The First Time I Said Goodbye (29 page)

Dolores could be cruel when she wanted to be, Stella thought.

There wasn’t a day that passed that Stella didn’t long for a letter to arrive or didn’t hope, even though she knew it impossible, that she would open the front door and find Ray there, that twinkle in his eyes and that smile she loved so well on his face and that he would tell her that it was okay and they were together again.

She undressed and climbed into bed to keep warm, taking the latest letter from him out from under her pillow. It had arrived that morning and she had been saving it for bedtime to read. She knew it would make her heart ache with longing and she didn’t want to rush off to work with her face tearstained or missing him more than usual. Having something to look forward to had got her through the day. She found more and more she needed these little pick-me-ups. Just like she needed to look at the suitcase at the bottom of the bed, which she had started to fill with items from her bottom drawer – bits and pieces she had picked up along the way for when she started married life. Looking through it made it feel more real – like it was happening. Sometimes as the days passed she started to wonder if it ever would.

Snuggling down under the blankets, she took out the two pages with his scrawling handwriting and held them close to her. It was silly, she knew. No doubt some would feel she was a foolish young girl with her head in the clouds, but to think that his hands were the last thing on this paper, and then to feel that paper against her body, made her feel closer to him.

My darling Stella,

Has it really been five weeks since I saw you? I swear I look at your picture every day – the one your father gave me before I left – and I try to imagine you here with me.

The boys, they say I’ve gone soft, but I haven’t, Stella. I just know a good thing when I find it.

I’m getting closer to having all our arrangements sorted this end – the marriage quarters won’t be fancy but after our nest in Derry I know we will manage just fine.

When they let me out, I hope you don’t mind if we live with my parents for a while – just until we have the deposit together for a nice place? Don’t worry – they have a basement which they have converted for us. We have our own front door and everything. We won’t even realise they are close by a lot of the time. They are so looking forward to meeting you, Stella – the woman who stole my heart away. My mom had high hopes for me settling down with the girl next door but I told her you knock the socks clean off any of the local girls – my Irish rose.

These days are so hard but I know that with every one that passes I am closer to seeing you again and when I see you I won’t let you go. You mean the world to me – I could never have imagined meeting someone so caring, so loving and so selfless.

You make me want to be a better person. Does that sound corny? Does it sound like something the leading man would say in one of those movies you love so much?

I hope so, and I hope it made you smile because I want so much to see you smiling, my Stella. Seeing you crying on our last night just about broke my heart. Have faith, my darling.

Know that whatever happens now, we will be together again and just like in those movies we will have our happy ending.

Yours, always,

Ray

X

Kissing his name softly, Stella lay back in bed and wiped a tear from her eye, then forced herself to take a deep breath and not give in to the tears. He was right, of course he was. It was only a matter of time before they would be together again. She had to see every day as a countdown – as a step closer to their reunion. She folded the letter carefully and put it back in the envelope before slipping it under her pillow just as she heard a knock at the door.

“Stella?” her mother’s voice called.

“Come in, Mammy!”

Kathleen Hegarty pushed open the door and carried in two cups of tea. “I thought I would bring you up a cup of tea before bed, pet. You didn’t come in to say goodnight. I’m worried about you, pining over your young man.”

Stella pulled herself up to sit and offered her mother a weak smile. “Thanks, Mammy. You’re very good to me.” She took the cup from her mother and began to sip the tea.

“Look, you have to take care of yourself,” her mother said softly. “I know this is hard for you, especially with your sister gadding
about with her new man, but you know it’s only temporary.”

Stella nodded. “Sometimes it feels like forever.”

“Ah, the wise words of the young,” Kathleen said with a sad smile. “Wait till you’re my age – then the days go flying by.”

“You’re still young, Mammy. You and Daddy both.”

“Almost fifty,” Kathleen said. “With a family half reared. Just waiting on you all to settle down now and get out in the world to fend for yourselves. Maybe your daddy can take it a bit easier then.”

Stella nodded. She knew Kathleen was worried about Ernest and how hard he worked. When he wasn’t down at the docks he was looking for work wherever he could find it – trying to make sure the Hegarty family had food on the table.

“Will you manage when I’m gone, Mammy, without me paying into the house?”

“You’re not to worry about such things. Sure I’m not going to keep you all under my roof for the sake of a few bob!”

She smiled but Stella wondered how forced it was. She also knew she was a born worrier and nothing her mother would say would change that. Still, it was another dose of guilt that she knew she would have to deal with if she left.

She finished her toast while she and her mother talked and then, when her teacup was drained, she pulled on a pair of socks and her old cardigan and followed her mother downstairs to sit and enjoy her company for a while longer.

Ernest and the older boys were listening to the football on the wireless in the back room. Every now and again Stella would close her eyes and soak in the sounds. What a position to be in, she thought to herself, to leave the family she loved so dearly to be with the man she couldn’t be without.

When it was clear that the Hegartys’ favoured football team had won, the boys made their way into the kitchen full of cheer and ready for some supper. While James and Peter tucked into their wheaten bread, and supped their tea, Stella watched her mother and father sit together, hands held, laughing at some shared joke. She was sure, if they had to, each of them would go to the ends of the earth for the other.

* * *

There was never any need for an alarm bell to sound in the Hegarty household to wake anyone up. The sound of Ernest Hegarty up and about, slipping his feet into his hobnailed boots and clumping around the house whistling as he readied himself for work was enough to have the whole house roused. Kathleen would generally follow her husband down the stairs – putting a pot of porridge on the stove which would see him off to work with a full stomach. The younger boys, light sleepers at the best of times, would follow, and the girls, getting ready for the eight o’clock factory horn would be shortly after. The older boys were the only ones who needed a shake to get out of their beds and out looking for work.

