Dee shrugged. 'He's like his dad. They go along with whatever Julia wants because it's easier that way.'
Lisa rolled her eyes. 'Men; they do anything to avoid hassle, don't they?'
'You can't really blame them; I mean, it is Julia we're talking about.'
'She is a total control freak.' Lisa helped herself to a muffin from the cake tin on the table. 'I don't know how they put up with her.'
'Ronan just switches off. In fact, they both do,' Dee said as she peeled and crushed four cloves of garlic. 'They tell her what she wants to hear and then do their own thing anyway.'
Lisa looked unconvinced. 'You're still all going to a birthday tea at seven,' she pointed out.
Dee chuckled. 'True, but what harm is it? I'll probably be just as bad when Sam's grown up. By the time he's sixteen he'll be dying to move out!'
'He won't move far, though. He'll be back to eat and to drop off his washing.'
'No way,' Dee retorted, 'he can look after himself.'
'Yeah, sure, I believe you.'
Dee sighed as she poured some olive oil into a large frying pan and turned on the gas. 'Yeah, who am I kidding? I'll probably be even worse than Julia. You know, she still irons Conor's shirts.'
'She doesn't!'
Dee nodded. 'He says it keeps her happy, so why should he object.'
'I don't know how she gets time to do it all. I mean, there's the nursing home, the parish council, the Women's Institute.'
'The church flowers,' Dee reminded her.
'And she cooks, cleans and irons too!' Lisa shook her head. 'What a life. You know, when you and Conor marry he'll probably expect you to do all of that.'
'Who said anything about marriage?' Dee scraped the onions and garlic into the pan and stirred.
'Maybe that's what this tea is all about,' Lisa said, her eyes lighting up. 'Maybe he's going to propose!'
Dee looked at her, horrified. 'In front of his mum and dad?'
'Ah, so you don't mind the idea of a proposal, it's just how and when he does it you're worried about,' Lisa surmised.
'Lisa, haven't you got a nappy to change or puke to clean up?'
Lisa glanced at the clock and jumped to her feet. 'Damn, I didn't realize what time it was. I'd better go or Martha will murder me. She was supposed to go home ten minutes ago and she's got a hot date this evening – just like you!'
'Get out.' Dee shook her spoon at Lisa's fleeing back but she was smiling as she stirred the mince into the pan.
Lisa always made her smile. She teased and joked continuously but there was no malice in her and Dee had never seen anyone as good with children; such a shame that she had none of her own. And despite her constant smile and effortless good humour, Dee knew Lisa would give anything to have children.
It was never going to happen with Ger; at least, Dee shuddered, she hoped not. Ger Clancy was a waste of space and it was clear to everyone except Lisa that he was just using her. Lisa, however, couldn't do enough for him. She talked about Julia waiting on Ronan and Conor but she was worse. She would love nothing better than to move in with Ger and to clean up after him. Dee couldn't understand how an otherwise clever girl could be so gullible. Ger never took her out, saying he preferred to keep Lisa all to himself – but it was because he was mean. He said he preferred her cooking to any restaurant rubbish – but he was mean. And the couple of times Conor and Dee had met them for a drink, Ger had rigged it so that he only ever bought a round when the girls weren't having anything – he was mean.
Dee couldn't stand it. Ger had a reasonable job working in the council, he had his own house, and yet he lived off Lisa at every opportunity. Conor went mental one night when they went on to the local Chinese restaurant and Ger had chosen the cheapest food on the menu and then produced a calculator when they were splitting the bill. 'He argued with me because I'd had the spring roll and he'd only had the soup and it was twenty-five cents cheaper – twenty-five cents!' he'd told Dee.
Dee chuckled as she added chilli powder, chopped tomatoes and tomato purée to the pan. Maybe Sheila was right and they should have a night out. Lisa might meet someone nice and finally dump Ger. Though that was unlikely in a small town like Banford where everyone knew everyone else and there were few eligible men available. Still, they could always go into Dublin city and really do something special. Maybe Sam could even spend the night with Aunt Pauline; surely one night with the old dragon wouldn't kill him?
