A Pancake And A Cup Of Tea

A Pancake And A Cup Of Tea

April 1988

WELCOME PATRONS TO LA CAF? BURRISAKENNY!

We hope you enjoy your visit here to our recently opened establishment.
Our menu is entirely in French. If you encounter any difficulty reading
it please don't hesitate to ask our Head Waitress Gertrude McNamara,
who got top marks in the local Leaving Certificate examination in the
French Language two year ago, for assistance. If Gertrude is not
available ask Ita O'Malley, also a French speaker and yet another top
scholar from the highly esteemed Loreto Convent school here in
Burrisakenny.

May you return to our sophisticated and continental establishment many
times in the future.

Bon App?tit!

Damien McMahon
The Proprietor

'Gertrude McNamara! I wouldn't ask that one for the flu never mind ask
for help with this poncey menu,' exclaimed Dolores Hennessey, having
just read this notice pinned to the menu in the lit brass showcase near
the entrance to the newly opened caf?.

Standing next to her was her classmate from school, the rotund, flame
haired and rosy cheeked Bridget O'Hare. Looking askance at the menu,
they both giggled as they tried to find the prices next to the listed
items.

Bridget's comprehension of the French menu was limited, but Dolores at
a glance, recognised most of the fare for the afternoon as fruit
doughnuts, cream cakes, waffles and pancakes. She kept her translation
to herself.

'Shall we go in Bridget? It's getting fierce wet and cold out here. I'd
love a hot drink and something to eat. Wouldn't you?'

'But Dolores, do you think we can afford it? He doesn't show the
prices. I'd say it's very dear in there, wouldn't you?'

'Come on in for the laugh! I'm dying to see what the craic is like this
place.'

The two waitresses employed by Mr McMahon did not greet the school
girls instantly as they entered the caf?, perhaps seeing the fresh
custom as more of a bother than a blessing.

With a degree of consideration the school girls decided to sit in a
crescent shaped red velvet booth not far from the main entrance - it
looked cosy and was close to a central heating vent.

Ita, wearing granny spectacles, came over first and in a quiet nervous
voice said 'Bonjour girls!'. She presented red vinyl menus to the two
and only customers who had entered the premises that day before
hurrying back to her station.

'I'm not top of the class in French,' said Dolores to Bridget, 'but I
can find my way around this menu without the help of those two over
there I can tell you! And did you see that bit in the notice outside
about this place being "continental and sophisticated"? He's full of
himself that Damien McMahon. Isn't he? Oh winning the Lottery there
last year has certainly gone straight to his head so it has.'

'Oh a gobshite,' reported Bridget as she squinted at the text in the
menu. Dolores, confident with her knowledge of the menu, looked around
curiously at her surroundings and inhaled the aromas of brewed coffee
and freshly baked bread coming from the kitchen that was adjoined to
Mr. McMahon's sister establishment La Boulangerie Burrisakenny
next-door.

Bridget continued to squint at the menu and having felt somewhat
frustrated up to this point with her lack of comprehension was pleased
to discover a word that didn't befuddle her. Cr?pe. After years of
doodling and day dreaming during French lessons, to her relief she
remembered what a cr?pe was.

"Thanks be to Jesus," she thought to herself, 'I won't have to ask
Dolores or those two stiffs over there for help with this foreign menu.
No one is going to make an eejit out of me in a place like this."

'Do you know what?' said Dolores. 'There's one question playing on my
mind since I read the notice outside. What are the two of the top
scholars in this town, the cr?me de la cr?me of the Loreto, what are
they doing washing the cups in this fancy tea shop?'

Bridget paused for a moment then winked. 'Well Dolores, as my father
always says, it takes a lot of scholarship to become a skivvie in this
country so it does.'

'It's true for him! I can't wait to get out of this hole of a place. If
there are no opportunities here in this town for those two over there,
then there is sod all here for you&;#8230;or me for that
matter.'

'Where are you planning to go?' asked Bridget glancing at the menu
again, and characteristically avoiding eye contact when asking people
direct questions.

