Free Mothers and Sons by Colm Tóibín Page B

big changes in the town, plenty of traffic I hear and plenty of money. And I do hear the advertisements for Dunne’s Stores on the wireless, but I wouldn’t like them at all now, they wouldn’t be from the town and they wouldn’t know anyone. They’ll never catch on, Nancy, those Dunnes.’
    When the tea had been finished, Mags O’Connor asked Nancy if she would like a small glass of sherry.
    ‘It’ll help you on your way,’ she said.
    By the time Nancy had refused, a tray had appeared, carried by one of the nieces, with a bottle and five small glasses.
    ‘And I asked the girls, and they’re very good, I asked them to get you a little token of thanks.’
    Mags produced a small package wrapped in shiny red paper and handed it to her.
    ‘Now you’ll have to remember it’s just a token,’ Magssaid as Nancy opened the package and found a bottle of 4711 perfume. Mags smiled and nodded her head as Nancy thanked her.
    ‘Oh, the Sheridans were always very nice people,’ she said.
    It was after eleven when Nancy left the house and it had begun to rain. By the time she reached the road she knew that if she turned left she could be home in twenty-five minutes when maybe Gerard would be still awake. If she turned right, she would have three miles more and then another lane to the Sutherlands, to deliver them three large pans and four batch loaves, six pots of jam and six jars of Bovril. She realized, as soon as the idea came into her head, that she would turn left and go home. She could still, she thought, sell the bread in the supermarket the next morning.
    N ANCY WAS AMAZED one night the following week when Gerard asked her if she was going to get married again. She told him it was the last thing on her mind.
    ‘Oh now,’ he said. ‘That’s not what I heard.’
    Eventually, after much withholding and teasing, he told her how he and his sisters had seen their mother three times in the recent past in deep discussions with Birdseye, the commercial traveller.
    ‘We were just speaking about business, Gerard,’ she said. ‘Don’t be going on with nonsense.’
    ‘That’s what they all say,’ he replied.
    Over the days that followed he made a point of leaving a packet of Birdseye custard at her place at the table. He was not to be stopped so she ignored him, surprised by hisconfidence and his cheek and unsure how to respond to him.
    She did not want him to know anything about the conversations with Birdseye, who was the most popular and talkative commercial traveller who came to the shop. He ended each sentence with ‘Mrs’ as though it were a Christian name. Even when George was alive he would single her out and talk to her at great length when he came to get his order, telling her the news and knowing a good deal about the plans for expansion and the inner workings of Dunne’s Stores. He was small and chubby, with a large and friendly face. George had always laughed at him when he was gone, saying that he was a born salesman, that you would buy from him because he seemed so harmless.
    She did not know why he was the one to whom she explained her circumstances. Maybe it was his harmlessness, and his living a distance away where no one knew her was certainly a factor, but more than anything she knew that he would listen to her, and that not a detail would be lost on him. She did not tell him about the cash mounting slowly in the bottom drawer because she could not gauge what his response to that would be. But she told him the rest, and he stared at her as he concentrated on each word, waiting for the next piece of information.
    ‘I’ll come back tomorrow, Mrs,’ he said. ‘Will you be here at four? I’ll come back tomorrow and I’ll have plenty to say to you then, Mrs.’
    He came back the next day when Catherine was also working and he whispered to Nancy as soon he arrived, asking if he could see the store which was across thehallway. The old counter of the spirit grocery was still there and the window with