Full House, Page 2

  ‘Whatever happens, Liam, we’re not going to get down. We’re not going to get into some black hole of depression over it. Do you hear me?’

  ‘I hear you, but you have your job, Dee …’ He looked beaten and sad.

  ‘But that’s all it is – a job. Yours is a career, a profession, a trade. Don’t give up on us now, Liam, I beg you. I love you so much, I couldn’t bear to see you all down.’

  ‘I love you too.’ He stroked her hand.

  ‘Well then, aren’t we luckier than a lot of people.’ She had convinced herself by this stage, and her energy was coming back. ‘Come on, Liam, let’s go downstairs now and tell the children about it all.’

  Dee got off the bed and looked at herself in the mirror. She ran a brush through her hair and put on a little lipstick. ‘Here, smarten yourself up a bit, Liam. Don’t let them see you defeated.’

  ‘I am defeated, Dee.’

  ‘Only if you let yourself be,’ she said.

  ‘Do you think we should leave telling them tonight? Maybe I’ll get something else. No point in worrying them and upsetting them,’ Liam said.

  ‘We’re a family – they must know. They are going to help us get through this.’

  ‘But gradually, not in one big announcement. You know, I don’t want to go down and say that I’ve lost my job, show them I can’t keep a roof over their heads. I don’t want to say it yet, Dee, not until we’ve looked at everything. Why involve them at this stage?’

  ‘We can’t protect them from this, Liam, it’s too big. It’s going to affect all of us. And they are all grown-ups now, they’re in their twenties. They’re not babies and we can’t treat them like infants. They can all contribute to the running of the house. We’re not driving them away, after all. Although if they did move out, we could maybe rent out their rooms … You and I had our own homes at their age …’

  They went downstairs.

  Nobody looked up.

  Rosie still scanned her face in the mirror, Anthony smiled to himself as he sought and found further musical excitement on his iPod. Helen still worked on her plans for the school trip. She had almost assembled now the sheet of paper that she would show to the school principal as her final plan.

  Nobody had opened the bag of shopping that Dee had bought so carefully in the supermarket, hunting down bargains all over the store. The bag stood where it had been left, leaning against the table. The question of supper had not been considered by anyone, any more than the matter of clearing up after lunch. The bundle of clean, dry clothes stood by the washing machine as it had done at four this morning.

  Dee felt a huge tiredness across her shoulders, the kind of tiredness that might never go away. How had it got to this? Was she responsible for their selfishness? Was it her fault they contributed nothing at all to the running of the house? Was it Liam’s fault?

  ‘Here we all are,’ Liam said to his three grown-up children. ‘A full house, that’s what I like to see …’

  Anthony raised his eyes from the tiny screen he was watching. ‘Great!’ he said enthusiastically and went straight back to the screen.

  Rosie put on more lip salve and made further faces at her own reflection.

  Only Helen showed any interest. She looked at the faces of her parents, from one to the other and back.

  ‘There’s nothing wrong is there, Mam? Dad?’

  ‘Well, nothing we can’t work out together,’ Liam said.

  ‘Bad times for all of us. Your dad and I were just talking about it. Mash Macken’s business has gone under. We thought he was safe but it turns out none of our jobs are safe.’

  ‘Oh, isn’t that terrible!’ Helen said.

  ‘What’s terrible?’ Rosie asked.

  Dee said nothing.

  ‘Dad and Mam were saying that things are bad for Mash Macken, no jobs are safe,’ Helen explained.

  ‘Tell me about it, there’s no work out there,’ Anthony agreed.

  ‘But it may not be as bad as it looks,’ Liam said soothingly.

  ‘Or of course it could be even worse than it looks.’ Dee was clipped.

  ‘Why, Mam? Why do you always see the bad side of things?’ Rosie had a particular sort of whine that must have contributed greatly to the serious marital difficulties that she and Ronan were going through.

  Something had got through to Anthony. He had not put his earphones on again, and was looking from one face to another to catch up.

  ‘Will we have enough money?’ he asked simply.

