by Faith Hogan
Later in the afternoon, standing in the doorway; he spotted them ambling along the narrow road that trailed down from the village. They looked like they were in no particular hurry, just happy to be out of the hotel. The fresh air pushed the hair from their eyes. Archie walked tall and straight, his sleeves rolled down, a straw hat sitting jauntily on his head. He swiped happily alongside the stunning Iris. She, for her part, had pinned her hair in the fashion of the day. Her lips were scarlet, matching perfectly the dress that clung to her impressive curves. Her shoes, glamorous but not garish, gave her added inches. When they halted before Robert, it seemed that she looked him directly in the eye. And whether Archie knew it or not, Robert imagined he saw something of a challenge there.
‘Come on, you two, I’ve got something special just for us.’ He led them to the back of the tearooms, through the throngs of dancing couples. At the foot of the stairs to his flat, he left three glasses and a bottle of gin, with a small container of peppermint next to it. ‘Bottoms up,’ he said as he handed a large measure to Archie and Iris and poured himself something much more modest.
‘Oh, my,’ Iris said. Robert guessed correctly; she was not used to alcohol.
‘We probably shouldn’t have too much of this. After all, there’s dinner for thirty people for this evening to be served up yet.’ Archie was conscientious as usual.
‘Oh, lighten up, Archie, it’s a party. You have the next four months to make dinners and work like a slave. Iris needs to have some fun too.’
‘Right,’ Archie said, eyeing up Robert. He was, after all, the expert in affairs of the heart.
‘Come on; let’s get a dance or two in before it’s over. One of those feisty Corcoran girls has been throwing me some very saucy looks all afternoon, what do you think? Should I make her day?’ Robert had a plan. He’d been hatching it since before they arrived; it was either this or make a complete fool of himself.
‘Not Jackie Corcoran’s daughter? Robert, he’s the church warden and there’s none of them even out of school yet. They are hardly seventeen.’ Archie was aghast.
‘I’m just going to dance with her, Archie, that’s all. Didn’t you know, I’m a changed man?’ He looked at Iris now, held her eyes for a second too long. ‘I’ve fallen in love, properly fallen in love.’
‘Oh?’ Surprise or alcohol fired up Archie’s eyes. ‘When did this happen?’
‘It’s been brewing for a while. Do not tell mother though, will you. As luck would have it, the lucky girl already has a bloke, so she hardly knows I exist.’ He smiled, didn’t want to overplay it, but he had a feeling he had piqued her interest. ‘Come on, it will be over before we get there.’
Iris drained her glass and gasped, she was no drinker. On their way to the dance floor, one of the local boys was taking photographs of the tables.
The Corcoran girl turned out to be a nifty dancer. She was just sixteen and built like Rita Hayworth. Robert figured in a few years’ time she’d be a farmer’s wife and hauling calves across ditches as if they were winter snowdrops. She rattled away into his ear, enjoying the daggers half the other girls in the room were giving her. He wasn’t listening to a word of it. He made all the right facial expressions, leant in close occasionally and laughed when it was required. Robert was only interested in Iris. He watched as she swayed to the music initially, her face flushed from the gin. Then she and Archie took to the floor, a little nervously at first, but she could dance. She could dance well enough to make Archie look like he knew what he was doing. Then again, anyone would look good with Iris. After four energetic jives, he nodded to Mrs O’Neill’s eldest son to slow things down a little. He made his excuses to Susan and walked over towards Archie and Iris.
‘May I borrow her?’ he said to Archie as he took her hand. ‘It’s just that Susan is only sixteen and I don’t want the bishop closing me down before we even get going on these tea dances, old boy.’ He smiled at Archie who was probably relieved not to have to attempt a waltz. Robert on the other hand was confident, smooth and elegant on the dance floor, just as he was with everything else in life. They danced the first dance in silence. He enjoyed having her in his arms, smelling her hairspray and the scent of ginger soap she used before she left the hotel.
