by Sharon Owens
‘Sure, but, like I said, I've never lost a deal before. I have my reputation to think of. And besides, I like the idea. It reminds me of the glass pyramid at the Louvre in Paris: old and new co-existing in perfect harmony.’
‘I've always wanted to see Paris.’ Lily sighed. ‘We've never travelled. We don't even have passports.’
‘There you are, then!’ Vincent said triumphantly. ‘You just sell the tavern to me now, apply for a couple of passports and off you go. Paris is very beautiful in the winter, so I'm told.’ Vincent had a second home in sunny Marbella. He didn't ever intend to find himself up the Eiffel tower in a snowstorm.
‘Oh, we couldn't possibly decide today,’ said Lily.
‘We'll have to think about it for a while,’ said Jack.
‘But I'm offering you a million pounds!’ Vincent slapped the table with his big strong hands.
‘Even so,’ Lily said.
‘We would have to do some research,’ added Jack.
‘Into what?’ Vincent wanted to know.
‘Where we would live when we come home from Paris, for one thing,’ said Lily. And Vincent knew that a great corner had been turned. He winked at Judy.
‘Come on,’ he said to his secretary. ‘We'll be on our way now, and let these good people decide how they'd like to spend a million quid. It's been a pleasure talking to you, Mr and Mrs Beaumont.’
‘Likewise,’ Jack said. The two men shook hands, and the two women smiled at each other.
When Vincent and Judy had left, and Lily and Jack were whispering behind the bar, Barney lit his pipe and said, ‘You know what, boys? There's big changes a-coming to these parts. And I've been doing a little bit of thinking myself. Now, listen, what do you think of this idea?’
Joey and Francy Mac pinned back their ears. Barney had been very quiet all afternoon, and they knew he meant business.
22. Slinger Magee Rides Again
The rest of the parties went ahead without a hitch. Daisy, Trudy and Marie were told about the mural and the new offer price from Vincent Halloran, but were sworn to secrecy on both counts. All four girls were quiet as they lay in bed each night, wondering what the future might bring.
Gerry asked Trudy to move in with him, but she surprised him by saying she was not ready to get serious with anyone yet. Of course, after that, he was determined to marry her. But Trudy told him that they both had a long way to go to overcome their various disorders, and they shouldn't complicate their fledgling romance in any way. Gerry told Trudy that she was selling herself short studying geography, and that she would make a terrific psychiatrist. Trudy only smiled and said that geography was a lot more straightforward.
Michael Devaney suggested that he and Marie go into business together some day. Maybe they should find jobs in the same café, restaurant or hotel first to gain some work experience, he added. Michael couldn't cook but he could sing, and serve drinks. He thought Lily and Jack were great role models. And Marie amazed herself by saying she thought that was a lovely idea. They spent all their spare time looking through employment supplements in the newspapers.
David Devaney, on the other hand, just wanted to get Daisy's various patchwork dresses off her shoulders and see her red hair even more dishevelled on a guesthouse pillow. He was always happiest with a woman when they were both horizontal and tipsy. Daisy knew that he had deliberately dropped his wallet behind the turf basket that night so he had an excuse to come back and kiss her. And she was a little bit cross that he had taken advantage of her affectionate nature when she was in a state of shock. But she forgave him because his romantic attentions were good for her ego. They'd had some enjoyable dates together, over the last few days, but always things ended with him twanging her bra strap suggestively through her dress, and she was getting fed up with it. Knowing her luck, the first time she slept with him the condom would burst and she would get pregnant. With twins, probably, for good measure. She remembered how her own parents were struggling to raise second families, and how they hadn't enough time or money to do anything nice. David was gorgeous, she thought, and she was delighted he was still determined to seduce her after dozens of rejections. But Daisy knew that the decent thing to do was finish with her new boyfriend. She had a lot of soul-searching to do, and David had to conquer the world of show business. And she knew they'd never make it through the next twenty years together, as smoothly as Lily and Jack.
