Frisky Business

by Clodagh Murphy

  ‘You didn’t see him at the party?’ Marian asked Danny.

  ‘It was after Danny had left,’ Romy explained.

  ‘I met him when I was dropping Luke home the next morning,’ Marian said.

  ‘He spent the night?’ Danny’s eyes widened.

  ‘On the couch.’

  ‘Wow! You haven’t seen him in years, have you? I wonder what made him look you up suddenly after all this time.’

  Romy shrugged. ‘Just feeling nostalgic, I guess. And he wanted to get my advice on this house he’s inherited that he’s thinking of renovating. I might be helping him with it, if I think it’s worth doing. He’d be paying me, of course,’ she added when Danny bristled visibly.

  ‘Well, I think it’ll be lovely for you having him back. I always liked Kit,’ Marian said, smiling fondly.

  Romy laughed. ‘Mum, you did not! You hated me going out with him. You were always hoping we’d break up and trying to fix me up with other boys.’

  ‘Was I? Oh well, you shouldn’t go by me. I liked Paul. I married your father.’

  An awkward silence fell over the table. Marian busied herself cutting the pie and handing it around, and Romy looked at her in confusion, trying to read her expression. She and Danny exchanged bewildered glances across the table. What had her mother meant by that? Had they not been happy together? She had never heard her mother say anything critical or disloyal about her father before.

  Finally, Marian looked up, catching Romy’s puzzled expression. ‘Look, I know you shouldn’t speak ill of the dead, and I’m not really saying anything bad about him, but your father could be very … difficult.’

  ‘He was in a lot of pain,’ Romy said quietly, not meeting her mother’s eye. She felt the icy-cold dread wash over her as the memories crowded in, threatening to overwhelm her.

  ‘I don’t mean just at the end, Romy. He was always difficult.

  You must have seen that. He was always so hard on you two – so demanding. Romy, I know you and your father had a … special bond …,’ she began, choosing her words carefully. Then she sighed and said, ‘Look, I know you’re not supposed to say this out loud, but we all know you were his favourite.’

  ‘Gee, thanks, Mum,’ Danny said, but he was smiling and didn’t appear at all hurt, or even surprised.

  ‘I include myself in that, Danny, if it’s any consolation,’ Marian said, squeezing Danny’s arm.

  ‘Mum, I’m sure that’s not—’

  ‘It’s true, Romy, and it’s fine. I was over him years ago,’ she said with a wry smile.

  Now that Romy thought about it, her mother had been different since her father died – more light-hearted and relaxed, as if some invisible constraint had been removed. It was nothing dramatic, just a subtle letting go, the gentle expiration of someone who hadn’t even been aware she was holding her breath. Everything about her was softer, easier. She had stopped trying to tame the uncontrollable frizz of her hair. She looked messier, and happier. Her house, too, was scruffier, but more cosy and homely. Every surface was covered in a jumble of bits and pieces, and setting the table always first necessitated shifting the piles of paperwork that constantly littered it. The shelves and bookcases were full to bursting, and when space ran out, books were stacked in high piles on the floor, forming teetering skyscrapers.

  She had never thought of her mother as downtrodden, but now Romy wondered if it had been necessary for her to suppress some part of herself in order to be with the dynamic, forceful presence her father had been. She hadn’t given much thought to her parents’ relationship before. She had been aware that they were very different people, but they had seemed to suit each other. They were both journalists, and both highly respected in their fields – him for hard news and her for ‘soft’ features, categories which Romy thought typified them both perfectly. Her father could be stern, austere and intimidating, while her mother was never anything but warm, gentle and compassionate. Fiercely intellectual and politically astute, Frank Fitzgerald had been widely admired for his rigorous pursuit of the truth and his commitment to a liberal agenda. When he died, the nation had mourned the loss of one of its most valued political commentators. But while her father was revered, her mother was loved. He made people think, but she made them feel. Romy loved her mother’s writing. Her humanity and warmth shone through in everything she wrote, and her regular column in a national newspaper had won her many devoted fans. People would write to tell her how one of her pieces had touched their lives, and complete strangers approached her in the street, treating her like an old and trusted friend.

