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#Post#: 2839--------------------------------------------------
Safe Forever May My Darling Be
DIR By: Maggie Flannery
Date: December 10, 2013, 5:42 pm
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I'm quite cross with myself over here. I've finished
reading/watching An Awfully Big Adventure (I wanted to compare
them) and the seeds for this were planted. I have to admit I
fell sort of hard for P.L. O'Hara early on before I really knew
where the plot was going and sobbed at the end. (this was
originally supposed to a Caffee piece but that was derailed,
haha) I have to recommend the movie and book just on the basis
of the twists and turns that are in the plot, it's a war time
era Shakespearean tragedy and it's set in Liverpool to boot. ;)
The muses had a field day with it and to have all three muses
working on something in unison is very very rare for me.
HTML http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7318/11287525993_f909dcd18e_z.jpg
HTML http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5530/11287397645_b2297c04f3.jpg
*A/N I've borrowed the lovely and glamorous Lottie from the
amazing Lisa-Marie, and the term The Jarro from Mr. Brendan
O'Carroll but nothing else. I make nothing from these works of
fiction so please if you'd like to post them elsewhere ask me
first.
Summary:
1939 was supposed to be Maggie Donnelly's big year, fresh from
uni and ready to expand young minds in Formby's top grammar
school until she falls in with a rather roguish colleague.
Everything was going along just fine until some power hungry mad
man attacks Poland and causes the second World War. Now, her
world's flipped and the man she's come to love is lost in the
fold; Maggie's headed back home to Dublin, to The Jarro with
quite a bit more than just her traveling bag and a broken heart.
Playlist
HTML http://open.spotify.com/user/highlandfling22/playlist/1eQnQ2gJHDnWOT6pQJ2eJT
Attire:
HTML http://www.polyvore.com/safe_forever_may_my_darling/collection?id=3157933
Cast of Characters
Mrs. Nora Donnelly - The straight talking long widowed matriarch
of the Donnelly family. Anyone in The Jarro knows they can come
to Mother Donnelly or her girls if there's a problem. Widow of
Francis with two girls to raise she resorted to taking in
washing and selling vegetables to make ends meet. She's a very
familiar face within St. Patrick's Church, as are her daughters.
Mrs. Charlotte "Lottie" Flannery - The younger of the Donnelly
girls and the vivacious one. Always dreamed of getting out of
The Jarro and ended up doing just that, until The Emergency
started up and she and her husband ended up moving back, this
time just a door down from Nora and Maggie. Has taken a page
from her older sister's book and is offering piano lessons from
her modest home.
Miss Margaret "Maggie" Donnelly - The elder Donnelly girl and
the quiet one. Once seriously considered joining the Church but
swapped that idea for a life of broadening young minds in tiny
towns by teaching English and Latin. Never was one to really let
her hair down...until she got that job abroad. Has been known to
help Nora with her vegetable stand from time to time has also
taught her little sister how to swing dance.
John Francis "Jackie" Flannery - Husband to the lovely Lottie.
Was besotted with his wife from the moment he laid eyes on her
the first time she stopped into his father's bakery. Times are
tough all over now with The Emergency full tilt, so he's
supplemented his income by picking up a Milkman's route through
The Jarro. No one in their right mind would ever call Jackie
Flannery lazy.
Angus "Gus" Walker - Suitor to the bookish Maggie. A rather
vivacious man whose love of life is just as big as he is. (six
foot one to be exact) has taken a shine to Miss Donnelly and
taught her how to hold her gin as well as the fine art of swing
dancing. During the day he can be found teaching chemistry to
the young minds at Our Lady of the Snows school in Fromby; a far
cry from his native home of Colwyn Bay.
#Post#: 2840--------------------------------------------------
Re: Safe Forever May My Darling Be
DIR By: Wolfy
Date: December 12, 2013, 8:20 am
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Eeep, I am so sorry for not responding to this sooner! I am
really slacking lately. I love where you have this one set and
also love that you mentioned Colwyn Bay, too! it's lovely there.
I have a feeling this is going to be a rather melancholy story,
but hopefully there won't be too much sadness going around with
this war. I love the ladies attire, by the way, very stylish
indeed! :3 and your playlist. I think I fell in love with that
so I'll be downloading each of the tracks on there. Your
character summaries are perfect as well and I cannot wait for
this to begin!
#Post#: 2841--------------------------------------------------
Re: Safe Forever May My Darling Be
DIR By: Maggie Flannery
Date: December 13, 2013, 12:33 pm
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Oh no worries at all my dear! I'm so happy you like where I'm
taking this, I thought it'd be a nice change up from my usual.
