Two bright spots appeared on the old lady’s cheeks and her eyes became suspiciously bright. ‘I couldn’t think of anything nicer, either,’ she agreed. ‘I’ll put the place up for sale and see how we get on.’ Arm-in-arm they set out for mass.
‘That was a lovely mass and wasn’t the choir beautiful?’ Molly declared happily as they strolled back to the bedsit.
‘I thought you’d like it. That’s why I brought you back to Ballygall parish,’ Claire explained. She could have taken her mother to the nearer church in Glasnevin, but the choir at the eleven-thirty mass in Ballygall was beautiful and there was something special about the warmth and community spirit of that parish she had lived in for so long that made her feel as though she belonged. When David died, the priests had been so kind to her and people she didn’t even know had consoled her after the funeral mass. When people gave the handshake of peace in Ballygall it was genuine. She knew Molly would enjoy the mass. Claire was only hoping she wouldn’t bump into Sean. After all it was the mass they had always attended throughout their marriage.
She had phoned Sean twice after she left him. The first time he had told her to leave him alone and not to be annoying him. The second time he had just hung up, his anger almost palpable on the phone. After that, she didn’t bother. She didn’t want any more rows; she just wanted to live her life in peace and quiet. She would have stayed in contact if he had wanted to. He didn’t so that was that. Slowly, bit by bit, Claire began to make a new life for herself.
Molly went home and made plans to put the house on the market. She begged Claire to use the money from the sale to buy them a little house somewhere in the area instead of getting a flat together as Claire had planned. ‘Child, you’ll be getting it anyway when I die. Wouldn’t it be better for us to have our own place than to be paying money in rent?’ Molly pointed out reasonably.
‘But it’s your money,’ Claire protested.
‘If you don’t agree I’m not coming to Dublin,’ Molly answered, but her eyes were twinkling. Claire could see that she was really looking forward to coming to live with her. It was as if she had taken on a new lease of life and she had gone back to Knockross on the train full of plans. Claire had never realized just how lonely her mother was. Molly had always seemed so self-sufficient. Claire began to look forward to the change herself. Just think, to be able to decorate a place of their own the way they wanted with no Billy or Sean to dictate to them. She began to frequent the estate agents. They wouldn’t be able to decide on anything until they saw how much the house in Knockross would go for. But there was no harm in looking.
Then Sean had a heart attack. His headmaster rang her at work to tell her that he had been rushed to hospital and that she should go there as soon as possible. She left work dry-mouthed. What would happen now? Was he going to die? If he lived, he’d need nursing. Was she going to have to give up her precious hard-won peaceful new lifestyle to look after her husband? After all, she was married to him and that’s where her duty lay. Standing in the lift as it slowly made its way up to the coronary care unit on the seventh floor of the Mater Hospital, Claire felt as though she was starting to fall apart. Her palms were sweating and those old panicky fluttery butterfly feelings were coming back. ‘I cast this burden on the Christ within and I go free,’ she murmured aloud to herself in the empty lift, remembering the prayer that Emma had taught her to resort to in times of trouble. The place was so quiet! As she had been instructed, she pressed the bell for admittance to the CCU. A nurse met her and told her gently that Sean had suffered a heart attack and was unconscious but that they did not yet know how bad it was. He lay in a small cubicle with wires coming from everywhere which were attached to the monitors that the nurses could see on their consoles outside. Numbly she sat beside him. She’d have to go home and get some things for him. In the raised bed he somehow looked small and shrunken and he had aged terribly. Although he was only fifty-six, he looked nearer to seventy at that moment. If he died, they would not have made their peace and she would have to live with that for the rest of her life. It would be another burden to be added to the ones she already carried. Claire left the ward and went to phone Rosie. Her friend came over immediately and took control of the situation as she saw the state of her shaken friend. ‘Right, we’ll stop by the house and get Sean’s things and you can ring Suzy.’
