Tara Road

by Maeve Binchy

  T'll get coffee for us. Will I put whoever it is out of their misery?' Danny suggested.

  'Do, of course.' Ria was chirpy and cheerful as she heard the message tape winding backwards. Anything at all he did was all right with her today. She was just pulling on her swimsuit, ready to go to the pool, when she heard the fevered voice on the answering machine. 'Danny, I don't care what time it is, or Ria or whoever is there, you've got to pick up, you have to. This is an emergency. Please pick up, Danny. It's Finola here. Bernadette's been taken to hospital, Danny, she's had a haemorrhage. She's calling out for you. You've got to talk to me, you've got to come home.'

  Ria put a dress on over her swimsuit and went quietly out to the kitchen. She filled the percolator and switched it on. Then she took out a directory with the numbers of airlines in it and passed it to Danny without comment. He would go home today, and she must do absolutely nothing to stop him.

  She caught sight of her reflection in the mirror. She had a half-smile on her face. She must lose this immediately. She must not let a hint of what she was feeling escape. If Bernadette was losing the baby then their problems might be over.

  Danny looked at her with anguished eyes.

  'Get dressed,' she said. 'We'll get you on a plane.'

  He came over to her and held her very tight. 'There never was and never will be anyone like you, Ria,' he said in a broken voice.

  'I'll always be here for you, you know that,' she said into his hair.

  Marilyn had seen Rosemary stop and talk to Gertie at the bus stop. She was relieved that she hadn't used the opportunity to come and call. It was getting harder to disguise her resentment of such a betrayal. She dug on furiously, wondering whether in this Catholic country they would think she was breaking the Sabbath by working in the garden. But Colm Barry had reassured her, it would be regarded as purely recreational, and weren't all the shops open on Sundays now, football games played.

  She heard another car draw up outside. Surely not a caller, she didn't want to talk to anyone now. She wanted to lose herself in this work. There were so many things she did not want to think about. Strange that. Once there had only been one topic that had to be forced away. But today, as well as banishing Dale from her mind, she did not want to think about Gertie's violent husband, Colm's addicted sister, or Rosemary the faithless friend.

  She heard voices outside the gate of Number 16. And as she knelt, trowel in hand, Marilyn Vine saw the slightly stooped figure of her husband come into the drive and look up at the house. She dropped the trowel and ran to him, crying out, 'Greg… Greg!'

  He pulled back from her first. Months of rejection had taken their toll. 'I hope it's all right…' he began apologetically.

  'Greg?'

  'I did plan to call you from the airport. I sat there until it was a civilised time,' he explained.

  'It's all right.'

  'I didn't want to disturb you, or invade your time, your space. It's just… it's just… well it's only for two or three days.'

  She looked at him in wonder. He was apologising for being there, how terrible must have been the coldness she had shown to him. 'Greg, I'm delighted you're here,' she said.

  'You are?'

  'Of course I am. I don't suppose you'd think of giving me a hug?'

  Hardly able to believe it, Greg Vine embraced his wife.

  There were bus timetables there too, so Ria looked up an earlier bus back for the children, then she called Sheila. 'Could you be very tactful and get them on it for me? I'll explain everything tomorrow.'

  Sheila knew an emergency when she heard one. 'No bad news?' she asked.

  'Not really, very complicated. But Danny has to leave tonight and I want him to be able to say goodbye to the children himself.'

  'How much will I tell them?'

  'Just that plans have changed.'

  'I'll do it, of course, but I want you to know the courage it will take to tell that to Sean Maine and Annie Lynch.'

  'Dad, it's Annie. I can't believe what Mrs Maine has told me, she says you're going back tonight.'

  'That's right, Princess, I'd love it if you could get back.'

  'But why, Dad, why?’

  'I’ll explain everything when I see you, Princess.'

  'We were going to go to have a picnic and then come back this evening and we were all going to go to Manhattan tomorrow for the day. Now it's all changed.'

  'I'm afraid so, my love.'

  'Did you have some awful row with Mam? Did she send you home, is that it?'

