Twisted Love and Money (36 page)

“We were going
to hose him down Monsey dear, don’t be worrying about the lino in
the hall.”

“Divil a bit of
it. I’ll not hear of it. Bring in the gentleman and we’ll give him
a proper bath in the kitchen.”

“Fair enough.
In you go lad. Wipe your feet.”

Peter had never
been in the house. He had always picked up Jenny in his car at the
end of the lane. The kitchen was warm. There was a large Aga solid
fuel cooker in one corner and a turf fire in the grate.

“Get those
smelly clothes off and throw them in the yard,” Monsey
instructed.

Peter’s arms
were still alternately sore and numb and the two sons pulled his
clothes off.

Monsey produced
a large tub from a cupboard and began to fill it from a standpipe
in the corner. From the Aga cooker she took a large pot of boiling
water and added this to the tub. Then she took a black kettle off
the hook over the turf fire and added some more hot water to the
tub.

During this
procedure Peter stood with his hands in front of his privates
watched closely by the farmer and his two sons. The farmer still
had his large penknife in his hand and was cleaning his fingernails
with the sharp end. Peter swallowed hard as he remembered Dermot’s
remark about Jimmy being the best pig gelder in the county.

“Jenny,” Monsey
called down a hall. “Come and help me with the bath.”

“Maybe we
should geld him?” Aloysius threw out. “He looks just a bag of
bones.”

“Ah no,” the
farmer objected mildly. “Jenny has her heart set on him.”

“Jenny,” Monsey
called, “your young man is in the bath.”

Peter stepped
into the tub and sat down. The water was luke-warm. “I’ll have a
second kettle in a minute,” Monsey fussed, “and then we’ll get you
a nice breakfast.”

“Out you go
boys. You have lots to do. Leave him to us now,” she instructed,
shooing the men out of her kitchen. They went reluctantly with dark
looks towards Peter.

“We won’t be
far away,” the farmer offered.

Jenny came to
the door. First she hesitated. Then she ran to Peter. “Peter are
you all right? They didn’t hurt you dearest?”

As she asked
her eyes searched him for any sign of injury.

“No Jenny. I am
O.K. Just a bit shook up.”

“I’m not
surprised. The men who brought you are dangerous men.”

She began to
soap Peter and sing him a lullaby. Her mother poured in another
kettle and began to fry up a breakfast. Peter felt life coming back
into his fingers. The water was nice and warm.

“Take your
time. I’ll put a cup of tea in your hand,” Monsey fussed. “I’ll get
you a loan of some clothes in a minute.”

Jenny produced
a large towel from one of the closets and indicated to Peter to
stand up. She wrapped him in the towel and began to dry him down.
When Monsey returned Jenny helped her carry the tub to the
door.

“Aloysius!”
Monsey shouted.

Both Peader and
Aloysius appeared instantaneously.

“Put the bath
water on the potato bed,” Monsey instructed and they disappeared
with the tub.

Peter dressed
in the wellies and rough clothes provided and sat himself at the
breakfast table. Monsey brought him rashers, eggs and black pudding
together with toast tea and jam. Peter wolfed it down and finished
off with a slice of Madeira cake.

The farmer and
his sons returned and Monsey put an equally large breakfast in
front of them. They all ate silently while Peter finished a mug of
tea and said nothing.

There was an
air of expectancy. They were looking at him. Serious faces. Then
Peter realized. He put down his cup. He was expected to do the
decent thing. But if he could just get out of the kitchen.

He stood up his
chair rasping on the rough floor, seeming loud in the silence.

“Jenny,” he
began.

Jenny came to
him with big expectant eyes. “Come outside for a minute,” he said
leading her towards the door.

The family
looked uneasily at the farmer, as did Peter. The farmer seemed
unconcerned.

Just as he
reached the door the two large loose Dobermans in the yard bared
their teeth at Peter but wagged their tails when Jenny said,
“Hush.”

It struck Peter
that there was nowhere to run.

“Jenny, it
appears we are to be married,” he began.

“Oh yes!” she
agreed and threw her arms around his neck.

