Chapter 3 Bill

It was such a pity, Bill Burke often felt, that he was not in love with Grania Dunne. She worked in the bank with him and was about twenty-three, his own age. She came from a normal kind of home. She was attractive and easy to talk to.

They often discussed the people they loved. Grania told Bill about this man that she just couldn't get out of her mind. He was as old as her father and smoked, but she had never met anyone who attracted her so much.

Bill understood, because he loved Lizzie Dufly, the most unsuitable person in the world. Lizzie was beautiful but she was also trouble. She said that she loved Bill, or she thought she did; but she had never met anyone so serious in her whole life. Most of Lizzie's other friends were only interested in having fun. Like Lizzie, they had little interest in getting or keeping jobs. It was stupid loving Lizzie.

Bill knew that Lizzie had borrowed a lot of money from his bank. And she never seemed to pay it back. 'You'll have to do well in banking,' she often said to Bill. 'I can only marry a successful man. When we're twenty-five and get married, you must be on your way to the top.' As she spoke, she gave her beautiful laugh, showing all her small white teeth, and she shook her long golden hair. But Bill knew that she meant it.

'Lizzie, don't,' he had to say as she ordered another bottle of wine. He would have to pay for it, and she was talking about wanting a holiday too.

It was becoming very difficult for Bill. He lived with his parents and his sister. Olive. Olive was twenty-five but she had the mind of an eight-year-old child. She was not ill but she would never be normal and would need to be looked after. Bill earned a lot more than his father, who had worked hard to give him a good start in life, so he had hoped to help his family financially. And he really needed a new suit too. Where could he find all this money? It was, of course, possible to borrow it. Possible but not desirable.

That evening, there was a talk at the bank on job opportunities. The speaker said that there would be opportunities to work abroad in a year's time. The world was open to young people who could speak other languages and who had special skills. If they were interested, they should start to prepare themselves now.

Bill started thinking. If he was chosen to work in a European capital, he would earn good money; Lizzie might come and live with him in Paris or Rome or Madrid.

He started to look at information about language courses. They were very expensive and he didn't know how to choose. As usual, he talked to his friend Grania about it.

'My father's starting an evening class in Italian at his school,' she said. 'It begins in September and they're looking for pupils.' 'Would it be good?'

'I don't know.' Grania was always so honest. 'But they've got an Italian teacher, called Signora. My father says she's great.'

Bill told his parents that night that he was going to learn Italian. His father said it was good to see a boy improving himself all the time.

He told Lizzie about the class. 'Would you like to learn too?' he asked hopefully.

'What for?' Lizzie laughed, and he laughed too, although he didn't know why.

'Well, so that you could speak a bit of Italian if we went there, you know.'

'But don't Italians speak English?'

'Some of them do, but I'm still going to learn it. The lessons are on Tuesdays and Thursdays.'

'I would come with you Bill, but honestly I just don't have the money.' Her eyes were so big.

'I'll pay for your course,' Bill said. Now he would definitely have to borrow some money from a bank. They were nice to him in the bank.

'You can borrow more than that,' a helpful young man said. 'I know, but it might be difficult to pay it back,' said Bill. Then he thought of the suit and he thought of his parents. He'd love to take them out somewhere special. He borrowed twice as much money as he had intended to.

Grania told Bill how pleased her father was that she had got two new members for the class.

'I'm going to try my friend Fiona tonight,' Grania said.

'Fiona who works in the hospital?' Bill had a feeling that Grania was trying to get him and Fiona together.

'Yeah, you know about Fiona. A great friend of mine. I tell her all my problems; like when I discovered about Tony taking my father's job. Did I tell you about that?'

She had told him many times.

'If you went back to Tony,' he said, 'would your father be very upset about it?'

Grania looked at Bill quickly. How did he know exactly what was in her own mind? 'I've decided that I'll wait a bit,' she said slowly, until things are better in my Dad's life. Then he might be able to face something like that.'

•

Lizzie had become excited about the lessons. 'I'm telling everyone that we'll be speaking Italian soon,' she laughed happily, the night before they began. 'What should I wear?'

Only Lizzie would want to know that. Other people might ask if they should bring a notebook or a dictionary.

'Something that won't attract too much attention,' Bill suggested hopefully. It was a silly suggestion. Lizzie didn't have clothes that wouldn't attract attention.

'But what exactly?'

Bill knew that he had to choose a colour. 'I love the red,' he said.

Her eyes shone. It was easy to please Lizzie. 'I'll try it on now,' she said, and got out her short red skirt and red and white shirt. She looked beautiful, fresh and young, just like a magazine picture with her golden hair.

•

The evening classes were held in a school in a poor area of the city. The building was dusty and dirty and it needed painting.

But Bill was pleasantly surprised when they went in. Big pictures covered the walls, pictures of Rome and of Italian art, of Italian wine and food. There was also a table in the room, covered in red, white and green paper. On the table were paper plates that seemed to have real food on them ... little pieces of meat and cheese. Someone had made a very big effort.

