Light a Penny Candle

by Maeve Binchy

  Donal said it was hard to know, but living in a small town he felt sure that things should be worked out in a way that everyone could live peaceably together. It wasn’t his affair, but he would urge Aisling to think of the future when she might want to live back in Kilgarret, and it was better not to have too many old sores to reopen.

  *

  Eamonn said that if she had to give back the car there’d be a problem because he had done a trade-in, and given fifty pounds of his own money to get a Cortina. But he could work it out.

  Niamh wrote and said that since Aisling had asked their views she would be happy to give hers. If the law said the property belonged to his wife, take it. If she felt like making an act of great generosity to the dreadful Murrays, make it with part of the property, but one of these days Aisling would not be a dynamic twenty-nine-year-old, she would be a rich old bag.

  Aisling asked Johnny what he thought she should do.

  ‘What would the Squire have wanted?’ he said.

  ‘At what stage?’

  ‘When he was still sane.’

  ‘I have no idea.’

  ‘You must.’

  ‘No, I haven’t, in the lovey-dovey bit, of course, he’d have wanted me to have the moon.’

  ‘Then take the moon, chicken,’ said Johnny.

  Jimmy Farrelly said it was very simple; he explained that Aisling was prepared to go into open court with a description of her life with Tony Murray and her reasons and justification for leaving him. She could produce witnesses from hospitals, and his own letters received almost three years ago. He said she was not unwilling to be generous about the business once any opposition to her right to inherit was withdrawn. Off the record he had told Mrs Murray that she would not press her share for the third of the firm, new deeds of association could be drawn up, dividing it between the two women, Joannie and Ethel Murray.

  He said it had been electrifying; once they had heard she was prepared to fight it, all opposition fizzled out. Probate was granted, and Aisling inherited everything that had belonged to Tony Murray. His stocks and snares were transferred to her, the house was sold at a reasonable price to the cousins of the Moriartys, and that money was lodged to her account in England. She abdicated any right to a share in the business of Murray’s, and she directed that Tony’s car should be given to Mr Meade in the shop.

  ‘God, I never knew anything happen so quickly,’ Jimmy Farrelly said to his wife. ‘Once those Murrays knew that Aisling O’Connor was prepared to fight it and tell about Tony they went down like a pack of cards. He must have had something desperate to hide, and he was the nicest fellow you could meet, when he was sober.’

  It was all completed shortly before Christmas … and Aisling pointed out to Johnny that she was now a wealthy widow. ‘You shouldn’t pass me over, men like you are always on the lookout for wealthy widows.’

  ‘But I haven’t passed you over, I’ve found you and you’re mine,’ Johnny said, slightly puzzled.

  ‘And when will you make an honest woman of me?’ she asked, lightly teasing but in deadly earnest.

  He stood up. They had been sitting on the end of her bed. He walked to the window and looked out. There was a light snowfall. ‘You mean it, chicken, don’t you?’

  ‘Well, don’t you want to?’ She sat on the bed, her beautiful red hair falling down her back, and her turquoise dressing-gown making her look like a stab of colour against the white bedclothes.

  ‘We are together, you are an honest woman, you’ve always been an honest woman.’ He looked beseeching.

  ‘I’d like to be your wife.’

  ‘You are in every way, every possible way. This is better than being married.’

  ‘How do we know, we haven’t tried being married?’

  ‘You have,’ he said.

  ‘To each other,’ she said.

  ‘It doesn’t mean I don’t love you. I do, very, very much, but I don’t feel … I’m sorry – don’t think me very weak. …’

  ‘No, not weak.’

  ‘What then?’

  ‘I don’t know. Mean, I suppose. Afraid to try it, afraid to take me on.’

  ‘Ah, heavens above, Aisling, that’s not true. I’ve taken you on. I’m besotted with you.’

  ‘Why don’t you marry me then?’ She was begging. God, why had the script gone so wrong? She would lose him altogether. Elizabeth had warned her. It was too late. She was doing it all wrong.

  ‘I’ve told you,’ he said. ‘Let’s not change everything. Let’s leave it.’