The music broke before he held her away from him. They stood for a moment, looking at each other, not quite at arm’s length, but with enough room for the Holy Spirit to make his way between them if necessary.
‘So you’re in love now, are you?’ She arched an eyebrow in that way she had so he knew she was sceptical.
‘You think that’s strange?’
‘Robert, I may seem like a country bumpkin to you, but remember, I’ve lived in Paris for a year. I’ve seen more of life than you might imagine.’ Her eyes were a little glassy – the gin.
‘I never said I thought you were a country girl,’ he whispered as he pulled her in close. ‘What I said was that I didn’t think you should settle for someone like my brother. Anyway, what difference does it make what I might think of you?’ It was a dare.
‘I…’ she searched the room for Archie. ‘Of course, it makes no difference, I hope you and… whoever you are in love with are very happy together.’ She made to move away from him.
‘Why are you always angry with me?’
‘I’m not angry with you. I don’t feel anything at all for you, Robert.’
‘It sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself far more than you’re trying to convince me.’ He smiled at her. She had no answer to this, not immediately.
‘I can feel it too. This thing between us; but it’s nothing. There, that is what you want me to admit, isn’t it?’ She blew out a long breath of exasperation. ‘I’ve felt it since the first time we’ve met, if you want to know the truth of it.’
‘I knew you did, I just wasn’t sure if you realized what it was.’
‘Oh, I knew what it is all right, Robert. But, it’s toxic. You’re the kind of man who uses people.’ She was spitting the words and he had a feeling he was getting the brunt of her anger meant for someone else. ‘You belittle Archie at every turn, but the truth is, he’s decent and honourable, and even if he doesn’t drive a sports car, that doesn’t make him any less of a man.’
‘If you two end up together, God – Iris, there’s a real possibility you could die of boredom in that place.’ Robert didn’t dislike Archie, he just figured he was better than anyone else in the county, his brother included.
‘I don’t think so.’ She pulled away from him, looked him square in the eye. ‘Let that be an end of it now.’
Robert watched as she walked across towards Archie. Iris didn’t see the Corcoran girls give her daggers for captivating the richest man in the village from under their noses. It made no difference to him, he knew, that he was going to have her. He had no choice, it was already done, even if Iris didn’t realize it, the attraction was too strong.
*
Iris, Present
‘A rock star?’ Iris let the words float from her. If she wasn’t so worried about Archie, it might be exciting or at least interesting. ‘Never heard of him, sorry.’ But the name was familiar, she knew exactly who he was. He broke Kate’s heart, of course she knew who Todd Riggs was.
‘Well, it seems he’s quite the celebrity and he’s going to be living in Rock Castle.’ Annie Murphy loved to chat. She called every other week, dropped off a couple of magazines, drank some tea and then chatted away about whatever village gossip was currently doing the rounds. Iris suspected the church ladies set her upon them, or perhaps social services? They weren’t getting any younger, even if they sometimes forgot it themselves. ‘I’m sure Kate won’t be very happy about it though,’ she said now, sitting opposite her.
‘I’m sure she’s happy to have people like that about, it’ll bring more business to her.’
‘Apparently, she knew him, in London, quite well it seems. I don’t think she’ll be that keen.’
‘Well, she’s a good judge of ch
aracter; I’d say if she didn’t take to him there was good reason.’ Iris wasn’t going to put oil on the rumour mill. She placed the cover on the butter dish, her scones were still popular and she tried to bake a few times a week when the season was up and running. This year it seemed she was doing less in the hotel, with the local women taking over more of her duties. They were nice, she’d give them that. It was lovely to have a little female company in the kitchen while she set about her baking.
‘Lorna Simons – you know, her mother had the wool shop for a while? She’s certain that Kate and he – the singer were… you know…’ Annie couldn’t keep news to herself, never could. ‘Engaged, only he left her at the altar.’ For a Christian woman she really was a terrible newsbag, Iris thought to herself.