I've heard lovely things about Colwyn Bay, I've put it on my
bucket list to visit along with Liverpool, Ireland, and
Scotland. I can tell you that there's going to be a smidge of
melancholy in this story but for the most part it'll be a story
of never ending hope and the will to survive. The clothes were
quite interesting to research and I honestly wouldn't mind
wearing some of them. Aww why thank you! I've had some of the
songs on my ipod for a while and wasn't sure what I could do
with them so they've been put to good use. I was sweating over
those character summaries and I'm so so happy you like them!
:-D I also have to thank you so much for putting up with another
story from me, hopefully this one I can finish. I'm determined
this time.
#Post#: 2843--------------------------------------------------
Re: Safe Forever May My Darling Be
DIR By: Maggie Flannery
Date: December 16, 2013, 8:50 pm
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I'm so sorry for the delay with this but I've been doing some
background research for it. Enjoy my dear! :-D
August 1938 Dublin, The Jarro
A quiet din had settled over the tiny tenement that I called
home, it was just past dawn and all the familiar sounds of home
enveloped me. Today would be my last day here in my childhood
home. I'd been granted a teaching position for the next two
years at the Lady of Our Snows school in Formby, and truth be
told I was terrified. I was almost wishing that I'd taken my
vows and joined The Church as a Sister of the Poor. I stretched
and rolled over onto my stomach to look at the small twin bed
that was pushed against the opposite wall and heaved a sigh. My
younger sister, Lottie had gotten married last January and had
since started her life anew with her husband, Jackie. It seemed
so odd that on my last day here she was nowhere to be found, I
still hadn't gotten used to the idea of her being married and
living her own life. My mother, whom we called Mam or Mammy as
all good Irish children do, no matter how old they are; was
still fast asleep down the hall. It was her one day off from the
vegetable stand she ran down on Moore street and she said she
planned to make good use of it. Although I knew she'd be up once
she heard the tub start to fill. Easing myself out of the bed I
wrapped my robe around myself and grabbed a towel before heading
down the hall. I scurried down the stairs and quickly put the
kettle on before running back upstairs and into the bath.
Hopefully Mammy would take to her usual “Saturday morning
surprise” as she always did and enjoy a nice cup of tea before
checking on me. For some reason she had this almost irrational
fear that Lottie or I would either drown ourselves or end up
going down the bath drain. It seemed just as I got myself
freshly scrubbed and acclimated to the water temperature, which
at this time of day was always the hottest because Mam hadn't
started her washing just yet, there was a rap upon the door that
almost scared me witless.
“Maggie, you alright in there?”
“Aye, Mammy I'm just fine.”
“You've got your towels and enough soap, ye?”
“Aye, got'em right here and soap almost comin' outta my ears.”
“Good good, the water's hot enough, aye?”
“Yep, plenty hot, Mammy. I'm almost as red as a lobster in here.
I'll be out and down in a bit.”
“Alright, I'll have a cuppa waitin' for you in the kitchen along
with your breakfast.
Something light, aye?”
I opened my mouth to protest because I knew what my mother had
in mind for “light breakfast.” It wasn't the normal toast and
tea with jam, it was a regular stick to your bones fry up that
was made with nothing but the best of intentions and lots of
love.
“I'll not be sending you off to that new job of yours on an
empty stomach, young lady. You'll be freshly scrubbed and fed up
when you get there. Who knows when you'll have the chance to
have a decent meal again.”
“Thanks, Mam. I'd be lost without ya, know that, right?”
I heard her soft footsteps fall on the landing and then stop.
“I know, I know. Now, remember to wash behind your ears, love.”
Those words that I'd heard so many times growing up and was sick
of by the time I turned ten seemed a comfort at this very moment
and also a trigger for the tears that I hadn't yet shed. So,
here I sat, waist deep in scolding hot water with my knees drawn
up to my chest quietly sobbing because I was about to leave my
dear mother for the first time in my life.
I was finally able to bring myself together as I pulled the plug
from the bottom of the old enamel claw foot and dry myself with
my usual towel. I scurried down the hall wrapped in my robe and
back into the warmth of my room to change, I'd always had a
horrid habit of forgetting to take a change of clothes with me
when I took my baths, something my Mam and Lottie chided me
about from time to time. When I'd finally settled on one of my
better dresses, a dark A line pin tuck with a spread of tiny
pink and blue flower print scattered about it I took a long hard
look at myself in my dressing table mirror.
