Now and Then

by Mary O'Sullivan

  I could have said ‘ditto’ to that, but instead I sat there speechless. Ben had never told me he had discussed my father with Della.

  She lowered her head, refusing to meet my eyes.

  “Now that I’ve learned more about Ben’s background,” I said, “I think I’ll try to trace my own father. It may be important information for the children in the future.”

  “Your mother was obviously protecting you, Leah. Believe me, you need to think carefully about this. About whether you want to rake up the past. The truth isn’t always liberating.”

  “You’ve changed your tune very quickly. I thought you appreciated all this new openness Hugh stirred up. Why are you warning me? It’s as if you know something horrendous about my father. Do you?”

  “Of course I don’t. How could I?”

  That was true. Della Parrish had moved in very different circles to my mother, and probably to my father also. They would have had no reason to interact. My intrusion into the middle-class circle was an aberration that reverberated uncomfortably in our supposedly classless society. That discomfort still sat there, an unbreachable gulf between me and my mother-in-law.

  “Your mother was a lovely woman,” Della said. “You must miss her.”

  I wished Mam could be there to hear those words. I remember being so proud of how she had reacted with dignity when Della spoke down to her on the few occasions they met. In a way, they were alike, Della and Mam. Both the keeper of secrets.

  “I miss her every single day,” I said.

  Suddenly she smiled at me. “See the bottom drawer in the chest? The one with the lock and key.”

  I looked to where she was pointing and immediately thought of the locked drawer in Ben’s desk in Cowslip Cottage, containing the three bottles of anti-depressant. A cold feeling came over me. Had Ben locked his stash of pills away here when he had been a teenager? Just like he was doing now?

  “Young Ben’s secret place?” I asked. “For his private things?”

  “It was sacrosanct because it was where he kept his diary. Or I should say diaries. Something the psychiatrist in the Booly Clinic recommended for him. I have no idea how, but it worked, didn’t it?”

  “Did it?” I asked, flabbergasted yet again at Della’s ability to see things as she wanted them to be.

  Just then I heard a commotion as Ben and the children climbed the stairs.

  I stood up and loosened the belt on my jeans a notch. I would soon need the next size. I saw Della glance at my tummy, eyebrows raised, but I had no intention of confirming her suspicions before I had told Ben.

  The children burst into the room, cheeks glowing, followed by an equally shiny Ben.

  “We’re going to the village. For lunch,” Rob announced.

  “Pizza an’ ice cream,” Josh said.

  “Me too,” Anna chorused. “C’mon, Mom. C’mon, Della.”

  Della looked at me and laughed.

  “I think we had better leave the house tour until later,” she said. “We can’t miss out on pizza and ice cream.”

  I saw love for my children reflected on her face. I smiled at her and took her hand as she stood up. It was worth it to see the surprise on Ben’s face. I winked at him and the raised eyebrows were quickly replaced by a smile.

  That smile lasted through lunch, a visit to Howth Market, a stroll up to the Castle, and a brisk walk along Claremont beach so that the children could let off steam and the adults allow the stiff breeze blow away those trials and tribulations light enough to be carried on the wind.

  Dusk was already starting to fall by the time we packed the children into the jeep again. When I finished strapping them in, I sat into the front passenger seat, assuming Ben would drive. Della had driven her own car down to the village and was parked beside us. I saw that Ben was talking to her. He walked over to the jeep, opened my door, and leaned in.

  “Would you mind if I went for a quick walk along the cliff path? Just for old times’ sake. Best view in the world from up there.”

  “You won’t be too long, will you? The children are getting tired. Besides, we promised them we’d show them the lights in town.”

  “Sure. I’ll be an hour and a half. Tops. Mum is leaving me her car, so she’ll be travelling back with you.”

  I got out of the jeep and looked up at Ben.

  “Translation: you’re going to walk the loop. It will take two hours because you will stop to take photos of Ireland’s Eye and Lambay Island. Despite the lack of light.”

  Ben grinned. “Well guessed.”

