‘D’Alton?’ Hugo suddenly felt reckless, unafraid.
‘Yes, Hugo?’
‘Is it this simple? I’m new to this so...’
‘Well, in matters of the heart, I’ve found things can be as simple or as complicated as you want them to be. There are a myriad of reasons as you say why we shouldn’t be together, but you impress me so much. From the time I first met you, and that unlikely bunch you are friends with...’ Hugo delighted at the sound of his warm chuckle and looked into his eyes once more. He knew d’Alton liked them, and it was true they were an odd mixture. ‘I knew then that there was something unique about you. You don’t care for class or title or position in life, you choose your friends based on their attributes, you’re fiercely loyal and generous and kind and, of course, you are rather good-looking, as well...’
D’Alton’s smile melted his heart.
‘I realise you don’t know me, not really. I wear a mask most of the time as you’ve seen. But I’ve shown you more of the real d’Alton than I’ve ever shown anyone. I trust you, Hugo, and in my experience of humanity, that is something to be doled out very cautiously. Maybe we’ll get on each other’s nerves, maybe you’ll discover the whole gay world, and I’ll be just your first crush, I don’t know, but I do know that I don’t want to walk out onto that aeroplane and never see you again.’
‘You know I have to stay here, manage Greyrock...’ Hugo desperately wanted a future with this man, but it was vital he understood the ties that bound him.
‘Of course you do. But Hugo, we can see each other often. Aeroplanes are wonderful things, you know.’
‘Really? Can we do that? I’m terrified and excited and worried all at the same time.’
‘I know you are because I am too. Now, let’s get this case over, we’ll wait until the sentencing. Technically, I don’t need to be here. O’Kelly or a local barrister could handle it, but I’d like to be. I need to go and focus on this other case, but I’ll be back in two weeks, and we can talk some more then. The case is in Paris, but I’ll be back at my house for a day or two at the weekend so I’ll telephone you then.’
Two weeks sounded like eternity, but the spell was broken, they had to go back. Hugo felt guilty at how much he wanted to stay, but d’Alton was right, it was too complicated until they knew what was happening with Patrick. They stepped outside and locked the padlock and when he did, d’Alton took another small key off the ring, identical to the one for the padlock.
‘That’s for you,’ d’Alton said, and kissed Hugo quickly on the lips.
Hugo had been given so many gifts in his life, ponies, holidays abroad, a huge estate, but no gift he’d ever received ever meant as much to him.
‘Thank you, d’Alton.’
Chapter 24
Liam heard voices downstairs as he was packing his bag to go back to Maynooth and wondered who was calling so early. He’d spent a few days at home with Mam and the girls after the trial, and Hugo went back to Greyrock. He was anxious to get back there as things were piling up after his weeks of absence due to the trial. He popped in after dropping d’Alton to the plane the day after the trial and had been in great form. D’Alton had spent the night at Greyrock to avoid the press after his amazing performance at the trial, and Hugo was really optimistic about Patrick’s hopes of a light sentence.
Mam tried to get him to stay, but he insisted he had to get to the estate. She was living in terror that he was going to kill himself in that fancy blue sports car. Liam smiled at the memory of his mother’s face when she saw it, revving loudly on the street outside, and Hugo grinning with the top down. It wasn’t in his nature to be flashy, but this car was his pride and joy. Liam was glad something was giving his friend happiness as he often seemed like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders these days. They’d have been lost without him, and of course, his money, in Patrick’s case. They had got the best in the business in d’Alton, even if he was a bit of a snob, you’d have to admire him.
Patrick really liked him though and trusted him, which was the main thing. Liam still was trying to take in how Patrick was able to kill his own father. He understood why he did it, God knows Joe Lynch had it coming, but to actually extinguish the life of another, whatever the motivation, was something Liam couldn’t comprehend. Still, he prayed that the judge would see that Patrick wasn’t a danger, a killer on the loose, he was a desperate man led to desperate measures. Life could be peaceful for his friend, for the first time ever, when he got out. Liam had battled for so many nights with his conscience. To kill was to break one of God’s commandments; there were no provisos in it. ‘Thou shalt not kill’—end of story. But should you one forever for something that wasn’t cold blooded, or if the victim wasn’t innocent himself? Eventually, Liam came to the conclusion that only God could judge Patrick, not him, or the courts or anyone else. He believed that Patrick should be freed and allowed to take care of his sisters as his mother would have wanted.
