The Rose Garden Read online

  They had put their own three-bedroomed house in Dublin on the market, and to their relief had actually managed to sell it, finally able to clear their outstanding mortgage and pay off everything they owed. There had been no money left over – not even a euro – but it was a huge weight off their shoulders.

  Saying goodbye to their neighbours in Firhouse had been hard. Also, their two boys had kicked up a huge fuss about leaving their school and their friends and moving to the middle of the country to live with their granny. But in time Conor and Aidan had both settled really well into the local village school and made new friends. Now they both played Gaelic football and were obsessed with their local team and the big gang of kids that they hung around with.

  Paul, who had grown up in Kilfinn, was happy to come back to his home village and to have time with his mother in the last year and a half of her life. Gina had been the one who found the move away from Dublin, the city she loved, very difficult. However, as Sheila got weaker and frailer, unable to climb the stairs or even dress herself, Gina was there to help her, relieved that Sheila had enjoyed her final days surrounded by her family.

  Last year, when Sheila’s will was read and Paul’s two brothers discovered that she had left him the family home on the outskirts of the village, there had been massive upset and a family row. Fortunately, eventually Jack and Leo had grudgingly accepted Sheila’s wishes, conceding that over the years they had both visited Sheila only sporadically, as one brother lived in Manchester and the other in Dundalk, whereas Paul and Gina had always visited and taken care of her when she needed them.

  Gina would be eternally grateful to her mother-in-law for her generosity and for ensuring that, no matter what happened, they need never again worry about having a roof over their heads.

  She smiled when Johnny Lynch came into the café, dripping with rain, hung up his navy waterproof jacket and made a beeline for his favourite table in the corner. He’d retired about a year ago and came in almost every day for a pot of tea and a scone and to read the free newspaper that Norah provided for customers. Gina went over with the menu and the pretence that he might order something different.

  ‘’Tis an awful day,’ he murmured. ‘Sure what could be nicer than a pot of tea and a hot buttery scone?’

  ‘Perfect,’ Gina smiled and disappeared back to the counter to make the tea. Johnny would sit here for at least an hour, if not two, perusing the paper and talking to some of the customers he knew.

  The café was a place for some of the older locals and various groups to congregate during the day, Norah providing a service that nobody else did in the small village. But lately things had begun to change, since Mulligan’s pub at the end of the town had closed down. Larry Mulligan had decided to retire and had closed up the small traditional pub with its open hearth, Súgán chairs, stone floor and daily special of a traditional bowl of Mulligan’s Stew, to the consternation of many of the locals who had sat there day in, day out, nursing pints and enjoying a bit of male camaraderie.

  However, Johnny Armstrong and his wife, Bernadette, who ran the nearby Kilfinn Inn, had seized the opportunity to increase their business. They had always done teas and coffees and sandwiches and snacks, but now began to offer a simple pub lunch too. Norah, when she heard about it, had gone in next door to have lunch with her best friend to check out the competition.

  ‘I had a nice bit of beef, and Una went for the roast chicken – a bit dry by my mind, and the gravy was one of those instant ones you mix from a tin. We both had the pavlova for dessert. It was good enough but not a patch on our lunch special,’ Norah said firmly. ‘But imagine, the TV was on all the time and there was music blaring. We could hardly hear ourselves think, let alone talk! Why would people go there?’

  But people did go there, and Gina tried to persuade Norah to diversify from her traditional roast of the day, suggesting serving lasagnes, quiches, pasta bakes, chicken or seafood pies instead; but Norah didn’t take well to change and insisted Cassidy’s Café would continue the way it always had done from her mother and father’s time to her own.

  However, Gina persisted and did her best to broaden the menu once or twice a week at least, noticing that the day she served chicken and leek pie, with its crunchy cornflake topping, the place seemed busier than usual.

  As the rain eased up they got a bit busier. Maeve McCarty came in to talk to her.

  ‘Gina, I’m having a few girlfriends over for supper next week,’ she explained, ‘and I wanted to ask you if you could make me a large lasagne for Saturday night. Your lasagne is the best ever!’

