Twisted Love and Money (22 page)

“And?”
Ann-Marie was wide-eyed at the suggestion.

“And he had a
cup of tea and left.”

“Nana!”

“Don’t worry
child. I thought that would be the last of him. But he comes back
nearly ever night, late evening. Sits on his bike and watches the
entrance. Its a wonder he has never seen you in or out. Clearly he
is hoping to catch a glimpse of you.”
“I have been grounded by Dad. I only go in and out to school. The
chauffeur drives me. Mom let’s me use her Merc, the one with the
frosted windows. She prefers the Rolls for town. I have not noticed
Seamus at any time.”

“He comes in
the evening, so you probably miss each other. After a while he gets
off his bike and walks towards the gatehouse. He never knocks.”

“Has he come
again and again?”

“
I wondered should I call the police. But he just seems sad.
And the time I gave him a cup of tea he seemed so nice. Pity for
him that he has a crush on such a frippery empty headed thing like
yourself Ann-Marie.”

“I’m not
frippery.”

“Yes you are.
You have broken more hearts than I have had hot breakfasts and I
usually have hot porridge for breakfast.”

“I didn’t want
to break his heart, at least not yet. My parents don’t want me to
see him because he is just a courier. And that bitch Dorothy said
she would ring him for me. I bet she didn’t and lied to me. I don’t
care what he is, I liked him.”

“He’s got nice
manners,” Nana said approvingly. “And a lovely bum,” she added with
a cackle.

“Nana, behave
yourself,” Ann-Marie remonstrated.

After dinner
Ann-Marie left Nana at the fireplace and said she was going to
watch out for Seamus. There was a long upstairs room high in the
inverted “V” of the gatehouse roof. Sitting back in the shadows
Ann-Marie watched and waited. She had only her iPod for company in
the silent evening.

He came just as
the evening light was fading. Ann-Marie watched him; her heart
began to beat faster. He sat still on his bike for a long time.
Then he got off the bike and came to the railings. Dimly she
realized it was as if she was there. He was reaching through the
railings as if he was pretending she was there. As if it was like
on their date when he had reached through the bars and touched her
breasts.

Ann-Marie
switched on the light in the bedroom. The curtains were still open
and she peeped around at the corner, and then dropped the edge
quickly. He was staring up at the window, hands on his hips.

Then she
decided. She stood at the window side on, as if she was looking for
something in the room. Ann-Marie knew he would be able to see her
clearly.

Slowly she drew
her sweater over her head. Then she went to the window as if to
draw the curtain. She was clearly outlined in the window and she
pretended to struggle with the curtain, pretended it was stuck.

It was hard to
see out the window into the gloom with the light on. But she could
see his white face looking up. In his leather gear the rest of him
blended into the gloom.

Ann-Marie
turned sideways again and slowly took off her bra. She was very
proud of her young breasts, not that any man would have the
privilege of seeing them, but she felt somehow Seamus was a special
case. After all he had already got an eyeful that day of the Parade
when he opened the door of the cab.

She began to
towel herself with a pillowcase from the bed. If this did not make
him hers forever nothing would, she reasoned. She was too nervous
to look out the window.

Ann-Marie
jumped about an inch when the doorbell suddenly rang thinking, ‘Oh
God father’s come.’

“
Coming,” she shouted and hurriedly threw her sweater back
on.

As she flung
the front door open her heart stopped. Seamus stood on the step
filling the doorframe. He looked at her and seemed to have trouble
finding words. He reached towards her and she stepped into his
arms.

“What is it
dear?” Nana asked, coming around the door from the sitting
room.

“Oh it’s you?”
she added.

“May I come
in?” Seamus asked.

Nana looked
fierce but her heart was soft. “If anyone finds out, I’ll be thrown
out of this house.”

“Please Nana,”
Ann-Marie begged.

Nana
considered, better to have the two young ones in her company rather
than wandering around the laneways. “You can some in but on my
conditions.”

“Please,”
Seamus added.

“You can only
stay for half an hour and then you go. And no hanky panky, I stay
in the same room all the time and when you go Ann-Marie says
goodbye from here, not at the railings.”

