by Faith Hogan
‘Thanks for that, mate.’ Kevin shook his head. He needed to know what they thought of him. No, he needed to know that they weren’t going to see him as he’d seen his father all those years ago. He needed to know that he could still be Kevin. Sound, successful, hard-working Kevin. He couldn’t bear it if they thought… What? He didn’t want to think about it anymore. He returned to his pint. His eyes drawn involuntarily to the rugby. He hated rugby. The silence between them, which in the past Kevin never noticed, seemed to stretch awkwardly, intensely now. Jim must have felt it too; he turned towards Kevin.
‘Don’t be too hard on yourself, mate. These things happen. So? Sandra and Anna will bitch about you being an ungrateful, disloyal sod with no backbone for a while. They’ll get over it. Carrie will move on. She’ll meet someone else.’
‘I can’t really see Carrie meeting anyone, can you?’ Carrie was far too… boring. She was like Kevin really. Only she was curvier. To Kevin’s mind, Carrie was unlikely to become desirable anytime soon, because she was too fond of Kevin’s cream sauces.
‘You never know, mate. Look at you.’ Jim nodded towards his pint, as though confirming it all in his mind. ‘These things blow over. In time, you’ll get the restaurant sorted and the house and you’ll both move on. You and Valentina will become as boring as me and Sandra or you and Carrie. And then, who knows?’
‘Who knows what?’
‘Well, they may want to spend time in the same room as you again.’ Jim chuckled as he drew deep into his fresh pint. ‘Anyway, what do you care? You have Valentina, you’re madly in lust with her and you still have Carrie taking care of business. The best of both worlds, I’d say.’
Naturally, Kevin did care. He cared very much that they should think badly of him. He could blame it on his middle-class upbringing. He could hold his mother responsible for her pious affliction sprinkled liberally about their home. It was nothing short of a miracle that his father managed to survive it for as long as he did. For Kevin it meant that he had to be the best he could be, in every way. Some might call him weak. Kevin liked to think of himself not so much as an outward people-pleaser but more as a lover of stability. Why rock the boat? Why not present the parts of yourself that others would like best? When there were battles, Carrie took those on. She fought with the landlord when they had one, to make sure they got the best deal on the rent. She took on the council when they wanted to increase their rates. Carrie sorted out disgruntled staff, unhappy customers and, back in the day, when things were tight, suppliers who had to wait another week for payment. Kevin reasoned, these tasks were not in his skill set.
Now, with Sandra and Anna and all of their other friends, Kevin wanted to set them straight. He wanted to let them know that… He wasn’t sure what he could do to let them know that he was still good old Kevin. Suddenly the landscape had changed, the ground beneath him felt uneven and rocky and he wasn’t sure there was anything he could do that didn’t make him look like he was a disloyal git. At least, he didn’t have to face Carrie this evening. That was something; the breathing space would be good for all of them.
*
Luke wasn’t sure if he’d talked Carrie into it, or if she’d invited him along, but there was something right about going to the hospital with her to visit Jane Marchant. Strangely, it seemed to Luke that the hospital was a better destination than the nursing home. At least people were moving about in the corridors with purpose. They may not get well, but at least they would go home. That was unfair, he knew that plenty of people in Ballyglen were very happy to be living there – the thing that hung about Luke was the feeling in his gut that it just wasn’t the right place for his father to be.
‘I remember seeing you,’ Jane Marchant smiled once Carrie had made the introductions. ‘That night, you were on the street, opposite, I thought for a moment…’ Large tears rested in the corner of her eyes. ‘But it was dark and I was probably in shock, but you looked for all the world like my Manus, standing there. He was tall and dark too, broad-shouldered, very good-looking. God he took on all the worries, he made me feel so safe. Oh, he was such a fine man when I met him.’ She smiled now, the memory taking her to a happier place, so when she dried her tears, Luke could see that, once, she must have been very pretty.
‘I wasn’t sure if I should go and offer to help, they seemed to have taken good care of you, but when Carrie said she was coming to visit you…’ He had brought along a small bunch of flowers, bright and gay, full of cheer, a measure of optimism for her neat locker. Their startling colours held tenaciously against the insipidness of the surroundings.