  “No, Ben. It’s not a joke. You’re just after a heart attack. Please don’t go too far. And don’t climb.”

  He gave me a peck on the cheek, turned his back and strode away.

  I was still looking after him, wondering if I should go and drag him back, when Della got into the jeep.

  “He’s looking so well, Leah, don’t you think? Thankfully the ‘revelations’ have not had an adverse effect on him.”

  She threw a furtive look in the children’s direction. They were all too full of pizza and fresh air to bother listening to the conversation in the front of the jeep. I tied my safety belt, then turned to my mother-in-law. There was pleading in her eyes. A need for reassurance. I made a snap decision.

  “Della, I think you should know that the reason Ben has taken the news of your brother George so well is that he has known about it for a long time.”

  I started the jeep and concentrated on driving back to The Parrish House. The children chatted amongst themselves but not a word passed between Della and me until we pulled up outside her house.

  “How long have you known?” she asked me.

  “Since Hugh came back from Wexford. Just about the same time as you.”

  She got out of the car without saying a word. I followed on in silence, knowing that I had already said too much.

  CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

  Ben could not help but smile when he saw Leah and Della sit side by side in the front of the jeep. It looked like peace had broken out between them. Or tolerance at least. He waited until the jeep disappeared from sight, then he turned back and walked to his mother’s car. Traffic was building as he headed towards town but he should still make his five o’clock appointment with ease. He had travelled this route so often in the past he knew several shortcuts if needs be. He was casually dressed. Wearing a suit would have aroused Leah’s suspicion. The last thing he needed.

  It was just gone ten minutes to five when he drove onto the familiar street and parked in the lot at the back of the building. Concentrating on finding a space, he had not noticed the changes to his former workplace until he walked around to the front door. The big feature window with Walton, Walton & Meade, Architects stencilled in gold lettering, had been replaced by a revolving door, above which a discreet sign read Walton Architects & Design. Ben frowned. Edward Meade must have been put out to pasture. Della had not mentioned it. But then he had not told his mother he was coming to his former workplace.

  He pushed through the door and into a bright reception area, all glass and mirrors. Neither the old reception desk, nor the old receptionist, were anywhere to be seen. A young woman, dark-haired, groomed and manicured to perfection, sat behind the semi-circular counter, a meticulously shaped eyebrow raised as she looked at Ben.

  “How may I help?”

  “Ben Parrish. I have an appointment to see Mr Walton.”

  “Oh! Yes, Mr Parrish. Mr Walton is meeting with clients at the moment and he apologises for the delay. He’ll see you shortly. Would you like a coffee while you wait?”

  “No, thank you.”

  “Take a seat, then. You’ll find reading material on the coffee table if you want it.”

  The first five minutes of waiting he spent looking around, taking in the changes in the decor. No wonder Edward Meade had gone. He would have found the feature black wall and modern art unbearable. It was edgy, Ben thought, but not very original. He spent the next five minutes flicking throu
gh a few of the design magazines. He checked his watch. He had been waiting for ten minutes and getting anxious. He would give it another five and then remind Ms Raised Eyebrow at the desk that he was here. He stood to stretch his legs. It would have been good to walk along the cliff path. So much of his youth had been spent there. He knew every twist and turn, every rise and fall of that walk. Each ebb and flow of the tide that had called to him so often. A soothing voice when the noise of his thoughts had been too raucous to bear. The soles of the trainers he was wearing squeaked as he walked on the polished concrete floor. Embarrassed, he sat. And waited. For another ten minutes. He was worrying now that Leah might ring, fussing to know if he was alright. He took out his phone and switched it off.

  A door at the opposite end of reception opened. Ben saw Garry Walton usher a couple out of his office and accompany them as far as the front door. He looked away. Garry was an upstart. A prick of the highest order who would not have been employed there except that his father, Charles, owned the company. Ben felt his anger rise as he remembered how Garry Walton had never pulled his weight on any project, told tales to his father, blamed others for his mistakes, came and went when it pleased him. He took deep breaths. Garry didn’t matter. It was Charles he was here to see. A gentleman. A great friend to Dad when he had worked here.

