Copyright 2023

Chapter 7

One Monday morning I was resting at home after a particularly strenuous but lucrative evening. The telephone rang; it was Agnes.

“Marie, are you sitting down?” she asked. I was and informed her so.

“I have some bad news for you,” she said. My heart sank – was it Mammy or one of my siblings?

“I’ve had a phone call from your Mammy. I’m sorry to tell you that your Daddy has died. She said he didn’t come home from working on Saturday and they found him out in the fields. It seems he had a heart attack. She decided not to ring you first, and asked me ot break the news to you.”

I was silent for so long that she said, “Marie, are you there?”

“Er, yes, Agnes. It’s a bit of a shock.” In truth I felt nothing. I no longer hated Daddy for throwing me out. In fact he might have done me a favour. If I had stayed in Kilcarnie, by now I might have been forced to marry to some oaf of a farmhand, selected by Daddy to help him on the farm, and already have several snivelling brats clinging to my skirts. No, I was much better off where I was in Dublin.

“I told your Mammy to give you a few minutes to get used to the news after I broke it to you,’ said Agnes. I thanked her and she rang off so that Mammy could contact me, which she did a few minutes later.

“Marie, is that you? Did Agnes break the news to you? I thought it was better for a friend to do it.”

“Yes, Mammy, I’m sorry to hear it,” I said. That was a lie but a necessary one. as in fact I felt nothing,

It had already occurred to me that Mammy couldn’t possibly afford a proper funeral and that Daddy would be put in a pauper’s grave and serve him right for how he had treated me. Then I had chided myself. I was better than that, and anyway it would not hurt Daddy whatever happened to his body, but it would hurt Mammy deeply to have the neighbours whispering about how Daddy had had the cheapest funeral possible.

“Mammy, as the eldest child I would like to pay for a proper funeral for Daddy including a Requiem Mass,” I said. I could hear over the telephone that Mammy was crying.

“Darling, that is sweet of you, but it would cost you too much,” she said.

“Have you enquired how much it would cost?” I asked.

“At least twenty pounds, I could never afford to pay you back,” she replied.

“I don’t need paying back, Mammy, I have a good job with the government and I can afford it,” I replied. Another lie but I couldn’t possibly tell her how I really earned most of my money. “I am going to send you an express postal order for £40. You will need extra money to buy suitable mourning clothes for you and the children, and also for the wake.”

“Clothes? The wake?” she murmured, seemingly in a daze. Afraid she might faint, I asked if she was sitting down. “Ask Mrs O’Flaherty to get you a chair,” I said.

“Oh darling, I don’t know what to say,” she said. “I’ve been so worried about what I should do to bury Daddy. This is like a dream.”

“Mammy, do you mind if I come to the funeral? I would like to.”

“Of course you can, darling. You are his daughter after all, and I think he came to regret how he treated you and realised it was not your fault, but he was a proud man and couldn’t admit it.”

“That’s all in the past now, Mammy. We must let bygones be bygones,” I said.

Having established that the funeral was to be on Wednesday in the late morning. I left Mammy to approach the funeral director to tell him that she would have the money to pay the bill tomorrow, and that he should address any queries to me.

As soon as I hung up the telephone, I dressed and hurried down to the post office to arrange an express delivery of the postal order for £40 to Mammy, care of the Kilcarnie Post Office, and then I went to a ladies dress shop to select a suitably conservative black dress and hat for the funeral, not wanting to upstage Mammy whom I knew would not be able to bring herself to spend too much on her own attire or that of the children.

There is very little entertainment in a village like Kilcarnie and I knew that most of the women would be attending the funeral if only to comment later on how the bereaved family looked. My next job was to contact Mrs O’Toole and explain why I needed a few days off. She was very kind and offered her condolences, which I accepted without demur not wishing to go into details about my relationship with Daddy.

I was up very early on Wednesday morning to bathe and dress. I wore no jewelry apart from my stud earrings. I didn’t want to appear well off.

I drove to Kilcarnie and drew up outside the farm about nine o’clock. When I knocked on the farmhouse door, Mammy opened it, dressed in black, and for a moment her expression was blank as she said, “I’m sorry ma’am, I think you’ve come to the wrong….” Then suddenly her vision cleared.

