Finishing Touches (18 page)

Not that she was becoming a recluse or anything like it. Laura fitted in well at UCD. She liked being part of campus life. It was great crack and some of the parties she went to were brilliant.
She had joined the debating society and enjoyed nothing more than a good rousing debate. No-one could get the better of Laura in a debate. She had proven her mettle as a speaker. But she knew she
had to get all her exams first time. She wouldn’t have the luxury of taking repeats if she failed. If she wanted to make her way in the world she had to get her degree and find a job quickly.
After that she could have the most hectic social life in the world!

Laura gave a huge yawn. Mind, it was hard going making your way in the world. She worked three nights a week until 12.30 a.m. in a restaurant in Wicklow Street.
And
she did part-time
work in a newsagents on Sundays. It was difficult enough working, studying and trying to have a bit of a social life as well but she was coping, and she was happier than she had ever been in her
life. She was as free as a bird, answerable to nobody except herself. What more could a woman ask for? If only Cassie and Aileen could be with her and they could get a nice little flat together,
everything would be perfect.

Nora stood at the sink, washing up after breakfast. The house was so quiet this morning. All the children had gone back to school and Cassie was gone to Dublin to take up her
new job. Jack would have been so proud of Cassie getting the bank. Nora’s eyes smarted and an aching loneliness overwhelmed her. She started to cry. Oh Jack! Jack! I miss you, she wept
silently, tears streaming down her cheeks and plopping into the sudsy water. Why did you leave me all alone? She tried to keep up a brave face for the children but sometimes it was impossible.

Today she felt really alone for some reason. Probably because Cassie was gone up to Dublin. Well, she’d have to get used to not having her coming in from school, helping to dish up the
dinner and sharing a gossip with her over a cup of tea. From this on it would be late in the evenings when Cassie got home. It was a long old trek into and out of the city. Nora sighed. She knew
Cassie had her heart set on getting a flat with Laura. But she was so young to be out in the world alone. Cassie kept saying she was eighteen. But eighteen wasn’t old enough to be living on
your own in a strange city. You had only to open the papers and read about attacks on women and muggings and robberies to know that Dublin was not a safe place to live in. At least in Port Mahon
there was very little crime and you could walk the streets in safety. What the Quinns were thinking of allowing Laura to live up there in digs was beyond Nora. But then, of course, Laura was
headstrong. And if all she heard was true, Peter Quinn was a difficult man to live with. But Cassie had no family problems. Why on earth would she want to be going up to Dublin, to live in God
knows what kind of a flat, having to cook her own dinner and do her own washing, when she had a fine, warm, comfortable home to come to, with her mother having her meals cooked for her when she
came in and all her washing done for her as well? Nora shook her head in mystification as she washed the marmalade dish.

And then to have Elsie of all people telling her that she should allow Cassie to go and live in Dublin and make her own way in life. Nora had been stunned!

‘You don’t want her to end up like me,’ Elsie had challenged her, much to her younger sister’s surprise. ‘An old maid who did nothing with her life. I should have
left home and got a job when Anthony died during the war. But I stayed at home with Mother and never went anywhere and never did anything, and many is the time I regret it. Don’t bind Cassie
to you, Nora. You depend on her too much as it is.’ Nora had felt like telling her to shut up and mind her own business and not be interfering.

Deep down she knew there was some truth in what her eldest sister was saying. But, God above, she didn’t want Cassie to leave home. Not yet, at any rate. Maybe in a couple of years. Maybe
when she was twenty-one. Nora’s eyes brightened. That wouldn’t be for another three years. Tonight when Cassie got home she would tell her that she would let her go to Dublin and live
in a flat when she was twenty-one. That would solve all the problems and cheer Cassie up. A thought struck her. Wouldn’t it be terrible if the bank sent her to Cork or Galway or some such
place? Then she’d
really
be gone.

‘Jack, make sure Cassie isn’t sent away from home,’ she implored her deceased spouse, raising her eyes heavenwards as she dried her hands and picked up the tea-towel to dry the
dishes.

