Outside the church, Catherine caught the bouquet of flowers thrown as per tradition by “Punctual” Mary and looked at Henry. Henry did not catch the look because at that moment Bobby and “High” passed, heading for the police car. ‘See you soon?’ Henry called after the departing pair.
‘Come on folks,’ called the photographer, trying to get the group lined up for the traditional photographs.
‘It’s a day to remember,’ Liam whispered to his bride, kissing her gently on the cheek. It’s supposed to be the most exciting day of your life but this is carrying things too far. Who was that family shouting about a pregnancy? Did you know them? And then the police…?’
“Punctual” Mary placed her arm around her new husband’s waist and squeezed him gently. ‘Never saw them before. Anyway, it is all on videotape. In years to come we will sit back and have a good laugh. And do you know…’
‘Know what?’ asked Liam.
‘That we are running over an hour late and I feel comfortable. I could be on my way to beating my obsession with time.’
‘Just the bride and groom in the next shot,’ ordered the stills photographer, grabbing the couple and moving them to one side. ‘Now look into each other’s eyes. Perfect! Hold it there.’
At that moment, “Low” passes, escorting the parish priest. Suddenly a loud cry comes from the church and Stephen Moore the postman comes running out. ‘My bike…! My bike…! They have stolen my bike!’ Then, remembering the letters… ‘They have stolen my mail! Call the police! Call the police!’ Stephen stops as he sees the police car parked outside the front gate.
‘I am a police officer,’ “Low” announces, stepping forward. ‘What happened?’
‘I left my bicycle inside the church entrance for a few moments to say a few prayers and now it’s gone. I have been leaving my bike there for years…’ The postman suddenly remembered his pension. ‘I’m going to lose my pension. I have only a few months to go to retirement. I’m going to lose my pension.’
The postman became so distraught that he began calling for a policeman again.
‘Oh my God! Oh my God!’ exclaimed the shocked parish priest. In the course of a few hours he had missed an important conference; been accused of impregnating a woman; taken in for questioning and now this robbery in his church ‘Where is the God that I have served faithfully for years?’ he asked, going down on his knees and praying.
“Low” looked skywards as if looking for the same God. Sometimes being a detective could be a pain in the ass.
To mollify the distraught postman, he said, ‘Come along to the station and make a statement. If we have a description of the bicycle, we may be able to catch the culprit.’ Some hope, he thought.
As the trio departed, Liam called the young man videotaping the wedding over to his side. ‘Did you get all that on tape?’
‘Did I ever,’ the young man replied. ‘We have enough material on tape to make several episodes of a popular soap opera.
With the distractions out of the way, the photographer finished his wedding shoot in speedy fashion and the party departed to the reception venue at the “Worker’s Inn”.
“Curly’s” staff surpassed themselves and worked wonders with the private room. White clothes decked the tables and garlands hung from the ceilings. After the wedding party were seated, a catering company served a four-course meal. Dr. Hogan, standing in as best man for Bobby Byrnes, made a fine speech and finished off with a reference - directed at “Punctual” Mary – that she always have the time for sexual games with her husband, irrespective of headaches.
After the meal the tables were cleared and the music started. “Curly” did himself proud with a four-piece band that played a selection of old and new tunes. The women danced with Liam and the men kept “Punctual” Mary busy on the dance floor.
‘Are you happy, love?’ Liam asked his bride when he finally got to dance with her.
‘I’ll let you know when we get to our honeymoon hotel.’ The bride moved her feet to avoid being stamped on by her far from expert husband and kissed him gently on the cheek.
Time passed and just before the departure of the bride and groom, Bobby Byrnes returned.
‘What happened?’ Liam asked, curiosity getting the better of him.
Bobby finished most of his first drink in one swallow before replying. ‘They questioned me in relation to a ramming incident that occurred at the Social Welfare office. I told them about my business meeting at the time of the incident. So, as soon as they checked my alibi out they let me go.’
Liam’s ears picked up at the sound of the word “alibi” and he smiled.
‘Do you know what happened to the priest?’
‘We were both released together and shared a taxi here. He is shattered. He has gone back to pack. Say’s he cannot face his parishioners. He told me that he expects to spend six months abroad receiving treatment. Apparently, a mix-up over the name O’Connor led to the parish priest’s arrest. And we know another O’Connor, don’t we?’
Liam nodded to signify that he understood.
‘And I don’t see him here?’
‘He never turned up. I suppose that family that turned up in church has something to do with it. And there is the missing bicycle and mail…’
‘I heard the whole story about the bicycle in the car that took us to the station.’
‘Before you go on your honeymoon, I want to wish you all the best for the future. You know where to find me if you want me.’
The two friends shook hands.
Later, as the taxi pulled away taking the married couple to their honeymoon hotel, Patrick and Henry stood on the kerb and watched the vehicle accelerate out of sight. ‘Do you think the marriage will last?’ the doctor asked his friend.
Patrick rubbed his chin and after a minute replied; ‘Only time will tell, Henry. Only time will tell.’
Chapter 33
The Postman
The postman whistled as he turned his bicycle into Highbury Close, an exclusive cul-de-sac of thirty houses. Dismounting from the bicycle, the postman searched through the mail until he found a letter. Leaving the bicycle propped up against a wall, the postman opened the ornate gate and walked to the door numbered 12. Opening the letterbox, he slipped the letter through the slot where it landed face side up on the carpet. The writing on the letter read 21, Highbury Close and contained divorce papers for a man residing at that address. In twenty-four hours, all the details of his divorce would be known around the cul- de- sac.
The next house visited by the whistling postman happened to be numbered 15, the residence of an elderly woman. The small parcel dropped through this letterbox bore the address 25, Highbury Close and contained a selection of fruit flavoured condoms destined for a frisky lady at that address. Within a day, the woman started to get cheeky grins and winks from all the men living in the cull-de- sac.
Happy with his deliveries, “Corner” fastened the straps on the postbag and cycled away from the cul-de-sac.
Postcards to America Page 16