  ‘Thanks for the compliment,’ laughed Gina, agreeing instantly and writing down the order.

  As the weather dried, the place seemed to fill up. Gina tried to make sure everyone managed to get a seat. The mid-morning coffees turned to lunches as a few members of the local bridge club took up the big table at the back after their bridge session in the parish hall and ordered a full lunch each.

  Norah was in and out, talking to everyone. Gina had soon realized after starting to work there that the café was more than just a business for Norah: it was her life. She might be in her seventies now and a bit slower than she used to be, but Norah had started working there when she was a young girl helping her parents. She lived above the café and her life revolved around it. Marriage might have passed her by, but Norah was so caught up with the lives of her customers and local goings-on that she was never lonely.

  Gina smiled as the Lennon sisters came in for lunch. They were sweethearts, both in their eighties, quite alike and living within a half-mile of each other. Rosemary, the elder, who had been a great friend of Sheila’s, beckoned to her.

  ‘Gina, dear, I’m having an awful problem with my kitchen tap – it’s leaking all the time. Do you think that nice husband of yours might be able to come over again and fix it for me?’

  ‘I’ll ask him to call over to you tomorrow,’ she promised.

  Another benefit to working in the café was that she often got to hear about someone thinking about a new kitchen or putting in wardrobes, or considering doing a small extension long before anyone else, and Paul could put in a quote for doing the work. Gradually he was gaining a reputation for good work at a reasonable rate and was getting busier.

  When Gina had first come to Kilfinn to live she had missed her family and friends back in Dublin so much. She’d been so homesick stuck in a village in the middle of nowhere that she didn’t know how she could bear it. But now, with working in the café she felt so much a part of the community, a part of the village, that she didn’t ever give moving back to Dublin a thought. She loved this place and harboured a secret dream to have a café like this or a little business of her own one day …

  ‘Gina!’ called Norah. ‘There’s a hot rhubarb tart and an apple tart to go out to the front of the shop. And you’ll whip up some more cream to go with them, please!’

  ‘Of course,’ she smiled.

  The sun was now streaming in the window and she watched as another couple came in searching for a table for two to have afternoon tea. The café might be small, but it was a little goldmine with its steady stream of customers all day.

  Chapter 13

  GINA HAD MADE A CREAMY FISH PIE FOR THE LUNCH MENU AND there was Norah’s boiled ham with parsley sauce too. A few of the younger teachers from the school had come for lunch to celebrate one of their birthdays and she made a mental note to bring a large cupcake to the table with a candle on it once she had cleared away their plates.

  Mary White, the public health nurse whose daughter Suzie was in class with Aidan, came in to have a bowl of soup with another nurse. Gina went over to take their order and have a chat.

  Checking the tables, she noticed that an elderly couple in the corner hadn’t got their mains yet and went into the kitchen to get them.

  ‘Norah, I need two more hams, please!’ she called, then suddenly realized that Norah was sitting on a chair trying to get her breath back, with a heavy oven t
ray lying on the ground.

  ‘Are you okay?’ Gina asked, concerned. Norah looked awful and when she tried to talk her speech seemed slurred.

  ‘I was lifting the tray out of the oven …’ she kept trying to say.

  ‘It’s all right, Norah,’ Gina reassured her, going to get her a glass of water and making her put her feet up. ‘Maybe we need to get a doctor?’

  ‘No … n-noo.’ Norah shook her head, but Gina realized that her face looked different, slightly lopsided.

  ‘I’ll be back in a minute,’ she said, running out to get Mary, who was still outside at a table. The nurse came in and quickly began to examine the older woman.

  ‘Norah, how are you feeling?’

  Norah’s speech was slow and definitely slurred.

  ‘Can you raise your arm for me?’ asked Mary calmly.

  The effort was too much and Gina could see the fear in Norah’s eyes.

  ‘Listen, Norah, I think you need to go to hospital. It might be a slight stroke and the sooner the doctors see you the better.’