‘Suzy! God, yes, she’ll have to be told,’ Claire responded, hating to have to ring her daughter with such news. Suzy, shocked, said she’d be on the next available flight. Claire felt physically sick as she walked up the garden path of her old home, remembering that awful day when she had found David. As quickly as she could, with Rosie’s help, she packed all the things that Sean would need, reading from the list the nurse had given her. Rosie insisted that Claire stay with her in Howth that night. They met Suzy at the airport the next day and went straight to the hospital. There were no set visiting times in the CCU and as Suzy went in to sit with her father, Claire and Rosie stood at the big window on the seventh floor that gave a view of the whole of the city from Howth to Bray. ‘I’ll have to go back and look after him if he gets over this,’ Claire said quietly.
‘Now don’t make any hasty decisions, Claire!’ Rosie warned. ‘You owe him nothing. You’ve got to think of yourself.’
‘I’d feel as guilty as hell if I didn’t.’ Claire bit back the tears that threatened. She had clawed her way to a semblance of peace and serenity after all these years and now it looked like her life was in tatters again.
‘Dad’s awake.’ Suzy came out to her mother, looking strained and tired. ‘He can’t really talk much.’ Squaring her shoulders Claire walked down along the hushed corridor of the CCU, her footsteps the only sound. Standing by her husband’s bedside, Claire saw his eyelids flicker. ‘You don’t have to stay here,’ he said, gracious as ever.
‘I know that, Sean,’ she said quietly, sitting down beside him.
‘Suit yourself,’ he murmured and drifted back asleep.
As the days passed and the danger of another attack lessened, Sean was moved down to a general ward. It was as though an unspoken truce had been declared between him and Claire for the time being. They spoke about general things, never referring to their situation. Suzy stayed for a week and she stayed in the bedsit with Claire. When she went to visit him for the last time before her return to France, Sean kissed his daughter awkwardly and told her to look after herself.
‘I’m going to go into a convalescent home for a month or two. The doctors think it’s the best thing for me to do,’ he told Claire on her visit the next day, and a wave of relief passed through her. She continued to visit him two or three times a week after he was transferred to the small well-run convalescent home. And she had to admit that it was doing him the world of good. He was eating properly, taking regular exercise as prescribed by his doctors and after his brush with death he was much less regimented and repressed.
‘I’ve decided to take an early retirement,’ he told her one day, several weeks later. ‘I’ll be getting a good lump sum and pension and I’ve made quite a bit of money out of investments over the years.’ This was news to Claire, but typical of her husband, she decided. Well good luck to him, she didn’t want his money. ‘I’m thinking of going back to Drogheda to live with Martha.’ Martha was his unmarried sister and they were close in their own way.
‘That’s a good idea, Sean. You love Drogheda and it would be a nice place to retire to,’ Claire said.
‘Do you want to move back to the house?’ he asked her.
Claire shook her head. She could never live in that house again. It held too many unhappy memories.
‘We’ll sell it then. Whatever I get for it, you and Suzy can have to get a place of your own.’
Claire couldn’t believe her ears. Was this Sean talking? He saw the shock on her face. ‘Ah . . . I’ve been talking to a priest here, a very nice fellow. He made me look at a few things differently. You’ve as much stake in that house as I have and it’s my duty to pr
ovide for Suzy. So that’s what we’ll do.’
‘God, it must have affected his brain.’ Rosie was stunned when she heard Claire’s astounding news. ‘I hope you’re taking the money and running!’ she added sternly as she saw the look of confused indecision on Claire’s face.
‘I don’t want to be beholden to him!’ Claire murmured doubtfully.
‘Beholden my arse! You’re entitled to that money, Claire, all those years when you never got a penny out of him! It’s about bloody time he had an attack of conscience. Nothing like a near miss to put the fear of God in you and make you mend your ways,’ snorted Rosie. ‘You take that money, my lady, and don’t feel one bit bad about it! It’s your due!’
‘Mother, don’t you dare refuse that offer,’ Suzy ordered, down the telephone line from France. ‘Dad’s obviously trying to make amends and whatever you get you deserve ten times as much. For him to go and retire to Drogheda with his family is perfect for him. Now you think of yourself and go and get a nice place to live with Nana, some place where I’ll be able to come and visit in comfort.’