Bill hoped that it would all go well: for the strange woman with the red and grey hair called Signora, for the kind man standing at the back who must be Grania's father, for all the people who sat nervously waiting for it to start.

When they were all quiet, Signora introduced herself. 'Mi chiamo Signora. Come si chiama?” she asked the man who must be Grania's father.

'Mi chiamo Aidan,' he said. And they continued like this around the classroom.

Lizzie loved it. 'Mi chiamo Lizzie', she cried, and everyone smiled admiringly.

'Let's try to make our names more Italian.You could say: "Mi chiamo Elizabetta".'

Lizzie loved that even more and repeated it several times.

Then they all wrote Mi chiamo and their names on big pieces of paper and fixed them on their clothes. And they learned to say how they were, what time it was, what day and date it was and where they lived.

'Chi e?' Signora asked, pointing at Bill.

' Guglielrno,' the class all shouted back.

Soon they knew everyone's names in Italian and the class had clearly relaxed.

'Bene,' said Signora. 'Now we have ten minutes more.' Everyone was surprised. Had two hours passed already? 'You have all worked so hard that we can have something to eat now. But first you must pronounce the words for the food.'

Like children, the thirty adults ate the meat and cheese and pronounced the words.

When it ended, Bill and Lizzie walked to the bus stop.

' Ti amo,' she said to him suddenly.

'What's that?' he asked.

'It means I love you!' Lizzie said, smiling.

'How do you know?' He was so surprised.

'I asked her before we left. She said they were the two most beautiful words in the world.'

'They are, they are,' said Bill.

•

Aidan Dunne watched the success of the evening class with a pleasure that surprised him. Week after week they came to the school, on bicycles, motorcycles, buses, even that well-dressed woman in the BMW. What was she doing here? And there was the beautiful girl with the golden hair and her nice boyfriend in his good suit. And the dark, violent-looking Luigi, and the older man called Lorenzo. What a surprising variety.

But the people in the class seemed to be forming a special sort of relationship. They were like children, wanting to do well. Possibly because Signora believed they could all do anything, they began to believe it too. For Signora, it was only possible to feel love for the Italian language. And that is what they felt.

Signora had asked Aidan if he would like her to make a cover for the chair in his study at home.

'Come and see the room,' Aidan suggested suddenly. 'Are you free on Saturday morning?'

'I can be free any time,' she said.

She brought materials for the chair. 'I thought that yellow would be right, from what you told me,' she said, holding up a rich golden colour. 'Do you want to show it to your wife before I begin?'

'No, no. I mean this is my room, really.'

'Yes, of course.' Signora never asked any questions.

Aidan hadn't told Nell or his daughters about the visit, and he was glad that they weren't there that morning. Together he and Signora drank to the success of the Italian class.

•

Bill was taking sandwiches to work. He could certainly not afford to eat in the bank's restaurant. He was worried about how he was going to pay his debts next month.

Lizzie had already told Bill that she would have to miss the next Italian class. Her mother was coming to Dublin and she wanted to meet her at the station. 'And Bill, could you lend me the money for a taxi? My mother hates buses.'

Bill gave her the money and kissed her. 'Will I meet your mother this time?'

'I hope so. Bill. But she knows so many people, you see. They take all her time.'

Bill thought it was strange that none of these friends were able to meet her with a car or taxi. But he didn't say it. He knew that Lizzie's mother lived in the west of Ireland and belonged to a group of artists and painters. He had the idea that she mixed with rich and important people.

So he was surprised when Lizzie telephoned him after his class. She sounded upset.

'What's wrong. Lizzie?'

'Everything,' she said. 'Could you come round here. Bill? I need you.'

It seemed that her mother had only wanted to meet her for a quick drink at the station. It was always the same; she never had any time for Lizzie.

'I had her supper ready. But she said she was meeting an artist friend of hers. She said she'd only met me to keep me quiet. She actually pushed past me.' And then Lizzie told Bill for the first time how her mother had left her father, herself and her sisters when they were still quite young.

Bill was sad and angry that this woman had upset Lizzie. Why couldn't she be nice for a few hours?

'How did your mother live when she left your father?' Bill wanted to know. 'Did she have a job?'

Lizzie looked a bit embarrassed. 'I didn't know this until recently. Bill. But when she left us, she did cleaning and housework in a big house.'

Bill couldn't believe what he heard. So this was the free and artistic life that he had always felt rather jealous of. It had seemed so different to his own dull family life.

'It's all right,' he said gently to Lizzie. 'No families are perfect. Perhaps when the weather is better we could take the bus and visit your mother. It's never too late to change.'

On the way home Bill felt more hopeful than he had felt for a long time. He didn't need to think that he might be too boring for Lizzie. He knew now that she wanted to feel safe, to be loved and have a home, and he could give her all those things. Of course she would still want to spend too much money. But her mother had worked, so perhaps he could lead Lizzie towards regular work too.

Bill Burke walked on through the night as other people drove by in taxis or cars. But it didn't matter. He was a lucky man.