Freda Mills 

Jackie

Novel extract

Chapter Seven

1965

Cork City, Ireland

It was Christmas Eve. The perfect time to do it. 

When Jackie got home from work, he was relieved to have the house to himself. Visiting the crib on Christmas Eve was the Ryan family tradition – even the staff at Ford’s knew that Jim never worked past one o’clock on Christmas Eve. His mam had been upset that Jackie wouldn’t make it, but this year, he had more important things to do. 

He made himself a cup of tea, buttered a slice of his mam’s soda bread and took both upstairs, eating the bread as he walked. He showered quickly and put on his good trousers and his best shirt. He downed the last of the tea and thanked God once again that his family weren’t there. If his mam had seen him dressed like this, there was no way he could have left without questioning. He combed his hair in the bathroom, checking it in the mirror as he did. He dipped his fingers under the cold water and ran them through the front and sides. He was ready. 

At the front door, Jackie pulled on his good jacket. He’d saved for months to afford it; the grey wool three button blazer Mary had admired as they’d walked through Cork City during the summer. ‘You’d look handsome in that,’ she’d said. 

He hesitated for a moment, looking at the one photo of his parents that stood on the hall table in a simple rectangular silver frame. His mam and dad adored each other. He went into the kitchen and poured a glass of water. His hand was shaking as he lifted the glass. In that moment, he wished his dad was there. One glance at his watch, however, and he was out the front door. Timing was everything. 

Jackie hadn’t seen Mary in over two weeks. She’d told him at the beginning of December that she’d have to keep her head down in the lead up to the Christmas exams. Leaving Certificate year. It was an important time for Mary. Jackie made sure to give her the space she needed. But at the same time, he wanted her to know how he felt about her. 

How he really felt.

During those two weeks, Jackie had missed Mary. A lot. Afternoons in the workshop were long without her visits and he had spent the past two Friday nights cooped up at home. On one or two occasions, he had been tempted to wait for her outside the school after one of her papers, but decided against it each time. It would be better to wait until her exams were finished. 

He found himself daydreaming about her; memories of kissing her in the workshop mixed in with fantasies of running his hands up her legs in the back of his car. Her legs were perfect; the inside of her thighs were so soft. The sensation of brushing his hands against her underwear, every time the most incredible feeling as he pressed his hand underneath. He remembered back to that night in Charlie’s, seeing Mary properly for the first time, without any underwear. The thoughts distracted him, made it difficult for him to focus on his work.  

Most of all though, he missed her company. 

Mary was the easiest person to be around. It didn’t matter if Jackie was wearing his dirty boilersuit, or dressed up for a Friday night date, he always felt at ease around her. When he spoke to Michael, he held back, expecting the slagging that was so typical of his friend. He had a great relationship with his parents, but then how could he tell his mam or dad that he wanted so much more than they could ever give him? When Jackie had told Mary about his dreams for the future, she’d simply said, ‘You’ll do it. I know you will.’ The previous week, he’d messed up a pretty big job for one of his regular customers. Since then, he’d been having doubts about his plans to move to a bigger workshop. He needed to hear Mary’s reassuring words again. At night as he lay in bed, he pictured her beside him, whispering those same words. ‘You’ll do it. I know you will.’ But it wasn’t the same. 

The summer had been incredible. Mary’s parents had given her a bit more freedom than usual before her final year and so Jackie had been lucky to spend most of his spare time with her. It was the best three months of his life. They’d cycled to Crosshaven, had picnics in Fitzgerald’s Park, gone for afternoon cinema dates, and taken the train to Cobh. 

One of his favourite memories from the summer was their trip to Youghal. Jackie had known, long before their first date back in April even, that Mary was special. As the months went on, Jackie was certain that Mary was the one; the person he wanted to build his life with. But it was during that trip to Youghal beach that Jackie understood that the feeling was mutual. 

*

It was the August bank holiday weekend. The hottest day of the year. They took the train to Youghal. Mary wore the red dress that Jackie loved. The dress itself was loosely fitted, except for around the chest where it pulled in a bit tighter, mildly showing the shape of her breasts. He had wanted to hold her hand on that train journey so badly, but there were too many people around. They stepped off the train and onto the platform amid the hustle and bustle of other beachgoers, all travelling up from the city for the day. Mary brought a little bag with her which Jackie insisted on carrying. Eileen had given them tomato and onion sandwiches, and Jim had made up a flask of tea. ‘Be sure to drink lots of water too,’ Eileen had said. ‘And don’t forget to put on your sun cream.’ When they arrived at the station, they let the crowds pass, Jackie resting his hand on the small of Mary’s back as they did, then walked the ten-minute stretch to the beach, hand in hand. 

