Tara Road

by Maeve Binchy

'She was the right person at the time, Brian.'

  'And how long's the right time, Dad?' Brian asked.

  'About fifteen years, apparently,' Annie said.

  'Supper everyone, I have bought lovely fish and chips,' Bernadette called from the kitchen.

  Marilyn had taken a chair and a cup of coffee out to the front steps; she sat in the sun examining the garden.

  There was so much that could be done with it. Such a pity they hadn't given it any real love and care, unlike the house itself. She saw there had been interesting trees planted. Somebody at some stage had known what would flourish and had wanted to make an impression, but the arbutus had not been pruned or shaped, it had been allowed to become rough and woody, it was almost beyond saving. The palm tree was scraggy and untidy and almost unseen because other bushes had grown up around it and taken it over.

  Outside the gate she noticed a woman in her sixties with a very misshapen and unattractive dog. The woman was staring in with interest.

  'Good morning,' Marilyn said politely.

  'And good morning to you too, I expect you're the American visitor.'

  'Yes, I'm Marilyn Vine. Are you a neighbour?'

  'I'm Ria's mother Nora, and this is Pliers.'

  'How do you do?' Marilyn said.

  'Ria said most definitely that we should not call in on top of you unannounced.' Nora had come up the step to continue the conversation but she looked doubtful. Pliers gave a wide and very unpleasant yawn as if he could sense a tedious exchange of courtesies ahead. Marilyn remembered her from the photograph, she knew the woman lived near by. 'I can tell you one thing for a start, Ria didn't grow up in a home like this with all those antiques around her.'

  Marilyn could hear the resentment in the woman's voice. 'Really, Mrs Johnson?'

  Nora looked at her watch with a scream and said she'd be late for St Rita's. 'You must come with me one day… it's an old people's home, a visit would be a great thing,' she said.

  'It's very kind of you but why exactly?' Marilyn was bewildered.

  'Well, they like unusual things to happen in their day. I take my grandchildren there sometimes, and I once brought a juggler I met in Grafton Street. They like Pliers as a new face, I'm sure they'd enjoy meeting an American, it would be different anyway.'

  'Well, thank you. Some time, perhaps.'

  'Has Lady Ryan been around yet?'

  'I beg your pardon?'

  'Ria's friend, Rosemary?'

  'No, she left a note though. People have been so kind.'

  'Well, they're interested in you, Marilyn, it's only natural.' Nora Johnson was gone, having said she wanted to know every little detail about Marilyn Vine and having asked or discovered absolutely nothing at all.

  After Ria's mother left Marilyn took out again the wallet of photographs that she had been given. She had to know who these people were when they all turned up as they would, so when Gertie arrived, slightly hesitantly, Marilyn recognised her at once.

  'Let's not be awkward about this,' Gertie began. 'I know Ria told you I need a few extra pounds a week, but it seems unfair on you to have to dig into your holiday money…'

  'No, that's perfectly fine and I'd love to know that this beautiful house is being kept the way it always is.'

  Gertie looked around her. 'But you've got the place looking great, there's not a thing out of place. It's just putting out my hand and asking for charity.'

  'No, that's not the way I see it.'

  'I'm not sure if Ria explained…' Gertie began.

  'Oh, sure she did. You are kind enough to come and help to keep her house in its fine condition twice a week.'

  'Yes, but if that's all right with you?' Gertie had big black circles under her eyes. There was some background of dependency here. Marilyn knew Gertie was both friend and employee, still, it was none of her business. 'And would you like me to make you a cup of coffee?' Gertie began.

  'No thank you.'

  'Well, shall I start doing the cleaning then?'

  'I'm sure you know this house very well, whatever you think…'

  'Well, she always liked the front room polished.'

  'Sure, that would be fine.'

  'And would you like me to do anything for you like ironing maybe?'

  'That's very kind. I hate ironing. I'm going out now, so shall I see you next time?'

  'That's fine, and you're very welcome here, Marilyn.'

  'Thank you,' Marilyn said. She took her keys and walked up Tara Road. Lord but this house was going to be full of people. Not exactly the rest she had been looking for.