Claire put down the phone, not knowing whether she was on her head or her heels. Lying in her divan, listening to the relentless rain beating against the window, Claire smiled as she thought of Suzy. Her daughter hadn’t come home for Christmas. She had gone skiing in Gstaad with the family she was au pairing with. At the end of January she was taking up a position as stewardess on a Cunard cruise liner. The world was her oyster.
Claire went down to stay with Molly on Christmas Eve, relieved to know that Sean was much improved and was quite happy to be back in Drogheda with his sister. Their house in Ballygall was up for sale. Molly, too, had a For Sale sign outside the cottage and she told Claire happily that she had several interested parties who were making good offers. ‘I’m really looking forward to going to live in Dublin but are you sure you still want me to come?’ she enquired anxiously, after Claire had told her all about Sean and the house. ‘Sure, you might want to get back with him and start off afresh in a new place.’
‘No, Mum, I’d never go back to Sean. I could never live with him again. We’re better off the way we are. We keep in touch by phone. He’s happy in Drogheda and he’s delighted to be retired from teaching – it was getting to be an awful strain on him. He can potter about his garden all day to his heart’s content and I can get on and do something with my life. And more than anything I’d love to have you up in Dublin with me.’ They spent Christmas making plans and Claire went back to her bedsit determined that the bad times were behind her and convinced that the only way she could go was up.
Now, listening to the rain drumming down, watching the flames flickering brightly in the grate, she stretched contentedly, reached down beside the bed and picked up one of the Sunday papers she had bought late the night before. It was one of the English tabloids with the magazine and she thoroughly enjoyed it. Sean had always called them the lowest of the low and wouldn’t permit them in the house, but now that she was her own woman and could buy what she liked she always bought one of them, enjoying reading the gossip about Fergie and Di and the rest. Not that she didn’t buy the other papers. She had read the Independent, and she’d keep the Sunday Press for later. Feeling peckish, she made a pot of tea, put some paté and crackers on a tray and got back into bed. Later in the afternoon, she’d ring out for a Chinese meal to be delivered and that would take care of dinner. She was really pampering herself today, living the life of a lady.
And why not? You deserve it, Claire told herself firmly as she munched on her paté and crackers. Laying down the tray, she picked up Suzy’s stocking-filler of a Christmas present. Be Your Own Boss, A Guide to Starting Your Own Business by Terry Prone and Frances Stephenson. Claire plumped up her pillows and settled back comfortably. She was as far as chapter five which covered ‘Getting started’. She was spending the New Year with Rosie and their plans for their new enterprise were well underway. Claire had handed in her notice at work and as she became engrossed in the book, she decided happily that 1991 was going to be the year her life would change completely.
LAINEY
Thursday 2 August 1990
Lainey watched in disbelief as the television pictures showed Iraqi tanks rolling into Kuwait. It wasn’t too long since she had flown into Kuwait International Airport and now here she was, sitting in Dominic’s apartment, watching Saddam Hussein invade that small country. There was going to be trouble there, no doubt about it. Just as well she was home to stay.
She had made a lot of money in Saudi, especially in the last eighteen months that she had been purser, but she was glad to be finished. It had been an enriching experience. She had seen many places and travelled the world during her time as a stewardess, eaten the finest foods, gone scuba-diving in the Red Sea, snorkeling off the Great Barrier Reef, visited the Pyramids of Egypt, seen Paris in the springtime and New York in the fall. But she’d worked hard. It was tough being a stewardess on any airline but Eastern Gulf had been a tough number, with its male Arab passengers, clicking their fingers, calling, ‘Sister, sister, get me this, get me that. What is the direction of Mecca?’
‘I’m not your bloody sister, thank God,’ she would swear under her breath, sorely tempted to point them in the wrong direction as they knelt, clogging up the aisles, when it was time to pray. Being an air-hostess was not all glamour, Lainey conceded. Nevertheless it was an interesting, responsible job and she was not the ‘glorified waitress’ that Cecily had called her during Martin’s wedding reception.
