Tara Road (37 page)

She parked in the forecourt and looked up at the windows. Behind one of those sat Bernadette who was going to entertain Danny's children to tea this afternoon and get to know them, tell them about the new half-sister or brother that would be born. Would she call Danny darling or even sweetheart? Would she upset them by putting her hand on his arm?

They weren't going to like her no matter what she did. There was no way she could get it right. Annie and Brian wanted what they could never have because Bernadette existed. They wanted things to be the way they were.

Her name was Bernadette Dunne. That much Ria did know. The children had told her. The name was stuck there at the back of her mind. Like a weight, a very heavy object.

Ria went to the list of bells. There it was. Dunne, Number 12, top floor. Would she press it? What would she say? Suppose Bernadette let her in, which she very probably would not, what on earth would Ria say? She realised that she hadn't thought it out at all, she had come here purely on instinct.

So she paused and moved back a little and while she did a woman came along and went up to the row of bells. She pressed Number 12.

A voice answered. 'Halloo!' A thin young voice.

'Ber, it's Mummy,' the woman said.

'Oh good.' She must have pressed a buzzer because the door snapped open.

Ria shrank back.

'Are you coming in?' The woman was pleasant and a little puzzled at Ria dithering and hovering there.

'What? Oh no, no. I've changed my mind. Thank you.' Ria turned to go back to her car but first she looked hard at Danny's new mother-in-law. Small and quite smart, wearing a beige suit and a white blouse, and carrying a large brown leather handbag. She had short well-cut brown hair, and copper-coloured high-heeled shoes. She looked somewhere between forty and forty-five. Not much older than Ria and Danny. And she was Bernadette's mother.

Ria sat in the car. It had been very foolish to come here and upset herself. Now she was too shaky to drive. She would have to sit in this car park until she felt calm enough to move. What had possessed her to come and realise that Mrs Dunne visiting her pregnant daughter was of their generation, not an older woman like her own mother or Danny's mother?

How did Danny rationalise this to himself? Or was he so besotted that he didn't even notice? She had not got very far along this road of thought when she saw the woman coming out of the big glass doors of Bantry Court. This time she was with her daughter. Ria strained forward to see. The girl had long straight hair, shiny and soft like an advertisement for shampoo. Ria felt her own hand go automatically to her frizzy curls.

She had a pale, heart-shaped face, and dark eyes. It was the kind of face you might see on the front of a CD of some folk singer. It was a soulful face. She wore a long black velvet sweater and a short pink skirt and childish black shoes with pink laces in them. Ria knew that Bernadette Dunne was twenty-two going on twenty-three and that she was a music teacher. She looked about seventeen and being marched to school by her mother who had found her playing truant. They got into a smart new Toyota Starlet and Bernadette's mother backed expertly out.

Ria found her strength and her car key, and followed them as they drove out of Bantry Court. She simply had to know where they were going, nothing else mattered. The two cars went slowly in the morning traffic through the crowded streets, and then the one in front indicated and stopped. Bernadette leapt out and waved as her mother went to find a parking place. She didn't look remotely pregnant yet, but possibly the big floppy sweater hid that. Ria noticed where she was going. A big, well-known delicatessen. She was buying the supper for her future stepchildren. She was going to make a spread for Annie and Brian Lynch tonight.

Ria ached to park her car on the footpath, leaving its hazard lights on, and run into the shop. Then she would point out the vegetarian pate that Annie would like, the little chorizo sausage that was Brian's current favourite, and nice runny Brie with bran biscuits for Danny. Or else she could just stand there and get drawn into conversation with this girl, as people do in shops.

But it was dangerous. Possibly Bernadette had seen a picture of Ria and knew what she looked like. And anyway her mother would be back shortly to help and advise about the purchases. She would recognise Ria as the dithering woman outside Bantry Court. What kind of a mother was she anyway, encouraging her daughter in breaking up another man's family, having a baby with a married man? Some help and example she must have been to Bernadette if this was the way things turned out.

But then Ria realised that it could not have been what that woman wanted for her daughter either. Possibly she had been horrified by it all, as Ria would be horrified if her own Annie were to get involved with a middle-aged married man. Possibly the mother hadn't been told that Danny was married at the start. And had then become suspicious.

Suddenly Ria remembered the woman who had telephoned her, the voice demanding to know if she were Mrs Danny Lynch. This was the woman. Danny had concocted some cock-and-bull story at the time, but had later admitted it. Ria would have done the same if Annie were to be involved with a married man. She would have called the house to check if his wife really existed. To speak to the enemy. This woman probably loved her daughter too. She would have wished for a boyfriend who was young and single. But who could know what a daughter was going to do?

Was seeing Bernadette better than not seeing her? She sat in the car biting her lip and wondering. Possibly better. It meant that now there was no more imagining. It had cleared that area of speculation from her mind. It didn't make it any more bearable that she was so young. Or forgivable.

There was a knock on the car window and Ria jumped. For a mad moment she thought Bernadette and her mother were about to confront her. But it was the anxious face of a traffic warden. 'You were not even thinking about parking here, were you?' she asked.

'No, I was thinking about men and women and how they want different things.'

'Well, you chose an extraordinary place to sit and think about that.' The warden looked as if she were itching to take out her notebook and issue a ticket.

'You're right,' Ria agreed. 'But these thoughts come on you suddenly. However I'm out of here now.'

'Very wise.' The traffic warden put her notebook away regretfully.

At noon Ria telephoned Marilyn.

'Nothing wrong, is there?' Marilyn's voice sounded anxious.

'No, I just wanted to check that it's all still on track at your end, that's all. I'm sorry, is it too early? I thought you might be up.'

