Foreign Affairs (21 page)

‘That’s good.’ His lips twitched in amusement at the ‘quite modern’ bit. He turned to face her. ‘Where’s Brenda? Is she not home from school
yet?’

‘She’s in Kathy’s, they’re doing their homework together. Mam’s leaving her dinner in the pot,’ she explained.

‘Where’s your mother? I believe she’s got a new hairdo?’

‘Oh Daddy, it’s lovely,’ Jennifer said eagerly. ‘And tell her that when she comes in. She’s hanging out some tea towels.’ Kit arrived in a minute later and
stopped short when she saw her husband.

‘Good Lord!’ Jim stared at his wife. Jennifer watched him warily. She hoped he wouldn’t say anything uncomplimentary as Grumps had done.

‘I needed a change, I was getting in a rut,’ Kit explained defensively.

‘It’s very nice, it’s a bit different but it’s very nice, Kit,’ her husband approved. ‘I like the colour.’ They smiled at each other. Jennifer felt a
huge wave of relief wash over her. Slowly she exhaled the breath she’d been holding. Sometimes things were a little tense between her parents. Anything could start a row. After
Grandpa’s ear-bashing and complaints a minute ago, Jennifer had been anxious about how Jim would react. He seemed to like it and that was the main thing.

They were sitting down having a cup of tea after their dessert when the subject came around to Kit’s hairdo. Jim asked about the price, but before his wife had a chance to tell him,
Grandpa Myles, who hadn’t said a word all through the meal, butted in truculently, ‘Waste of bloody money if you ask me. A woman of your age trying to look like a young wan. It’s
ridiculous. If you’re grey you’re grey, that’s the way the good Lord meant it to be.’

‘Nobody asked you,’ Kit said hotly. ‘It’s got nothing to do with you. Nothing at all. So mind your own business.’

‘Oh yes it has. It’s got plenty to do with me,’ he argued triumphantly. ‘It is my business when I’m left here to look after myself and me a cripple and people
knocking at the door and I not knowing what to say to them. It’s got plenty to do with me, when you’re out spending good money that my poor son has had to work himself to the bone for
and you’re frittering it away on nonsense,’ he blustered.

Jennifer saw her mother’s face go pale. In an instant she jumped from her chair, lifted the jug of milk off the table and flung it at her father-in-law, drenching him. ‘I’m
sick to death of you,’ she shouted. ‘I’m fed up to the back teeth listening to you criticizing me and my children. I don’t want you here, you ignoramus, but I’ve got
to put up with you because your own daughter won’t have you in her house. I’m not taking any more nonsense from you, Dan Myles, so shut your goddamn mouth.’

‘Kit, that’s enough!’ Jim shot up, grabbed a tea towel and started wiping his stunned father’s shirt.

‘Don’t you DARE tell me that’s enough, Jim Myles! Don’t you bloody dare! You stand up for him. You’ve never once stood up for me against him and I’m supposed
to be your wife. Ha!’ she snorted. ‘Well from now on he’s your responsibility. If I feel like a day out I’m going to have a day out. Because I’ve had enough of the
pair of you.’ Face contorted with anger, she walked out the door and slammed it so hard it shook the picture of the Holy Family on the wall.

There was silence at the table. Jennifer felt sick.

‘That woman is going off her head, and what kind of a way is that for any wife to talk to her husband? You’d want to give her a proper telling-off, Jim. I wouldn’t have stood
for that impudence from your mother,’ her grandfather declared.

Fury welled up in her.

‘You leave my mother alone, she’s very good to you and all you do is upset her,’ she burst out. ‘You’re a mean pig.’

‘Jennifer!’ her father roared. ‘Apologize to your grandfather immediately.’

‘I will not because that’s what he is,’ she yelled. ‘And you never stand up for Mammy. It’s always him.’

‘Be quiet,’ her father shouted. ‘And don’t give me back cheek or I’ll let you know about it. Don’t think because you’re in secondary school now
you’re going to start getting notions about yourself. Leave the table and go to your room and don’t let me hear another word. And you,’ he glared at his father, ‘be
quiet.’

Jennifer burst into tears. Her father was pointing his finger right in her face. She wanted to thump him and to tell him to stop picking on her, which he always did when he was angry. It
wasn’t her and her mother he should be shouting at, it was his trouble-maker of a father who had caused all the fuss in the first place.

