by Sharon Owens
The two of them linked arms, and drifted aimlessly around the shops until eleven o’clock. Kate almost bought a pearl choker, but she couldn’t summon up enough enthusiasm to get her chequebook out.
‘Are you sure you wouldn’t like to go home and relax in a hot bubble bath, Kate, and I’ll make you something nice to eat? Shepherd’s pie? You know, you love my shepherd’s pie.’
‘Shirley, if I want to be nursed, I’ll go to hospital. Now, let’s hurry before all the booths are taken.’
‘Okay, but I want it on record that I think this is a big mistake.’
They walked in silence through the mid-morning shoppers, towards the dark and womb-like interior of the Crown Bar. They went in through the swing doors, their eyes taking a moment to grow accustomed to the lack of light. The bar staff were removing tea-towels from the beer pumps, slicing lemons and placing ashtrays on the tables. They nodded hello to their first customers of the day. Needless to say, there were still plenty of free booths available at that early hour, and Kate gave Shirley a twenty-pound note, as she sat down wearily on a leather-covered bench.
‘A couple of doubles, Shirley. That’s the girl.’
Shirley looked at her watch. It was three minutes past eleven. She couldn’t believe that Kate was about to go on a bender so early in the day. What the heck would the bar staff think of the pair of them? As it happened, Shirley didn’t have to go to the bar, as one of the barmen came to the booth to take their order. And Kate, who was deep in the throes of self-pity, still managed to wink at him. Although, to be fair, it wasn’t up to her usual standard. She delivered her order with a huge yawn. The trauma of the morning was beginning to make her feel very tired.
‘Just an orange juice, for me,’ said Shirley, mutinously.
Three hours later, Kate was beginning to get over her humiliation. A plate of half-eaten chicken-and-bacon toasted sandwiches sat beside a small mountain of empty glasses. The lunchtime crowd had come and gone, and there was a blanket of cigarette smoke floating near the ornately carved ceiling. A few men sat at the bar studying the racing pages in the newspapers. The place had warmed up nicely, and Kate was feeling much happier.
‘Shirley, you were right. I got the Boot, the Big E, the old Heave-Ho! It’s all Alex Stone’s fault. And he wasn’t even worth it.’
‘Don’t be too hard on yourself, Kate.’
‘You’d better watch yourself in there, I think they have the whole place bugged. Bingham was ferreting about in my desk, did I tell you that?’
‘Never mind. Sure, you hated it, anyway.’
‘True. But it was better than nothing.’
‘Why don’t you go into retail? Fashion, maybe? One of those fancy boutiques on Royal Avenue? It would be a real home from home for you.’
‘What kind of a reference do you think they’ll give me in the dole office? And the boutiques are a non-starter anyway. Those snobby managers want some dimwit teenager who won’t talk back to them, or else they have to hire some dried-up old prune who’s friends with the owner. It’s not what you know that counts in this society, Shirley. It’s who you know. It’s hopeless. Besides, I don’t want to be on my feet all day. I’m thirty-odd, for God’s sake. I’ll get varicose veins like Kevin’s mother.’
Shirley blew a massive sigh, and struggled to her feet. She was a little bit cross with Kate for drinking money she could ill afford. If Kate kept this up, she would pass out, and then Shirley would be stuck with the problem of how to get her home. She would tell the barman to put only a drip of spirits in Kate’s glass next time. But she didn’t get the chance. The door of the booth opened, and a barman came in and stacked their empty glasses into a small tower, which he leaned against his shoulder while he wiped the table.
‘Ah!’ Kate smiled, drunkenly. ‘Another round, my good man. And some loud music, if you please. My sister will be back presently, with some ready cash. There she goes! Hurry back, darling!’ Shirley slithered out of the narrow door and left the pub. She didn’t notice Declan Greenwood, who was standing at the bar. But he saw her.
‘And some cigarettes, too. I think I’ll take up smoking, again!’ Kate called after the barman. ‘A little smoke for a girl who’s just been fired, ha, ha, ha!’
When the drinks arrived on a tray, they were not carried by the barman with the white apron over his black trousers, but by Declan Greenwood himself. He set the tray down gently on the mahogany table.