The dogs
growled, disturbed by the sudden display but held their position.
Jenny pulled Peter back into the kitchen.

“He did it,”
she announced.

“He asked
me.”

She was
beaming.

“Oh darling,”
Monsey said and hugged Jenny.

“Well done
lad,” the farmer said, putting away his penknife.

The farmer and
his two boys vigorously shook Peters hand. Then the farmer put an
arm around Peter’s shoulder and led him into the parlour.

“We’ll have a
bottle of stout to mark the occasion. And a talk about the dowry,”
he said.

Peter settled
himself gingerly on the old couch. The room was dark and quiet and
seemed little used. There was a slight mustiness in the air. His
eyes took in the memorabilia of generations, photographs, dried
flowers and sports medals.

“Here we are,”
the farmer said, handing Peter a poured glass of stout. “Good
health!” he added and took a sup of his own. Politely Peter took a
sip.

“Now young man,
I was young once,” the farmer said with a gruff heartiness, sitting
himself opposite Peter. “You may be thinking Peter, go along with
the old fool and when he lets me go, I’m off.”

Peter grinned
weakly and said nothing. These were his thoughts exactly.

“The men who
lifted you Peter. They work for money and can do it anywhere,
anytime. Do you understand that?”

Peter nodded
glumly.

“They are good
friends of mine Peter, professionals, always ready to oblige.”

The farmer let
his words sink in, taking another swig, which almost emptied his
glass.

“Now Peter,” he
continued. “I understand the situation you are in. You should
understand mine. My standing in the community and so on, I must see
that my daughter is taken care of. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Peter
nodded again. His head was beginning to hurt.

“Well I don’t
expect miracles Peter. You marry Jenny and you have your baby. Give
it a couple of years. Try to make her happy. I can’t ask more than
that. If it goes wrong after that, well it’s not in my hands,
understood, marriages don’t last forever these days. I understand
that. But you treat her right and decent. Understood. Jenny is very
good at being agreeable. You could do worse you know.”

“You mean I
could divorce her in time?” Peter stammered.

“Ah, now boy.
There’s no divorce in this family. But to be sure there is many
living together but living separate lives. Who knows? There is one
thing though.”

“What?”

“Don’t ever hit
her. She’s my darling girl. Hit her and it’s to the pigs for you
boy.”

The farmers
voice had turned cold, pathological.

“Understood,”
Peter gulped.

“Now to the
dowry. I’m not rich Peter. But you are well set. So you will not be
needing much of dowry, now will you?”

“I suppose
not.”

“No.
Considering the position, that is Jenny’s condition, Monsey and me,
we think that it would be a good thing for you and Jenny to marry
quickly, discretely.”
“Discretely?”

“Yes. Monsey
thinks Rome. A lot of young couples go to Rome these days. Cuts out
the fuss, you’d agree?”

“Yes.”

“Good, the
dowry will be that I’ll pay for the trip and the honeymoon.”

Resignedly
Peter drank his glass of stout. The farmer called in the family and
they opened more drinks. Aloysius produced a bottle of Paddy
whiskey. The farmer remembered some poteen and sent Peader out to
the barn to get it.

With a couple
of whiskeys on top of the stout Peter began to cheer up. With the
money he’d get from the AF deal, a bit of flexibility from Jenny
and he’d be all right. The farmer would be happy once he married
her and he did not hit her, after that she’d be on her own. He’d
always liked her. Then depression hit again. What about his Janet,
this situation would take some explanation.

Jenny snuggled
up beside Peter. He remembered what he had found attractive about
her. Her breasts, and she had soft rounded figure and a warm face.
Her perfume, he could buy her a more expensive bottle. And she had
seemed willing to try anything he suggested. A great laugh in bed.
What the hell, worry about things when he was back home, clear of
these people? After the third whiskey he put his arm around her and
they all beamed at the happy couple.

The farmer was
regretting persuading Peter to try the poteen. Monsey suggested
they put him to bed.

“I have to get
home,” Peter protested.

“Nonsense,”
Monsey contradicted. “Sure it’s still early.”

