Colm Tóibín - Brooklyn

Miss Kelly seemed to be enjoying herself; Eilis could think of no way of stopping her.

"And so I telephoned Madge with all the news, and about you paying out the wages down in Davis 's."

"Did you, Miss Kelly?"

It was clear to Eilis that Miss Kelly had prepared every word of what she was saying. The idea that the man who had taken the photograph in Cush, a figure Eilis barely remembered and had never seen before, had been in Miss Kelly's shop talking about her and that this news was conveyed to Mrs. Kehoe in Brooklyn suddenly made her afraid.

"And once she had news of her own, then she telephoned back," Miss Kelly said. "So, now."

"And what did she say, Miss Kelly?"

"Oh, I think you know what she said."

"Was it interesting?"

In her tone, Eilis tried to equal Miss Kelly's air of disdain.

"Oh, don't try and fool me!" Miss Kelly said. "You can fool most people, but you can't fool me."

"I am sure I would not like to fool anyone," Eilis said.

"Is that right, Miss Lacey? If that's what your name is now."

"What do you mean?"

"She told me the whole thing. The world, as the man says, is a very small place."

Eilis knew from the gloating expression on Miss Kelly's face that she herself had not been able to disguise her alarm. A shiver went through her as she wondered if Tony had come to see Mrs. Kehoe and told her of their wedding. Instantly, she thought this unlikely. More likely, she reasoned, was that someone in the queue that day in City Hall had recognized her or Tony, or seen their names, and passed the news on to Mrs. Kehoe or one of her cronies.

She stood up. "Is that all you have to say, Miss Kelly?"

"It is, but I'll be phoning Madge again and I'll tell her I met you. How is your mother?"

"She's very well, Miss Kelly."

Eilis was shaking.

"I saw you after that Byrne one's wedding getting into the car with Jim Farrell. Your mother looked well. I hadn't seen her for a while but I thought she looked well."

"She'll be glad to hear that," Eilis said.

"Oh, now, I'm sure," Miss Kelly replied.

"So is that all, Miss Kelly?"

"It is," Miss Kelly said and smiled grimly at her as she stood up. "Except don't forget your umbrella."

On the street, Eilis searched in her handbag and found she had the letter from the shipping company with the number to call to reserve a place on the liner. In the Market Square she stopped at Godfrey's and bought some notepaper and envelopes. She walked along Castle Street and down Castle Hill to the post office. At the desk, she gave them the number she wished to phone and they told her to wait in the kiosk in the corner of the office. When the phone rang, she lifted the receiver and gave her name and details to the shipping company clerk, who found her file and told her that the earliest possible sailing from Cobh to New York was Friday, the day after tomorrow, and he could, if that suited her, reserve a place for her in third class at no extra charge. Once she agreed, he gave her the time of the sailing and the planned date of arrival and she hung up.

Having paid for the phone call, she asked for airmail envelopes. When the clerk found some, she asked for four and went to the small writing booth near the window and wrote four letters. To Father Flood, Mrs. Kehoe and Miss Fortini she simply apologized for her late departure and told them when she would be arriving. To Tony, she said that she loved him and missed him and would be with him, she hoped, by the end of the following week. She gave him the name of the liner and the details she had about the possible time of arrival. She signed her name. And then, having closed the other three envelopes, she read over what she had written to Tony and thought to tear it up and ask for another but decided instead to seal it and hand it in at the desk with the rest.

On the way up Friary Hill she discovered that she had left her umbrella in the post office but did not go back to collect it.

Her mother was in the kitchen, washing up. She turned as Eilis came in.

"I thought after you had left that I should have gone with you. It's a lonely old place, out there."

"The graveyard?" Eilis asked as she sat down at the kitchen table.

"Isn't that where you were?"

"It is, Mammy."

She thought she was going to be able to speak now, but she found that she could not; the words would not come, just a few heavy heaves of breath. Her mother turned around again and looked at her. "Are you all right? Are you upset?"

"Mammy, there's something I should have told you when I came back first but I have to tell you now. I got married in Brooklyn before I came home. I am married. I should have told you the minute I got back."

Her mother reached for a towel and began to wipe her hands. Then she folded the towel carefully and deliberately and moved slowly towards the table.

"Is he American?"

"He is, Mammy. He's from Brooklyn."

Her mother sighed and put her hand out, holding the table as though she needed support. She nodded her head slowly.

"Eily, if you are married, you should be with your husband."

"I know."

Eilis started to cry and put her head down on her arms. As she looked up after a while, still sobbing, she found that her mother had not moved.

"Is he nice, Eily?"

She nodded. "He is," she said.

"If you married him, he'd have to be nice, that's what I think," she said.

Her mother's voice was soft and low and reassuring, but Eilis could see from the look in her eyes how much effort she was putting into saying as little as possible of what she felt.

"I have to go back," Eilis said. "I have to go in the morning."

"And you kept this from me all the time?" her mother said.

"I am sorry, Mammy."

She began to cry again.

"You didn't have to marry him? You weren't in trouble?" her mother asked.

"No."

"And tell me something: if you hadn't married him, would you still be going back?"

"I don't know," Eilis said.

"But you are getting the train in the morning?" her mother said.

"I am, the train to Rosslare and then to Cork."

"I'll go down and get Joe Dempsey to collect you in the morning. I'll ask him to come at eight so you'll be in plenty of time for the train." She stopped for a moment and Eilis noticed a look of great weariness come over her. "And then I'm going to bed because I'm tired and so I won't see you in the morning. So I'll say goodbye now."

"It's still early," Eilis said.

"I'd rather say goodbye now and only once." Her voice had grown determined.

Her mother came towards her, and, as Eilis stood up, she embraced her.

"Eily, you're not to cry. If you made a decision to marry someone, then he'd have to be very nice and kind and very special. I'd say he's all that, is he?"

"He is, Mammy."

"Well, that's a match, then, because you're all of those things as well. And I'll miss you. But he must be missing you too."

Eilis was waiting for her mother to say something else as her mother moved and stood in the doorway. Her mother simply looked at her, however, without saying anything.

"And you'll write to me about him when you get back?" she asked eventually. "You'll tell me all the news?"

"I'll write to you about him as soon as I get back," Eilis said.

"If I say any more, I'll only cry. So I'll go down to Dempsey's and arrange the car for you," her mother said as she walked out of the room in a way that was slow and dignified and deliberate.

Eilis sat quietly in the kitchen. She wondered if her mother had known all along that she had a boyfriend in Brooklyn. The letters Eilis had written to Rose had never been mentioned and yet they must have turned up somewhere. Her mother had gone through Rose's things with such care. She asked herself if her mother had long before prepared what she would say if Eilis announced that she was going back because she had a boyfriend. She almost wished her mother had been angry with her, or had even expressed disappointment. Her response had made Eilis feel that the very last thing in the world she wanted to do now was spend the evening alone packing her suitcases in silence with her mother listening from her bedroom.