Finishing Touches by Patricia Scanlan

herself, Nora smiled in the dark. That Aileen O’Shaughnessy! She was terribly fond of her, and indeed of Laura Quinn.
They were good friends to Cassie and Nora knew you’d always need good friends more than anything in this life. Aileen had been at the wake. Dressed in a trenchcoat, with a beret perched
sideways on her titian curls, she had looked like a member of the French Resistance. Nora was surprised to see her there. But her widowed mother was with her so she had obviously gone to keep her
company. It was so strange to see Aileen murmuring the Rosary and looking as if butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth. No doubt she would go on to the party later.
    Nora tossed restlessly. She should have let Cassie go, she supposed. Her eldest daughter was rarely troublesome; in fact, Nora depended on her a great deal. Maybe too much. That was always the
way with the eldest, though, wasn’t it? Maybe she was a bit too strict with her. Jack maintained that she was. But of course Jack was as soft as marshmallow. Children needed a firm hand. They
had to learn that they couldn’t have everything they wanted. Not that Cassie was in the habit of asking for much. She had her job in the shop and contributed towards her own clothes and was
very generous to her brothers and sisters. She had even bought herself a new outfit for the party. These things were so important to teenagers. John was wanting to go to discos now, and was
beginning to take a welcome interest in his appearance. His latest thing was to beg her to let him get a leather jacket. Nora had put her foot down very firmly. Both he and Martin were saving hard
for a pair of Doc Martens, whatever they might be.
    Tomorrow, she’d make it up to Cassie. She’d give her a couple of quid and tell her to take the girls to Kentucky Fried Chicken on Main Street for a treat. Nora’s last conscious
thought was to remind herself to refill the holy water font at the front door. Elsie had caught her out once before with an empty font.
    Jack Jordan lay beside his wife, willing sleep to come. He was dead tired. He had been working like a slave painting the outside of the bungalow, cutting lawns and weeding
flower-beds because of
the visit
. Of course it was always the same when his sister-in-law was coming. Nora got herself into such a tizzy. And the strange thing was, usually she was such a
capable woman and things did not get to her. But then Elsie was such a domineering woman. Every time she came she’d have something to criticize. Once, at the christening of one of the
children, they had served a little buffet and Elsie had announced to all and sundry, at the top of her voice, ‘Your crisps are stale.’ Poor Nora had been mortified and he had felt like
planting his boot up his sister-in-law’s backside. As far as Jack was concerned, Elsie was downright rude. But of course he couldn’t say such a thing to his wife. Oh deary me, no! It
was all right for Nora to criticize Elsie or the rest of her siblings, but it did not go down well if he or anyone else criticized
them
. They were a tight clan, the Freyns. That was the
way it was with families, he supposed. Poor old Cassie had been mighty upset this evening. And to think he had managed to get Nora to change her mind about letting her go to the party. No easy feat
in the mood she was in. And then they had to walk in and find Cassie and Barbara swinging out of each other. That had been the end of that! Cassie was like him in that respect, rarely losing the
cool, but when she did lose her temper, watch out!
    Jack yawned. Maybe Elsie could do with a bit of temper heading her way. If she said one thing out of place, one thing mind, then he’d really let her have it this time. For years he had
been restraining himself out of consideration for Nora. But he’d had enough. His whole family was out of sorts because of Elsie’s visit. Nora was like a devil; Cassie had missed her
party; Martin and John hadn’t even been