Thetopsofthe town– part2

IWAS playing handball in the scouts yard next door with Brendan Firman, completely oblivious to my inclusion in the Kitchen pow wow. From the moment of my uncle Seamus’s arrival, it was obvious that he had something to reveal. It wasn’t his physical appearance, for he always dressed like a gentleman outside of his job as a manager overseeing the dissecting of pigs, in Clover Meats. It was the sheer delight in his smile, the glow behind his black horn rimmed glasses.

Everyone liked Seamus, he hadn’t got a bad word to say about anyone, and therefore everyone knew he hadn’t a bad word to say about them.

My father sat at the kitchen table in his collarless shirt and braces, studying the horses on the broad sheet.

‘Well… any tips?’

My uncle Seamus was famous for his clandestine tips, whispered certainties for the afternoon meet at Cheltenham or the likes, inevitably the tip was accompanied with an instruction to tell no-one.

But that morning he had none to offer; there was a more important mission at hand. My father didn’t mind, the tips were notoriously useless. Hearing him talking to me da, my mother lighted in from the tiny back kitchen wiping flour from her hands with a tea towel

‘Gooood morNING,’ said she, exaggerating a prim greeting. Keeping up the affectionate frolic, he responded in kind.

‘Indeeeed it is! A very nice morNING.’

‘I suppose you’d like a cup of tea, wouldn’t you?’

She bounced on her toes as she always did, when she was happy. ‘I would… Love, a cup of tea.’ Cups and saucers were rattled out at the opposing end of the table where my father had spread his newspaper. Fortunately for me I entered just as the rhubarb tart was being sliced, I knew it was there; it had been cooling down beneath a tea towel when I ran out to play.

Knowing too well about the cooling span between baking and eating, I was glad to take my mind off it by playing handball.

‘I suppose you smelled that from the Scouts Yard?’ my mother cajoled.

‘Hello uncle Seamus; yeah, I noticed it was there, and that you wouldn’t let me near it?’

Seamus giggled, he gave me more credit than I deserved for being clever, he was generous with children, and naturally that endeared us to him. In turn his earnestness and good will brought that out in us all.

Being a parent is a lot harder when others cast aspersions on your child, nothing is usually gained other than discomfort. Seamus brought out the best in me as a child, and my mother as a parent.

Tea was being taken with hand-held tart, the combination was so pleasing to the taste buds, it travelled to our hearts and caused us to soar even higher. The scene was perfectly set for my uncle Seamus to introduce his mysterious plan.

‘We-ell?’ said my mother, bursting with curiosity, ‘I suppose you better tell us what the big mystery is.’

Seamus could do no wrong in my mother’s eyes, she was ten years his senior, and because she was the only girl among five children, she tended to play a matronly role, even more so since their mother died.

Their relationship was warm and yet mannered, cross words were never exchanged, and at the years end, when Seamus got carried away with the abundance of baby powers he received as a Christmas box, it was our house he came to, for my mother to comfort his spinning head.

Balancing the saucer on his knee, Seamus leaned forward to confide.

( To be continued)