Tara Road

by Maeve Binchy

  She looked at him, aghast. 'You're serious?' Rosemary said. 'You really are.'

  He appeared not to notice her shock. 'Nothing's typed up, I didn't want to use the machines in the office but it's all here…' He moved to sit beside her on the sofa to show her what he had written.

  Rosemary leapt to her feet. 'Don't be ridiculous, Danny, you're embarrassing us both.'

  'I don't understand…' He was bewildered.

  'You're demeaning us, what we have, what we were to each other. I beg you don't ask again.'

  'But you have money, Rosemary, property, a business…'

  'Yes.' Her voice was cold.

  'You have all that, I have nothing. You have no dependants, I have people hanging out of me at every turn.'

  'That's your choice to have people hanging out of you.'

  'If you were in trouble, Rosemary, I'd be in there helping you.'

  'No you wouldn't. Don't give me that line, it's sentimental and it's not worthy of you.'

  'But I would, you know I would,' he cried. 'You're my great friend, we all help friends.'

  'Neither of us helped Colm Barry. He asked us both to invest and we wouldn't. You wouldn't even bring clients there until it was successful.'

  'That's different.'

  'It's not. It's exactly the same.'

  'Colm was a loser, I'm not a loser.'

  'He's not a loser now but by God you will be, Danny, if you go round asking your lovers for support to help you keep your wife and your pregnant mistress.'

  'I don't have any lovers except you, I never did.'

  'Of course. Perhaps Orla King has hit the big time now as an international singer and she might bankroll you. Grow up, Danny.'

  'I love you, Rosemary. I always have loved you. Don't throw everything back in my face. I just made a mistake, that's all. Surely you've done that occasionally?'

  'You made two mistakes, one called Ria and one called Bernadette.'

  He smiled slowly. 'Yet you didn't leave me over either of them, now did you?'

  'If that's your trump card, Danny, it's a poor one. I stayed with you for sex, from desire not love. We both know that.'

  'Well even then, can't you see that this would work…?' He indicated the papers again, thinking even at this late stage that she might read them and reconsider. She put her glass down firmly, showing that it was time to go.

  'Rosemary, don't be like this. Listen, we're friends as well as… as well as the passion and desire bit. Won't that make you think that you might be able… ?' His voice trailed away as he looked at her cold face. He made one last try. 'If I had my own business, sweetheart, and you were involved in it, we'd be able to see each other much more often.'

  'I've never had to pay for sex in my life and I don't intend to start now.' She opened the door of the apartment that they had so long planned for. They had spent hours on their own, planning what they jokily called a love-nest, while in front of Barney it was a stylish investment property, and for Ria they had called it an elegant new home for Ria's friend.

  'You're throwing me out,' he said, looking at her, head on one side.

  'I think it's time you left, Danny.'

  'You know how to kick someone so that it hurts.'

  'You did that twice to me. You didn't know you were doing it when you married Ria, but you sure as hell knew it when you couldn't even tell me about Bernadette and I had to hear it from your wife.'

  'I'm sorry,' he said. 'There are some things which are so difficult…'

  'I know.' Her voice was momentarily softer. 'I do know. It's not that easy for me to let you go to the wall. But Danny, I will not even contemplate financing two different homes for you, while I sit here alone. If you can't understand that then you understand nothing and you deserve to go under.'

  When he was gone she went out on her roof garden terrace. She needed the air to clear her head. There was almost too much to take in. The only man she had ever fancied in her whole life had grovelled to her. He had not been his old slick, confident self. He had really begged her to help him. It gave her no pleasure to remember how she had refused him. There was no sense of power in withholding money from him. But there would have been terrible weakness in giving it to him, in paying him for his mistakes.

  It gave her no satisfaction to let him go under. What she wanted was for things to be different. For Danny to desire her so strongly and permanently that he would give up everything else for that alone. This, she realised, is what she must have wanted him to do all the time. Rosemary had always thought that she was so strong, she was a woman like Polly who could live her life and keep love in its place.

