Tara Road

by Maeve Binchy

  'Rosemary could get better than Ken Murray interested in her.’

  'Yes but she hasn't found the right one, so isn't it grand that she's coming to live here halfway between Mam and ourselves? All we need is for you to come and live here too then we'd have taken over.'

  'Where would Martin and I get the repayment on a house in Tara Road?' Hilary began.

  Ria moved off the subject. 'Gertie's mother's being difficult.'

  'All mothers are difficult,' Hilary said.

  'Ours isn't too bad.'

  'That's because she babysits for you all the time,' Hilary said.

  'No, very rarely, she's got far too busy a life. But Gertie's mother won't take the children any more, she says if she'd wanted a late family she'd have had one.'

  'What will Gertie do?'

  'Struggle like she always has. I told her they could come here for a while but…' Ria paused and bit her lip.

  'But Danny wouldn't like it.'

  'He's afraid Jack Brennan will come round looking for them and for a fight and that it would frighten Annie and Brian.'

  'So what happens now?'

  'I go up and take them out for the day for her, but you see it's the nights are the really bad times. That's the time she wants them out of the house.'

  'What a desperate mess,' Hilary said, her face soft in sympathy and quite unlike the envious Hilary who normally talked about how much everybody earned.

  'You'd never take them for this weekend, you and Martin, just till their grandmother comes round again, or that lunatic breaks his skull with drink and has to go to hospital again? I know Gertie would die with gratitude.'

  'All right,' said Hilary surprisingly. 'What kind of things do they eat?'

  'Beans and fish fingers, chips and ice cream,' Ria said.

  'We can manage that.'

  I'd love to have them myself,' Ria apologised. She did in fact sound wistful.

  Hilary forgave her. 'I know you would but it just happens that I'm married to a much more generous man than you are, that's the way things turn out.'

  Ria paused to think of the spontaneous, loving Danny Lynch being considered less generous than the amazingly mean, penny-pinching Martin Moran. Wasn't it wonderful the way people saw their own situations?

  'So Lady Ryan is going to grace us with her presence on the road,' Nora Johnson said. She had come to introduce the new element in her life, a puppy of indeterminate breed. Even the children, who loved animals, were puzzled by it. It seemed to have too many legs yet there were only four, its head looked as if it were bigger than its body but that could not possibly be so. It flopped unsteadily around the kitchen and then ran upstairs to relieve itself against the legs of the chairs in the front room. Annie reported this gleefully and Brian thought it was the funniest thing he had ever known.

  Ria hid her irritation. 'Does it have a name, Mam?' she asked.

  'Oh it's just 32, no fancy name.'

  'You're going to call the dog Thirty-Two?' Ria was astounded.

  'No, I mean where Lady Ryan's penthouse is being built. The dog is called Pliers, I told you that.' She hadn't but it didn't matter. 'They all know she's coming to Tara Road, everyone's heard of her.'

  'That's good, anyway they'd know her from visiting.'

  'No, they read about her in the papers. There's as much about her as there is about your friend Barney McCarthy.' Nora didn't approve of him either so there was another sniff.

  'It's extraordinary, Rosemary being so famous,' Ria said. 'You know, her mother thinks of her still as a thirteen-year-old and says she should be more like me. Rosemary of all people.'

  Rosemary Ryan was featuring now in the financial pages as well as the women's pages. The company was going from strength to strength, and had taken on several foreign contracts in recent months. They printed picture postcards for some of the major tourist resorts in the Mediterranean, they had successfully tendered for sporting events as far afield as the West Coast of America. She had bought shares in the firm and it was only a matter of time before she would take it over entirely. The man who had employed her as a young girl to help in a very small print shop looked in amazement at the confident poised woman who had transformed his business. He was more interested in lowering his golf handicap nowadays than taking the early-morning train to Belfast , having two meetings and a lunch, and coming back on the afternoon train with a signed contract for work worth more than he ever dreamed possible.

  Rosemary saw no reason at all why people in Northern Ireland should not have their printing done in the South, if the service was professional, the price was right and the quality high. She had long ago persuaded the company to change its name from Shamrock Printing to the more generally acceptable if equally meaningless Partners Printing.

