The Kelly Girls Part 1 - A Patriarchal Narcissist

The Kelly Girls – Part 1

Jack Kelly - A patriarchal narcissist

By Jacqueline Bragg

Jack Kelly was afraid to catch anyone elses' eye in the carriage, due to one of his own eyes being recently blackened with a full swing punch. He kept his head hung low as the train slowed, easing its clunking way into Stockwell station in South London. Like a circling, stuck record, the words of his mother, the saintly Mary Kelly, were repeatedly banging in the forefront of his head and making his ears throb: “You will rot in hell for your sins, Jack Kelly, you mind me, you will rot in hell with the other egits, like yourself. God only knows why he let me birth a son like you.”

The idea of potentially going to hell, (unashamedly acknowledging only to himself the more than plentiful misdemeanours he had committed), did with reason, frighten the bejesus out of Jack, much more than he would be likely to admit to anyone in the pub. Jack “John” Kelly, a short and stocky, not unattractive Irish born man, in his mid to late twenties, had a thick set face and neck, a full ginger head and brow, (this brow almost crossing above his nose as a monobrow); a sparkling intellect in his sharp blue eyes, often called a twinkle, which forever lives in all his offspring. It was also said that Jack Kelly had a far too ready smile for the lassies. He did, as his actions showed, find it particularly difficult to pursue the straight and narrow Catholic path, as was demanded of him. Both his puritanical, god-fearing mother, Mary Kelly, and the kindlier priest, Father Owen, knew that Jack's sins were many and diverse. Father Owen, who knew more than most about Jack’s shenanigans, owing to his unique role as confessor and listener to his congregation's darkest secrets in the confession box, despaired for both Jack’s soul and the well-being of Jack’s long-suffering wife, Maggie, along with their four young children, all girls under the age of nine.

Holding his slightly shaky left hand over his left eye, Jack felt the throbbing where the punch had landed. In his rapid and spontaneous escape from possible further blows, as he ran out of the back door and vaulted over the garden fence, he had no chance to take in the extent of how bloody, bruised, and indeed, blackened the eye appeared. He now felt the sensation that others on the train were making sideways glances at him, muttering words he could not quite catch, and shifting their position away from him. Jack’s rising paranoia brought on the sweats in ever increasing waves, and he thought he could smell a queer damp odour, his own uncontrollable and volcanic fear. He wiped his brow with his right hand and shifted his own position closer to the train door. His palms were reddening.

“Damn you Maggie, damn you to hell woman, you’re the one who should go to hell and never return,” he thought to himself, “You, Maggie, you are a wicked, wicked woman. I am a man, a man who, they say on the street, out loud: “There goes Jack John Kelly – a good man, a hard-working man.” I am your husband and a good father to those girls, and I have given everything to you, everything. I will not be made to look a fool, like this, I swear to God, I do. I swear on my mother Mary’s death bed.”

The train slowed, clunked to a juddering stop and Jack stepped down quickly onto the near empty platform, at last relieved he was no longer being stared at by the passengers remaining on the train, and continued to partially cover his face with his left hand.

He glanced up to the exit route towards the end of the platform and as he gathered his bearings, he saw them - a small, huddled-together group of young girls with their mother, just as they were about to climb the stairs on their way out of the station. Maggie turned at the same instant, as if Jack’s thoughts had reached her ears, through a familial ether, unexpected, but always apparent. Her eyes flared, she tightened her grip on two of the girls’ hands she was holding, as she issued a sharp order to the young children beside her: “Wait, stay here, I see your father there! And I am sure he is not yet calmed down.”

The eldest of the four sisters, Shirley Kelly, nine years old, with responsibilities far, far beyond those of her years, gathered together within her arms the family brood, a short distance away on the stairs. They were all afraid of Jack, their sometimes-absent father, and had witnessed many more a set-to between their parents than any young girl should be subjected to. By logical extension of past scenes scarred onto their innocent minds, they were afraid of what might happen to their mother in this new and immediate confrontation.

Jack stood still. He had not shifted from his place at the edge of the platform where he had alighted. His sweats increased, and he experienced a dripping feeling, but Jack was unsure where this was coming from. His face became puce and blotchy, his blood pressure rose and he felt as if he was pumping his own blood through his body manually, as his heart stopped. He clenched his fists in preparation to punch someone or something, anything. The confusion was boiling his brain. He was not in his home, but in a public place, onlookers, witnesses who could bring him down, say things against him. A dizziness took hold which forced him to breathe heavily and gasp, he did not want to fall there. He tried to focus his attention on Maggie as she approached him. She took slow, short, yet direct steps towards him. Her facial expression was serene, Maggie had no fear of him, nor for herself. She was regularly described by those in the neighbourhood as a “beauty” and “a fine figure of a woman,” as well as, “a good friend to all and well loved, our Maggie.” Maggie was known to stand her ground, even against Jack’s large fists. Her daily concerns were less spiritual, less concerned with her own prospects at the pearly gates and the afterlife, than Jack’s desires to make it to the heavenly spot. She was not overly worried whether she had committed any deadly sins, but whether she could pay the man from the Provident his dues, when he knocked at the door every week. She did pray enthusiastically though that Jack would always love her, as she had always loved him, and stay by her side. A prayer that many of her family were at odds with. Maggie's own mother would silently pray that Jack might suffer a terrible accident and die.

Maggie Kelly continued her approach towards her husband on the station platform, until she was just about within spitting distance of Jack.

