Breezes

BREEZES

Mary woke to morning light and the sound of the shades chattering against the open windows. Rising to stop the noise and the breeze, she cast her mind back to her last bout of sleep-walking. The open windows signified it had started again, as she could not abide a breeze across her face when she slept. Another reason to lock the door after her each night. She’d never unlocked a door in her sleep. She would remember to lock the windows as well, and put away the key.

She threw water on her face, tossed on her father's massive flannel robe and charged down the stairs to shake the worry from her mind.

The kitchen sink was filled just as she had imagined the night before, but she had the fry pans scrubbed and out of the way before the kettle was hot. The milk she poured into her Nescafé was curdled, so she dumped the cup and made black tea. She did not toss the rest of the milk, but set it aside.

Pulling a sack of flour from the press she dragged a few hands full out of it into the largest bowl on the counter. She rubbed a lump of salted butter into the flour until it became a mealy crumble. She dumped in a palm of demerera sugar from the chipped bowl on the table and tossed in a fist full of sultanas and another of caraway seed before wetting it all with the soured milk. Pushing it together in the bowl she cast her mind back to the last time her hands were sticky with dough. It was in her mother’s house in the west and her father was still alive. He told her those scones were grand. The memory caught in her throat but it made her smile through hot tears. With each drag on the dough, the cords contracting the back of her neck began to release and her breathing became more even and full.

Separating the dough into two mounds she patted the first between her hands and felt pleasure in the damp weight of it. She flopped it onto a tray and gave it the smack you’d give a bold baby’s behind. Two perpendicular thwaps to each loaf with the carving knife to score them and they were in the oven and ready to come out in the time it took her to dress.

She tucked into the one and left it on the board for the flatmates. The other she wrapped in a tea towel dropping it into a SuperQuinn tote to carry to work with her. Heading into the day Mary had not yet one thought of her Yank or any more thoughts of the clattering blinds and what they might portend.

The Resource Meeting

Late for the meeting, Mary slid the bread onto the counter in the staff room, tucked her bag under her desk and grabbed the review file she had wisely sorted out the morning before. There was a bit of sniggering, she noticed, when she entered the meeting with apologies. Padriag hadn’t yet arrived either, but that was as expected. Mary was never late and the others would remind her no end about this time.

They started with those in attendance and Belinda was merciless in the red lines she was striking through the items on each department’s wish list. Eilis wanted three more ball pits and two therapy tables. She would get one of each. Niamh expected a laptop for each therapist as well as touch screens for the two desktop computers. Belinda would allow for one laptop or one touch screen. Niamh tossed back her head and rolled her eyes. Mary would have been able to take Belinda aside and convince her to give them two laptops, but now it was pointless. Niamh wasn’t suited to the position of manager, and everyone knew it, but no one else would take the job.

Padraig made a grand entrance with the tea tray loaded with mugs and Mary’s scone. He’d already made a dent in it, crumbs speckling his scraggly beard. “I come with apologies, bearing gifts.” And, as always, he was forgiven.

“Right, then,” Belinda barked. “Get your tea and get settled. There’s more to do.” Padriag had already poured out the correct selections for each of them: Eilis’s camomile, Niamh’s coffee, Belinda’s licorice tea….. And they all tucked into the scone, remarking that it was the best Nora’d made in a long time. Nora being the cook for the school attached to the clinic, and she sent breads and cakes to the staff room with some regularity. Mary didn’t mention it had come by her hand, but pocketed the compliments none the less.

“You look particularly well today, Mary,” Eilis offered when they were heading out of the over-long meeting. “Sorry? Oh, ta.” Meeting Eilis’s gaze as she thanked her, Mary noticed the older woman’s eyes were younger than the rest of her, and kind. “Ta very much,” she repeated the thanks, feeling oddly guilty about the vile thoughts she’d had about the woman the day before.

“Would you be going to Begnachgar, then?” Eilis asked. Mary nodded absently.

“If I could come along with you? I have an appointment on the Castle road and my husband’s to collect me there. Belinda won’t be going south today after all and so I’m in a fix.”

Eilis sounded as breathless as a schoolgirl.

“No bother.” (Though it was.) “I’ll be ten minutes before I’m ready.”

“You’re grand, you’re grand,” and Eilis waddled off on her purply pegs to collect her things.

Mary sorted quickly through the f*ckin’ curses she might f*ckin’ mutter under her breath.