  Dee looked at him in wonder. He had always been an easy child to rear, dreamy, in a world of his own. He was always willing to help, if reminded half a dozen times. He always hoped that there would soon be recognition of his musical talents, and fame and world success would follow. Then he could have a big comfortable house for his parents, a home by the sea. But he still looked at his father’s impending unemployment from his own point of view.

  ‘Would we have enough money?’ was all he wanted to know. Nothing about how he could go out and earn some money – nothing from any one of the three of them about that.

  ‘Did he pay your stamps, Da?’ Rosie enquired.

  ‘Yes, he did, and if—’

  ‘Ah well, you’ll be fine then.’ For Rosie it was a problem solved.

  ‘You get an income and no need to go out to work? Won’t that be great altogether, Da? I’d love that on a Monday morning,’ Helen said.

  Dee looked at her. At least she was the only one of them who did have a proper job. But she had never contributed a cent to the house where she lived. The thought had never crossed her mind. When Dee had mentioned it to Liam, he had always said, nonsense, it was her home.

  But Dee felt she must explain unemployment benefit more fully.

  ‘Your father paid in to his stamps, just like Mash Macken did. So he’ll get around half his week’s wages, his entitlement, do you understand? He is entitled to that money.’

  ‘Keep your shirt on, Mam,’ Rosie said.

  ‘There’s no problem then.’ Anthony loved things to be sorted.

  ‘Don’t always be bringing Dad down,’ Helen pleaded.

  Dee snapped. ‘You are three great selfish lumps! Look at yourselves, just sitting there, letting me wait on you hand and foot. It’s time you lot woke up – there are going to be some changes around here. Yes, I thought that might shock you. But if you’re going to carry on living here – if you’re going to keep on living here – you’re going to have to contribute to the household just as much as you would if you were living anywhere else.’

  The uproar was instant. Rosie and Helen immediately started protesting at the tops of their voices – imagine Mam’s bad timing, trying to break up the family at this stage. When Dad had got bad news about being laid off! Had she no understanding at all? Anthony simply stared at her in shock. Liam immediately tried to pat everyone down.

  ‘Nonsense, Dee, of course they live here. This is their home and they’re as welcome as the flowers in May and always will be. Of course they’ll all help out. You’re just tired. Now, come on everyone, give your mother a hand. You clear the table and I’ll unpack the shopping. Isn’t that right, Dee? You’ve had a bit of a shock, we all have. That’s all it is – we’ll get through this, we’ll all pull together.’

  ‘No, Liam, no, it’s not good enough. We’ll manage fine but only if we make some changes …’ She tried to speak in a clear and reasonable tone. ‘I’m not trying to throw you out, of course I’m not. But I’m going to have to try to get a bit more work to tide us over while Dad looks for another job. We need you three to contribute to the household budget as well. You need to think about how you can do that.

  ‘You can start by feeding yourselves. Don’t count on me to put meals on the table for you. If I’m working even more hours, I can’t be cooking for you as well. And you’ll have to look after your own washing and ironing – you all know how the washing machine works. Anthony, it’s time you looked for a job yourself. Rosie, Helen, you need to thin
k about how much you can afford to pay for your room …’

  Then all the shock, all the shouting began again. Rosie had sunk all her money into the house she no longer shared with Ronan. Helen had poured everything into the school trip she was organising. Anthony pointed out that the job market was every bit as bad for his generation as for Dad’s. They resented Dee, it was clear, they said she wasn’t being supportive, they turned to Liam. And Liam, once again, tried to soothe everything down.

  Dee sighed. They lived rent-free in this house and ate the food she put in front of them and let her iron their clothes. How could she make them see how unfair it was?

  As the noise subsided, Dee picked up the bag of shopping. Mechanically she unpacked all the contents, stacking the yoghurts in the fridge, moving the half-carton of low-fat spread to the front and putting the newer ones behind.

  Milk. Someone had always finished the milk or left the carton out so that it went sour.

