Carmel Harrington - The Woman at 72 Derry Lane

‘Paradise, love, that’s where.’

From that day on, we all diligently threw any spare cash we had into our jar. If Eli or I saw any change on the ground we’d rush to pick it up. I started to babysit for the Whelan family, who were good payers. When a lot of my friends just got a fiver an hour, they always paid eight euro. I babysat for them at least one night a week, and as Mam often sniffed, they were never in. I cheered their hectic social life, long might it continue. As a rule, I donated one-third of my wages to the fund, except when it was someone’s birthday and I had to buy them presents. Eli started to work in the local hardware store at weekends and on school holidays. Like me, he donated a third of his wages to the fund too. Every now and then this went a bit pear-shaped, because he’d blow all his cash on materials for some new DIY project he had on the go.

Saturday had always been takeaway night in the Madden house. Dad thought that Mam deserved one night off each week from cooking for us lot. I loved those nights. We’d all collapse onto the couches in the sitting room, with the long glass coffee table laid, waiting for Dad to come home with our supper. In front of Who Wants to be a Millionaire?, we’d gorge ourselves silly. Yep, Saturday nights were my favourite of all days in the week. But then one morning, Mam said, ‘You know, I was thinking, I can make homemade chips myself. If I did that, we could stick an extra twenty euro in the jar each week.’

‘I’ve always said that your chips are twice as nice as the chipper ones anyway,’ Dad declared. ‘And I’ll even peel the spuds for you. Can’t say fairer than that.’

‘My hero,’ Mam said, laughing, then pointed to the dishwasher, ‘while you’re at it, you might empty that too.’

‘Give an inch and take a mile,’ but he still jumped to his feet to do as asked, as he always did.

So, with all of us working hard, every few months the jar reached cramming point. Eli and I would sit down around our kitchen table and count out the money saved into neat piles. Dad would scribble down the total amount in a little red notebook. Then with Eli and me doing a drum roll, he’d add up the grand total accumulated so far. The excitement rose as hundreds became a thousand and then, when we reached two thousand pounds, our dream became a tangible reality. We were going to do this.

‘I’m so proud of this family. Together we are fecking unbeatable!’ Dad said, delighted with us all.

Dad lodged the money in his savings account so we’d not be tempted to spend any of it. Now and then, after dinner, we would lose hours around that kitchen table talking about where we’d go and what we’d do when we got there. Paradise was different for each of us and it was likely to change a lot. We were a fickle bunch, us Maddens. I don’t think Eli and I really gave any credence to Mam and Dad’s choices, though. We were selfish, as children often are, and I suppose we got so caught up in the excitement; it became all about us and what we wanted. And Mam and Dad, of course, let us have our own way.

America was top of our wish list; we’d always wanted to visit Disneyland and Universal Studios. And even though we never actually took a vote, soon all we talked about was visiting the Sunshine State. I borrowed a book from the library all about Florida and a friend of Dad’s, who worked in the travel agency on O’Connell Street, gave us dozens of brochures, which soon became worn and dog-eared because we would all thumb through them so often.

Then, on my fourteenth birthday, two years after we started the fund, I got the best present ever. It took me completely by surprise. Aren’t they the best gifts, the ones when you truly have no clue that something wonderful is about to happen?

I had received some money from Aunty Paula and my godfather Jim too, who usually forgot, so that in itself was worthy of note. Mam often remarked that it was ‘a pure waste of a godparent that fella. We don’t see him from one end of the year to the next and God help Skye if she’s reliant on him one day.’ All was forgiven as far as I was concerned, because when I bumped into him last week and casually threw in that I had a birthday coming up, he gave me forty euro. Forty! Anyhow, me being magnanimous, I had twenty euro of that to put in the jar. I glanced over at Eli, who had his headphones on and was mouthing along to Eminem’s ‘Stan’. State of him. I kicked him under the table to get his attention. If I was going to part with all this money, I at least wanted an appreciative audience.

‘So Mam, Dad, Eli,’ I said loudly, ‘I’m going to put €20.00 into our fund.’ I paused to admire their shocked faces. ‘That’s right, I said, €20.00.’ I took a second to acknowledge the compliments from Mam and Dad, smiling with delight as they told me how good I was.

Eli, the fecker, just ignored me and started mumbling lyrics from ‘Stan’ again.

‘My girlfriend’s pregnant, too, I’m ’bout to be a father, If I have a daughter, guess what I’ma call her? I’ma name her Bonnie’

And with that all hell broke loose. Mam went a funny shade of red and clasped Dad’s arm, ‘Did he just say he’s gotten a girl pregnant?’

‘He did,’ Dad replied. His eyes were locked on Eli’s, who was blind to the comedy gold unfolding in front of me.

‘That Faye Larkin, she’s been sniffing around …’ Mam said.

‘Fine-looking girl, in fairness,’ Dad replied and yelped when Mam hit him.

‘He wouldn’t go near her!’ I said, horrified at the thought.

‘You hope and pray this doesn’t come to your door,’ Mam continued and I had to hide a snigger. She’d be knitting baby booties in a second.

I’d normally have let something as delicious as this play out its natural course, but I wanted all eyes on me right now. It was my birthday after all!

‘Would you all cop on! He’s singing a song!’ I said to them and Mam blessed herself and threw some thanks up to Saint Anthony.

I sighed loudly and rattled the jar for good measure until I got their attention again. My hand began to shake. I mean, a girl could do a lot of damage in Penny’s with twenty euro.

‘Anyhow, before Stan the Man over there interrupted me, I was about to donate HALF of my birthday money.’

‘We’re very proud of you. Your generosity knows no bounds,’ Mam said. I looked at her closely, trying to work out if she was being serious or taking the …

Just before the money left my clammy fingers, Dad grabbed my arm. ‘Hold onto that cash, love. You’ll be needing some spending money soon.’

I didn’t catch on straight away. ‘For what?’

‘We wanted to wait to tell you today. A Happy Birthday surprise!’ Mam continued and then she started to cry. Big fat tears splashed out of her eyes. I jumped up, worried.

‘Mam!’ I cried, and threw myself into her arms. ‘Oh Mam, what’s wrong with you?’

Eli pulled his headphones off. ‘Mam?’

‘What are you blathering on about?’ she replied. ‘These are tears of happiness, you eejits. Your dad and I have a surprise for you both. You tell them, John. I’m an old fool, can’t stop crying, I’m that happy.’

‘No you tell them, Mary,’ Dad replied, looking a bit emotional too and they grabbed a hold of each other, half laughing, half crying.

‘What are we like?’ Mam said to Dad and they laughed some more.

‘Oh for goodness sake, will one of you tell us?’ I screamed and Eli shouted, ‘Yeah!’

‘There’s no need to shout,’ Mam said, sniffing. Then her face broke into the biggest smile. ‘We’re all going to Florida.’ And she and Dad started to bounce up and down on the spot like demented kangaroos.