by Faith Hogan
‘What?’
‘I didn’t say a word.’
‘No, but you’re thinking it.’ Kevin hated it when Jim was silent and smug. ‘Why aren’t you surprised about me getting married?’
‘Oh, well, I am a little surprised at you getting married, just not at Valentina.’ He sat back on the stool. ‘I mean, we both know you were never in any great rush to the altar before this, right?’
‘I wasn’t against it, exactly. It just never happened, that’s all.’ Kevin hated that he felt he had to defend himself. It was true though, if Carrie had wanted to get hitched, he’d have had no problem with that, so long as she organised it.
‘So, if she’d asked, you’d have said yes.’ Jim shook his head. ‘God, you’re such an ass, Kevin. Honestly, have you no backbone at all, man?’
‘I’m doing it now, amn’t I?’ Kevin said, he certainly wasn’t going to tell Jim how it had all come about. He wouldn’t tell anyone that he didn’t even remember proposing. His only recollection was that he was saving five grand and then Valentina had made love to him in a way that still sent shivers through him when he thought about it.
‘So you are,’ Jim said smoothly. ‘Good luck with getting a best man, mate.’ He shook his head.
‘But I thought…’ Of course, Jim probably wouldn’t even be at his wedding. They both knew he’d always preferred Carrie to him. The two men met up twice a week, but if Carrie were here, they’d hardly speak two words. The truth was, all of his friends were Carrie’s friends first and last. He may keep up the pretence of having a wide circle, but when it would come to his wedding to Valentina, he knew he’d be lucky now if his mother showed up.
‘Don’t worry, can’t you always run off to Colombia and marry there?’ Jim was actually serious and, for one awful minute, it struck Kevin that this was really happening. Mostly, since that terrible scene in the restaurant, he managed to block it out. Valentina arriving back to the apartment each day with armfuls of wedding magazines was something he managed if not to ignore, certainly convince himself that it was something remote and unreal.
‘Maybe we’ll just do that,’ Kevin said grumpily. Of course, the reason for his dark mood was not Jim. True, Jim added to it, but the real reason was that Valentina had taken him to look at rings earlier that day. She had the energy of an Olympian when it came to shopping and she did not suffer amateurs charitably. It seemed to Kevin they visited every jeweller in Dublin and still she did not find The One. Kevin saw it as a reprieve. He would need the cash from his share of the house sooner than he realised if Valentina’s ring tastes were anything to go by. In the recession, you could buy a small house in the suburbs for the prices of some of them. He shook his head at the thought and returned to the conversation. ‘Ye’ll be sorry then, when I’m sitting back in the sun surrounded by…’ Kevin wasn’t sure what he’d be surrounded by. He knew nothing of Colombia.
‘Drug barons and missionaries?’ Jim snorted.
‘No, actually, I was going to say good food and the arms of a beautiful woman.’
‘Like I said, best of luck to you, mate.’
‘Thanks for that, mate,’ Kevin spat.
‘Seriously, Kevin, what do you expect? You’ve just met Valentina and you’re getting married? You’re rubbing Carrie’s nose in it every day of the week and, let’s be honest, you hardly know Valentina.’
‘I know her enough to know she’s the one.’ He sounded like a schoolboy hung up on the cool girl, which perhaps wasn’t that far from the truth.
‘Sure.’ Jim sighed. ‘Look, for what it’s worth, I’m wishing you well, but you know how I feel about Carrie. She may not be a supermodel compared to the nubile Valentina, but she’s gold, Kevin. I don’t care what you have with Valentina, she can’t hold a candle to Carrie and it’s as simple as that.’ He shook his head. ‘All those years ago, when you two started going out, there were loads of us who fancied Carrie like mad. Half the college couldn’t figure what she saw in you and even if we’re all a little older now, she’s still one of the best-looking women around. She just has something that you don’t get every day and if you think you can match that with Valentina, well, the best of luck to you. Just don’t be surprised if you end up looking over your shoulder someday.’
‘Right,’ Kevin said and he downed half his pint. He’d never seen Carrie like that or imagined anyone else did either. He looked across at Jim, wondered if he’d been in McDaid’s for long, perhaps he was suffering from blood pressure or stress? ‘Well, I must be off,’ Kevin said to no one in particular, because he had a feeling that he wouldn’t be missed much anyway.
