5

BUT THERE WAS one person Birdie almost forgot about. Louise. Oh Christ. Louise. Birdie did forget about her. For years. Which was not an easy thing to do. Because Louise mattered more than anything to Gussie when he was in his twenties. With her big blue eyes and her high cheekbones and her long brown hair. But it was the smile that seduced people. That glow of pure compassion. And then, out of the blue, Louise returns.

Louise enters the room in a dress of snow. She’s there dancing to the organ music. A Victorian dress, with lace at the waist and hem. Almost transparent because of the thin nature of the material. Fine net sleeves and a flared skirt. Christ, she’s so wonderful. And to be twirling around in the room. Twirling to the organ of Mr Devine.

Gussie was terribly excited when he found her. He insisted Birdie get on the bus to Galway immediately. And she did. And they met in a grotty pub on the quays. Sacred Heart of Jesus, Louise was enormous! Looked down on everyone! And the pub was small and smoky. A den of stale air where middle-aged men with blotchy skin and baggy black trousers and corduroy jackets the colour of mud clutched the bar in the last stages of alcohol addiction. Wallowing in remorse.

Birdie had no patience with them. No tolerance for drunken bowsies. Red noses and white marble domes with thin lines of greasy hair combed with sad attention in the men’s toilets. Sacred Heart of Jesus, what are you bringing her in here for? But it wasn’t Gussie. It was Louise who knew the pub.

– Arah for godsake, Birdie, will ye quit yer ould talking there and have yerself an ould glasseen of a drink –

Then he started bringing her home, and Birdie pulled out all the stops. She spent hours in the kitchen cooking things for them. All classes of sauces to sweeten the Galway girl.

Gussie singing in the bathroom and flossing his teeth on a Saturday morning. They were going to visit the Vet in the hospital. And then Louise and Gussie would go shopping for the day. The pair of them. Like lovers. Shopping in Galway. It was hard to believe.

– Yerrah not at all, girleen, sure it’s not hard to believe at all at all. –

Who said that? Birdie sits up in the bed. Cocks her head. Am I awake or dreaming?

– You’re wide awake, girleen, – says Louise.

Birdie opens her eyes. Behold Louise. There she is at the foot of the bed. Oh Christ I hope I’m dreaming, because Louise is at the foot of the bed.

– Yerrah will you shtop yer complaining there girleen, sure I’m only come to lighten yer load and cheer you up. –

I’m dreaming, Birdie thinks.

– Yer not dreaming. How could you be dreaming and me here telling ye that yer wide awake? –

Birdie wants to get out of the bed; call someone on the phone. Get the police. How did you get in if I’m not dreaming?