'Well Mam and Dad are hoping I get a cushy number with the Inland
Revenue up in the 'Big Smoke' in Dublin. Of course that depends on how
I do in June. Anyway frig the feckin Leaving Cert! I have other plans I
can tell you!'

Waiting to resume eye contact with her distracted neighbour, Dolores in
a conspiratorial tone she lowered the volume of her voice to a
whisper.

'As soon as the exams are out of the way in June, I'm withdrawing a
lifetime's savings from the Post Office and I'm going to skid addle off
to France! Sure there's no guarantee I'll get a job with the tax office
with such fierce competition - and I don't want to be clipping the
hedges for the Government here in this town either I can tell you!
There's loads of things I want to see in Paris not to mention the Mona
Lisa in the Louvre. Do you want to escape to France with me
Bridget?'

Bridget considered the invitation for a moment before putting down the
menu.

'The Mona Lisa! Feck the Mona Lisa. I'm not into that arty malarkey and
traipsing around galleries and the like. Anyway my French isn't too
hot, as you well know. You're asking the wrong one Dolly. It's Pinkie
and Perky over there you should be asking. Not me!'

'Well perish the thought Biddy. I wouldn't dream of asking one or other
of those two to go with me to France, no matter how smooth they are
with the lingo. A corpse in a coffin would be more company to me on the
boat to Cherbourg than the two of them together I can tell you!'

'Bonjour mademoiselles! Comment allez vous? Que d?sirez vous?' said a
frosty disembodied voice from nowhere.

'Ah Gertrude! How are you? I didn't see you there,' said Dolores, her
face scarlet with embarrassment. 'Er. Emmh. Let's see now. I'll have a
frothy coffee and a croque-monsieur please.'

'In case you didn't notice Dolores, this is an authentic French
establishment not an Italian one. We don't serve cappuccino or as you
say 'frothy coffee' in here. Can you not read the menu? How about a
large coffee with milk? Or as we say in French, un grand cr?me.'

'That'll be fine. And the croque-monsieur as well. Thanks Gertrude.'
Dolores somewhat cowed, nervouslyhanded back the menu to the
condescending waitress.

'Would you like to repeat your order in French? You want to get a good
mark in the oral next month don't you?'

'Yeah. Sure. OK. Er. Emmh! Je voudrais un cappucin&;#8230;sorry,
I'll start again Gertrude. Je voudrais un grand cr?me et un croque
monsieur, s'il vous plait. And by the way,' she paused for a moment,
'aussi, est-ce que nous pourrions avoir de l'eau s'il vous plait?'
Asking for water as an afterthought so as to make an impression on the
linguistically accomplished hired help.

'Certainement. Tr?s bien,' said Gertrude as she jotted down the order.
'Well done Dolores. Seven out of ten for that - you lost two marks for
hesitation and one for confusion. A bit more practice wouldn't do you
any harm now.'

Gertrude, whilst not saluting the girls on entering the premises, was
by now in a more congenial mood, and went on to comment on the 'awful
weather' outside before going on to mention Mr McMahon's future plans
for Burrisakenny.

'It's Damien's mission in life, since winning the National Lottery last
year, to bring cosmopolitan sophistication to the provincial
philistines living in this remote part of the country.'

'Jeez he's got his work cut out, hasn't he?' said Bridget.

'His work cut out?' asked Gertrude, whilst rolling her eyes up to the
ceiling. 'He certainly has Bridget. He certainly has. So what will you
be having?'

'Er. Emmh Gertrude, let's see now,' she opened the menu clumsily and
tried to look au fait with its entire contents, and yet felt somewhat
unsettled by the Head Waitress's easy authority.

'Oh there's a fine selection here isn't there? Er. Emmh. Sorry I'll
just have a pancake and a cup of tea thanks.'

'Would you like a conserve on your cr?pe?'

'Sure! That sounds lovely whatever it is.' Bridget giggled.

'It's jam Bridget. Homemade jam!'