Most of the morning had been spent in and out of the water. Jackie couldn’t take his eyes off of Mary in her red and white polka dot bathing suit. He had seen one or two girls on the beach wearing a two-piece swimsuit, but Mary wore a one piece that covered her stomach. She told Jackie there was no way she’d ever show off her stomach in public, especially with a priest walking up and down the beach keeping an eye on everyone. Jackie didn’t mind. He liked the thought of being the only one allowed to see that part of Mary.

She floated beside him in the sea, the sun sending a shimmer across her entire body. He swam around her and listened as she told him about the places she wanted to travel to after she became a doctor. Her father had brought a friend to dinner one time, a visiting doctor from Germany. Throughout the dinner, Dr. Bauer had spoken about her home town of Heppenheim, about the families she worked with, and the sense of community that they shared. Mary wanted to begin her travels there. ‘I’ll only work abroad on short trips though,’ she had added, ‘a couple of times a year. My specialty will be in histopathology so most of my work will be here, in Cork.’ She smiled at Jackie then. Her green eyes had never looked so beautiful. 

After their swim, they moved to the far end of the beach, right down to the end, where no one else could see them. Though the edge wasn’t very pretty, it was more stones than sand, it felt good to be alone, away from the crowds. They stretched out side by side on a shared towel. Jackie rested his hand on Mary’s thigh, and she snuggled into him. Afternoon moved towards evening. The far-off din of shouts and shrieks from the beach quietened as families began to leave, the sound of waves lapping onto the beach getting louder. 

‘You know Jackie, I really love this.’

Jackie sighed and put one hand behind his head. ‘Me too. We should spend all our weekends at the beach.’

Mary laughed and flicked a bit of sand onto his chest. ‘Yeah that, but I meant us. I love us.’

Jackie wrapped his arm around Mary then, really paying attention now. Her cheeks were pink. He brushed a wet curl behind her ear. ‘Mary, this is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.’ The words burst out of him, more rushed than he had hoped. 

Mary squeezed Jackie’s hand. ‘Do you think we’ll… I mean…’ She blushed. ‘Anyway, it’s just really great, and… I’m mad about you.’ 

Jackie smiled and pulled Mary onto him, so that her legs were wrapped around his waist. ‘If you’re asking me if I think we’ll last, the answer is yes.’

Mary beamed at Jackie and put her hands on the sides of his face. Their foreheads pressed against each other. Their lips met and they kissed slowly, gently, then with an intensity that made Jackie wish more than anything that they were the only two people on the beach. Mary’s weight pressing against him felt so good. His heart raced. He breathed into Mary’s neck as he spoke.

‘My God Mary, I love you so much.’

Mary’s voice was a whisper. ‘I love you so much too, Jackie Ryan.’

*

Jackie hadn’t told anyone about what he planned to do. His parents wouldn’t understand. Though they liked Mary, they reminded him constantly that she was ‘only seventeen’. Michael would have just laughed. But he’d imagined this moment, night after night, for months. He knew they were young. They both had so much ahead of them. Jackie would build up his business, he’d have a successful garage of his own. Mary would study to become a doctor, maybe have her clinic. They’d do all of this together; they’d be married. Mr and Mrs Ryan. 

Jackie had thought about their children. Mary had once joked that she wanted five kids. Jackie wasn’t sure about that, from his own experience, but he’d definitely like one or two. If they were anything like Mary, maybe he’d have more. 

Once they were married, they’d rent a room somewhere to begin with. They’d save enough to rent a place of their own, and then the next step would be to buy. It would depend on where Jackie’s garage was, of course, and Mary’s clinic, but he’d like to live somewhere along the Western Road. That way they’d be close to both Jackie’s and Mary’s parents, and even though Mary had once said that living in a big house wasn’t important to her, Jackie felt it was only right, considering the house she grew up in. 

Mary had once told him that Christmas was her favourite time of the year. She believed that magical things happened during this time, that anything was possible. When she had listed off the events organised for the coming Christmas, she mentioned that her parents would be attending the Chamber of Commerce cheese and wine evening on Christmas Eve from five o’clock on. Mary added that she planned to use the time at home alone to wrap presents for her mother and father, which she would then hide around the house. She made Jackie promise not to tell anyone that she still did that at seventeen.   