‘Ah, yes, the ambulance men were lovely, they tried calling,’ she nodded across at Carrie, ‘but of course, I knew they wouldn’t get her, sure, anyone would be would worn out with the long days you put in over there.’
‘Well, not this week.’
‘No?’
‘No, I’m making changes and this week I’m on holiday with a whole seven days to spend sorting out some things that have probably needed sorting for a long time.’
‘That’s good, you deserve a break, you really do work awfully hard,’ Jane said.
‘Do you want me to go into the pub, water plants, check that everything is unplugged and all of those sorts of things?’
‘Would you? I don’t suppose there’s a whole lot of post, but certainly, it’d be good to know that everything is safe and sound for when I have to go back.’
‘You sound as if it’s the last thing you want?’ Luke chuckled.
‘Oh, well…’ Jane shook her head sadly. ‘It’s actually been quite nice here, you know, a bit of company…’ She looked at the bed opposite and a plump woman propped up on pillows. She was surrounded by a gaggle of visiting grandchildren; all tucking heartily into sweets and grapes.
‘Still, it’ll be nice to get back to your own corner, a bit a peace and quiet and all that,’ the woman opposite her shouted from amidst the din of her visiting relatives.
‘Yes, and I’ll visit you every day, and you’ll have your regulars, I’m sure they’re really missing popping in for a pint or a cup of tea,’ Carrie said softly.
‘Oh, I’m afraid since Manus died, I don’t have what you’d call a roaring trade anymore, just a few of the locals who drop in for a catch-up as much as anything else. I’m sure some of them will probably be relieved to see the doors closed.’ She laughed at this, and Luke figured he couldn’t imagine someone so frail taking care of herself, never mind looking after a pub on her own.
‘It seems like a lot, to get back to straight away,’ he murmured.
‘Well, they’re saying I’ll be here for a few more days anyway. I think they’re erring on the side of caution in case I slip on an icy path and the fact that I’m living on my own. Perhaps they’re afraid that I’ll go hitting the brandy bottle and fall over again.’ She smiled and Luke realised she must have been good fun when she was fit and healthy.
‘Well, I can get the heating on and get the fridge filled before you come back,’ Carrie said. She dug into her bag and pulled out a bundle of magazines and a large bottle of mineral water; which she left on the locker. ‘It’ll be lovely to have you back, and you’ll see, it’ll be great to be home.’ Carrie smiled at her and even Luke knew she was doing her best to make everything right.
Five
Six large black bags. Six plastic refuse bags and counting. They were lined up in the hallway. She’d placed almost all his clothes, folded carefully, in the bags while Teddy watched intently, perhaps knowing that in some way this ritual was marking out something momentous in Carrie’s life. She hadn’t included his socks. Kevin loved his socks, always suffered from cold feet; his long bony toes went a peculiar shade of blue-purple-orange when he was cold. So, Carrie bought his socks specially, from a woman who lived deep in Connemara – the other side of the country. She shook her head now thinking of her own stupidity. She paid handsomely to have them knitted and then lined in cotton. He wore them winter, spring and autumn. Replaci
ng them would entail a special trip across the country, very cold feet and a gnarly temperament until he got there. Carrie made quite the ceremony out of laundering them and then taking them along to the nearby Simon office to donate to the homeless people. It was an act of generosity, she reasoned. It gave her far more satisfaction than she had any right to. She made up for it by taking extra care of what she did pack for him. She carefully folded each shirt. Would he notice? Probably not. Each bag filled with shoes at the bottom, jackets next and so on until the lighter items sat on top.
Six bags and she had not even looked at their CD collection or the other bits and pieces they had accumulated over the years. He could have the CDs. She wouldn’t be listening to them anymore. The same went for photographs, albums and anything that would bring memories flooding back. She would have to ask him, but she had a feeling he would not want them either.
She called a cab when she managed to pack up the last of the black bags. She paid the driver extra to deliver the lot to the restaurant. They would arrive before opening time and she gave him directions to leave them with either Kevin or Andrew.