  And still no man. Well, there were plenty of men but no one man. Or at least no one available man. She puzzled people, so attractive, flirtatious even. It was not that she was frigid, she quite enjoyed dalliances and encounters on the few occasions that she allowed them to develop. People thought she had a much more adventurous and colourful sex life than she had. And Rosemary allowed this view to be widely held.

  For one thing it discouraged people from thinking that she was lesbian like her sister. 'Would that be so terrible if they thought you were?' Eileen had asked.

  'No. And don't get all sensitive and prickly on me, of course it wouldn't. It's just that if I'm not, then there's no point in having to carry all the defensive stuff that goes with it. You and Stephanie can do that because it's part of your life, it's not my cause.'

  'Fair enough,' Eileen said. 'But I don't see what you're so hot under the collar about. It's not the 1950s for heaven's sake, you're free to do your own thing.'

  'Sure. It's people's expectations that annoy me.'

  'Maybe you've met him already and didn't know.'

  'What do you mean?'

  'Maybe Mr Perfect is out there under your nose, and you just didn't recognise him. One night you'll fall into each other's arms.'

  Rosemary considered it. 'It's possible,' she said.

  'So who do you think it might be? It can't be anyone who rejected you because nobody could, Ro. Maybe someone you never started with… can you think of anyone?'

  Rosemary had told nobody about Richard Roche, her date from the introductions agency whom she had since met briefly at various gatherings. It had been so hurtful when he claimed to read in her face that she had no interest in finding a life mate. 'I did fancy that Colm Barry a bit, you know, the one who has the restaurant. But I don't think he's the marrying kind.'

  'Gay?' Eileen said

  'No, just messy, complicated.'

  'I'd leave it, Ro, honestly. Stick to doing up this palace and building the business.'

  'I think I will,' Rosemary agreed.

  When Gertie had another accident her mother gave in and took the children back to live with her. 'You think I'm doing this for you, but I'm not, I'm doing it for those two defenceless children that you and that drunken sot managed to produce.'

  'You're not helping me, Mam.'

  'I am helping. I'm taking two children out of a possible death house. If you were a normal woman instead of half crazed yourself you'd be able to realise that what I'm doing is helping you.'

  'I have other friends, Mam, who would take them when Jack's upset.'

  'Jack is upset every day and every night of the week these days. And decent though that Moran pair are, the odd weekend is all they'll manage.'

  'You're very good, Mam, it's just that you don't understand.'

  'You can say that again! Indeed I don't understand, two terrified little children who jump at the slightest sound, and you won't get a barring order and throw that lout out of their lives.'

  'You're the religious one, you believe in a vow, for better for worse. We'd all stay when it's for better, it's when it's for worse it's harder, you see.'

  'It's harder on a lot of people all right.' Her mother's mouth was a thin hard line as she pa
cked John and Katy's things for yet another trip to their granny's in their disturbed young lives.

  Rosemary came round to Danny and Ria several evenings a week. There were always plans to be discussed, reports to be given. She never stayed long, just long enough for everyone to know she was on the case and that no shoddy workmanship would escape her sharp eye. Ria tried to give her supper but she always said she had eaten a gigantic lunch and couldn't possibly swallow another thing. Ria knew this was not true. Once a week Rosemary went to Quentin's, the rest of the time she had low-fat yoghurt and an apple at her desk. Business meetings that had a social side to them would involve a wine and soda spritzer in the Shelbourne Hotel. Rosemary Ryan didn't remain greyhound slim without an effort of will. Sometimes Ria wondered why on earth she did it, why she pushed herself so hard. The gym and a swim before work, the jogging at the weekends, the permanent diet, the early nights, the regular hair appointments. What was it all for?

