“Mam, you sit at the head of the table.” Ali pulled out the chair for her mother.

  “I’ll sit at the other end,” Úna said. “I can jump up and down for food easier that way.”

  “Right, the rest of yez!” Conn organised the family around the long wide kitchen table.

  Úna had Conn carry the big heavy pots over to the table where they had placed two pieces of slate to protect the wood.

  “With so many of us this was the best way we could figure out to do this,” Úna said. “We’d spill too much if I filled the bowls at the stove to pass around. If everyone will pass me their bowls – one by one – I’ll start filling them. Me mam first.”

  The thick white bowls were passed along the table to the delight of the youngest children. They had never seen the like.

  Úna put a big dollop of creamed potatoes into each bowl and a generous scoop of the fish to cover it.

  “Help yerselves to the bread on the table,” Conn said, carrying the pots, the contents much diminished, back to the range.

  “This is lovely.” Lily looked up to smile at Úna. “I couldn’t have done better myself.”

  “Thanks, Mam.” Úna was almost faint with relief. “I was so nervous. I didn’t want to make a show of meself.”

  Everyone tucked in. Compliments were paid to the cook from time to time but everyone concentrated on clearing their bowls.

  “What’s them funny balls in the dish?” Rory’s eyes were almost bigger than his face. He’d never had so much food – it was lovely but it was all gone – but he could have bread too if he wanted, Conn said.

  “That’s butter, son.” Lily wanted to cry at having most of her family sitting around the table with her, tucking into the best meal they’d had in years. “Who formed it into balls?”

  “I did.” Úna blushed. Ivy had shown her how with two wooden paddles. She loved doing it.

  Lily nodded. “That Valeria Gibson is certainly training you well.”

  “Valeria couldn’t make a stew like this to save her life!” Mike laughed aloud. “Ouch!” he yelled, staring at Conn across the table from him. “Why did you kick me?”

  Ali sighed. “Mrs Ryan taught Úna to cook the food and make the butter balls,” she told her mother.

  “Ivy is teaching me how to use the range,” Úna said.

  Ali glared at her again. She didn’t want to upset her mother. The poor woman had only an open fire to cook over. “Would anyone like more food?” She asked the question that was sure to attract the attention of her young siblings.

  “Can we?” Malachi asked.

  “Ma, can we?” Rory shouted.

  “I want!” Amanda yelled.

  “You all quiet down now.” Lily rapped the handle of her spoon on the table. “Answer your sister but in a nice polite way.”

  “Yes, please!” they all yelled together.

  Conn stood. “I’ll get the pots.”

  “How am I going to do this?” Úna said as the four children thrust their bowls at her.

  “Put those bowls down!” Lily ordered. “Right, Úna – take one bowl at a time – return it to the person who gave it – then the next one is passed. Anyone who grabs gets nothing.”

  “Thanks, Mam.” Úna began to refill the bowls, thrilled with the success of her first attempt at cooking. She’d be sure to tell Ivy how much everyone enjoyed it.

  “Mam,” Conn looked down the table at his mother, “Liam and Vera asked if you and our da would like to go see their show one evening. You could leave the youngsters with us one night while you and me da go out on the town.”

  “Oh!” Lily held her hand to her heart. She hadn’t been out on the town in years. “I’ll have to talk to your da.” She ignored the whining of the younger children who wanted to spend the night in this magical place.

  “Of course,” Conn said.

  “Can we see the rest of the house?” Carmel dared to ask.

  “Afraid not,” Conn said. “The place was left in a mess that hasn’t been sorted yet. I’ll ask Ria if she’ll let you visit after the place has been cleared.”

  “I’ve heard about that.” Lily and everyone else in The Lane had been talking about the goings-on in this house. “Is it really that bad?”

  “Mam, it’s a nightmare.” Conn looked at the others who nodded in agreement.

  “You know that old junk shop you used to take us to?” Ali remembered the visits to the shop long before all the babies started to arrive.

