Writer's Notebook

If I'd known that marrying was such hard work, I might have had second thoughts about it. But for the moment Morgana and I were living in bliss. News of our engagement soon flew through the village and before long perfect strangers who until then had totally ignored us, stopped us in the streets to ask when the happy day would be. But what everyone most wanted to know was whether the celebration would take place here or in Brittany. Strangely enough, no one ever seemed to contemplate the possibility of an Irish wedding. But as yet, none of these questions had any answers. We were to busy enjoying the first fruits of being in love to contemplate any of these things. And apart from that things were getting busy. The AGM of the Espace Loisirs was just a few weeks away and we were busy preparing a concept for the future.

The first year had gone reasonably well. Overall inscriptions were slightly down but the number of activities were up and the actual number of people still attending after 4 months was far higher than it had ever been. The handball team were second in their division, the creative writing group had got together with the photography group and were preparing an exhibition entitled "Forest Gleanings" and a number of the other sports teams were doing well in their respective leagues.

But our biggest success was the fact that the centre was rapidly becoming a vital element in bringing people of the village together. During the six months since opening we had had two concerts and a dance evening. Attendance at both was beyond our wildest dreams and led to several demands for some more regular activity. We were currently examining the possibility of opening a drop in café which would serve as a meeting place for the young mothers, and the elderly.

But the one area where we were sadly lacking was in the realm of music. There was so much we could do, especially for the youth of the village who more often than not would hit the highway and migrate to the big city at weekends. But who would take it on? Then we got a letter from a former music teacher living locally, proposing her help on a voluntary basis. She certainly seemed very competent and was very willing. She was a bit cagey about her age and I figured the 'former' with which she had described herself must imply that she was now retired. Would she connect with the young people we were trying to reach? And why all the mystery with a letter? Why didn't she just come and see us?

We talked about the matter at the next committee meeting but the offer received a cool welcome. Morgana was very critical without giving any reasons. But then how could she be otherwise? Who knew better than I that she dearly wanted to take on this job herself. But how could I ask her to make the sacrifice of giving up her job at the conservatoire? Besides, what would we live on? My salary at the centre was more or less adequate, but as yet it was still only guaranteed for one year. An nearly empty bank account was not the best way to begin married life. What did surprise me in this matter, however, was Thérèse' lack of enthusiasm. We all knew she was burning with a desire to get something off the ground for the young people in the village, yet she said absolutely nothing; and when questioned just murmured some sort of general approbation. It seemed she had serious misgivings but did not want to voice them. I was now beginning to have serious misgivings myself, but we nonetheless decided no harm would come of asking this lady to come and meet us, so we discuss her offer further. The moment this decision was taken, Thérèse spoke up.

"I'm afraid I have to confess to a certain subterfuge concerning this offer. But our candidate felt this subterfuge was necessary so that we would, at least once, talk about this issue without knowing whom it really concerned, as that might have unduly influenced us. In fact, we are not talking about a former teacher, although this young lady will become a former teacher if you accept her offer. It's a young lady with excellent qualifications and a very good job. But her heart is not in her work. She doesn't want to serve an elite few but to bring music and creativity to a much wider audience. And so I propose we do indeed question her directly, as she's sitting at the table with us. And I'm sure, that now we've accepted the principle, we'll have no hesitation in accepting the candidate. And please accept my assurance that our director knew nothing at all about this."

I was dumbfounded. How on earth had the two of them managed to pull the blinds over my eyes. The matter of the letter was easy. They'd had it written by a friend of Morgana's whom I didn't know. But why hadn't she said anything? I would have been overjoyed at such a proposition. Or would I have been? If indeed, it was so, then why hadn't I myself asked Morgana to take it on? And the matter of the money? Maybe their little subterfuge was necessary, after all?