It was as fine a June day as you get - the first real warmth of summer. The car nosed its way slowly along the narrow road with the grass line in the centre brushing the underside. Mary drove carefully manoeuvring around the potholes, occasionally almost stopping to avoid damaging the car. It was heavily weighted in the boot and on the back seat with holiday luggage. In the passenger seat Mary’s father watched every inch of the road; a new gate here, Seamus O’Sullivan has gone over to silage; the son has finally won out, Paddy Conlon has put up a lean-to on the shed. There was always something to notice since the last time. They arrived at the top of the hill and looked down on the long finger of peninsula poking out into the Atlantic. Through the haze the horizon was indistinct; a good sign for the weather. This was the moment when Mary’s father finally admitted he was on holiday.
The road took them away to the right between sparse hedges and low stonewalls with thorn trees scalded on the windward side, branches pointing inland. They arrived at the lane to the cottage to find the gate open, and drove up. The hedges on either side had been breasted and the line of grass up the middle, cut. The door of the cottage was ajar, and every window open. There was a stack of freshly chopped logs in the open shed and the semi-dilapidated garden seat had been painted. Bridie and Paddy had prepared the place for the Doctor’s holiday, as they had done every year for the last sixteen years and as Paddy’s mother had done for many years before. Mary with her mother and father and brother and sister never missed a year here as long as she could remember. She had come with her father and sister since her mother died and alone with her father since her sister was married. She was the youngest and was now working in the practice.
Mary pulled up to the door and went around to let her father out. He was stiff after the long journey but she noticed that he was slowing up recently and she had to help him out of the car.
"Where else could a body want to be?" he said as he stretched his legs and walked over to smell the old fashioned rose beside the door. Mary took a bag off the back seat and went into the cottage. As she expected: it was spotless. On the table there was an enamel can of milk, a bowl of eggs and a square of brown bread. When she went outside again to unpack the car, Paddy arrived.
"Hello Doctor, hello Mary, did ye have a good journey?"
"We did, thank you Paddy, and how is Bridie and all the family?" Mary enquired.
"The besht" said Paddy. "Ye’ll have the weather for yeer holiday."
"Have you had this for long?" the Doctor asked.
Two days, and it’s set" replied Paddy. "I have the boat ready, will you come out in the evening?"
"I certainly will."
"How is Jim" enquired Mary.
"He’s fine, the Mammy has him told for a week that ye’re coming, and he has her tormented to know when ye’d be here. No doubt he’ll be up in short."
Bridie and Paddy had eight children and Jim was the third youngest. He was ten now and two summers ago he took to Mary and followed her around for most of the holiday without saying much. Each time they came since he didn’t forget her and spent as much time as he could around the house doing jobs and messages. Mary had become fond of Jim but he never presumed; he always waited to be asked. She took him for walks and out in the car, and talked to him about nature and the sea. He was bright and in his reticent way asked thoughtful questions. He was company for Mary when her father was snoozing or fishing and she was looking forward to seeing him.
Paddy left Mary and the Doctor and went to the shed to tidy up the last few logs and put away the axe.
Mary was pouring a cup of tea for her father when she heard a gentle knock on the open door. There was Jim.
"Hello" he said. "I knew ye were coming."
He stood there wearing a tartan shirt, too big for him, and jeans, his fair hair already starting to bleach.
"Hello Jim. My, you’ve grown."
He smiled. Mary ruffled his hair, put her arm around his shoulder and led him into the kitchen. Mary’s father greeted him warmly and repeated her comment:
"You’ve grown."
"Would you like a cup of tea? I have nothing else until I go to the Shop. Would you like to go to the shop yourself?" Mary asked.
"No thanks, I’m grand."
Mary poured herself a cup of tea and sat down. Jim stayed standing.
"They’re after destroying the hedge of honeysuckle at Conlon’s lane. They had a digger in to widen the entrance."
"Is it all gone?" Mary asked.
"No there’s a small bit of it left."
