The sturdy figure of Dublin’s Lady Mayor walked up and down South Anne Street, noting the construction site on one side and the shops, some of which were boarded up, on the other. She could see why so many of the street’s traders were tempted to sell, fearing their shops would go bankrupt once the large-scale development opened.
The empty fruit and vegetable shop brought back memories of her father’s greengrocer’s store in Phibsboro with its trays of polished Granny Smiths and fresh oranges from Israel. Her father had been forced to close down when a huge supermarket opened only five hundred yards away. They’d moved to Crumlin, to a new estate filled with young families. Danny Sullivan had never said much, but in hindsight Mo supposed that losing the shop must have broken his heart.
For the rest of his working life he had been an employee, a wages clerk, and at fifty-eight he had found himself at home, no longer the wage earner but dependent on social welfare. His pride and hope had dwindled away. Mo could still remember his fierce loyalty to the ordinary working man and his lack of resentment about all that had happened to him. A wonderful father, he’d encouraged all of them to go out and embrace the world. In his own gentle way he had given each of them more than any millionaire could have given his children.
Mo took a breath. There was a big sale in the expensive boutique with its knitted twinsets and tweed skirts. Were they closing down too? She would go and talk to them.
‘I’ve a huge rent review, costs are soaring and God knows what will happen when those big shops open,’ Ria Roberts said angrily, shaking her immaculately coiffed grey hair.
Looking around at the shelves of expensive cashmere and lambswool and the rails of exquisite skirts and jackets, Mo disagreed.
‘But you have such an elegant shop here,’ she remonstrated, ‘with a loyal clientele, I’m sure. Don’t give up your hard-earned custom so easy.’
It was the same story everywhere – the jeweller’s, the small Italian restaurant, the print and art shop. Every single small trader was worried about their livelihood and their ability to withstand the tidal wave of the forthcoming galleria, with its massive retail outlets, restaurants and hotel.
Mo stood outside the windows of the toy shop. Its freshly painted red and yellow shopfront was attractive and welcoming, as was the display of wooden toys and kites in the window.
‘I was about to throw in the towel and give up,’ Scottie O’Loughlin admitted, ‘but young Ellie down the street told me kids still want proper toys, not just cheap plastic rubbish but good stuff. No matter how many videos and computer games they have, kids still want to play.’
‘I reckon she was right,’ laughed Mo.
‘She did a great job on her own shop so I suppose that gave me a bit of encouragement to get rid of all the junk and old stock and smarten my place up. Make it nicer for the kids.’
‘It’s just what a toy shop should be,’ said Mo admiringly, looking up at the hand-painted mobiles over her head and the wooden aeroplanes that bobbed from the ceiling.
‘The property company weren’t too happy about me not going ahead with the sale but I told them I wanted to stay put and I wasn’t budging for anything. Kids and toys are my life!’
Mo looked around the shop with its well-displayed toys on low shelves and found herself buying a wooden kite with a jaunty red and blue tail for Lisa and a big green crocodile to put on her desk.
Shops like this certainly mustn’t be allowed to disappear. Surely the city manager could see the sense in providing all kinds of shops for customers to enjoy?
The small black cat greeted Mo as she opened the door of the hat shop and rubbed itself against her legs. The young milliner had done a marvellous job in making her shop such an enticing treat for customers and passers-by.
Ellie Matthews put aside the feathered trim she was working on.
‘Lovely hat!’
‘It’s for a christening,’ confided Ellie. ‘It makes me feel good, making a hat for a mother with a new baby.’
‘Your hats make everyone feel good,’ laughed Mo. ‘I love mine.’
‘That’s such a kind thing to say, Mo, thank you. And your hat was a great success.’
‘The media aren’t used to seeing me dressed up and looking smart!’
Mo was tempted to try on the fuchsia-pink hat on the stand but steeled herself to resist. She couldn’t have all her mayoral salary going on clothes and style.
‘The reason I’m here today is to talk to you about the shop and the street.’
‘My shop!’
‘Yes, you have done a remarkable job – but it would be such a shame to see any more of the other shops and businesses round here closing down.’
‘They’re scared,’ confided Ellie. ‘Frightened they’ll lose their trade. Some of them reckon it’s better to get out now while the going is good and there is an offer on the table.’