'No, no. That's fine, I've just had a swim, this is a good time for me. So you're making all your plans?'

'Yes, yes I am indeed.' Ria's voice sounded very down.

'Nothing's changed, has it?'

'No, it's just something not connected. I saw the woman my husband is leaving me for today; she's just a child. It was a bit of a shock, you see.'

'I'm so sorry.'

'Thank you. I wanted to tell someone.'

'I can understand that.'

Ria's eyes filled with tears: it was as if this woman genuinely understood. She must reassure her that she wasn't going to be an emotional drain on her. 'I'm not cracking up or anything,' Ria began. 'I don't want you to get that impression, I just wanted to reassure myself that it's all going to happen, this business of going to Westville. You know, I wanted something to hang on to.'

'Sure it's going to happen,' Marilyn said. 'Because if it doesn't then I'm going to crack up also. I've had the most awful telephone conversation with my husband, such coldness, and bitter things we saidGCa and I don't want to tell anyone about it here because they'd pat me down and say it didn't matter. But it did.'

'Of course it did. How did it end?'

'He hung up.'

'And you couldn't call him back because it would only be more of the same.'

'Precisely,' Marilyn said.

There was a silence between them. Neither of them offered a consolation.

'What kind of a day are you going to have?' Ria asked.

'A busy one, I'm filling up every moment of time. It may not be healthy but it's all I can do. And you?'

'Almost exactly the same, no point in sitting down to have a rest, taking it easy as they all say. The pictures keep coming back to your mind if you start taking things easy, I find.'

'Yes, I find that's exactly what they do,' Marilyn agreed.

There was no more to say. They said goodbye easily, like old friends who have shorthand between them.

Ria made good her promise to have a busy day. She would clean out cupboards first; it was an ideal opportunity for some hard physical work. Now that a stranger was coming to live in her house all those long-promised clearances would be made. Most of Danny's things were gone already, but she would get the last lot out now. There would be no sentimental pausing to remember when times were better. It would be as if she were part of a removals business.

She began with the big airing cupboard in the bathroom. There were still some of his pyjamas, socks and old T-shirts. She was not going to look after them; let Bernadette find the space for them now. All were neatly folded and placed in one of the specially bought carrier bags with handles. Danny could not say that she had flung them into a garbage bag, they were as carefully arranged as if he were taking them on a vacation. She included old sports towels of his, a winter dressing gown, a shabby track suit and some very out-of-date swimming trunks. He would not thank her for these things but still he could not fault her.

Then she telephoned her mother and asked her to come for lunch.

'Have you got over this nonsensical idea of emigrating to the USA?' Nora Johnson asked.

'Two months' holidays, Mam, a rest, a change, it's exactly what I need. Do me all the good in the world.'

'Well, it's certainly cheered you up a bit,' her mother admitted unwillingly.

'Come up to me, Mam, I need your help. I'm sorting out the kitchen cupboards, it needs two.'

'You're mad, Ria, you know that, clinically mad. Imagine tidying the kitchen cupboards at a time like this.'

'What would you prefer, that I get Danny arrested for not loving me any more? That I lie on a long sofa and weep?'

'No.'

'All right, I'll make us a great energy-giving soup and we'll have it as a reward after an hour-and-a-half's work.' Ria was killing two birds with one stone. Her mother would need explanations and reassurance that this was not a mad endeavour. What better time to do it than while they were sorting out her kitchen?

She was utterly exhausted when it was over. But at least her mother was placated, reassured of the sanity of the enterprise, cordially invited to come out and visit Westville and also had helped in the clearing out of kitchen cupboards.

But still Ria would not stop, she wanted to wear herself out. She didn't want to lie wakeful in that big lonely bed tonight and think of Danny and that child asleep in Bantry Court. She wanted to fall straight into a weary sleep the moment she got there. So after her mother had left Ria called Gertie. She was another who needed a one-to-one explanation of what Ria was doing. Better by far to do it while they were working. 'Gertie, I know I sound like the Diary of a Mad Housewife but I don't suppose that if you could get away you could give me two hours this afternoon? It would be such a help. I need to polish all the silver, wrap it up and put it into the bank. Marilyn doesn't want the responsibility of having it around when she comes. And anyway I suppose I'll have to divide it with Danny later so it's no harm that it's all put away.'

'I'd love to, because I want to talk to you about something else, and it's fairly quiet here just now. I could come up now, straight away?'

'Great, and listen, Gertie, I can give you twenty quid. It's worth that to me, honestly.'

'You don't have toGCa'

'No, this is a professional agreement; you're doing me a service.'

Gertie came, pale as ever, eyes darting anxiously round her. 'There's nobody here, is there?'

'No one but me.'

'You know what I wanted to tell you. This place you're going to, I looked it up on the map. It's only about thirty miles away from where Sheila lives.'

'Sheila? Your sister? Isn't that marvellous.' Ria was delighted. 'I'll be able to see her.'

Gertie wasn't so pleased. 'You'd never tell her, would you, Ria? You'd never let anything slip?'

'About what?'

'About me and Jack. You know, about the situation?' Gertie's eyes were haunted-looking.

Ria felt such a wave of pity for her friend that she could hardly speak. 'Of course I wouldn't, Gertie, you know that.'

'It's just that you being out on your own there and a bit low and everything after all you've been through, you know the people confideGCa?'

'No, Gertie, I wouldn't confide, believe me.'

'It's hard to say this, Ria, but you see it sort of keeps me going that Sheila envies me; nobody else does. It's nice to hold on to the fact that my smart sister who went out to the United States thinks that I have a great life back here, handsome husband, terrific family, great friends and all.'