  Dee had bought the smaller and more expensive cartons. It was better value to buy the big two-litre cartons but not if they were going to waste it …

  Dee was so familiar with this routine that it only took a few minutes. She left the lamb on a wooden board at the kitchen sink. Chop, chop, she soon had the big saucepan full of meat and vegetables. Then she added a stock cube and some water, and soon it was bubbling away. Food for five adult people. Shopped for by Dee, unpacked by Dee, paid for with the money Dee earned cleaning office buildings, and later to be served by Dee.

  She moved seamlessly to the ironing with a handful of those wire hangers you get at the cleaners. First she did Liam’s shirts. Four of them. She was particularly careful about the collars. Then she folded the girls’ blouses, dresses and underwear neatly and put them all clean but un-ironed into one laundry basket, and all Anthony’s things into another. It was a small thing, and it would be followed by a series of other small things. But it would work.

  She frowned. There were going to be changes, whether they liked it or not. She would have to make her own plans.

  Rosie had gone back to catch the late afternoon and early evening crowds in the shopping mall and direct them towards a complimentary make-up and hopefully to buy a lot of cosmetics. Anthony was still absorbed by his machine, Helen in her pile of pictures and timetables. Liam was reading the Situations Vacant column in the evening paper.

  None of them had any idea how much things were going to change.

  Chapter Three

  Very early next morning Josie wondered whether to mention the subject of Liam. She decided she would wait and judge the mood.

  Dee seemed thoughtful as they drove through the sleeping city.

  ‘Everything all right at home?’ Josie asked gently.

  ‘Grand, and yourself?’

  ‘Oh, Harry had a gig cancelled. He was very annoyed, and took to real rot-gut wine to get himself over it.’

  ‘Liam got his cards too,’ Dee said quietly.

  ‘He what? His job’s gone?’ Josie knew already – because Harry had talked to Liam. What she didn’t know was how Dee remained so calm.

  ‘Yes, it’s going to mean a big change for all of us,’ Dee said carefully.

  Josie couldn’t understand Dee’s reaction at all. ‘You’re taking it very well, I’ll say that much for you,’ she said in the end.

  ‘What other way is there to take it? And talking about taking things, could you and Harry use some breakfast cereal, and some eggs and maybe a couple of packs of biscuits?’

  ‘The ones you bought yesterday at the supermarket?’ This was getting odder by the moment, thought Josie.

  ‘Yes indeed,’ Dee said.

  ‘Where are they?’ Josie asked.

  ‘In that green bag in the back of the van. Oh, and there’s a nice iced cherry log in there too.’

  ‘Dee, why are you doing this?’

  ‘Well, I’m not going to sell them to you, am I? I’m giving them to you.’

  ‘You paid the money you earned cleaning floors for that food and now you’re giving it away?’

  ‘It’s not needed any more,’ Dee said simply.

  ‘But Dee, don’t you need it more than ever now? Please be reasonable.’

  ‘I’m being very reasonable, believe me. And, Josie, either take the food – or don’t take it – but can we not talk about it again today?’

  Dee settled back in her seat and Josie drove on in a very rare and unusual silence until they got to work.

  Dee’s strange mood continued all day. It was as if she had been given her happy pills. Nothing annoyed her, not the messy Sonia who had left some table napkins smeared with lipstick and food, with a note saying, Darlings, the laundry won’t do these, can you work some stain magic on them? Please …

  She didn’t get annoyed by the thoughtless young men in their new shining offices who had flung paper cups that still contained coffee into waste-paper baskets so that they created a mush and a mess. Dee was almost serene.

  Josie couldn’t understand it at all. When the day finally ended for them, Josie said that she was just dying for that sandwich. She had been thinking about it for the last two hours. Maybe a tuna melt? Or a chilli chicken wrap?

  But no. Dee-of-the-surprises had yet one more. She wasn’t going to join Josie for a sandwich: she was going to go straight home. No, thank you, she didn’t want a lift. She would take a bus part of the way and walk the rest.

  ‘Did I do something to annoy you?’ Josie asked, because she was totally confused.

  ‘Aw, Josie, will you stop it, of course you didn’t.’

  ‘But Dee, we always have a bit of lunch …’

  ‘You sound seven years of age, Jo!’ Dee laughed at her and gave her a hug. ‘Why don’t you go home yourself – and don’t forget what I left you in the green bag in the back of the van.’