They both
coloured, had Nana seen them messing on their date?

“Its a deal,
but for an hour,” Ann-Marie counter bid, and pulled Seamus in and
closed the door behind him. Now she had him. He was hers and nobody
was going to interfere.

“I’ll make a
cup of tea,” Nana offered and turned towards the kitchen.

Seamus’s lips
brushed the top of her hair.

“I’m afraid I
saw you at the window. I’ll fix that curtain for you.”

“Its all right.
It is just stuck,” Ann-Marie said uncomfortably.

“That is the
second time you have spied on me,” she added accusingly.

Seamus had his
hands around her waist. She seemed to stumble against him and his
hand slid against her bare skin inside the bottom of her sweater.
Ann-Marie turned her face up to his and he kissed her with
confident pleasure. She responded warmly and, almost with a mind of
its own, his hand moved up her side feeling her warm skin. His hand
trembled as he touched the bottom of her breast and slowly his
fingers came over her erect nipple.

He seemed to
tremble and hesitate, unsure what to do next. Ann-Marie pushed him
away. “Inside and sit down and behave, or else I’ll send you
away.”

“Don’t, I love
you,” he said hoarsely, anxious.

Ann-Marie
looked at him sharply. How could he mean it? She decided he did.
She pushed him into the living room.

Nana’s head
appeared around the kitchen door. “Sugar or milk?”

“Just milk
please,” Seamus said.

“Come and help
me Ann-Marie.”

Seamus stayed
the allotted hour and Nana made sure they sat apart. Being forced
to converse was new to Ann-Marie and she was amazed to find that
she, Nana, and Seamus got along fine with plenty of laughs.

As he made to
go, together they persuaded Nana that he could call again for a
further hour. The date was set for the following week at Nana’s
suggestion.

The lovers
parted in the hall doorway with one long lingering kiss. Nana came
and pushed him out and closed the door.

When he was
gone Ann-Marie danced around the room.

“I’m in love,
I’m in love.”

“Hush child.
Stay half an hour to be sure he is gone, then off with you.”

A quarter of an
hour later the doorbell rang again. With a frown of disapproval
Nana signalled Ann-Marie to stay put and let her answer the door.
The frown disappeared when she saw that it was Dorothy.

“Nana,” she
said, giving her a kiss. “I just dropped in on the way back to town
to have a quick chat. I’m on my way back to town.”

Ann-Marie went
to get the obligatory cup of tea and left their Nana to have her
chat with Dorothy. Then she busied herself tidying the kitchen.

Dorothy came in
to the kitchen. “Daddy said to send you home. You should go
now.”

Ann-Marie
shrugged; as far as she was concerned she was not speaking to her
sister.

“Ann-Marie,”
Dorothy whispered, “Are you not wearing a bra?”

“Mind your own
business,” Ann-Marie was stung to retort.

Ann-Marie threw
down the kitchen towel, stormed in to her Nana, gave her a kiss and
said good night. Dorothy decided she too would depart, and without
speaking to each other they left together. Nana said nothing, she
was used to the sisters quarrels.

In the dark
Ann-Marie ran back towards the house. Half way she stopped
abruptly, remembering in the chill of the evening that her bra was
on the bed in the gatehouse. Never mind she thought and ran on.
She’d get it another time. Then the thought, what would Nana think?
Then remembered. These days Nana slept downstairs.

Spreading her
arms she danced and skipped her way back to the house. Delighted
spic and span ran to greet her and they ran around the gravel
driveway until her mother called from an upstairs window for her to
stop her nonsense and go to bed.

Chapter
twenty-six

Dorothy drove
back to town and soon her thoughts were on the day to follow. Her
fingers gripped the steering wheel as her worries flooded in.

She sensed him
before she saw him. Dorothy had parked in her parking space in her
apartment block and was putting her key in the lock of the main
door. She swung around.

“Its me
Dorothy,” Jeremy said apologetic. “I got the key you gave me, but I
didn’t want to use it without your permission. I could see your car
was not there and no answer to the doorbell. I’ve been walking over
and back from the bar up the road every half hour, hoping you would
come home.”