'Oh right. That's fine. I'll have that then.'

'D'accord. Un cr?pe ? la confiture et un th?,' garbled Gertrude quickly
in a low volume.

'Is that it?'

'Yep, that'll be all thanks.'

Bridget handed the menu back to the Head Waitress.

'Bridget would you like to repeat your order in French? You're doing
the French oral as well with Dolores in a few weeks time aren't you?
I'm sure you want a high mark too! I'll help you out if you get
stuck.'

'Ah Gertrude thanks anyway, but if you don't' mind, I had double French
this morning. You know the feeling.'

'And pray tell Bridget what feeling is that?'

Bridget took a deep breath. 'The feeling of having had too much French
for one day thank you very much! All I want is a pancake and a cup of
tea! Is that alright with you?' Bridget's cheeks were a few shades
rosier than usual.

'Tr?s bien Bridget. Keep your hair on. I'm only trying to help you out
with your exams. Do you want strawberry, blackberry or raspberry
conserve on your cr?pe? Or alternatively a little drizzle of maple
syrup maybe?'

'Aggh whatever! I don't mind what you put on it as long as it's sweet
and tasty.'

'Uhh! No marks out of ten for you Bridget O'Hare!' admonished Gertrude
in school marm tones, as she scribbled the short but protracted order
into her rarely used billing pad before swanning off back to her
station.

'Jeez Bridget! You were a bit hot under the collar there weren't you?
Are you alright?' enquired Dolores sympathetically.

'I'm fine. It's just&;#8230;you know coming in here it's like being
in school, isn't it? Isn't it a fright you have to ask for a cup of tea
in your home town in a foreign language! Did you ever see the like of
it? No other country in the world&;#8230;'

Bridget pondered for a moment as she excavated the sugar bowl once
again with the teaspoon inside.

'It's true for you Dolores! This bog hole of a town! Sure I can't wait
to get out of this place either. There's no life here at all for me, so
there isn't.'

There was a silence briefly as Bridget continued to dally with the
brown sugar crystals, whilst Dolores with her elbow on the table, right
palm under her chin stared in reverie out into the middle
distance.

'So what kind of life do you want if it's not gallivanting around Paris
with the likes of me?'

'Well you know my Aunty Maureen has a great life out in Chicago. She's
a Head Nurse at a hospital overlooking Lake Michigan. Well anyway, she
told me not to worry about the exams in June when she telephoned over
the Easter. She said as long as I'm prepared to roll up the sleeves and
do a hard day's work she'll fix me up as junior nurse on one of the
wards at the hospital. Leaving Cert or no Leaving Cert!'

'Sure that's great news Bridget! You've kept that under your hat all
along. What about visa and a work permit?'

'Well I can apply for a student visa while I'm still at school, and if
I want to stay out a little longer she might sponsor me out there.
Anyway I'm not bothered about minor details like that I can tell you.
Nothing or no one is going to stop me from moving to the Windy City!'
she said pushing the sleeves of her v-neck maroon sweater up to her
elbows, irritated noticeably by the question.

'But Bridget, your Aunty Maureen's lifestyle - the high wages, the fast
cars and the big houses - The American way - sure that's very
materialistic, isn't it?' said Dolores as she removed her tie and
placed it in her blazer pocket; finding it almost a ligature on this
late Friday afternoon.

'Listen to yourself Dolly! What's wrong with having loads of money and
lots of nice things? It's better than visiting the labour exchange once
a fortnight to sign your autograph, or like you wandering around Paris
with your head in the clouds without a button to your name!'

At that moment, Ita appeared from nowhere and nervously placed a jug of
water and two glasses on the table. Eavesdropping, she picked up the
'you wandering around Paris&;#8230;' part of the conversation. Then
disappearing phantom like, she dutifully reported this choice morsel of
news back to Gertrude who was warming the croque-monsieur under the
grill. The Head Waitress was intrigued to hear that Dolores could be
ending up in Paris at some time or other.