‘I hope you’ll let me pay for this. I’m Declan, by the way. Declan Greenwood.’
‘Indeed you are,’ said Kate, taking the box, pulling out a cigarette and striking a match. ‘Cheers, and thank you very much. Will you have a drink, yourself?’
‘There’s a pint of Guinness settling.’ A Stranglers tape crackled into life overhead, and the lights dimmed.
‘That’s the proper stuff, now. A bit of atmosphere, at last. So tell me, Declan Greenwood, how do you know me?’
‘Oh, a friend of mine knows you. He told me your name. Actually I wanted to meet your sister. Shirley?’
‘Aye, Shirley! She’s a little pet! She’s looking after me today. I just left my job.’
‘I see. Celebrating, then?’
‘Drowning my sorrows, actually. I was shown the door, so to speak. By a woman, would you believe? I thought we women were supposed to stick together. Unless there’s a good-looking man involved, that is.’ She yawned again, and thought of her lovely French-style bed.
‘Well, never mind. You’ll get something else.’
‘Are you a working man yourself, Declan?’
‘Well, I’m a student, and I help to run a small restaurant, but my father owns the place, so I can’t boast.’
‘Not at all. That sounds a hard enough job, to me. Anything to do with the public is a total nightmare. Always begging with their hands out. Or complaining about the service. I don’t know which is worse.’
He shrugged. ‘Must be hard on them, though, not having a job?’
‘Well…’ Kate had no interest in the private miseries of the unemployed.
‘Has Shirley gone home?’ asked Declan. ‘I saw her leaving.’ The barman brought his pint, and he stood up to pay. Kate poured her mixer into the glass very carefully. The glass seemed to be moving around the table on its own.
‘Are you all right with that?’ asked Declan. ‘If you’ve had a few already, I can get you a mineral water?’
‘I’m grand. Thanks again,’ she said. But she decided not to drink it just yet.
‘S’okay. Is your sister away then?’
‘No. She went to the bank, that’s all. Why? Are you interested?’
‘Oh, just asking.’
‘She’s a lovely girl, is Shirley. Bit shy, but sound as a pound. You know, I shouldn’t tell you this, but it’s been a very weird kind of day so far, so I will. Shirley has a wee notion of you.’
‘Does she? Right enough?’ He smiled broadly.
‘Aye, but she’d never do anything about it. She’s a bit of a dreamer, you know. Fascinated by the Celts, she is. She talks to the moon, and the stars.’
‘Don’t we all, from time to time?’
‘Well. She’s very sensitive.’
‘Is she? Tell me something else about her.’
‘She’s only young, nearly twenty, she doesn’t know what she wants. Now, take me, I’m twenty-nine, and, blimey, I don’t know what I want, either.’ She began to laugh, then, and couldn’t stop. She was still laughing when Shirley came back. ‘Oh, Shirley, there you are. What kept you? Look who I bumped into? Your very own wee Declan! And he’s bought us a round of drinks. Give me that bag, I’m going to powder my nose. That’s a good girl.’ Kate hurried to the bathroom, sure that her stomach was about to reject some of its liquid lunch.
Shirley sat down beside the door of the booth. Was it really him? Or were seven pure oranges playing tricks on her mind? She looked down at her shoes. They were very scuffed. Declan appeared to be saying something. She tried to listen.
&nb
sp; ‘I saw you at the ballroom, a while back. With your sister.’
‘Did you?’
‘Yeah. You’re not a bad dancer.’
Shirley blushed. ‘You like music?’
‘Definitely. I’m really into it. All kinds, really. I buy records every day. Thousands of them, I have. Limited editions. Extended editions. I’d love to be a DJ, maybe, some day. Play in a band. Something like that.’
‘Would you?’
‘Oh, sure. Music is a bit of an obsession with me. I have some great ideas, too: live gigs, theme nights. Entertainment is the best business to be in, everybody wants to enjoy themselves.’
‘Do they?’
‘Oh, yes. Entertainment is a great social leveller. No matter what a person’s background, they all like to dance and socialize. That drink is for you, by the way.’
‘Thanks. Sorry about Kate,’ Shirley said quickly. ‘She’s had far too much vodka. She’ll be falling asleep on me in a minute.’ Shirley checked her watch again. ‘I’ll give her five minutes and then I’d better make sure she’s not unconscious in there. I hate it when people drink too much. I never know what to do with them.’