"When I finish unpacking we’ll go and have a look."
Jim helped Mary to empty the car and waited in the kitchen until she came downstairs. The Doctor had settled into a deckchair at the front of the cottage and Mary and Jim set off down the lane.
"How is school?" she asked.
"There’s no school, we’re on our holidays."
"I know, but how was it since I saw you last?"
"O K" Jim replied. He didn’t want to talk about school but was looking forward to his walk with Mary and listening to her talk about the weather, the seasons, the hedges and the wild flowers. They came to Conlon’s and found as Jim had said. About three quarters of the finest stretch of honeysuckle hedge in the area had gone.
"That’s very sad," said Mary. "And the saddest thing is not that we will miss it, but that whoever destroyed it didn’t know what they were doing."
"Maybe they did and didn’t care," said Jim.
"Maybe that’s it" said Mary feeling pleased that Jim head learned so much.
They walked on to the harbour where the breeze from the sea tempered the heat. The boats were all out. They walked along the path across the headland and back to the cottage, where the Doctor was assembling his rod and sorting out his fishing gear.
"I want to bring the milk can and bowl back to your mother" said Mary.
"Sure I’ll bring them when I’m going."
"I want to thank her, and anyway I want to see her, to see how she is."
Mary washed the can and the bowl and leaving Jim behind helping her father with his fishing gear she went to see Bridie.
Mary, as usual, got a great welcome, and in response to her enquiries, an account of all the family.
"I hope that Jim won’t be annoying you and the Doctor" said Bridie. "He couldn’t wait for the day and was like a yo-yo all morning looking to see if you were there."
"Jim is no trouble," said Mary. "We both love him around the place. In fact he’s a great help and good company."
"He’s the odd one out here," said Bridie. "He’ll kick football all right but he’d prefer to read. He has the books from the school library read out and has me tormented going to the library when I go to town. Be sure to run him if he gets in the way."
When Mary got back to the cottage Jim was winding onto a reel line her father was holding at the other end. Mary went inside and set the table for three.
During the holiday Jim never missed a day at the cottage. He would arrive after breakfast and was outside pottering around until Mary came out. He went with her wherever she went during the day and went home of his own accord around nine, a deadline set by Bridie. Mary was as fond of him as ever. He had a knack of fitting in and was sensitive even to the Doctor’s little ways and they were both taken by how bright he was and interested in everything that went on.
At breakfast on the morning before they were due to leave Mary asked her father:
"If Paddy and Bridie were to agree, would you mind if Jim came home with us and went to school at St Dominic’s, he’s old enough to go into the prep department?"
"I hadn’t thought of anything like that," replied her father, "but I’ll leave it to you. Come to think of it, it’s a good idea, if his parents agree. The responsibility would fall on you and Teresa. Would Teresa be able to manage when you’re on duty?"
"Of course she would. Hadn’t she got six of her own?" Mary and her father discussed the proposal in great detail and Mary went to see Bridie. She found her at the tap in the yard washing out a bucket.
"It’d be all right with Jim, to be sure, he’d follow you to the end of the earth," was her initial response. Are you serious?" asked Bridie.
"I am," said Mary.
"Well, come inside ‘till we have a cup of tea."
Mary led the way into the kitchen and lifting the cover on the cooker slid the kettle across.
"Mary," said Bridie, "you don’t mind me asking, but why would you want to do this?"
"Two reasons," replied Mary. "The first is that my father and I are both fond of Jim and would like to have him in the house. The second is that he’s bright and loves books, and living in a town he’d have easy access to a public library and things in school that he hasn’t got in the country."
"I know he has the brains, and I’m not able to keep the books to him, for I only get to town once in a while. You’d be doing him a great honour." After a pause she added: "as far as I’m concerned he can go if it’s all right with Paddy."
Paddy made no objection. Mary put the proposition to Jim when she got back to the cottage. He gave an uncharacteristic display of excitement and said: "Will I be coming with you to-morrow?"
