Maggie told Kitty all about Grace’s birthday dinner and how wonderful it would be if something happened between Grace and their new neighbour.
‘They’re just made for each other,’ she said, delighted with herself, ‘but a mother as you know can only do so much!’
‘Tell me about it!’ Kitty said, recalling all the ups and downs with Orla and Liam’s relationship before they had finally got engaged. ‘What about coming into town again next week to have a look at some shoes?’ coaxed her sister as they ate salmon and spinach quiche and a green tossed salad.
As they said goodbye after lunch Maggie found herself agreeing to join forces with Kitty on another shopping expedition but hoped that accessory shopping would be a bit easier all round.
On Grafton Street there was a young rock guitarist with an amp and electric guitar entertaining the crowds. Believing talent should be encouraged, she dropped a euro in his box, before running into Clarendon Street Church to say her usual prayers for Leo and the family and to light a candle for poor old Oscar Lynch.
The last time she’d gone to see her elderly neighbour he had just moved from the hospital to Oak Park, an expensive nursing home in Blackrock. He’d been tetchy and unsettled, anxious to come home but far too frail to manage living on his own. Browsing in the bookshop on St Stephen’s Green she’d bought him one of those big Sudoku number puzzle books before getting back on the tram and leaving town.
She almost fell in the door of number 23, so relieved was she to be home. She kicked off the torture of her shoes and shoved on her cosy slippers as she left the clutter of bags at the bottom of the stairs and made straight for the kitchen for a cup of reviving coffee and a biscuit.
She was just about to switch on the kettle when she realized that Irina had fallen asleep on the comfy two-seater couch near the patio door. The Polish girl’s face was pale and she looked exhausted. God knows what time she had got up for work this morning. She killed herself working, thought Maggie, and seemed to go from job to job. She’d let her sleep undisturbed and silently made her own mug of coffee and went off and put her own feet up in the sitting room with a copy of the Irish Times.
An hour later she returned to the kitchen. ‘Are you all right, Irina?’ she asked softly, not wanting to frighten the young woman.
‘Oh, Mrs Ryan, I am so sorry. I must have sat down for a minute after I finished doing the vacuum cleaning and gone to sleep.’
‘It’s all right, Irina, we all get tired,’ Maggie reassured her, ‘Maybe you had a late night last night?’
‘No, but I woke up early this morning. It is noisy in the house, and I have to get up by six a.m. if I want to get the bus at six thirty.’
‘Did you have a proper breakfast?’
‘A coffee and a doughnut in the newsagent’s after we open up and do all the newspapers and serve the early morning customers. It gets very busy and I restock the shelves before I get the bus and come here.’
‘Irina! Is it any wonder you’re exhausted!’
‘I was going to make a hot drink when I must have fallen asleep. You are angry with me?’
‘No, not at all,’ soothed Maggie, ‘I’m just concerned. You get up so early and work so hard and don’t seem to have proper time to eat and rest.’
‘I have to work to make money to pay my rent and to save,’ exclaimed Irina tearfully. ‘I work as hard as I can but things in Ireland are expensive.’
‘I know,’ said Maggie gently, sitting down beside her. ‘But you must remember to take care of yourself. Have you eaten?’
‘A slice of toast and coffee would be fine, thank you, Mrs Ryan.’
‘No,’ insisted Maggie, ‘I’ll cook you something.’
Taking some eggs from the fridge and onions and tomatoes and a little bit of ham she cooked up a filling fluffy omelette as Irina set the table, telling her how in Poland they often added a dash of paprika and potato to the omelette.
‘Would you think of moving nearer your work?’ suggested Maggie.
‘I would if I could afford to,’ said Irina seriously. ‘But the rents are so high we must share with a lot of people to pay the landlord. It is difficult. At home in Poland it is so much cheaper to rent than here.’
‘What if it was possible . . .?’ said Maggie, an idea fermenting in her mind as she thought of poor old Oscar and his predicament. Perhaps with a little matching she might be able to help solve two people’s problems and they could help each other . . . ‘What if there was a job coming up where there was accommodation in return for doing some housework, a bit of cleaning and cooking, and just keeping somebody company. Do you think you might be interested?’
