Letter from Chicago. Cathy Kelly

      Tom McDonnell didn’t sit at the kitchen table for breakfast. He ate a piece of toast standing up. He had a job in Rathfarnham at half nine. The traffic would be mad at this time of the morning. His mother-in-law usually gave out to him when he didn’t eat a proper breakfast. She said nothing today. He ate his toast and wondered if she was sick.

      At ten to eight, he was ready to leave the house.

      ‘Bye, love,’ he said to Kim. He kissed her goodbye. ‘Bye Elsie, bye girls.’

      ‘Bye Dad,’ answered the girls. Elsie didn’t speak. She had to be sick, Tom thought. Elsie never stopped talking. She talked about the neighbours, about bingo, and about her sister in America. Elsie had lived with them for two years, since she’d been widowed. Tom had learned not to listen. He liked Elsie but she talked enough for four people.

      He shut the front door and thought it could do with a lick of paint. The whole house could do with a lick of paint. There just weren’t enough hours in the day, Tom decided as he got into the van. McDonnell’s Electrical Services, read the writing on the side. It had been a big step to set up his own business. That was five years ago.

      Now, he was always busy. But money was still tight. Every time he looked, the twins needed new clothes or new shoes. Kim’s car needed replacing. It would fall apart one of these days. He might buy a lottery ticket with his lunch.

      Chapter Two

      ‘What’s wrong, Mother?’ asked Kim when Tom was gone.

      She knew that something was wrong with her mother. Elsie’s face was white under its dusting of pinky face-powder. She had said no to a second cup of tea. She had stared into space for ages. Even worse, she hadn’t given out to the twins about their loud music. Rows about loud music made up most of the arguments in the house. ‘Nothing’s wrong,’ said Elsie. She drained the rest of her cold tea.

      ‘Mother …’ warned Kim. ‘I’m not blind. Please tell me what’s wrong.’

      Elsie knew it was time to be honest. ‘This came this morning.’ She handed the letter to her daughter.

      Kim read it carefully. Her face got grimmer with each word. ‘Aunt Maisie has a nerve!’ she said when she had finished. She was furious. There was no room in their house for two American visitors. There was no room for any visitor. They only had three bedrooms. Where did Aunt Maisie think the Americans would sleep? In the garden? On the roof with next door’s ginger cat?

      ‘What’s wrong?’ asked Laura, her mouth full of cornflakes.

      Kim was furious. ‘Your Aunt Maisie in Chicago has told us that Charleen is coming to stay. In August and with a friend.’

      ‘Cool!’ said Emer. She had never met her American cousin. She wondered if Charleen would look like a movie star. American teenagers on television all looked like movie stars. They never seemed to have spots and they all had long legs. Emer dreamed about having long, long legs.

      ‘Where will they sleep?’ asked Laura. She was the practical one.

      ‘I don’t know where they will sleep.’ Kim was still angry. ‘This is a small house. Why does Aunt Maisie think we have room for two guests?’

      Elsie bit her lip.

      ‘I think that’s my fault,’ Elsie said in a small voice.

      The eight o’clock news began on the radio.

      ‘Blast. We’re going to be late,’ said Kim crossly. She always left before the news.

      ‘Come on, girls, you’ll be late too if you don’t get a move on.’ Kim quickly shoved the breakfast dishes in the sink. ‘I’ll do them tonight,’ she told her mother. ‘And then you can tell me what this is all about.’

      The school where she worked was very near the twins’ school, so she dropped them off every morning. Emer and Laura always fought about who sat in the back of the car. The Mini was well over twenty years old and the back seat was uncomfortable. This morning, they didn’t discuss where they’d sit. They knew that their normally easygoing mother was in a rare temper. Laura hopped quietly in the back.

      ‘I bet your grandmother has been inviting Maisie to stay with us for years, without telling me!’ Kim raged. ‘I don’t want Maisie turning up here. I’ve never met her in my life! We can do without rich relatives landing here.’

      The twins said nothing.

      Laura wondered what it must be like for Gran to have a sister she hadn’t seen for over forty years. Gran had told her about growing up on the farm in Leitrim. She and Maisie had been the youngest in a big family. There was a year between them, so they were like twins.

      ‘I remember spending hours getting ready to go to dances,’ Gran had fondly recalled. ‘Maisie would try and sneak out of the house without Da seeing that she was wearing red lipstick,’ Gran said. Maisie had a great romance with a local lad around about the time Gran had met Grandad. But the lad Maisie liked was the oldest son and he was getting the farm.

      ‘Maisie wasn’t one for settling down on another farm. She couldn’t wait to get out of the West,’ Gran said sadly. ‘She had her heart set on America for years. This lad came home from Boston to his mother’s funeral and Maisie upped and married him.’

      ‘Why did she never come back to visit, Gran?’ Laura asked.