Written for Pancreatic Cancer UK to help fundraise and raise awareness of this terrible disease after losing my dad to it November 2020.

Ireland’s Crolly Doll word prompt from Gloria Mcbreen.    Part one of five.

This story is fiction so if you own a Crolly doll there is no need to be afraid!

The Crolly doll

Do you have a toy that even though you hate it, you can’t part with it?   When I was small my Grandmother went away for a few weeks to Ireland.  Her stories made me want to visit and live and breathe its beauty.  She bought me something unique from her trip and it has haunted me since.  For years I put her in a box. I hid her away not wanting to look into her eyes.

When my Grandmother passed away in her sleep last year, the first thing I thought of was the eerie Crolly doll, dressed in tweed.  She told me about Donegal and the Crolly village post office and about the museum in Limerick.   The doll had always scared me with its piercing eyes, but they are popular collector’s items maybe even worth something.

Today had been like any other long tiring day.  The doll sat on the wall unit staring back at me. As I tidied up the dishes, I could sense it watching me. I’ve been telling myself that it’s not real, its plastic and it can’t hurt me.   Why would it hurt me anyway?

1940

As Aoife worked on the dolls head, fear tore through her.  Tormented by dreams of a stranger, she had never seen her when awake before. This inanimate piece of plastic had somehow linked her dreams to reality.   She had seen this woman many times at night, but never during the day.   Who is she?

Spending her day moulding dolls, not something she ever saw herself doing, working in the factory in County Donegal.  Attaching the hard heads to their soft bodies and then dressing them.  Observing the other workers, she wondered if anyone else had seen the unknown woman as well.  They all seemed to be concentrating on their task, one doll after another.

As Aoife worked and held each doll head, she could see the unknown woman.  Somehow, she had to be linked to the Crolly dolls.

1973

Walking through County Donegal, Edna was enjoying the atmosphere of the Irish town.  The sounds and smells of the fish market make her dizzy.  Walking past a charity shop a doll in tweed caught her eye. It appeared to be staring at her and she thought of her Granddaughter Laura.  A toddler who she adored greatly.

Stepping into the shop she heard the ting of the bell, browsing through the dusty shelves the smell of musty books hit her.  Seeing a box full of records, she flicked through them.  The music of the Beach boys, the Beatles and the Seekers. Tempted to purchase one she reminded herself that she was in Ireland and did not have a record player.

Noticing the Crolly doll again with its eyes fixed on her, she picked it up out of the window. Holding it close she felt its presence.  Almost as if it was telling her to buy it, she thought of Laura again.   She didn’t know its history but she admired its quality.

Taking it to the checkout she paid in cash and walked out of the shop.  Back into the smells of the Donegal Street.

2021

After a long workday, I sat down, feeling the pain throughout my body.  The exhaustion of being on my feet for hours.  Closing my eyes, I suddenly jump, woken with a start as I see the Crolly doll watching me.  Feeling scared, I wished that I didn’t live alone.  Both my children have grown up and left home and husband Robert walked out a year before.

Tempted to pack it away again I thought again of my Grandmother.  She would have been upset to know how much I hated it. Tonight I decided it was time to stop thinking about it, ignore it as any fear must be in my mind.  How could a piece of plastic hurt me?

Reaching for the remote, I flicked on the television. As the local news came on the screen, I closed my eyes again and this time fell to sleep.

Written for A story a day for Pancreatic Cancer UK

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