“Marie! Is it really you?”

“Yes Mammy,” I replied and we fell into each other’s arms and I confess that Mammy was not the only one to shed tears.

When we had recovered from our initial emotion, Mammy said “What am I thinking? Come inside.”

I followed her down the familiar hallway and into the kitchen which didn’t seem to have changed in the five years since I last saw it, apart from the children sitting around the kitchen table, now suitably dressed in black dresses or grey trousers and shirts with black ties, and looking quite grown up.

“Here is your older sister, Marie,” said Mammy, “Don’t you remember her?”

They didn’t of course and who could blame them? I had left as a farm girl, tears streaming down my cheeks, and now I had returned as a woman and a sophisticated resident of Dublin. I remembered them though, and I named them all as I looked around the table. “Hello Padraigh, Seamus, Eibhlin, Roisin, Saoirse. It was as I named the final girl that my heart gave a lurch. She was holding a tiny baby in her arms!

Mammy saw the look of shock on my face and hastily said, “Saoirse, show Marie her smallest sister.

“Sister?” I stared at Mammy and she actually blushed. “I’ll tell you more later. She’s three months old and I named her Mary Anna.” I moved closer. She was the sweetest little baby I had ever seen, awake and alert, she actually smiled at me and my heart melted!

Later, when we were alone Mammy explained how Mary Anna came to be. “I thought I was at the change of life,” she said. “My monthly flow was not regular anymore and what with my age, I suppose we thought it safe not to take precautions with calculating which days of the month were ‘safe’. When I had no flow for two months I thought nothing of it but then I had that feeling that a woman does when she is expecting, and sure enough the doctor said there was another little one on the way.

“When she arrived, I told Daddy that I wanted to name her Mary Anna. It was in memory of the daughter I thought I might never see again. Daddy was not happy about it but I wore him down, and although she was unexpected, now I couldn’t be happier with her.” I think there were more mutual tears shed.

It was time to leave for the church which was about twenty minutes walk away, but even a small baby can prove heavy, so I suggested that Mammy and Saoirse with baby Mary Anna ride in my car, and we timed our arrival to match with the walking party. Father O’Malley was at the porch to greet us and Mammy introduced me to him. He was there when I had left the village, but like the others, he did not recognize me. As I expected, most of the village women turned up and there was much whispering behind hands as someone realized who I was and spread the word around. I was the focus of much attention – the ‘prodigal daughter’ I suppose.

The Mass started and I confess I didn’t remember any of it, after all it was five years since I had been to church. When the part came where we all stood up to take communion, I felt that I should too to please Mammy. Father O’Malley hesitated when he came to me and whispered ‘Are you in a ‘state of grace’ my child?’ I nearly laughed out loud. Me, a woman who had sex with men for money? Remembering Mammy, I kept a straight face and whispered humbly back ‘Yes, father.” He put the wafer of bread on my tongue and I swallowed it. The earth did not open up and swallow me. After all, it was only a piece of bread wasn’t it? A symbol and nothing more.

At the conclusion of the Mass, Daddy’s coffin was carried out into the churchyard and the grave that had been dug for him. There were final prayers and I held Mammy’s arm as she wept again as the coffin was lowered into the earth. Then after casting a handful of earth onto the coffin, we all turned away as the grave diggers began to shovel earth into the hole. It was all over, but not quite. Now we had to repair to the church hall where a tea with sandwiches and cake were laid out for the mourners and congregation, and this too I had paid for, but I didn’t mind. I’m sure a lot of the women present had come for a free meal, and they didn’t stint themselves. By the time it was all over, all the plates had been cleared.

There was going to be a wake at the local pub in the evening, so I couldn’t drive back to Dublin until the next day. I was going to look for a room to rent, but Mammy insisted that I could have my old room back, and that Roisin could share with Saoirse for one night and they seemed genuinely happy for me to do so, so I agreed.