‘I don’t understand,’ said Irina, looking at her dubiously.
‘I have a friend who at present and probably for the foreseeable future is in need of extra help in his home. He’s elderly and lives on his own in a large house, which is perhaps too much for him to manage,’ confided Maggie. ‘I’m not sure he would be interested in such an arrangement but I promise I will talk to him about it, see what he thinks.’
‘Where does your friend live?’ she questioned.
‘Close by,’ said Maggie, hoping that Oscar Lynch might be open to her idea.
‘Oh, I would definitely be interested, Mrs Ryan,’ repeated Irina again and again as they sat down to eat.
Maggie was glad to see that despite her slim frame Irina had a healthy appetite.
Oscar was in his blazer and pressed grey trousers when she called to Oak Park convalescent home two days later. He looked exhausted, his grey hair neatly combed, his face thin and pale. It was only three weeks since he’d moved to the home after his surgery and he’d point blank refused the offer of a long-term bed there.
‘I’m not a geriatric,’ he’d complained indignantly. ‘Not yet.’
‘Of course you’re not,’ she soothed, fussing over him.
‘It’s just that I’m finding it hard to walk and impossible to bend down,’ he complained. ‘It’s a bit of a setback as the doctor and the physiotherapist said I need at least an extra month here. The blasted hip is healing up but it’s just taking longer than I planned.’
Maggie tried to hide her smile at seeing him so grumpy and gave him the lovely fresh fruit and little cakes she’d brought plus the big book of Sudoku puzzles she’d got for him. ‘It’ll help pass the time,’ she said, girding herself to broach the subject of how he was going to manage when he finally came home.
‘Oscar, you really are going to need to get someone in to help you when you move back to Pleasant Square,’ she said firmly.
‘I have thought about it,’ he admitted as he lowered himself haltingly on to the chair beside his bed, Maggie automatically reaching to help him. ‘I’ve always been independent, looked after myself and Elizabeth, but now with this hip it is going to be a bit trickier than I had imagined.’
‘Perhaps you should have someone to live in?’ she suggested.
‘A carer!’ he argued tetchily. ‘I’m not one of those demented old men that needs a minder.’
‘I didn’t mean that, I just meant maybe someone could stay in the house while you’re recuperating and help out with cleaning and cooking and doing messages and just keeping an eye on things,’ she said slowly, watching his reaction from out of the corner of her eye.
‘I don’t know where you would find someone like that! How would you trust them not to rob you or take advantage of you?’
‘Well, Oscar you’d have to trust them,’ insisted Maggie, ‘and I think I might know exactly the right person. She’s looking for somewhere to rent that is reasonable and is willing to work and help out in return.’ She could see she had sparked his interest. ‘Irina is a charming, hard-working young woman,’ she said. ‘She came to Ireland from Poland over a year ago and has been working for me since then. She is totally reliable and trustworthy and the two of you would be helping each other out.’
‘Where would this person stay?’
‘Well, you have thr
ee spare bedrooms.’
‘I don’t want anyone else living on top of me,’ he protested. ‘Besides, Elizabeth would never approve of a strange woman sharing the house with me.’
‘What about the basement?’ suggested Maggie.
‘The surgery! All my dental equipment is still there.’
‘Well, I’m sure it could be moved,’ she persisted. ‘Now that you’re retired, you’ll hardly have need of it again.’
‘I suppose you’re right, Maggie. It’s like an old museum down there.’
‘Sarah and Evie love living in our basement,’ she said encouragingly. ‘We all have a bit of privacy and yet company and support and help are only a few steps away.’
‘I can see how it might work,’ he ventured. ‘It’s just trying to organize it and move the chair and the equipment and all my stuff and then having to clean it up and paint it.’
‘Listen, Oscar, Grace is bound to know a few people in her line of business who would do it. I’ll ask her.’
‘Then we will see,’ agreed Oscar, running his long fingers over his forehead.
‘Would you like me to arrange for you to meet Irina? I could bring her to visit you.’