“You're a teacher...you're a teacher. You've trained for this,
you've got your certificate you can do this, Margaret Rose
Donnelly.”
I pulled a face at the very thought of the students calling me
Miss Donnelly, I sounded like a spinster school teacher from one
of Lottie's radio dramas. Those poor children probably thought
they were getting some old decrepit white haired witch of a
teacher. Oh, now there's a hair style for me, the bun! I brushed
out my hair and coiled it round and pinned it and examined
myself, it could work just as long as I didn't have to use my
reading glasses any time soon. I simply turned my head and my
hair sprang free of it's pins scattering them every which way.
I left out a groan and sighed as I brushed out my hair again
attempting to tame the mass of loose waves that had spilled out
around my shoulders. The trait of wavy hair thick hair was
something that was shared by Lottie I we'd inherited it from our
dear Mam, although the coloring differed greatly between us.
Charlotte's coloring was just like our father, lovely dark brown
eyes and gloriously glossy dark brown hair, in all of our
combined years I never once saw her burn when we were outside.
I, on the other hand was much like our mother, pale in
complexion large green eyes and flaming red hair that glinted in
the sunlight if it was struck just right. Tears trickled from
my eyes as I hit a particularly nasty snarl, my threshold for
pain was never that immense, yet another thing I'd inherited
from Mam. Once my hair was tangle free and the last of my tears
were shed, at least pain wise, I reverted to braiding my hair
and coiling it into a bun before pinning it in place, sometimes
the tried and true hairstyle is a go to one. I headed downstairs
and wandered into the kitchen to find Mam sitting at the kitchen
table dabbing her eyes with her handkerchief. I could tell that
it was going to be quite an eventful morning.
“You're absolutely sure you're going to be okay living on your
own, Maggie?”
Mam asked me for nearly the hundredth time as I helped her
clear the dishes from breakfast.
“Positively, Mam. If I don't get out on my own I'll never get a
taste of what it's like out there. I'll write you every day and
keep you up to date on all the gossip in town. I'll even be home
during the holiday breaks.”
Mammy looked at me her green eyes misting over again before she
pulled me into a hug.
“Oh I'm sure you will dear. Now, you've got an hour before we
have to get you to the ferry why don't you go say goodbye to
your Da?”
I went about grabbing my sweater and leaving my bags by the
front door and made my way out of the house and down the street
to the outskirts of town. It was a walk I knew and remembered
well. In the cemetery off of Monk's row my father Francis lay in
ever lasting peace. I could always remember him a big burly man
with a beard to match and dancing dark eyes always in a cheery
mood. He had his vices, some we knew about like his drinking
and some we didn't like the late night card games. Even with his
short comings and there were a few ,he never was away from home
more than a few hours and always turned over part of his
paycheck to Mam for “safe keeping.” I can still remember that
day, Lottie and I had come home from school, She must have been
five or so and I was seven and quite excited about my up coming
communion. Lottie and I bounded in to find Mam sitting at the
kitchen table pasty white verging on gray wringing her hands.
“Margaret Rose go and get Father Hennessy.”
She never ever called Lottie or I by our full names unless it
was something dire.
“Why, Mammy?”
“Because...just...just go. He'll be expectin' ya. Take your
sister with you.”
I can remember that knot of fear in the pit of stomach as Lottie
and I trudged up Quinn Lane and over onto Monk's row to the
church of Saint Patrick, a huge stone church that always smelt
of incense and had plush red carpeting down the aisle.
We ventured in both suddenly feeling so very very small in God's
house. We found Father Hennessy there refilling the holy water
and saying a blessing over it. He looked at us with pity and
told us our father was with the lord and much better off. Our
father had been found out back behind Doyle's tavern after one
of the card games had broken up stone cold dead from what
sounded like a heart attack. We were never entirely sure but
given his size and work schedule as a longshoreman it was a very
likely cause. I walked along the neat rows of stones some so
worn that the names were almost illegible others were newly
mounted but most were plain markers with a family name etched
into the stone. I stopped at my father's grave which was at the
end of the row where a rather large shade tree was situated.
“It's Maggie, Da. I just wanted you to know that I've come to
say goodbye. I got that teachin' job in Formby. You remember the
one, the primary school. I'll have a class of twenty Year Threes
to call my own. Don't tell anyone but I'm nervous as anything.
I've already promised Mam and Lottie that I'd be back during
holiday breaks and I'll even stop in and see you. I love you, Da
and please watch over them while I'm not here.”