  ‘Doctor JMMM,’ Norah tried to say.

  ‘I know you’d prefer Dr Jim, but today’s Wednesday and it’s his golf day,’ Mary reminded her. ‘There’ll be no one in the practice. Listen, I could phone an ambulance but it could take at least thirty minutes or more to get one from Kilkenny to here, so I’m going to bring you in my car. It’s faster.’

  Norah protested about leaving the café, but Gina and Mary got her to see sense.

  ‘The lunches are nearly over, Norah, and I’m well able to manage,’ Gina reassured her. ‘Honestly, the sooner you and Mary get on the road to the hospital the better.’

  ‘Do you think you can stand and walk?’ asked the nurse.

  ‘Yes,’ nodded Norah slowly.

  ‘Gina, can you ask one of the men outside to come and give us a hand? My car is literally parked outside the door on the main street and I’ll phone the hospital ahead so they’ll expect us.’

  Gina went out and saw that Brian Canning was sitting on his own reading the paper and finishing his lunch. He worked as a sales rep, and when she explained the situation he was delighted to help. Five minutes later, with Brian’s help, they had calmly and quietly got Norah out through the café and into the car.

  ‘You are going to be all right, Norah,’ Gina promised, sensing the older woman’s fear. ‘Don’t worry about the café – I’ll look after everything here. Everything will be fine, I promise.’

  After they had driven off, Gina knew that everyone was concerned about Norah. She made a big pot of coffee and one of tea and went around the café refilling cups and reassuring their customers that Norah was going to be okay and that in the café it was business as usual.

  Chapter 14

  GINA HAD PHONED THE HOSPITAL TO SEE HOW NORAH WAS DOING, and the next day after work went to visit her. She found Norah lying in a ward with five other patients. She was half asleep and the twist to her face on one side was quite noticeable. Mary had explained to her on the phone that Norah had been given immediate treatment for her stroke on arrival at the hospital’s emergency department.

  ‘It should help,’ Mary explained, ‘but the brain scans will show just how significant a stroke she’s had. However, one has to take her age into account.’

  Looking at Norah, who as she lay in the hospital bed suddenly seemed a frail, small woman with a shock of white hair, Gina pulled up a chair to sit down beside her. She had searched Norah’s address book and phoned her nephew, Martin, and her cousin, Sadie, who lived in Cork to tell them that Norah was in hospital. Poor Norah had hardly any family when it came down to it …

  ‘I got you some nightdresses and a dressing gown and some things for hospital,’ Gina said slowly as she bent down and put them neatly in the small locker beside her.

  Norah had lived in the rooms above the café for most of her life and Gina had rarely gone beyond the front door of the place, let alone searching the woman’s bedroom for things to take to her. Norah lived very simply and frugally, sleeping in an old double bed in one room with the other two smaller rooms used for all kinds of storage. There was a small galley kitchen and a neat sitting room with a gas fire and a TV. The room was also filled with cats – not real ones, but china ones, toy ones, a bronze statue and a few cat photos. Norah obviously collected them. Cats clearly meant a lot to her, so it was strange that she didn’t own one.

  When Norah was more awake, one of the nurses helped Gina to sit her up in the bed.

  ‘How are you?’ Gina asked.

  Norah spoke so slowly and with huge effort. She began to get agitated trying to ask about the café.

  ‘The café is fine,’ Gina said firmly. ‘Everything went well today. The weather was pretty bad, so it was just a few regulars. They were all asking for you and said to get well soon.’

  Norah nodded and her eyes welled with tears. Automatically, Gina reached for her hand.

  ‘Norah, you’re going to be fine,’ she comforted her. ‘You just have to take your time. Everything in work is okay, so please stop worrying. I did some new orders today – heaven knows I’ve watched you often enough to know what to do … So don’t worry.’

  Norah squeezed her hand.

  ‘I’ve phoned Martin and Sadie. They both said they’d come here as soon as they can. I think Sadie’s coming from Cork tomorrow.’