Reluctantly, on a bitingly cold day in January, she told him they could not see each other any more. They were sitting in the tavern one morning, quietly sipping cups of tea, when Daisy put her hand on his leather-clad knee and broke the bad news. He took it quite well. She said she'd always be fond of him, and she'd still like to change his wardrobe-direction, but they could never be lovers. Then she went upstairs to get ready for work. David studied his face in one of the gold mirrors for twenty minutes after she had left the room. He looked even more handsome when he was heartbroken, he decided. That worry line above his right eye, that downcast gaze and the suggestion of a pout were very sexy. He looked a little bit like Elvis in the early days. He must remember this expression, he thought, and use it when he was singing a love song on the talent show.
Bridget was also having problems in the romance department. From time to time she fished John Kelly's phone number out of her pocket and told herself to call him right away, but of course she couldn't do it. She was still haunted by the events surrounding her parents’ death, and afraid that John was just feeling sorry for her when he brought her those fabulous flowers and asked her out. And she didn't like his job, either. She would worry about him far too much when he was on night duty down the Falls Road or the Shankhill. Bridget had no faith in the endurance of the human spirit. The first sign of trouble, she feared, and most people buckled under the strain. She had enough to do, looking after herself. Never mind worry about John Kelly on the mean streets of Belfast after dark. And so John's phone number stayed in Bridget's pocket, becoming slightly more tattered and torn each day.
In her spare time, she wrote little cards and notes to her sisters in London, and signed them with lots of tiny kisses and love hearts.
*
Liam Bradley was settling in well to his comfortable suite in the hotel. The new mattress was much better than the old one, and a few expensive dinners had put the lining back on his stomach. The cheque for half a million pounds had cleared into his account, and he hadn't heard from Betsy or her interfering brothers since before Christmas. Perry Shaw was handling all the PR for Boom, Boom, and Liam hadn't been contacted for a single interview. His life had been looking quite sweet until he turned on the television one lunchtime, expecting to see a sentimental film of some kind, but instead getting the shock of his life. There was a picture of Lily and Jack Beaumont and the four nutty barmaids, taken at one of the Christmas parties. And there was some footage of Vincent Halloran too, coming out of his Dublin office and waving at the cameras. Nobody could say if the great shopping mall project was going ahead yet: the Beaumonts had still not decided whether to sell. But the news station had discovered that Vincent Halloran was secretly hiring lots of extra workmen, and booking up accommodation for them around Belfast. Every day, the newscaster said, the tavern on Maple Street was bombarded by local journalists and businessmen, all wanting to know what was happening. But the owners remained tight-lipped about their decision as the last few days to the deadline ticked away.
Liam felt restless and jittery as he paced backwards and forwards across the moss-green carpet in room 401. If the tavern were sold, where would the lovely Lily go? He might never see her again. Time was running out. He had emptied the minibar, so he tidied himself up and went down to the bar to think matters over. Several times after that, during the following days, he wandered across town to Maple Street, but he couldn't go in. He didn't just fancy Lily now, he realized with a heavy heart. He loved her. He had actually fallen in love with a woman for the first time in his life.
On the second-last day o
f February, Liam woke up in a grim mood of determination, and got dressed in his best suit and designer sunglasses. He drank until the hotel barman refused to serve him any more, and then fell into a taxi he'd kept waiting outside. The car dropped him off at the end of the cobblestones on Maple Street, and he went staggering down the alley to whatever fate had in store for him. He didn't know what he would say or do, as he pushed open the front door and went in. He was going to wing it, like Slinger Magee always did.
Unfortunately, Jack was the one standing behind the counter. Lily was upstairs, fretting in the kitchen. They were almost ready to call Vincent and tell him what they were going to do and, either way, it was going to be a very emotional time.
‘Where is the lovely Lily today?’ Liam wanted to know, as he ordered a double vodka and coke. His eyes were swimming in his head and his legs were shaking underneath him.
‘I think you should have a coffee, mate,’ said Jack, quietly, not wanting to embarrass the author in front of the other customers.
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘You heard me, Mr Bradley. You've had enough to drink.’
‘Kindly serve what I ordered, there's a good man. I'll decide when I've had enough.’
‘No. Sorry, now, sir. It's for your own good. You were carried out of here once before.’
‘Okay. Well, is Lily in the building? I wish to say goodbye to her. I'm leaving Belfast.’ Right, let's see what he does now, thought Liam. He can't refuse to let me say goodbye to Lily.
