authorized to write a report on Eilis's general health, and a list of other things the Embassy would require, including a precise offer of work, work that Eilis was singularly qualified to do, a guarantee that she would be looked after financially on her arrival and a number of character references.
Father Flood wrote a formal letter sponsoring Eilis and guaranteeing to take care of her accommodation as well as her general and financial welfare, and on headed notepaper came a letter from Bartocci & Company, Fulton Street, Brooklyn, offering her a permanent position in their main store at the same address and mentioning her bookkeeping skills and general experience. It was signed Laura Fortini; the handwriting, Eilis noted, was clear and beautiful, and even the notepaper itself, its light blue colour, the embossed drawing of a large building over the letterhead, seemed heavier, more expensive, more promising than anything of its kind she had seen before.
It was agreed that her brothers in Birmingham would, between them, pay her passage to New York. Rose would give her money to live on until she was settled in her job. She told the news to a few friends, asking them not to tell anyone else, but Eilis knew that some of Rose's colleagues at work had heard the phone calls to Dublin; she was aware also that her mother would not be able to keep the news to herself. Thus she felt that she should go and tell Miss Kelly before she heard it from someone else. It was best, she thought, to go during the week, when things were not so busy.
She found Miss Kelly standing behind the counter. Mary was at the top of a ladder stacking packets of marrowfat peas on the higher shelves.
"Oh, you've come at the worst time now," Miss Kelly said. "Just when we thought we would have a bit of peace. Now don't disturb that Mary one whatever you do." She inclined her head in the direction of the ladder. "She'd fall as soon as she'd look at you."
"Well, I just came to say that I'll be going to America in about a month's time," Eilis said. "I'm going to work there and I wanted to give you plenty of notice."
Miss Kelly stood back from the counter. "Is that right?" she asked.
"But I'll be here on Sundays of course until I go."
"Is it a reference you're looking for?"
"No. Not at all. I just came to let you know."
"Well, that's lovely now. So we'll see you when you come home on holidays, if you'll still be talking to everyone."
"I'll be here on Sunday," Eilis said.
"Ah, no, we won't be needing you at all. If you're going, you're best to go."
"But I could come."
"No, you couldn't. There'd be too much talk about you and there'd be too much distraction and we're very busy on a Sunday, as you know, without that."
"I was hoping I could work until I left."
"Not here you can't. So be off with you now. We have plenty of work, more deliveries today and more stacking. And no time for talking."
"Well, thank you very much."
"And thank you too."
As Miss Kelly moved towards the store at the back of the shop, Eilis looked to see if Mary would turn so she could say goodbye to her. Since Mary did not, Eilis quietly left the shop and went home.
Miss Kelly was the only one who mentioned the possibility of her coming home on holidays. No one else mentioned it. Until now, Eilis had always presumed that she would live in the town all her life, as her mother had done, knowing everyone, having the same friends and neighbours, the same routines in the same streets. She had expected that she would find a job in the town, and then marry someone and give up the job and have children. Now, she felt that she was being singled out for something for which she was not in any way prepared, and this, despite the fear it carried with it, gave her a feeling, or more a set of feelings, she thought she might experience in the days before her wedding, days in which everyone looked at her in the rush of arrangements with light in their eyes, days in which she herself was fizzy with
Father Flood wrote a formal letter sponsoring Eilis and guaranteeing to take care of her accommodation as well as her general and financial welfare, and on headed notepaper came a letter from Bartocci & Company, Fulton Street, Brooklyn, offering her a permanent position in their main store at the same address and mentioning her bookkeeping skills and general experience. It was signed Laura Fortini; the handwriting, Eilis noted, was clear and beautiful, and even the notepaper itself, its light blue colour, the embossed drawing of a large building over the letterhead, seemed heavier, more expensive, more promising than anything of its kind she had seen before.
It was agreed that her brothers in Birmingham would, between them, pay her passage to New York. Rose would give her money to live on until she was settled in her job. She told the news to a few friends, asking them not to tell anyone else, but Eilis knew that some of Rose's colleagues at work had heard the phone calls to Dublin; she was aware also that her mother would not be able to keep the news to herself. Thus she felt that she should go and tell Miss Kelly before she heard it from someone else. It was best, she thought, to go during the week, when things were not so busy.
She found Miss Kelly standing behind the counter. Mary was at the top of a ladder stacking packets of marrowfat peas on the higher shelves.
"Oh, you've come at the worst time now," Miss Kelly said. "Just when we thought we would have a bit of peace. Now don't disturb that Mary one whatever you do." She inclined her head in the direction of the ladder. "She'd fall as soon as she'd look at you."
"Well, I just came to say that I'll be going to America in about a month's time," Eilis said. "I'm going to work there and I wanted to give you plenty of notice."
Miss Kelly stood back from the counter. "Is that right?" she asked.
"But I'll be here on Sundays of course until I go."
"Is it a reference you're looking for?"
"No. Not at all. I just came to let you know."
"Well, that's lovely now. So we'll see you when you come home on holidays, if you'll still be talking to everyone."
"I'll be here on Sunday," Eilis said.
"Ah, no, we won't be needing you at all. If you're going, you're best to go."
"But I could come."
"No, you couldn't. There'd be too much talk about you and there'd be too much distraction and we're very busy on a Sunday, as you know, without that."
"I was hoping I could work until I left."
"Not here you can't. So be off with you now. We have plenty of work, more deliveries today and more stacking. And no time for talking."
"Well, thank you very much."
"And thank you too."
As Miss Kelly moved towards the store at the back of the shop, Eilis looked to see if Mary would turn so she could say goodbye to her. Since Mary did not, Eilis quietly left the shop and went home.
Miss Kelly was the only one who mentioned the possibility of her coming home on holidays. No one else mentioned it. Until now, Eilis had always presumed that she would live in the town all her life, as her mother had done, knowing everyone, having the same friends and neighbours, the same routines in the same streets. She had expected that she would find a job in the town, and then marry someone and give up the job and have children. Now, she felt that she was being singled out for something for which she was not in any way prepared, and this, despite the fear it carried with it, gave her a feeling, or more a set of feelings, she thought she might experience in the days before her wedding, days in which everyone looked at her in the rush of arrangements with light in their eyes, days in which she herself was fizzy with
Similar Books
Relics
Shaun Hutson
Prep work
PD Singer
Walking with Jack
Don J. Snyder
Lost in You: Petal, Georgia, Book 2
Lauren Dane
Collected Poems in English and French
Samuel Beckett
Mania and the Executioner
A. L. Bridges
Surfeit of Lampreys
Ngaio Marsh
Whispers
Erin Quinn