Second Hand Jane by Michelle Vernal

weird?”
    Brianna
grinned. “If I was Nora, I would say it definitely sounds weird but
since it’s me you are talking to, I think I get it. You’d like to
know the story behind the name in the book, is that it?”
    “That’s it
exactly! Who was that child? Did he or she pore over the stories
and the pictures like I did? Were they daydreamers too? Who did
they grow up to be?”
    “Jaysus, you
are such a romantic, Jessica Baré. Where are you going with
this?”
    “I am going to
find her.”
    “You’ve lost me
again—who exactly are you off to find? And please don’t say
yourself because you’re far too young for a mid-life crisis.”
    Jess laughed. “Don’t worry; I’m not going
to do an Eat,
Pray, Love and frolic
round Bali. I am going to find out what became of Amy Aherne from
Ballymcguinness. She was six years old when her brother Owen gave
her Snow
White and the Seven Dwarfs for Christmas in 1973. So I am going to write about my
journey to find the forty-six-year old Amy. I will do the detective
work to find out who she is now, what she went on to do with her
life and what that book meant to her. What do you
think?”
    “Wow, it’s a
bit out there but at the same time I think it’s a brilliant idea!”
Brianna was wide-eyed, imagining Amy Aherne, wherever she might be
now. “Gosh, she could have grown up to be anything; how fascinating
to find out. She could be an airhostess or an actress or a writer
like you.” Brianna’s eyes became saucer-like. “Oh my God, what
would you do if you found out she was a prostitute?” Before Jess
could reply, another thought occurred to her. “What if she doesn’t
want you to write about her?”
    “Whoa, slow
down. Who’s the writer—me or you? If she doesn’t want me to write
about her, I guess I will just have to come up with another
brilliant idea. So what have you got on for the week then?”
    “I’ve a PTA
meeting Thursday night; it’s full-on at the moment because we’re
organising the school fair in October—tonight’s topic is the cake
stall. I expect you to contribute, you know.”
    “But I can’t
bake.”
    “I meant buy
something from the stall, you eejit. We can’t all hang out with the
rich and famous, you know. Some of us have responsibilities.” She
grinned. “Pete and I might try to get out for a meal down at the
pub on Friday night, if Mammy’s free, and Saturday afternoon I am
meeting up with a group of mams to discuss saving our local
playgroup.”
    “Harry doesn’t
go to playgroup anymore, though.”
    “I know but I
have fond memories of when he did.”
    Jessica
laughed. “You call me a romantic! Well, you’re the queen of the
community-minded. Bray would grind to a halt without you.” She
frowned, glancing at her watch. “It’s two fifteen already, Brie.
What time do you have to leave to pick Harry up?”
    “CRAP! I’d
forgotten about Harry. Come on, I’ve got to get a move on!”
     
    ***
     
    “ You look fabulous. I love that dress. The
colour is great on you—very Lavinia from Downton Abbey .”
    “You look
lovely, too—very Naomi Watts in King Kong .” Nora had gone for old-time glamour, too, and it suited
her.
    “Thanks. It’s
silly, isn’t it? But I think I’m more nervous going on this second
date than I was on the first.”
    “You should be
nervous because I’ll murder you if this friend of his turns out to
be a big hairy gorilla.”
    “At least
you’ll get a column out of it.”
    There was no
time for further discussion as Nora’s intercom buzzed, signalling
Ewan and his mystery mate had arrived.
    The two women
looked at each other and giggled with Nora announcing, “God, I feel
like I’m sixteen and off to my school ball!”
    They tottered
down the stairs of Nora’s Georgian two-storey manor house. Its
bricks were laid firmly in the heart of fashionable Rathmines,
where she paid a premium rent to live in the house’s converted
second-storey apartment. On the quiet street outside,