  ‘I loved him to bits, don’t get me wrong,’ Marian said now. ‘He was the love of my life and I got to be with this person whom I was totally crazy about. If I could go back and do it all again, I wouldn’t change a thing.’ She sighed. ‘That kind of love fades,’ she continued, ‘and it’s not always what makes you happiest in the long run, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t grab it when you find it. Sometimes, the things that make you unhappiest are also the things that bring you the most joy.’

  ‘What are you saying?’ Romy asked.

  ‘I’m just saying I wouldn’t necessarily be the best person to decide what’s right for you. You’ve always been the best judge of that yourself.’

  ‘You think Kit could be the love of my life?’

  ‘You certainly thought so when you were going out with him. I remember how distraught you were when he disappeared off to America and didn’t come back,’ Marian said.

  ‘But Mum, that was a lifetime ago. We were just kids.’

  ‘I’m just saying it’s possible,’ Marian said. ‘You’ve always known what you wanted, Romy, and you’ve followed your heart no matter what anyone has said. And you’ve shown better judgement than any of us most of the time. But lately it’s like you’ve started to doubt yourself. I’m just saying don’t close yourself off to the possibility.’

  ‘You think I’m closed off?’

  ‘You haven’t been out with anyone since Gary. I’m not saying having a boyfriend is the be all and end all, but I just don’t want you to miss out.’

  ‘Well, I’ve been a bit busy. I’ve had Luke to take care of. And it’s not that easy finding a boyfriend when you have a baby.’

  ‘But it’s not just that, is it?’ her mother said gently. ‘I think you’re hiding behind Luke a bit, using him as an excuse. Even before you had Luke – in fact, ever since your father died, you’ve changed. I know you’ve had a hard time getting over his death. But we all lost him, and we all miss him in our own ways. It’s been over a year now. Life goes on.’

  ‘I know, Mum.’ She felt tears burning the back of her throat and she clenched her hands under the table. ‘It’s just – I feel …’

  ‘What, love?’

  ‘I just feel what’s the point? What’s the point of loving someone and doing everything you can to make them love you back, when they can just turn around one day and say that’s it, they don’t love you anymore? Why put yourself through it when they can just cut you off like that? Like Dad. Like

  Danny and Paul,’ she wailed, waving at her brother. Tears were welling up in her eyes now and she brushed them away with the back of her hand. ‘I mean, why bother when it all means nothing in the end?’

  ‘But that’s just life, Romy. People die … and split up. Besides, your father dying is nothing like Danny and Paul. He died – he never stopped loving you.’

  If only she knew! Romy thought about telling her mother the truth now about how she had got Luke. If she told her, she would understand. She would tell her how she hadn’t been herself when she went out and fucked a stranger in a cupboard, and her mother would understand why nothing had seemed to matter to her then – why a connection with someone she had just met had seemed at once as precious and meaningless as a relationship with someone she had known her entire life. Because they could both turn to dust in seconds. It would be a relief to finally have it all out in the open. She took a deep breath, stee
ling herself to do it, but once again she couldn’t bring herself to say the words. She looked at her mother’s kind, loving face and her courage deserted her. Because what if she didn’t understand? What if she looked at her the way her father had that night – with such hurt and disappointment, such anger and … hatred. She shuddered inwardly at the word.

  ‘Just don’t be afraid to grab whatever life offers, Romy. You never were before. It used to worry me sometimes how you threw yourself full-tilt into everything you did and gave so much of yourself to people. But that’s you, and now I miss it.’

  Romy nodded, sniffing and wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

  ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you,’ her mother said, patting her hand. ‘And this won’t be cheering Danny up,’ she added with an apologetic look at her son.

  ‘Actually, I was just wondering if I could tie all the napkins together and fashion a noose for myself,’ Danny said.

  ‘Okay, change of subject. Let’s talk about celebrity gossip and trashy TV,’ Marian said gleefully, and both her children smiled. ‘There’s no one to disapprove of us now.’