Dorothy looked
coldly at him. She felt her hand shake so she pushed her key hard
into the door.

“We had better
go up. We can’t talk here,” she said. Her voice felt remote from
her. She felt pleased she was coping with the shock of seeing him,
but almost as if she was detached from and observing herself.

She let him
into the apartment. “I have the key,” he said, “It did not feel
right to go in I…”

“I feel like
hitting you,” Dorothy said, cutting across his start at another
explanation.

“You can if you
like,” he said meekly. “I’m sorry.”

“Where have you
been?” she demanded, slamming the hall door shut.

“I had to go to
America with David. We are back for a reception for the new Grafton
Street store. It opens soon.”

“America?”
Dorothy demanded, feeling rising anger at his apparent reason for
his return to Dublin.

“Yes America.
We run a very large fashion business. My stay in Ireland has been a
pleasant interlude, a break from the pressures. And a joy because I
met you Dorothy. But the real world pressures are out there. I
can’t walk away from them and my responsibilities. I can’t ignore
the demands of the greater business.”

“Bullshit.”

“Dorothy.”

“You used me
for your visit to your mother and then you ran back to your lover,
delighted with yourself that you had pulled it off.”

“Now that is
bullshit.”

“Is it?”
Dorothy slumped onto the couch and began to sob with her head in
her hands. Jeremy sat beside her and waited.

“Where is
David?” she asked, wiping a tear from her eyes and snuffling.

“Still in
America, we are trying to set up a West coast deal to distribute
our designs. We took over a group of dress shops, big stores. It is
very complicated.”

Dorothy dried
her tears, “What is it like out there?” she asked.

“Fantastic. The
atmosphere is a bit fraught, threatening but stimulating.”

“Atmosphere
Gay?” Dorothy asked with apparent friendliness.

“Gay, what do
you mean? Hell yes, it is a great place for boys. If you discount
the AIDS. But David and me are not like that. We stay close.”

“So I have
noticed.”

Jeremy wrung
his hands. “Sorry Dorothy I did not mean it that way. I meant…”

“How do you
know he is not out there getting AIDS?”

“Because we
trust each other,” Jeremy said, and then realized he had said the
wrong thing again.

A silence
descended between them. It seemed to grow.

“You can punish
me, if you think I am a bold boy,” Jeremy offered.

“You would like
that wouldn’t you. Ease your conscience, would it?”

“Forgiveness
Dorothy.”

“You never
rang, wrote or even sent a postcard.”

“You have to
understand Dorothy. I was with David. He is very possessive. I was
hardly out of his sight.”

“Did you make
love?” Dorothy asked forcing herself to hold his eye. He looked
down and then up again.

“David and me,
we are married, in practical terms Dorothy. David and I live
together as a couple. I try to discourage him. But I can’t say no.
It always hurts him so. Physically, that is in our physical
relationship, he always takes the... eh...initiative.”

“And you are
passive?” Dorothy asked.

“Mostly. When
we are in love I respond. At least I used to. Afterwards I always
feel so guilty. Sometimes I wake up suddenly. It is as if I can
hear Hell’s fires burning, waiting for me.”

“Hellfire is
for practicing Catholics Jeremy. It’s your early training. But you
are an intelligent man. No longer a child. You should have worked
out your true leanings by now.”

“I think it is
my catholic upbringing. It stays burnt on your soul, the values I
mean. Even if you reject the logic, the practice, the values are
hard to shift.”

“Only if you
believe in them Jeremy, do you believe deep down?”

“The fact that
I ran away from the priesthood does not mean I deserted all my
values.”

“And
Homosexuality?”

“If that is
your natural inclination, then it is a trial sent to test your
soul. It is not what you do, but whether you end up a lesser
person. You have to treat yourself as valuable.”

“Make me good
God, but not this year, is that it?”

“In a way. I
pushed it all down. Down deep inside me. When I came back to Dublin
it all bubbled back up again.”

“And when you
went to America with David.”