But Kate came back at that moment. And, apart from a very pale complexion, she seemed steady enough on her feet.
‘If you don’t mind, I think I’ll go home now, and lie down. Come on, Shirley.’
Declan stood up as Shirley reluctantly reached for her coat.
‘Well, I’ll just finish this and head on, myself,’ he said. ‘I just called in for a quick pint. Got to get back to work.’ Declan smiled at Shirley. There was a hint of a smile on her face as well. He wanted to stay and talk to her but his father was expecting him at the restaurant.
‘Well. Nice to meet you, Kate, Shirley. Maybe I’ll see you again, in Hogan’s sometime?’
‘You will, surely. Cheerio, now. Mind how you go.’ Kate was trying to light the wrong end of a cigarette. She had her coat on, inside out. The three of them went out into the street, and Declan said goodbye again, and turned towards the city centre.
‘Bye,’ whispered Shirley, watching him go. It was all she could do not to follow him.
Kate elbowed her sister, and peered expectantly into Shirley’s eyes. It was quite hard to focus after several doubles. They began to walk in the other direction.
‘Like, wow! What was that all about? Did you talk to him? Did you? Did you? I gave you as long as I could, on your own.’
‘Thanks, Kate. That was big of you, considering the circumstances. Well, he talked to me a fair bit. I didn’t say much.’
‘What did you say? You must have said something.’
‘Let me think. I think I said, Did you? Do you? Do they? Is it? He must think I’m a twit. Bloody questions, that’s all I managed to come up with.’
‘Oh, dear. You know what our trouble is, Shirley? We’ve been in that dole office too long. Our conversation has become very silted. I mean salted. I mean stilted.’
‘He actually tried to talk to me, and I blew it.’
‘No, you didn’t. He likes you. He’ll be back. Now, I think I’ll go straight home, and have a nice big sleep. Telling old Bingham off has fairly taken it out of me.’
13. Past Passions
Marion and Eddy lay in their beautiful four-poster bed, in the big house on Derryvolgie Avenue. The street outside was very quiet and peaceful. Marion had decorated the bedroom in various shades of cream, and there was a luxuriously soft carpet on the floor, and even a small sofa at the foot of the bed. There was a framed watercolour of a rural scene in Galway, bought on their honeymoon. It was hanging above the dressing table, in a simple pine frame. They both looked at the picture and thought of when they had bought it. They had shared a bed in the small hotel beside the sea, but had only kissed and held hands when they went to sleep each night. Eddy said they didn’t have to bother about the other stuff until after the baby was born, and Marion felt ready and relaxed with him. He wouldn’t rush her. And when they did finally make love for the first time, almost a year later, she was amazed at how passionate he was. And how tender. He was a much better lover than she would ever have guessed. It was a wonderful surprise. He was such a sensitive man; she wished every woman in the world could be as blessed in her marriage as she was. She smiled at him and he kissed her softly.
Eddy was feeling very happy, too. This restful master bedroom was his favourite place in the house, although every other room was lovely as well. It was a source of great pride to him that Marion was so artistic, as well as being a super mother to their four children. He was a very lucky man, he told himself. Thank God he had waited for the right woman, when he could easily have given up and married somebody else. Marion and Eddy had left the bedroom curtains open so that they could watch the clouds drifting across the moon. Eddy had his arms round his wife, stroking the smooth skin on her shoulders, and her blonde bubble curls, and thinking how beautiful she still was. This was a very emotional time of year for Eddy; the big countdown to Christmas would be starting soon. The happiest of times for a contented family man like himself. On the first day of December, they would all go out for a special turkey lunch in the restaurant, and afterwards select a fresh tree from the local greengrocer’s across the road. They would decorate it together, and take several photographs for the album. Declan and the girls loved this family tradition. Then, there was the shopping: himself and Marion would go browsing in the big stores for gifts for the children and each other. He sighed happily, and kissed his wife tenderly for the second time that night. She knew he wanted to make love but she could not concentrate on anything until she had told him about her meeting that day. She never kept any secrets from her husband. She took a very deep breath.
