Second Chance (3 page)

Her husband loved clocks. He'd have them all over the house if she let him. He had a cuckoo clock. A grandfather clock. A Westminster chimes on the mantle that could be heard in Timbuktu. Carriage clocks of various shapes and sizes. Dusting all these clocks got on her nerves. But Sara loved her husband and she put up with his clocks. It could have been worse. It could have been china frogs or elves and gnomes.

He had plenty of room for his clocks, Sara thought as she went upstairs to get ready for her trip into town. The three boys were married with children of their own. The nice
four-bedroom house that was the family home was too big for herself and Eddie now. They really should sell up and get a smaller place. But Sara loved her home. It held so many memories.

All her children had been born at home. All the joys and sorrows of their growing up were part of the fabric of the house she and Eddie had lived in since their marriage over fifty years ago. Move! No. They were too old and too settled to face the upheaval of moving house. Moving was for young people. Not the likes of her and Eddie in their mid-seventies.

Sara dabbed some powder on her nose. Then she applied her lipstick. Her hand shook a little. She sighed. Old age was a dreadful thing. Dimming eyesight. Hearing not great. And hands that weren't as steady as
they used to be. At heart she felt as young as when she was in her thirties. Ready for anything. Still, she wouldn't dream of going out without her makeup on. Sara had always kept herself smart. Old age wasn't going to change that.

She checked her bag. She needed to get money from the banklink. It was handier than writing a cheque. It was showery but she had her headscarf.

She was looking forward immensely to her day in town. Later, she would treat herself to tea and cakes in Clerys' tea-rooms.

She poked her head around the kitchen door.

“See you later, Eddie,” she said cheerfully. “There's cold chicken and tomatoes in the fridge for your lunch. I'll get the dinner when I come home.”

Her husband waved a sudsy hand.
“Don't worry about me. I'll be fine. I'm going to put a bit of compost on the vegetable garden. And I might do a bit of pruning and deadheading.”

“Don't overdo it,” Sara warned. Eddie was inclined to forget his limitations.

“And don't you spend all our savings,” Eddie retorted.

Sara laughed. Eddie was always teasing her about being a spendthrift.

She set off with a jaunty step. The shower was over. The sun shone on the sparkling raindrops trapped in the leaves of the pyracantha. A lovely sight, Sara thought approvingly as she headed towards town.

Tony walked briskly. It had stopped raining. He was heading north. He decided to walk to Finglas. He was registered at the Fás centre there. Maybe he might have some luck on the job front today.

The sun came out. It glittered on the waters of the canal as he walked along Cross Guns Bridge. There were nice new apartments built in what had been an old mill. Once he'd believed that he and Jean would have a place of their own. They'd had a deposit saved. Now it was gone.

Tony felt bitter and angry. He'd been a good worker. A person should be able to work if he wanted to. He frowned. Feeling sorry for himself was not going to help. Maybe there'd be something in Fás for him today. At least he was feeling fit by walking, he thought wryly. He was much fitter now than he'd been when he was working.

Fás was on the first floor of the shopping centre. Tony eagerly scanned the boards to see if there was anything new since the last time he'd been in. Surely someone needed an experienced printer. That was what he wanted to do. But he wouldn't turn his nose up at any other type of work. He saw that a porter was required for a city centre hotel. There was no harm in applying, he supposed. The money wasn't as good as he'd been earning, but with tips it wouldn't be too bad.

He went to the girl at the desk. She took down all the relevant details and promised to get in touch with him. There was a lot of interest in the job, she told him. Some of the applicants had hotel work experience already. Tony knew that she told him all this so he wouldn't get his hopes up too high. He'd been through this many times before.

“I'll take my chances,” he said.

As he walked out the door of the Fás centre he noticed several people waiting outside in the hallway. They were waiting for the library to open. It was a long time since he'd been in a library, he reflected. When he was a child he used to go to his local library once a week. He'd been a good reader. As he got older and developed interests in sport – and girls – he'd neglected his reading. Jean liked reading. She always had her head stuck in a book.

The porter opened the door. The people waiting surged in. Tony found himself following them. It would pass an hour or two. Then he'd have a coffee and a bun and then, he thought dolefully, he'd go home.

He looked around and saw that he was in the bright, airy children's section. Little tables and chairs and boxes filled with illustrated storybooks were in the centre of the area. Larger desks and chairs lined the big floor-to-ceiling window area. Bookshelves crammed with books lined the walls. Posters and paintings were everywhere.

Nice, thought Tony. When Angela was older he'd bring her here and enrol her. He walked along into the next section. The adult library was just as inviting. Easy chairs and small tables were dotted here and there between the bookshelves. There were desks by the
windows. A few students were settling down to study. A queue had formed at the lending desk. The staff laughed and chatted with the borrowers. There was a very agreeable friendly atmosphere about the place. Not at all like the intimidating silence of the library of his youth.

He began to browse through the books. He was in the non-fiction section. He picked up a book about painting and decorating and began to flick through it. There were some great ideas in it. He particularly liked one wallpapering tip. It showed a picture of a room with a border strip outlining the door-frame. It looked most effective.

He'd promised Ma Feeny he'd paint and paper her bedroom. Maybe he'd outline the bedroom door with a border. It looked very posh. Ma Feeny
would like that. She was into posh. She'd have the neighbours in to show off her new border.

Tony sighed. It wasn't that he didn't like his mother-in-law. She wasn't that bad. He just didn't like living with her. He put the book down and moved along towards two large racks of cassettes. To think you could borrow tapes as well as books. Tony was most impressed. He saw a Queen tape. Tony loved Freddie Mercury. There was a great selection of tapes. Classical music, pop, spoken arts. There was also a huge selection of Talking Books. It was incredible. Years ago there'd been nothing like that. You went to the library, borrowed your books and that was that.