‘As long as she knows this is only a temporary arrangement. Once I’m on my feet properly again and back to full strength I might not need her.’
‘Don’t worry, Irina will understand,’ she reassured him.
Chapter Thirty-seven
Maggie was busy putting out her summer bedding plants when she spotted Angus walking along the garden path with a pretty dark-haired girl.
He smiled and stopped on the lawn. ‘Maggie, let me introduce you to my girlfriend, Megan.’
The Scottish girl! She was curious to meet the girl her young tenant was so devoted to. For once his girlfriend had made the effort to come and visit him in Dublin. She could see straight away that Megan had that stylish model look with her short dark hair, porcelain white face, big dark eyes and long skinny legs. She looked as if she hadn’t eaten for months and that a bit of garden work would make her keel over as she was so fragile. Men seemed to go for that anorexic type these days!
‘How long are you over in Ireland for?’ Maggie asked, trying to be mannerly and hiding her clay-covered hands.
‘Just a few days,’ she said. ‘Angus is giving me a quick tour of Dublin and then we’re going off to Kilkenny for two nights.’
Maggie had heard that Megan had point blank refused to move to Dublin with Angus and complained bitterly the weekends he did not return home to Scotland.
‘That’ll be nice,’ she remarked, ‘it’s always interesting to visit new places. I remember the time Leo and I went to Edinburgh, Ireland was playing Scotland and Leo had managed to get two tickets for the rugby match and . . .’ She was just about to describe their trip when she saw Megan tug at Angus’s arm. ‘Sorry, I’m holding the two of you up, away off and enjoy yourselves. I’m trying to get this done before I have to head out. I’m going to see poor old Oscar.’
‘Give him my best,’ said Angus. ‘And tell him I’ll call on him when he gets home.’
Maggie had to admit that Megan was a lot prettier than she had expected. Was it any wonder Angus was smitten? Because now that she had actually materialized Angus couldn’t be considered a prospective partner for anyone.
Maggie continued her garden work as she wanted to get the whole tray of begonias in before Irina arrived. She’d promised to take her over to Oak Park today to meet Oscar properly and have a chat with him. She laughed when she saw poor Sarah, lugging an enormous basket of washing, bumping into Angus and Megan. Sarah was looking rather bedraggled in cut-off denim jeans, a U2 T-shirt and a pair of a sandals, her fair hair dragged up in a ponytail while Megan was in an immaculate cream short jacket over a tightly fitting black skirt and high heels which made her legs look impossibly long. Evie raced around them all with her football. Sarah and Megan were introduced and she thanked heaven that Sarah was at least chatty and friendly though Evie was pestering Angus to play football for a minute with her.
‘OK, OK.’ Angus gave in and spent a few minutes showing Evie how to dribble the ball up and down the lawn as the two girls looked on.
‘Angus,’ said Megan peevishly, ‘I thought that we were going shopping.’
‘All right.’ He grinned good-naturedly, passing the ball back to Evie as he followed Megan to the lane where his car was parked.
Dropping the basket, Sarah came over to Maggie.
‘Well, what did you think of her?’ Maggie asked, putting aside her trowel.
‘She’s really beautiful,’ sighed Sarah. ‘Why do guys always fall for girls who look like that?’
‘Not always,’ said Maggie gently, seeing the deflated look in her daughter’s eyes.
‘Well, Angus is mad about her,’ she said vehemently as she turned to go back inside.
Maggie sighed seeing the spark of envy that Megan had ignited in her normally calm, easy-going daughter. She wondered what had possessed the young Scotsman to get himself embroiled with someone like Megan.
She was just finishing up, watering her plants with the watering can, when Irina appeared. She was taken aback to see Irina had made such an effort: instead of her usual jeans, jumper and boots she was wearing a pale pink dress, a little cardigan and neat flat shoes. Her hair was washed and gleaming to meet her elderly neighbour.
‘You look lovely, my dear,’ Maggie complimented her.
‘I want Mr Oscar to like me,’ she said simply.
Mr Oscar did like her, and Maggie left the two of them talking like two old friends about Warsaw and some Polish opera company that she had never heard of as she took a stroll around the grounds of the convalescent home. On her return Oscar announced his agreement to Irina coming to live with him temporarily.