This wasn’t a wake in the traditional sense since Daddy was already buried – in fact I think it was more an excuse for the men of the village and a few women, to get drunk. It was held at Fitzgerald’s Pub, and since I never drank much at any pub visit, and Mammy and I were the only members of the family old enough to attend, after Mary Anna was fed and the older girls given strict instructions to get one of the boys to run to the pub to get us, if need be I drove us down to the pub.

I was paying for this event too, and I sought out the publican and covertly gave him fifty pounds, telling him that the guests could have one drink of spirits and after that only beer, and that I would call by the following day and settle up with him if there was any extra cost. He seemed happy enough with that, and I didn’t expect any change from my fifty pounds.

By the time we arrived at about seven o’clock, the party was in full swing and I think everyone had collected their shot of spirits. The noise of chatter was overpowering as everyone strove to make themselves heard above the general hubbub. Mammy and I found ourselves seats in an inglenook. She drank beer and I sipped on a glass of wine. A fiddler appeared and entertained us with Irish reels, although he could scarcely be heard above the general hubbub, and people coming up to offer their condolences and tell us what a good man Daddy was. Naturally we both smiled and nodded

At one point a ruddy faced young man, about my age came up to address me. He already seemed slightly drunk as he slurred his words.

“Hello Marie, it’s good to see you again.” As I looked at him blankly, he continued “You don’t remember me do you. I’m Padraigh (so many Padraighs in Ireland!). I tried to French kiss you once and you nearly bit my tongue off!”

I felt my face glowing with embarrassment. “I hope I didn’t permanently injure you,” I said.

“Nah, I’m tougher than that,” he said. “Anyway, I’m married to Niamh now, do you remember her?” Before I could answer, he continued, “We’ve three weans now and another on the way.”

Remembering now how I once considered him as possible marriage material, I decided that I’d had a lucky escape.

“I was going to say my condolences on the death of your Daddy, but I seem to remember you two had a row and you left Kilcarnie?”

“Yes we did,” I said, determined I wasn’t going into details.

“Well it’s nice to see you again. Next time you’re here, come and see us. Niamh would like that.”

I only vaguely remembered Niamh, and decided that a visit would be the last thing I did, as arriving in my smart city clothes would only embarrass her. In fact, the more I looked around the more I realised that I could never be part of village life again, I was now an urban woman.

Mammy and I left as soon as it was decently possible, droving back to the farm, and settling down beside the kitchen hearth for a nice cup of tea.

“Mammy, we need to talk,” I said. “You can’t run the farm, and I’m sure the farmer will want you to leave.”

Mammy’s eyes filled with tears. “Sure and I’ve been worried sick about it ever since your Daddy died,” she said.

“Could I make a suggestion?” I said. “I know you will want to stay in the village. I’ve noticed there’s a few houses for sale. How would you feel if I bought one and you and the children could move into it?”

She gasped. “I think I’m hearing things. Are you saying that you could afford to buy a house for me to live in?”

“Yes Mammy, I am. It would be my house of course, but you would live there rent free for as long as you like. It would be a good investment for me and would solve your accommodation problems.”

“Oh Marie!” she cried and putting her arms around me hugged me. “After all that happened to you here, I can scarcely believe it.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Mammy, in fact it really wasn’t mine either. Why don’t I stay another day or two, and we can go around together and see if any of the houses appeal to you?”

I confess that I did not have the most restful night’s sleep in my old room. I know Mammy meant well, but there were too many memories. It was dawn before I finally fell into a deep dreamless sleep, and she left me there until about nine o’clock before waking me with a big farm breakfast of bacon and eggs. I found it hard to eat but did my best. I had become too used to eating sparingly and making sure that I kept my figure. I don’t imagine that the men I met would like a fat woman.

After breakfast, we drove down to the village and arranged to see the available cottages. I left Mammy to choose which one she liked the best, after all she would be the one living in it. I was more concerned about its condition, and fortunately, the one she chose also seemed to be in the best condition. It needed a few things doing of course, but I could pay for those, and I was able to drive the price down on the basis that it had been on the market for some time, being the most expensive of the three, and that some repairs and renovations were required.

