Authors: Maeve Binchy
“Almost anyone in the world would be a better bet than Shane,” Elsa said.
Bobby Walsh knew more about what was going on than most people thought. But he didn't confront Rosemary with this information. Instead, he arranged to rent a flat for his son. It was nearer the city and would be handier for Carl going to the school where he taught. Nearer for Ania too. Little by little he had pieced it all
together from what this one and that one said. And mainly from what people didn't say.
Johnny in the exercise room, had told him most. And that new girl, Amy, who was dressed so oddly and doing Ania's job, she had revealed that the Polish girl had gone home in a rage because some old bat had thought she was the hired help at a party when the son of the house had invited her as his guest.
Bobby's face burned with shame, but this wasn't the time to face Rosemary down.
And Bobby knew something that nobody else knew. He knew that Carl and Ania were coming back on Saturday.
He had already texted Carl about the apartment. It was furnished. They could walk straight in when they got back. It was theirs for a year until they had decided where they would like to go.
Then Bobby would buy them a place. He was going to sell that big house by the sea. There were far too many steps. The estate agent was looking for a mews. He hadn't told any of this to Rosemary yet, but he would when the time was right.
The time was right on Friday. They were in the kitchen before dinner. Rosemary had come home with some mackerel.
“I thought we'd make that bloody woman's recipe,” she said.
“She's not a bloody woman. She's called Lavender and she's a helpful, kind person who's showing us how to
eat properly.”
“Okay, it's only a form of words.”
“Not a very good one,” he said.
“Don't come after me, Bobby. I've had a tough day”
“So have I.”
“You've
had a tough day? What have you done? You don't even go upstairs anymore!”
“True.”
“So tell me about your tough day.” She looked very angry.
“Well, I looked through what seems like a thousand flats on a laptop before choosing one to rent for Carl. Then I went through a tedious amount of description about this house with the intention of putting it on the market.”
“You are never thinking of selling this house!”
“Yes, that's exactly what I
am
going to do.”
“Without consulting me?”
“I was waiting for you to come home, Rosemary, before going ahead finally. Now that I've told you, I can call them.”
“Bobby, have you gone completely mad? You can't get a flat for Carl. We don't even know where he is.”
“I do, Rosemary. He's in Poland.”
“He's where?” She looked ashen.
“Yes.”
“He went after that little tramp. I don't believe it. It's impossible. He
must see
that.”
“She's not a tramp. She's his girlfriend.”
“Well, I may have spoken a bit in haste.”
Silence from Bobby.
“And I am prepared to admit this to Carl when he returns to his senses.”
More silence.
“So is all this silly protest over?”
“There's no silly protest.” He spoke slowly.
“So why wasn't I consulted about this?” She looked at him, horrified.
“Because you're not involved in this anymore,” Bobby Walsh said.
“Why?” Rosemary begged.
“You must know why by now,” her husband said sadly.
A couple of days later Fiona saw in the papers that the body of the young man had been identified as that of Shane O'Leary. The deceased had apparently taken a lethal dose of drugs and was identified by his mother due to a tip-off to the Guards. His father had died some years ago as a result of an accident in the construction industry.
Mr. O'Leary had been traveling on the Continent in Europe. His
family hadn't been aware that he'd returned to Ireland. He was the eldest of four boys. The premises where his body was discovered were a vacant flat in a house that was in need of renovation. It wasn't known how the deceased had come to be there.
Fiona read the short item over and over.
She hadn't known that Shane had any younger brothers. He had told her nothing about his father being killed. He said the old man had gone off to England and abandoned them all.
What had his mother thought when the Guards came to her door?
His brothers must still be young, at school even. How had they felt at the death of their absent brother?
She was puzzled that none of these questions meant anything to her. She didn't care about the answers. It was as if she was reading about a total stranger. Yet this was the man she had left home with to tour the world. The man whose child she had been expecting with joy.
Shane had hit her and she had miscarried, but even then she had believed he would come back to her and that they would spend their lives together. Had she been insane?