  She felt disloyal even thinking it, but Romy had to admit Sunday lunches were a lot more light-hearted now than they had been when her father was alive. He had always dominated the conversation, and they had discussed politics and current affairs, debating the big issues of the day. He would expound on the background behind the headlines – the stories about corrupt governments, foreign wars and economic crises that he covered. She hadn’t resented it. He knew how to tell a story, and he had lots of stories to tell. It was always interesting and stimulating. But lunch with her mother was different – it was fun.

  Maybe they were all more relaxed now, she thought, looking at Danny. Their father had been charming and charismatic, but he had also been something of a bully. He had always claimed to value independent thought, and encouraged his children to express their opinions, but Romy had seen the harangues that Danny and her mother were subjected to when they disagreed with him or put up a stubborn, emotional resistance to his rational, analytical arguments. Romy had always been on the same side as him. She questioned now if she had actually agreed with him or if she had been subconsciously trying to win his approval. It had made her feel special to be allied with her brilliant, incisive father. But now she wondered had he been coaching her all along, priming her to go along with whatever he wanted, whatever he thought was right – to trust his judgement and never question or defy him. Had he been training her to be his co-conspirator?

  No, she mustn’t think that. She would drive herself crazy.

  She was being paranoid. He couldn’t possibly have known it would come to that. Her father wasn’t a monster – she shouldn’t make him into one now that he was dead. She felt even more disloyal for her thoughts in light of what her mother had said about Romy being his favourite. She wondered if it was true. He hadn’t always been happy with her choices, but like all bullies, he perversely had more respect for people who stood up to him, and she had always been less cowed by him than Danny. He had been disappointed – disapproving even – when she didn’t follow in his footsteps and go to university, but she had never had academic aspirations. She preferred doing practical things, and she didn’t want to study law or medicine just because she could, because she had the grades. He had reproached her for wasting her brains and doing what he had called ‘navvy work’. But she had stuck to her guns, and in the end he had come round. He had admired her energy and work ethic, and had respected her integrity and independence. She was glad that he had come to be proud of her for making a success of her chosen career, and glad too that she had stood her ground, not just for her own sake, but for Danny’s. Without her paving the way, Danny might never have had the courage to pursue his dream of becoming a landscape gardener, and could have allowed himself to be pushed into some line of work where he would have been miserable, his real talents wasted.

  ‘Jeez, does no one have any scandal?’ Danny said suddenly, shaking her out of her contemplative silence.

  ‘I don’t know who Luke’s father is,’ Romy said, looking at her mother. She hadn’t meant to blurt it out like that – she hadn’t planned to say it at all. It had just popped out. She felt her skin get hot.

  Danny turned to her with a ‘what the fuck?’ look. ‘I was thinking of something more along the lines of who’s Jennifer Aniston’s latest squeeze. Is Lindsay Lohan back in rehab? That sort of thing.’

  ‘I just need to say this,’ she said to him apologetically. Her mother was looking at her confusedly.

  ‘But what about—’

  ‘It’s not Kit.’

  ‘Kit?’ Danny turned to her, his eyes theatrically wide, mouth hanging open.

  ‘I’ll explain later,’ she mumbled to him.

  ‘But …’ her mother began, her brow furrowed, ‘Luke is the image of him.’

  ‘You just think that because you thought he was the father.’ ‘You’re not just saying this because he’s come home now and doesn’t want to be involved?’

  ‘No. It really isn’t him.’

  ‘But you told me it was an old friend …’

  ‘I know – because I knew you were worried about me, and I didn’t want to tell you the truth.’ She took a deep breath. ‘The fact is I don’t know who his father is. It was a one-night stand – with a total stranger. I don’t even know his name.’

  There, she’d said it. It was done. Her mother was looking at her in silence, and Romy wished she knew what she was thinking.

  ‘That’s not like you, Romy,’ she said finally. There was no judgement in her tone – it was just a statement of fact.

  ‘No, it’s not like me. But it happened. And it’s okay.’ She looked at her mother steadily, trying to convey reassurance with her eyes.