Mammy and the family could not move in right away of course, there was the paperwork to be completed, but since I now worked for a solicitor, that was not a problem. I was pleased with my purchase, and I had enough money saved to pay the full cost of it and still have money left over. I knew that Mammy would look after the house and my investment would increase in value over time.

My next visit was to the owner of the farm to negotiate the date at which my family would move out. I had now dressed up and I think this was a good move as he recognized me as a sophisticated young woman and was prepared to accommodate me, especially when he realized that I was taking over responsibility for the farm rent which was slightly in arears and would be paying him up to the time when the family left in about a month.

Before leaving to travel back to Dublin, I informed Mammy that I would be giving her a regular income, and we decided upon five pounds a week initially, but if she needed more then it would be increased.

“I don’t understand how you can afford all this,” said Mammy.

“Since I left Kilcarnie, I have educated myself, and I have a very responsible job with the government, but I can’t tell you what it is,” I said. If you believe that providing sex to politicians is ‘working for the government’, then I feel it was not wholly a lie.

The following day I returned to Dublin, but I promised that the family would see a lot more of me, and this time I knew that I could keep my promise. Agnes was very happy to see me, and I her. I didn’t realise how much I had missed her, and we had a kiss and a hug.

“How did it all go?” she asked.

“As funerals go, I think it went very well, although I’ve never been to another one to compare it. It might have cost me a bit, but it was worth it to know that those old harpies in the village would not be saying that Mammy couldn’t afford a proper funeral for Daddy. Oh, and I bought a house.”

“A house?” gasped Agnes. “Don’t tell me you’re going to live back in Kilcarnie?”

“Not in a thousand years; Kilcarnie and I parted company a long time ago,” I said. “Maybe you didn’t know but Daddy was a tenant farmer, and now he’s gone, the owner will want someone else to take over the farm? Mammy was worried sick about where they would go, so when I suggested I buy a house that she and the rest of the family could live in rent-free as long as they like, she was overwhelmed. It is an investment for me to sell some time in the future, but meanwhile she is settled in a place that she knows.”

“Marie – you’re a good woman,” said Agnes.

I laughed. “If Father O’Malley heard how I earn my money, he would probably say that I’m a very bad woman!” Agnes couldn’t help but laugh too when I told her about me taking communion.

I returned to my work with the Agency. By now I was quite popular and had a number of ‘regulars’ who asked if I was available. Buying the house in Kilcarnie had caused a dent in my savings, but now I was building it up again.

One of my interesting experiences was to introduce an eighteen year old boy to the joys of manhood, in other words take his virginity. I’m sure I was chosen as being the youngest looking of all the women who worked for The Agency, although I was a few years older than him. I think that time with me was a birthday gift from his father who thought it was about time that his son had a practical demonstration of the ‘birds and the bees’.

On the appointed day, I reached his hotel room and knocked on the door and the boy, who I will call Dan opened it. He looked quite a handsome lad, but also terrified and I knew that my first job was to calm him down.

“Dan! I’m Marie, may I come in please?” I said. He suddenly realised that he was blocking the doorway and stood aside to allow me to enter. Once in the room I looked around and commented how nice it looked. I deliberately refrained from commenting on the large bed which dominated it. There was a couch and I sat down and patted the place beside me, inviting him to sit there.
“Dan, we don’t have to do anything that you are uncomfortable with,” I said as he sat nervous and rigid beside me. I could feel he was trembling because it was transmitting through the couch. I turned and smiled at him.

“This is nice,” I said. “Tell me Dan, have you ever kissed a girl?”

“Not really,” he replied. “I’ve kissed my cousin on the cheek, oh and aunties of course, but that doesn’t really count does it?”

“Not really,” I agreed. “When a man and woman are enjoying each other’s company they sometimes kiss on the lips. Would you like me to show you how?”

“Y-Yes please,” he replied, so I moved closer to him and kissed him very gently on the lips. I could feel his trembling starting to subside, which was a good sign. When our lips parted, I said “How was that?”

“That was nice,” he replied. “I could taste your lipstick.”

“Yes, it’s nice,” I replied. “How about we try again, but this time you kiss me?”