Andrew. She should ring him, at least let him know that she was fine. Andrew was more than an employee. He’d been with them since they started. Carrie made sure they kept him by paying him well and looking after him when he needed it. He had become a friend, well, Carrie’s friend anyway. Kevin was much too homophobic to make any real connection with Andrew. When she rang him, she told him about Teddy.
‘Carrie, perhaps you should just leave him at the dog shelter, before you get too attached,’ he said gently.
‘I won’t get attached, but he’s nice company for now,’ Carrie said and she loved that Andrew understood that you could become so fond of an animal so quickly. ‘Will you keep an ear out, see if anyone is missing him about the area?’
‘Of course I will, but you know, he might have just been dumped here. He could be from the other side of the city for all anyone knows.’
‘Luke says that he has a feeling that he’s been well looked after, perhaps he belongs to someone elderly.’
‘Luke?’
‘Luke Gibson… he’s half the reason I’ve got Teddy here, he’s keeping an eye out to see if anyone is missing him.’
‘I see,’ Andrew said thoughtfully. ‘Will you be all right?’ Andrew kept his voice light, but Carrie heard the concern in his words.
‘I’ll be fine. I need to take a little time. You just make sure I have a restaurant to come back to, okay?’
‘Sure thing, boss.’ He said the words in a Boston accent, thick and nasally and they both laughed at it. ‘You know, it’s his loss. Valentina, well, she’s not all she cracks herself up to be?’
‘So her boobs aren’t real, is that what you’re telling me?’ Carrie joked.
‘No, they probably are, but boobs and butts, well they tend to lose their pertness. A kind heart never does.’
‘No, but Mother Teresa had a kind heart, and I don’t think she had a legion of suitors knocking down her door.’
‘You know what I mean,’ Andrew’s voice was low, as if someone was close by. ‘Mind yourself, okay?’
‘Sure thing, boss.’ And they both laughed at her disastrous attempt at a Boston accent.
*
The clear-out took a solid two days, but it was worth it. Carrie cried when she came across mementos that brought happier memories flooding back. She would be lying if she didn’t admit that she was still angry, still wanted to kick against the unfairness of it all. But she was practical enough to know when she was beaten. She couldn’t compete with Valentina and when she thought about them together, she wasn’t sure she wanted to. Sometimes, when she was really still, she remembered that things with Kevin had already fizzled away long before she suggested he sleep in the spare room. Honestly, maybe she could have tried to ignite more of a spark, but she had come to the stage where mothering had taken over and attraction had long since rushed out the door. When Carrie sat down at her kitchen table at the end of it, she felt somehow the whole house had been exorcised of Kevin and it was, unexpectedly, a good feeling.
The bank had been very happy to help her buy him out of the mortgage. It wasn’t a huge amount, but it was enough for him to start somewhere else with the wind on his back. And that was what she would tell him. This house, regardless of anything else, this house was non-negotiable. The loan would be sorted within a few days. Once she had the relevant documents from the bank and their solicitor drawn up she’d get Kevin to sign away any right he had to it. She was being reasonable and fair about it. It was hardly her fault that the property market had changed so drastically in the last five years. Anyway, she couldn’t see Valentina living somewhere like this.
She looked about her little kitchen. ‘Perhaps we should repaint?’ she whispered to Teddy who was lying at her feet.
*
The following morning she woke, her head pounding with an overwhelming dose of cabin fever. Teddy looked as if he might be feeling it too and he dropped his lead before her while she lazily picked the letters from inside the front door. ‘You really are very good for me,’ she nuzzled his warm neck. There was no danger that she could cut herself off with Teddy around. Melissa rang her before she had a chance boil the kettle.
‘Hi stranger, have you forgotten I’m flying in today?’ Melissa was already at the airport, but that realisation was only dawning on Carrie. After all, she’d marked it on the calendar weeks ago. Funny, this was the first time in years she hadn’t moved the page forward. Now a golden retriever sitting in tawny autumn leaves glared at her from the spent page on the cork notice board.
