NELLIE WATCHED AS Mother sat reading a book under a large garden parasol. Since they had arrived in Greystones she would often sit for hours reading a novel, or dozing, saying that she was not in the humour for going to the beach or joining in their usual excursions and summer concerts.
‘Your poor mother needs to rest,’ Bridget reminded them gently. ‘She has suffered a terrible loss.’
Father had taken her brothers, Claude, Gabriel, Ernest and Cecil, fishing earlier this morning, carrying their fishing lines and a big box of wriggling, smelly worm bait.
‘You are on holiday too,’ Father had reminded Nellie, telling her that for the next few weeks she was not expected to help in the kitchen or with the house.
‘Mam, as it is such a warm day I thought to bring the girls for a walk down by the harbour and maybe have a paddle on the beach and let you have a bit of peace,’ suggested Bridget. ‘Miss Ada and Miss Kate have gone to play tennis with friends.’
Mother looked relieved – she would have the garden to herself.
‘Bridget, the girls must all wear their hats in this weather,’ she reminded the nanny, noticing that they were not in their straw boaters. ‘With their colouring they will get burned and red in no time.’
‘I’ll fetch them straight away, mam,’ Bridget said, disappearing back into the house.
‘I’m not wearing my stupid hat,’ brown haired Sidney protested stubbornly.
‘Then you may stay in the garden in the shade with me,’ Mother insisted.
Bridget reappeared with the hats a few minutes later and Nellie was annoyed as, under Mother’s gaze, she had to plomp her hated straw boater on to her head.
Down at Greystones harbour boys sold fish to passing holidaymakers as the fishermen cleaned their nets. They walked up by the imposing new Grand Hotel, where guests played croquet on the front lawn, and past the rocky cove, where the tide was out, revealing tempting, deep, rocky pools and the stony beach below.
‘Bridget, please can we go down to the cove and hunt for crabs and shells?’ begged Sidney.
Bridget agreed and they carefully climbed down to the beach. For the next hour or so they had the steep, rock-bound cove to themselves as they scrambled around searching in the rockpools for startled crabs and little fish.
‘Don’t get your dresses wet!’ warned Bridget as she found a shady spot to rest for a bit.
Too late, thought Nellie, aware of the heavy wet hem of her dress as she pushed her silly straw boater towards the back of her head. She clambered out on the rocky promontory to see if there was any sign of Father and the boys. It was slightly breezy and her stupid hat was so annoying … Suddenly it lifted off her head and she couldn’t resist it – Nellie grabbed the boater and flung it out over the waves. The straw was so light it caught the wind and seemed almost to fly across the water before dipping down and floating into the distance. In a few minutes it was engulfed, disappearing into the deep blue sea.
With a whoop of glee Sidney joined her, sending her hat like a skimming stone as far as she could across the water. The sisters all watched as it bounced lightly for a second or two, before being caught by the waves and floating along. All of them laughed, and immediately Grace defiantly cast her straw hat out over the water too, then Muriel did the same. Grace clapped as she got three – four – bounces along the top of the water from her boater.
‘What are you four doing?’ demanded Bridget, coming over to see what all the fun was. ‘Where are your sun hats?’
‘In the water,’ they replied in unison, ‘and good riddance!’
‘Oh dear Lord! What will your mother say?’ fretted Bridget, aware of the seriousness of the situation. ‘I’ll be murdered!’
‘No, you won’t,’ they assured her loyally.
‘We’ll tell Mother the wind and the sea took them,’ added Sidney calmly.
Bridget looked doubtful, for she knew well that their mother had the eyes of an eagle and nothing, but nothing, got by her.
‘Hey, there’s Father,’ called Grace, spotting the boat in the distance.
‘You are all creating such a racket your poor father can probably hear you, and I’m sure you are scaring all the fish away!’ admonished Bridget as they walked towards the South Beach with promises that they could paddle there.
Two hours later, as they walked back along Marine Road to the house, Nellie’s skin felt hot and already she could see a line of freckles on her arms. Bridget had promised a family picnic on the beach and swimming tomorrow for anyone who wanted. They were all good swimmers, as Father had insisted on them having lessons.
‘Can we go for a ride on the donkeys too?’ begged Sidney.
‘Of course. It wouldn’t be summer without a few donkey rides on the beach,’ laughed Bridget as they turned in at their gateway.
