A time like no other
Chapter 1: Out of Place 21st April 1939
The warm winds of a late afternoon in mid-Spring, gusted around them as they walked down the long road towards the Mallon household. The four girls were returning home from their work in the factory, another day of hard labour making shirts having come to a close. The Mallon house was their regular destination on a Friday evening, where they would listen to the radio and relax after a taxing week. Friday was their only shorter day, with the four working twelve hours shifts for the rest of the week. Sometimes they would be so tired that they'd just fall asleep there, but those were mostly in the early days of their working lives before they'd properly become accustomed to the rigours and responsibilities of being an adult.
"Did ye hear about Nine Fingers Norah?" Michelle asked the other girls.
"Who?" The blonde-haired Erin replied.
"Ye know… Norah".
"I can't say that I do".
"Me neither". The diminutive Clare gave her input on the matter.
"Norah!" Michelle continued to say the woman's name, throwing her hands around in the air. "Norah…Norah… Norah!"
"That isn't helpin', Michelle!". Erin complained.
The young Mallon huffed at her friends not knowing who Norah was, with Orla not saying anything, instead playing with a flower she'd picked on the way. She was like that though; throughout their years at school, she'd often look out of the window or fall asleep.
"Nine Fingers Norah… works upstairs with the lads".
"Oh that Norah!" Clare suddenly remembered, Erin nodding too.
"Aye that Norah…". Michelle rather sarcastically confirmed. "… well I've heard she's getting a promotion".
"A promotion!?" Erin reared up.
"That's what I thought as well, but Smelly Kelly from the night shift was tellin' me that she's only got it because she's…". Michelle stopped, proceeding to whistle an implication of what Norah was up to. "… with Eddie Walsh in management".
"Catch yourself on!"
"I'm serious Erin!" Michelle protested. "Kelly said she caught them at it in his office last week".
Michelle was well-known for her outlandish tales of sex and debauchery, with neither Erin nor Clare letting themselves believe her again. They'd believed her when she'd explained the story about Maggie McConnell getting knocked up by a seventy year old from Donegal, which turned out to be complete rubbish. It was a seventeen year old from Dungannon…
"As if they'd just… ye know… in his office". Clare probed the weak point of the story.
"All over the tables they were she said…".
"Ach come on Michelle, that's shite and ye know it". Erin chuckled, drawing her friend's ire.
Michelle grumbled on for another couple of minutes, arguing her point that Kelly was a trustable source, something which Erin disagreed with vehemently. Orla eventually joined in the conversation, only to take it down a different path altogether as she started to talk about dogs. She loved animals, especially dogs and horses, and often rode out in the countryside with her faithful Labrador Napoleon running alongside whichever horse she'd borrowed. She would often get into trouble with the farmers, with one once shooting at her in an attempt to force her off their land. Not that it mattered to her though, because she just enjoyed the freedom of a Saturday morning ride.
"Ye seein' yer David tonight, Orla?"
Erin put the question across to her cousin, who's face lit up at the mention of David. Once the apple of Erin's eye when they were younger, Orla had begun a relationship with David Donnelly the summer before. He too was one for the outdoors, with the pair often going out into the woods to light fires and on occasions, sleep out in them. Orla's mother didn't seem to mind too much, especially as she'd developed a deep fondness for David over time. He was a helpful young man who would always pay her a compliment or two, great qualities in her eyes. Sarah had missed that since Orla's father died seven years earlier, after being struck down by a terrible bout of flu.
"I might be…". Orla replied, somewhat shyly.
"Look at you Orla, gettin' a bit of action eh?" Michelle elbowed her, a smirk running giddily along her face.
"She isn't!" Erin snapped back.
Clare rolled her eyes at their antics. She never really understood the point of chasing after boys. There was something about it which didn't appeal to her, but she was wise enough not to say anything to anyone, not wishing to be at risk of punishment from her father should he find out. Sean was a strict man who wanted the best for his only child he'd had with Geraldine. A devotion which showed with the lengths he was going to in order to find her a potential suitor. He was yet to realise that her interests were laying elsewhere…
"Calm down Erin. Haven't ye got John-Paul to chase after".
"I… it's just a matter of time Michelle… ye know… besides, we don't have the time to sort things out properly at the moment and…".
"Christ! For the last time…". An annoyed Michelle began to huff out. "…one kiss on the cheek after church doesn't constitute anythin'".
"It was more than a kiss Michelle…".
"It wasn't Erin". Orla confidently came to Michelle's aid. "I was there so I was, and he just kissed ye on the cheek so he did".
