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Authors: Maeve Binchy

Tara Road (59 page)

BOOK: Tara Road
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'She does have a child but he's with his father in Hawaii, Mam told us ages ago, you just didn't listen,' Annie put in.

'Well, he's no use to us in Hawaii,' Brian said. 'Were you about to make tea, Nora?'

'I thought the pair of you were going down home for your supper.'

'Yes, wellGCa'

Nora got out orange squash and biscuits.

'Why did you never go to America, Granny?' Annie asked.

'In my day working-class people only went to America to emigrate, they didn't go on holidays.'

'Are we working class?' Brian asked with interest.

Nora Johnson looked at her two confident, bright grandchildren and wondered what class they might consider themselves at the end of the summer when, according to informed opinion, their beautiful home would be sold. But she said nothing of that.

'You're to have a great holiday and you're to send me four postcards, one a week, do you hear?'

'I think postcards are dear out there,' Brian said.

'You're as bad as your Aunty HilaryGCa I was going to give you a fiver anyway for spending money.'

At that time by chance Pliers gave a great wail.

'I didn't ask for the money,GCO Brian cried out, remembering that Annie had threatened to feed his body to the dog.

'No, Brian, of course you didn't,' Annie said menacingly.

It was very odd to go into their own home as guests. And even more odd to find the place so quiet. When they had been here with Mam only a month ago there were always people coming in and out. It wasn't like that now.

'Where's Clement?' Annie asked. 'He's not in his chair.'

'He may be upstairs, I'm sure he'll come down when he smells the food.'

'Clement doesn't go upstairs,' Brian began, then catching Annie's eye he changed tack hastily. 'What I mean isGCa he used not to be much interested in going upstairs. But maybe he's changed now.'

Marilyn hid a smile. 'I've got a wonderful supper for us from Colm,' she said. 'I checked what you'd both like.'

They helped her set the table as the food was warming in the oven. It was so different to the time when they had come first and she had found them hard going.

'Have you packed everything?'

'I think so,' Annie said. 'Mam e-mailed a list of what we should take to Dad's office. Imagine her being able to use machines.'

'She uses all these machines here.' Marilyn waved around at the food processors and high-tech kitchen equipment. Recently she had felt a very strong protective sense about Ria. She wouldn't have anyone criticise her, enough bad luck had come into her life already.

'Oh that's just kitchen stuff,' Annie said loftily. 'Mam would learn anything if it had to do with the house.'

'Maybe she's broadening out.'

'Are you broadening out here?' Brian was interested.

'In a way yes, I'm doing things that I wouldn't normally do at home. It's probably the same for your mother.'

'What do you do that's so different?' Annie was interested. 'I mean you liked gardening and walking and reading at home, you said, and you're doing all that here.'

'That's true,' Marilyn said thoughtfully. 'But I feel different inside somehow. Maybe it's the same with your mother.'

'I hope she feels more cheerful about Dad and everything,' Brian said.

'Well, being away from the problem is a help certainly.'

'Did it help you feel better about your husband?' Brian wanted to know. He looked nervously at Annie, waiting for her to tell him to shut up and call him a thicko but she obviously wanted to know too, so for once she said nothing.

Marilyn shifted a little uncomfortably at the direct question. 'It's a bit complicated. You see I'm not separated from my husband. Well, I am of course, since he's in Hawaii and I'm here, but we didn't have an argument, a fight or anything.'

'Did you just go off him?' Brian was trying to be helpful.

'No, it wasn't that, and before you ask I don't think he went off me. It's just we needed some time to be alone and then perhaps it will be all right, maybe at the end of the summer.'

'Do you think Mam and Dad might be all right after the summer too?' Poor Brian's face was so eager that Marilyn felt a lump in her throat. She couldn't think of anything helpful to say.

'There's the little matter of Bernadette and the baby,' Annie said, but she spoke more gently than usual.

'And did your husband not have anyone young who was going to have a baby?' Brian was clutching at straws.

'No, that wasn't it at all.'

'Well then there's not much hope,' Brian said. He looked as if he was about to cry.

'Brian, can you do me a favour? I have a horrible feeling that Clement may have gone to sleep on my bed, on your mother's bed, and we don't want him to get into bad habits. Do you think you could go up and rescue him?'

'He's really Annie's cat.' Brian's lip was trembling but he knew too well Annie's territorial attitude to Clement and didn't want to risk being bawled out over it.

'It's okay, get him down,' Annie agreed. When he had gone upstairs Annie apologised for him. 'He's very dumb,' she said.

'And young,' Marilyn added.

'He still thinks it will end all right,' Annie sighed.

'And you, Annie, what do you think?'

'I think as long as Mam is able to keep this house, she'll survive somehow.'

Danny came home late. Bernadette sat curled in her armchair, the table was set for two. 'Where are the children?' he asked.

Bernadette raised her eyes slowly to him. 'I beg your pardon?' she said.

'Where are Annie and Brian?'

'Oh. I see. NotGCa hallo Bernadette, or I love you sweetheart, or it's good to be home. Well, since you ask where the children are, try to remember back as far as breakfast when they said they were going to make a series of calls saying goodbye to people like your mother-in-law, my mother, Marilyn, whoever, and you said they were to be home by ten at the latest.'

He was instantly contrite. 'Jesus, Bernadette, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry and crass and stupid and selfish. I had a dayGCoboy, did I have a day, but that's not your fault. Forgive me.'

'Nothing to forgive,' she shrugged.

'But there is,' he cried. 'You've given up everything for me and I come in and behave like a boor.'

'I gave up nothing for you, it was you who gave up a lot for me.'