'I can work as an au pair over there or flip hamburgers near the Eiffel
Towner,' replied Dolores with indignation before pouring water into the
glasses. 'In any case, money isn't everything you know Bridget. There's
loads of things you can enjoy in life without pots of spondulicks. What
about a walk in the park on a sunny afternoon, or a trip to a museum on
a rainy day, or a picnic in the park on a Summer's&;#8230;'

'Ah get out of it Dolores! Do you know what you are? You're a dreamer!
Watch out girl you'll turn into a sleeper, and you'll never wake
up.'

'Oh you're very funny Biddy, aren't you! You've got all the answers so
you have. Don't you?'

A moments later Gertrude returned with a full tray to their table. The
patrons smiled courteously at the Head Waitress, not betraying for one
moment the discord that was brooding beneath the surface of their
civility.

'Bon app?tit Mademoiselles. Enjoy girls!' said Gertrude after placing
the ordered items neatly on the table.

'Merci beaucoup Gertrude!' said Dolores obsequiously.

'Thanks a million,' said Bridget as the Head Waitress picked up the
tray and returned to her station.

The school girls said little while they consumed their Friday afternoon
treat.

At 4:45pm, Ita turned the 'Closed' sign out towards the main street of
Burrisakenny, and quietly put the latch on the entrance door. She then
went straight over to the booth, where the only customers for the
afternoon were seated, and with a tray cleared their table. 'We're
closing at five girls. Would you like a refill of tea and coffee before
you go? You won't have to pay for it. Gertrude said it's on the
house!'

Blushing a little with surprise and discomfiture, Dolores glanced
quickly at Bridget before saying, 'Sure why not! That would be lovely.
Thanks Ita!'

After Ita returned to the kitchen, Bridget and Dolores agreed it would
be ungracious to decline Gertrude's unexpected gesture of
hospitality.

When the wall clock gonged at five, Ita had just pulled down the last
remaining blind over the door. At that moment, Gertrude emerged from
the kitchen with a tray full to capacity. On the tray was tableware; a
piping hot caf? tierre; a small pot of tea for Bridget; and a large
plate holding an a assortment of ?clairs, cream cakes and Danish
pastries. She manoeuvred carefully over to where the school girls were
sitting.

As beforehand, she laid out everything from the tray neatly onto the
table. Wary of Bridget, she instinctively sat next to Dolores, who had
moved over a bit on the sofa to make room. In turn, Ita brought the
tallied bill for the previous fare over to the table and faced it down
into a small silver tip plate in front of Dolores. Through circumstance
rather than circumspection, Ita had to sit next to a rather vexed
Bridget O'Hare. The current students of the Loreto Convent school felt
unsettled by such a turn of events.

Ita got up again, and remaining on duty for just a few moments longer,
began to the pour the tea and coffee. She then brought over extra
cutlery and napkins as requested by Gertrude, before returning to her
place next to a po-faced Bridget.

Gertrude, a paragon of self-assurance, then got up to remove her white
apron. Then removing her frilled cap and hair clips she sensibly turned
away from the table, bent over and shook her long raven hair about in
true 'heavy metal' rock music fashion, before vigorously pulling a comb
through the long black mop. Standing up, she turned around and
inspected a few strands of hair under her nose before passing a rather
frivolous remark.

'Its a bit lank and greasy. But I'm washing it tonight anyway.'

Returning to her place next to Dolores she felt more relaxed now that
her uniform was no longer intact. Unbuttoning the collar and sleeves of
her tight black frock, she rolled the up the sleeves to reveal a
striking tattoo on the soft fleshy part of her upper left arm, just
above the elbow.

The skin picture showed two elegant Victorian pistols diagonally
pointing in opposite directions and entwined with vividly drawn crimson
roses. Underneath this pictorial irony, the words 'Appetite For
Destruction' had been needled in gothic black lettering into her pale
virginal skin.

Dolores and Bridget looked aghast.

