CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

 

On the long walk from the bus to City Quay, Oona always found she had too much time to dwell on her money worries. Each morning her intention to ask Jack for a pay increase got pushed aside, as one problem followed another at the office. The settling-in period was proving difficult. Parcels and packages continued to arrive late due to mislaid paperwork. Irate customers refused to listen to her explanations, demanding to speak to the manager.

‘Give it time,’ Jack said. ‘Things will settle down.’

Although Oona agreed with him, she ended up staying late most evenings in an attempt to find missing documents and shift the backlog that seemed to mount with each passing day.

One afternoon, she arrived back from lunch to see a man carrying a rolled-up carpet into Jack’s office. So when she found Brenda perched over her typewriter, boldly hammering the keys, her desk littered with documents, and the phones ringing, she felt perplexed.

‘What are you doing, Brenda?’

‘I’m practising! Jack’s sending me to night school for typing lessons.’

‘He said that?’

‘Yes.’ Engrossed in what she was doing, Brenda continued her efforts, oblivious to the mayhem around her.

‘Did he also say you weren’t to answer the phones, Brenda?’

Giggling, the girl moved across to her desk and picked up her phone. When she replaced it, she said, ‘Isn’t it grand? I can’t believe it. Me ma’ll be that chuffed.’

A weak smile was all Oona could muster. She was pleased for Brenda, but felt disappointed Jack had not mentioned it to her, nor had he said anything about the new carpet. There was only one machine in the office, and she had grown quite attached to her reliable Olivetti. Surely he didn’t expect her to share it with Brenda? With important documents to be typed each day, she would never get anything done. She didn’t know what to think.

Sighing, she placed a sheet of paper between the roller and found a gummed label stuck to it. She picked irritably at the sticky pieces.

‘Jesus! This could take ages.’ She glared at Brenda.

‘Sorry.’ Brenda looked contrite, her face flushed. ‘It must’ve got stuck to the back of the paper.’

‘Don’t make me answer that.’ Oona sighed aloud. The last time she’d felt this angry was when Sean had played truant. She knew if she said any more they would end up having a row. It wasn’t Brenda’s fault that her bills were overdue, she hadn’t asked Jack for a pay rise or that he’d stopped confiding in her. She took a deep breath and hit the return carriage with such force it almost flew off the machine, making Brenda jump.

‘Holy Mary . . . Oona! What’s up with yeh?’

‘Sorry, Brenda, I didn’t mean for that to happen.’ The situation was ridiculous. She needed a word with Jack, and the typewriter was added to her list of grievances. She would do it now before anything else stopped her.

Jack was on his hands and knees in the corner of his office, the carpet almost fitted. She could smell the newness of the green pile. Was there no end to his talents? He made no attempt to get up. ‘Does that need signing, Oona? Pop it on the desk and I’ll do it in a moment.’

Irritated, she watched him expertly push the carpet up to the wall so that it fitted perfectly. Clearly he no longer needed her help or advice. The carpet was his choice, just as it was to send Brenda to night school. If he hadn’t felt it necessary to tell her himself, she decided not to raise the subject. If he noticed her sullen mood, he didn’t comment.

She was desperate to speak to him about her money worries, otherwise she would go home miserable again. Trying to keep the annoyance out of her voice, she said, ‘Can I have a word please, Jack?’

Smiling, he got to his feet. ‘I’m sorry, Oona. Can it wait ‘til morning? I’ll sign these then I have to dash. I’m meeting Mr. Flynn and I can’t be late.’ He shrugged into his coat and hurried from the office.

Flummoxed and confused, she didn’t care if Jack Walsh never confided in her again.

 

***

 

The following morning, Brenda was in the kitchen watering the plants when Oona arrived. ‘Jack asked me not to put any calls through. What’s going on?’