  In so many ways Barney and Danny were alike, urgent and ambitious, men for whom one woman would never be enough. What they needed were tough strong partners, women who could provide them with passion without making irritating demands. Danny and Barney were so alike in their belief that they could conquer the world.

  And suddenly she realised that they were alike in other ways too. They loved two kinds of women, the ones they married and those they kept on the side. They married Madonnas—the quiet, worthy Mona and the earnest, optimistic Ria. But to her great annoyance, Rosemary realised that Bernadette had been cast in the Madonna-role too. She hadn't realised how angry that made her feel. How had Bernadette sneaked in there somehow?

  Was it possible that after all Rosemary did love Danny Lynch? She had told herself a million times that the words she would use were desire, appreciate and fancy. Love was never meant to be any part of it. Surely it couldn't be developing at this entirely inappropriate stage?

  At times like these Ria wished she were taller. It was infuriating to have to jump up and down but unless she did she couldn't see the passengers coming through. And then she saw them. They wheeled a luggage trolley with their two suitcases on it, their eyes raking the crowds. They each carried a small grip bag. Those were new. Ria wondered with a pang who had bought those particular gifts. It was a good idea to have something that would hold sweaters, books, comics, games. Why had she not thought of that?

  She forced herself not to shout out their names, neither of them would want the attention called to them. Instead she ran to a corner where she could reach out when they passed by. Don't hold them too long or too tight, she told herself. She waved with all the Irish Americans who waved for their families and friends. And they saw her. With a lump in her throat Ria saw their faces light up and they both broke into a run.

  'Mam!' Brian cried, and ran towards her. It was he who hugged longer.

  Ria had to release him to reach for Annie. She seemed taller, slimmer, but this couldn't be. Not in four weeks. 'You're beautiful, Annie,' Ria said.

  'We missed you, Mam,' Annie said into her mother's hair.

  It was as good a reunion as Ria could have wished for as she had sat on the bus impatient for their arrival. Ria had decided she would take them into Manhattan, show them the big sights, take them on the Circle Line tour, and behave like a native New Yorker pointing out everything from the Hudson and East Rivers. She had already done this tour herself, she knew what it could offer. But then she thought, they'll be tired, and everything in America will be new for them anyway, even being on a bus over here will be exciting. Take them home to Tudor Drive, let them swim, let them see their new home.

  Back in Tara Road Ria would have had many people to discuss this with over the past few days. There would have been phone calls and cups of coffee and the whole thing would have been argued to the bone. Here there was nobody. It would seem feeble somehow to lay such issues in front of Carlotta, and Heidi, young Hubie Green, John and Gerry from the gourmet shop. Nowadays Ria Lynch made up her own mind about things, matters were no longer arranged by long committee discussions with coffee and shortbread.

  'We're going straight back to Westville,' she said, an arm lightly round each of their shoulders. 'I want to show you your summer home.'

  They seemed pleased, and with her heart light and happy Ria marched her litt
le family to the bus.

  Heidi was looking at her e-mail with amazement. There was a message from Marilyn in Dublin.

  Heidi, I found a Cyber cafe and decided to seize the opportunity. Thank you so much for your air letters, you are good to keep in touch. I miss you and Henry. There are lots of things I imagine myself telling you about Dublin and the way people live. I've been through Trinity College which is quite beautiful, and absolutely in the centre of the city, it's as if Dublin was built all around it. I'm glad to hear that you have been socialising with Ria, she sounds a great cook and a wonderful homemaker. Her children are going over to Tudor Drive today, a very bright girl called Annie just a year younger than Dale, and Brian who should be the hero of some cartoon series and one day will be. I'll miss them. I wonder if you could possibly arrange some kind of treat for them? If there's anything like a circus or a pop star or Wild West Show coming to the area. It's just that I'm afraid they'll find Tudor Drive a bit dull after Dublin and I really do want them to have a good time. I'd so much appreciate it, Heidi. You can't mail me back here sadly but I'll be in touch again. Love Marilyn.