Jackie closed the front door behind him and headed down Pearse Lane, turning left onto St. Anthony’s Road. The main street was humming with people collecting turkeys and purchasing last minute items. Children pointed excitedly at twinkling lights that hung across shopfronts. A group of carol singers from the local primary school stood outside Canty’s pub singing Away in a Manger. Normally Jackie would have thrown something into the bucket, but he was in a rush. 

He made his way straight to Fiona’s Flowers, the last shop on the main road. He pushed the door open to the sound of a jingle from the rusty bell hanging overhead and was hit by the overwhelming scent. It was the first time he’d ever set foot in a flower shop. Bright red roses glared up at him from vases beside his foot. He considered backing out when Carol popped up from behind the counter, scissors in one hand, a Christmas wreath in the other. She wiped her brow and beamed.

‘Jackie Ryan. I’ve never seen you in here before. Who’s the lucky girl?’

Jackie stuck his hands into his pockets and smiled.

‘Carol, how are you keeping? I didn’t know you were working here, but then I should have guessed.’

‘I know. My mam has me here night and day sure. Slavery is what it is.’ She rolled her eyes and laid the wreath onto the counter. ‘What can I get you Jackie? Did your mam send you over?’

‘No, I just need to pick up some flowers. Something pretty…whatever you think.’

Carol nodded. ‘Yeah, okay. I think I can help you with that.’ 

While Carol moved towards the flowers at the front of the shop, Jackie eyed himself in the small mirror beside the counter. He brushed his hair back and straightened the collar of his shirt.  

‘Are you looking forward to tomorrow Jackie? Máire must be all excited is she? Sure the others are probably too old for the Santa stuff?’

‘Ah yeah they’re all excited. They’re gone off up to see the crib.’ Jackie looked at his watch. 

‘The crib is beautiful this year, it’s been freshly repainted. I went up to the church myself last night for a quick look.’ She tied a knot around the bunch of red roses and handed them to Jackie. ‘There you are Jackie, I hope whoever gets them enjoys.’ She gave him a wink. ‘Two shillings so, when you’re ready.’

The bell on the shop door rung again and Mrs Doyle bustled in, a large bag in each hand making her entrance an awkward one. She beamed as soon as she saw Jackie. 

‘Ah Jackie, how are you getting on? Did you finish up early for Christmas Eve? You’re dead right.’

Jackie handed his two shillings to Carol and took the flowers, his face hot as he did. ‘I did Mrs. Doyle. Are you all set for tomorrow?’

Mrs. Doyle was grinning now, her eyes on the roses as she spoke. 

‘I am, sure it’ll just be myself and George. But never mind me, how’s that beautiful girl of yours?’

‘She’s good. I’m heading off to see her now.’ He looked at his watch again. 

Mrs Doyle picked up her bags energetically and moved towards the counter as if suddenly on a mission. ‘Oh go on, I won’t keep you – nobody should get in the way of young love.’ Jackie waved and turned to leave. As he did, he caught a smile pass between Mrs. Doyle and Carol. He wondered what they would say after he left. He looked at the flowers in his hand, and continued on his way. 

The walk to Mary’s took twenty-five minutes. He’d done it so many times, although he never actually went right to the door. He usually met Mary on the bridge next to the University, and that was always as far as he’d go whenever he walked Mary home. It was on that bridge that he and Mary had their first kiss. And it would be to that bridge, in just over twenty-five minutes, that he’d bring Mary, to propose. He felt for the ring in his pocket again, just to be sure. First, he had to call for her at the house. He knew Mary’s house, of course. He knew College Avenue well from his childhood days as a paper boy. 

Jackie had never met Mary’s parents, but from the way Mary spoke about them, they sounded great. Mary’s dad had been in the paper once, after he received an award for his surgical achievements in the Bons Secours Hospital. Her mam had always been hugely supportive of Mary’s dreams, and had begun calling her Dr. Fitzpatrick around the house. They were a close family, and Jackie could tell how important it was to Mary to make her parents proud. Mary told Jackie at the start of September that she’d hinted to her parents there was someone in her life. She never told Jackie any more after that. He wondered how they had reacted. When asked, Mary said he’d meet them when the time was right. 