Dan leaned towards me and began to gently kiss me. Inevitably his body started to press against my breasts and I knew he could feel that. This kiss lasted quite a long time. When our lips parted and Dan leaned back, his face was flushed. “I never knew a kiss could be like that,” he said.

‘There’s another type of kiss which is even better, it’s called a French kiss,” I said. “Would you like to try it?”

“Oh yes,” he said, so I instructed him that this time when I kissed him he should open his lips a little. When my tongue first touched his he almost started, he was so surprised, but then he really got into the swing of it, and when my tongue retreated into my mouth, he took the hint and his tongue entered my mouth seeking mine. We kissed like this for some minutes and I had no doubt that he would be getting aroused.

When our mouths finally separated, I said to him, “That’s the first stage of making love and it makes us get excited in anticipation of what comes next.” Dan was panting, his face flushed and it was obvious that he was very ready for the next stage.

“Now, I know that you understand what happens when your body gets excited; you must have felt the organ between your legs get hard?”

Dan blushed, and I said ‘There is no need to get embarrassed, it’s something that comes naturally, and when a man and woman get excited, it’s nice for the woman to feel what is happening to the man, like this.”

I reached down and began to fondle his erection through the material of his trousers. He moaned softly at my touch.

“It would be even nicer if I could feel you, rather than through your trousers,” I said. “Do you mind if I unfasten them?”

Dan shook his head, I think he was lost for words. When I had freed his erection from his trousers and underpants, I stroked it gently, but not too much as I knew from experience that young men have a hair trigger. Judging that the time was right, I said to Dan “Why don’t we take our clothes off? We’ll be much more comfortable then.”

He nodded, and as he took off his shoes and socks, trousers and shirt, I stood before him and slowly removed my own clothes. He stared open-mouthed at the first mature woman he had ever seen naked.

“Oh, you are so beautiful,” he said. I smiled, and taking his hand I led him to the bed where I sat him beside me.

“A woman’s body is very soft, so you must be gentle with me,” I said. “And yet we are strong enough to grow a baby within us and then give birth which is often very painful.”

“Have you had a baby?” Dan asked.

I confess that question made my heart miss a beat.

“Not yet, but I hope to one day,” I said.

“You are very brave,” he said.

“If women weren’t brave, there would be no more babies,” I said. “Now I will explain how a baby starts. You will have seen that a woman’s body is different from a man’s but they are made to fit together.” I took his hand and placed it between my legs, showing him where the passage was where his own organ would go.

“When a man puts his organ there and releases his seed, then sometimes a baby is started. It is a very pleasant experience for both the man and woman,” I said. “But sometimes a man and woman want to experience the pleasure without having a baby, so then a man puts a very thin rubber cover over his organ to catch his seed.”

So saying I produced a condom and showed him how to roll it over his organ. He gasped at the feel of my hands. Then I smeared some lubricant over it and I said, “Now we are ready.”

With that I lay back on the bed indicating him to come between my legs and gently enter me. It was very pleasant for me to initiate him, and when his body shook as he reached orgasm, I knew that he would always remember me and his first time.

Before I dressed and left the room, I asked him to promise me that he would always use a condom until he was married. “Remember that a few minutes of pleasure for you can result in a girl having to bear a baby and bring it up.” He promised that he would take my advice to heart and I hope that he did.

A few days later, Mrs O’Toole congratulated me on how I had introduced the young man to the joys of sex. “His father came to settle the account, and tells me that his son has hardly stopped talking about the pretty lady who taught him, and that he hopes to find a girl like her to marry some day.

I smiled. “It is not often that a woman helps to turn a boy into a man,” I said.

“He left an envelope for you,” said Mrs O’Toole and I opened it in front of her.

There was a note which read:

‘Dear Miss Marie,

Thank you so much for the way in which you helped my son become a ‘man’. I am sure he will never forget it. Thank you also for giving him such good advice. Please accept the enclosed as a token of my appreciation.

Sincerely AFM’

Enclosed with the note was one hundred pounds, a very generous gift.

Mrs O’Toole smiled. “Knowing you I’m sure you did a very fine job of his initiation.

To be continued