‘Thank you, Maggie dear, for introducing us, and I’m sure that Irina and I will get along fine. You’re right, it will be good to have someone staying with me till I am back on my feet and able to manage again.’
Irina’s eyes were shining and Maggie felt enormous relief that one of her plans had worked out and that Oscar would have someone to take care of him over the next few months.
Chapter Thirty-eight
Sarah was engrossed trying to draw Mr Bones, the story of the dog detective with his big nose and ears always searching for clues inspired by the mutt they met every week at the butcher’s. She giggled as she drew a leaf floating down towards his nose. Her phone rang and she grabbed it, still laughing.
‘Well, you sound in good form.’ She recognized the voice immediately. It was Mick’s cousin Ronan calling from London. It was a few weeks since they’d met. He was returning to Dublin next weekend and wondered if she would be interested in joining him and a group of friends for supper. ‘We’re going to that nice place in Sandymount village: Mario’s. The table’s booked for eight thirty.’
‘That sounds great!’
‘What about meeting there?’
‘Perfect,’ she agreed.
‘I enjoyed our chat in Karen and Mick’s,’ he admitted. ‘I was on an early flight to Heathrow the next morning so I slept at their place. I’ve invited them along on Saturday too.’
Great, thought Sarah, at least I’ll definitely know someone else. Putting down the phone a few minutes later she couldn’t believe that he had got in touch with her and asked her to dinner. OK, so it wasn’t a proper romantic dinner date, but he had phoned and asked her out. She had tried blind dates and speed dating before – with zero success, seeming to attract only oddballs and weirdos – and lately had even toyed with the idea of internet dating, but was rather nervous about it. Having Ronan ask her out definitely sounded like much more fun. All she had to do was to organize a babysitter!
Sarah couldn’t believe it, her mother was busy, going to the Abbey Theatre with her friends Fran and Rhona on Saturday night.
‘I could cancel if you’re stuck,’ she offered. ‘Who is it you are going out to dinner with anyway?
Is it a man?’
‘No, Mum, it’s just a thing with Karen and Mick and a few others. Don’t worry, I’ll get someone else.’ Her mum enjoyed her trips to the theatre with her friends and it wasn’t fair to ask her to forgo something she had probably organized weeks ago. But she was disconcerted to discover her two sisters were by freak coincidence both away the coming weekend. Anna was taking a student group to a seminar on Paddy Kavanagh’s poetry in Monaghan and Grace was in Manchester and had organized to stay overnight.
‘Maybe you could change your dinner date,’ suggested Grace. ‘Then I could babysit for you.’
Well, she couldn’t do that, so Sarah trawled through the small list of local teenagers and students she normally used. Sinead had college exams, Lucy Conway was sick with tonsillitis and Aoife Mulligan had recently got a job as a barmaid in one of the local pubs and had given up babysitting. Disaster: she had absolutely no one to mind Evie.
Later that evening she was in the middle of putting her to bed when Angus called at the kitchen door.
‘Let me settle her, Angus. Then we can have a cup of coffee.’
Evie wanted to show Angus the new books she’d got from the library.
‘If I read you one, will you promise to be good and go to sleep straight afterwards? Deal?’ he offered
‘Deal,’ agreed Evie. Sarah wondered how on earth it was that Evie would behave for him when sometimes it took her ages to get her to quiet down. She put on the kettle and rooted around for the malted milk chocolate biscuits that Angus liked. She listened at the bedroom door as Angus read the story of The Princess and the Pea in his soft Scottish accent, Evie quiet and enthralled, the two of them chatting easily when he was finished. Angus rounded off the storytelling with a Scottish lullaby. Afterwards he sat at the bedside saying nothing for a while until Evie turned over and, snuggling up to her big white teddy, fell asleep.
‘Angus, you’re a wonder-worker!’ she praised him. ‘I wish that I could get her off to bed so easily every night.’
‘I seem to have a way with getting kids to go to bed,’ he joked. ‘Not so sure about the grown-up females of the species though!’
The Matchmaker Page 20