He noticed a woman returning a large painting. You could borrow paintings as well? This was a right little
Aladdin's Cave. Another rack caught his eye. It was full of magazines.
Autocar, Hot Press, In Dublin, Woman's Way, The RTE Guide, Hello!
There was a good selection to cover all tastes. You could spend all day in the library entertaining yourself, Tony thought as he watched a girl sit down at a computer and a young man doing a session in language lab. There were dozens of languages to learn. Maybe he might start to learn French or German. It would give him something to do while he was unemployed. It would probably cost a fortune to join, Tony thought ruefully. Still, there was no harm in asking.

“There's no charge at all, sir,” the affable man behind the desk said.

“Oh!” exclaimed Tony in delight. “Could I join then?”

“Certainly, sir.” The librarian smiled
and handed Tony a form. “Just fill that out please. Would you have any identification on you? I need some proof of address.”

“I have my social welfare card and a letter from the tax inspector. Would that do?”

“That'll be fine, and I'll just check your form against the voters' register.”

Just as well he'd filled out the change of address form and sent it in to City Hall when they'd moved in with Mrs Feeny, Tony thought as he wrote his details on the application form.

“When will I get my tickets?” Tony asked.

“You can take out three items today,” the librarian said. “You'll get a computerised ticket when you return your books, cassettes or whatever. You can use this ticket in any of the
computerised libraries, including the ILAC library.

“That's marvellous!” Tony was delighted. The ILAC was in town, just off Henry Street. He'd always meant to have a look around the very modern library but had never got around to it. “Could you tell me how I'd go about using the language tapes? I'm interested in French.”

“You just put your name down for a session. The same if you want to use the computer. You can borrow the course of language cassettes. There's a small waiting list. So I'll reserve it for you.” The librarian filled out a little white form and asked Tony for his phone number. “We'll give you a call when part one is available.”

Tony left the library with the Queen tape, the decorating book and a Stephen King horror novel. He had put
his name down for a session in the language lab and had reserved a copy of
Bravo Two Zero
, the bestselling book about the SAS.

He felt a bit more positive. He hadn't planned to go into the library. But now he was more than glad he'd done it. He had two books to read. God knows he had plenty of time on his hands to get through them. He had his name down to learn French. At least he was doing something positive. He would make the most of this unwanted free time until he got another job, Tony resolved. He would use it to learn.

He went into the coffee shop downstairs. He ordered a cup of coffee and a scone and sat flicking through the decorating book. Jean would find it as interesting as he did. She loved anything to do with decorating. Hopefully by the time he got home her
humour would have improved. He'd been a bit hasty himself. He'd apologise. Feeling much more cheerful, Tony finished his coffee and set off for home.

Jean's heart sank. There was a huge queue in the post office. It was always like that on children's allowance day. Never mind. She'd be richer by forty pounds when she came out. She hadn't collected her last children's allowance. When she could, she let it mount up. Which wasn't very often.

Jean left the post office some twenty-five minutes later with her forty pounds tucked safely down the finger of her glove.

She felt like going on a spree. It was always the same when she got her
children's allowance money. There was always the urge to throw caution to the wind and go mad. It was her money to do what she liked with. Tony was always urging her to treat herself with it but Jean would have felt as guilty as hell if she did that.

Angela needed new shoes and vests. She was growing out of her clothes so fast these days. Tony needed new jeans and he could do with a new jacket for the winter. She'd feel extremely mean spending money on herself.

Jean passed the newsagents on her way to the bus stop. She noticed the latest issue of
Hello!
on a display stand. Once, she used to buy it and other magazines regularly. Now they were a luxury she could not afford and she had to make do with furtive reads at the magazine stand. She brushed the thought aside impatiently. Looking
back was just being negative. The past was the past. She had to make the most of her situation. There were people much worse off than she was and self pity got you nowhere.

She was lucky. A bus pulled into the stop just as she reached it and an elderly man helped her with the buggy. Jean smiled and thanked him. Some people could be so nice. Others often barged past and left her struggling.

The traffic was light and it wasn't long before they were in O'Connell Street. The sun had come out again and Jean walked briskly towards the traffic lights, enjoying the crisp autumn morning. She liked town. It invigorated her. She stood waiting to cross over towards Henry Street. Now that she was in the city, she was beginning to have second thoughts about traipsing all the way over to the civic offices. If
the Housing Department had been in Jervis Street it would have been no trouble.

Jean stood in a tizzy of indecision. Should she go and see about getting a Corporation flat or house. She felt a bit guilty. It was like going behind Tony's back. Not that she'd be making a decision there and then, she assured herself. There was no harm in asking.

But she could always phone them, rather than trek all the way across town. That's what she'd do, Jean decided. She'd phone and get all the information and then present it to Tony. They could talk about it then and make a decision together.

The trouble with her, she thought as the lights changed, was that she was too hot tempered. She always had been. She had flown off the handle this morning and got herself all fired up. Typical.

Jean smiled sheepishly. To tell the truth, having thought about it, she wasn't sure if she wanted to move to the outer suburbs. Blanchardstown, Tallaght, Clondalkin and the like were very far out of town. And that was probably where they'd have to go if they were to get a house. Still, if Tony really wanted to get out of her mother's she'd go. She'd phone the Housing Department and get the information. Then they could talk about it tonight, Jean decided. They could go into the Housing Department together. The main thing was to do it
together
.

Jean felt much more light-hearted as she headed towards Dunnes. Too hell with it! She was going to buy Tony his jeans and the baby her shoes. She was going to treat herself to
Hello!
and she'd buy her mother a bunch of carnations from the flower sellers in Moore Street.
It was almost like going on a spree, she thought, with a surge of anticipation. It was a long time since she'd been on one.