Although Fiona had not one feeling left for Shane O'Leary, she still had a lot of questions that needed answering.
Questions about herself. Like was she capable of having any normal relationship with any man whatsoever? She twisted her ring around and around on her finger. Nothing seemed real anymore.
She hoped that neither her mother nor Barbara would see the item in the newspaper. She didn't want to talk about it or even think about it anymore.
Father Flynn decided that he couldn't go through with this shebeen mentality about people smuggling drink into his hall. Either he was responsible enough to run a function or he wasn't. A wedding day was too important to let any question mark hang over it.
He read the terms of the recent Health Acts. All it involved was
that he applied for a license to the HSE, the Health and Safety Executive. They would grant it and then there would be no hole-in-the-wall behavior. Not everyone agreed with him.
Johnny said it would halve the price of drink if they got it on sale at a supermarket. James said that you never knew where you were with those guys. Brian might meet the bureaucratic official from hell.
Father Brian tried to discuss it with Fiona, but he could sense she wasn't interested. She was looking through him without seeing him at all or listening to what he said.
Molly and Maureen had got very satisfactory outfits in Big Day. It had been a great outing: very nice staff, with tea and sandwiches on the premises. They could have stayed there all day. They
had
more or less stayed all day. And the outfits weren't silly. They could be worn again and again at whatever functions turned up. Like a christening, maybe. They giggled happily.
At Big Day the owner had said they were very relaxed compared to a lot of brides’ mothers and grooms’ mothers. She wished that all her customers were so easy to deal with. So Maureen and Molly bought more and more and said it was the best day out they'd ever had.
But try as they might, they couldn't make Fiona interested in the garments they had bought.
Her mind seemed to be a million miles away.
Ania came into the clinic on Monday.
She looked for a long time at Amy, who was passing around mugs of coffee.
“You must be Saint Ania, the Polish girl,” Amy said eventually.
“And you are Amy, Peter Barry's daughter,” Ania replied.
“So, you're back. I go. Right?”
“I'm not Saint Ania. I am just so lucky that they will take me back.”
“Aw, go on. They're mad about you!”
“Did you like it here?”
“Yes, I did.”
“I came in through the hospital this morning. They're looking for people to work in A and E, taking records and notes to leave the nurses free to cope with what they should be doing.”
“Is that part of Frank Ennis's territory?”
“Yes, in that everything in the hospital is a bit.”
“But isn't he our natural enemy?” Amy asked.
Ania laughed. “I think I got back here just in time. You have nearly taken over already.”
Ania and Carl couldn't believe the new apartment that Bobby had arranged for them.
“We can't take this, Dad,” Carl said with tears in his eyes.
“And what did I work hard all my life for, if it wasn't to give you a place to live?” Bobby beamed with pleasure.
“But it's too much. Specially since you're going to sell the house and buy somewhere else. You don't want to have to shell out for this place as well.”
“We can pay the rent, Bobby,” Ania said. “I will just get a few more jobs. It's not difficult.”
“No, child, you continue to send your earnings to your mother. That's what you came here to do.”
“Oh, she's so pleased with everything, Bobby. If you could see what they're doing to her house! Even my sisters are pleased with me too. Which usually they are not.”
“Did you meet them all, Carl?”
“I did. They were very welcoming. At least I
think
they were. I couldn't understand a word anyone was saying!”
“Oh, they were, Carl, very welcoming indeed.”
Bobby cleared his throat. “Rosemary is very sorry about the misunderstanding …” he began. He saw Carl's face harden, but Ania laid her hand on his arm.
“Please tell her that it's all forgotten. In many ways it was all helpful. It forced us to do what we all wanted to do.”
“I'm not sure that Rosemary wants to move house, but it's going to happen. And she will get used to it. It's most generous of you, Ania, to see things so positively.”
“I have a lot to be positive about,” she said.
“Carl, I was wondering?”
“No, Dad, not yet. I don't have a lovely, positive soul like Ania.”
“You could grow one,” Ania said.
“Yes, and I might one day.”