‘Ah well, you know it’s a good thing we never gossip,’ Iris said, hoping it might stop the conversation short. It was all some crazy mix-up. The village yappers realized that Kate had been engaged to Todd Riggs and now the castle was being renovated by some celebrity. It was some of the locals putting two and two together and coming up with twenty two. She wouldn’t even mention it to Kate – it would only worry her. Todd Riggs indeed!
‘Well, it’s not like she hasn’t made up for it since she came here. She has Colin Lyons practically running after her like a pet lamb since she arrived and we all know what he’s like…’ Annie pulled herself up once she saw Iris’s expression. Everyone knew Iris Hartley did not gossip.
After that, Iris found her gaze wandering often to the castle that overlooked the village. There had been a lot of speculation in the village as to what was going on up there – this was probably just idle chatter to fuel the hunger of the village chinwags.
More and more her mind wandered back to the past now. She wondered sometimes what might have been. If she had stayed in Paris with Mark, if Robert had not died, if Archie did not have scarlet fever as a child – then she would realize how futile all these questions were. Iris supposed it was a feature of getting older. Archie still pottered about the place, the weeks had made him slower now than before, but as always, he marched to the sound of his own drum. If occasionally he forgot the beat of that, Iris reminded him quickly and glossed over the lost expression in his eyes. Neither age nor pace seemed to fracture his resolve. He went about the hotel, greeting guests and bringing pots of tea or baskets of turf with equal dedication. All of the women loved Archie. He was a gentle man with a proud bearing, charming and funny and welcoming people with genuine warmth.
Some days, for her part, Iris thought the memories would flood her whole world. Mark had shared her thoughts with Robert for so many years, they filled her with guilt and longing. It grew to a hunger that could never be satisfied; living with it was her only hope. She had promised her mother when the darkness of the water let her down. She didn’t want to forget either of them, nor could she. She imagined she saw Robert walking along the pier one day, so vivid was he that she grabbed her coat to try to catch him up. Of course, when she reached the door, she knew she was too old to run along the promenade. It was all too long ago for Robert to be anything more than a ghost. She wondered sometimes if he watched her. She wondered if he taunted her by setting up home in her memories and never truly freeing her spirit for Archie. Archie, darling Archie. Many times over the years, she told herself she should never have married him. That night, that cruel, illicit, ferocious, wonderful night, she knew then that she would only be settling for Archie. Surely, he deserved more than that.
For years, she managed to push it from her memory. It tumbled out again, of course, rose up when she least expected it. Those hours, days and weeks of passion – they had stayed with her far longer than they had any right to haunt her. When she looked back, she knew, it was something she never experienced before or since in her life. It was heaven and hell; even more because she knew it could not last. It was all a heady emotional melange to digest.
‘You’re a million miles away, pet,’ Archie said to her when he came into the kitchen late one evening.
‘Oh, I’m just thinking,’ she said, but she knew he saw her tears. He had been her very best option, all those years ago. There was nothing for her in Paris, and Robert, she knew, deep down was no better than William Keynes. ‘Did you have a nice walk?’ He had been gone for most of the afternoon.
‘Oh, yes. I called into the bathhouse.’ He shook his jacket off, hung it on the hook behind the kitchen door. Iris was glad that Kate was there now. In the past she worried about him going down there alone. ‘Robert needs more turf; I told him I’d order an extra trailer from the Murphys, next time I see one of the lads in town.’ His voice never changed and Iris didn’t correct him anymore. It only made him anxious. Soon they would be talking about Kate, the present tense, safer ground. He would remember that Robert wasn’t there anymore. Iris told herself that this was just a slip and everything was fine, really.
‘Goodness, it’s almost seven. Where did that go to?’ It was true. She had sat down at the kitchen table to prepare tomorrow’s breakfasts and that was almost three hours ago. The oats remained untouched before her. Time was slipping from her, just as the memories were slipping past Archie, and it was slipping fast.
