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to help her.
None of them could help her. She had lost all of them. They would not find out about this; she would not put it into a letter. And because of this she understood that they would never know her now. Maybe, she thought, they had never known her, any of them, because if they had, then they would have had to realize what this would be like for her.
She lay there as the light of day began; she did not think she would be able to manage another night like this. For a while she was quietly resigned to the prospect that nothing would change, but she did not know what the consequences would be, or what form they would take. Once more, she got up early and left the house without making a sound and walked the streets for an hour before going to have a cup of coffee. She noticed the cold in the air for the first time; it seemed to her that the weather had changed. But it hardly mattered now what the weather was like. She found a place in a diner where she could have her back to everybody, and no one could comment on the expression on her face.
By the time she drank the coffee and had a bun and managed to get the waitress’s attention to pay the bill, she realized that she had left herself too short a time to get to work. If she did not hurry, she was going to be late for the first time. There were crowds in the streets and she could not easily get past people. She wondered at one point if people were not deliberately blocking her way. It took a long time for the traffic lights to change. Once she was on Fulton Street, it was even harder; it was as though crowds were coming out of a football game. Even moving at a normal pace was hard. She arrived at Bartocci’s with just a minute to spare. She did not know how she was going to spend the day standing on the shop floor trying to look pleasant and attentive. The minute she appeared upstairs in her work clothes she caught Miss Fortini’s gaze, which seemed disapproving as she began to move towards her, only for her then to be distracted by a customer. Once the customer had been dealt with, Eilis was careful not to look Miss Fortini’s way again. She kept her back to her for as long as she could.
“You don’t look well,” Miss Fortini said when she approached.
Eilis could feel her eyes filling with tears.
“Why don’t you go downstairs and have a glass of water and I’ll be down in a second?” Miss Fortini said. Her voice sounded kind but she did not smile.
Eilis nodded. It struck her that she had not yet been paid; she was still living on the money Rose had given her. If they sacked her, she did not know if they would pay her. If they did not, within a short time she would have no money at all. It would be hard, she thought, to find another job, but even if she did she would have to be paid at the end of the first week, otherwise she would not be able to pay the rent to Mrs. Kehoe.
Downstairs, she went into the bathroom and washed her face. She stared at herself in the mirror for a moment and then stood tidying her hair. Then in the staff room she waited for Miss Fortini.
“Now you’ll have to tell me what’s wrong,” she said as she came into the room and closed the door behind her. “Because I can see that there’s something wrong and soon some of the customers will begin to notice and then we’ll all be in trouble.”
Eilis shook her head. “I don’t know what’s wrong.”
“Is it your time of the month?” Miss Fortini asked.
Eilis shook her head again.
“Eilis”—she pronounced the name strangely, with too much emphasis on the second syllable—“why are you upset?” She stood in front of her and waited. “Would you like me to call Miss Bartocci?” she asked.
“No.”
“Then what?”
“I don’t know what it is.”
“Are you sad?”
“Yes.”
“All the time?”
“Yes.”
“Do you wish you were with your family at home?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have family here?”
“No.”
“No one?”
“No one.”
“When did the sadness begin? You were happy last week.”
“I got some letters.”
“Bad news?”
“No, no, nothing.”
“Just the letters? Have you been out of Ireland before?”
“No.”
“Away from your father and mother?”
“My father is