I leaned forward and touched the cold stone marker and lightly
traced my father's name one last time before heading back home
to meet up with Mam and Lottie.
“You're sure you have everything, Mags? I mean what's one more
day here, right?”
Lottie said nervously as she pulled me into another hug and
nearly knocked the breath out of me. Mam just stood there at the
dock dabbing at her eyes with her hanky.
“I'm positive, Lot don't worry. I know but if I stay here one
more day I might not get the full traveling experience. Besides,
the school term starts up on the fifth of September, my pupils
would think something is out of sorts. Now, you know that I'll
be writing you and Mam daily.”
Lottie nodded before I passed her one of my handkerchiefs which
she accepted with a fresh torrent of tears. I pulled her in for
a tight hug and then went over to Mam and hugged her a third
time. I tried to calm myself the best I could before I reached
into my coat pocket and pulled out two envelopes, one for each
of them. They hadn't a clue that I'd scrimped and saved for the
last two years to put together a going away gift for each of
them. I'd worked nights cleaning offices and Saturdays tutoring
and taking in mending for a few of the wealthy residents on the
South side of Dublin.
“Lottie, I know that you and Jackie had to sell that table when
you moved back to the Jarro so..here's something to help you
make a fresh start of things. Mr. Avery's expecting you and
Jackie some time this week to stop by and have your pick of new
table sets. Mam I know you've been eyeing that new coat down at
Woolworth's so why not treat yourself? Oh, and both your rents
are paid up to January. ”
Lottie looked into the envelope and stood there mouth agape for
a moment before pulling me into another hug while Mammy let out
a wail to rival a banshee.
“Maggie...no...this is too much.”
“No, it's not. It's mine to give and yours to take. What could I
possibly do with that much? I've got my own little cottage down
the lane from it and the larder's stocked free of charge.
Everything's furnished so I've got no worries. I want you two to
be taken care of while I'm not here.”
Before I knew large tears rolled down my cheeks and my own voice
was foggy with emotion.
“I know Jackie and his Da are having a hard go at the bakery and
the vegetable stand isn't paying what it used to so I
just...thought you all need it more than I do so that's why I'll
be sending you both part of my paycheck every month. No
arguments.”
A final call for Holyhead was made and I swept them both into
hugs one last time before boarding with the other passengers. I
scrambled to an open spot the deck and waved to them until they
were just dots on the dock at the shores of Dublin Bay. From my
vantage point I just make out the Bull Wall and Dollymount
Strand. I can remember Da telling me when I was a child that the
rivers Liffey, Dodder, and Tolka all came together at some
invisible point and ran into the vast Irish sea; a Holy Trinity
of the waters if you will. It seemed endless and steely gray now
so vast and wide that it almost scared me. I was truly alone and
more than scared, I was terrified. The first Donnelly to go and
strike it out on their own away from The Jarro. Well, if I was
truly alone now then I could shed those tears I had been able to
let go of in front of Mam and Lottie. It was another two hours
until I got to Holyhead I'd either cry myself out or make the
Irish sea even deeper.
#Post#: 2844--------------------------------------------------
Re: Safe Forever May My Darling Be
DIR By: Maggie Flannery
Date: December 16, 2013, 8:55 pm
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*a quick link to what I've come to think of as Maggie's cottage
just to set the scene.
HTML http://www.thelovedhomeblog.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/06/small-brick-cottage1.jpg*<br
/>
Our Weary Traveler Arrives...Almost
Two hours later I found myself cried out and on a train toward
Colwyn Bay, a place so pretty it reminded me of home. From there
it was another two hour ride to Liverpool and then another
thirty minutes of travel to get to the Formby station where I
was met at three thirty-five on the dot by a short chubby man in
an ill fitting twill jacket and a rather interesting comb over
who was the head master, Mr. Barrows.
“Wonderful to see you Miss Donnelly! I trust you traveled well?”
I smiled as I passed him my satchel and suitcase and nodded.
“Indeed I did, Mr. Barrows.”
Inwardly I cringed I hadn't traveled well at all but I wasn't
about to tell my new employer that, after all his higher ups had
paid my way.
“My, I must admit you've a lovely lyrical way of speaking. Not
like some of the Irish that we've employed in the past. You're
from the North aren't you?”
As what? Janitorial and kitchen staff? Don't say aye, don't say
aye. Do. Not. Say. It.
