Sister's Trio Squad

Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

The Saloon comprised of a room that covered most of the space between the deck and the cargo hold. It was furnished with wooden, bench-type seats, set in double rows with passageways between them, but around the sides the seating was a little more comfortable, due to the superstructure forming a back to the benches. However, there was nothing remotely luxurious about the Saloon and little thought had been given to the comfort of passengers paying Steerage fare.

It was already filling up, but with her characteristic, single-mindedness, Nancy headed straight for a corner that was still empty. Ignoring all the curses and comments as she shoved her way through the crowd, she plumped herself down on the seat, dumping her valise at her feet. The other two sat eith side of her.

The train journey from home had been interminably slow and tedious and darkness had fallen when they had finally arrived in Dublin. There hadn't even been time to see any of the 'sights'. Never having been to the Capital before, this omission had increased Nancy's irritability, until Margaret had reminded her that they were leaving a City devastated by four years of war and that the 'sights' would only be shattered buildings and piles of rubble. And had she forgotten already that even the General Post Office in O'Connell Street was still a burnt-out shell? Her words had brought a sigh of relief from Lisa, who had no wish to be reminded of the horrors.

They had eaten the sandwiches and soda bread Sarah had given them, neatly parcelled in a piece of slightly damp, clean cloth to keep them fresh, and now they were all hungry and thirsty.

'We should have saved the soda bread.'

'Didn't I say just that, but no, it was you who insisted on eating it,

Lisa jumped edgily as the loud blast of the Connaught's siren announced their departure from Dublin. "They must

sell something to eat. They sell drinks, after all. I'll go and see.'

As she disappeared into the crowd, Margaret picked

up her bag and put it on the seat beside her, in case anyone

should think it vacant. The room was crowded with people

now. All with a single purpose, to escape from the growing violence. They were weary of years of war, afraid to lose yet more husbands, fathers and sons, for there were many families amongst them that consisted of just women and children. Children already fractious and confused.

'We'll get no sleep tonight! Would you just listen to the noise out of them already.'

'Nancy, will you stop harping on! We've got to give Aunt Maura fifteen shillings for our keep until we get a job, and the rest we'll need for expenses.' Margaret's exhaustion had begun to take its toll on her nerves. 'So the sooner we get work the better. You have still got the address?"

'Don't I know it from memory! Eighteen, Lancaster Street, Walton. It's just before you get to the Hospital, by Rice Lane Police Station." Margaret nodded, satisfied, then reached out to

remove her bag as Lisa approached.

'I've got us a bottle of lemonade each. They don't have food at all and look who I found!' Lisa was clutching three small bottles and one glass, while behind her stood a girl of her own age. 'It's Bernie O'Hagan, don't you remember her? We were in the same class?"

Forgetting her intended complaints about the lack of food, Nancy looked closely at the girl. Oh, she remem bered Bernadette O'Hagan all right. Who could forget the O'Hagans? Little better than tinkers they were, living in a broken-down cottage near the old House of Industry on the road to Cahir. As far as she could remember, Bernie was the only one who ever went to school at all. She had hordes of sisters and brothers and cousins, all with runny noses - winter and summer bare feet, grubby faces and tattered clothes. She'd heard her Ma say that none of the girls had any drawers even and wasn't that a sin altogether?

Bernie certainly looked different now, Nancy thought, taking in the fashionable, but rather gaudy, deep purple coat, the black cloche hat and gloves to match. Gloves! She almost laughed aloud. Bernie O'Hagan with gloves! Instead she sniffed depreciatingly. On closer scrutiny the coat was of a very cheap material and the gloves were only cotton. Obviously the whole lot hadn't come from the likes of Grafton Street in Dublin.

Lisa handed out the bottles. 'If we push up a bit she can sit beside me."

'Couldn't the barman count? There's only one glass. Are we expected to drink it out of the bottle?' Nancy retorted, grudgingly moving an inch or two further along the seat.

'He said he could only spare us one and would we please take it back when we've finished with it as he has to account for them all.'

'What does he think we are? Thieves or tinkers?"

Lisa jabbed her in the ribs with her elbow.

'Fancy you being on the same boat, then, Bernie,' Margaret intervened. 'Come to think of it, I've not seen you in town for ages."

Bernie smiled and deliberately smoothed the backs of the gloves. 'Oh, I'd had enough of that lot, so I up an' left and went to Dublin.'

'I don't blame you. I don't know how you all fitted in to that house. What have you been doing in Dublin, then?" Lisa was openly curious to find out what miracle had been wrought on her former classmate.

'At the start I went into service, as a kitchen maid, but I soon left there, that I did! It was worse than home. Then I got a job in a shop.'

What kind of a shop? Nancy cut in. As far as she could remember Bernie O'Hagan couldn't even add up two and two and get four.

'A grocers, but I didn't stay there either. Holy Mary! I couldn't stand them old shawlies complainin' about how I'd overcharged them or underweighed their ha'penny worth of tea."

She didn't seem to have stuck anywhere for long, Nancy thought, sipping the warmish lemonade and trying to look

disinterested. "Then I worked in a hotel. Well, it was more a sort of boardin' house-c*m-bar really."

That sounded more her style, Nancy thought. 'One down

by the Liffey, on the Quays, I suppose?' she asked, sweetly

sarcastic.

Again Lisa jabbed her.

'Lisa, will you keep still or you'll have this all down the front of me!'

'It was, too, and that's where I met my Archie." 'Who's he?' Lisa asked. Nancy wasn't the only one who had noticed the cheap finery.

'We're "walkin' out", and that's why I'm off to Glasgow.

My Archie's goin' to get me a job there."

"Then wouldn't it have been quicker to have gone from

Belfast?'

Bernie seemed to ponder Margaret's question, then she nodded. 'I suppose it would, but Archie said I might as well see Liverpool and a bit of England. He gave me the money. "See a wee bit o' the country, Hen, but dinna be too lang about it." She tried to imitate the Glaswegian accent and failed. No one noticed.

Despite feigned disinterest, Nancy found herself being drawn into the conversation. 'And what does he do, this Archie?'

'He works in engineering, what else would anyone do

in Glasgow?' I'm sure I wouldn't be knowing, not being interested in such things. I intend to go into the theatre."

'Oh, and are you all goin' into "the theatre" then?" Bernie

made it sound the most degrading of professions.

'No, only Nancy. She's the one with the talent. Don't you remember she always sang when anyone important came to school and she's even sung at Kilsheelan Castle!' Bernie chose to ignore this. 'So what will you do,

Lisa?' 'I want to work in one of the big stores, selling furs or hats or model gowns. But I don't just want a job, I want a career.' That sounded more impressive than going into 'the theatre', and Bernie was looking at her admiringly. We're going to stay with Ma's sister and her husband,' Lisa added.