Plans were laid for Jim to travel later on, in good time to settle in and find his way around before school started. The Doctor and Mary left the following day. Mary was quietly excited at the prospect of Jim coming late in the summer; she could think of nothing else on the journey home. She went over in her mind the reasons she gave Bridie: that she and her father were both fond of Jim and that it was a pity not to let him have as good an education as possible. She hoped that Jim or Bridie or Paddy wouldn’t have second thoughts. She planned his room, his uniform and daily routine and went over in her mind who she might ask in to play with him after school and at week-ends when she was on duty. She knew that she couldn’t fill all his boyish needs and that it would be bad for him to spend too much of his time with adults.
The day arrived. Mary drove to Dublin to meet Jim from the train. For the first time she had feelings of apprehension, as much for him as for herself. She imagined how he felt on the train, away from home on his own for the first time. She was also afraid how she would cope if he was homesick; it would be worse for Jim to have tried and failed than not to have tried at all. But from her point of view she would have done her best. The mixture of motives and needs of both of them became clearer to her.
The train arrived, the crowd thinned and there he was, with the ticket collector. His face broke into a gentle smile when he saw her.
"Hello Jim."
"Hello Mary." She was pleased he used her name. His bag was brand new, as were his shirt, his navy jumper, his jeans and black shoes. She felt sorry for the discomfort he must have felt dressed up, and how the others would have teased him before he left. She thanked the collector, put her arm around his shoulder and went towards the car. Jim took in everything around him, and Mary slipped into telling him things and explaining just like on their walks across the fields and by the sea. She was conscious how new everything was for him here, and on the journey out of the city she stopped herself pointing out things, not to saturate him.
As they drove up the avenue Jim was in awe at the extent of the grounds around the house. The Doctor met them at the door. "My, Jim, you’re looking smart."
"He’s had a long journey and must be hungry" said Mary and brought Jim upstairs to his room, which had been her brother Tom’s until he went away.
"You might like to change out of your good clothes, and then come down to the kitchen," Mary said as she left him. Jim sat on the bed and looked around the room. He couldn’t believe that he would have a room this size all to himself. His eye fell on the bookcase and he went to have a look. He changed into his next best clothes, which had been his Sunday best until his most recent acquisitions, and went downstairs. He got lost in the big house until he heard Mary calling him from the kitchen where she had sandwiches, biscuits and Coke ready.
There were four days before school started - enough time for Jim to find his way around the house and the town and his route to school. Teresa, the housekeeper, who was always there when Mary was on duty, chatted easily to Jim and put him at his ease.
For the first couple of weeks Jim absorbed everything and said little. He watched and waited. Mary brought him to school on the first day. She had second thoughts about arranging for him to meet some boys beforehand, believing that he would have to make his own friends, which he did. By the end of the second week he was talking about Ray, and was soon asked to Ray’s house to play after school and Mary encouraged Jim to have him back. A routine became established. Jim in the house didn’t interfere at all with the Doctor, the privacy of whose study he instinctively respected. Mary helped him to acclimatize to the new routine and Teresa looked after the practicalities and set the boundaries when Jim and Ray became too expansive.
The first term went quickly. He had one bout of homesickness but it passed after a few days and Mary insisted that Jim write home, no matter how short a letter, once a week. Bridie wrote back occasionally. At Christmas Jim went home for a few days. He was looking forward to it, but the thing he found most difficult was sharing a bed and a bedroom with two of his brothers. He was wise enough not to comment as his brothers and sisters teased him already about his posh school and his ‘uppity’ ways. Jim did not affect these ways; they were adaptions to his new way of life. He had learned to cope with teasing even before he went away. In his first term Jim had done well at school; he was third in his class at the Christmas exams and his report was good. Although he played football he didn’t get on any of the teams and his conduct was ‘excellent’.