  Her mother nodded silently. Then suddenly she gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. ‘Oh my God, the other day at your house! Poor Kit must have thought I was some kind of loon!’

  ‘What did you do?’ Danny asked.

  ‘I was – oh God.’ She put a hand to her forehead. ‘I gave him Luke to hold, and I was going on about them needing to spend time together to bond.’

  ‘It’s okay, Mum – I told him why you were acting like that. You’ve nothing to be embarrassed about. It was all my fault.’

  ‘Did he go apeshit?’ Danny asked.

  ‘No.’ Romy smiled. ‘He was really nice about it, actually.’

  ‘See, I told you I liked that boy,’ Marian said, smiling at her.

  ‘Okay, now can we dish the dirt on Cheryl Cole and Victoria Beckham?’ Danny asked, and they all laughed.

  ‘I was at the hairdresser’s this week, so I’m all stocked up on celebrity gossip,’ Marian said, topping up all their glasses. ‘Ask me anything.’

  And just like that, everything was back to normal.

  ‘Do you think Mum seems different these days?’ Romy asked Danny later as they shared a taxi home, Luke asleep in his car seat beside her. She felt mellow from the wine and boneless with the relief of having finally told her mother the truth.

  ‘Happier, you mean?’

  ‘Well … yeah,’ she admitted reluctantly. It seemed wrong to say it.

  ‘Yeah, I think she is – some of the time anyway. It doesn’t mean she wasn’t happy then. She just has a different sort of happiness now.’

  ‘You know what she said …’ she hesitated.

  ‘About you being Dad’s favourite?’

  ‘It wasn’t true, you know. At least not—’

  ‘Hey, it’s not your fault. You couldn’t help being perfect.’ He grinned at her.

  Romy gave a little moue of dissatisfaction. ‘I wasn’t perfect. That’s a horrible thing to say.’

  ‘Anyway, you weren’t always his favourite.’

  ‘No?’

  ‘No. I had my moment in the spotlight. There was the time I came out, don’t forget. I was his favourite for at least a month after that.’

  �
�Oh, at least,’ Romy said, giggling. Her father had revelled in the cachet of having a gay son, wearing it like a badge of pride, further testimony to his liberal credentials.

  ‘Most of my gay friends put off coming out to their parents because they were afraid of how they’d react. I just didn’t want to give Dad the satisfaction.’

  ‘You brat! No wonder I was his favourite.’

  ‘I knew he’d be unbearable about it,’ Danny said, rolling his eyes. ‘And he was. Anyone would think it was all his idea.’ Romy smiled fondly. ‘Pity he missed me becoming a single mum.’

  ‘He’d have been so proud.’

  ‘He really would.’ She sniffed. ‘He’d want to kill Paul.’

  ‘I know.’ Danny’s smile faded and he looked out the window.

  ‘I want to kill Paul.’

  ‘Mum wants to kill Paul,’ Danny mumbled without turning around.

  ‘We all want to kill Paul.’

  ‘I miss him.’ Danny turned to her, his eyes shining with tears.

  ‘Paul?’

  He shook his head. ‘Dad. I still miss him so much sometimes.’

  ‘I know.’ Romy put her hand over his. ‘Me too.’

  ‘And then sometimes I don’t,’ Danny said, ‘and that’s worse. Sometimes, I’m kind of glad he’s not there, and I feel So …’

  ‘Guilty,’ Romy finished.

  ‘Yeah.’ Danny sighed.

  ‘I think it’s the same for Mum. I know she misses him. But she seems … more relaxed. More herself or something.’

  ‘Freer,’ Danny said.

  ‘Yeah, freer,’ Romy said, almost to herself.

  Romy sighed and looked out past her reflection in the car window into the darkness of the night. That was how she felt too, now that the truth was out. Free and ready for a new start – no more lies. Her mother was right: she had shut herself off from life for too long. Maybe this secret had been holding her back and now she would be able to move forward again. She already felt that life was opening up, full of possibilities. Suddenly, she felt like anything could happen.