  “Mr Hastlehoff – I haven’t been there in years,” Lily smiled at the memory of holding a little Alison by the hand with a baby Conn in the pram. Where had the years gone?

  “Well, upstairs looks a bit like that,” Ali said.

  When the bowls had been licked clean – literally in the case of the younger ones – Conn stood to pull the black kettle that had been sitting on the back of the range over the fire. He took down a catering-size teapot and poured hot water inside to warm it.

  Ali was aware of her mother’s eyes following her son doing what would be called ‘woman’s work’. “Mrs Ryan insists on everyone pulling their weight in a house,” she leaned forward to say.

  “I’ll make the tea if you clear the table, Mike,” Conn said.

  Lily almost fell out of her chair when Mike stood without a word of complaint and began to clear the table of dirty dishes.

  “We never realised how much you done for us, Mam,” Úna said softly.

  “I’ll set the table for the tea.” Ali stood to open the large cupboard standing against the wall.

  The youngest children gathered around her to peek inside.

  “Ooh, you’ve got lots of things!” Amanda’s nose was almost in the cupboard.

  “They came with the house.” Ali pulled her sister away before the child could be tempted to touch. “I’ll pass you the cups and saucers, Amanda, and you put each set carefully on the table when I tell you who it’s for.”

  “Me, me!” Rory bounced on his toes. “What will I do?”

  “I’ll give you the mugs to put out.”

  “Will you tell me who it’s for and all?”

  “The mugs are for the gentlemen.” Ali smiled down at his innocent face. She’d missed the youngsters.

  “Ooh, am I a gentlemen?” Rory grinned widely in delight.

  “You,” she bent to kiss his nose, “are a gentleman.”

  The setting of the table took twice as long with her helpers but she wouldn’t have changed a thing.

  Conn made the large pot of tea then refilled the kettle, placing it directly over the fire so they would have hot water to wash the dishes.

  “Well,” Lily was taking it all in, “I can see yez are getting on a treat.”

  They all held their breath as Conn carried the huge teapot over to the table. Because of its size it had a handle directly over the spout to give the server additional support.

  “Thanks, Mam,” he said. “Like Úna said, we never realised all the work you did for us.” He smiled down at his mother. “There was wigs on the green when we first moved in here.”

  “Yeah.” Úna sat back to allow Conn to serve her tea. “They all thought I should wait on them hand and foot just like you did.”

  “I see you set them straight.” Lily watched Alison prepare milky sweet tea for the four youngest. Carmel was being served her tea in a fancy cup and saucer, much to her delight.

  “I didn’t.” Úna sipped her tea. “Mrs Ryan did – all I did was moan and complain.”

  Conn took his seat. “Mam –” he said, before jumping back up again. “I forgot the biscuits.”

  He pulled a brown-paper bag almost overflowing with biscuits from the cupboard. He emptied the bag under the watchful eye of the younger ones onto two large plates and set them on the table.

  “Is that what you wanted to tell me?” Lily smiled at her eldest son. “That you forgot the biscuits?”

  “No.” Conn took his mug of tea in one hand and reached for a biscuit with the other. “I wanted to tell you that we need help, Mam.” He prayed he could get this out without insulting his mother.

  “I don’t see how.” Lily looked around with pleasure. “It seems to me you are all doing very well for yourselves.”

  Ali decided to give her brother a hand. “Mam, it’s the laundry.”

  “You know how fussy our Liam is,” Úna added her tuppence worth.

  “You wouldn’t know you were born doing laundry in all this luxury.” Lily thought of the hours of hauling buckets of water – heating them over the fire – walking on the dirty clothes in the bathtub – trying desperately to get everything dry – putting the iron on the fire to heat. She eyed the drying rack that was tucked tightly against the ceiling. It was pulley-operated and could be dropped down in front of the range to dry the clothes. The iron could be put on the range top. Luxury indeed.

  “Liam –” Conn hoped his brother would forgive him for putting the blame on him – he wasn’t here and hopefully their mother would have forgotten by the time she saw him, “Liam wants to send the clothes out to the laundry.”