  To her horror she began to cry; huge tears fell down on her dressing-gown. She couldn’t stop. He didn’t come over to comfort her. He looked embarrassed, at the window. ‘It wouldn’t be hard,’ she pleaded. ‘Nothing will change, we’ll be the same as we are now. I promise. …’

  ‘Well, why risk it? Why change something that’s going so swimmingly? What’s the point if nothing’s going to change? People only make big decisions in their life if things are going to be better. …’

  She couldn’t laugh. ‘Why could it spoil things? Lots of unlikely people are very happy when they’re married. It doesn’t have to ruin things.’

  ‘Name me one or two,’ he said.

  ‘Elizabeth and Henry, just to pick our closest friends.’

  ‘You must be joking,’ said Johnny.

  ‘They are, they are happy, aren’t they?’

  ‘Sweetheart, they are tearing each other to bits – if you haven’t noticed that you are blind. Now, stop all this women’s magazine stuff, clean up your face, get your butt into some nice clothes and I’ll take you for a drink.’

  ‘Go to hell.’

  ‘Why? I’m being agreeable, pleasant and defusing a dangerous situation.’

  ‘I’ve asked you to marry me, I won’t be palmed off with a drink. …’

  Johnny laughed. ‘That’s better.’

  She managed a watery smile. And somewhere at the back of her head the humiliation of being refused in her proposal of marriage didn’t seem so bad when she remembered what he said about Elizabeth’s marriage. Maybe he was right. Perhaps marriage did destroy everyone. It could be nature’s way of preventing people from enjoying themselves too much while on earth.

  ‘But you have to come!’ wailed Elizabeth, ‘I really can’t stand it on my own. I can’t stand it. Not Father complaining and Henry complaining and Eileen grizzling. I’m in very poor shape these days. …’

  ‘Oh, all right, I wanted to stay in bed all day.

  ‘You can’t, it’s immoral to stay in bed all of Sunday.’

  ‘Yes, you’re right, what about Simon and Bethan …?’

  ‘Oh, they won’t come, too busy feathering the nest. You should see the place they’ve bought. Henry spends hours with a slide rule trying to work out how he pays for it on what he earns. …’

  ‘What about Johnny?’

  ‘Well, you should know more about him than I do, where is he?’

  ‘No idea. He went off a week ago, no word.’

  ‘Stefan thinks he’s gone to Dover.’

  ‘Quite possibly.’

  ‘Tiff?’

  ‘No, misunderstanding really. I’ll tell you later. Why must I get up – I’m nice and warm here in bed?’

  ‘You must get up, because you’re my friend, and my husband, father and daughter will drive me mad. I don’t need relations around me, I need a friend. …’

  Johnny was right, they were tearing each other to pieces. Not the kind of rows she used to have with Tony, much worse. At least the rows with Tony ended fairly smartly with his flinging himself out of the house. Here they disagreed over words. And what the other had said, or the other had meant.

  ‘Henry thinks that you were mad to give back that share in the Murrays’ business to them.’

  ‘I didn’t say she was mad, I said that Aisling might have done better to wait a while, that in law the word “gift” is very precisely defined.’

  ‘I’m sorry, I thought you said, “Tell her sh
e was mad”. Those are the words you used.’

  ‘You totally misunderstood me. …’

  Elizabeth’s father said nothing. He just ate his food, looking at the plate.

  Elizabeth burst into tears and ran out.

  ‘You are picking on him, you know you are,’ Aisling said. The lunch had ended by Elizabeth’s apologising and a very grudging acceptance by Henry who wanted the whole subject re-examined. Henry and Father had gone into the study, and Aisling and Elizabeth remained at the table picking at the apple tart bit by bit.

  ‘I know. I can’t help it.’

  ‘It’s very bad, you usen’t to be like that, neither of you. I’m very uneasy when I’m with you now, I used to love it. I used to feel that I was part of something nice and cheery. Not now.’

  ‘Don’t be so dramatic. It’s just … it’s just … well, a phase, I suppose. I’ll tell you what kills me. I work hard, I go out and earn a living, I find a baby sitter, I teach her and train her to look after Eileen. After September there’ll be a preschool group. I set these things up, I entertain all his godawful friends. I make myself pleasant to people like the ludicrous senior partner and Simon’s inane wife, Bethan, for him, and I wouldn’t mind any of it, I’d do it all and more if there was any joy in him. There’s no life or spirit or happiness. It’s all as if we’re going round with a great black cloud hanging over us.’