‘Nellie, your face is as red as a turkey cock and I can see freckles everywhere!’ chastised Mother as she greeted them. ‘Where is your sun hat?’
‘I’m sorry, but the wind caught it and it blew out to sea,’ Nellie responded nervously with her half-truth as she stood in the tiled hallway.
‘And where is yours, Muriel? You have a red patch on your nose. And Grace, your hair looks like a hayrick! You are all a disgrace! Bridget, why aren’t the girls wearing their sun hats?’
Poor Bridget – Nellie could see that she looked totally flummoxed, torn between loyalty to her employer and fondness for her charges.
‘Mother, it wasn’t Bridget’s fault,’ Nellie said defensively. ‘She was sitting on the beach and we were all down on the rocks at the water’s edge.’
This was their last summer with Bridget and Nellie would not have Mother blame her for their antics.
‘Mother, I’m sorry,’ Grace explained, looking innocent. ‘The strong sea breeze just caught my straw boater and it floated out over the water and then …’
‘The wind took all our hats and blew them away,’ added Sidney dramatically. ‘It wasn’t our fault, Mother.’
‘I’m sorry, mam,’ apologized Bridget, ‘but it was far too dangerous for us to try to retrieve the hats with the rocks and the current and the waves.’
Nellie could see that their mother was not at all convinced by their description of events and suspected they had all simply defied her.
‘Why is it that you girls can never obey or heed me?’ she complained angrily.
They all tried to look suitably apologetic as Mother raged on.
‘I am most put out and vexed. I do not know where we will find suitable sun hats at this stage of the holiday. In this weather it is paramount that a lady protects her good complexion.’
‘Yes, mam,’ Bridget nodded meekly.
Nellie was relieved finally to escape upstairs to her bedroom, wondering why Mother, even though they were on holiday, still managed to annoy them so with her stupid etiquette and manners, her rules and regulations.
As the weeks went on, Father gradually persuaded Mother to go for walks or come down to the beach or take a jaunt in the pony and trap to Rathnew or Delgany with him.
Their annual picnic to Sugar Loaf Mountain was one of the summer’s special outings. Along with a number of friends’ families, the Giffords rented a large wagonette to drive them all up to have a picnic on the grassy lower slopes of the mountain.
I wish Gerald was here with us, thought Nellie as they joined the Garveys, the Duggans, the Hancocks, the Heustons with their twin boys, and the Goodbodys. All the young people raced to climb to the top of the mountain; later they would be rewarded with sandwiches, cheese and pickles, hardboiled eggs and cups of homemade lemonade, buns and sweet cake from the picnic hampers as they played games and chased each other.
‘Isabella, I’m so glad that you came today,’ said pretty Mrs Heuston, squeezing Mother’s hand as she joined the coterie of women sitting on cushions and rugs in the sunshine. Mother’s friends and neighbours in Greystones were full of kindness and understanding of her grief, fussing over her as they talked about Gerald and remembered him with great fondness.
As the days of summer ended, Nellie dreaded having to say goodbye to Bridget, the nanny who had helped to raise them all, loving each and every one of them in turn.
On their last evening Mother and Father had gone out to dinner and a summer music concert down at the seafront, so Essie and Nora decided to organize a farewell party for Bridget in the kitchen. Nellie had secretly made her a large chocolate sponge cake and there were coconut macaroons and cherry Bakewells and large jugs of lemonade for everyone, and they also had to sing or dance or do a recitation. Kate, Ada and Muriel performed ‘Three Little Maids’ from The Mikado; Gabriel and Ernest did a funny sailor’s dance. She, Grace and Muriel sang ‘Gypsy Rover’, one of Bridget’s favourite songs, and everyone joined in, singing verse after verse. Sidney read a beautiful poem she had written about Bridget which had them all in tears.
‘My work is done, for you are all growing up to be fine gentlemen and young ladies to be proud of … too old to have a nanny!’ Bridget said, blowing her nose noisily. ‘Hopefully you will all remember your old nanny and come to visit Mr Byrne and me in our little home in Wexford, where you will always find a warm welcome.’
Nellie and her sisters and brothers felt immensely sad, wishing that Bridget never had to leave them. Nellie had brought her violin along and Bridget asked her to play a few tunes to get everyone tapping their feet and dancing. When Mother and Father returned from the concert they heard the singing and music, so they joined them in the kitchen and the whole family said a fond farewell to Bridget.