"Too much communion wine…".
"That's enough Michelle!" The significantly more pissed off Erin launched at her friend. "We're just figurin' out what we have together that's all".
"Ye haven't even spoken to him since". Clare fairly pointed out.
A point which ended the conversation very quickly.
Orla was correct in her telling of the events of the particular Sunday morning in question. John-Paul O'Reilly had kissed Erin on the cheek outside church, but it was only to say thanks to her for sewing a shirt up for him. Anybody in the world could have told her that, yet Erin wouldn't be swayed from her belief that he'd done it out of a love for her. A love that, to everyone else including her parents, she'd seemingly invented in her apparent infatuation with him. He was one of the most desirable young men of their age in the city, something which even Michelle conceded to Erin when they'd discussed it previously, with plenty of girls their age flushing at the mere sight of him. Erin was the only one that actually dared to believe she had anything more…
They continued to walk along the road to the Mallon house, which was obscured around a corner up the hill. Orla waved to an old lady who was out in her front garden, who smiled at the teenager before waving back. It was a regular occurrence that the other three detested…
"Michelle". Clare spoke lightly, the others coming to look at the frown on her face. "Since when did yer parents own one of those fancy cars".
Looking up at Clare's statement, Michelle spotted the vehicle parked up on the road outside the house. It was a bright red Morgan, a fancy little car that was very much out of place sat in front of the Mallon household. Out of place in Derry completely. It was the sort of car that adorned the manor estate of a country gentleman or another young member of the aristocracy.
"Oh for feck's sake…".
"What is it Michelle?" An inquisitive Orla asked.
A car being present could only mean two things for Michelle, neither of which were appealing. The girls didn't quite know what to make of it as they looked to her for an answer. None of their families owned a car, lacking the wealth to be able to afford the privilege of one. Out of all of them, only Orla had ever even been in a car, as her David drove cars as part of his job as a mechanic, and that was only for a few roads. A flash car outside the Mallon's would certainly drive-up interest with the neighbours too, with Derry not being a place where secrets could be kept so easily.
"Well girls…". Michelle said as they stopped by the Morgan. "… the first possibility is me Aunt Kathy".
"Was she the one…". Clare began to ask.
"The one that fucked off to England to have a secret abortion? Aye that's her…".
The tale of Kathy Maguire was one which she'd told many a time on a rainy evening when there was nothing to do. She was the younger sister of Michelle's mother Deirdre, both being quite attractive in their youth, but Kathy put herself out a hell of a lot more by all accounts. That was how she'd ended up pregnant in the first place, without a clue who the father was, seeing as there was a literal list of candidates as to who it could have been. She'd somehow managed to raise enough funds to leave for England in shame to have the abortion, which was the usual conclusion to the story Michelle told. However, she'd always withheld one very important detail about her Aunt's trip and subsequent stay in England. She'd not had the abortion after all. She'd kept the child and raised him completely on her own… though knowing what she knew about Kathy, Michelle knew it wouldn't have been without the presence of lovers. It was the same child she'd met once at a funeral years before.
"What's the other?" Orla questioned.
"The other is…"
Right on cue, the door to the house opened, the girls turning around to see who was walking out of it. It wasn't Deirdre or Michelle's father Martin. Instead, an incredibly smartly dressed young man strolled out of the house, with a wide smile on his face. His hair was short and slick, too finely kept for someone of their status. He wore a brown, double breasted suit, with two toned chalk stripes that matched on both the jacket and trousers. Within the jacket was a fine white pocket square too, with a red pattern embroidered into it. The young man was so smart in fact, that anyone would have thought a noble man of title was visiting the house that late afternoon.
Michelle, of course, knew otherwise.
"Kathy's son. My English cousin, James".
Clare and Orla both turned to stare at Michelle, who was already angered by the young man's presence. It was a secret that she ideally never wanted to share, but life turned against her, and now it was out there. There was an Englishman in her family. A boy that she hated, despite only having met him the once so many years before. She knew it would be a lot to take in for the girls as well. And whilst it might have been difficult for her, the diminutive blonde Clare or the usually distracted Orla, unbeknownst to them, it was nothing compared to the thoughts and feelings of Erin Quinn at that moment.
She chased after John-Paul with visions in her head, dreams of what a life could be like with him, without ever properly feeling anything inside to validate any true affection. After just one glance at Michelle's wee English cousin, her knees were weak, threatening to buckle, whilst her heart raced like a champion thoroughbred.
He was handsome… so… so handsome.
Holy mother of god…