  “Do you know how much those places charge?” Lily was shocked to think of giving anyone good money to wash clothes.

  “Yes, we do, Mam.” Conn crossed his fingers under the table out of sight. “We talked about it, Mam, and wondered if you’d do our laundry.” He leaned forward to stare at his mother. “We’d pay you what we’d have to pay the laundry.”

  “Would I do it here?” Lily couldn’t imagine the luxury of having this big place to work in.

  “If you would, Mam. When the youngsters are out at school. I’d put the big pots on the range in the morning to heat the water.” He knew his mother always sat in the cold. She lit the fire for the children coming home from school but never for herself.

  “You’d have the place to yourself.” Úna too prayed her mother would accept. They’d be able to pay her and pass her little luxuries. “I’d be somewhere around the house if you needed anything and Ali is only next door if I’m not here.”

  “I’ll have to think about it,” Lily said but she knew she would do it. Talk about having your cake and eating it too! She wouldn’t know she was born.

  Chapter 37

  In the house next door Ivy and Jem had eaten the same meal as the Connelly family and were now cuddled up in one of the soft chairs in front of the range.

  “I had a cup of tea in a working man’s caff today – in Clarendon Street.” She’d already told him about her decision to employ Jennifer Coyle.

  “I know it well.” He rubbed his bristly chin over her head which was nestled in his neck. “Before I married you, missus, I knew all the places a man could get a good cheap meal and a decent mug of tea.”

  “I was a bit stupid though.” She’d wanted to kick herself all the way home. “I was so intent on putting poor Molly’s mind at ease that I told her to send Jennifer to me on Monday.” She hit his chest softly with her clenched fist. “Sure, I forgot I won’t be here. Monday I’m in and out the back garden and those sheds like a blue-arsed fly.” Monday was the day she did her round on Merrion Square.

  “I’m surprised Leary has never tried to stop the wealthy from giving their discards to you.” Jem was wondering if he should shave before they went to bed. His Ivy’s skin was so soft. He hated to mark it.

  “He did,” Ivy laughed, “don’t you remember? He made the mistake of talking to the toffs who own the houses. Those people don’t know I exist. If he’d talked to the servants – not that he’d lower himself to do that – but if he had I’d be in a right pickle.”

  “Just goes to show he’s not all-knowing,” He was thinking about the conversation he’d had with JJ. The man was like a terrier hunting out facts.

  Jem had come up against a brick wall when it came to a way of handling the good Father Leary. He wished he knew how to get the man to leave his wife alone. It was a sin what that man was trying to do to Ivy. Why couldn’t he see that? He spouted lectures about sin and sinners often enough.

  “I never found the time to talk to yer one,” she gestured with her hand towards the front of the house, “about her bloody diamonds.”

  “I wonder where she got them?”

  “Let’s not ask that!” Ivy laughed. “We’d have Leary down on our necks for certain if she got them where I think she did.”

  “That’s none of our never mind,” he answered absently.

  “I suppose I could get Ali to help Jennifer along.” She didn’t really want another person under her feet all day but she could use the help of a skilled seamstress.

  “You can set her some work to do.” He wasn’t really listening, lost in his own thoughts. He was thinking of Conn in his new bespoke suit from Old Man Solomon. He’d looked a proper gent but there was something lacking. A bit of polish, he supposed you’d call it. He wondered how he could help there. He’d ask Ann Marie for her advice. “Alison can show her what’s what.”

  “Jem Ryan, are you listening to me?” Ivy pushed away from his chest to glare into his eyes.

  “Of course I am.” He wondered what he’d missed. He tried to pull her back into his arms. “You were worrying about the young girl starting work with you Monday.” He hoped to heaven she’d still been talking about that.

  She resisted the pull of his arms. “I wanted to talk to the girl when she arrived.” She pushed further away from his chest to stare at him. “I’ve never even clapped eyes on the girl. I don’t want her to think she’ll spend the rest of her days unpicking old dresses.” She began to settle back down, then suddenly pushed away again. “And the state of me on a Monday – what will she think!” she almost wailed.