  'Absolutely not, Annie. Your mother and I have had a wonderful time here together and we both want to talk to the two of you this evening, that's all.'

  'Okay then.'

  'Sorry to upset all the romance,' he said.

  'What romance, Dad? Don't be old-fashioned.'

  'Sorry,' he said and hung up.

  On the bus Annie and Brian tried to work it out.

  'He's coming back to live at home?' Brian was hopeful.

  'They wouldn't bring us back to tell us that,' Annie grumbled. She had missed a marvellous picnic by a lake. Sean had been very sulky about her departure. Even suggested she wanted to go back to Westville to meet Hubie Green.

  'Well, what then?' Brian asked.

  'He's broke, I think that's it.'

  'I always said that.' Brian was triumphant.

  'No you didn't, you kept bleating that Finola was saying it.'

  'We'll know soon.' Brian was philosophical. 'We're on the edge of Westville now.'

  When they got off the bus Hubie Green was waiting. 'Your mom asked me to pick you up and drive you back to Tudor Drive,' he said.

  'Are you sure, you're not just kidnapping us?' Annie asked.

  'No. I was glad of the chance to see you again, but truly she did ask me.' They climbed into Hubie's car. 'Did you have a good time?'

  'It was all right…' Annie began with a careless shrug.

  Brian decided that more information should be given. 'She and Sean Maine were disgusting, almost as bad as the two of you. I can't understand it myself, I think it would choke you and I honestly don't know how you'd breathe while you're doing it.'

  Bernadette's face was very white. 'Tell me again, Mum, what did he say?'

  'He said I was to listen carefully and repeat these words: "He was flying home tonight, he'd be here tomorrow and nothing had changed".'

  'Did he say he loved me?' Her voice was very weak.

  'He said "Nothing has changed". He said it three times.'

  'Why do you think he said that instead of that he loved me?'

  'Because his ex-wife may have been there, and because he wanted to tell you that if you did lose the baby, which you won't, Ber, it would still be the same.'

  'Do you believe that, Mum?'

  'Yes. I listened to him say it three times and I believe him,' said Finola Dunne.

  'Sit down, Barney, we have to talk,' Mona McCarthy said.

  'But you wouldn't talk at all when I was trying to,' he complained.

  'I didn't want to then, but we have to talk now. A lot of things have changed.'

  'Like what?'

  'Like that paragraph in the newspaper.'

  'Well, you said that you had something put by over the years and you were prepared to rescue things.'

  'We haven't yet discussed in what way. And I certainly didn't expect you to start telling the newspapers.' She was calm and confident as always, but this time with a steely hint that he didn't like.

  'Mona, you know just as well as I do the need to build up confidence at a time like this,' he began.

  'You'd be most unwise to build up anyone's confidence until we have discussed the terms.'

  'Look, love, stop talking in mysteries. What do you mean terms'? You told me you'd put something away, something that would rescue us.'

  'No, that's not what I said.' She was placid. She could have been talking about a knitting pattern or a charity fashion show.

  'What did you say then, Mona?'
r />   'I said I had something, a way which could rescue you, that's a very different thing.'

  'Don't play word games, this isn't the time.' There was a tic in his forehead. She couldn't have been fooling him, leading him along. It wasn't her style.

  'No games, I assure you.' She was very cold.

  'I'm listening, Mona.'

  'I hope you are,' she said. Then in very level tones she told him that she had enough money saved over the years in reputable pension funds and insurance policies which, when cashed in, would bale him out. But they were all in her name and they would only be cashed if Barney agreed to pay his debtors. And to sell this mansion they lived in and buy a much smaller and less pretentious house. And to return the personal guarantee on Number 16 Tara Road to the Lynches. And that Miss Callaghan be assured that any relationship with her, financial, sexual or social, was at an end.

  Barney listened open-mouthed. 'You can't make these demands,’ he said eventually.

  'You don't have to accept them,' she countered.

  He looked at her for a long time. 'You hold all the cards,' he said.

  'People can always get up and leave the card table, they don't have to play.'