Having acquired consent from her dining companions, Gertrude then took
out a tobacco pouch and began to expertly roll a cigarette with Rizla
papers. As she lit the roll-up and inhaled, Dolores glancing downwards
noticed that Gertrude had chipped black varnish on her nails, and had
been wearing laddered black ribbed tights and black Doctor Martin boots
with red laces all along. And she and Bridget, otherwise engaged in a
somewhat heated discussion about their future didn't notice once.

"Doctor Martin boots, black nail polish and a Guns N Roses tattoo!
Crikey what's going on there? All that book work and scholarship must
have driven the poor girl to wild abandon," thought Dolores to herself
as she pondered over Gertrude's off-duty appearance.

In contrast with Gertrude, Ita slight in name and figure, sat erect and
timidly next to her rotund neighbour; feeling some discomfort in this
contrived social situation. Blushing, she self consciously removed her
frilled cap. Feeling the stare of six eyes upon her, she nervously
unbuttoned the top two buttons of her black frock. With some struggle
she gradually began to unwind. Just a little bit.

As they dined, the girls exchanged small talk about Mr. McMahon's
recently opened Caf? and Boulangerie, with Gertrude explaining his ever
ambitious plans for Burrisakenny with an air of unrestrained
excitement.

'Oh yeah! He wants to build an art house cinema just off the square
there. You know down there across the road from Fogarty's garage where
the creamery use to be? I think it's fantastic news! Film lovers here
in Burrisakenny will have the opportunity to see rarely seen foreign
language films right here in the middle of nowhere. And do you know
what?' she said bright eyed and passionate. 'I think its about time too
that the small minded folks in this town were exposed to the ground
breaking films from the Nouvelle Vague period! Don't you girls?'

Dolores, Bridget and Ita, looked at garrulous Gertrude in a synchronous
gaze of utter bewilderment, not entirely certain what she was talking
about, but nodding in agreement nonetheless for fear of her
reproach.

'To be sure Gertrude. To be sure,' piped up Dolores safely.

Sensing swiftly that the conversation between the four of them wasn't
going in any particular direction, Gertrude turned to Dolores and
quietly complimented her on her respectable command of French.

Dolores blushed. 'Thanks Gertrude. That's certainly a compliment coming
from you!'
At this juncture, the foursome split into pairs for the remainder of
what was now turning into an informal soir?e.

'I don't know if you know this Dolores,' Gertrude intimated, 'but I won
a scholarship to the Sorbonne two years ago to study Politics and
Modern Languages, but I wasn't fit enough financially to move to Paris
straight away as the scholarship only covers tuition fees. As you've
probably gathered by now, I'm a died in the wool Francophile. France!
I'm stone mad about the place.'

Under her bushy black eyebrows, her hazel eyes lit up as she expounded
ardently on the delights of Gallic culture. 'The poetry of Rimbaud and
Baudelaire! The novels of Flaubert, Zola and Mauriac! The films of
Godard, Truffaut and Bresson! The plays of Moli?re and Genet! Good god!
The music of Maurice Chevalier, Edith Piaf and Sasha Distel. Oh stop, I
could go on and on and on.'

With animated hand gestures she gushed further, 'The food&;#8230;the
wine&;#8230;the coffee&;#8230;the philosophy. Oh it's an
exoooberant culture! I can't get enough of the place, so I
can't.'

Having got Dolores's complete and undivided attention she elaborated
further.

'I was out in Strasbourg for about eight months last year, and I had
such a whale of a time, I didn't save three feckin' francs for the
whole time I was working out there! So the Sorbonne scholarship was put
on ice more or less. Anyway Damien pays a good wage here, so I hoping
to have a big wad of moola saved by July. You can never go to Paris a
moment too soon,' she said trying to sound worldly and carefree.

Dolores immediately entranced by Gertrude's euphoric soliloquy to all
things pertaining to France and its 'exuberant culture', began to feel
pangs of excitement in her throbbing breast.

'Did you say this July Gertrude?' said Dolores almost listless at this
stage.

'Yes Dolores, this July the year of Our Lord nineteen eighty
eight.'