Things were good between Patrick and Helen. She was such a nice girl, and Connie and Anna loved her. They would make a happy family given half a chance. That flashy one he used to knock around with had never made an appearance after the funeral, but Helen stuck by him, even though they didn’t have any kind of understanding. Nonetheless, she visited him regularly and wrote every day. To the best of his knowledge, the subject of romance had not been broached. Patrick explained that until he had something to offer, there was no point.
He was in generally good spirits, Liam and Father Aquinas visited every chance they could, and d’Alton really did seem to have given him hope.
‘Liam,’ his mother called up the stairs. ‘Father Aquinas is here to see you.’
‘I’ll be down in two minutes.’
He rose and dressed, he was probably supposed to dress in his clerical garb, but he felt uncomfortable in it. He hated the reverence his old neighbours displayed towards him now, like he was somewhere above them when he was just the same Liam Tobin they’d known all their lives.
He looked out the window at the golden fish on top of St Teresa’s and made a silent prayer, ‘Please Lord, let your will be done but if your will could be to let Patrick away with a light sentence, that would be really great.’ He rolled his eyes and sighed in exasperation. What sort of a priest prays that a murderer gets off with taking a life? He despaired of himself, wishing for the millionth time that he could be more holy. He thought of his fellow seminarians, with their earnest faces and serious demeanours and the way they seemed rapt in prayer. There seemed to be serenity to them, like they were on the way to being saints already while he was very much a mere mortal.
He, on the other hand, condoned Hugo’s homosexuality, wanted Patrick to get away with murder, wasn’t full of divine thoughts, and his prayers lacked the piety and devotion of his fellow students. He desperately wanted to be a priest, he loved God and believed him to be a kind and loving force in the lives of all those who followed him. That thought kept him going through his many moments of doubt. God wouldn’t have given him a vocation surely if he didn’t intend him to use it.
He could hear his mother clucking around like a hen and though it was driving Liam mad, he was trying not to let it show because it was just her way of coping with everything. It was the same when Daddy died, he remembered, making tea, fussing over food, cleaning the house, all the things that seemed so irrelevant at the time. She’d had so much to deal with, that business with that woman next door, Daddy leaving, and then his death. She and Mrs Lynch were there for each other through thick and thin, and he knew his mother felt the death of her friend keenly.
She was all of a dither today though, and Liam knew why. She confided to him last night that D.I. McMullan had called to see how things were after the trial, but it had led to him asking her to go out for afternoon tea to the Imperial Hotel in town with him someday next week. Liam was so touched when she raised the matter, clearly embarrassed, but it was to ask his blessing.
&nb
sp; ‘I think it would be a great idea, Mam. Sure he’s a lovely man, and he’s on his own as well, why shouldn’t you have another chance at happiness?’
His mother cried and told him that there was never going to be a replacement for Seán, she wanted Liam to know that, that he was the great love of her life, despite everything.
‘I know that, Mam, of course, I know that, and Daddy knew it too. He’s up in heaven looking down and wishing you well, he wouldn’t want you to be on your own forever, and with Con and the girls away…’
She nodded, grateful for his approval. She missed the girls, and she hoped that when Con got married, maybe they would get closer if God blessed them with children. Hilda’s mother had passed away last year so maybe they’d have need of a grandmother. She confided to Liam that she prayed about it. Liam reminded himself to have a word with Con and ask him to include their mother a bit more. Con was grand, he didn’t ever mean any harm, but he could be thoughtless. The girls were a dead loss he feared. Kate was firmly planted in England and not showing any signs of wanting to come home even for a visit, and the twins, well, maybe it was better that they stayed in Dublin out of the way based on the get up of them the last time they came home. Maybe he could write to Kate, ask her to invite Mam and Connie and Anna over for a visit.