  Gertie thought that for a woman who absolutely hated ironing all Marilyn's clothes were very crisp and well pressed, and that she had already found time to take out Ria's iron since her arrival. But she decided not to argue it any further. There was something about Marilyn that appealed to her. She didn't seem to want to know why Gertie, who already ran a launderette, needed extra money in cash, nor did she seem anxious to talk about her own situation. In a life where too many people wanted to move in and alter the situation, Gertie found this lack of involvement very pleasing indeed.

  'What does it say?' Brian asked.

  'It's an American woman's voice saying she's not there and to leave a message for the people who are there,' Annie replied.

  'There aren't any people… there's only Mam.'

  'Shut up, Brian. Hallo Mam, it's Annie and Brian, and everything's fine and it's just that we'll be going out to a big dinner with Dad and… well, what I mean is that we'll be going out to dinner in Colm's restaurant on Friday so we won't be back until maybe eleven o'clock our time. We didn't want you to ring and find nobody at home. That's it, Mam. Brian's okay too.'

  'Let me say I'm okay,' Brian cried.

  'You're not to waste the call, Mam knows you're okay.'

  Brian snatched the phone. 'I'm okay, Mam, and getting on at the swimming. Finola says the coach told her that I'm making fine progress. Oh, Finola's Bernadette's mother by the way. She's coming to the dinner too.'

  Annie snatched the phone back and hung up. 'Aren't you the greatest eejit in the whole wide world to mention Finola? Aren't you a fool of the first order?' she said to him, her eyes blazing.

  'I'm sorry.' Brian was crestfallen. 'I'm so sorry, I just didn't think. I was excited leaving the message for Mam.'

  He looked so upset that even Annie Lynch's hard heart relented. 'It's not the end of the world, I suppose,' she said gruffly. 'Mam won't mind.'

  Ria came in from the pool wearing one of Marilyn's towelling jackets. For the first few times she had just flopped around luxuriating in the cold water and the beautiful flowers and the lovingly kept garden all around her. But she had taken to reading Dale's sports books all laid out so neatly in his room. There had been a swimming notebook recording how many lengths he and his friends had done on different days. One entry said: 'Mom has decided to stop behaving like a dolphin and be a proper swimmer. So she's doing four lengths each time, it's nothing but she's going to build it up.'

  By the time Dale stopped writing his records Marilyn Vine was doing thirty lengths. Ria felt there was a message for her here. By the time her children came out she wouldn't be like a dolphin any more, she would be purposeful, competitive even. She had done six lengths today and was utterly exhausted. What she needed was a cup of tea and a rest.

  She saw the little red light flickering on the phone and rushed to play back the message. She sat at the breakfast bar listening to her children speaking to her from thousands of miles away. The tears poured down her face. What was she doing out in this place wearing herself out playing silly games in a swimming pool? Why was she not at home with them instead of leaving them to become bosom pals with Bernadette's bloody mother? And why was Danny being so cruel and insensitive as to go back to the very restaurant where they had had such a scene on the night she first learned of Bernadette? And would Colm make a fuss over them and offer them a complimentary drink as he always did?

  The Lynch famil
y on an outing the same as usual, only a few small things changed. The wives, for example. The one put out to grass and a newer model installed. The mothers-in-law. Nora Johnson wouldn't be there but Mrs Dunne with her shiny copper shoes and her smart suit would. Like probing a sore tooth she insisted on playing the message over and over. She couldn't even smile at the argument between the children. She knew that once they had hung up Annie had laid into Brian for his tactlessness. At this very minute some huge argument was taking place. How would Bernadette react? Would she stop them fighting or would she pretend not to notice?

  Ria didn't care which she did. It would be the wrong thing to do anyway. And maybe this woman who was somehow Finola to Ria's children and yet was Mummy to Bernadette was now a huge influence in their lives. She was going out to dinner with them, for heaven's sake. That hurt more than anything.

  It was too much to bear. Ria put her head down on the breakfast bar in the sunny kitchen and cried and cried. She didn't see a man come to the glass doors and pause before knocking. He, however, saw a woman doubled over in grief. He couldn't hear her sobs or the choked words. He picked up his canvas bag and moved silently away. This was not the time to call and say that he was Greg Vine's brother passing through and that he had come to see Marilyn. He walked down to his rented car and drove to a motel.

