportunity to memorise the previous night's mass.

Chapter Fourteen

As usual when Gabrielle arrived home she found that home life continued as normal. Her siblings still managed to eradicate any promise of silence, her father was still working long shifts and her mother was still holding throne. Gabrielle liked the sense of normality that home gave her regardless of what was going on in the world outside, behind that little front door nothing ever changed. The routines of her childhood were still practised, the same visitors still called and the teapot was always on. There is comfort in familiarity and after a hectic week on the wards this was exactly what she sought.

As it was Sunday they were having their Sunday roast and would all dine together at the table. For the remaining six days of the week the children ate at the ‘children's' table a small collapsible table reserved strictly for them and their spillages.

The formality of today's dinner was lost on Gabrielle. She was positively bursting with excitement, eager to broadcast the news of her up and coming nuptials. She had so far flaunted her engagement ring in more faces than enough. To her disappointment no one noticed. The children were so concerned with avoiding the dreaded ‘stick' that they concentrated solely on being good. Her mother was too busy pontificating and of course dissecting every blessed word the priest had uttered in the earlier mass. Her father was holding court with anyone who would listen. The result was that her huge sparkling diamond and sapphire ring went unnoticed. Blind as bats the lot of them she thought. She knew that for now she was fighting a losing battle, so concentrated less on the ring and instead on finding the perfect moment to reveal her news.

Over dinner, talk inevitably lingered on the current political situation and the rise in sectarian activity. Her mother expressed her unhappiness with Gabrielle's choice of Belfast as a home, stating that safety should be everyone's prime consideration.

“Innocent people get caught out too you know, do you think they would care about anyone who stood in their way,” her mother demanded.

Her father on the other hand, at the mention of innocents shot or murdered, shook his head at the very thought,

“No lives worth a blade a grass,” he said,

Gabrielle's father firmly believed that if Ireland was ever to be united it should be done peacefully.

As the mood at the table became more and more sombre, Gabrielle knew that it was time to interject with her good news. She waited until the subject of Belfast was raised again before seizing her opportunity.

It was one of her little sisters who opened the conversation asking about the shops, cinemas and restaurants, her little eyes widening at the thought of life in the big city.

“Can I come up and see you?” she had asked,

Her mother's face was already rigid at the thought,

“No one's going to Belfast,” she snapped, “no one in their right mind anyway.”

In response Gabrielle could only laugh and knew she had her moment,

“Well actually you may all be going to Belfast,” she started,

Her mother shrewd as she was, raised her eyebrow and asked about this “Max fella”. Gabrielle braced herself for the inevitable questions. How much time she was spending with him? Did he know Belfast well? What did he do? The list went on and on. It was now or never, time for her announcement.

Gabrielle took a deep breath and tried to suppress her grin before blurting,

“We got engaged!!”

Her mother and father's immediate reaction was why this Max hadn't asked for their permission. Good grief they were so old fashioned Gabrielle had thought. She forced a deep sigh and reminded them that times were changing; it was almost 1973.

“Well he's not marrying you,” she barked in her fiancés defence,

Her little sisters sniggered whilst her parents ignored her comments preferring to begin the art of extracting information from her. Gabrielle felt like an orange being juiced, they already knew about Max, that she had met him in Derry; that he lived in Belfast and that he was an accountant. Gabrielle had told them everything, so much so that she had nothing but pulp left to give them. It was as if they were determined to ask her each question over and over, an inquisition. She was sure the army would have vacancies for them; their interrogation skills were impeccable, second to none.

Her parents knew he was kind, financially stable and most importantly; all that they really needed to know was that she had never been happier.

Yet they continued to quiz her, she answered all their questions and waited for her father's inevitable question.

“Is he Catholic this Max?”

Gabrielle bristled, as Max wasn't a Catholic and she knew that this would not be taken well. All the positive things she had told them about Max would evaporate when they were given the answer,

“No Dad, he's Protestant, but it doesn't bother me.”

Her father's reaction was not as bad as she had expected,

“I suppose he could convert, if he's keen enough; I'd rather you married in the Catholic Church.”

Gabrielle was slightly taken aback by her father's acceptance of this fact and nodded. Yet she knew that it was highly unlikely that Max would convert. It was even more unlikely that she would ask him. What a thing to ask someone to do! For now though she guessed that her father could content himself with thinking that this may be the case.

“So when can we meet this Max?” her father asked

“Well I'm working next weekend, but perhaps I could swap Sunday with someone. Would that suit?” she asked.

“Grand,” her father said.

Her mother was already preparing for the visit, talking about what she would serve, what she would wear, what her father would wear. Would dinner or a buffet be better? Who would she invite, just close family or a wider circle of friends? What would the little ones wear, and could Father Converey make it? Would it be acceptable for Father Converey to be there at all since this man hadn't converted yet? Maybe she would discuss this with Father Converey first before she decided.

Her mother was then to pipe up with another question,

“So Gabrielle, what will your new surname be?”

“Olorunda,” she casually informed her,

Her mother looked confused and turned to her father who was nodding knowledgably,

“Aye that would be a Western name hails from around Donegal and Sligo, a lot of the planters brought that with them,” he said, clearly self-satisfied with his display of Irish genealogy.

“Not quite,” she said laughing. “Unless you mean Western African?”

There was silence.

Gabrielle recalls hearing the remnants of her laugh echo around in her head. Her mother mouthed words for some time before any emerged, hand over her heart she whispered,

“
Is he black
?”

Gabrielle nodded.

“Well you don't get many white Nigerians.”

As Gabrielle looked from her father to her mother she saw nothing, no reaction, none at all. Seconds later her mother left the room. Her father followed.

Not knowing how to react Gabrielle got up and went out to the garden.

Her parents were obviously deliberating her situation. She was concerned but not overly so. It would be a shock to them, but they would get used to the idea. Her father was a good man and her mother although they had their moments, was a lot of things but she was not a bigot. She could never be consumed with such hatred.

She was certain her father would call her in soon, both her parents were simply getting used to the idea. Once they had they could go on discussing the plans for next weekend. Sure enough her father came out and she waited for him to tell her to bring Max home as planned.

She smiled at him but it wasn't reciprocated,

“Your mother thinks it's time you went back to Belfast, Gabrielle,” he said and without looking at her he continued.

“You need time to come to your senses.”

Gabrielle stared back stunned

“You see Gabrielle you need to think of the children such a, such a marriage would produce. What would they be? Where would they fit in? You have to think long term, now I'm sure this Max is a grand chap but maybe it's best you stick to your own eh?”

Not once had her father's eyes met hers which was just as well, as she no longer could look at him.

“And what do you think Daddy?” she had asked, fed up with this brow beaten man who never articulated his own feelings. “Be a man Daddy, I know you don't think that,” she said.

He still did not look at his daughter only a slight tremor in his hand belayed that she was right. Never before had she felt so angry with her once kindly father. Never before had his obedience to his wife irked her so much.

“Your mother is concerned about would the neighbours think,”

By this stage his hands trembled as much as his voice. And rightly so Gabrielle thought these words came from the so called ‘good Catholics' who had raised her. She was certain that unless things had changed drastically in her time away they weren't taught such attitudes in any mass she had attended. Gabrielle's estimation of her mother and father diminished there and then. She now saw one of them as a racist and the other a weak. She went back indoors and packed her things; she couldn't see through the tears. She hugged her little sisters, closed the door and left. She wept for the entire journey. That was the day that she truly left home.