Anyway, she had noticed that Pauline was slightly less austere when Sam was around. She certainly wasn't the strict disciplinarian that Dee remembered from her childhood. Pauline had taken over when Dee's mother died of breast cancer when she was only nine and she was a very different person from her softer, younger sister.
She shivered slightly as she remembered times when all she'd wanted was a cuddle and what she'd got was a sharp direction to 'pull herself together'.
Her dad hadn't been much better. He'd been devastated when he lost his beloved wife and had been too caught up in his own grief to notice or care about his young daughter's feelings. As the years had passed, Arthur Hewson had become more remote, if that was indeed possible, and by the time he died just after Dee left school, she didn't feel as if she'd lost a father; rather, she felt as though she'd buried a loved but distant relative.
The phone rang, interrupting her reverie and, wiping her hands on a dishcloth, she hurried to answer it. 'Hello, Happy Days Crèche, can I help you?'
'Oh, hi, may I speak to Dee Hewson, please?'
'Speaking.'
'Dee, hi, my name is Don Reilly, I work for the Daily Journal. I wonder if I could talk to you about your comments on Forever FM?'
Chapter 3
It was almost five past seven when Dee rang the doorbell of the Fitzgeralds' handsome detached house in its own grounds on the hill overlooking Banford. As she waited, she turned to look at the twinkling lights of the village below with the harbour silhouetted in the background and breathed deeply. She loved living here. It was a small town where everyone knew everyone, but the anonymity of Dublin was less than thirty minutes' drive away; definitely the best of both worlds. The door was thrown open and Dee whirled around to see Julia smiling at her.
'Dee, darling, there you are. We thought you'd got lost.'
'Sorry, Sam was—'
'Conor and Ronan are in the living room, go on through.' Julia strode back down the hall towards the kitchen.
Dee sighed and went in search of the two men. They were standing by the fireplace drinking beer and chatting and in the moment before they spotted her, she had a glimpse of the unspoken closeness between father and son.
'Dee!' Ronan turned and smiled and came over to hug her. 'Don't you look lovely?'
She laughed. She had just swapped her customary jeans for a denim skirt so this was a slight exaggeration.
'What will you have to drink?'
'One of them, please.' Dee nodded at their cans. 'Hey, birthday boy, how are you?' she said, smiling at Conor when Ronan had left them.
'I'll be better once I've had my birthday kiss,' he murmured, pulling her into his arms.
Dee turned up her face to oblige and marvelled, as she always did, at how tiny he made her feel and, at five foot seven and nine and a half stone, that was an achievement. He was only three inches taller than her but he was broad and thickset and substantial, the kind of man that made you feel safe. She kissed him gently on the lips and when she drew back he protested.
'Is that it?'
'For now,' she murmured, and handed him a gift as his dad returned with her drink.
'Here you go, love.'
'Thanks, Ronan.'
'This is great, Dee, thanks.' Conor kissed her again and held up the shirt for his father's inspection. 'What do you think, Dad?'
'Very nice.'
'And the DVD, is it the one you wanted?'
'It certainly is. You should come over tomorrow night, Dad, and watch it with me.'
'I'm sure you'd prefer to w
atch it with Dee.'
She shuddered. 'Oh, no, I couldn't watch one of those blood and guts films; it would give me nightmares for weeks.'
'So are you doing anything tonight?' Ronan asked the couple.
Dee looked at Conor. 'What do you think? Would you be up for a wild night out in Banford's hotspots?'
Conor shook his head worriedly. 'It is a week night.'
'Live dangerously,' she urged.
He grinned. 'Okay then, a pint in Casey's it is.'
'You're as mad as each other,' Ronan said.
'Want to come along?' Dee asked.
'Come where?' Julia bustled in. 'Tea's ready.' She looked pointedly at the beer can in Dee's hand.
'The pub,' Conor said, leading the way into the dining room and smirking at the array of tiny sandwiches and cream cake on the table.
Dee smothered a giggle and avoided his eyes. 'This looks lovely, Julia, thank you.'
'I'd have preferred steak and chips,' Ronan murmured.
'What was that?' Julia's eyes glittered.
'Nothing, dear.'
Julia proceeded to pour stewed tea into tiny china cups as her son picked up two ham sandwiches and bit into them together. 'Conor, really!'