‘I was talking to someone today, Eddy. Someone from the past.’
‘Who was that, sweetheart?’ As if he didn’t know.
‘Johnny Hogan.’
Eddy’s heart missed a beat. ‘What were you talking to him about?’
‘Well, he called in to the shop, and took me out to lunch.’
‘Why, pet? If you don’t mind me asking.’
‘He just wanted to say goodbye.’
‘Is he ill?’ Hope rose up in Eddy, like a tidal wave. People could get cancer in their forties, couldn’t they? And Johnny was a chronic smoker. Eddy hated himself for even thinking something terrible like that, but he had never forgiven Johnny Hogan for stealing his lovely girlfriend away from him, in 1962.
‘No, he’s as fit as a fiddle. What a strange thing to ask. Actually, he’s going away. To America. For three months. Six, if he likes it enough. He’s going as soon as he can make the arrangements.’
‘Is that all? A mere holiday! For heaven’s sake, that’s not worth a goodbye visit.’
‘Johnny makes his own rules, Eddy.’
‘Indeed he does. Did he want you to go with him?’
‘No, you silly thing!’ But she hesitated for a moment before she said it, and Eddy knew he was right. Under the bedclothes, he clenched his fists.
‘I bet he did. He’s got no right to ask you anything, not even to go out to lunch.’ He lowered his voice to a whisper, in case any of the children heard him. ‘I always thought he would work out that he was Declan’s father. Did he mention anything about that? We were only married seven months when Declan was born.’
‘No, no. He didn’t. He’s not the type to count up the days and months. He has no concept of time passing. Doesn’t he still wear blue suede shoes? God knows where he gets them. He must have bought a stack of those shoes when they were the in-thing, and kept them in the attic all this time.’ She knew she was babbling on to avoid the subject. ‘He wouldn’t want to be a father, anyway. That’s not his style.’
‘You say that as if you were paying him a compliment.’
‘Eddy! You know only too well that Johnny would think bringing up a family was boring. He’s just not the kind of man to go crawling around the floor, playing trains with a toddler. He’s a night-owl.’
‘Am I boring, Marion?’
‘Not even a tiny little bit. How can you say such things?’
‘When I find out my gorgeous wife is having a secret lunch with her old flame. That’s how. What did he want? He must have wanted something. Please tell me the truth, Marion.’
‘I have told you the truth, Eddy. He’s going away, soon. And he wanted to say goodbye, personally. And to apologize for the way he neglected me, in the past. Laying old ghosts to rest. That’s all it was.’
‘Is that the truth?’
‘Yes, darling. And I wished him well, and I told him not to worry about me. That I was very happy, with you. That I married the right man, in the end.’
‘Did he say he still loved you?’
‘No. Why would he?’
Eddy didn’t believe her. Any man in his right mind would love Marion. Her baby-blue eyes, and bee-sting pout; her slender legs in dainty slingbacks. Her voice that was as gentle as a summer breeze.
‘I’d do anything for you, Marion. You know I would. We’ve had a great life together, even though it wasn’t full of drama and excitement.’
‘Honestly, Eddy, I’d had enough of drama and excitement when you proposed to me. Drama’s not all it’s cracked up to be. It’s very stressful.’
‘Really?’
‘Really. I wanted a quiet life, and security, and a man I could depend on. I’ve loved you for a long time, darling, and I always will. I promise.’
‘I’m sorry for quizzing you, Marion. This is very difficult for me. He was your boyfriend for five years. Don’t you think it’s weird that he never married?’
‘Not at all. He was too fond of the business to be a family man like you, darling.’
‘But I run a business. It didn’t stop me getting married. Or you.’
‘Well, the late hours he always worked, it would be pretty hard on a wife.’
‘There must be more to it. He never got over you?’
‘Listen, Eddy. It hurts me to admit this, but Johnny only wanted me because I was pretty. A fashion accessory to his alter-ego as the local hero. We spent most of our time together dancing in the ballroom. Or sitting in the back row of the cinema. He liked to be seen in public with me… But hardly ever when it was just the two of us. We didn’t go for long walks, like you and I do. We didn’t spend hours making love, or really talking, you know? He didn’t want to be lumbered with me on a full-time basis. He’s selfish, Eddy.’