  Norah patted her hand.

  A nurse came over and it was clear that not only Norah’s speech but also her swallowing had been affected by the stroke, as she couldn’t even manage a simple sip of water and had some kind of thickened liquid to take.

  Gina made smalltalk about the customers and when Norah dozed off again she slipped away.

  ‘She’s really bad, Paul. The poor thing, you should see the state she’s in – she can hardly do anything,’ she confided as they sat having coffee in the bright cream-painted kitchen that Paul had fitted a few months ago. The boys were in the other room, homework done, playing FIFA.

  ‘Do you think that she’ll be in hospital for long?’ he asked, worried.

  ‘It’s hard to say. I don’t know if she will get better or not. Mary says strokes are one of those things where it is almost impossible to say, but from what I can see Norah’s has really affected her badly.’

  ‘Do you think she’ll have to retire or shut up shop?’

  ‘I’ve no idea, but it doesn’t look likely that she’ll be back at work any day soon, so I’ll just have to manage.’

  ‘No better woman,’ he laughed.

  ‘I know that I can manage the café, but it’s dealing with Norah’s suppliers, like the wholesalers and the butcher, that’s the problem. As you know, she always keeps herself to herself. I can use cash for payments, lodge money to her account. There is a bank lodgement book kept under the counter, but I don’t have any access to withdraw from Norah’s bank account. I have no idea about anything like that. I can probably get credit for a few weeks, but after that people will expect to be paid.’

  ‘I have no idea what you should do. Maybe one of her family will be able to help,’ he suggested.

  ‘She only has that nephew, Martin, and his wife Cliona, who she sees about three times a year. Remember they wanted her to go to them last Christmas and she wouldn’t go as she said they drive her mad with all their talk about their expensive holidays and restaurants they have tried? And her cousin Sadie is the same age as her and lost her husband a few years ago and can just about manage herself. I think that she has a daughter married and living in Kerry.’

  ‘So not much help there?’

  ‘I doubt it,’ she sighed. ‘But what happens if Norah doesn’t come back and the café closes down?’

  ‘Don’t think that!’

  ‘I’m being realistic, Paul. The woman is about seventy-five – she should have been retired years ago! What happens if she doesn’t come back to the café and it closes down? Where does that leave me?’

  ‘We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,�
� he said soothingly.

  Gina tried to control her anxiety. She and Paul were so different. He let things roll off him, not worry him, but she had shouldered a huge amount of the stress and burden over the years and knew that her income was very necessary for the family budget.

  That night as she lay in bed she thought about the café – but under her ownership, with not only a change to the menu but perhaps also a change in the décor. She didn’t mean to be disloyal to Norah, but she had to consider, if the opportunity were suddenly to come up to take over the café or rent the premises, should she do it?

  Chapter 15

  FOR THE FIRST FEW DAYS BUSINESS IN CASSIDY’S CAFÉ WAS QUIET. It was as if the people of Kilfinn and the locality, sensing Norah’s absence, were reluctant to come into the café, but when Gina assured them that Norah was hoping to be back in attendance once she was able, the customers returned. Gina substituted some dishes and, chalking up the new daily specials, was encouraged by the way the customers liked them. Twice a week she called after work to see Norah, who was still in the hospital, and to update her on how the business was going. She lodged the money she took in to Norah’s business account and brought along the business chequebook for Norah to sign cheques to three key suppliers, plus her own wages. She could see how much effort it took for Norah to manage even that and wondered how much longer this could all go on …

  Martin Cassidy had come into the café twice, looked all around him and gone upstairs. Gina couldn’t help herself, but she didn’t trust him to look after Norah’s interests. He’d asked to see the business accounts and she had refused, saying that only Norah could give permission for that. She could see him looking for them but she had the accounts ledger and lodgement book safely at home where she was trying to work out payments due. Sadie, Norah’s cousin, had also come into the café. A nervous woman, she had sat down to a lunch of shepherd’s pie over which she had fretted and worried about Norah.