little black book

“Get out of that room Ailsing!", shouted Peggy when she found her daughter in the bedroom of her recently passed mother. “I wasn’t doing anything mam" I said, startled at the high pitched scream. My mother just glared at me with tears in her eyes but then came to me, smiled and gently kissed me on the forehead. “I’m sorry Ash, I am just a bit stressed with arranging this funeral and I have no idea what to do" said Peggy suddenly bursting into tears. I held her briefly not knowing how to react. In all of my nineteen years, I had never seen her mother vulnerable before, let alone cry. “I think she would look nice in the white blouse, black skirt and that soft purple cardigan that she loves", I said. “That sounds perfect sweetheart, would you mind laying them out? I better go and put on the kettle, Uncle Sean and his latest one will be here any minute. Why does he have to bring her?” Peggy said, shaking her head and walking back out of the room.

I walked over to my grandmothers wardrobe and picked out the clothes and searched for a pair of shoes to match. Gran really did look after her clothes. I picked up the purple cardigan and buried my face into it, inhaling deeply the lovely lavender scent my gran always smelled of. All her shoes were still in the original boxes. But then again Gran never threw out anything. I opened up box after box looking for her black leather ones. I leaned into the back and pulled out an old shoe box. I opened it up and inside were photographs, an old napkin with a lipstick stain on it, an old stub of a ferry ticket and a little black book. I sat on the bed and carefully analysed the content. There were three pictures all containing the same man. One of him standing outside a mansion house wearing a suit, tie and top hat, standing next to him were several maids in black and white dresses. Another photo was of him wearing a sailors suit carrying a beautiful woman in his arms. They were staring into each others eyes happily. I turned over the picture and written on the back in faint pencil was “Benjamin and me. Trip to Corsica. 1943.” I dropped the picture. “Who the hell was Benjamin? My grandfathers name was Charlie and he was a farmer, not a sailor.” I then picked up the stub of the ferry ticket. It read “South Hampton to Corsica". It was a single journey ticket. Bewildered I picked up the little black book and hesitantly opened it. Inside on each page were handwritten love poems. I flipped to the back of the book and there was a piece of paper taped to the back page. I pried it loose and opened it up. On it was an address written in French and a note written underneath. “To my darling Lily, I know you had to leave and I understand why. You mean the world to me and I love you dearly. I’m sorry about everything. I always wished to return to you but unfortunately my wish will never be granted. Above is the address of the home I purchased for us, I have arranged to have it in your name. I cannot bring my fortune with me, therefore I have left it all to you my darling and it will be waiting for you in the bank where we opened up the account. All my love, forever and ever, Benjamin xxx”

I froze on the bed for several moments. I reread the letter over and over. What did this mean? Who was this man? Why had my grandmother never mentioned him? She looked so glamorous in the photo wearing a beautiful blue designer dress, white shoes and matching handbag. She looked so happy and in love. A thousand questions came flooding through my head. Why had she lived in this tiny one bedroomed cottage in the West of Ireland our whole lives. My mother had to sleep on a mattress on the floor her whole life and my uncle twelve years her junior never had his own room. All this time she had a house on the French island of Corsica? Maybe the house was the one in the picture? None of this made sense. I sat there for several minutes just gazing at the contents of the box, in deep thought.

“Aisling, your uncle is here, bring the bottle of whiskey from under Grans bed like a good girl,” Peggy shouted from the kitchen next door. Shaken out of my daydream I crouched down to the floor and pulled out the box of bottles from under the bed. Selected the full bottle of Powers whiskey and stood up. I stuck the little black book and the photos in my back pocket and headed out the kitchen.

“Hi Uncle Sean" I said as I entered the room, leaving the bottle of whiskey on the kitchen counter. “Hi, love”, replied Sean. “This is Marian” he said, introducing the tall blonde girl next to him who couldn’t have been more than two years older than me. “Hi”, I said dryly and sat down next to my mother beside the open fire. The next two hours passed by slowly with talks of arrangements for the funeral the following day and stories about my grandmother. Through the tears and the laughter about the good times my mind kept wandering to the old show box. “Go get another bottle will you Ash?” asked my uncle. “Have ye not had enough?” I asked. “Don’t be so cheeky and go and get another bottle Aisling”, said my mam. I rolled my eyes and reluctantly went to fetch another bottle. When I returned I heard my mother and uncle discussing how much the funeral was going to cost. “I only have three hundred pounds in my savings Sean, mam left us with nothing. I was going to use that money to help Aisling to get a car when she leaves for nursing school in September.” “Well I could scrounge five hundred pounds together give or take, I could ask the boss to give me an advance this month. He says I’m working well lately so maybe he will feel sorry for me when I tell him what I need it for. Still not enough I know..", said Sean looking down into his glass of whiskey. Then the silence filled the air. I felt the notebook and photos burning in my pocket, pushing me to say something. I slowly stood up and took out the book and photos and laid them on the small table between my mother and I. I interrupted the silence by asking quietly, “Mam, who is Benjamin?” My mother looked up at me with an inquisitive look on her face. “Who are you talking about Aisling?.” She followed my eyes to the book and the photos on the table.