‘Yes, Sister Kennedy,’ we all said.
Brian promised us all he would do his best, for the good of the school, for the good of our children. He would do it for Ireland, for our proud benighted nation. He would do it for love. By the timehe finished, Sister Kennedy, Noleen and Brendan were moist around the eyes, swept up by his words. Mary rolled her eyes at me.
‘Protocol states that any proposals regarding anything that would affect the school must first be approved by the board,’ I said, ‘but that the current principal of the school has the final say. So, Brian, it’s an interesting proposal but the ultimate blessing must comefrom me.’
‘Indeed it does,’ said Sister Kennedy. ‘But God moves in mysterious ways. I find that when one asks Him for guidance He bestows wisdom on those who must make the decision.’
‘Mostmysteriously,’ said Brian, nodding with the humility and wisdom of a living saint. ‘I ask God for His guidance when I am makingallmy decisions. And He never fails to show me the way. Just this morning, Iwas ordering a breakfast roll in the Spar, two rashers, and two sausages, my usual. I asked God, if that was the right choice. And He answered me. Today, He guided me to ask for black pudding as well. And I must say, it was a revelation.’ He winked at me.
Noleen smiled slightly uncertainly. Brendan looked utterly confused. Only Sister Kennedy smiled. ‘That’s exactly right, Brian,’ she said. ‘Godis everywhere, even at the hot food counter of Spar.’
*
Mary Hooley, my school secretary, was a beacon of good-sense and intelligence. And although I sensed that she wasn’t sure about Brian’s Great Idea, I was determined that I could talk her round. After all, it would mean a break from raffles and bring and buys andbric a bracstalls. Our great economic leap forward.
‘Morning, Mary!’ I said.‘How are we doing? Are we millionaires yet?’
Mary was counting the takings from the sponsored readathon from the previous week. ‘Morning, Tabitha,’ she said, eyes on the change. ‘We’re up on last year. So that’s good news.’
‘Have we broken the €100 yet?’
‘Not yet, but look there’s another ice cream tub of coppers to go.’ She gave it a good shake, the sound of no more than a fiver’s worth ofcoins.
‘We’ll get there, Mary,’ I said. ‘One day we’ll have enough to fix the roof, resurface the playground and invest in some technology. If we… if we give Brian’s idea a go.’
‘Hmmm.’ Mary was the cousin of Lucy, Michael’s political perk. Ireland being a small place where everyone is separated by a mere three or four degrees.
‘I’m starting the think that this could be the best thing for theschool, Mary,’ I said. ‘People are selling bits of land all over the place; for house building in gardens or development in other ways. We would just make sure it was unobtrusive… anyway,’ I went on, talking despite her obvious lack of enthusiasm for the proposal. ‘I’ve had another phone call from Brian Crowley. He’s found someone who’ll give us the money for the Copse.’
‘Has he now?’ Mary’seyebrows were raised to her hairline. ‘Dress a goat in silk and he’s still a goat.’
‘What?’ I laughed.
‘Well,’ she said. ‘It’s just that he is very fond of his own voice and he’s all cufflinks and a hard handshake. And he takes up a lot of space. More than he needs. He really likes to spread out.’
I laughed again. ‘But that doesn’t mean it’s not a good plan.’
She nodded. ‘It’s the man-spreadingand the arm waving. I like people who take up the right amount of the world. Not more than their fair share. And he speaks far louder than he needs to, like what he is saying is so important that it needs to be said at a higher volume.’
‘Tedious,’ I agreed. Living with Michael, I had a thicker skin when it came to the overly-confident male. And anyway, I was blinded by the money and all we couldachieve. And not for the first time did I banish thoughts of my socialist mother from my mind. Sometimes we all had to welcome our inner capitalist. For the greater good, I kept repeating. For the greater good.
‘My mother,’ said Mary, ‘always said don’t trust men who fancy themselves more than you.’
‘Good advice. I’ll remember it.’
‘Or women, in my case,’ she smiled. ‘But I know what she wastrying to say.’
‘Just think of the money. New chairs for the Sixth class girls, instead of the rickety ones they have. A new surface for the playground, books for the library, whiteboards for every classroom, fix the front gate...’ What else? ‘And a disco for the kids. We haven’t had an end-of-year party for them in five years… that would be nice… And… well, there’s just so much we could do.’
‘If you think it’s a good idea, Tabitha. But I don’t mind all the sponsoring, the cake sales…’
‘But there’s only so many cake sales we can hold. At this rate, we’re going to turn the entire population of Dalkey diabetic.’
She shrugged and went back to her counting.
‘Tea?’ I said.
‘Oh yes, please, Tabitha,’ she said. ‘If only to soak up the biscuits I’ve brought in.’