  'Why are you doing this, you don't need me, Mona? You don't have to have me hanging around the place as some kind of an accessory.'

  'You have no idea what I need and what I don't need, Barney.'

  'Have some dignity, woman, for God's sake. At this stage everyone knows about me and Polly, we're not hushing anything up that isn't widely known already.'

  'And they'll know when it's over too,' she said.

  'This will give you pleasure?'

  'These are my terms.'

  'Do we have lawyers to fix it up?' He was scathing.

  'No, but we do have the newspapers. You've used them already, I can do the same.'

  If anyone had ever suggested to Barney McCarthy that his quiet compliant wife would have spoken like this to him Barney would have laughed aloud.

  'What's brought this on, the thought of being poor?' His lip was twisted as he spoke.

  'I pity you if you really think that. I never wanted to be rich. Never. It always sat uneasily on me. But anyway as it happens I am rich, and I'll be richer if I don't help you out of the hole that you are in.'

  'So why then?'

  'Partly from a sense of fairness. You did work hard for what you got, very hard, and I enjoyed a comfortable life as a result. But mainly because I would like us to move with some grace into this period of our lives.'

  He looked at her with tears in his eyes. 'It will be done,' he said.

  'As you choose, Barney.'

  Hubie left them at the carport.

  'Nothing is ever the way Brian says it is,' Annie said to him sadly.

  'I know.'

  'So will I see you again?'

  'Of course. Anyway neither Sean bloody Maine nor I will ever see you again after this summer, so what the hell?'

  'I'd hate to think that,' she said.

  'About which of us?'

  'About both of you,' she said.

  And they ran inside. They saw Danny's grip bag packed.

  'You really are going then?' Annie said.

  'Did you think I was making it up?'

  'I thought you might want to get us back from the Maines,' Annie said.

  'You'd want to have seen Annie and Sean Maine…' Brian began.

  'No we wouldn't,' Ria said. 'We wouldn't have wanted to at all, any more than we'd want to have seen the way you left your bedroom here, Brian. But let's not waste time, we only have an hour before I take your dad to the bus station. There are a lot of things to be said so we must all talk now.'

  'Zach might have seen me coming home, he could call in,' Brian began.

  'Well, he'll just be asked to call out again,' Annie said.

  Danny took control. 'I came over here to tell you that there are going to be a lot of changes, not all for the better.'

  'Are any of them for the better?' Brian asked.

  'No, as a matter of fact,' his father said. 'They're not.'

  They sat silent, waiting. Danny's voice seemed to have failed him. They looked at their mother, but Ria said nothing, she just smiled encouragingly at Danny. At least she wasn't fighting with him and it reassured them. A little.

  He cleared his throat and found the words. He told them the story. The debts, the gambles that hadn't worked, the lack of confidence, the end result. Number 16 Tara Road would have to be sold.

  'Will you and Bernadette sell the new house too?' Brian asked.

  'Yes, yes of course.'

  'But Barney doesn't own that one?' Annie asked.

  'No.'

  'Well, maybe we could all live there, couldn't we?' Brian enclosed the whole room in his expansive gesture. 'Or maybe not,' he said, remembering.

  'And I would have told you all this tonight, with more time for us to discuss what was best and to tell you how sorry I am, but I have to go home.'

  'Is Mr McCarthy in gaol?' Brian asked.

  'No, no it's not that at all, it's something else.' There was a silence. They looked at Ria again; again she offered nothing but a look of encouragement for Danny to speak. 'Bernadette isn't well. We've had a message from Finola. She's had a lot of bleeding and she may be losing the baby, she's in hospital. So that's why I'm going home early.'

  'Like it's not going to be born after all, is that it?' Brian wanted to make sure he had it straight.

  'It's not totally formed yet so it would be very weak and might not live if it were born now,' Danny explained.

  Annie looked at her mother as she listened to this explanation, and bit her lip. Never had things been so raw and honest before. And Dad had been telling the truth on the phone, they were not rowing and fighting.

  Brian let out a great sigh. 'Well, wouldn't that solve everything if Bernadette's baby wasn't born at all?' he said. 'Then we could all go back to being like we were.'