‘I’ve no idea, Brenda.’ Without bothering to remove her coat, she went down the corridor to his office. Jack closed the file he was working on and glanced up. ‘Morning, Oona. Are you staying?’ He was glancing at her green coat, still buttoned, and her scarf still wrapped snugly around her neck. Frightened she’d say something she might later regret, she took a deep intake of breath but remained standing. ‘I thought I’d catch you before you disappeared again.’ She unbuttoned her coat. Noting an edge to her voice, he sat forward.

‘Please, Oona, sit down. You’re making me nervous.’

Feeling silly now, she sat.

‘What’s on your mind?’

She felt hot, and colour flushed her face as she loosened her scarf and pulled it from around her neck. If only he would mention her wages and save her the indignity of having to ask. What she said next totally surprised her.

‘If you want me to continue doing a professional job, Jack, I can’t allow Brenda to use my Olivetti.’

‘I’m sorry.’ He touched his forehead. ‘I’ve been so busy I forgot to tell you that your new machine will arrive in a few days.’

What could she say, except to wish he had mentioned it before and that she had been more patient? ‘Thank you. I hear you’re sending Brenda for typing lessons?’

‘I told her not to say anything until I’d spoken to you, but she couldn’t keep it to herself, the little minx. Don’t you think it’s a good idea?’ He folded his arms.

‘It’s a great idea . . . but what . . . what I . . . really . . .’ she paused.

‘I’m sensing a but, Oona. What is it?’

‘I’d like to discuss my wages, Jack.’ There, she’d said it.

‘I’m glad you brought that up. I’ve been waiting for the right moment to discuss it with you. You know how it’s been this past few days. Have lunch with me?’ He stood up from behind his desk. ‘We can talk about it then.’

She nodded, a smile lifting her face. The phone rang out and within seconds, he was pulling on his overcoat. ‘Trouble at the docks, and Oona, if I’m not back by twelve, meet me in O’Keefe’s in Abbey Street.’

 

***

 

When she arrived, Jack was sitting in a window seat glancing down the menu. She stood for a second looking across at him. How handsome he was. Soothing, classical music played in the background. They both ordered the leek and potato soup. It was cold outside and the soup was just what she needed.

As they tucked into the tasty soup and crusty homemade bread, Jack asked, ‘When is Sean off to Limerick?’

‘Next weekend, and I can’t say I’m looking forward to him going.’

‘I’ve no children, so I don’t know what it’s like. I’m sure he’ll have a great time, though. I was in a boys’ rugby team when I was ten, but I outgrew it, I’m afraid. Sean seems more dedicated.’

‘Yes, he is. It keeps him out of trouble.’ And, just as she was hoping Jack wouldn’t keep her hanging on for a decision about her wages, he said, ‘Oona, about what you asked me earlier. I’d like to offer you promotion.’

Stunned, she frowned.

‘I could do with an assistant manager. Your salary would be considerably more, of course.’ Smiling, he continued, ‘We make a good team. I’m thinking of advertising your position.’ He leaned forward in his chair. ‘That is, if you’re happy to share my workspace? It makes sense with an office so big. I suppose you noticed I’ve been trying to make it girl-friendly. Not sure it doesn’t still need a woman’s touch.’

She could have cried, and ended up biting her lip in an attempt to stave off tears.

‘What do you say?’

She swallowed to relieve the lump in her throat and, in spite of everything and the fact that they were in such a public place, tears filled her eyes.

‘I never intended to make you cry.’ He frowned. ‘Wasn’t it what you wanted?’

She lowered her head and her dark hair fell across her face, hiding the tears.

‘Do you need time to consider?’

‘No. No, I don’t.’ She brushed back her hair and looked up at him. ‘Thank you, Jack, that’s wonderful.’ He had no idea how much it meant to her. Her money worries had turned her into someone she hardly recognised, and tonight she’d go and see Connie to tell her the good news. She stood up, a smile lifting her face. ‘I’ll be back in a second,’ she said and made her way towards the powder room.