‘But what if it was one of ours?’ Furlong said.
‘This is the very thing I’m saying,’ she said, rising again. ‘Tis not one of ours.’
‘Isn’t it a good job Mrs Wilson didn’t share your ideas?’ Furlong looked at her. ‘Where would my mother have gone? Where would I be now?’
‘Weren’t Mrs Wilson’s cares far from any of ours?’ Eileen said. ‘Sitting out in that big house with her pension and a farm of land and your mother and Ned working under her. Was she not one of the few women on this earth who could do as she pleased?’
5
On Christmas week, snow was forecast. Knowing the yard would be closed for ten days or so, people panicked and called in their last-minute orders complaining, when they did get through, that they had not been able to get through on the telephone. On top of that, the last shipment of the year was late coming in, and due to be collected off the quay. Furlong left Kathleen, who was off from school, in charge of the office while he made the out-of-town deliveries, collecting as much as he could of what was owed. When he came back, at lunchtime, Kathleen had the next loads organised and the dockets ready so there would be only a small delay while he got a bite to eat before delivering more.
On the Saturday, when he got back from the morning round, Kathleen looked fed up, but they were down now to the last batch of orders. She handed him the dockets, saying a big order had just come in from the convent.
‘I’ll go on out now and tell them to get this one ready before evening,’ Furlong said. ‘I’ll deliver it myself in the morning.’
‘Tomorrow’s Sunday, Daddy.’
‘What choice have I? We’re more than full on Monday – and then it’s the half-day on Christmas Eve.’
He didn’t bother with lunch, just swallowed a mug of tea with a handful of biscuits, feeling the urgency to get back out, but he paused to warm himself for a minute at the gas heater. The heater on the lorry was giving out, and his legs and feet were cold.
‘Are you warm enough in here, Kathleen?’
She was sorting the invoices but seemed at a loss to find a space, to put them down.
‘I’m all right, Daddy.’
‘You’re all right?’
‘I’m grand,’ she said.
‘Have any of these men been giving you guff while I was out?’
‘No.’
‘If so, you have to tell me.’
‘There’s nothing like that, Daddy. Honest.’
‘Swear to God.’
‘I swear to God.’
‘What, then?’
She turned away and stiffened with the papers in her hand.
‘What’s the matter, a leanbh?’
She pushed the copy of the convent order down on the spike.
‘I just want to go out with my friends to the shops now before they close and see the lights and try on jeans, but Mammy called down earlier and says I have to go with her to the dentist.’
*
The next morning, when Furlong woke and lifted the curtain, the sky looked strange and close with a few, dim stars. On the street, a dog was licking something from a tin can, pushing it noisily across the frozen pavement with his nose. Already the crows were out, sidling along and letting out short, hoarse caws and longer, fluent kaaahs as though they found the world more or less objectionable. One stood tearing at a pizza box, holding the cardboard down with his foot and pecking, suspiciously, at what was there before flapping his wings and quickly flying off with a crust in his beak. Dapper, some of the others looked, striding along, inspecting the ground and their surroundings with their wings tucked in, putting Furlong in mind of the young curate who liked to walk about town with his hands behind his back.
Eileen was fast asleep, and for a while he watched over her, feeling the need of her, letting his gaze idle over her bare shoulder, her open, sleeping hands, the soot-black darkness of her hair against the pillowslip. The longing to stay, to reach out and touch her was deep, but he took his shirt and trousers from the chair and dressed in the dark, without her waking.
Before going downstairs, he went in to check on Kathleen, who was sleeping after having a tooth pulled. Beside her, Joan stirred a little and turned over, and let out a sigh. In the far bed, Loretta was wide awake. Furlong didn’t so much see as sense her eyes shining, through the gloom.
‘Are you all right, pet?’ Furlong whispered.
‘Yes, Daddy.’
‘I’ve to go out now. I’ll not be long.’
‘Do you have to go?’