Mary and the Doctor were glad to see Jim back after Christmas, and he was glad to be back to his room and a bed to himself. For the few days before school started he and Ray spent their time playing between Ray’s house and what had now become Jim’s. There was no end to the variety of games they played. The school routine started again and Jim’s Christmas marks and report gave him confidence in his work. When he came in from school he would have a snack and go to his room to do his homework. Only occasionally did he ask Mary for help.
The next ‘first’ was the summer holidays. It was decided that Jim would stay with Mary and the Doctor until they were going to the cottage and then stay on at home after they left, until just before school in September. Jim knew he would miss Ray and didn’t look forward to the cramped accommodation and the teasing from the others. Already at Christmas they had started calling him ‘the professor’. He knew the only way to counter it was to ignore it and get stuck into the rough and tumble as best he could. For the first time since he left he looked forward to going home. Somehow distance had drawn him closer to his mother and he looked forward to her occasional letters. Jim’s mind raced ahead. He enjoyed being in on that part of Mary and the Doctor’s holiday he had never experienced before; the packing of the car and the journey. He was fascinated by their conversation about the things they looked forward to and the expectation of escape from their routine, amidst the routine of his own family and their neighbours.
The journey was long and hot with a break to have Teresa’s packed lunch. Arriving in the late afternoon he had a strange sensation of divided loyalty, as he took his bags and went home. As usual he spent his time between the two cottages as long as the Doctor and Mary were there and he stayed on at home when they went back. This time home he had long conversations with his mother and told her about school and Ray and living with the Doctor and Mary. She was happy that he had got the chance and was taking it so well and didn’t loose an opportunity to tell him what he owed to the Doctor and Mary. His father said little. He said little to any of his children, but he had such regard for the Doctor Jim knew he must be pleased with the arrangement. Jim was back in time for the new school year and was looking forward to it. He was going into the Senior School a year ahead of his age, but was well able for it.
As the years passed Jim became more confident. He understood what the Doctor and Mary were doing for him and in his own way he tried to show his appreciation. His friendship with Ray was as firm as ever. One day Mary overheard them talking about girls from the convent, that they passed on their way home from school. When it came to the Inter, Jim’s results were excellent. Now he had to choose his subjects for the Leaving. He was diffident when discussing this with Mary, as he wasn’t sure that the arrangement included planning for university. Mary left him in no doubt that it did and was thrilled when Jim said: "thank you very much, would it be all right if I did medicine?" Mary hugged him for the first time. He was embarrassed and blushed, but was pleased she was so happy.
"I hear good news of what you want to do," the Doctor said to Jim later in the day. This too he was glad of as he had little opportunity of pleasing the Doctor, apart from running the odd message.
Jim chose his subjects and worked as hard as ever. Ray, who was good average hoped to do engineering and they planned to go to university together. After Christmas in Jim’s last year at school the Doctor died suddenly. Jim was automatically included with the family in all the arrangements at the funeral. After the rest of the family had left he felt sorry for Mary, and spent what time he could with her but his Leaving was in the offing and much as she enjoyed his company she insisted that he didn’t neglect his work. Jim broached the subject of university again under the changed circumstances, but Mary insisted without hesitation that her father ‘s death made no difference to that. Jim duly got the points he needed for medical school, to Mary’s delight, and Ray got his points for engineering. The following autumn they went together to university and shared ‘digs’ in Dublin.
His base was still with Mary, but Jim kept contact with his mother by letter, less frequently now that Mary wasn’t there to remind him. He was determined to get his pre-med exams first time and worked hard. Despite work, he enjoyed university life and Dublin. He and Ray never went out during the week but on Saturday nights they went for a few drinks and on to a student dance.
At Christmas Mary and Jim were invited to Mary’s sister in England. Mary went but Jim decided to go home for a few days. Bridie was as proud as Punch that Jim was going to be a doctor. The teasing had stopped, and although they didn’t let him see it, his brothers and sisters were proud of him too. For those that were still at home it was a boost to their status with the neighbours. He stayed only four days and went back to the ‘digs’ to study.