The University grounds were quiet that afternoon. Festive lights shone brightly on the edges of the campus. He paused for a moment on the bridge and gazed over at the chimneys of the mansions on College Avenue. Even now, at twenty years of age, the childhood amazement at seeing those houses for the first time remained. He pictured Mary in the sitting room. He imagined her wrapping presents for her parents, The Supremes playing on the record player. 

He crossed the road, dodging a cyclist who was carrying his child on the cross bar, and walked through the entrance of College Avenue. Luckily, the gates were open. He paused for a second and drew a deep breath. He patted his pocket, then brushed down the front of his jacket. Most of the houses in the estate were lit up brightly against the dark winter evening which was already setting in. Jackie glimpsed a small party underway in the house directly across from Mary’s. The curtains were open and six or seven people were milling around holding what looked like champagne glasses in their hands. The houses on either side of Mary’s were lit up too, and smoke billowed from the chimneys. 

Mary’s house was in darkness.

Jackie moved up the path and climbed the steps towards the front door, the flowers suddenly awkward in his hand. He wondered if Mary had changed her mind and gone to the party with her parents, although he knew that wasn’t her kind of thing. Maybe she’d gone out with friends. 

He knocked on the door once, then rang the doorbell. 

The curtains of the window to the left of the front door were closed, but the ones to the right were open. He hopped down from the step and pressed his forehead against the cold pane. 

He pulled his face away and stood frozen to the spot. He looked around at the other houses, their lights now hurting his eyes and making him feel sick. He returned again and peered inside once more needing to confirm what he had just seen.

The sitting room was empty.

There was nothing in there. A vast open space. No table, no chairs. The purple velvet sofa was gone along with the record player that once sat in the corner. The picture frames had been removed; perfectly rectangular stains left instead. Even the chandelier had been taken down. All of the things that he glimpsed through the window, craned his neck to see, in those days as a paperboy; all of those things were gone. Everything was gone. 

Jackie steadied himself against the window sill and tried to draw a breath. 

‘Are you all right there young man?’

He looked up to see an elderly woman poking her head out of the front door of the house next to Mary’s.

‘I said are you all right, love?’

Jackie knew he should walk over to her, but his legs wouldn’t move.  

‘I… I…,’ he looked at the house, then back again at the woman. ‘I was looking for Mary. I thought… she’d be here, I thought she…’

The woman’s head tilted to the side. ‘Oh you poor pet.’ She shook her head. ‘It was the strangest thing, love. We woke up yesterday morning, my husband and I, to the sound of moving vans. I’d say it wasn’t even eight o’clock. Anyway, I went straight out and asked them what was going on. Two men there were. They didn’t know anything about who lived there, they said they were just doing a job – picking up boxes to be moved. I only spoke to Daniel and Elizabeth last week, they never said a thing.’

She took a step towards Jackie, then stopped. 

‘I’m sorry love. I don’t know what else to tell you.’

Jackie waved a hand slowly, as if trying to clear the fog that was forming right in front of his eyes. ‘Did they say… or did they, did Mary…’ His breath was shallow. He knew he wasn’t making any sense. ‘It’s okay. It’s okay. Yeah, I’d… I’d better go.’ He turned to leave. ‘Thank you.’

‘You’re all right love. You take care now. And Happy Christmas.’

‘Yeah, Happy Christmas to you too.’

Jackie barely remembered the walk home. The flowers were gone but he wasn’t sure at what point he’d dropped them. There was a buzzing sound in his ears. His head hurt. He was already at the Lough but he couldn’t recall passing the bridge, or even the University. Had he gone that way? He kept going; everything around him was a blur. He tripped over a crack in the footpath and was confused when a group of young girls across the road started laughing. One of them called out to him, ‘Are you drunk?’ 

He looked up and saw the church ahead, stunned to realise he was already almost home. Someone called his name.

‘Jackie? Jackie are you deaf?’

Michael and Maggie walked towards him, hand in hand, laughter on their faces. 

‘Jesus Jackie you’re in your own world.’ Michael gave his friend a playful punch in the arm. ‘Are you all right?’

Maggie’s eyebrows furrowed. ‘We’re just heading in to see the crib Jackie – if you want to join us. Or if you’re meeting Mary later we could all go together then? What do you think? Jackie?’

Jackie was staring straight ahead. His face was white. 

‘She’s gone.’

Michael looked from Maggie back to Jackie. ‘What are you on about Jackie?’

‘She’s gone. Mary’s gone.’