The Ballroom Café Read Online Free Page B

to the tragic accident, which meant no further pins would be ordered by the O’Callaghans of Roscarbury Hall.
    A month later, Muriel Hearty had rushed up the driveway of Roscarbury, again in an agitated state of excitement. ‘It is another box,’ she shouted.
    Even Muriel Hearty had been silenced when Ella ripped it open to reveal not one but two exquisite black brooches. The letter of sympathy attached was graceful and dignified. Ella took out the second brown box and looked at the two brooches. At the time, Roberta declined to accept her one, and though Ella never wore hers these days, in the first year after the death of her parents, she found comfort in the pin, which was a simple black flower.
    Pushing the box to the back of the drawer, she pulled on her heavy coat. Stopping in the front hall to take out a small compact from her handbag, she strained to see in the tiny mirror. Carefully she powdered her face, shoving her powder puff in the creases under her eyes, for a moment squashing her wrinkles so she looked like the young Ella with the big, some would say sad, eyes.
    Banging the back door behind her, she waved to Iris, not slowing her pace, moving quickly through the back yard to the well-worn path across two fields and through a small wood, to the cemetery.
    Quickly, she walked to the small plots to the right. Shaking her head so the tears had no time to lodge and swell her face, she turned to the small grave under a single cypress tree. Once Carrie’s grave had been alone at the far end of the graveyard, but now there were well-worn paths to nearly an acre more of the dead.

     
    BELOVED DAUGHTER
    Carrie Hannigan, who Died Tragically on June 23, 1959.
    Deeply Missed by Her Mother, Ella, and Father, Michael.
    Gone, but Never Forgotten.
    Another Angel in Heaven.

     
    A wave of impatience rolled over her, like it always did. Walking quickly away, she unfurled her shopping bag. Slowing her pace, she dithered at the narrow, overgrown track around the outside of the cemetery wall. Two years they had been married. Slowly, she walked up the path and stood at his grave, leaning down to scrub the dust off the plain wooden plaque.

     
    Private Michael Hannigan.
    A Soldier with the Irish Army
    Died September 4, 1959.
    Sadly Missed by His Loving Wife, Ella.

     
    Straightening, she spotted the dog, a leg up against a pot of plastic flowers on McDonald the grocer’s grave. Iris was forever letting that dog roam free; she would have to tell her to keep it tied up in future.

4
     
    Bowling Green, March 1968
    Rob Kading, pulling in to the driveway, saw the porch door swinging open. Stepping out of the driver’s seat, he stooped to straighten a supporting rod on the raspberry canes and waved to old man Haussman across the way. Placing his briefcase in its usual spot inside the door, he called out to Agnes softly before making his way to the kitchen. Surprised the table was not set for dinner, he called to his wife again as he moved across to the dining room.
    He unfastened the leather strap of his watch and checked the time against the dining-room clock before placing the timepiece carefully on the mantelpiece. Hearing a light step on the outside porch, he was so sure he called out ‘Aggie’.
    ‘Mr Kading, it’s Moira Rochdale. Silly of me, but I wondered is Agnes all right? She didn’t turn up to teach her flower-arranging class.’
    ‘Moira, I think she’s gone out. I’m just home from work. Maybe she was called away.’
    Moira Rochdale angled closer on the porch.
    ‘The ladies were so disappointed. Agnes isn’t usually like this. So dependable. Usually,’ she twittered.
    Rob Kading was not listening. He noticed her raincoat and her handbag were missing from the coat rack.
    ‘Mr Kading is everything all right?’
    ‘My wife must have an urgent appointment. I will convey your concerns to her,’ he said, as he manoeuvred Moira Rochdale’s ample frame back out onto the porch. He didn’t know why exactly, but