“Will you take
Jenny with you?” the farmer cut in.

“Of course.
I’ll have to introduce her to the family,” Peter said trying not to
slur his words. His legs gave in and he slumped back on the
couch.

“Don’t let me
down boy. My marriage is a terror to behold, but others can be
happy.”

“Don’t worry
I’ll marry her,” Peter slurred and kissed Jenny on the cheek. They
all relaxed and Peter felt his head swimming.

“Let him sleep
it off on the couch,” Monsey suggested ignoring the remarks about
her marriage. “Jenny fetch a blanket to cover him. He needs a
little sleep. I’d say he got precious little rest last night.”

Jenny took
Peter into the parlour and sat him on the couch.

Peter smiled
and touched Jenny’s cheek. “What a mess you have gotten me into,”
he whispered.

“You are the
one who took me knickers down Peter O’Byrne. I told you it would
cause trouble but you ignored me.”

“You seemed to
enjoy.”

Jenny giggled
and Peter kissed her neck. Jenny sighed.

“Come and show
me how you will be a good wife,” he suggested.

With a giggle
Jenny slipped in beside him and helped him to take off his
clothes.

Monsey heard
movements from the kitchen and smiled to herself. He might be
skinny but at least he was healthy.

Monsey put a
cup of tea in front of her husband who was listening to a farming
program on the radio. He was intent on writing down the pig prices
report from the mart. She pecked him on the cheek and he looked up
surprised but smiled. He’s a good husband Monsey thought. Sure
hadn’t he made it right for Jenny? Now it was up to Jenny and her
young man.

When Peter
awoke he was alone.

The house was
quiet.

He dressed and
went silently to the parlour door. One of the Doberman dogs was in
the hall and he lifted his head and looked at Peter. It opened its
mouth and made to stand. Peter quickly shut the parlour door, with
himself inside.

He went to the
window, yes it would open. Then he wondered where the other
Doberman dog was.

With a sigh he
went back to the couch. He was trapped. The farmer was probably
right. Those men could lift him at any time. He could either marry
the girl or look over his shoulder for the rest of his life. Pig
farmers in Kildare were not known for having forgiving natures. The
family would avenge itself. What a fool he had been.

He got back
under the blanket and lay still as Jenny came in with a steaming
mug of tea and a slice of Madeira cake.

“Daddy says you
can go when you want. That you are bringing me to meet your
people,” Jenny said.

“That’s right,”
Peter said.

He took the tea
and she kissed him. Jenny sat on the couch and watched him.

“You’ll stay
the weekend,” Peter said. “We have some people down, but there is
plenty room in the house.”

“Aloysius will
be disappointed,” Jenny said happily.

“Why?” Peter
asked through a mouthful of cake.

“He’s been
waiting with the other dog. Watching the parlour window. He bet
Daddy that you would make a run for it. He wanted a chance to feed
you to the pigs. Sometimes I think that boy is wicked.”

Peter sighed
and drank his tea. Jenny watched with adoring eyes. She had prayed
to the blessed virgin for deliverance and there he was. She made a
mental note to say an extra decade of the rosary that night.

It was another
hour before he left the parlour. Then the farmer insisted he walk
the land and see the farm. Monsey insisted Peter keep the clothes
she had lent him for the present. He could return them another time
and she would clean his nice clothes.

Jenny came out
dressed in her best frock. Its startling lack of taste and colour
combination made Peter clench his teeth. His mother would have
raised eyebrows. But then he thought, Jenny is a clever girl. He’d
have to teach her some style, who knows, it might be fun.

However Jenny
was unwilling to walk up the farm in her good clothes and Jimmy led
the way with Peter in tow, followed at a distance by Aloysius and
Peader following on holding the two Dobermans on leads.

Jimmy explained
pig farming with love and in great detail. Peter was never more
bored in his life.

Then he sensed
an opening and became fully alert.

Jimmy the
farmer was explaining his ambitions for himself and his two sons.
His intention was clear, it was to replace and rebuild his existing
piggery and replace it with the best in Kildare. One day he would
be the talk of the county and the biggest pig farmer.