THE OTHER BROWNE KIDS HAD THEIR SUMMER outings too, and thanks to the St Vincent de Paul charity they even managed to get themselves a holiday. They had a two-week stay at the ‘Sunshine Home’ in Skerries. Not for the first time did Agnes bless the Vincent de Paul.
Agnes herself spent the time without the children with Marion. The two drank, talked, walked, and even took a couple of coach trips down the country. Marion was more full of life than Agnes had ever seen her and they laughed themselves silly. However, when the sun began to set a little earlier, and the scent of summer had got thinner in the air, Marion’s enthusiasm began to flag. By mid-autumn she was getting tired more easily. She became the victim of huge mood swings, the brunt of which were borne by an increasingly depressed Tommo. It was, Agnes reflected, as if Marion knew she had just had her last summer. Once again Agnes tried to get Marion to give the stall a break for a while and spend the time at home.
‘I’d die at home all day every day,’ Marion would say with a wry grin. Agnes wondered if she knew. She suspected that she did, for Marion began to do funny things – things that were out of character. For instance, she now held Tommo’s hand – in the pub, out shopping, all the time. And one chilly morning when Marion came over with the bovril for the morning break they had an unusual conversation.
When the fags were lit it was time for the ritual chat, but instead of the usual chatter, Marion opened with a question: ‘Have you any dreams, Agnes?’
‘Oh Jaysus, I have. I’d love to win the sweepstake and get the fuck outta here.’ The two laughed. Then came a pause.
‘Ah no, I mean real dreams,’ Marion asked again.
‘Like at night in bed?’
‘No … How do I mean it? Yeh know, sometimes you feel that life is passin’ you by … you’re doin’ nothin’, oh you’re busy all right, but your not doin’ anythin’. D’ye ever feel that?’
‘I haven’t a clue what you’re bleedin’ talkin’ about.’
‘Ah yeh know …’
‘I don’t know, Marion, I don’t. Busy doin’ nothin’ – what the fuck is that supposed to mean?’
‘Cliff Richard!’ Marion exclaimed.
‘What about him?’
‘You told me once that you’d love to dance with Cliff Richard. Am I right?’
‘Yeh.’
‘Well, that’s what I mean! That’s a real dream. That’s something that could happen!’
‘Oh sure, Marion. Cliff will stroll down Moore Street to my stall and say: How yeh, Agnes, give us five red apples and, c’mere, will yeh dance with us?’
‘Could happen. I’m not sure about the apples though!’
The two women laughed again, and Agnes was relieved that Marion wasn’t going off her rocker. But Marion wasn’t finished yet.
‘Do you know what I’d like to do before I die?’
Marion said this without looking at Agnes and likewise Agnes looked away, scratched her neck and tried to sound as casual as she possibly could. ‘What?’
‘I’d love to learn to drive!’ Marion answered, excited.
‘What? Drive? Drive what?’
‘A car, of course!’
‘But you haven’t got a car.’
‘So? People do learn Spanish.’
‘What’s that got to do with drivin’ a car?’
‘People learn Spanish and they don’t go to Spain, so why shouldn’t I learn how to drive?’
Agnes had no answer for this perverted logic. She just sat open-mouthed. Marion took this as a request for more information and went on.
‘There’s a drivin’ school in Talbot Street. I called in, and it costs nine pounds for fifteen lessons. That’s a savin’ of over two pound, cause it’s fifteen shillings a lesson. It’s a special pre-Christmas offer. What do yeh think?’
Agnes still did not change her expression. She was digesting all of this, slowly. She spoke slowly too. ‘You’re goin’ to pay out nine pounds … to learn to drive something you haven’t got?’
‘It’s me dream …’
‘Fuck the dream! Get a cheaper dream. You’re out of your mind, Marion, really, it’s ridiculous!’
Neither of the two women spoke for a while, well not to each other anyway. Agnes would take a sup of bovril and say, ‘Drive, me arse,’ to herself, and other than that all was silent. Marion stood and took the mugs, brushed down her apron and screwed the stopper back on the flask. She was just about to leave, but instead she put her hand on Agnes’s arm and said: ‘If you could dance with Cliff Richard for nine pounds you’d fuckin’ jump at it!’ And she walked back to her stall.
And it wasn’t over. That night after the Bingo, Marion brought up the subject again. The two were on their second round of pints, the post-mortem on the Bingo was finished and as usual both were taking in what was happening at the tables around them.
‘There’s Dermot Flynn,’ Marion pointed out.
‘Dermot Flynn? Where?’ Agnes strained her neck.
‘Over there, at the domino table.’
‘Oh I see him. He’s lookin’ well.’
‘Is he happy with his move out of town?’
‘I don’t know. I haven’t seen him since they moved. You can be sure she’s happy. She has notions, that wan!’
‘Yeh, town wouldn’t be good enough for her.’ Marion confirmed that Dermot Flynn’s wife was a snob.
‘Mind you …’ Marion continued, ‘when you can drive you can move where you like.’ She took a sip. Agnes saw the bait splashing in the water. She was tempted to change the subject and annoy Marion, but she had already given it some thought. Marion was right, Agnes would pay nine pounds to fulfil her dream and dance with Cliff – she’d pay ninety pounds if she had it! So, if Marion could fulfil her dream, stupid as it was, then why shouldn’t she? So she rose to the bait.
‘I was thinkin’ about that, Marion.’
‘About what, Agnes?’ Marion was milking it!
‘You learnin’ to drive, what you said today.’
‘Oh yeh! Janey, I forgot about that – what about it?’
‘You’re right!’
‘Am I? D’ye think so, Agnes?’ Marion was excited now.
‘Yeh, yeh are, do it!’
‘Ah I’m delighted you agree with it, Agnes. The man in the school said he could take us out next Tuesday night for the first one!’
‘Lovely. Wait a minute! What do yeh mean us? ‘
‘Us. You and me. I’m not gettin’ into a car with a stranger on me own.’
‘Well, I’m not gettin’ in with yeh – who’ll be drivin’?’
‘I will.’
‘Yeh can fuck off, Marion Monks, if you think I’m goin’ to be your first victim!’
‘Ah ye’ll be all right, Agnes. The car has controls on his side as well, it’s … it’s bisexual, he can take over any time he likes. You just have to sit in the back – mortal support, that’s all!’
‘No.’
‘Agnes … for yer pal.’
‘NO, NO, NO!’
‘I’ll get you a cider. PJ, when you’re ready?’
‘You can buy all the cider in China, the answer is NO. N.O. – NO!’