Her voice was calm and matter-of-fact as if she were explaining something to a child. 'Let me get you a drink, Danny.'

'It might make me worse.'

'Not a long, cool, very weak whiskey sour, it's mainly lemonade.' 'I'm no company for you, a grumpy old man harassed by work.' 'Shush.' She handed him the drink and raised the level on the player a little. 'Brahms, he works magic all the time.'

Danny was restless, he wanted to talk. But Brahms and the whiskey sour did their work. He felt his shoulders relaxing, the frown-lines going from between his eyes. In many ways there was nothing to talk about. What was the point of giving Bernadette a blow-by-blow account of the unpleasantness in the office today? How Larry their bank manager had been downright discourteous on the telephone. How a big businessman had pulled out of a consortium that was going to do a major development in Wicklow because he said Barney and Danny were unreliable, possibly tainted partners. How Polly had called to warn them that the word was out they were on the skids. How Barney had proved elusive and distant over all these matters as if it didn't really concern him.

And, worst of all, Danny's niggling fear that the personal guarantee he had given to Barney on Number 16 Tara Road would be called in and that he would lose the house. And not only would there be no home for Ria and the children but there would be nothing to sell. Some things were too huge to talk about, Bernadette was quite right not even to attempt it.

Clement sat in his chair but glanced wistfully at the door that would take him back to the big comfortable bed with its white counterpane where he had been sleeping happily for so long.

As she served Colm's food, Marilyn told them more about Westville. She explained the alumni weekend and how everyone would come back and tell each other how young they looked. 'My husband will be coming back from Hawaii so you'll meet him then.'

'Will he be staying in the house, your house?' Annie asked.

'Yes, apparently your mother very kindly said he could.'

'Will your son be coming back too?'

'I beg your pardon?'

'Your son? Isn't he in Hawaii with Mr Vine?'

'My son?'

Annie didn't like the look on Marilyn's face. 'Um yes.'

'Who told you that?'

'Mam did.'

'Your mother said that Dale was in Hawaii?'

'She didn't say his name but she said his room was all there ready for him to come back.'

Marilyn had gone very white.

Brian didn't notice. 'Will he be there when we're there? Maybe we could have competitions with the basketball?'

'Did your mother say anything more?' Marilyn's voice was scarcely above a whisper now.

Annie was very alarmed. 'I think she said she'd asked Mr Vine about him but she didn't get any details so she doesn't know if he's going to be coming back or not.'

'Oh my God,' Marilyn said.

'I'm very sorryGCa should I not have asked? Is anythingGCa wrong?' Annie began.

'What is it?' Brian asked. 'Is he not in Hawaii? Did he run away?'

'I see now what he meant,' Marilyn said.

'What?'

'Greg said that your mother sounded very religiousGCa'

'She's not a bit religious,' Brian said disapprovingly. 'Nora always says she's heading for the hob of hell.'

'Shut up, Brian,' Annie said automatically.

'What a stupid thing to do. I never stopped to think that of course that's what she would imagine.' Marilyn looked utterly anguished.

'So he's not in Hawaii?' Annie asked.

'No.'

'Where is he then?' Brian was getting tired of this.

'He's dead,' Marilyn Vine said. 'My son Dale is dead.'

Danny felt a lot calmer after an hour. Perhaps he was just exaggerating the situation. Bernadette drifted into the kitchen to prepare the smoked chicken salad. There was never any hiss of pots boiling, souffles rising, pastry-making covering the whole place with flour. He had never known how gentle and undemanding life could be, how free from frenzied activity. And there was more than enough of that in the office.

'Have I three minutes to make a call?' he asked.

'Of course.'

He dialled Finola. 'This is Danny Lynch. I wanted to apologise very sincerely for my bad temper with you.'

'I expect the children asked you to do this.'

'No, not at all, they're not here.'

'Or Bernadette?'

'You know your daughter better than that, she has never mentioned it. Not once. No, this is from me. I was out of order.'

'Well, Danny, what can I say?' She sounded totally nonplussed.

'The answer to your question is that our company is in financial trouble, but I am utterly certain we will get out of it. We have plenty of assets. Bernadette will not be left destitute, believe me.'

'I believe you, Danny, and thank you. Perhaps I should not have asked. It's just that you have so many other responsibilities as well as Bernadette.'

'They'll be looked after, Finola. Are we friends now?'

'We always were,' she said.

He hung up and saw Bernadette watching him from the doorway. 'You are a hero,' she said. 'It's just as simple as that.'

In the kitchen of Number 16 Tara Road a silence had fallen.

Eventually it was broken by Brian. 'Did he have an awful disease or something?' he asked.

'No, he was killed. A motor-cycle wreck.'

'What did he look like? Did he have red hair like you?' Annie asked.

'Yes. Even though we have no Irish blood at all, both Greg and I have reddish hair, so for poor Dale there was no escape. We're both tall, so he was tall too. And lean. And sporty. He had braces on his teeth, you know lots of the kids in the States do.'

'It's coming in here a bit too,' Brian said, not wanting Ireland to be left behind.

'Sure it is. He was one great kid. Every mother thinks her son is the best in the world, I was no different.'

'Have you a picture of him, a photograph?' Annie asked.

'No, none at all.'

'Why not?'

'I don't know. It would make me too sad, I suppose.'

'But you have pictures of him at home; Mam said he was very good-looking and he had a lovely smile. That's why I was sort of hoping he'd be there,' Annie said.

'Yes.'

'I'm sorry.'

'No, it's all right, he was good-looking.'

'Did he have any girlfriends?'

BOOK: Tara Road
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