  Garry approached the couch where Ben was sitting. He must be thirty now but still looked mid-twenties. The swagger was new though. He held his hand out, and Ben stood and shook it.

  “Ben! Nice to see you. Sorry for the delay. What can I do for you?”

  “Nothing, Garry, thank you. It’s your father I’m here to see.”

  “Dad? You’re a bit late then. He retired six months ago.”

  Ben started. Fuck! True, when he rang to make the appointment, he had asked to see Mr Walton. But he had meant Charles. Not the poor excuse for a Walton standing before him now. Why had Mum not told him Charles had retired?

  “I’m surprised your mum didn’t tell you. She was at his leaving do.”

  It took all Ben’s self-control not to show his anger. He forced a smile.

  “Really? And I see Edward Meade’s name is gone off the sign. Is he retired too?”

  “He is. About time. Edward’s ideas are very last century. So, how are you? I believe you had a caving accident recently.”

  Jeez! How did he know? Paircmoor was a whole world away from here.

  “I’m very well, thank you, Garry. I’ll be getting back to work again.”

  Garry stared at him. From top to toe. From windblown hair to sandy trainers. Ben cringed, deeply regretting his decision to come here at all.

  “As you can gather, Ben, I’m at the helm now. My focus is on the top end of the residential market. You know what they say, every recession throws up new millionaires. It’s certainly true. And they’re spending on their des res. No expense spared.”

  “Well, congratulations. Glad to hear the company is thriving. I –”

  Garry’s hand shot up to stop Ben finishing his sentence.

  “Ben, if you’ve come here to ask for a job, I’m sorry. The answer will have to be no. I respect your skill set, but it wouldn’t fit with our current profile. I explained all that to your mother only a few days ago.”

  Ben shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket. Otherwise he might have punched Garry Walton in the smug face. He shook his head.

  “No, no, Garry. Actually, I have plans. I’ve been head-hunted by an American firm.”

  “Oh! Good luck then.”

  “I just dropped by to say hello to your father for old times’ sake. Do please tell him I was asking for him.”

  Garry pulled up the cuff of his shirt and looked at his watch. A Rolex from what Ben could see.

  “Sorry,” he said. “Must dash. I’ve a planning meeting to attend. Drop by if you’re around the area again.”

  Then he was gone in a flurry of self-importance.

  Ben left, eyes cast down, avoiding the interested stare of Ms Raised Eyebrow.

  Traffic was heavy when he drove out onto the street. He would be late back. Leah might be worried enough to drive down to the village when she got no answer from his phone. He turned it on. The lesser of two evils.

  All the way back, his anger simmered. Why had his mother had not told him Charles Walton and Edward Meade had retired? Or that she had canvassed for a job for him? She could have saved him humiliating himself. And why had she mentioned the ‘caving’ accident in far-off Paircmoor? On another planet. Was everyone in the country talking about Ben Parrish, he of the sandy trainers and obsolete skill sets? He imagined Della begging Garry-pigging-Walton. Asking him to give her poor, half-mad, half-drowned, half-alive son, a job. Please, please, please, take him. Nobody else will. And Garry had said no.

  Ben shook his head in amazement. His mum was only paying lip service now to the Hugh-driven policy of openness and honesty. The fact was, she’d had no alternative as far as acknowledging her suicidal older brother, George Roache, was concerned. Hugh had dragged George’s sad spirit back from his place of peace. Exposed him to the scrutiny and censure of the next generation. And for what? Truth? It was certain Della still held a headful of other secrets she would never reveal. All day, every day, she had to guard each word she said in order to protect her cache of secrets. No wonder she was so uptight. So controlled. She was the obsessive keeper of secrets. Another victim of the Roache propensity towards insanity.

  His phone rang. It was Leah. He was stuck in a line of traffic, six kilometres outside Howth. He was humiliated. Angry. He turned off his phone.