The train was trundling into Amiens Street station. Cassie stood up and joined the rest of the early-morning passengers as they pushed and shoved their way out the doors.
Walking along the cold tiled platform, Cassie wished the butterflies in her stomach would fly elsewhere. She was feeling a bit nervous. But she comforted herself with the thought that everyone else
on the course would probably feel the same.

She emerged onto the steps of the station to cross the street towards Talbot Street and gazed around her. There were people and cars and buses everywhere. So this was the famous rush-hour! And
at last she was part of it. This thought cheered her up immensely. She strode briskly down Talbot Street in the direction of O’Connell Street, where she would get the number 11 or number 13
bus which would take her to Ranelagh. She had already done a trial run with Laura so she knew exactly where to go for her bus and exactly where to get off. At least she wouldn’t be panicking
looking for the training centre when she got to Ranelagh. She crossed Marlborough Street into North Earl Street. There were sales on everywhere. Soon, she’d have money to spend in them.
Crossing the street she peered into Clerys side window. She’d love to go in and have a browse, but time did not permit it. After all, she didn’t want to be late on her first day. But
she’d get in one of these days.

Next Friday would be her first pay-day and she was going to have a ball. She had promised to bring John, Martin and Irene into town to go to the pictures and then to Fortes Café
afterwards for burgers and chips. They were greatly looking forward to the treat. She was going to buy her mother a briefcase. Nora had recently been elected to the position of secretary in her
ladies’ club and consequently had a lot of paperwork to do. A briefcase was just what she needed to carry all her papers. She intended buying Barbara the poster of Steve McQueen astride his
motorbike. She was always raving about it so that would be her treat. For herself she was going to buy a copy of
Gone With the Wind
and read it from cover to cover. With her first
week’s wages well spent she rounded the corner into O’Connell Street and saw a number 13 bus heading in her direction. Running to the bus-stop she joined the queue and boarded the bus
and began the final leg of her journey to her destination in Ranelagh.

There were twelve new recruits in the class, including herself, and they were welcomed by the chief executive of the company before being introduced to their course tutor. They
were given a brief history of the organization and then a rundown on its structure before stopping for tea, mid-morning. Cassie exchanged brief life-stories with the others and because it was a
small group it was easy to get to know the rest of her classmates. Then they were measured up for their uniforms before breaking for lunch. Laura was waiting in the foyer and they went to a pub in
Ranelagh and had soup and a sandwich while Cassie told her friend of all the things that had happened so far.

‘It sounds really interesting. Do you think you’re going to like it?’ Laura bit into a tuna salad sandwich and took a gulp of tea. She was starving.

‘If ever I get the hang of it,’ laughed Cassie. ‘Tomorrow they’re going to show us how to count notes. Seemingly there’s a knack to it.’

‘Where do you think you’ll be sent?’

Cassie shook her head. ‘I don’t know yet. We’ll be given an envelope on the last day of the course telling us what branch we’re assigned to. It could be
anywhere.’

‘God, I hope they don’t send you down the country. That would ruin our plans altogether,’ Laura said glumly.

‘I won’t be able to leave home right away even if I stay in Dublin,’ Cassie warned. ‘It’s too soon after Pops. Mam would go spare!’

Laura nodded encouragingly. ‘I know that. But keep working on it.’

‘Don’t worry, I will,’ Cassie said.

The rest of the day passed in a blur as the raw recruits were taught about the philosophy of banking, with particular reference to Allied Isles’ operation and aims for future expansion.
They were sent home with a folder full of information which they were told to have read for the following morning.

It was a tired girl who returned home to Port Mahon that night. It had been a very long day. Cassie thought her brain was going to burst, it had so much to assimilate. When she got home, she sat
in front of a blazing fire, the centre of attention, wriggling her toes to try and get some heat into them. There had been no heat on the train and she was frozen. As soon as she thawed out and got
some food inside her she was able to start answering the dozens of questions asked by her mother and her curious brothers and sisters. When Nora informed Cassie that she would allow her to move to
a flat in Dublin when she was twenty-one, Cassie was too tired to argue.