14
Kate
Kate had the oddest feeling, as though she was being watched. She looked up towards the castle, her eyes drawn there against the evening sun. Unfinished business? That was the feeling. She saw the two people at the top window of the tower. Rumours were rife of course in the village, since the ‘For Sale’ sign came down, but she was not one for gossip. The tower was sold that was all she knew.
‘Probably,’ Archie said, ‘to the fisheries, or the Department of the Marine. Who else would want a draughty old tower that hadn’t a decent room in it to make a cup of tea?’
Colin thought it was all nonsense. No one had been near the tower in years and now some of the locals were getting a small fortune for a big clean-up job on it.
‘You must be getting very wealthy neighbours,’ he joked when he dropped in one morning.
‘Well, let’s hope they like pastries and seaweed baths, eh?’ She laughed at him and playfully slapped his hand when he tried to help himself to an almond slice. Their relationship had settled into an easy friendship, only occasionally she felt an undercurrent of what might have passed between them.
When Kate closed up the bathhouse for the evening and sat outside to enjoy the view, she often felt like pinching herself. Life was so good, it could be just a dream. She had been lucky and less often now she thought about the life that might have been. The husband, children, public school, and stellar career – she was exactly where she was meant to be. She felt as though she had been rooted in this place long before she was born. Everything was ticking along perfectly.
‘If this keeps up for the whole summer we’ll have broken even by the year’s end,’ she said to Rita as they closed up shop one evening.
‘If this keeps up I’ll have baked the equivalent of K2 in fruit scones,’ Rita said, laughing.
‘Is it too much for you?’ Kate worried about Rita. She seemed to have something on her mind all the time. She knew that things were not good at home. She had met Duncan once, hadn’t warmed to him. He reminded her of an alligator with plastic hair. She had heard the village gossip that he was seeing some girl that was half his age and fond of his wallet. Rita confirmed it when she confided in her.
‘Been at it for a while, but he’s afraid to leave me in case it’ll cost him too much.’
‘It’s not a reason to stay together, Rita.’ They weren’t a couple that Kate would have put together from word go.
‘Ah, it’s not so bad. I mean, Barry and I, we make the most of it. I couldn’t imagine living anywhere else and, to be honest, I’m not even sure that I’d get to keep the house if we went alerting the taxman to half of Duncan’s business interests.’
‘I could help, you know, maybe with…’ she meant everything, but she didn’t want to say divorce. In all of
her career, she’d never encouraged anyone to break up their marriage, even if she felt very strongly that it would be the best thing they could do. Instead, she waved her hands about the place, to cover any help she could give.
‘Listen, Kate, no offence, but even when you make sandwiches it stresses me out. I hate to break it to you, boss, but you’re no natural in the kitchen.’ Rita smiled, moving the conversation away from Duncan – perhaps she was happy exacting her own kind of payment out of him. A lifetime of antihistamines and a trail of Barry’s destruction to Duncan’s expensive shoes might be repayment enough for an unhappy marriage.
‘I know. I never realized how fast I’d have to move here. I really thought it would just be an occasional toasty and a pot of tea.’ She looked around the tearooms. The girls were putting the place to rights; another hectic day over. ‘Not that I’m complaining mind, I love when it’s busy.’
‘Your bank manager will love it too, I’m sure,’ Rita said, smiling. Kate hadn’t told anyone that she was operating the bathhouse out of her savings. She had a feeling that not too many people in Ballytokeep would have a couple of hundred thousand lying idle in a bank account.
*
They quickly settled into a routine of sorts. Kate rose when the sun shone bright through her bedroom window. She wandered down to the tearooms and set the ovens on, made a morning cuppa and was just about to tuck into breakfast most days when Colin arrived with the morning papers. The ovens warmed up the bathhouse first thing, so by the time Rita arrived, it was just a question of popping the day’s baking in and then waiting for the aroma to fill the place. Rita did some of her prep the evening before and while things were still busy, she spent most of the day churning out fresh bread, scones and cakes.