She breathed in and out evenly, before speaking, looking directly into his one good eye, as he continued to clench his fists. “Well, John,” said Maggie (she always refused to call Jack, “Jack,” and always referred to him as “John,” displaying her sometimes rebellious nature). “This time you have well and truly ensured your pathway to hell. I am not sure that God, nor even Father Owen can help you now or forgive this one easily, even if you confessed all, and, for once, were totally honest in your confessions with Father Owen. And as for your own mother Mary, well, she might even have to get the belt out again to you, old and ugly though that you now are, she has always put the fear of God into you. You know how she feels about these things. You know, John, I will have to tell her the truth, you know that, don’t you?”

The girls remained rigid on the stairs, as one, as still as rabbits caught in headlights, while wholly alert in case of the sudden need to bolt. The youngest one, Jenny Kelly, made a grunting, gurgling noise, which turned into a hiccoughing sob. Maggie’s eyes showed a slight change of emotion, a flicker of anxiety, but nothing that Jack would notice. She did not turn around. His fists opened, he staggered a little, swallowed, and then the ubiquitous guilty tears flowed: “Please Maggie, please. Please don’t say anything to Mary. I absolutely promise you to change, I will change, you know that. I will never do this again. I will not see Lily again, I promise, I will not go back there ever, at all. I will not see that child when it is born. You know, my Maggie that you are the only woman I have ever loved. Please don’t tell Mary, please, please don’t tell Mary, for the love of God, for God’s sake, woman. I’ll even forgive you for the black eye you’ve given me, if you’ll just stay quiet on this one. I promise I can change, you know I love you; you know I do. You do believe me, don’t you Maggie?”

The Kelly family - mother, father and their four young daughters, walked up the stairs of the station in Stockwell together. The four siblings walked hand in hand with each other, Shirley holding onto the staircase rail as an anchor. Maggie was ahead of them all, poised and looking straight ahead as she mounted the stairs, keeping her distance from the others, while also gripping the rail. The sisters burst into chatter of nothing, as they always did, in an innocent expression of another conflict avoided and in relief. Jack did not speak. He wiped his bad eye with the back of his hand and flinched with the pain. He walked up the stairs following his young family, as he swallowed and grimaced at a strange iron taste in his mouth. The Kelly family exited the station and came out to see the bluest of skies above. Jack did not notice the sky though. He now had to confront new preoccupations, as his body shuddered again at the thought: How was he going to face Father Owen at the following Sunday’s confession? Would Maggie tell Mary?

The truth in the history

Maggie gets on the train at Stockwell

It was a fair feat for Maggie to get all the Kelly girls onto the train at Stockwell station along with herself, each of them spruced up and dressed well, which was not always the case at home. While not ragamuffins, by any stretch, Shirley (9), Pauline (7) Theresa (5) and Jenny (3) enjoyed the freedom of London street life in the post war era and embraced the dirt and dust that came with it, as well as the additional outdoor freedom that inspired their confidence in life. Maggie could ill-afford the train fares, but she was on a mission – to catch Jack Kelly out in the act of living a secret double life.

How it came to pass

Maggie Kelly knocks on the Lily's door. Nineteen year old Lily is pregnant by Jack Kelly – Lily is living with her parents. They are located outside of London, but within distance of a train commute from Stockwell. Jack has thrown the news of Lily's pregnancy in Maggie’s face countless times in arguments, to ensure she knows her place in his scheme of things.

Lily’s parents have no idea that Jack is married and has four children. The story they have been told is that he works abroad and therefore travels a lot and is not often around. So, his lies have been supported. They believe that Jack is going to support their daughter

Lily is now around eight to nine months pregnant.

Lily’s parents answer the door to Maggie and the four Kelly girls and initially refuse to believe her claims that she is Jack's wife and that the four girls with her are his children. Maggie asks to see Jack, who she says she knows is inside and staying in their home.

Lily’s parents go inside and fetch Jack. He comes to the door after much coaxing from Lily’s parents, as he knows his cover is blown and he is a lying coward, who is unable to take the exposure.

Maggie says nothing to Jack as he stands at the door, but instead punches him hard in the face on Lily’s parents’ doorstep. She gives him a serious black eye, with one single punch.

Jack runs out of the back door of the house and vaults the fences through gardens. He then gets the train back to Stockwell. He doesn't want to face either Lily or her parents.

Lily’s parents are kind people and invite Maggie and the girls into their home. I am not sure how Lily felt about this.

Maggie and the Kelly girls get the train home.

As Jack gets off the train, he sees his family who purely coincidentally have been on another carriage of the same train. His black eye is terrible.

Jack Kelly goes home with Maggie Kelly and the four girls that same day.

Maggie keeps her power over Jack and keeps her ammunition for the future. She never tells his mother Mary that Jack has an illegitimate child. Jack is petrified that Maggie will reveal this truth to Mary. He still does not behave.

Footnote

Jack was always terrified of dying and going to hell, right up until hell beckoned, perhaps he never truly confessed all of his many diabolical sins to the priest. He died at 88 years old of complications from Alzheimer’s, while in hospital near Stockwell. All the Kelly girls, there were then five of them, visited Jack, their very much not beloved father, but they cared for him at the end. They all forgave him over the years, for his narcissistic and lying ways and as my mother did, one of those Kelly girls, then so too must I.

Some recollections may vary.

To be continued.