Authors: Jean Grainger
Juliet’s heart was racing as the coach pulled up to the front door of the Hotel Killarney. The five star hotel sat peacefully on the lake shore surrounded by mountains. Conor got off first, asking everyone else to hold tight for a few minutes until he got the rooming list. Dorothy was gathering up her belongings and exuded impatience from every pore. She always wanted to be first off the coach, but for what reason Juliet had absolutely no idea.
Conor reappeared. ‘OK folks. Bert you’re in 102, Ellen 103, Dylan 104, Corlene 105, Patrick 106 and Anna and Elliot 107.’
Dorothy was just about to interrupt him to say they had not been allocated a room when Conor smiled at her.
‘Dorothy and Juliet, if you two could just hold on for a second I need to explain a small adjustment to the rooming list. Nothing to worry about,’ he added, giving one of his infectious grins.
They followed him into the hotel lobby where Conor explained the itinerary for the following day to the rest of the group. Dorothy stood beside Juliet wearing a face like thunder and muttering out aloud, ‘I don’t know what kind of stunt he’s going to pull, but I will not pay one extra cent for a second room. That’s for certain.’
‘Well I’m sure there is nothing to worry about Dorothy,’ Juliet began, ‘I mean Conor knows what he’s doing.’
Dorothy glared at her and snapped, ‘Don’t be so ridiculous Juliet. These people are always looking for the angle. Well, he is not dealing with an amateur pushover here. When he comes back, just leave the talking to me. You would end up agreeing to anything just to be nice.’
As she watched the porter removing the suitcases from the boot of the coach, Juliet could feel ice cubes churning around her stomach. She needn’t have worried, however: Conor dealt with the situation perfectly.
‘Well ladies,’ he began, ‘I didn’t want to be explaining this in front of everyone in case they all started asking for it, but I want to let you know that GTR has offered a room upgrade to you Dorothy by way of recognition for your loyalty to the company all these years. They have assigned you a junior suite on the top floor. For the duration of your stay here, you will have that suite at no extra cost. Room service is also included.’
For once, Dorothy’s face showed something other than disdain.
‘Well, I’m sure GTR appreciates my continued custom. I
have
taken many tours with them, so I’m probably one of their most important clients,’ she said smugly.
‘That was certainly the impression I got from the message they left for me,’ Conor agreed.
‘Now Juliet I have to tell you, that like myself, you are in an ordinary room with no obvious perks. Handing her the key, he gave an imperceptible wink.
‘Oh she’ll be fine,’ Dorothy replied, ‘any hotel room is a treat for Juliet. Isn’t that right dear?’
Juliet chuckled inwardly at the condescension, so relieved at having finally made the break from this monstrous woman.
‘Oh yes Dorothy,’ she said, trying to conceal her glee, ‘I’ll be fine. See you in the morning!’
Before Dorothy had time to suggest that they meet for dinner Juliet was gone. She caught up with Conor on the stairs while Dorothy was being ushered to her suite by the manager.
‘Conor, I don’t know how you did it. I can’t thank you enough,’ Juliet gushed once Dorothy was clearly out of range. ‘I know the suite is probably much more expensive, but just tell me the cost and I’ll take care of it immediately. Honestly, you’ve no idea how relieved I am…’
Conor turned and put his big hands on Juliet’s shoulders. ‘Now you listen here to me. I want you to relax and enjoy the trip. The others are a nice bunch and they’ll be happy to have you join them as they go around, so long as herself is out of the picture. As for the room, it won’t cost you a penny.’
Juliet began to protest ‘But I can’t expect…’
Conor interrupted her in mock stern tones. ‘You can and you will. The manager here is a pal of mine and the suite was empty anyhow. I won a few bob off him a few weeks back at poker and he’s looking after Dorothy for me as a kind of alternative payment arrangement shall we say.’ Conor gave her a wink. ‘Consider it my good deed for the day OK? Now, not another word on the subject right, or my reputation as a hard man will be in tatters.’
Juliet’s eyes filled with tears. ‘You are one of the kindest men I have ever met. I just don’t know what to say.’
Conor blushed and gave an embarrassed smile. ‘Go away out of that,’ he replied and headed for his room.
As Juliet put the key in the lock, she heard a noise coming from further down the corridor, ‘Psst! Are you alone?’ a voice asked in a stage whisper.
Juliet saw the face of Patrick O’Neill emerge from around the door of the room across the corridor.