  ‘There’s no sweet chilli chicken in it, is there?’ Josie wanted to know.

  ‘See you tomorrow.’

  Dee swung off towards the bus stop leaving Josie not knowing what to do next. She had been planning that sandwich and a big frothy coffee for half the morning, but now she wondered would it be more sensible to go straight home with Dee’s green bag? But Dee had been so odd today there could be anything in that bag …

  Anthony was sitting at the table at home in number sixteen.

  ‘How are you, Ma?’ He greeted her with a big grin. He had such an eager smile. She forced herself not to ask him if he had eaten any lunch.

  ‘All well with you, Anthony?’

  ‘Fine, Ma. What are you making?’

  She knew what he meant – he wanted to know what was for supper – but she pretended not to.

  Instead she said, ‘What am I making? Let me see. Let’s say eight hours a day, five days a week on the minimum wage, what does that come to? You do the sums.’

  He looked up at her, startled. ‘I wasn’t trying to pry, Ma, honestly … I didn’t mean that, I only meant what’s for …’ His voice trailed away.

  ‘No, that’s fine, love. I thought you were worried, like we all are, about Dad losing his job and whether we would manage. I was wondering whether you’d had any luck yet trying to get a job, or a girlfriend who might interest you more than your music. I was thinking that most men your age go out and work for a living and leave the nest. Instead of expecting their mums and dads to provide everything for them all of the time …’

  ‘But it’s all right, isn’t it? Dad will get a proper amount every week, won’t he? I mean, he said it wasn’t anything to worry about,’ Anthony replied, bewildered.

  ‘Is that what Dad said?’ Dee sounded surprised. ‘That’s not what I heard. I heard him say we all had to pull together and I’m just asking how you plan to help out. Right, so now, what are your plans for the evening?’

  ‘Plans?’

  ‘Yes, I was wondering what you were going to do?’ Dee said.

  ‘Well, nothing in particular, just … just the usual, Ma.’

  ‘Right, love, and where will y
ou do this usual?’

  ‘Well, here. I mean, here at the table, isn’t that all right?’

  ‘Not tonight, love. Your dad and I need the table to work out some figures. We need some space to spread things out.’

  ‘But you have a table in your bedroom.’

  ‘No, that’s a little fancy table for ornaments and hairbrushes,’ Dee explained patiently.

  ‘You don’t have any of those on it, Ma.’

  ‘No, but I might some day! Anyway about tonight? You can work in your own room, can’t you?’

  ‘It’s a bit small and cramped, Ma.’

  ‘I know, Anthony, I know. Small and cramped. This is what happens,’ Dee said. She sounded sympathetic.

  Anthony felt that all this was somehow unfamiliar. ‘Yes, well, I suppose it is. What time’s supper?’ he asked.

  ‘Supper?’ Dee looked surprised that he had asked.

  ‘Like, what time are we eating?’ Anthony explained.

  ‘Oh, whenever you like, of course. Your dad and I will be having a lamb chop around six-thirty before we get on with our paperwork.’

  ‘Lamb chops, that will be grand.’ Anthony’s face lit up.

  This was harder than Dee believed possible. It had to be Anthony, of course, the gentlest of them. Maybe Liam’s way was right. After all, it was their home, and Anthony had a right to expect his supper. But no, she couldn’t break her resolution now.

  ‘Oh, I was only making supper for your dad and myself. I was thinking that, after our little talk, the rest of you would have your own plans.’ She tried to look bright and pleasant about it all.

  ‘So there’s no supper, is that it?’ he said glumly.

  ‘Nonsense, love, aren’t the chip shops full of food – or a Chinese takeaway, maybe?’

  ‘Or we might make something here?’ Anthony wanted to keep some hold on normality.

  ‘Well, sure, but don’t take those two rashers and the eggs, they’re for your father’s breakfast, and you’ll make sure not to use up all the milk …’

  ‘No, Mam.’

  ‘Right, I’m off upstairs to have a bit of a rest. I’ll see you later on.’