In June he passed his exams and was on course for first year medicine. Ray passed his exams too and the two went off to England for the summer to work on a building site to earn some money. Mary assured Jim that it wasn’t necessary but he wanted to make some contribution to his fees and his keep. Mary went to the cottage on her own. It was lonely without her father and Jim and she only stayed a week. When she got home she phoned her sister in England and went to her for her second week’s holiday. Jim was back at the beginning of September with a free month before term started. Mary was delighted to see him. Jim did some jobs around the house and in her free time Mary began to teach him to play golf. The four weeks passed quickly and on his last night Mary took Jim out for a meal. They both enjoyed it and got on well together as adults. Mary missed Jim when he went back, and Teresa didn’t help by saying at least once a day: "the place is very quiet without Jim."
Jim’s second year at university began with the same pattern as the first. Lectures, study and Saturday night out. One Saturday night he met for the second time Brenda, a final year economics student he had met briefly at the end of the previous term, and now instead of going out on Saturday nights with Ray he started to go out with Brenda. As the term wore on two, on the face of it, unconnected things began to happen. He became more enamoured of Brenda and less enamoured of medicine. He began to see Brenda more often but neither of them neglected their work as Brenda had finals coming up and Jim owed it to Mary to stick to his studies. By the time the year’s exams came round Jim was clear about two things. One was that Brenda was the girl for him; the other was that he had made a mistake doing medicine. He had no problem telling Mary the first, as he had already mentioned Brenda to her, but he was overcome with anxiety when he thought of telling Mary that he couldn’t go on with medicine. Brenda and Jim both sat their exams and then sat down to decide what to do. Brenda already had a job in England to which she would go. Jim would go with her, having first gone home to tell Mary that he wasn’t going on with his studies. Jim’s nerve failed. He couldn’t bring himself to tell Mary face-to-face, so he wrote a long letter telling her his plans and thanking her for everything.
Brenda and Jim were soon engaged and their wedding arranged for the following summer in Brenda’s home parish in Dublin, with Ray as best man. An invitation went out to Mary to which she replied to Brenda’s parents, regretting she would not be able to attend, as she would be on holiday in America. Enclosed with her reply was a letter to Jim, which Brenda’s mother forwarded to him.
It read:
Dear Jim,
I am very sorry indeed that I will not be able to attend your wedding,
I will be in America. I’m sorry that I cannot be there as nothing would give me greater pleasure than to see you and Brenda married.
I wish you both all the happiness that life can bring and hope that when you get a chance you’ll call to see me.
Please give my love to Brenda.
Your friend,
Mary.
Jim was on his own when he got the letter. When he read it he burst into tears.
Jim and Brenda were married. Bridie and Paddy were there and most of his brothers and sisters. After their honeymoon they went back to England.
One evening the following summer Mary came in tired from her rounds, poured herself a drink in the study, kicked her shoes off and put her feet up. She had taken the first sip when the doorbell rang. She sat for a minute and then dragged herself up to answer it. She opened the door and there stood Jim. It took her a second to take it in. He smiled gently.
"Hello, Mary," and she threw her arms around him. He held her tightly, lifted her off the ground and put her down.
"Where’s Brenda?" she asked.
"In the car."
"Well go and get her while I put on my shoes."
Jim brought Brenda into the hall.
"Brenda this is Mary." The two women embraced warmly.
"I feel I already know you," said Brenda.
Mary brought them in and poured drinks. Jim and Brenda were on their way from the ferry to stay with Bridie and Paddy. Mary insisted they stay the night.
As Mary took from the oven the meal Teresa left for her, to adapt it for three of them, Jim said : "I just got my chemistry degree in England. They gave me a year’s credit for my two years in Dublin. I start teaching when we go back." Mary was thrilled.
They talked into the small hours of the morning and when Mary was showing them to their room Jim asked: "do you mind if I show Brenda the room I used to have?"
"Of course not, and there’s a shirt and a couple of odd socks there you didn’t know you had. Teresa was right; she said you’d come back for them some day."