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‘I never would – you know that.’ With Moira, Nola knew that anything she would ever say would only be for her own good. There were noI told you so’shere. Not like with her sisters. Moira was as devastated as her mother might have been for the way everything had come crashing in on her over the last few years.
‘Well, I have it on very good authority that they’re looking for someone to help out in the school, just a couple of times a week with their drama class. Their last teacher let them down without a lot of notice and ran off to Italy, if you can imagine. Apparently, she met some fella on the interweb thingy and that was that, packed up her bags and did a moonlight flit before anyone had a chance to talk some sense into her.’ She shook her head. ‘I’m not sure what it would entail, but it would be work and you’d get paid and it might be a lot better than hanging about in that big house thinking of all this…’
‘Maybe,’ Nola said dubiously. ‘But I’m not a drama teacher; I’ve never even gone to college.’ She sighed. If anything, she couldn’t wait to get out of school when she was a kid. The last thing she’d have signed up for was the idea of actually spending the rest of her days working in one. Now, somehow, sitting here with Moira, the idea of teaching kids what she loved actually seemed like a nice way to earn a living. It was better than waitressing and certainly better than spending her time with nothing to do but mope around the house with Georgie and Iris. She’d get paid too, which was something she definitely couldn’t turn her nose up at what with the inheritance being by no means certain at this point.
‘Haven’t you done more acting lessons than anyone else for miles around?’
‘I have.’ Nola had spent a small fortune on acting classes over the years.
‘And that’s what they want. You’ve even been on the telly, for heaven’s sake. That’s more than the last one ever had. The Easter pageant will be coming up and then the musical and they’re always looking for people to cover once the flu season arrives.’
‘It does sound pretty ideal.’ Nola smiled in spite of herself.
‘What have you got to lose, eh?’ Moira squeezed her hand again. ‘All you have to do is put together a little CV for yourself and drop it into the school – I’m sure they’ll be snapping your hand off to get you in there as fast as they can before school starts back.’
‘I don’t know about that, Moira. They’ll probably have loads of people applying and—’
‘Well, I do, so promise me you’ll get down there and start talking them into it.’
‘You’re impossible – you know that.’ Nola laughed, but she had already decided, she was going to give it her very best shot.
‘You’ll thank me yet,’ Moira said, then put her finger to her lips when she heard the back door open and the unmistakable sound of someone coming in and shuffling out of wellingtons and a coat. ‘Are you back for dinner today, then?’ Moira called out as the door opened wide. Aiden Barry stood there, windblown and looking surprised to see Nola ensconced at his mother’s kitchen table. He brought with him a blast of cold from outside, as if he’d stood on the ocean’s edge for half the day before arriving. ‘You remember Nola, don’t you, Aiden?’ his mother asked, smiling fondly at her only son.
‘I do,’ he said, hardly looking at her once he’d actually come into the kitchen. ‘And you’re lucky she’s here at all, if she keeps walking on country roads without so much as a passing regard for tractor drivers going about their business.’
‘I hardly think that you have any reason to be complaining,’ Nola said, her colour rising. ‘After all, you weren’t the one almost killed on the side of the road.’
‘What’s all this?’ Moira asked, but she was smiling, as if she knew something more than either of them.
‘Anyway, Mum, I just came back to drop this in. I met the postman on the way. It’s only bills and circulars, but I thought I’d save him the journey.’ He eyed Nola as he said this, as if he deeply regretted his generosity now that it meant he’d been forced into further contact with her.
‘Ah, you’re very considerate,’ Moira said, looking at him fondly. ‘Isn’t he very thoughtful, Nola?’ She looked across at Nola, who would have liked to say she thought he was indeed a lot of things, but considerate wouldn’t be top of her list anytime soon.
Nola could have sat in that kitchen all afternoon, if it wasn’t for the arrival of Aiden. She hoped he’d leave quickly but when his mother insisted he have something to eat before going back to work, Nola knew it was time to get moving. Anyway, suddenly she felt invigorated – she was eager to get her application in to the school before that job was snapped up by someone else.
The old convent school she remembered hating for most of her teenage years had long since been turned into a community building as a brand-new, state-of-the-art school had been built on a green-field site at the furthest end of the village. It was all natural light, neutral colours and muted sounds. The yard was laid out for basketball, netball, tennis – games that Nola never had much interest in when she was a kid, but she could see now that maybe, if they’d had facilities like this, she might have felt differently. Today, everything had a bright, optimistic feel to it.
The principal – Gary Cotter, a rotund man in his late forties – seemed nice enough. She couldn’t help but think when she spoke to him that in a few years he’d make a great Santa Claus.
‘A celebrity!’ he cried, shaking her hand vigorously.
She gave an embarrassed smile and said, ‘Hardly.’ But, she supposed, perhaps she was by Ballycove’s standards. ‘I certainly have enough experience in front of a camera, though, and I’d love to put on something really special with the kids this year.’ And as she said it, she remembered how much any chance at getting up on a stage had meant to her when she was young, and found that she meant it.
‘Yes, it’s a pretty special role. You get to work with kids and really see what a difference you’re making. You will have the chance to build them up, shape them and have a hand in the adults they’ll become.’
‘I know. I lived for drama class.’ She smiled, remembering how much she’d looked forward to that one class a week. ‘It helped me to fit in when I didn’t feel I could fit in anywhere else.’
When she walked down the driveway, there was an undeniable spring in her step and for the first time since she arrived in Ballycove, she noticed the birds singing and the sun shining. Gary had said he’d be in touch later in the week, and for once, she was fairly certain it would be good news.
It was by no means what she’d have imagined herself doing at this point in her life. Still, it was a job and to her own surprise, she found herself feeling excited at the prospect. Maybe there was a little sense of having achieved something, too – it was in the direction of that long-held dream and that was more than she could say for too many years in London. It was funny, but even just knowing that she’d gone in there and asked for it, somehow taken her destiny into her own hands, buoyed her up no end. She had a feeling that for the rest of the evening, even Iris and Georgie wouldn’t be able to get on her nerves.
*
The call came the following morning.
‘Thanks so much, Mr Cotter. Oh, right, yes, of course.’ Nola was flapping her hands. She’d turned down the radio and shushed Iris just as she’d been offering her a refill on her morning cup of tea. ‘Gary.’ She smiled. ‘I’m so thrilled. Thank you, I’ll see you later today, then…’
‘What’s that all about?’ Georgie looked up from reading the morning paper on her phone.
