Brooklyn Page 0,80
I don’t think Mammy knows that yet. She thinks one of us might be able to stay but we can’t, you know. Work beyond is not like that. I don’t know what it’s like over there but we have to be back and Mammy is going to be here on her own. The neighbours will all come in and the others but I think it hasn’t hit her yet. I know she’d love to see you, she keeps saying that is the only thing she is hoping for but we don’t know what to say about it. She didn’t ask me to mention this but I’d say you’ll be hearing from her when she’s able to write. I think she wants you to come home. She’s never slept a night on her own in the house and she keeps saying that she won’t be able to. But we have to go back. She asked me if I had heard of any work in the town and I told her I’d ask around but the thing is I have to go back and so do Pat and Martin. I’m sorry for rambling on like this. The news must have come as a terrible shock to you. It did to us. We had trouble finding Martin for the whole day because he was out on a job. It’s hard to think of Rose out in the graveyard, that’s all I have to say. Mammy will want me to say that everyone was good and they were and she won’t want me to say that she’s crying all the time but she is, or most of the time anyway. I’m going to stop writing now and put this in an envelope. I’m not going to read it over because I started a few times and when I read it over I tore it up and had to start again. I’ll seal the envelope and I’ll post it in the morning. Martin, I think, is telling her that we have to go tomorrow. I hope this letter isn’t all terrible but, as I said, I didn’t know what to put into it. Mammy will be glad I sent it and I’ll go and tell her now that it’s written. You’ll have to say a prayer for her. I’ll go now.
Your loving brother, Jack
Eilis read the letter a few times and then she realized that she could not stay on her own now, she could hear Jack’s voice in the words he wrote, she could feel him in the room with her and it was as though he had come in from a hurling match and his team had lost and he was breathless with the news. If she had been at home she could have spent time talking to Jack, listening to him, sitting with her mother and Martin and Pat, going over what had happened. She could not imagine Rose lying dead; she had thought of her as asleep and being laid out like someone who was sleeping but now she had to think of her like stone, all the life gone out of her, and her closed in the coffin, all changed and changing and gone from them. She almost wished Jack had not written but she knew that someone had to write and he was the best at writing.
She moved around the room, wondering what she should do. It struck her for a second that she could get a subway to the harbour and find the next boat going across the Atlantic and simply pay the fare and wait and get on the boat. But she realized quickly that she could not do this, they might not have an empty place and her money was in the savings bank. She thought of going upstairs, and in her mind she went through each of her fellow lodgers but none of them could be any use to her now. The only person who could be any use to her was Tony. She looked at the clock; it was ten thirty. If she could get there quickly on the subway, then she could be at his house in less than an hour, maybe a bit longer if the late trains did not come so often. She found her coat and went quickly into the corridor. She opened and closed the basement door and went up the steps trying not to make a sound.
His mother answered the door in her dressing gown and took her