The morning routine was hectic but by gone half past eight the house was usually back to its calm self – the children off to work, school or the labour market, and Kathleen would set about her daily chores.

There were no lie-ins to be had at the Hegarty house – so when Stella woke to find the streets light and the house silent she felt uneasy. It must have been at least half past seven if not eight for there to be light coming through the curtains. She looked to her side where she could see Dolores still out for the count, her hair in rollers peeking over her blankets. Since meeting Hugh, Dolores never left the house looking anything less than a million dollars. Stella listened carefully – trying to pick up on the sound of her father’s hobnailed boots, or his whistle or the sound of his porridge bowl clattering into the sink followed by Kathleen’s voice gently scolding him for being so rough. There was no sound of the younger boys. Seán had yet to pop his head around the door or jump on her bed to wake her.

Stella lifted her watch from her bedside table and, squinting at it, saw that it was five to eight. She had just five minutes to make it to the factory floor or she would be reprimanded, her wages maybe docked. She hauled herself out of bed and called to Dolores to wake up, stepping over to shake her.

“We’re late, Dolores! Come on! Get up! Mammy and Daddy must have slept in. We’ve all slept in. You go wake the boys for school and I’ll go and wake Mammy and Daddy. Come on, we need to get there as soon as we can!” She threw her dressing gown over her nightdress and left the room, shouting once more to Dolores, who had just sat up and was still disorientated from her sleep, to wake the boys.

Why she decided she would be the one to wake their parents, Stella didn’t know. She didn’t think about it. She wished, in the days and weeks to come, that she had woken the boys instead – that she had turned in the landing and walked the other way. But instead, eager to get to work, worried that her daddy would miss a day at the docks and the family finances would be in dire straits, concerned about getting the younger boys to school, worried there was no porridge on the stove, she walked into her parents’ room to wake them.

She stopped almost as soon as she opened the door. Her brain tried to process the sight in front of her. The room was barely lit – but yet she could see everything as if a light were shining, as if it were glaring at her.

Her father lay, motionless, pale, his lips a strange blue-ish tint, his face contorted into some strange expression she didn’t recognise. Her mother, her shoulders shaking, lay with her head on his chest, holding his waxy-looking hand in hers. Stella stood, aghast, as she saw that hand flop to the bed as her mother rubbed her father’s arm and raised her head to look at her daughter.

Stella felt the room sway, was aware of the sound of Dolores waking the boys. Was aware of the pleading in her mother’s eyes as she looked at her and back to where Ernest lay. She was aware of the footsteps of Seán as he left his room. She felt the panic rise in her throat and she looked around for something to hold on to, grabbing at the door frame to steady herself.

“Smella, are we late?” Seán chirped. “Can you believe I slept an’ slept an’ slept?”

She turned to her brother and tried to find the right words, while she thought of how his life was about to be torn apart.

“Dolores!” she called, trying to keep a degree of control in her voice. “Can you take the boys downstairs and put the kettle on?”

“I need to get ready for work,” Dolores huffed. “You know we’ll be in trouble.”

“Dolores, please,” Stella said. “Please take the boys downstairs and I’ll be down in a minute.”

“Dear God, Stella Hegarty! Who died and made you boss?” Dolores squared up to her and Stella, momentarily stung by her sister’s words, had to fight back the urge to tell her just who exactly had died and made her boss but she didn’t. She couldn’t and she
wouldn’t. She had to stay calm. She had to be the grown-up.

“Just do it, Dolores,” she repeated firmly and her sister stomped down the stairs, the two younger boys hot on her heels.

“Where’s Mammy and Daddy?” she heard Seán ask as they went into the kitchen and she closed her eyes to steady herself once again before turning back to the room where Kathleen was now stroking her beloved husband’s face and raining a hundred kisses on him, trying to smooth the contorted lines.

“I’ll get the doctor,” Stella said.

“There’s no point, love,” Kathleen said, never for one moment taking her eyes off her husband. “He’s gone, pet. I woke up and he was gone. He’s cold,” she sobbed, pulling the blanket up around him. “How could I not have known? How did I not feel him slip away right beside me? How did my own heart not stop beating too?”

Stella felt a lump rise in her throat which she forced down. She wanted to cross the room. She wanted to kiss her daddy too but she was scared. She didn’t want to feel the coldness of his body. He didn’t look like himself and the expression on his face frightened her. She felt horrified at her own reaction and yet, in that instant, frozen to the spot.

“There are formalities,” she mumbled. “I’ll get the older boys up, and get Mrs Murphy over and get the doctor.”

Kathleen nodded, again her eyes not leaving Ernest, her head resting once more on his chest. Stella turned, glad to look away from the scene before her – but knowing she would never forget it for the rest of her days.

Her legs shaky beneath her, she walked to the boys’ bedroom where she called to Peter and James to get up. “Boys, I need you up and no complaining.”

They stirred, turning to look at her, their eyes still heavy with sleep.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, our Stella,” Peter said.

“Boys, please,” she said, her voice cracking. “It’s Daddy. Daddy’s gone. I need to get the doctor and you need to get up to help Mammy.”

The boys – grown men older than she was – looked at her, wide-eyed, trying to take in her words.

“The wains, they don’t know. Or Dolores. Mammy is with him and I need to get dressed, so you need to get up and get a fire lit and make sure the front room is sorted. They’ll be putting him there. And make sure the younger boys are looked after. Help Dolores get them washed and dressed. You’ll have to help me tell them.” She tried to suck some air into her constricting lungs.