‘Well, it’s only a cup of tea. Nothing more. And sure we’ll see…’ She seemed unsure.
‘Do you like him, Mam?’ he asked gently.
‘He’s very nice, very gallant, if that word is still used these days. He’s a gentleman, just like your dad was, God rest his soul. And he makes me laugh, it wasn’t until that happened that I realised how rarely I laugh these days. No doubt, people will talk, but sure people will always talk…’
Liam was transported back in time to when he was a small boy, looking through the crack in the door at his Mammy and Daddy laughing long after he was supposed to be asleep, and Daddy hushing her because she’d be laughing so hard at something he’d said. He wanted that for her again, she deserved it.
The only other bright spot in her life was him and his vocation to the priesthood. He wondered how she would feel if he told her he was filled with doubt about his suitability. He wished he was sure, sure that he wouldn’t make a total mess of it even if he did manage to pass through the seven years and get ordained.
He finished dressing quickly. It was freezing upstairs, he could see his breath on the air. The girls were fast asleep; he’d seen them sprawled on his and Con’s old bed when he’d gone outside to the toilet earlier. He’d hopped from foot to foot. He had forgotten how difficult an outside toilet was in the winter. He was getting used to the comparative comfort of the seminary.
Father Aquinas was at the bottom of the stairs.
‘I thought I could walk you to the train, Liam, before you have to get back to the seminary, maybe stop for a cup of tea somewhere if we’ve time.’
Liam looked at the old priest and wondered, not for the hundredth time, how he was ever afraid of him. He’d shown such kindness to Liam over the years and, indeed, to Patrick and Hugo as well, standing up for them to other priests, who may not have seen the same potential in the three unlikely friends. Patrick used to call to the monastery often in recent times. In his letters, he would tell Liam and Hugo about how everything was up there, and he spoke with such gratitude for the support the priest gave him, especially when his mother died. If the worst happened, and Patrick did get a long sentence, Father Aquinas would visit him, Liam knew that for sure. In lots of ways, it made him being away in Maynooth a bit easier, knowing he was taking care of things here.
‘Good idea, Father, that’s a long journey he has this afternoon. The fresh air will do him good, but be sure and wear your warm coat and don’t forget your hat, sure you won’t, Liam?’
Pulling on his coat and a hat and smiling at his mother fussing over him, Liam and the priest made their way out onto the street.
He kissed her on the cheek. She was always sad when he went back.
‘Bye, Mam, sure I’ll be home for Christmas so it won’t be long at all.’
‘I know love, God bless. I put a few scones and a fruit cake in your bag.’ She hugged him tightly and let him go.
Father Aquinas and Liam fell into step as they walked down the hill towards the city.
‘A lot happens under the Goldie Fish, doesn’t it, Liam? It looks like any other street in any other town, but an awful lot happens here.’
‘It certainly does, Father, of late, especially. How do you think it’s going to go with the sentencing?’ he asked, knowing the priest had no more insight than he did.
‘Well, if he doesn’t get a light sentence, it won’t be for the want of trying on that Mr d’Alton’s part that’s for sure. He was wonderful the other day, wasn’t he?’
‘Yes, amazing. He came across so differently than the way he is, much more approachable.’
‘Ah, Liam, there’s more to our Mr d’Alton than meets the eye. What would you say if I told you he’s from Cork?’ Father Aquinas’s eyes twinkled with merriment.
‘No! He can’t be, with his big plummy accent and the get up of him, go way outta that,’ Liam laughed.
‘Well, accent and all, he is! He’s from down Midleton direction. But he got a scholarship to Clongowes Wood. Very bright by all accounts. He studied law and then went off to England, where he picked up the accent, no doubt, but yes, he’s a scholarship lad the same as you and Patrick.’
‘How did you find that out?’
‘Sure, Liam, I’m a priest and sure don’t you know priests know everything?’ the old priest replied with a wink.
‘Well, I’d better hurry up and develop this great bank of knowledge so. At this rate, I think I’ll be the thickest priest in Ireland.’