  “You’ll drill a hole in me chest if you’re not careful.” He laughed. “You’re getting yourself into a state for nothing.”

  “I suppose.” She snuggled in closer.

  “Missus, will you stop wriggling or I’m going to throw you off and make you sit in your own chair!”

  “I’m shaking in me boots.”

  “You’re not wearing any.”

  They were silent for a while, then she asked, “What did you do today – after you got dressed up all fancy – did you have a big important men-only meeting?”

  “We talked about cleaners, would you believe?”

  “Go way!”

  “No, really. It’s becoming a big problem for us at the cinema. The men leave melted toffee and chocolate mashed into the carpet – and don’t even get me started on mud from shoes. The place will be ruined if we don’t do something about it – and soon.”

  “There’s your problem – right there.”

  “What?”

  “You said ‘men’.”

  “Yes, the men who work for us have to be able to turn their hand to whatever needs doing.”

  “And when was the last time you saw a man pick up a bit of dirt?” Ivy pushed away to stare at him. The problem was easily solved.

  “You’ll have to explain it to me.” Jem knew he was missing something. He’d better pay attention.

  “Employ women.”

  “We couldn’t do that.”

  “I’ll put the kettle on.” Ivy pushed to her feet.

  Jem tried to grab her waist and pull her back down onto his knees. He missed: his Ivy wanted a pot of tea and she was fast.

  “I must be the only man in the world who loses his wife’s attention to a pot of tea.”

  “I doubt that.” She occupied herself with preparing the tea. They hadn’t had any after their meal. “I’ve been thinking . . .”

  “Oh Lord, spare me!” Jem groaned dramatically.

  “Oh, whisht up!” she laughed. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about this for a while but I keep forgetting.”

  “Right, lay it on me.” Jem stood to fetch the small table and carry it over to the range. He wasn’t sitting on hard kitchen chairs. He liked a bit of comfort of an evening.

  “Well, you have a man taking the money for the tickets – he’s a disagreeable aul’ bugger by the way – anyway, you know in the films at the speakeasy or whatever it’s called, the people working in those places are pretty women with short skirts and a smile.”

  “We couldn’t have something like that, Ivy – Leary would lead the charge to break down the doors and burn the place around our ears.”

  “I’m not explaining this right. You and the others – ARC – you’re talking about having more than one cinema, right?”

  She put everything she’d need close to hand on top of the small table and sat down in the chair opposite Jem. He was leaning forward in his chair, his expression intent. He was listening to her now. She knew he’d only been half listening before.

  “We hope to have cinemas all over the country – in time.”

  “Well, you should be selling the experience.” She poured the tea, searching for words to explain what she could see so clearly in her mind’s eye. “It’s like the clothes we wear – what does Ann Marie call it – perception – that’s the word I’m looking for.”

  “You’ve lost me, love.” Jem accepted the mug of tea she handed him.

  “Take this morning when those Vincent de Paul men knocked on the door.”

  “I’d rather not think about that before bed – it will give me nightmares.”

  “No, think about it, Jem.” Ivy leaned over to shake his knee. “We were all done up like the dog’s dinner – it was only a fluke – but we looked the business. If we’d been wearing our work clothes those men would have pushed us out of the way and walked in – do you see what I’m saying?”

  “I’m trailing behind as usual.”

  “Right, I’m just going to spit it out – I’m getting meself into a muddle trying to spare your feelings.”

  She jumped to her feet. She needed to pace to get her ideas across.

  “Going to the cinema should be like going to the theatre. We got all dressed up when we went to see Shay on stage. You want to create that same feeling of specialness in your cinemas. You don’t want hairy-handed men about the place. You want pretty smiling girls. You could even have elegant handsome young men. You can have security – that’s a fact of life – but you can give the punters a feeling of stepping outside their own life into something glamorous.”

 

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