  Rosemary would say it was for personal satisfaction, if she asked her. But it seemed such an odd and even a lonely answer that Ria didn't ask any more. It was like the way they didn't talk about sex these days. Once they had talked of nothing else. That was way back, before Ria had slept with Danny, but now they never mentioned the subject at all. Ria never said how Danny still had the power to thrill her just like in the early days. And Rosemary didn't tell of her numerous conquests. Ria knew that she was on the pill and she had a lot of lovers. She had seen the plans for the large bedroom in Rosemary's apartment with its luxurious bathroom, Jacuzzi and twin hand-basins. This wasn't the bathroom of a woman who went to bed too often on her own. Ria longed to ask but didn't. If Rosemary wanted to tell her she would.

  'It's all taking longer than we thought,' Rosemary said.

  'Look at the contract, you'll see there are contingency clauses,' Danny laughed.

  'You covered your back, didn't you?' She was admiring.

  'No more than you did.'

  'I just insured against shoddy workmanship.'

  'And I just insured against wet weather, which indeed we had,' he said.

  Ria was cutting out pastry shapes at the kitchen table with the children. Brian just wanted them round, Annie liked to shape hers.

  'What are they talking about?' Brian asked.

  'Business,' Annie explained. 'Daddy and Rosemary are talking business.

  'Why are they talking it in the kitchen? The kitchen's for playing in,' Brian said loudly.

  'He's right,' said Rosemary. 'Let's take all these papers up to the beautiful room upstairs. If I had a room like that I wouldn't let it grow cold and musty like an old-fashioned parlour, I tell you that for nothing.'

  Good-naturedly Danny carried the papers upstairs.

  Ria stood with her hands floury and her eyes stinging. How dare Rosemary make her feel like that? In front of everybody! A woman who had let an upstairs parlour get musty. Tomorrow she would make sure that that room was never again allowed to lie idle.

  'Are you okay, Mam?' Annie asked.

  'Sure I am, of course.'

  'Would you like to be in business too?'

  For no reason Ria remembered the fortune-teller, Mrs Connor, prophesying that she would run a successful company or something. 'Not really, darling,' Ria said. 'But thanks all the same for asking.'

  The next day Gertie came. She looked very tired and had black circles under her eyes.

  'Don't start on at me. Please, Ria.'

  'I hadn't a notion of it, we all lead our own lives.'

  'Well, that's a change in the way the wind blows, I'm very glad to say.'

  'Gertie, I want us both to tidy the front room, air it and polish it up properly.'

  'Is anyone coming?' Gertie asked innocently.

  'No,' Ria answered crisply. Gertie paused and looked at her. 'Sorry,' said Ria.

  'Okay, you're kind enough not to ask me my business, I won't ask you yours.'

  They worked in silence, Gertie doing the brass on the fender, Ria rubbing beeswax into the chairs. Ria put down her cloth. 'It's just I feel so useless, so wet and stupid.'

  'You do?' Gertie was amazed.

  'I do. We have this gorgeous room and we never sit in it.' Gertie looked at her thoughtfully. Someone had upset Ria. It wasn't her mother; Nora Johnson's stream of consciousness just washed over her all the time. It was hardly Frances Sullivan, the mother of Annie's friend Kitty; she wouldn't upset anyone. Hilary talked about nothing except the cost of this and the price of that; Ria wasn't going to get put down by her own sister. It had to be Rosemary. Gertie opened her mouth and closed it again. Ria would never hear a word against her friend; there was nothing Gertie could say that would be helpful.

  'Well, don't you agree it's idiotic?' Ria asked.

  Gertie spoke slowly. 'You know, compared to what I have this whole house is a palace, and everyone respects it. That would be enough for me. But on top of all that you and Danny went out and found all this beautiful furniture. And maybe you're right… you should use this room more. Why not start tonight?'

  'I'd be afraid the children would pull it to bits.'

  'No they won't. Make it into a sort of a treat for them to come up here. Like a halfway house to bed or something. If they're beautifully behaved here they can stay up a bit longer. Do you think that might work?' Gertie's eyes were enormous in her dark haunted face.

  Ria wanted to cry. 'That's a great idea,' she said briskly. 'Right, let's finish this lot in twenty minutes then we'll go downstairs and have hot currant bread.'

  'Barney's coming round for a drink before dinner this evening, we'll go to my study,' Danny said.