  It had been such a house of tragedy since the accident he had hardly been able to bear visiting it. And now he had come across a strange woman in a pool wrap, crying with a kind of intensity he had never known. Still, he had promised his brother that if work took him east he would look up Marilyn. He had thought, wrongly, that it would be better to come without warning, otherwise she would have certainly found some excuse not to meet him.

  He had a shower, a cool beer at the motel and then he telephoned his brother's house. The words said Marilyn and Greg were both away but to leave a message for the people staying in the house. On a whim he spoke.

  'My name is Andy Vine. I'm Greg's brother, passing through Westville staying at the… sorry…' he hunted for the name and number of the motel. 'I know Greg's in Hawaii obviously, but perhaps you might kindly call me and tell me where Marilyn is? I would much appreciate this. Many thanks in advance.'

  Ria sat listening to the message. She did not pick up the receiver. Marilyn had mentioned no brother-in-law. Perhaps there was a coldness. If he was a brother of Greg Vine then surely he'd know that Greg's wife was in Dublin. If he was a brother-in-law of Marilyn and had thought she was at home, why had he not called around? But then was she being ridiculously suspicious over nothing? And would it be childish and nit-picking to call Marilyn in Ireland and check? It would also be somehow involving herself in Marilyn's doings, which she realised now was the last thing Marilyn seemed to want. She couldn't ask Carlotta and Heidi since they seemed to know nothing whatsoever about their friend Marilyn's lifestyle. She decided she would call Greg Vine in Hawaii.

  She was put through to him with great ease. He sounded younger and more relaxed than his photograph had suggested.

  'Yes, of course,' he said when she gave her name.

  'First, I must assure you that there's no problem here. Everything in your beautiful house is in fine shape,' she said.

  'That's a relief, I thought you were going to tell me the plumbing wasn't working.'

  'No, nothing like that, and I suppose in a way because I'm living in your home… I wanted to introduce myself to you… but not at length on your phone bill.'

  'That's most courteous of you, I hope you have everything you need.' His voice was polite but cold.

  Ria told him about the call from the motel. Greg assured her that he did have a highly respectable brother called Andy who worked in Los Angeles but came to Boston and New York City on business from time to time.

  'That's fine then, I'll call him, I thought it wiser to check it out because he didn't seem to know anything about Marilyn's movements.'

  'I appreciate your caution very much. But Marilyn was, let us say, a trifle reserved in telling people anything about her movements.' He sounded bitter.

  Ria decided to ignore the tone. 'Well, you'll be glad to know she's arrived there safely and is as well installed as I am in Tudor Drive. It would be good if you had the chance to go over there yourself.'

  'Oh, I don't think that's in the master plan.' Again his voice sounded icy.

  'I asked would you be going, she said she didn't know.'

  'Really? And will your husband be joining you in Westville?' he asked.

  Ria took a deep breath. Marilyn had certainly been fairly short on her explanations of anything to anyone. 'No, Danny is now my ex-husband. He is living with a much younger woman called Bernadette. It's the reason why I am actually here in your house. My son and daughter will however be joining me here next month. Did Marilyn not even tell you that much?'

  There was a pause, then he spoke. 'Yes, she did, and I apologise for my manner. It was uncalled for. I was confused by Marilyn not wanting to come here, I still am.'

  'That's perfectly all right. I think it was a search for somewhere completely different.'

  'Obviously.'

  There was another pause.

  'And your son?'

  'Yes?'

  'He likes Hawaii?'

  'I beg your pardon?'

  'I suppose it's a place that all young people would like.' Ria felt flustered, although she did not know why.

  'Oh yes. Certainly.'

  'I expect he's missing his mother.'

  'I'm sorry?'

  'They never pretend, but they do in a way that they can't even define.' She knew she was gushing. 'Boys…' said Ria nervously.

  'Well, yes.' He seemed anxious to end the conversation.

  'I won't keep you any longer,' she said. 'I'm not clear about what's going on in anyone's lives these days, but just be sure that your house is in fine shape. I had hoped to reassure you of that anyway.'

