‘From September, we are setting up the Feelings Club. Once a week, you can meet and you can talk about what is going on at home or at school orin your life generally. Anyone who wants to join the Feelings Club, let your teacher know. By the way, you can still join even if you are not ready or not able to speak. Just come along anyway. Okay?’ I peered around at them, their lovely innocent faces. ‘And I have another announcement. It’s about the Copse…’ There was silence in the hall, a collective intake of breath. My mind went back to thatday when I had made the children cry. I could see their little faces, wondering whether I was about to tell them that the bulldozers were arriving in the morning. The squirrels about to be squashed, the snails trod on, the birds homeless?
‘I would like to tell you all now,’ I announced, ‘that, it isnotgoing to be sold.’
There was a huge cheer. The children began hugging each other and dancingabout. And instead of dying down, the cheering went on and on. I looked around the room and all I could see were smiles.
‘Okay, okay…’ I tried for quiet. ‘Right, this is what is going to happen. It’s now going to be called the Peace Garden. And over the holidays the protestors and me - and anyone else who wants to volunteer - are going to clear it of the nettles and brambles. We are going tomake sure that any animals are not disturbed. We are going to put in benches and a picnic table. And it’s going to be a place of peace and tranquillity, where you can enjoy the wildlife, the view of the sea and take a moment to yourself. It’s going to be a place for quiet reflection, for everyone, you, the teachers, your parents, your brothers and sisters. It’s going to remain a very special place.How does that sound?’
There was more cheering and shouting. ‘Star of the Sea, Star of the Sea, Star of the Sea…’ someone began chanting. ‘Star of the Sea, Star of the Sea…’ And they all joined in.
‘Let’s go outside,’ I shouted, ‘and tell the Squirrel Savers they have won! We’ve all won!’
The whole school surged after me as we marched out of the hall, down the corridor, out the door and acrossthe playground. ‘Star of the Sea, Star of the Sea, Star of the Sea!’
Barry Whelan, the news reporter was outside, the camera on us as the river of a school poured out of the gates. I hadn’t thought he’d get down to us so quickly.
Barry thrust a microphone right underneath my chin.
‘The board of governors have come to a decision. The Copse will not be sold. I wanted our children to have accessto computers. As a school, we needed money to buy them and cake sales and raffles don’t bring in enough. Selling the land was what we believed would have been to the benefit of the children. However, I know now it isn’t.’ A song from my distant past swum into my consciousness and words babbled forth. ‘You see,’ I went on, ‘I believe that children are the future, we are going to teach them welland letthemlead the way! So, we will now not be selling the land. It is to be turned into a Peace Garden for the use of pupils, teachers and parents, anyone who wants to enjoy a moment of wildlife and tranquillity.’
The children began cheering again.Star of the Sea, Star of the Sea… And then the protestors who had been hugging each other, even Nellie had put down her crocheting to hug Robbo,they began with the chant as well. And then we all did.Star of the Sea! Star of the Sea!
*
Mary and I were tidying up the office, doing a last sort out before the long summer holidays. Huan was still in her Moses basket, fast asleep. Mary tucked the blanket around Huan, who still had the little Chinese jacket on, making sure she was warm and comfortable.
‘Tabitha, I am so sorry. My own fleshand blood. Lucy carrying on with Michael’ Mary reddened. ‘What can I say? I feel ashamed because she is my cousin. Carrying on like that. There are far more decent ways to behave. Her Mammy has refused to leave her bed since she heard the news. Lucy’s on her way up there today.’
‘I’ve been thinking, though, Mary. That even decent people actundecently sometimes. None of us are perfect. I’ve madea hash of things in my life. There are many things that if I could go back, I’d do them differently.’
‘You’re right,’ agreed Mary. ‘It’s a right of us all to behave like complete eejits at times. I told my own mother about Huan when I picked her up in Beijing.’
‘What did she say?’
‘Shocked would be an understatement,’ she admitted. ‘But even before we said goodbye, I could hear her coming roundto the idea. Who could resist a baby?’
‘Just think, Mary, if you hadn’t disobeyed your mother, you’d be in some convent somewhere. Can you imagine?’
‘And I wouldn’t have Huan. I wouldn’t have my…’ she tried out this new word on her lips. ‘I wouldn’t have mydaughter.’
‘They’re good things, daughters,’ I said. ‘Obviously, I’m biased.’ I smiled at her. ‘But they are pretty cool.’ I thought ofNora, Rosie and me and of Rosaleen and the four mighty Thomas women. Mothers and daughters, grandmother and granddaughter. Such wonderful things to have and to be.
*
That evening, Rosie and I sat down in the living room, mugs of tea in our hands, to watch Clodagh’s last ever news broadcast. You would never have thought it was her swansong. She calmly and smoothly ran through the news, the faceand voice of Ireland.
We were watching as Clodagh deftly fielded a debate between the owner of a huge chicken farm in Monaghan and a member of the union for farm workers, she then moved neatly into a report from America, looking at Irish emigres.
‘To the seaside village County Dublin of Dalkey, now,’ she said…
‘This is it! Oh God…’
Rosie grabbed my hand. ‘They surely won’t be mean like lasttime, will they…?’
‘The environmental protest at the Star of the Sea school came to a close today when the school principal announced that the plot of land at the centre of the protest would now not be sold. But there was an unusual domestic drama because the head teacher and one of the protestors are mother and daughter… Our reporter Barry Whelan went to see what was going on and if old hurtshad been healed…’
We watched as the sea of children filled the camera, all of them chanting. And there was me, in the front, looking slightly manic, it has to be said. My voice sounded shaky enough and I could barely remember saying any of what I said.?
I was surrounded by children the whole time, with their arms around my waist, my hands on their heads, all their faces smiling and happy. Theother teachers were in the tumble of humans, all of us one big wonderful community. I spotted little Donna, a junior infant, who has Down’s Syndrome, holding Red’s hand, the biggest grin on both of their faces. There was Mary with Huan in one arm and holding another child’s hand with her free arm. ‘Three cheers for Ms Thomas!’ Red shouted, and the children, buoyed up on natural excitement and enthusiasm– and the thought of the long school holidays – cheered.
