of the woods—the first stuff they play, anyway— jigs and reels and that, and then they go on to the songs from the music halls that everybody knows.’
‘I don’t.’
‘You will when you’ve been here a bit,’ Sylvia put in.
They went past the stilt walkers, still striding effortlessly around the market, and past Jimmy Jesus again, urging the people to repent and then their souls would be as white as the driven snow, washed by the blood of the Lamb. There were a few catcalls from some of the lads and a bit of jeering, but generally people seemed to tolerate the man very well. Carmel was glad, for she thought he had a very gentle voice and manner about him.
By now the accordion players were just setting up in their corner.
Lois said, ‘I don’t know what’s the matter with me, after that tea and everything. I must have worms because I could just murder a baked potato.’ She indicated a little man nearby with an oven shaped not unlike Stephenson’s Rocket, which Carmel had seen pictures of.
‘It’s just because you can smell them,’ Sylvia said. ‘They always smell lovely, I think.’
‘I don’t care what it is,’ Lois said, ‘I am buying one anyway. Anyone else want one, or are you going to let me be the only pig?’
‘Let me buy one for each of you,’ said a male voice suddenly.
Lois swung around. ‘Paul!’ she exclaimed, and gave the man a hug before introducing him to her friends one by one. ‘Sylvia, Jane and Carmel, this is my cousin Paul.’
‘God,’ said Jane in an aside to Sylvia, ‘why haven’t I got cousins like that?’
‘Having them as cousins is no good,’ Sylvia replied, as the man in question and Lois went over to the hot potato man. ‘Did you see that dazzling smile he cast your way, Carmel?’
‘I can’t say I noticed,’ Carmel said.
‘You must be flipping blind then,’ Jane put in. ‘I really don’t know what’s the matter with you.’
‘I’ve told you, I’m not interested in men.’
‘God, Carmel, you must be mad,’ Sylvia protested. ‘I’d be turning somersaults if a man as dishy as that one smiled at me like he did you.’
‘Well, that’s you, isn’t it?’ Carmel retorted. ‘I don’t feel the same, that’s all.’
‘Carmel, we’re not talking of marrying the man, just having a bit of fun, and no harm in that either,’ Sylvia said. ‘After all, none of us can get married for years anyway, if we want to finish our training.’
‘Oh, I don’t know,’ Jane said. ‘It depends on whether a better offer comes along. A man like that wouldn’t have to try very hard to entice me from the charming clutches of Matron.’
The girls laughed but talk about Paul had to cease there, for he and Lois were approaching. Carmel found the potato surprisingly tasty. The music was good too and made her foot tap. The only thing that spoiled it for her was seeing the shambling women, clutching their spoils, children trailing behind them, leaving the market as the hawkers began packing away.
She turned her face resolutely away from the sight and didn’t mention it at all lest the others be irritated by her. They tried to get her to show them a jig or a reel, but she would never show herself up like that and especially not with Paul’s eyes fastened on hers so intently.
By the time the music-hall songs were being played, the hot potatoes were all eaten and everyone was belting out the songs, Paul had somehow arranged it so that he was right next to Carmel. He might as well have been invisible for Carmel took no notice of him at all.
Eventually, in a lull between tunes, he said, ‘I believe you and my illustrious cousin are room-mates?’
Jane, hearing this, gave Sylvia a nudge, she nodded and they moved forward into the crowd, taking Lois with them.
Carmel answered, ‘That’s right.’
‘And this is your first visit to the Bull Ring she said?’
‘Yes.’
‘Well, what do you think of it?’
Carmel shrugged. ‘It’s all right.’
Paul smiled. ‘Just all right?’
‘What d’you want me to say?’ Carmel cried. ‘It’s good. I’ve enjoyed it.’
‘Have you anything like this where you come from?’
‘No, not really.’
‘You hail from Ireland, Lois said?’
‘That’s right?’
‘Which part?’
‘Why do you want to know?’
Paul was nonplussed. He wasn’t used to having this reaction, especially from girls. He shrugged. ‘Just interested.’
‘Why?’ Carmel demanded. ‘You don’t even know me.’
‘Maybe I was trying to get to know you.’
‘I don’t see the purpose of it.’
‘It’s just…it’s what people do, that’s all.’
‘It’s not what this person does,’ Carmel snapped. She looked around frantically for the others, but found herself somehow positioned at the edge of the group with other people in front of her, separating her from her friends. Everyone was singing with gusto about it being a long way to Tipperary.
Paul, though taken aback by Carmel’s response to his innocent questions, was not one for giving up easily, especially with a girl as lovely-looking as Carmel. He thought maybe she was shy and so he drew her away from the group slightly and said, ‘Please don’t be offended. I really meant no harm. It’s just that I am interested in people. It’s partly why I want to be a doctor, I suppose, and with you in the same line of work, as it were, and a room-mate of Lois’s, I just thought it would be nice to get to know you a little better.’
‘So now you know I’m not worth the effort.’
Paul gave a slightly hesitant laugh as he said, ‘Surely, Carmel, I should be the judge of that?’
‘No,’ Carmel said. ‘I should. I really have no wish to talk to you further and I want to rejoin my friends.’
That wasn’t so easy, however, because there was a body of people in front of her that she couldn’t push past and so she stood awkwardly on the edge of the group with Paul beside her. He was wondering how in heaven’s name he could break down this delicious-looking girl’s reserve, but Carmel had many secrets in her past she had no intention of sharing with a virtual stranger.
The musicians finished and began tidying away. Carmel sighed. Now perhaps she could meet up with the others and they could all go home, away from this irritating man and his constant questions, but as she thought this, the strains of a brass band could be heard in the distance and she lifted her head to listen.
‘That’s the Sally Army playing “Jerusalem”,’ Paul told Carmel, seeing her interest.
‘Sally Army?’
‘Salvation Army I mean really,’ Paul said. ‘But you would hardly knew about those either, coming from Ireland. They come here every Saturday evening and collect up all the hungry and destitute, the sort of person you or I would cross the street to avoid, for they are usually none too clean and alive with vermin. The Salvation Army don’t seem to care about that, and they will take these people back to the Citadel, which is what they call their headquarters, and give them hot broth and bread, and try and find the especially vulnerable a bed for the night.’
It happened just as Paul said. From the minute the Salvation Army swung into view, singing