  Danny gave the taxi-driver the address of the maternity hospital. 'As quick as you can, and I have to pay you in US dollars, I don't have any real money.'

  'Dollars are real enough for me,' said the taxi-driver, pulling out in the early-morning sunshine and putting his foot down on the empty road.

  'Is this the first baby?' the driver asked.

  'No.' Danny was curt.

  'Still it's always the same excitement, isn't it? And every one of them different. We have five ourselves, but that's it. Tie a knot in it, they told me.' He laughed happily at the pleasantry and caught Danny's eye in the mirror. 'Maybe you're a bit tired and want to have a bit of a rest after the flight.'

  'Something like that,' Danny said with relief, and closed his eyes.

  'Well, make the most of it, you'll have plenty of broken sleep for the next bit, there's a promise,' said the driver, a man of experience.

  Orla King was having a routine check-up at the hospital. Something had shown up on a smear test but it had proved to be benign. Her blood tests had also showed much improved liver function. Apart from the catastrophic lapse at Colm's restaurant she was keeping off alcohol.

  'Good girl,' said the kindly woman specialist. 'It's not easy but you're in there winning.’

  'It's a funny old world. I stay off the booze and God says: okay, Orla, you don't have cancer this time.' Orla was cynical.

  'Some people find that kind of attitude helps.' The doctor had seen it all and heard it all.

  'Fantasists.' Orla dismissed them.

  'What would help you?'

  'I don't know. A singing career, the one fellow I fancied to fancy me…'

  'There are other fellows.'

  'So they say.' Orla went out into the corridor and walked straight into Danny Lynch. 'We do meet in the strangest places,' she said.

  'Not now, Orla.' His voice was hard.

  'It can't be baby time yet surely?'

  'Please, excuse me.' He was trying to step past her.

  'Come and have a coffee in the canteen and te
ll me all about it,' she pleaded.

  'No. I'm meeting someone, I'm waiting.'

  'Go on, Danny. I'm sober, that's one bit of good news, and a better one I don't have cancer.'

  'I'm very pleased for you,' he said, still trying to escape.

  'Look, I behaved badly some time back. I didn't ring or write or anything, but you know I didn't mean it, it's not the real me when the drink takes over.’

  Across the corridor was a men's toilet. 'I'm sorry, Orla,' he said and went in the door. When he was inside he just leaned over the hand-basin and looked at his haggard face, sunken eyes from a sleepless night on the plane, crumpled shirt.

  He had been told she was still in Intensive Care, and he could see her in an hour or two. Her mother would be back shortly, she had been there most of the night. Oh yes, she had lost the baby; there had been no possibility of anything else. Bernadette would tell him everything herself, it wasn't hospital policy to tell him whether it had been a boy or a girl, the woman would do all that. In time. Go and have a coffee, they had urged him, and then he had met Orla King of all people in the universe.

  His shoulders began to heave and the tears wouldn't stop. Another man, a big burly young fellow, came in and saw him.

  'Were you there for it?' he asked. Danny couldn't speak and the proud young father thought he had nodded agreement. 'I was too. Jesus, it blew my mind. I couldn't believe it. I had to come in here to get over it. My son, and I saw him coming into the world.' He put an awkward arm around Danny's shoulder and gave him a squeeze of solidarity. 'And they say it's the women who go through it all,' he said.

  Polly Callaghan came back from London early on Monday morning. Barney was waiting in his car outside her flat.

  Polly was thrilled to see him. 'I didn't call you or anything, I wanted to leave you a bit of space. Aren't you good to come and meet me?'

  'No, no not at all.' He seemed very down.

  Polly wasn't going to allow that. 'Hey, I bought the Irish Times at Victoria Station in London and I saw that piece about you, it's wonderful.'

  'Yes,' he said.

  'Well, isn't it?'

  'In a way.'

  'Well, get out of that car, come in and I'll make us coffee.'

  'No, Poll, we must talk here.'

  'In your car, don't be ridiculous.'

  'Please. Humour me this once.'