*
He had things to do before going into the restaurant. First off, he had a pick up a prescription for his mother. He’d never done errands like this when Carrie was around.
‘It’s a sprained wrist for heaven’s sake,’ Kevin said when Maureen had called him over to open a particularly stubborn pot of jam.
‘Well, I’m not as young as I used to be,’ Maureen had sniffed and then recited her usual mantra. ‘Carrie wouldn’t have complained.’
It was three o’clock in the morning when she’d called Kevin again. This time, she couldn’t lock her back door.
‘I can’t sleep with it open,’ she’d whined. ‘Do you want some scoundrel to break in and do God alone knows what kind of unspeakable things to me? Rob me blind? Or perhaps leave me for dead?’
‘Technically, Mother, they won’t be breaking in, if you’ve left your door open.’
‘Are you coming or do I have to ring the police? If Carrie were here…’ she’d lamented.
So Kevin had called round for the third time that day and locked her back door. She also made him check every window, twice, and close the gate four houses down because she could ‘hear it creaking in the wind.’ Then, he made her hot chocolate and buttered up two slices of toast, which she ate in bed while he watched (in case she might choke in the night) and washed the dishes before he left. The whole trip had robbed almost two hours from his night’s sleep. ‘When you get to my age,’ her voice was thin, ‘you get used to not sleeping much. I suppose soon enough I’ll be going on the long sleep… and then you won’t have to be worrying about checking the locks on this place.’ She had been talking about her looming demise for twenty years, but apart from her sprained wrist, there wasn’t a lot wrong with her.
The following morning Kevin had contacted the locksmiths and was happy to pay them to check every lock and replace any that seemed to be past their best working order.
Every week it was something. Every day that had meant to be a drop-in, just in the mornings, was turning out to be so much more. When Carrie had called in, she seemed to sort out his mother within fifteen minutes. She kept the fridge stocked, the medicine cabinet replenished and magically Maureen got to appointments or mass without either Penny or Kevin being any the wiser. Still, he knew, he could not ask Valentina to take on visiting his mother.
‘Why not, she’s not going to college now, is she?’ Penny had asked one day between visits.
‘No, but she’s working here and…’ he didn’t mention that they were meant to be getting married to Penny. He still hadn’t found the right time, perhaps he couldn’t face another conversation like he had with Jim. ‘Anyway, they just wouldn’t get along. They’re too…’ Was he about to say – alike? No. Valentina was absolutely nothing like his mother. He was sure of that. He was completely one hundred percent sure. Wasn’t he?
*
The night seemed to go on forever, and yet, when the grey skies of the morning penetrated through the faded curtains, Jane tried to convince herself that maybe the next night would be better. She decided on a boiled egg for breakfast and smiled to herself grudgingly. It was how she’d managed to stay on here since Manus died. Convincing herself each morning that things would get better. She should ring Carrie. In the early hours of the morning, when she spotted that man watching. The Marchant Inn from across the road, she’d made a firm decision then. Or at least, it
had seemed firm at the time. She would ring Carrie and ask if she’d take her out to see some of those retirement homes in the brochures from the hospital. She topped her egg neatly; it was, she always believed, an art form, to get an egg just right. This morning she had managed it and that seemed like a good enough reason to put off lifting the phone and asking for help.
Carrie arrived just as she was about to clear away her breakfast dishes, Teddy at her heels. He bounded towards Jane and stopped short gently at her chair, resting his head affectionately on her knees.
‘You’re a one,’ she said tenderly, patting his head and admiring his new collar. ‘And you’re looking particularly smart today.’
‘New collar and a bath,’ Carrie smiled adoringly at Teddy, ‘I just thought, better to have my phone number on him, just in case.’ The dog was becoming Carrie’s more each day, they belonged together; a blind man could see that.
‘Well, he’s yours now,’ Jane sighed.
‘No, I’m afraid there’s a bit more red tape yet,’ Carrie bent down and rubbed his back fondly, he repaid her with a look of complete adoration, then she tucked the front door key carefully in her pocket.