‘Oh my God, is it today? I can’t believe it, oh, Melissa, I’m so sorry.’ Carrie said the sentence as though it was one word. She never forgot things like this.
‘Don’t worry, it’s a first.’ Melissa laughed lightly into the phone. Life was good, she was marrying Ben in a couple of weeks and then they would go on living their organised lives in Glasgow. ‘Listen, why don’t I take a taxi to yours, drop my bag off and then we’ll hit the shops. You sound like you had a late night.’
‘I did.’ It was all Carrie could manage. How could she have forgotten about Melissa? How could she have forgotten about their wedding? And, God, what was she going to say to her in less than an hour? This was meant to be one of the happiest times in her friend’s life. Getting dresses organised for the day of her dreams. They’d booked a castle, down the country. The whole place would be filled with their friends for a three-day celebration in the Christmas holidays and… Oh, God. She and Kevin were going to be best man and maid of honour. She’d have to tell Melissa everything – well, a version of everything at any rate. She’d have to tell her this morning – wouldn’t she? She’d have to bow out, after all, Kevin was friends with Ben long before Carrie and Melissa had ever met, in the post-break-up divvying out of alliances, surely this one belonged rightly, if regrettably, with Kevin.
Carrie ran upstairs. She pulled off her pyjamas and stood under the shower, blasting hot water down on her for as long as she could take it, until she felt too weak to stand for much longer. Then she ran a towel roughly across her body, a half a thought running through her. Why should she be the one to break this news to Melissa? After all, Kevin and Ben were friends since primary school. Had Kevin actually told anyone?
She sprayed deodorant liberally about her whole body, perhaps, hoping to keep the fumes of melancholy tight within her pores. She didn’t want Melissa to think she’d completely lost it. She still had her pride, she would not let herself down over Kevin Mulvey and certainly not over Valentina. She sat on the bed, thinking about the wedding. Could they just do it? Could they go through a whole weekend and pretend everything was perfect for Melissa and Ben?
No. No. No.
That would be so wrong, and anyway, they’d see clear through Kevin, wouldn’t they? A niggling feeling crashed through her, falling somewhere at the bottom of her empty stomach. Would Valentina stan
d by and let Kevin and Carrie off to a fancy castle for three whole days for the sake of two people she’d never met?
No.
There had to be another way.
Carrie pulled out a pair of jeans and a top. She eyed the knee boots at the bottom of her wardrobe. An unfortunate choice for her short legs and thick calves, they too should be taken to the Simon community. Instead, she pulled out a pair of black Chelsea boots and headed to the toaster.
It was as she was spreading marmalade across her third slice of bread that she knew. Melissa’s wedding could be perfect; it was in Carrie’s power to make sure it was perfect. The problem was not Kevin, it was in fact her. Kevin could still be best man and bring along Valentina as his date. He would not be staying in the room she’d booked months ago. He could book a B&B down the road.
And today, they were going shopping, for a dress that didn’t exist. Carrie’s figure would dictate that outcome. She knew when Melissa asked, it would have to be a dressmaker job for her and, even then, ample bosoms, jelly bellies and wide thighs did not go well with satin fabric. Yes. That was it. By the time Melissa arrived, her plan was shaped fully. It was only a little bit devious. She would pull out, do the honourable thing, when they couldn’t find a dress to suit.
*
‘So,’ Jim was saying towards the TV screen, it was football today, some European match; it seemed to Kevin endless how many sports his friend followed. ‘That’s a turn-up for the books.’
‘What’s that?’ It had been a long week. A week in which his life had tumbled over once more unexpectedly when a dozen bags arrived at the restaurant. It was silly really, of course it was inevitable, the mechanics of splitting up and moving on, but still… his clothes. All neatly folded, delivered by a taxi driver who seemed to know far too much for Kevin’s comfort. There had been no socks, Kevin figured the driver had taken them. He was too annoyed to even bother chasing them up. Instead, he ordered more. They would take two weeks to arrive. Bugger. ‘What’s a turn-up for the books?’ Suddenly he didn’t like the way Jim was watching him.