Crying, she rushed out of the kitchen and ran upstairs to her bedroom. I’m never ever getting married, she vowed bitterly, and when I grow up I’m never going to let any man boss me
around the way my dad does. I just hate him, she sobbed to herself. She could hear her mother weeping in the adjoining bedroom. All of a sudden she felt very scared. Her parents were not getting on
well any more. Was it always going to be like this? Jennifer felt as if the weight of the world was on her shoulders as she went to comfort her mother.

Chapter Seventeen

‘Jenny, will you go to the shop for me?’ Brenda asked.

‘Ah Bren, I’m tired,’ she raised her head from the brilliant Georgette Heyer book she was reading and gazed over at her sister, who was sprawled across her bed gazing at a
photo of Mick Jagger.

If Jennifer heard
Satisfaction
just once more she’d freak. Brenda played it night and day.

It was a Sunday afternoon and the house was peaceful. Her mother was off visiting an arts and crafts exhibition at her ladies’ club. Her father was at a football match with her brothers.
And from the rumbles downstairs, Jennifer deduced that her grandfather was snoring his head off enjoying an after-dinner nap. To tell the truth she felt like going for a nap herself. She’d
been working all summer, in a jam-making factory. Yesterday had been her last day and she’d got overtime as well but she was absolutely whacked. It was her turn to make the Sunday dinner so
she couldn’t even have a lie-in this morning. The last thing she wanted to do was to go traipsing off to the shops. Besides, it had started to bucket rain. So much for summer, she thought
dispiritedly. In two days’ time, her mother, the boys and herself were heading down to a caravan site at Carne beach for ten days’ holiday. Beth was coming too and Jennifer was living
for it. Beth had been working in a café in town and she was even more exhausted than Jennifer was because she’d had to work shift hours. All they were going to do was sleep and eat,
they promised themselves. They weren’t looking forward to going back to school this year either. It was their Inter Cert year and they were going to have to knuckle under and get some serious
study done.

‘Please, Jenny, I’m dying for some chocolate,’ Brenda interrupted her musings. ‘I’ll treat you as well.’

Jennifer sighed. She knew Brenda would nag and nag and the afternoon would be ruined if she didn’t go and get the bloomin’ chocolate. She could, of course, refuse outright and then
her sister would have a face on her and go into one of her huffs. It was such a pain in the neck. All Jennifer wanted to do was snuggle under her quilt with her book and drop off into a nice doze
when her eyes got heavy. The rain was beating against the window. In the distance, over the mountains, she could hear the rumble of thunder. It was a perfect afternoon to be lazing in bed. Why
couldn’t Brenda just piss off and leave her alone?

‘Come on, let’s have a binge. Just think, crisps and chocolate and lemonade, you can have what you like,’ her sister wheedled.

‘Oh give me the money!’ Jennifer barked, throwing back her quilt and getting off the bed. There was no point in sitting listening to that carry-on for the afternoon. She might as
well get it over with so she could finally relax.

Brenda threw her a pound note. ‘Just spend the lot of it, I don’t care,’ she instructed. ‘Get me two packets of crisps, some chocolate and whatever else you
like.’

‘You’re going to hate yourself after. You’ll be moaning about putting on weight,’ Jennifer warned, hoping against hope that Brenda might reconsider.

‘Who cares? I don’t. I just want some chocolate,’ Brenda declared glumly, staring at her favourite picture of herself and Eddie. They’d had a tiff.

‘Look, you’re going to be huge if you keep having feasts like this,’ Jennifer cautioned.

‘I’ll start my diet tomorrow,’ Brenda promised. ‘Would you get me a fruit slice, if they have one, as well?’

It was hard living with someone who was in love, Jennifer reflected as she stepped over a huge puddle and tried to keep her umbrella from blowing inside out. It was more like the middle of
winter than summer.

It would be such a relief to get away for a few days, she thought as she battled her way home, ten minutes later, with a bag of goodies under her arm.

An ambulance went roaring past, its siren wailing, its lights flashing, and she said a quick prayer for the occupant. She hadn’t seen which direction it had come from, she’d been so
busy keeping her head down against the sheets of rain that were blowing into her face. She arrived home, dripping wet, cold and miserable but with the prospect of her book and bed and some
chocolate to cheer her up. Brenda met her at the foot of the stairs. She looked concerned about something.

‘Jenny, Beth’s had a terrible accident. She’s just been taken to hospital in the ambulance. Kathy ran in to tell me. It’s very serious,’ she heard her sister say.
Jennifer felt tears spring to her eyes. That was the end of Beth coming on holiday and she had been so looking forward to it.

‘What happened?’ she asked, shocked.