‘You didn’t think that!’
‘Oh, I most certainly did, but when it came to it I couldn’t bear the thought of closing up my mother’s business. She had worked too hard all her life running it, and it wasn’t up to me to just go and sell it off to the highest bidder. I have to see if I can make a success of it myself.’
‘But you have already turned it round, it’s such a lovely shop.’
‘Thank you,’ Ellie said, accepting the compliment.
‘Mr O’Loughlin told me you encouraged him to continue trading.’
‘I’m not sure about that. But I have loved that shop ever since I was a little girl and I’d hate to see it close. Scottie thought he couldn’t compete with all the latest toys. He didn’t realize there is a big market for classic old-style things that kids love, boats and trains and arks and doll’s houses. They never go out of fashion.’
‘And kites,’ joked Mo, lifting up the one she had bought.
‘Yeah, see what I mean? Good toys are irresistible.’
‘What about the other traders?’ urged Mo. ‘What do they want?’
‘I’m not sure, Lady Mayor, but I suppose we all just want to save our street.’
‘Save our street, SOS. That’s a thought!’ grinned Mo. ‘Perhaps if you all got together . . .’
‘We have talked,’ admitted Ellie. ‘We are not opposed to this new galleria, it’s just we want to stay and trade here too.’
‘Then set up a proper meeting,’ she advised. ‘And I’ll try and get as many councillors along to support you as possible. No one can stop the development, but we can ensure that it doesn’t get any bigger and that the street manages to retain a sense of identity and individuality.’
Walking back to the Mansion House, Mo smiled to herself. She was certainly doing her best to look after all the citizens of this great city.
Mo sucked in her tummy and pulled on her new linen skirt. Perfect. She’d had her hair blow-dried and her nails done. Funny, she was more nervous about tonight than about any other function she’d attended.
‘You look a million dollars,’ assured Jessie, ‘and don’t worry, the party’s going to be great!’
Her daughter looked beautiful in a figure-hugging denim skirt and pink string top, her long dark hair hanging straight round her shoulders. Mo blinked, wondering when had her little girl grown up.
‘And you look amazing, Jessie. I’m so proud of you.’
Joe was whistling as he fixed his tie, a sign he was happy. Wearing the new grey suit he’d bought and with the touch of silver in his hair, he looked very distinguished, Mo thought, as he went downstairs to the hall.
The party in the Mansion House on Dawson Street was a great night! Lisa and Jessie gave everyone tours of the house, the Blue Room and the Oak Room while Joe stood at the front door to welcome each new arrival.
‘It’s only gorgeous,’ said Mary Clarke enviously. ‘Must be wonderful living in a palace like this.’
‘You lucky woman, and you don’t even have to clean it yourself,’ joked her friend Lorraine Ryan.
‘I’m only here because you lot got me elected,’ she admitted, looking round at their faces, seeing years of hard work and struggle reflected in their eyes. ‘I’ll never forget it for all of you.’
‘Well, we elected the best woman for the job,’ responded Paddy Hayes, ‘and gave Dublin one of its finest mayors.’
There was wine and beer and Guinness and the barman kept the drink flowing all night. Carmel and Seamus, the two cooks, had done her proud with tasty chicken and beef dishes and a huge range of desserts. Afterwards they sat around talking and chatting till all hours, Paul and the rest of the kids disappearing upstairs. Spotting the piano, Paddy Hayes rolled up his sleeves and began to play, like he always did. It was almost two o’clock when Joe and herself finally said goodbye to the last of the partygoers and made their way to bed.
As she watched her husband undress, carefully putting his clothes away, Mo knew that without his support and belief she would never have got to where she was. Fortune had smiled on her the day she had met him at Byrne’s Cash and Carry when he’d offered to help take the groceries out to the family car. She’d loved him ever since.
‘Thanks, Joe.’
‘Thanks?’
‘Thanks for making tonight such a good night.’
‘Wasn’t it grand, having all the old crowd here to our place,’ he joked, sitting on the edge of their bed as he took his socks off.
‘I couldn’t do it without you,’ she said, serious, reaching for him. ‘Tonight and all the nights, and all the dinners, the whole bloody lot.’
‘And I wouldn’t do it, any of it, without you,’ responded Joe Brady, taking the Lady Mayor in his strong arms.