I all but screamed at myself as I watched Mr. Barrows struggle
with my bags, he certainly wasn't the strong type was he?
“Ay...yes. Yes I am, Sir. Dublin.”
“Oh lovely! Lets just hope you don't form a faculty revolt
against us, eh?.”
I gave him a weak smile as he gently nudged me in the ribs. I
bit my tongue at that cheeky remark and followed him out to the
awaiting car that was to take us to my new “home”. I could see
I'd have to have myself in check around Mr. Barrows. Although I
couldn't blame him, he was just different in his thinking of the
Irish. The drive which was supposedly a short one turned out to
be a twenty-five minute one. In which time I was regaled with
stories of Barrows' youth, the history of the school, and the
backgrounds of my colleagues.
“We've a man from Colwyn Bay, a Mr. Walker who you'll be working
closely with. With enrollment down you'll be sharing classes.
You'll have your Year Threes in the morning and then switch with
him for the Year Fours in the afternoon after lunch. He doesn't
teach Latin and since you're versed in it I thought it would be
worth while to split the classes that way each elder grade gets
a rounded education.”
“Oh wonderful. What does Mr. Walker teach?”
Barrows took out a rather expensive looking handkerchief and
swiped at his little round spectacles before replying.
“The Sciences and Maths. He's introduced the children to entry
level chemistry and gotten them to master their tables in record
time. For a Welshman he's very well read and quite friendly.
He's also well versed in quite a few different plays which is
why he's been chosen to over see this year's Christmas pageant
along with you of course.”
This man was insane, two groups of mixed age children in a
Christmas pageant? Utter madness.
“Oh, lovely.”
“Ahh, I thought so as well, Miss Donnelly. Here we are, the
second teacher's cottage. You're right next door to Mr. Walker
actually. He must be out at the moment, the man's quite the busy
fellow.”
I was soon left on my own to gather my bags and unlock the front
door to my new home. A rather small brick cottage that had it's
own tidy little garden patch off to the right and regular indoor
plumbing, unlike some of the teacher's cottages I'd heard of.
Soon enough I was settled and going about tidying up the stray
cobwebs and dusting a few of the latticed windows and found that
it was downright homey when I'd unpacked my assorted brick-a-bac
and family photos. I noticed that over in the tiny kitchen area
there were a few boxes marked “china” and decided to have a look
for myself. Much to my surprise I found a mismatched set of well
loved jumble sale china, utensils, and an old tea kettle
complete with a welcome note and a list of colleagues that
either lived in town or down the lane to get hold of it if I
were to ever need help with anything. I smiled at the lovely
sentiment and found a familiar name amongst the signatures. It
seemed Gus Walker was part of the official welcoming committee.
Amidst my mismatched china and furniture I felt oddly at ease
for a brief moment well, until I looked over at the framed photo
of Lottie's wedding day. Mam, Lottie, and Jack looked back at me
with smiles and I felt my heart break. I was two hundred and
ninety-nine kilometers away from home and so utterly alone. I
looked out the window across the lane and saw that the sky had
changed to a magnificent sunset. Even the sunset seemed so
foreign to me but perhaps in time I'd get used to this new life
I'd carved out for myself.
#Post#: 2845--------------------------------------------------
Re: Safe Forever May My Darling Be
DIR By: Wolfy
Date: December 19, 2013, 12:18 pm
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I am so very sorry this has taken me so long to respond to! I've
had a busy few days, up and down every five minutes so I can't
catch a break to sit and read unfortunately, aha. All is in
working order now, though. I love both updates, so very much.
I'm really loving how everything is so descriptive! it helps me
imagine scenary and emotions. I started getting upset when
Maggie went to visit her father and when she said her goodbyes
to her mother and Lottie. I also love the look of her new home!
what an adorable lil cottage. I can't wait for her to meet Mr
Walker ;) impatiently awaiting the next update :D
#Post#: 2846--------------------------------------------------
Re: Safe Forever May My Darling Be
DIR By: Maggie Flannery
Date: December 19, 2013, 5:30 pm
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No worries at all my dear! I know exactly how you feel, I've
been beside myself these past two weeks tidying up loose ends
and get last minute things done. Aww why thank you so so much! I
thought I went a little overboard with the descriptions but I'm
so glad you liked them! I felt so bad for poor Maggie when she
was leaving that I actually started to tear up while writing it.
I do have to admit that I quite like that little cottage,
wouldn't mind to call my own. :) I'm working away on an update
for you. Thank you so so much for the lovely review my dear, you
make the writing possible!
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