  Heidi read the screen three times then she printed it out to take home and show to her husband. Marilyn Vine wanted people to get involved in her life. She thought Tudor Drive might be dull for two strange children. But most startling of all she had mentioned Dale.

  She had actually used his name.

  Polly Callaghan heard Barney's key in the lock. He looked a little tired but not as tired as he deserved to look with all that was happening to him.

  'Come in, you poor divil,' she said with a big warm smile.

  'It's not good news, Poll.'

  'I know it's not,' she said. 'Look, I've got the evening paper, I've been looking through Accommodation to Let for places to stay.'

  He put his hand on hers. 'I'm so ashamed. First your businesss now your apartment.'

  'They were never mine, Barney, they were yours.'

  'They were ours,' he said.

  'So what's the bottom line? What date do I leave?'

  'By September the first.'

  'And your own house?'

  'It’s in Mona's name.'

  'As this flat is in mine.'

  'I know.' He looked wretched.

  'And is she being as good a sport as I am? Giving it up without a murmur?'

  'I don't know, she's not in possession of all the facts, if you understand.'

  'Well, she will be this week, you'll be declared a bankrupt.'

  'Yes. Yes. We'll get back, Poll, we always did before.'

  'I think this may be a bit heavy,' she said.

  'They tell us to take risks, they advise us to be adventurous, entrepreneurs even, and then when we do they bloody leave us in the gutter.' He sounded very bitter.

  'Who do? Banks?'

  'Yes, banks, big business consortiums, civil servants, architects, politicians…'

  'Will you go to gaol?'

  'No, not a possibility.'

  'And you do have some money outside the country?'

  'No, Poll, hardly anything. I was vain you know, I believed my own publicity. I brought it all back for schemes like Number 32 Tara Road, like the Lara development. And look where it got me.'

  'Talking about Tara Road…' Polly Callaghan began.

  'Don't remind me, Poll, telling them is as bad as telling Mona.'

  They chattered all the time on the bus.

  There had been a well-known singer on the plane, up in the front in first class, but Brian and Annie had seen him as they went to view the flight deck. They asked him to sign his menu. Annie had seen him first but he could see Brian's disappointment so he had signed another for him. The pilots did nothing on the plane at all except sit there apparently. The whole thing was done by radar and computers on the ground. You didn't have to pay for Coke or Pepsi or orange on the plane, it was free.

  Granny was fine, they hadn't seen Hilary but apparently she and Martin were looking for a new house. Gertie had sent a message. What was it? Brian couldn't remember.

  'She said to tell you Jack wasn't belting her,' Annie said. Ria was startled.

  Brian looked up with interest. 'She didn't say that, I'd have remembered,' he said.

  Ria intervened. 'That was just a joke,' she said.

  Annie caught the tone. 'Of course it was a joke, Brian, you've no sense of humour,' she said. 'What Gertie said was to tell you that everything was going fine in the launderette and everywhere, and that you'd be glad to know that.'

  Ria smiled at her daughter. Annie was growing up. 'And how's your dad?' She kept the question light.

  'Fussed,' Annie said.

  'Broke,' Brian said.

  'I'm sorry to hear both of those things.' Ria knew this was a slippery slope and she must leave it as soon as possible. 'Look, I brought a map to show you where we're going.' She pointed out the route and told them about thruways and highways and turnpikes, but all the time her mind kept going back to these two words. Fussed and broke. Danny had been neither of those things when he lived with her. What a fool he was! What a stupid fool to leave her and his children, and to end up not blissfully happy as he had thought but broke and fussed.

  They couldn't believe that Mam could drive on the wrong side of the road. 'It's sort of automatic unless you're coming out of a gas station, then it's dangerously easy to set off on the left instead of the right.'

  'Coming out of a what?' Annie asked.

  'Petrol station. Sorry, I'm picking up the language,' Ria said, laughing.

  They loved the house. 'My God, that's like a film star's swimming pool,' Annie said.

  'Will we have a swim now?' Brian wanted to know.

  'Why not? I'll show you your rooms and we'll all change.'

  'You're going to swim too?' Annie was surprised.

