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Authors: Sinéad Moriarty
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at college you had loads of work to do, with massive essays called theses, and I had no interest in that. Besides, I didn’t want to go and live in Ireland. I loved London – it was vibrant and cutting-edge. Rock stars lived in London, for goodness’ sake.
I decided to remain silent for the rest of the journey home. My mother was driving like a lunatic, swerving all over the road as she thumped the steering-wheel and repeated over and over, ‘Stupid girl, stupid girl.’ I actually began to feel sorry for Siobhan. My father must be giving her an awful roasting.
When we got home, he and Siobhan were sitting in the front room. Siobhan’s face was puffy and blotched from crying and she looked shattered. I went over and gave her a hug. It was awkward and I felt a bit embarrassed, but she clung to me like a terrified child, so I was glad I’d made the effort. Eventually I prised her hands off my back and sat down. Finn had gone to Leeds to play in some hurley league, so he was spared the drama.
It was only when I glanced at my father that the magnitude of what was happening hit me. He had aged ten years in one morning. He was utterly deflated, like a man who has lost everything. He sat in his favourite chair, shoulders hunched, head down, sobbing into his big white hankie. I knew then that I might as well pack it all in and join a nunnery. My social life, which hadn’t even begun, was never going to happen now. As I tried to picture myself in a nun’s habit the doorbell rang out ‘Danny Boy’.
It was Uncle Tadhg and Auntie Nuala. They were brilliant. Auntie Nuala hugged my mother, then my father, Siobhan and even me. She said loudly, and a little too cheerfully, ‘It’s like a bloody morgue in here. Come on, now, no one’s dead. We’ll sort this out,’ and squeezed my mother’s hand. Mum smiled gratefully. She needed Auntie Nuala. She was too shell-shocked to think straight.
Uncle Tadhg went over and thumped my father awkwardly on the back – displays of brotherly affection were strictly post a tumbler or two of whiskey. ‘Come on now, Mick, don’t be getting yourself into a state. It’ll be OK. We’re all here for you.’
‘It’s a bloody mess,’ said my father. ‘A disgrace. I’ve broken my back working to give my children a better life, a good education, food on the table and a roof over their heads, and what do they do? Bring shame on me.’
I wanted to interrupt and point out that it was only Siobhan who was pregnant, not me, but decided to keep quiet.
‘Thank God my poor mother didn’t live to see this. My eldest and finest pregnant at seventeen out of wedlock. We should never have left Ireland. I’ve sweated and toiled for this family and sent my daughters to convent schools to be educated by the nuns and what do they do? Behave like wanton women.’
‘Ah, now, Mick,’ said my mother.
‘Hussies, I tell you,’ shouted my father. ‘Well, I won’t stand for it. You’re going to marry that young fella and that’s the end of it. You can forget your fancy notions about going to college because you’re spoilt now. You’ll have to leave school without even doing your exams. My God, I’ll be the laughing-stock of the community. How could you be so stupid?’
‘Stop it now, Mick,’ said Auntie Nuala, coming over to comfort Siobhan, who was shaking and sobbing. ‘Siobhan’s life is not ruined and it’s not over. I’m not saying this is an ideal situation and she has been silly, but these things can be fixed.’
As she said ‘fixed’, she raised her eyebrows at my mother, who shook her head. Auntie Nuala stood up and said she could murder a cup of tea, and the two women went into the kitchen, leaving my father to rant about this country having no morals and how it had rubbed off on his daughters. I was sick of being tarred with Siobhan’s brush so I followed my mother and Auntie Nuala and took up my position under the stairs where I could hear everything.
‘Annie, listen to
I decided to remain silent for the rest of the journey home. My mother was driving like a lunatic, swerving all over the road as she thumped the steering-wheel and repeated over and over, ‘Stupid girl, stupid girl.’ I actually began to feel sorry for Siobhan. My father must be giving her an awful roasting.
When we got home, he and Siobhan were sitting in the front room. Siobhan’s face was puffy and blotched from crying and she looked shattered. I went over and gave her a hug. It was awkward and I felt a bit embarrassed, but she clung to me like a terrified child, so I was glad I’d made the effort. Eventually I prised her hands off my back and sat down. Finn had gone to Leeds to play in some hurley league, so he was spared the drama.
It was only when I glanced at my father that the magnitude of what was happening hit me. He had aged ten years in one morning. He was utterly deflated, like a man who has lost everything. He sat in his favourite chair, shoulders hunched, head down, sobbing into his big white hankie. I knew then that I might as well pack it all in and join a nunnery. My social life, which hadn’t even begun, was never going to happen now. As I tried to picture myself in a nun’s habit the doorbell rang out ‘Danny Boy’.
It was Uncle Tadhg and Auntie Nuala. They were brilliant. Auntie Nuala hugged my mother, then my father, Siobhan and even me. She said loudly, and a little too cheerfully, ‘It’s like a bloody morgue in here. Come on, now, no one’s dead. We’ll sort this out,’ and squeezed my mother’s hand. Mum smiled gratefully. She needed Auntie Nuala. She was too shell-shocked to think straight.
Uncle Tadhg went over and thumped my father awkwardly on the back – displays of brotherly affection were strictly post a tumbler or two of whiskey. ‘Come on now, Mick, don’t be getting yourself into a state. It’ll be OK. We’re all here for you.’
‘It’s a bloody mess,’ said my father. ‘A disgrace. I’ve broken my back working to give my children a better life, a good education, food on the table and a roof over their heads, and what do they do? Bring shame on me.’
I wanted to interrupt and point out that it was only Siobhan who was pregnant, not me, but decided to keep quiet.
‘Thank God my poor mother didn’t live to see this. My eldest and finest pregnant at seventeen out of wedlock. We should never have left Ireland. I’ve sweated and toiled for this family and sent my daughters to convent schools to be educated by the nuns and what do they do? Behave like wanton women.’
‘Ah, now, Mick,’ said my mother.
‘Hussies, I tell you,’ shouted my father. ‘Well, I won’t stand for it. You’re going to marry that young fella and that’s the end of it. You can forget your fancy notions about going to college because you’re spoilt now. You’ll have to leave school without even doing your exams. My God, I’ll be the laughing-stock of the community. How could you be so stupid?’
‘Stop it now, Mick,’ said Auntie Nuala, coming over to comfort Siobhan, who was shaking and sobbing. ‘Siobhan’s life is not ruined and it’s not over. I’m not saying this is an ideal situation and she has been silly, but these things can be fixed.’
As she said ‘fixed’, she raised her eyebrows at my mother, who shook her head. Auntie Nuala stood up and said she could murder a cup of tea, and the two women went into the kitchen, leaving my father to rant about this country having no morals and how it had rubbed off on his daughters. I was sick of being tarred with Siobhan’s brush so I followed my mother and Auntie Nuala and took up my position under the stairs where I could hear everything.
‘Annie, listen to
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