  ‘Well, he is, obviously.’

  ‘But how do I get rid of it? I’ve tried, Lord knows, I’ve tried. Am I supposed to get under it as well, make both of us wretched? Invite Eileen in too, depress her, let her think the world is full of insurmountable problems …?’

  ‘But you must have known …?’

  ‘I did not know, and you’re a fine one to tell me about what people must know and must not know, you married a violent alcoholic and thought he was the nice boy next door who would be a suitable match.’

  ‘That’s true enough.’

  ‘Christ, Aisling, I’m sorry, why am I talking like that to you? You got up and came over here to help me, and I end up upsetting everyone and attacking you.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter.’ Aisling grinned.

  ‘I’m in such a foul mood. You see they’re waiting for the senior partner to retire, and then it will all be fine. Simon and Henry move up to some other level. Both sort of heads of sections, but separate from each other. That’s all in the pipeline. Then this interminable bitching and complaining about people doing him down will end. Honestly, I know I sound as if I hate him, I don’t, but there’s such a wall of hedgehog spikes around him, I can’t even see the Henry I love. It’s as if he put on a suit of armour.’

  ‘I know, I think I see.’

  ‘Anyway, the light at the end of the tunnel is there. I’m only dragging you down with me, that’s not fair.’

  Aisling lit a cigarette, ‘I’m fairly down anyway. I wasn’t going to tell you but I will now. I asked Johnny to marry me.’

  ‘You what? Oh no!’ Elizabeth laughed. ‘You’re joking?’

  ‘No. I’m not.’ She sat silent for a moment.

  ‘What did he say?’ asked Elizabeth.

  ‘You tell me.’

  ‘He said, “Why spoil a good thing, we’re fine as we are?”’

  ‘That’s what he said.’

  ‘Well, you are fine as you are.’

  ‘Except that he’s gone, another Susie, I think, to punish me for being so foolish as to propose to him.’

  ‘Oh dear me, Aisling.’ Elizabeth’s laugh had a slightly hysterical tinge. ‘We really are a credit to our mothers and our upbringing, aren’t we …? I wonder if Eileen will make such a dog’s dinner of her life? I wonder what we should do to stop her.’

  ‘I don’t suppose anything will stop her if she’s as stupid as we are,’ Aisling said, and they both were laughing when Father and Henry came huffily from the study and wondered if they might clear the table and have a hand of bridge.

  Simon called once or twice at Manchester Street. Aisling was quite pleased to see him; Johnny had not returned from his dalliance and she was becoming increasingly humiliated at the memory of her own foolishness. She had made several weak and not very serious decisions not to see him again when he did return. Simon always brought a bottle of wine. The third time he called, he gave Aisling a very warm kiss, and she responded.

  ‘Tut, tut,’ she laughed. ‘I mustn’t play the merry widow while your poor wife struggles with a home and a nearly-born baby.’

  ‘This is the time a man needs consolation most. In ancient Greece, young women and widows always thought it an honour to console expectant fathers, who were obviously anxious and uneasy and unable to find release with their wives.’

  ‘I don’t believe you,’ Aisling said.

  ‘I made it up, but it sounds good.’

  Aisling giggled. It had been lonely without Johnny; she did not have the same draw towards visiting the flat in Battersea since Elizabeth’s revelations about her problems with Henry. It was nice to be flirted with, and flattered. On his next visit he brought a bottle of sparkling wine and made an elegant pass at her.

  ‘Heavens, I can’t be had for false champagne!’ Aisling said laughing. ‘What do you think I am?’ The next night he brought a bottle of Moët et Chandon, and they drank it very quickly. Then they went to bed.

  What does it matter, Aisling said next morning, he loved it, I didn’t mind it and nobody’s going to tell anyone else so nobody gets hurt.

  Stefan told Elizabeth that he was going to retire. From now on he would only come in once a week. He and Anna would get a small place with a garden, they both loved flowers. His eyesight was failing, he no longer could see what he bought or what he sold. He wanted to know whether Elizabeth thought she would like to buy the business.