‘Em yes…Dorothy has another room. On the top floor so I…’ Juliet was shy around the big police officer.
‘Well get yourself down here girl. We’re having a little cocktail hour.’
Juliet threw her bag on the bed and crossed the corridor. In Room 105, she found Bert and Ellen sitting at a table in the bay window.
‘We’re actually drinking to save Bert!’ Patrick laughed. ‘Corlene has set her sights on him, so it’s not safe for him to be out alone.’
‘She sure does believe in the institution of matrimony. She is a pretty lady but I guess I’m just too old for chasing skirts anymore. A nice scotch on the rocks and an early night is my idea of excitement these days,’ Bert responded.
‘Now Juliet, what’s your poison? We got whiskey, beer and wine – take your pick.’
‘A glass of wine would be just lovely,’ Juliet replied. ‘You really are very kind to invite me.’
‘Nonsense!’ cried Patrick. ‘We’ve just been waiting for you to ditch old iron drawers.’
Juliet broke into peals of laughter at the perfect description of her travelling companion.
Patrick took a long slug of beer from the neck of the bottle and said, ‘Y’know Juliet, we’ve been feeling really sorry for you. How in hell’s name did you get stuck with that whining old bat?’
‘Oh Patrick,’ Juliet replied, ‘I know, I know. I mean I don’t like to speak badly of her, but it’s been so embarrassing. I never wanted you all to think she was speaking for both of us. Talk about the ugly American. She gives the rest of us such a bad name.’
‘Hey Ellen!’ Patrick said, ‘what about Anna? We should call her room and see if she wants to join us right?’
Ellen and Juliet had both noticed the heated conversation between Anna and Elliot earlier on, and it was obvious when she arrived back to the coach after the stop at Ladies View that things were anything but right.
‘Her room is just beside mine and I just might have a little bottle of something to add to the party down there so I’ll bring her back with me if she wants to join us,’ Ellen said, as she headed out the door. Stopping off at her room, she collected the six-pack of Guinness she had bought on impulse that afternoon. If only her family and friends could see her now. One week in Ireland and she’s taken to the drink!
She knocked gently on Anna’s door and, when it opened slightly, Ellen could see that the younger woman had been crying.
‘Oh Ellen, I’m sorry…I was just …Something…’ Anna began incoherently.
She had been hoping that Elliot would realise his reaction was crazy by the time they had booked into the hotel, but instead he had just dumped his bags and stalked off in the direction of the town. He hadn’t reappeared since. Anna was sitting on the bed, stunned, horrified and trying to assimilate the impact of the crisis when Ellen knocked at the door.
Ellen moved towards the little table by the window. ‘You can tell me to mind my own business if you like, but sometimes it does help to talk.’
Anna looked at this kind old lady and felt that if she was going to confide in anyone, then Ellen was as good a bet as she was likely to get. Slowly, and in between sniffles and gulps, Anna explained her situation. When she finished, she looked plaintively at Ellen. ‘So now what do I do? I don’t have a job, my family think I was crazy to have anything to do with Elliot in the first place. I don’t have a house, I mean how can I give this child anything it needs?’
Years later, Anna was to replay this scene in her head and every time she did she told herself how fortunate it was that the person who heard her story that night was Ellen O’Donovan. Another person might have railed against Elliot, or told her that in this day and age women had choices. They might even have berated her for being so stupid that she couldn’t see what was perfectly clear to everyone else.
Ellen fixed Anna with her clear blue eyes. ‘All any child needs is love. My father raised me on his own in a strange country where he had no support. It wasn’t easy and I’m sure there were lonely times, but he loved me with all his heart. And I loved him. Neither of us regretted a second of it and it will be just the same for you, my dear. Congratulations.’
As Anna dried her tears, she realised that her world had not just come to an end. Ellen announced, ‘I don’t know about you, but I could use a drink! There’s a little cocktail party going on in the Patrick’s room and I’ve been sent to fetch you. So how about we both touch up our make-up first, eh?’
Chapter 12
Despite spending an hour in Patrick’s room, where everyone had been so kind, Anna now felt exhausted and miserable. She was slowly acknowledging that she had made too many excuses for Elliot, but she still couldn’t bring herself to believe that he wouldn’t come around to the idea of the baby. The night wore on and there was still no sign of him, so Anna undressed and got into bed. She awoke at four in the morning, still alone. As she made a cup of coffee and watched the sun rise, she placed her hands on her still flat stomach and spoke to her child directly for the first time.