Jane sighed, an easy contentment descending on her. She had a feeling it was in part the effect Teddy had on all of them, but it was lovely to think someone else had a key to her front door too. Almost reassuring, as if it was some small measure of how their relationship had grown.
‘Well, be honest, how did you sleep?’ Carrie asked and she plonked herself before the still warm teapot, resting her cold fingers on its fat body.
‘Honestly?’ Jane smiled, no one liked a complainer, then she looked across at Carrie, really looked at her, and suddenly she saw something that she had missed these last few weeks. ‘What is it? What’s happened?’
‘Happened?’ Carrie shook her head and smiled, but this time she wasn’t fooling Jane.
‘Yes, Carrie, I know something is up, I can see it in your face.’ It was true, the rounded cheeks, the constantly smiling eyes and mouth had been drained of their essence, as if someone had come along and rattled the spirit from her. Instead, there was a new quality to her, something Jane couldn’t put her finger on, but it was a kind of strength, an independence. How had she not noticed this change in her over the last few weeks? ‘You’ve even lost weight,’ she said, placing her hands gently over her friend’s and she listened while the whole sorry story of Kevin and Valentina poured out of Carrie. Carrie told her everything; from that awful night when they told her they were a couple, right up to the announcement of their wedding. ‘I can’t believe you’ve kept this bottled up all this time.’ Jane shook her head sadly.
‘Well, I haven’t really. I mean, it hasn’t been a secret exactly, our friends know and I’ve told my mother, obviously, but there just didn’t seem to be a good a time to say anything. God knows, you’ve had enough on your plate, and besides, it’s not as if you really ever knew Kevin.’
‘I suppose, that’s true,’ Jane agreed and she managed not to say that even so, she’d never much liked the look of him anyway. ‘Is it too early to talk about all those fish in the sea or missed busses or…’
‘It’s too late, more like.’ Carrie laughed, ‘I think I’m a bit long in the tooth to be going out with my fishing net at this stage, and as for the buses, I’ll stick to my car, thanks all the same.’
‘Well, I will say that you deserve to be treated much better than he’s managed, and if it’s okay with you, I’d also say that in my day, we believed it was better to be alone than in bad company.’ She shook her head.
‘Well, it looks like I’ve cleared out all the bad company now.’ Carrie laughed. ‘Come on, let’s get this pub opened for business,’ she said gently and they made their way downstairs to see Luke sitting in front of a blazing fire that he had just set for the day.
‘You two look very pleased with yourselves,’ he said when they stood beside him and Jane thought she noticed a flicker of admiration in his eyes for Carrie. Now that, she thought, would be a perfect match.
Twelve
Carrie felt like a bitch for the way she spoke to Kevin. Ordering coffee as if he was her skivvy wasn’t something that she’d ever done before. Not so much to Valentina, but she had a sense that if Valentina had half a chance, she would bully her, here in her own restaurant. It had happened in a flash. Carrie saw something in the way Valentina was speaking to Kevin. It was the body language. She was threatening him. Everything about her seemed in a split second to have become unfamiliar, suddenly, it was easy to see where the balance of power lay. Carrie would have ordered her coffee from Valentina, but she wouldn’t trust her not to spit in it when she was out of sight.
‘I’m not your waiter,’ Kevin said as he dropped the coffee on the desk before her. She noticed though he’d managed to put it on a saucer and add one of her favourite biscuits on the side.
‘I never said you were, but I wanted to talk to you in private.’ That was true. ‘I’ve got something for you.’ She reached into the drawer she normally kept locked and pulled out a large envelope. ‘It’s your share of the mortgage to date. It’s all signed and sealed and you can deposit it in your bank account today if you’d like.’ She reached in to the envelope and handed him the cheque. ‘It might be handy when it comes to paying for the wedding; I hear castles don’t come cheap.’ She smiled at him; this was easier than she thought.
‘We won’t be getting married in a castle, Carrie.’ His voice was short, she assumed he was still angry with her for ordering him about.
