‘Mr Brian Crowley, the head of the board of governors, expressed his opinion as to the decision made by principal Tabitha Thomas…’
There was footage of Brian walking along the street. ‘I don’t have a comment to make except to say how disappointed I am and that this is the wrong direction for the school.’
‘There have,’ continued BarryWhelan, ‘been allegations as to impropriety regarding the behaviour of a member of the board of governors, a Mr Brian Crowley, which the Gardaí say they are taking very seriously and anyone else connected to the school are not related to these allegations. A statement from the Dun Laoghaire Gardaí Station say that they are gathering information and will report back as soon as possible.’ There wereshots of the Copse. ‘Ms Thomas has promised that the plot of land will be turned into a Peace Garden, a place for children, and, she says, teachers and parents, to find peace and quiet.’
And then there was me again speaking to Barry. I couldn’t for the life of me remember saying any of it. ‘We are all under tremendous pressure,’ I said, slightly breathlessly, my eyes wild, ‘and we need to giveourselves the space to reflect. Time out, if you will.’ Rosie squeezed my hand. ‘Our children,’ I went on, ‘know that they have not only the academic support and good teaching in our school but also the emotional support. We are a school which is not just chasing good exam results but happy and contented children. Mental health, happiness, pleasure and joy and the simple things in life have alwaysbeen a part of our ethos, but today I am saying that it is the core of who we are as a school. I say to all our parents, that they are welcome to use the Peace Garden whenever they wish. They are part of our community too.’
‘As to the domestic drama, all seemed to be resolved…’ said Barry, cueing a shot of my mother and me hugging.
‘I can’t remember hugging her,’ I said to Rosie. ‘We don’t hug.We’re not huggers.’
‘Well, apparently you are. The camera doesn’t lie.’
I tried to think. Nellie and I had definitely hugged, and Arthur had gone in for one. Robbo had practically squeezed my insides out, the opposite to Leaf’s limpid but well-meaning hug.
It was coming back to me now. ‘Come here.’ Nora was standing there. ‘Just come over here.’
And we hugged, tears in my eyes, tears in hereyes – the woman who never cried. A swirling dream, the noise of the children cheering.
‘You did it,’ said Nora. ‘I knew you would. That’s my girl.’
‘It still would have been far easier if you hadn’t been protesting, wouldn’t it?’
‘Yes,’ she said, ‘but it wouldn’t have been half as much fun.’
‘I thought I was doing the right thing,’ I said. ‘I really did. I thought I was being the best teacherI could be, giving the children something we all thought they needed.’
‘Fresh air and exercise. The best medicine there is,’ she said, smiling, delighted with another triumphant protest. ‘We’ve all discussed the summer, helping get the Copse ready. Robbo’s even cancelling going to some music festival so he can help out. We’ll have it bramble-free in no time.’
‘Thanks Mum.’
‘Now, one thing Ineed to say. Rosie is a credit to you. You’re a natural mother. I wish I was more like you.’
‘Really?’ This was my mother. Being nice to me. Tears prickled in my eyes.
‘And another thing…’ she said.
‘Please stop. I’m more comfortable when you are being rude and dismissive.’
‘It’s just that… Rosaleen would have been so proud of you. And you’re just like her, you know that. You remind me ofher every day. And you know that cutting, the one you took from Rosaleen’s cherry tree. Well, once it grows a bit, it’s going to be planted in the Peace Garden. What do you think about that?’
‘That’s a perfect idea.’
On television, we were back to the studio now and Clodagh was smiling. ‘What a great story,’ she said. ‘Good things do happen to the best people.’ And she winked.
‘Did she justwink?’ said Rosie.
‘I think so…’
‘And now,’ said Clodagh, on screen, ‘with the weather is the ever-lovely Bridget O’Flaherty…’
And there was Bridget, looking sexier than ever. Her dress was leather – or pleather, it was hard to tell under the studio lights – with a zip that went all the way from top to bottom.
‘Clodagh… thank you…’ She smiled at the camera. ‘But I’m not going to do the weatherright now. You all know what it has been like where you are. Let’s just say that it will be more of the same tomorrow. But what I do want to do is pay tribute to Clodagh Cassidy who has been presenting this very news bulletin for the last ten years. And, guess what folks, today is her last day…’
The camera panned to Clodagh who was holding her earpiece with one hand, as though someone was shoutinginto it, and also trying to remember she was on camera and that it was a good idea to smile. So she did.
‘And I’ll be taking over from Clodagh. From Monday, I’ll be your new news reader and I’m going to make sure that all of you get your fix of the headlines and that we have a bit of fun too. Life isn’t all doom and gloom, is it?’ She smiled broadly at the camera, giving it a cheeky wink. ‘Seeyou all here at six o’clock on Monday.’