'It's my birthday,' he pointed out, helping himself to two more.
Julia's eyes misted up. 'Thirty-two years ago today; I can't believe it. Your father cried when he saw you.'
'Yeah, you were such an ugly little bugger.' Ronan loaded up his plate.
'He was not,' Julia said stoutly, 'he was a chubby little chap with a mass of black hair and the most wonderful dimples.'
Dee grinned at Conor. 'Have you any pictures, Julia?'
'Yes, of course!' Julia was on her feet.
'She's joking, Mum,' Conor said.
Julia sat down again. 'Very funny.'
'I'm sorry, Julia,' Dee apologized. 'I'm sure he was gorgeous. Not like Sam; he was all wrinkly and as bald as a coot.'
Ronan laughed. 'I've never understood all of this business of "Oh, he looks just like my father" or "He's got my mother's eyes". The only person babies ever resemble is Churchill.'
Conor stuffed another sandwich into his mouth and reached over to cut the cake.
'Wait!' Julia stopped him, 'We have to sing "Happy Birthday".'
'Oh, Mum, for crying out loud.'
But Julia was already sticking candles in the cake. 'Lighter, Ronan.' Her husband obediently handed over his lighter and Julia lit the candles. 'Now.' She smiled tenderly at her son. 'Happy birthday . . .'
'Peanuts?' Conor asked as they climbed on to two barstools in Casey's.
'Oh, yes please.' Dee was ravenous as she usually was after eating at Julia's. She had only nibbled on one of the 'plastic' ham sandwiches and had pushed the birthday cake around the plate hoping the woman wouldn't notice. If only Julia had bought a cake instead of insisting on making her own. Dee had watched in astonishment as Ronan and Conor had polished off two portions each. The Fitzgerald men had obviously been born with cast-iron stomachs and no taste buds. Conor bought them two packs of nuts each and grinned at her as he raised his pint. 'If your son could see you now!'
Dee laughed. She always tried to eat healthily in front of Sam and was careful not to eat things around him that he couldn't. Peanuts were definitely on that list. 'I think he'd forgive me on the grounds that I'm starving. Oh! I forgot to tell you my news. Remember that reporter who stopped me in the supermarket last week?'
He nodded.
'Another journalist from the Daily Journal is doing a follow-up article and he wants to interview me.'
Conor grinned. 'You're going to need a manager or an agent at this rate.'
'I doubt that. Still, at least the papers are interested in the issue. Maybe it will make a few people think twice before they throw something into their trolley. It really annoys me that, because of clever packaging, people bring home something they think is relatively healthy.'
'You have mentioned that one or two hundred times before.'
Dee opened her mouth to protest but Conor held up his hand. 'I'm kidding! I think you're right and I think it's great that you care so much about stuff like this.'
'I never bothered until I became a mother. I used to live on takeaways and microwave meals before Sam came along.'
'So when are you going to meet this journalist?' he asked.
'He's dropping by tomorrow morning.' She made a face. 'He wants to see me at work in the kitchen.'
'You know, this could be good exposure for the café.'
'Gosh, yes, I never thought of that. I must make sure to drop the name into the conversation a few times.' Dee finished her peanuts and stifled a yawn.
'You look tired,' he said, stretching out a hand to push her hair out of her eyes.
She turned her face and kissed his hand, smiling at him. 'Not too tired.'
He smiled back, his hazel eyes dark in the dimly lit pub. 'Who's babysitting?'
'Paula.' The seventeen-year-old next-door neighbour was always broke and only too happy to look after Sam.
'Great, so I don't even have to walk her home.'
'Just watch her climb over the wall. So would you like another drink here or shall we have one at home?'
Conor shook his head as she yawned again. 'I think we'd better go.'
'I'm sorry,' she said as they strolled back to her house, his arm wrapped around her waist. 'This isn't much of a birthday celebration, is it?'
He stopped and cupped her face in his hands. 'It's perfect.' He kissed her, gently at first and then more urgently. He tugged at her shirt and moved his hand across the smooth skin of her back and she moaned softly as he pushed his fingers under the waistband of her trousers. She pushed him away, smiling. 'Stop, or we'll be arrested.'
'It would be worth it,' he murmured, pulling her close again.