  'Why don't you go to the front room instead, I'll leave coffee for you there. Gertie and I cleaned it up today and it looks terrific. I tidied away a lot of the rubbish. The table's free for you to put your papers.'

  Together they went up to examine the room. The six o'clock sunshine was slanting in through the window. There were flowers on the mantelpiece.

  'It's almost as if you were psychic. This isn't an easy discussion so it's good to have it in a nice place.'

  'Nothing wrong?' She was anxious.

  'Not really, just the perpetual Barney McCarthy cash-flow problem. Never lasts long but it would give you ulcers while it's there.'

  'Is it best if I just keep the kids downstairs out of the way?'

  'That would be terrific, sweetheart.' He looked tired and strained.

  Barney came at seven and left at eight.

  Ria had the children tidy and ready for bed. When they heard the hall door close they came up the stairs together, all three of them, the children slightly tentative. This room wasn't part of their territory. They sat and played a game of snakes and ladders. And possibly because they were overawed by the room Annie and Brian didn't shout at each other. They played it carefully as if it were a very important game. When the children were going to bed, for once without protest, Danny hugged them both very tight.

  'You make everything worth while, all of you,' he said in a slightly choked voice.

  Ria said she would be up to see that they had brushed their teeth, 'Was it bad?'

  'No, not bad at all. Typical Barney, must have it now. Must have everything this minute. Overextended himself yet again. He's desperate to make Number 32 a real show house, you know. It's going to be his flagship, people will take him seriously with this one. It's just that it's costing a packet.'

  'So?'

  'So he needed a personal guarantee, you know, putting this house up as collateral.'

  'This house?'

  'Yes, his own are all in the frame already.'

  'And what did you say?' Ria was frightened. Barney was a gambler; they could lose everything if he went down.

  'I told him we owned it jointly, that I'd ask you.' . 'Well, you'd better ring him straight away and say that I said it's fine,' she said.

  'Do you mean that?'

  'Listen, we wouldn't have ever had this place without him; we wouldn't have had anything without
him. You should have told me earlier. Ring him on his mobile. So that he'll know we're not debating it.'

  That night after they had made love Ria couldn't sleep. Suppose the cash-flow problem was serious this time. Suppose they lost their beautiful home. Danny lay beside her in an untroubled sleep. Several times she looked at his face and by the time dawn came she knew that even if they did lose the house it wouldn't matter just as long as she didn't lose Danny.

  'Come on, Mam, we'll have our tea in the front room,' Ria said to her mother.

  'It's far from a place like this you were reared.' Nora Johnson looked around the room which Ria had now resolved to use properly. She still smarted slightly from Rosemary's remark, yet in a way her friend had done her a favour. Danny didn't fall asleep when he sat here, he looked around him with pleasure at the treasures they had managed to gather. The children were quieter and kept their games neatly in one of the sideboard drawers rather than leaving them strewn around the place. Gertie enjoyed cleaning the place, she said it was like stepping into the cover of a magazine. Hilary went through the cost of every item of furniture and pronounced that they had made a killing.

  Even Ria's mother seemed happy to sit there, although she would never admit it. She compared it to rooms in other houses where she ironed and said it was much more elegant. She wouldn't allow the dog to come into this territory and so Pliers slept glumly in a basket in the kitchen. When Rosemary called she always admired the room. She had probably forgotten her cruel words saying it had been kept like a musty front parlour that no one used. Instead she saw virtue in its high ceiling, its two tall windows, its lovely warm colours. It was a real gem, she said several times over.

  Ria realised that there was great satisfaction in having lovely possessions. If you couldn't have a streamlined figure, flawless make-up and exquisite clothes, then having a perfect room was a substitute. For the first time she knew why people bought books on style and decoration and period furniture.

  It was interesting however to see that Rosemary's own design plans were as different from the room she admired so much in Number 16 Tara Road as could possibly be. Number 32 had been gutted entirely and the long top-floor apartment had a wraparound roof garden with a view stretching out towards the Dublin mountains. At night it would look magnificent with all the city lights in between. The interiors were cool and spare, a lot of empty wall space, pale wooden floors, kitchen fittings that were uncluttered and minimalist.