  'Oh, I swim twice a day,' Ria said. With her first earnings from the delicatessen she had bought a smart new swimsuit. She was anxious to show it off to the children. 'Annie, this is your room, I put flowers in it, there's lots of closet space… lots of presses in it. And Brian you're over here.'

  They flung their suitcases on their beds and began to throw the clothes out. Ria was touched to see the e-mail that she had sent to Danny's office telling them what to pack taped inside the lid of Annie's suitcase. 'Did Dad do that for you, help you pack?' she asked.

  'No, Bernadette did. Mam, you wouldn't believe Dad these days… he honestly hardly noticed we were leaving.'

  'And is he broke, do you think?'

  'I don't know, Mam, there's a lot of chat about it certainly but if he were he'd tell you, wouldn't he?' Ria was silent. 'He'd have to, Mam.'

  'Yes, of course he would. Let's all get changed and go swim.'

  Brian, already in his bathing trunks, was investigating the house. He opened the door to Dale's room that Ria had meant to lock until she could explain. 'Hey, look at all this!' he said in amazement, looking at the posters on the wall, the books, the music centre, the clothes and the brightly coloured cushions and rug on the bed. 'This is a room.'

  'Well I must explain…' Ria began.

  Annie was in there too, she was running her hand across the photographs framed on the wall. 'He is good-looking, isn't he?'

  'Look at all the pictures of wrestlers! Aren't they enormous!' Brian was examining pictures of giant Sumos.

  'And this must have been his school play,' Annie said. 'Let me see, oh there he is.'

  'I must tell you about this room,' Ria began.

  'I know, it's Dale's room.' Annie was lofty, she knew everything.

  'But what you don't understand is that he won't be coming back.'

  'No, he's dead, he was killed on a motor bike,' Brian said.

  'How do you know?'

  'Marilyn told us all about it. Let's see, can you see the braces on his teeth? Look, they're only like little dots.' Annie was examining a close-up picture of Dale shovelling snow. 'That must have been when they had the snowstorm and Dale dug out a path for them in
the middle of the night as a surprise.'

  'She told you all this?' Ria was astounded.

  'Yes, why did you tell us he was in Hawaii?' Annie wanted to know.

  'Not to upset us maybe?' Brian suggested.

  'I got it wrong,' Ria said humbly.

  'Typical Mam,' said Annie as if this was no surprise to her but no big deal either. 'Come on, Mam, let's swim. Hey that's a nice swimming cozzy. And you're much browner than we are, but we'll catch up, won't we, Brian?'

  'Sure we will.'

  Gertie was walking past Number 32 Tara Road when Rosemary came out.

  'You're the very person I wanted to meet,' Rosemary called.

  Gertie was surprised. Rosemary rarely wanted to meet her and when she did she seemed very scornful of Gertie's lifestyle. Also, there was a telephone in the launderette if she needed her. But life was good these days. She had asked those children to tell Ria, it wasn't a thing you'd put in writing but Jack hadn't touched a drop for a week and he had even given the launderette a coat of paint. Her children were at home again, watchful and wary but at least they were home. 'So now you found me,' Gertie said brightly.

  'Yes, I was wondering when Ria's children are off to the States. You see Ria sent me an e-mail no less, and she was talking about a big faculty picnic or some other college thing in the town she's living in. Anyway I thought I'd send her over a couple of dresses, you know, things I don't need any more. She might find them useful for socialising. She doesn't have anything particularly stylish herself.'

  Rosemary's eye always seemed to go up and down you as she talked. It began at your feet and went as far as the crown of your head, as if she were a teacher inspecting pupils to see if they were suitable for a public parade. Gertie had known it for many years, and the eye always seemed to linger on the stained part of the pink nylon overall or the hair when it was uncombed and greasy. 'But they've gone already,' Gertie said. 'They went the day before yesterday, they'll be settled in now.'

  Rosemary was irritated. 'I didn't know that.'

  'It was always August the first that they were going out there, remember?'

  'No I don't. How can I hold everything in my head? They never called to say goodbye.'