'Could you imagine your mother,' she said, into his ear before kissing his neck.
'My mother can go and—'
'Dee? Dee Hewson? I thought it was you!'
Dee pulled away from Conor and smiled at the little man standing behind him. 'Uh, hello, Mr Dunne, how are you?'
'Fine, thanks. Nice evening for a stroll.'
'Yes, yes, it is.'
'I was just wondering if there's any fish pie on the menu tomorrow,' he asked hopefully and winked at Conor. 'She makes a wonderful fish pie.'
'Yes; yes, she does,' Conor said. 'She's very good with her hands.'
Dee stepped on his foot. 'Not tomorrow, Mr Dunne, but I'm making some for Friday.'
'Oh, okay then.'
'Tomorrow is steak and kidney pie; you should try it.'
'Maybe I will. Well, goodnight then, safe home.'
'Goodnight, Mr Dunne.' She turned her face into Conor's shirt collar and groaned. 'It could only happen in this town.'
'It's just as well he came along when he did; another five minutes and he might have found you in a very compromising position.'
Dee laughed up at him, her eyes twinkling. 'You're all talk, Conor Fitzgerald.'
He turned for home, tugging her after him. 'We'll see about that!'
When they let themselves in the back door, the kitchen was empty and the small TV in the corner was on but silent. Dee frowned. 'I'll just go and check if everything's okay.' As she got to the landing, Paula was just coming out of Sam's room. 'Is he okay?' she asked, suddenly worried.
Paula nodded and smiled. 'He had a bad dream, but he's asleep again now.'
Dee let out the breath that she hadn't even realized she was holding. 'Did he say anything?'
'Nothing that made sense.'
'Did he have anything to eat before bed?'
'Just one of your cookies and a glass of milk. Honestly, Dee, he's fine.'
They went back downstairs and Dee went to her bag for her purse. 'Thanks, Paula,' she said, handing over the money.
'Any time; he's a little pet. 'night.'
Conor watched from the door as the girl hopped home across the wall and then he c
ame back inside and locked up. 'Is he okay?'
'Just a bad dream,' Dee said. 'It's probably something he ate.'
'I'm sure he's fine.' He drew her into his arms. 'Now, where were we?'
Dee stepped back. 'I just want to look in on him. You get us some drinks and I'll be back in a minute.'
'Fine,' Conor said, and after fetching a beer from the fridge, he settled back on the sofa with the remote control.
Dee crept into her son's room and sat down on the edge of the bed. He didn't stir, one hand flung out over his head, the other tucked under his chin. His cheeks were flushed and looked damp, and Dee laid a hand across his brow. He was warm but not hot, she decided. Still, to be safe, she pulled back the covers and felt his tummy. Sam turned over in protest at the feel of her cool skin against his and she took the opportunity to lift his pyjama top and examine his back. Despite the muted glow from the night light she could see that his skin was clear and, feeling slightly silly, she pulled his top back down, tucked the sheet loosely around him, and left the room.
Guiltily, she hurried back down to Conor. This was really turning out to be a very poor excuse for a birthday. As she walked into the kitchen she began to undo the buttons on her shirt. 'Okay, birthday boy, I hope you're ready for your pres—' Dee pulled up short at the sight of Conor sprawled on the sofa, snoring quietly. 'No way!' she murmured, kicking off her shoes and climbing carefully on to his lap. She started to open the buttons of his shirt, dipping her head to follow her fingers with her lips. 'Hey, birthday boy, you ready for your present?'
Conor smiled but didn't open his eyes as his hands slid around her. 'Oh, yes.'
Chapter 4
Lisa settled the toddlers on the floor with blocks and shapes before going into the baby room. Martha was burping one baby, there was another gurgling under a play-gym, and the third was asleep in the crib. 'Keep an eye on my lot, will you? I'm just nipping out to the kitchen. Do you want anything?'
'Yes, food,' Martha begged, 'I never got breakfast.'
'No problem. Dee's cooking up a storm this morning.' Lisa hurried through to the kitchen and sniffed appreciatively as she pushed open the door and was hit by a blast of heat and a host of wonderful aromas. 'God, I was hungry before but now I'm positively drooling!'
It's All About Him Page 3