‘I have a feeling you might be. Valentina has her heart set on something like one of her boy band friends had.’ It was true. Valentina had been gushing about it with one of the part-time waitresses – as much to rub Carrie’s nose in it as to share any information with the other girl. Carrie had given up on the idea of Valentina finding work elsewhere; it was obvious that the only place Valentina wanted was The Sea Pear. Sometimes, she wondered, if Valentina got what she wanted – would it be enough? She suspected not. As the days passed, it was becoming more glaringly obvious to Carrie that Kevin had fallen for a woman who would never be happy with what she had, a bit like Maureen Mulvey, actually.
‘Thanks for this, Carrie.’ He glanced at the cheque.
‘It’s all fair and square, the bank have set out the details here.’ She tapped the larger envelope she still held. ‘I’ve opened new accounts and taken my name off the old ones. We’d have had to do it anyway, at some point. You can just keep all the account numbers and your pass codes if you want. The joint credit card is cancelled and I paid it off, your half from the mortgage proceeds.’
‘That’s very decent of you.’ He looked relieved. They both knew he’d never have got around to sorting out the financial entanglement of their joint accounts. The last thing Carrie wanted now was to see statements with details of what Kevin was spending on Valentina. Cutting all the ties she could was for the best, for her and for him.
‘And of course, there’s this place.’ Part of Carrie wanted to run away from The Sea Pear and never set eyes on it again, but she knew that was crazy. They had worked hard to build the place up, it was as much her success as it was his. She remembered only too well how much they had to work in the beginning – the last few weeks had drained her of the kind of energy she’d need for that. She needed time and part of her wondered if she’d want to set up another restaurant. Start-ups took money too, lots of money, and her savings had taken a big hit with buying Kevin out. No, Anna was right; she had all the time in the world to decide on what she wanted to do next. ‘But it’s early days, right?’
‘Right, I suppose so.’ Kevin stuffed the cheque inside his chef’s uniform.
‘So,’ she said, slipping the envelope across the desk. ‘It’s a nice clean break.’
‘Carrie,’ his voice sounded thick and emotive, ‘thanks for all this. Thanks for sorting everything out, you know me, I’d never have got around to it.’
‘I know, Kevin
. You’re welcome, but I did it for me as much as for you. Maybe we both need to move on now.’ Her smile was genuine when she met his eyes and she wondered if the sentiment that clouded his was embarrassment or guilt, or perhaps something else that she couldn’t quite place.
‘I wonder… that is, would you mind, if I…’ he held the envelope out from him for a second. ‘That is, our apartment, it’s very…’ He was searching for words that wouldn’t come.
‘Yes?’ She had a feeling he didn’t want Valentina to know about the cheque, did he want to hide his bank details as well?
‘Well, it’s just, there’s nowhere really to put things in the apartment, people in and out of it all the time, would you mind keeping these here, in a drawer, for now?’
‘Sure, but you know I lock it when I’m not here?’
‘Really?’
‘Yes, really.’ Carrie had a feeling someone had been snooping about. She was sure it wasn’t Kevin. He didn’t think she was mysterious enough to have secrets from him, but she suspected it might be Valentina. ‘My laptop and stuff… I just thought it’s better…’ This was her opportunity to mention the tips jar and the missing money. She should say it now, but there was a defeated look about Kevin and she knew she couldn’t put another pressure on him now. This one, like so many other things in their relationship, she would have to burden alone, for now, or at least until she got to the bottom of it.
‘Sure, of course, I’ll just put these in the car, so,’ he said, backing away from her and knocking into the filing cabinet as he went.
It was liberating, tying up the loose ends of her relationship with Kevin. Funny, but she went through extremes, sometimes, it hit her like a water cannon, startling her, blowing her out, emptying her with the force of it. This morning, she’d cried. She’d sobbed like a baby for almost an hour, and now, seeing him, sorting out the mundane stuff of their lives together, she knew she wasn’t crying for the love lost. If she was truthful, the love between them had died many years before. They suffocated it, beneath the earthiness of her mothering and his neediness. It had drowned in the gushing waters of her solicitude and his detachment. Had there been romance once? It was very short-lived, if it had ever truly existed between them. At twenty-two years of age, Kevin had been her first real boyfriend. The first boy interested in more than just the fact that she had the biggest boobs in school. Penny told her later, years later, she was his first girlfriend. It was naïve. To settle for someone because they appeared to be happy settling for you couldn’t lead to any kind of real contentment, could it?