“Or maybe soon, Carl, so that your father could enjoy more peaceful days in these busy, stress-filled times.”
“Maybe,” Carl said. But he had no intention of speaking to his mother.
Ania bought the material for Fiona's wedding dress. It was a cream and yellow Indian silk. It would be beautiful.
Fiona stood like a statue, raising her arms to be measured and for Ania to pin a kind of underslip that would act as a pattern for the real thing. She hardly said anything. She didn't ask Ania about the trip to Poland, about the new apartment, about what Carl had said when he arrived at her mother's house.
Normally Fiona would want to know every detail.
She didn't talk about her own wedding either. All the conversations that Ania started seemed to run into the ground. Yes, it was great to be getting married by Father Brian. Yes, the center sounded a terrific place for a wedding breakfast. Oh, indeed, many of the friends were coming from abroad. And certainly, the two mothers were having a good time.
Ania put down her box of pins. “Fiona, be honest with me. Do you want someone else to make your wedding dress?”
“No, Ania, how can you even think that?”
“So what is it, then?”
Fiona looked at her, stricken. “I can't marry Declan,” she said
suddenly. “I'm not a person who has any judgment about men. I can't go through with it.” She began to cry with heavy sobs.
“And what does Declan say?” Ania asked.
“He doesn't know.” Fiona wept harder.
“Well, you must tell him.”
“I can't.”
“You'll have to. I'm right in the middle of making him a waistcoat trimmed with the material of your dress. He
has
to know, Fiona. For heaven's sake.”
Carl had invited his friends Nora and Aidan Dunne to supper in the new apartment. Ania had cooked some salmon for dinner. Carl had brought her flowers. Life could not be better.
They were so nice, the Dunnes, and so fond of each other. You could see it immediately, the way they listened to each other's stories, touched each other's hands. Aidan was a patient at the clinic, so Ania had already met them there, but she had had no idea what interesting lives they had led. She sat and chattered happily as if she had been accustomed to entertaining like this all her life. At nine o'clock there was a ring at the door.
Ania went to answer the buzzer. Who could be coming to call at this time of night? She looked at the little screen. It was Carl's mother.
“Please excuse my not telephoning, but I know Carl doesn't want to see me.”
“It's not that, Mrs. Walsh. It's just that we have people here for dinner, you see.”
“It will only take a minute. I have something to say to you. I need not bother Carl.”
“Perhaps this is not a good time, Mrs. Walsh.” She could see Carl roll his eyes up to heaven.
“Tell her to go away,” he mouthed.
But Ania was too kind. “Come in, Mrs. Walsh, but it can't be for long. I hope you will excuse us.” She buzzed the door so it would open.
Ania returned to the table. “We'll offer her a glass of wine.”
“She deserves a boot up the arse!” Carl said.
Ania smiled apologetically at the guests. “Bit of a long story,” she said.
“We know a lot of it,” Nora said. “Should we leave?”
“No, please, no. I will take Carl's mother into another room and talk to her.”
“You don't have to do this, Ania. She behaved so badly”
“You were polite to
my
mother when you could not understand one word she was saying. I will be polite to yours.”
Ania ushered Rosemary Walsh into the bedroom where Fiona's wedding dress was hanging on the wall.
“And is this going to be … ?”
“For Fiona.”
“I see.” Rosemary didn't attempt to disguise her relief.
“Won't you have a chair?” Ania sat on the bed.
“One bed,” Rosemary Walsh said.
“That's right. I brought you in a glass of wine,” Ania said.
“I don't want any wine, thank you. I wanted to say that my words to you on the night of the party were wrong. I should not have said what I did. You were Carl's guest. I knew that. I behaved very badly.”
“You must have had your reasons.”
“No, looking back on it, I can't think what my reasons were.” Rosemary Walsh was at a loss.
“So that's all right, then, Mrs. Walsh.”
“No, it's not all right. I want you to tell my husband, Bobby, that he cannot sell our house. That you will come and live there with Carl and help with getting Bobby bathed and upstairs and everything.”