So Far From I Expected

2

'Caireann, here give us Tommy! Light that fire properly would you, its freezing!’

Jack chatters at me as Bobby opens a slot in the blanket and cuddles up to little Tommy. I attempt to keep the fire burning with only log left and fail miserably. Prodding at the dying embers and fighting my body’s urge to shiver as the cold of the stone floor travelled through my feet and legs I resign myself to having to brave the cold Tynaian air outside.

‘Boys I need more wood for the fire! Who’s braving the Tynaian wind for me?’ Both boys laugh at my proposterous suggestion; at the young age of 6 they know me well enough that I'm not serious. Scowling at them playfully I pull on my boots and swing open the door of the cottage bracing myself for the cold.

It's Sunday, quiet in the village and I can see my breath.

Thank you Papa for chopping wood when you got home last night!

My hands are so cold and pale I doubt I could hold the hatchet never mind split a block of wood. I gather a few logs and hear the familiar click and drag of Mr Avital's stick along the ground.

 ‘Morning Caireann, get yourself back inside or you’ll catch a death! Will I see you at mass later?’ I laugh at him for telling me off for the cold when the ice on the ground would have him break every bone in his elderly frail body in seconds.

‘Morning Mr Avital. Aye, I'll be there this morning. Would you join us for breakfast after mass? Bacon and maybe an egg?' His old face wrinkled in a grateful smile and he nods and waves as he closes the front door to his little cottage.

I sweep back in through the door and notice Mama and Papa were being accosted by the twins bouncing on the bed. I drop the logs and scoop Tommy off the bundle of blankets on the floor into Mama's arms and set about fighting with the dying fire. The logs, cold and damp spit and hiss but eventually light and some much needed heat spreads through the cottage.

The twins jump off the bed and begin warming themselves eagerly at the fire, and line up everyone's boots so they'll be warm to put on before mass. A light breakfast of tea and some dry bread on a Sunday as after mass, a feast of bacon and eggs.

'Mama, I asked Mr Avital for breakfast, I hope that's alright.' I know it will be, Mama and Papa are so fond of him and he's a welcome addition to the table with his old songs and stories to keep us all entertained.

'Aw lovely, I'm so glad he said yes! Boys, you make sure to be on your best behavior and perhaps he'll tell you a story!' The boys bound around the cottage shouting ' A story, a story!' creating a whirlwind for the heat to follow.

I dress quickly with my back to them and take Tommy to feed him whilst Mama and Papa get themselves and the twins dressed and ready for mass. After a loud belch and a giggle from his dribbly little mouth I know Tommy's full and Mama takes him and blows rasberries on his red cheeks. I wash my hands and face in ice cold water and smooth down my warm, grey, wollen Sunday dress before combing my hair.

Each year for my birthday, Papa would come home with a silk ribbon for my hair, I reach up and finger each of seventeen ribbons neatly tied on the rafter and select the emerald green one to tie back my hair.

‘You look lovely Caireann, doesn’t she boys? Michael? I’ve never seen a prettier girl in all of my life!’ The boys snicker with each other but nod in agreement and Papa smiles a happy sad smile at me before kissing my forehead.

‘My only girl, you’re almost the image of your mother when she was your age! You should be married by now pet, not sleeping on the floor with your brothers.’ I hug him tightly, feeling the scratch of his beard on my cheek as I kiss him back on the cheek.

My Papa is one of the most handsome men I've ever met. At 42 his hair is mahogony brown and merely speckled with grey with a few wrinkles around his eyes and laughter lines framing his mouth. His beard is always neat and his blue eyes sparkle when he smile; but they dazzle when he smiles at Mama.

Mama was 16 when she married Papa, he was 24 and ‘the catch of the county’ or so I'm told. He fell for Mama; a 16 year old with auburn, red-brown hair, dark brown eyes and a smile that broke hearts. A handsome couple by anyone's standards.

‘Ach Papa would you stop! No one wants me; I’m a better worker than I would be a wife! Anyway what would these little ruffians do without me to entertain?’ I tickle Jack and Bobby who squeal and wriggle out my grasp into Papa’s strong safe arms.

‘Coats! Now boys! I’ve told Mr Avital we'll be at mass he’ll not tell stories to little boys who are late for mass!’ They jump up and pull on their coats and boots and race out of the door. I follow them outside, wrapping my shawl around me towards the church. Our neighbours emerged from their cottages and as a herd we slipped and slid our way towards the church for Sunday mass.

The twins sidled in beside Mr Avital, one on either side and sat quietly and behaved well throughout the service.

'Caireann, Caireann! Oh, sorry for the intrusion...' Father Cassidy thankfully interrupts Diathi Bandera's continued attempt at asking to court me and ushers him away to discuss a 'private matter' with me.

'Yes Father, is everything alright? Mass was lovely today.' He smiles kindly at me and takes my hand sliding into it a folded piece of paper with a wax seal on it. I turn it over in my hand and look at him expectantly.

'I'm ever so sorry Caireann, I just need you to take this to town, to the Bishop's house for me this afternoon? Mr Amendola is very unwell and I must attend him this afternoon but I need to get this note to Bishop Giunee as soon as possible and I don't have a messanger today.' His eyes plead with me as if he think's I'll refuse, which I couldnt ever do.

I smile at him warmly to ease his concern, 'Of course Father, I'll go straight away. I'll just let Mama know I'll be home later.' I turn on my heel and hear Father Cassidy muttering under his breath, 'Ah she's a great girl that one!'