‘She was standing on a ladder while her brother was passing her down a case from the attic and the ladder moved and she slipped and lost her footing and fell over the banisters on her
head.’

‘Oh God, it’s all my fault. If I hadn’t asked her to go on holidays she wouldn’t have been getting a case from the attic.’

‘Don’t be daft, Jenny, these things happen. You can’t blame yourself. It was the hand of God,’ Brenda declared. ‘Did you get my chocolate?’

Mutely, Jennifer handed over the bag. Brenda was so self-centred. Imagine asking if Jennifer had bought her chocolate at a time like this, she thought in disgust. All Jennifer wanted to do was
to go into the hospital and see how Beth was. The prospect of going on holidays without her was most unappealing. Nothing ever turned out the way you wanted it to, she thought forlornly, refusing
Brenda’s offer of a bar of whole-nut. Her stomach was tied up in knots. Beth was seriously ill. Just how serious was serious? Was it broken limbs or was it much worse? Please God, let Beth be
OK, she prayed silently, wondering should she call down to Clearys but not wishing to intrude. The ambulance had only passed her a few minutes ago. There wouldn’t be any news yet.

The news, when it came, was not good. Beth was unconscious with a broken neck. They didn’t know the extent of the injuries. Beyond that they could not say. Jennifer was devastated. Only
family were allowed to visit and Mrs Cleary insisted that Jennifer go on holidays with her mother and brothers as planned. ‘There’s nothing you can do by staying at home, pet,’
she insisted. ‘They won’t let you in to see her so you might as well go. You can phone me every night and I’ll tell you what’s happening.’

Jennifer went to the mobile home with her mother and brothers, but it was the most miserable holiday of her life. First of all, she was plagued by guilt. Guilt at being on holidays when her
friend was seriously ill in hospital and guilt at feeling responsible for the accident. It didn’t help that it rained for eight of the ten days and all she could do was sit staring out at the
grey gloom trying to figure out where the sky merged with the angry leaden sea. Reading offered her no solace. Her thoughts constantly strayed towards home and Beth. Each night she phoned Mrs
Cleary to be told the same news. Beth was in a coma and her condition had not improved. Trapped in the claustrophobic confines of the holiday home, listening to her mother moaning about having to
put up with her father-in-law in the house, listening to her brothers arguing the toss out of boredom, Jennifer felt like screaming.

‘Oh for God’s sake, can’t you talk about something else?’ she snapped one evening after listening to Kit giving out yet again about Dan. He’d answered the phone
when Kit called to speak to Jim and informed his daughter-in-law that there was great peace and quiet in the house. He more or less implied that she wasn’t missed in the slightest.

Kit was disconcerted by her daughter’s rebuke and silently she wrapped herself in her anorak and marched out the door of the mobile home. She gave it a good slam as she went. Jennifer
watched her go and felt that she couldn’t take much more.

Kit walked along the beach, head down into the wind. Salty rain stung her cheeks and lips. Damp sand clung to her runners as her feet sank into the cloying softness beneath
them. Small fishing boats bobbed up and down alongside the pier and the frothy white spume of the waves crashed over their bows.

Jennifer had been
rude
. . . There was no need for such bad manners. Kit had a lot to put up with. That old scourge up in Dublin was enough to drive anyone barmy. Kit gave a tight
smile. Ever since she’d thrown the milk jug at him though, he’d tread a bit more warily. He didn’t give her as much impudence as before and he was now well used to getting his own
breakfast and lunch when the need arose. As it often did, she thought with satisfaction. Since that day when she’d gone into town and had her hair cut and coloured, Kit had clawed back a life
for herself. She’d joined the local ladies’ club. She’d taken up embroidery and patchwork. She went swimming three times a week, as well as joining an exercise class. She enjoyed
all of her activities, especially the physical ones. They helped to keep her sane. More importantly, they helped her feel she had taken back some control of her life. Because she could work off her
frustrations and resentments in exercise, she wasn’t so touchy and wound up at home. Much to her husband’s relief. Between them, there was an unspoken if somewhat fragile truce. Jim had
been terribly shocked at her outburst that evening and had told her that if it was what she really wanted, he would put his father in a home. It was such a glorious proposal that she’d agreed
immediately. But after several hours of reflection, she knew she couldn’t let Jim go through with it. Nevertheless, it was a night that marked a turning point in her life. She felt now that,
if really pushed, her husband would make the choice between her and his father and she would be his choice. Kit gained back a measure of self-esteem which helped her through the rough patches when
Dan was driving her nuts.