Strange Sally Diamond

‘I wouldn’t bother going to school if I were you,’ I said. ‘Waste of time.’

The mother was outside putting the boy’s bicycle into the boot of her car. She did not approach the doorway but she was craning her neck to see me. I stood back behind the door, out of sight. She was a white lady. I heard her shouting at the children, ‘Hurry up! Get out of here! Wait until I get you home!’

I played Mum’s game of trying to imagine what she thought of me and I realized that she must be scared. Maybe a lot of people were scared of me. Except perhaps those two children. I liked them. Maduka and Abebi. I forgot to ask Abebi what age she was. I wanted to know. I wanted to know what house they lived in and what TV shows they watched and if their dad was nice like mine.

10

The next day, early, there was a knock on the door. It was Angela. Her eyebrows were furrowed and her lips were thin. This meant she was annoyed.

‘Sally! What were you thinking? You can’t take strange children into your house!’

‘I did not invite them. They trespassed. I treated one of them for concussion and I gave them chocolate biscuits.’

‘You told them not to go to school!’

‘I liked them.’

‘Yes, well, it took me a while to calm down their mother and explain your situation. Sally, please, try to think about the consequences of your words and actions, especially with children. I’m a full-time GP. I had to get a locum in last week while I dealt with your crisis.’

‘What crisis?’

Her face was red, but then she cracked a smile and then laughed out loud. ‘Sally, you are a crisis. You don’t mean to be, but if you have doubts about anything, you must ask me, okay?’

‘But I don’t have doubts about anything.’

‘That’s what I’m afraid of. Mrs Adebayo understands everything now, but all she had heard were the rumours that you’d killed your dad. I talked her around and, luckily, the children did say you were nice to them.’

‘The white boys broke my window.’

I showed Angela the damage and asked her to call a glazier.

‘Sally, I know it’s hard for you, but you are going to have to learn to do things for yourself. Like calling a glazier. Oh God, you don’t have a smartphone, do you? Or a laptop. But you know how to look up the Golden Pages? You still have one, don’t you? I saw it on the hall table.’

I nodded.

‘Well, find one that’s local to here and ask them to come out and fix it.’

I started to pace the room.

‘Sally, I know your dad meant well, but he was overprotective. You should have gone to college. Jean was right.’ Jean was my mother’s name. She and Dad had argued over whether I should go to university. Dad won.

‘I don’t like talking to strangers.’

‘Well, you brought two strangers into your house yesterday, and you had no problem talking to them. Did you invite them to your dad’s funeral?’

‘Yes.’

‘Why? They are children.’

‘I liked them.’

‘Well, there you go. So you don’t dislike all strangers.’

I hadn’t thought of it like that.

‘So, find a glazier in Roscommon and ask them to come out and fix the window, okay?’

‘But what if he’s mean, or if he attacks me, or if he’s one of those that thinks I killed my dad?’

‘Most people know the truth, and the ones that don’t are, well …’

‘They’re scared of me?’

‘I’d say the glazier will come out, fix the window and get out as soon as he can.’

‘So I won’t have to make him a cup of tea?’

‘You won’t have to do anything except pay him.’

‘In cash?’

‘Yes, he’ll probably prefer that. Look, I have to go. I’ll be late for work. Ring me only if there are any problems. Put your phone back on the hook, so that I don’t have to keep coming out to the house. I’ll see you on Tuesday at the funeral, but I am busy.’

I knew I should say sorry. ‘Sorry, Angela.’

‘Fortunately, you’re yesterday’s news. The media circus has moved on. A county councillor has been accused of taking six million euro in bribes and a man in Knockcroghery murdered his best friend yesterday. I have to go. Bye!’ And she left, leaving a whiff of antiseptic after her. I liked that smell. She was always clean.

As she was getting into the car, she called out, ‘Oh, and we’ll have to do something about Christmas. You’ll come to us.’

The initial phone call to the glazier was not as difficult as I imagined. I practised a few times before I lifted the phone. The directions to the house were the most difficult part. There would be a call-out fee of €80 since I lived so far out of Roscommon and then I’d have to pay for the glass and the time spent to fit it, and I would have to measure the window and call them back. The woman’s voice was pleasant and foreign, though I couldn’t place it.

I measured the window and called the lady back. This time, her attitude was different, and because I couldn’t see her face, I could not tell her mood. She verified my name and the address again, and then asked if I was the daughter of Thomas Diamond.

‘Yes,’ I answered.

‘Fine,’ she said. ‘Alex will be there in the morning about ten a.m.’