The two weeks were fascinating but hectic. The trainees learnt about the basic structure of the Allied Isles’ organization. They were shown the correct way to count cash
by wetting the thumbs and counting away from you. Nancy, the girl who was showing them, did it fast and effortlessly while the rest of them were all fingers and thumbs. But by the end of the
session Cassie was quite pleased with her progress. One of the blokes, Gary Hooper, was totally defeated by the method and his wad of notes landed on the floor several times, much to his dismay.
Nancy was very patient and eventually they all felt they had mastered the rudiments of counting cash. They learnt how to cash cheques and balance cash and how to take lodgements. They spent a
couple of days learning about customer service. They were shown how to greet and deal with customers. And then they did role-playing, pretending to be nasty customers or customers with unusual
queries while their partner, who was playing the part of cashier, tried to deal with them. They had sessions on grooming and self-presentation and by the time they were finished they were all dying
to get into a branch and show off their newly acquired skills.

The last day of the course found them all having a final lunch together in the staff canteen. They were nervously awaiting the fateful white envelope which would tell them which branch they were
to be assigned to.

‘I hope to God I don’t get Dame Street!’ Gary moaned. Dame Street was the bank’s main branch, their busiest operation in the country and totally intimidating to a
novice.

‘Me too,’ murmured Stella, a quiet girl from Galway.

‘I wouldn’t mind Dame Street at all!’ Lou Musgrove said confidently. ‘It’s the place to be if you want to get on quickly. You’re right under the noses of the
powers that be if you want to make a good impression and get noticed. I know. My father’s a bank manager!’

There was silence at the table. If they had heard it once, they had heard a thousand times that Lou Musgrove’s father was a bank manager. They were heartily sick of it – and him. The
bank manager’s son excused himself to go up and get a second helping.

‘That little fat baldy bollox. I hope he gets sent to the Outer Hebrides,’ Gary muttered, half to himself. He had had enough of the other bloke’s boasting and blowing. A guffaw
went around the table and Gary reddened, a bit embarrassed in front of the girls. ‘Oh excuse me, ladies, I forgot where I was.’

‘Don’t worry,’ Cassie said cheerfully. ‘We all feel the same about the little gobshite. And I can tell you one thing, I’m damn well going to make sure I get to be a
manager before he does. Can you imagine having to take orders from him!’

‘Wash your mouth out with soap,’ laughed Raymond Burton, a good-looking Corkman.

‘Shhh! here he comes,’ warned Stella, as the boastful one arrived back to their table with his plate piled high. ‘Food’s good here. Might as well make the most of it,
especially when it’s subsidized. My father maintains that if you feed staff properly you’ll get twice as much work out of them.’

It was on the tip of Cassie’s tongue to say, ‘It obviously hasn’t worked with you!’ but she restrained herself. She had partnered Lou on two sessions in the training
course. She had done all the work and he had tried to take over the presentation and pretend he was the brains behind it. No doubt Lou Musgrove would get places. He certainly had the gift of the
gab but he wasn’t going to climb on
her
back to further his career.

She wondered where she would be sent. Nora would have a heart attack if she were appointed to anywhere else but Dublin. In her heart of hearts she would prefer to be left in Dublin for a year or
two at least and not only for her mother’s sake. She didn’t want to be miles away from Laura and Aileen. That kip Laura was living in was a disaster but there was no possibility yet
that she could afford a flat on her own. At least if Aileen and she were sharing the rent, she’d be able to manage OK. More than anything, the three of them wanted to realize their teenage
dream of sharing a flat. All three of them got on like a house on fire and sharing a flat would be terrific.

Apart from all that, Cassie liked what she had seen of Dublin. There was so much to do and see and explore. All the art galleries and museums, all the bookshops. The other day when they were let
off early she went into Eason’s Bookshop in O’Connell Street, the biggest bookshop in the country. She got so immersed in browsing, dipping into this book and that, going upstairs to
the art section and downstairs to the music and gift section and then back up to the books and magazines, that she completely forgot about the time and had to run all the way to Amiens Street. She
made the train with seconds to spare. If she were assigned to work in a branch in Dublin and managed finally to make the break from home, Cassie would be as happy as Larry!