‘You’ll do fine, so you will. Anyway, the thickest priest in Ireland is a much contended title, you’ve brains to burn boy, always had. Are you finding the studying hard going?’
Liam debated expressing his worries to Father Aquinas. He’d worked so hard to get him into the position where he could even apply for the priesthood, admitting any doubts felt like letting him down.
‘No, not the studying, that part’s grand. I like it, actually, but I just wonder if I’m cut out for it…’ The words flowed from him like a torrent, all the fears and misgivings he had until eventually he stopped talking, there was nothing left to say.
The silence was easy, and Liam knew Father Aquinas wasn’t a man to rush into pronouncements. He was more cautious than that.
‘I’m sorry I shouldn’t be dumping all this on you after you’ve been so good to us, and today of all days, when Patrick is all we should be thinking about.’
‘Liam, we’ve talked about the Patrick situation a thousand times. It’s in the hands of God now, or at least in the hands of the judge, who is hopefully being directed by God. So we might as well talk about you. Firstly, I am not going to dismiss your concerns, the old ‘yerra you’ll be grand’ kind of attitude meant lots of men and women wound up in the religious life when they shouldn’t have and are now in positions where they can vent their frustrations on those in their care, so it’s important you are making the right choices. Secondly, no matter what you choose, I am proud of you. You had a tough time, not as bad as poor Patrick, but tough all the same. Losing your father under those circumstances and the effect it had on your family, well that wasn’t easy, but you got your head down and did your best, and I admire that in you. Because, Liam, that’s what anything is about, a good priest, a good doctor, a good parent, a good teacher, it’s not about getting it right all the time or knowing a hundred percent that you are making the right choices, it’s about doing the best that you can. We’re human, flawed, we make mistakes, we get it wrong a lot of the time, but once you can look yourself in the face and say, I’m trying my best, then what more can God ask of us? You say you’re thinking about hurling and cake and your mother when you should be thinking about theology or
philosophy, but that just makes you normal. Now, tell me this, and I want a straight answer, do you think about girls at all?’
Liam was stunned; he didn’t know what to say.
‘It’s not a trick question, Liam. I’m not trying to catch you out, I just want to know if you can do what is the hardest part of being a priest for a lot of men, giving up female companionship, falling in love, sex, family, and all the rest of it.’
Liam didn’t know what to say. His gut instinct was to deny he ever thought about girls, to deny he ever harboured an impure thought, but that wouldn’t be true.
‘I think I can do it. I’m not saying the thought of girls has never entered my head. Of course it has, and I see Patrick going out with this one and that one, before, I mean, and I’d wonder what it would be like, but I love God and if he wants me to be celibate, I will be. Maybe when he gives you a vocation, he takes away the desire a bit, so you can cope with it. That’s not my biggest problem. Being a terrible priest, that’s my problem.’
Father Aquinas burst out laughing.
‘Liam Tobin, you never lost it! You’ll be a grand priest and do you know why?’
Liam shook his head.
‘Because you are kind. You see people in trouble, people who might need help, and you do your best. You understand people, Liam. I know some of the other fellas might seem fierce holy altogether, but a lot of them are raised as priests since they were infants, like little hot house flowers they were, the rough and tumble of the real world never touched them. They were never in a house where the man is drinking and battering his family, or a house where a young woman, who had her own problems, fixated on a married man and ruined his family. They don’t know what it’s like to have a life foisted upon them, the pressure to be something you’re not and feeling the weight of everyone that went before you on your shoulders day after day. They wouldn’t know what to say to a woman or man who might be worried what the neighbours would say if they tried to find a bit of happiness with someone late in their lives. They never knew a day’s poverty nor had to search their conscience when what they knew to be right wasn’t what the church taught. Who are they fit to minister to? Only their own kind, who don’t need it, anyway. You, on the other hand, have lived, here, under the Goldie Fish where all human life is found, with all its frailties and rough edges. That’s why you’ll make a great priest because you’ll understand. Sometimes you just need to listen. You don’t need to have all the answers but just be there for someone, and you can do that, better than most.’
Jean Grainger Box Set: So Much Owed, Shadow of a Century, Under Heaven's Shining Stars Page 105