  It was dark outside and getting very windy. Echoes of a stormy night in Paircmoor when Ben had gone for his ill-fated run. I shivered and then had a stern word with myself. My husband was no longer the distraught man he had been on that night. Eleven nights ago. Such a short length of time to pull himself up from the depths of despair that had driven him towards the raging tide.

  “He’s gone for ages.” I said to Della.

  She was making coffee for us both. Getting out cups and saucers. Milk in a jug. No mugs or milk cartons on The Parrish House table. The twins were upstairs, having a nap, while Rob was in Hugh’s room reading one of the dozens of comics Hugh had hoarded there since his boyhood days.

  “It’s a long walk, Leah,” Della said. “And you can be sure he’ll meet people he knows along the way.”

  “Hmm. I suppose.”

  I looked at my phone. It sat on the table in front of me. I knew Ben would be annoyed if he felt I was keeping tabs on him. I was. It was too soon after ‘the incident’ to have him out, alone, in the dark, on a clifftop. I picked up my phone and keyed in his quick dial number. It rang. At least he had it turned on. Then it stopped ringing. I rang again. Straight to voicemail.

  Della put my coffee in front of me.

  “I don’t know what’s going on,” I said. “His phone was ringing but then it suddenly stopped. I wonder if I should drive down the village. Make sure he’s alright.”

  She sat down opposite me and began to slice the cake she had brought to the table.

  “Just sit there and drink your coffee while the children are asleep. Getting them all ready for bed before you travel was a good idea, but exhausting. The twins are little firecrackers, aren’t they?”

  I laughed. That was a polite way of describing the hyper behaviour of the excited pair. They had giggled and wriggled their way into their nightclothes.

  “You could, of course, stay the night. No need to disturb the little ones. Let them sleep on.”

  I heard the note of yearning in her voice. I understood. This big house must be very lonely for her with nothing but echoes from the past to fill the empty rooms. And what a wonderful home it would be for the children. All three, or maybe four, of them. Earlier, Della had brought me from room to room, from the study to the drawing room, dining room, the five bedrooms. She had stuffy names for rooms that were, in fact, light-filled and full of potential. I could not help imagin
ing the changes I would make, the colours I would introduce, the life and laughter the children would bring to The Parrish House in Howth. The house which needed to again be a home. But the decision was too big to rush into. And it would have to be made by Ben and me. Alone.

  I smiled at Della. “Next time I’ll make sure I pack for a sleepover. They would love that.”

  “Thank you,” she said. “Thank you so much.”

  The key rattled in the front door. I breathed a sigh of relief as Ben came into the kitchen.

  “I was getting worried about you,” I said.

  “Sorry. I met a few people I know. I was chatting.”

  I exchanged glances with Della. She had been right and I had been unnecessarily worried.

  “Mum, I bumped into Garry Walton. He told me his father and Don Meade have left the company. Big changes since I was there. You never told me.”

  “I forgot what with one thing and another.”

  “You forgot you were at Charles Walton’s retirement party? You must be getting a bit bothered, Mum. Anyway, where are the kids? We’d want to be hitting the road.”

  I sensed tension between Della and Ben. I stood up. I would go get the children, give them their supper, go through their bedtime routine with them and then put them in the jeep. That should give Ben and Della plenty of time to sort whatever was bothering them.

  I was just to the top of the stairs when I heard Ben’s footsteps behind me. I turned to look at him and he was smiling. Relaxed. I realised then that I was the uptight one.

  Because the children were already in their nightclothes, it took only thirty minutes to feed and take them to the bathroom. They were very much awake and excited about driving through the city to see the Christmas lights.

  “I’ll be down to Paircmoor soon,” Della said, as the children hugged her.

  “Why don’t you stay for Christmas?” I asked.

  “Thank you, I’d love that. But I’ve already promised Hugh I’d go to him. Next year. Maybe Hugh and Piper could come to Ireland and we’ll all have Christmas together. It would be fun.”