  ‘But where on earth would I get the money, darling Stefan? We have hardly enough for ourselves. I need everything I earn.’

  ‘I thought, with a rich lawyer for a husband, and a beautiful flat in Battersea, you were on the up and up.’

  ‘No. You couldn’t be more wrong. But, anyway, Johnny … won’t he want …?’

  ‘I talked to Johnny. That’s why I am talking to you. I had another idea, a different idea before I talked to Johnny. I thought perhaps Johnny and Aisling might now get married. Aisling has much money since her husband died. I thought that perhaps the three of you together could buy it and give Anna and me money for our last years. That’s all we need. But I couldn’t abide to have it go to people who would not love it.’

  ‘I know. I know.’

  ‘But Johnny tells me no, on no account must this be mentioned. He does not want to marry … I must never never say it to Aisling, it must not be brought up. Yet to me, whether they marry or not, it seems a good idea … Anna says so. She says Johnny is wriggling out of one more romance, and that I must talk to you, you and your husband, because Johnny has saved nothing.’

  ‘Stefan, it’s impossible. Don’t retire yet. Leave it a little while. Things may change. Seriously, Henry is getting a new position in the firm at the end of the month. Next month Father retires from the bank. He may sell Clarence Gardens, we may all buy a different house and go and live together, Father with us. There may be more money. Can you hold on for a couple of months? Things will be better then.’

  ‘I will hold on for a couple of months. I hope things will be better for you, dear Elizabeth, they are not well with you now.’

  Bethan had a baby boy. It was born at two a.m. on a Thursday. His father, Simon, was in bed with Aisling at the time, but he was delighted when he heard the next day. Everyone had said it was amazing for a first baby to be born prematurely. Usually they were late.

  Henry said that he was not going to consider having a party to celebrate the changes at the firm. It would look as if they were always finding an excuse for eating and drinking.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ said Elizabeth. ‘When we got married we both said that it was super to be able to have people round to our own home. I
t was one of the things we loved.’

  Henry’s eyes filled with tears, ‘I know darling, I’m sorry, I wish I could see the world as easily and lightly as you do, but I can’t, I worry about things. Somebody has to worry. …’

  ‘I don’t see why,’ she said.

  Johnny called to Aisling’s flat and saw Simon’s car outside. He bounded up the stairs cheerfully. ‘Hey, you two, let me in, I’ve got a bottle of pliska. It’s a plum brandy, you’ll love it!’ There was no reply, which was funny because there was a light on – he could see it under the door, and he had seen it through the curtain from the street. ‘Come on, are you up to no good?’ he shouted. Still no reply. Johnny shrugged and went downstairs. Out on the street he looked up at the window and saw that the curtain had moved.

  ‘I don’t know why he can’t know about me if I can know about him,’ Simon said.

  ‘Ah, but he’s a serious contender for my favours, you’re not,’ Aisling laughed, not that her heart had calmed down again after Johnny had run down the stairs.

  ‘You can’t think Johnny Stone is a serious contender as a husband, can you?’ Simon said.

  ‘He has begged me to marry him, sitting on the end of this bed,’ she said.

  ‘And what did you say?’ Simon laughed with her, not knowing whether to believe her or not.

  ‘I said, why spoil what we have, it’s good now, let’s not ruin it.’

  ‘Very wise, my dear, how sensible,’ said Simon, putting his arm around her again.

  ‘Won’t Bethan …?’

  ‘She’ll be busy with the baby,’ said Simon.

  ‘Things will be much better when I have the new job, there will be clear lines of demarcation in the office, people won’t get on top of each other. …’

  ‘If it’s going to make all that much difference why wasn’t it done ages ago?’

  ‘Because the senior partner has always liked to keep the reins firmly in his own hands and leave the rest of us worrying and jockeying for position,’ Henry said.

  ‘Do you think there’s any fear that your friend Aisling is two-timing me with your husband’s colleague, Simon Burke?’ Johnny asked Elizabeth at the antique shop.

  ‘I never heard anything so ludicrous,’ Elizabeth said.