That had been a day and a half and darling Cecily had certainly shown her true colours! Of course her nose had been mightily put out of joint when she saw the glamorous creations her in-laws were wearing. Lainey had hit Paris with a vengeance and bought designer outfits for her mother, Joan and herself. Cecily had not been privy to this little titbit. She had gone to Dublin and bought herself a John Hagerty creation in Penthouse and Pavement with a dropped waist and big shoulder-pads. She thought she was the bee’s knees until she arrived at the house on the day of the wedding and saw the style of the others.
‘Did you see what Lainey treated us to? Isn’t she the best in the world and isn’t her Yves St Laurent suit gorgeous? And what do you think of the outfit she bought me from Chanel?’ Mrs Conroy asked her daughter-in-law, delightedly.
‘Very nice!’ clipped Cecily.
‘Your dress is lovely too, dear,’ Mrs Conroy added hastily, noticing the frosty tone. Cecily ignored her, sat down in an armchair and stuck her head in the paper. Mrs Conroy raised her eyes to heaven as she caught Lainey’s glance. Lainey could feel herself getting annoyed. Typical of Cecily! She couldn’t stand for someone else to be better dressed than herself. Tony caught her eye, knowing exactly what was going through her head.
‘Count to ten,’ he advised as he saw the glower on Lainey’s perfectly made-up face.
‘If that one starts her carry-on today, I’m telling you she’s going to get it from me,’ Lainey muttered as Tony led her over to the window-seat in the sitting-room.
‘Oh goody! I love when you cause a scene, but there aren’t enough people here to enjoy it. Wait until we’re in the church or the hotel or something,’ Tony urged wickedly.
Lainey started to laugh. Tony was irrepressible and just the antidote to Madam Cecily’s rudeness. ‘You’re looking extremely elegant, I must say.’ Lainey smiled as she admired her friend in his grey suit and embroidered silk waistcoat.
Tony smirked. ‘I didn’t want to let the side down with all these designer labels and things. I’ll have you know this is a Louis Copeland suit and Jonathan bought me the waistcoat in New York.’
Lainey looked at him affectionately. They had been friends for so long. They worried about each other and cared about each other and told each other everything. Tony had settled down so much since Jonathan came into his life and he had done very well in his accounting career. He was still game for anything, still incorrigible, but much more content and happy in himself now
that he was in a loving stable relationship that had lasted over the years. He had never been able to tell his family about his homosexuality and his mother and everyone else in Moncas Bay could not understand why Lainey and himself who had been together for so long and who always attended social functions in the village as a couple, were still not married. No doubt the tongues would be wagging again today when they were seen together in church and at the reception. It didn’t bother them. In fact, Lainey enjoyed giving the gossips something to chew on. And it gave her a little added pleasure to know that Steve was as confused as everyone else.
She had seen Steve on many occasions since that night he had kissed her and told her he still wanted her. She knew his desire for her had not waned one bit. And that gave her no small sense of satisfaction. Let him go on wanting her, because he’d never have her again. And besides she didn’t want him any more and that was a great freedom. Dominic was all she needed. Dominic and her independence. Steve McGrath could go and whistle! She smiled to herself. He had been practically whistling last night at the pool party in Mangans’, scene of their first meeting so many years ago.
Tony’s father had thrown a party to celebrate clinching a business deal. No expense had been spared; a big marquee had been erected near the pool and the caterers called in. All the glitterati for miles around had been invited, including Cecily and Simon, much to Cecily’s delight, and of course Steve and Helena McGrath. The two social butterflies had tried to out-do each other in stories of how good their ‘little woman’ was. Lainey and Tony had been vastly entertained. Steve had not taken his eyes off Lainey all night, but apart from exchanging a few social pleasantries with him, she ignored him, much to his annoyance. When she went and changed into an emerald-green bikini, that showed off her stunning long-legged tanned figure to perfection, he couldn’t hide the desire in his eyes. Eat your heart out, Steve, she thought grimly as she executed a perfect dive into the pool to where Tony and Simon and Cecily were already swimming around with several others. Cecily made sure to stay out of Lainey’s way, not wishing to have her freckly paleness contrasted with her sister-in-law’s glowing tan. When Lainey got out of the pool and dried herself off and got dressed again, Steve was waiting for her.
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