‘Your father is a cold-hearted shit. Everyone tried to tell me but I wouldn’t listen,’ she said aloud, ‘but your Mommy loves you enough for two. Don’t worry sweetheart. I’ll take care of you. I don’t know how exactly yet, but everything is going to be fine.’
As she boarded the coach, Dorothy asked in her usual acerbic manner, ‘I suppose we all have to wait for your husband yet again? This really is getting most tiresome.’
The normally apologetic Anna turned and looked her straight in the face.
‘No
Dorothy
,’ she replied, emphasising the older woman’s name. ‘I think we have all waited long enough for Elliot don’t you? Some things will never change, no matter how much you may want them to.’ Then turning to Conor, she said, ‘I don’t think Elliot is going to continue with the trip. I’m sorry, but it would be best if we just moved on.’
Despite being on the brink of tears, she remained composed and took her seat.
Ellen moved in to the window seat and offered the other seat to Anna. Anna smiled gratefully. ‘Ireland is a magnificent country, isn’t it? I’m really enjoying the trip so far,’ Ellen proffered. Her gentle voice had a soothing effect on Anna. She knew that Anna was fragile and that light rhetorical conversation was exactly what she needed.
‘Today is a very special day on our trip,’ Conor began, ‘we will be touring the Dingle peninsula, which is just spectacular. We will be visiting some Celtic and Early Christian sites, and of course we’ll be in the heart of the Irish-speaking part of the county. So, I know you’ll really enjoy it. As well as that, we’re going to visit the Blasket Islands, which is a rare treat. The weather out there can be very unpredictable and life on the island was hard for those who lived there. But despite all that, such a wealth of writing and art has been created there, it’s remarkable. There are no permanent residents there now, of course. They have all either emigrated or have come to live on the mainland. ’
Patrick was confused. He came to Ireland expecting lots of things but, most importantly, he wanted to feel like an Irishman. He remembered all the family get-togethers he had attended as a child – events that filled the young Patrick with patriotism for “the old country”. Listening to his uncle singing ‘Danny Boy’, and to his father and his friends telling stories of the “boys” and their noble struggle for freedom in the fight against the English. As a young police officer he began to make regular contributions from his meagre salary to NORAID, the organisation that supported the families of Republican prisoners, a subject he had hoped to raise during his conversations with people in pubs while he was on vacation here. If he was honest with himself, he wanted a little bit of gratitude, or if not that, at least a sense that he earned his badge as an Irishman and could take his place at the bar with his fellow countrymen as one of them. He wanted to be identified as culturally and socially different from the others on the coach. They seemed like nice people, but they weren’t Irish. They were just tourists.
So far, however, this vacation had been less than satisfactory. Conor seemed to have no animosity at all towards the British oppression and occupation of Ireland and seemed, very subtly, to have been able to get Patrick to agree with his calm and reasoned opinions. Outside the tour group, the only other person he had managed to have a proper conversation with in the past few days was Cynthia. She was something else. She seemed kind of quirky, and her background was strange to say the least. She had said she was Irish, lived here all her life, but was educated in England and appeared to identify with the age-old enemy more than she did with her own country. All her talk of horses and big houses had Patrick totally confused. On top of that, it seems she’s Protestant; the whole thing was a mystery but since he had kind of set himself up as an authority on all things Irish, he couldn’t ask anyone.
Corlene decided that if she couldn’t get Bert into some kind of romantic clinch today, then there was no hope. Granted he was an old guy, but hey, he was on this tour which meant he was rich, so he wouldn’t be the worst person to get stuck with. Corlene wasn’t too keen on dusty Texas, but beggars couldn’t be choosers, she reasoned. She had dressed with particular care that morning. Her leopard- print wraparound dress left nothing to the imagination; it would be a waste not to put the boobs paid for by husband number three to some practical use, she reckoned. Her vertiginous sandals caused the ever-diplomatic Conor to express some concern about her safety during the day ahead. Apparently, this Blasket island place was “a bit rough” whatever that meant! She wasn’t going to put on sneakers for anyone. They would look ridiculous, and most unflattering, with her dress. That Conor doesn’t know who he’s dealing with, she thought with a smug grin. She had been Homecoming Queen three years in a row, admittedly in 1977, 1978 and 1979, so she was used to walking in high heels. She had managed to wangle her way into sitting beside Bert on the coach today, but not before she noticed him trying to chat up that other old relic, Ellen, yet again.