'Crikey that's a coincidence! I was planning to go to France over the
Summer too, but I haven't told my parents yet and I wasn't too sure
about going over there all on my own.'

'Go away!' said Gertrude pretending to gag on the coffee she had just
sipped - deceptively looking surprised and delighted in turn on hearing
such second hand news.

Then Dolores, still facing Gertrude, gave Bridget a nod and a glance
from the corner of her eye and said, 'Your one here isn't as keen on
France as I am, as you found out earlier on. So I'll probably be going
over there all on my own. Will you be going solo too?'

'I always travel on my own Dolores. But you're more than welcome to
come with me if you so wish! I could probably do with some company this
time round. Anyway, in total I've only spent about three days in Paris
myself, so it will be a marvellous big adventure for the both of us'
stated Gertrude affirmatively as if her invitation had been fully
accepted.

On the other side of the booth, Ita and Bridget started their
conversation on a more mundane note. After mentioning the 'awful
weather' yet again, they both referred, in uninspired tones, to the
jumble sale for Helped The Age in the community hall on Saturday
afternoon. More to flesh out the sparse chit chat than out of any
declared mutual interest.

Then Ita quietly asked Bridget what her plans were after she left
school in June.

'Well&;#8230;emmh. I'm probably going out to Chicago to visit my
Aunty Maureen in July, and if I like it out there I might stay on for
awhile. You know. See what happens,' said Bridget.

'Chicago!' shrieked mousy Ita. 'Jeez that's a coincidence, my brother
Eddie went out there with a gang two years ago. He works on the
building sites in the centre, and he just loves it out there! He's has
no intention of coming back here to this place whatsoever.'

'Ah go away! And have you any plans to go out there and join him?'
enquired Bridget casually.

'Well that's why I'm working here. Next month I'll be passing through
Chicago to see Eddie, on my way to Pasadena, California. My Uncle Tommy
owns an auto repair garage out there, and he's taking me on as an
apprentice motor mechanic. I don't have to worry about visas and the
like, because he's going to sponsor me out there for at least a year
anyway,' she said before adding unnecessarily: 'Eddie got the chance
too, but he's not as keen on the motors as I am!'

Bridget was flabbergasted.

'You!' she said frowning with disbelief. 'You're going off to Pasadena,
California to become a motor mechanic? Well blow me down. For the life
of me I never knew that!'

'Of course you didn't know that!' snapped Ita. 'You're the first person
around here I've told. And I don't want it to go outside these four
walls either. I'm the kind of person who just goes about my business
quietly and then talks about it afterwards if I so please. Do ya know
what I mean Bridget?'

'I know exactly what you mean Ita. Jesus you're a mysterious girl so
you are! I've seen you drive around in your brown Ford Cortina, but you
know I&;#8230;I didn't think you were the mechanical type myself now
I'd have to say.'

Ita leered over her granny spectacles and smiled sedately at Bridget,
betraying just a trace of smugness at that very moment.

At 7pm, Damien who had been tied up with the very busy La Boulangerie
Burrisakenny next door for the best part of the day, entered the caf?
in order to 'cash up' for the evening. Taking her queue, Dolores
quickly settled the bill with Gertrude for the fare ordered previously
and kindly left a tip for the 'soign?e soubrettes'. The four women
hastily swapped contact details and made tentative plans to meet up
again in future before bidding farewell to one another.

Dolores and Bridget on leaving the premises enchanted and in good
spirits, exchanged a few words about the serendipitous afternoon they
had spent in the new French caf?.

'Adieu Bridget. Have a lovely weekend!'

'You too Dolores. Don't study too hard now! See you Monday. Bye.'

*******************

For the rest of the Spring term, Dolores and Bridget continued to sit
beside each other during school lessons.

Yet, the nature of their friendship had changed irrevocably since that
impromptu soir?e
with Gertrude and Ita at La Caf? Burrisakenny back in April.

That long anticipated day in June, when they would leave the Loreto
Convent school for good, would be the last time they would ever see
each other again.