  'Of course, of course. And is it working for you being over here?'

  'It was,' Ria said truthfully. 'It was working quite well but I just got a message from my children on your answering machine.'

  'Are they missing you? Is that the problem?'

  'No, Greg. They're not missing me, that's the problem.'

  'Marilyn? This is Rosemary Ryan.'

  'Oh yes, thank you for your note.'

  Rosemary was to the point. 'I wondered can I take you and Gertie to Colm's restaurant on Saturday for dinner? He has a special seafood evening, and you might enjoy it.'

  'I don't want to intrude.'

  'This would be a casual easy girls' night out. Gertie doesn't go out socially. Do say yes.'

  'Thank you so much, Rosemary, I'd love to join you,' said Marilyn Vine.

  Ria called Andy Vine at the motel, told him who she was and where Marilyn had gone.

  'We both needed a little space in our lives and thought it would be a good idea,' she said.

  He seemed happy enough with the explanation.

  'And in the normal turn of events would you be staying here in Tudor Drive, I mean if Marilyn had been at home and everything?'

  'Well, I might,' he said.

  'So you shouldn't be paying for a motel really, should you? If you expected to stay here in your brother's house?' She was eager to do the right thing.

  'No, please, Maria. Please don't think like that. It's your house now just as the house in Ireland belongs to Marilyn.'

  'I feel bad about it. How long are you going to be in Westville anyway?'

  'I had thought that maybe I'd spend tonight and Saturday night here, you know, if Marilyn were about… then drive up to Boston on Sunday. The conference starts on Monday morning.'

  'I'm sorry she didn't think of telling you. It was all arranged in a bit of a hurry,' Ria apologised.

  This couldn't be the woman he had seen crying like no one had ever cried before. 'I had been going to ask Marilyn out to dinner in a new Thai restaurant.'

  'Maybe next time,' she said.

&nbs
p; 'Would you like a Thai dinner, Maria?' he asked.

  She paused. It was the last thing on earth she thought would happen to her in America, a man who hadn't even seen her inviting her out to dinner within a week of her arrival. But it was a Saturday night. Back in Ireland her children were being taken to Colm's restaurant with a lot of strangers. 'Thank you so much, Andy, I'd be delighted to accept,' Ria Lynch said.

  'Monto wants to bring in a crowd tonight,' Colm said.

  'What did you tell him?' Caroline was immediately anxious.

  'I told him we were full.'

  'Oh.'

  'He said I was to have a word with Caroline and that he'd call back later and see if we had an unexpected cancellation for six people.'

  'Give it to him, Colm.'

  'Why? It upsets you when they're here. We don't need the business those guys bring in, six overdone steaks and round after round of double gins.'

  'Please, Colm…?'

  'It's utterly terrifying for me to see you so afraid of him.' He looked at her big sad eyes with such compassion that he could see the tears form in the corners. 'Still I'll do what you say. Which table will they be least noticeable at, do you think?'

  She gave him a watery smile. 'Look, do you think I'd be like this about him if there was any other solution?'

  'There is a solution.'

  'We've had this conversation a thousand times.'

  'I'm so sorry, Caroline.' He put his arms around his sister and she laid her head on his shoulder.

  'What have you to be sorry for? You've done everything for me, you've saved my life.'

  He patted her on the back as he held her and behind him he heard the cheery voice of Orla King.

  'Well, hallo everybody. I thought I'd be on time to show you my sheet music but, boy, did I come a little early.'

  Bernadette's mother had decided to teach Brian Lynch to play chess.

  'Isn't it hard?' Brian asked suspiciously.

  'No, it's not hard at all to learn to play, it's hard to be good at it. You'd pick it up in half an hour then you'd know it for life.'

  'Right then,' said Brian agreeably.

  'Would you like to learn too, Annie?'

  'No thanks, Finola, if you don't mind.'

  'Not at all.' She had known Annie would refuse to do anything in tandem with her younger brother, and also she might have felt it somehow disloyal to her mother. Bernadette was right. Annie was a complicated child, and of course fourteen-and-a-half was the very worst age in the whole world.