‘I'll see if my wife is busy,’ said Jack. ‘Excuse me.’
Liam waited for ten minutes until Lily came in through the hall door, closely followed by her watchdog-husband. She seemed reluctant to speak to Liam, although he couldn't think why. He wanted to tell her that she had been the inspiration for his second novel, and that he was in love with her. But he couldn't make his big speech with Jack standing there. He wished the landlord would go and change a barrel or something. The man had had Lily all to himself for years. It was time he set her free to become the muse of the world's best writer. World's best author, he corrected himself.
‘You're leaving us, Mr Bradley?’ Lily said brightly, as Jack scowled in the background. ‘Going anywhere nice?’ She offered to shake hands.
‘Yes,’ he said softly. ‘I'm going to live in the Bahamas. You don't fancy running away with me, do you?’ he whispered, as he held on to her hand and then kissed it.
‘Oh, now,’ she said. ‘You're a proper caution! What would Jack say!’
‘I mean it,’ he said. ‘I'm in love with you. Surely, you knew that?’
‘Mr Bradley!’
‘Please call me Liam.’
‘Pull yourself together, for heaven's sake, Liam. Why don't you stop drinking, eh? And you with such a great career, and all. Come on, now, settle your head.’
‘I mean it, Lily, I want you to come with me. I'm going to go to the Bahamas and buy a beach house there. Imagine you and me together, walking hand in hand along the shore.’ But Lily pulled her hand away from his trembling grasp, and stepped briskly back.
‘Jack,’ she said. ‘Mr Bradley is leaving now.’
‘Lily, I love you.’
But Jack was at his elbow and was marching him over towards the door.
‘I love you, Lily!’ Liam shouted out, and Jack gasped with shock.
‘Go home, and have some dignity,’ Jack said roughly, as he pushed Liam out onto the cobbles. He was itching to punch him a few times, but then he remembered that Liam was very drunk indeed and probably didn't mean what he said. And also, Jack didn't want to end up in a police cell again. But then Jack's long-dormant temper got the better of him, and he chanced one good swing at Liam Bradley's chin. Liam's sunglasses went flying as the blow reverberated up and down his spine. Jack shook his head sadly, and went back inside, slamming the door behind him. Well, that was it, he thought. He was more than ready for a break from the hospitality industry now.
Liam, stunned and badly shaken, took a few steps backwards before tripping and falling heavily against one of the metal dumpsters. He cut his ear on a bolt, and ripped the back of his suit on a piece of glass. What a fiasco, he thought. He was only in the damn place a few seconds altogether. And now he was cut and bleeding, and Jack Beaumont hadn't even given him the satisfaction of beating him up properly. One single thump was all he could manage, and Jack hadn't even waited to see the other man go down. How humiliating! Liam lay on the ground for a few minutes, waiting for Lily to come out and apologize for her husband's behaviour. And maybe kiss him better. Liam didn't wipe away the drips of blood that were running down his neck, hoping he would look much more masculine with a bleeding wound. But the front door of the pub remained closed.
Liam sighed heavily before pulling his mobile phone out of his pocket. Luckily, it was still working. He could phone the police and have Jack Beaumont arrested. He could phone the press and make a bit of a splash. But he couldn't be bothered with either option. He was lonely, he realized with a lurch of panic in his heart. He dialled Betsy's number in desperation. Betsy would come and collect him, he knew, and probably take him home to Marlborough Avenue for a while, and make him feel better. A farewell spot of kitchen-counter copulation might even be on the cards.
But when Betsy answered the phone, she only said, ‘I'm sorry, Liam, but I don't think it would be a good idea for us to see each other.’
‘Betsy, I'm hurt.’
‘What happened?’ She sighed.
‘Jack Beaumont hit me.’
‘So you were after his wife? I knew it.’
‘Come on, Betsy, I need a lift,’ he pleaded.
‘Where's your car?’
‘I'm pissed, for God's sake, woman. It's at the hotel.’
‘You may walk it, then,’ she said.
‘Don't you want to see me?’
‘No. I don't.’
‘Not even for a goodbye shag? For old times' sake,’ he quipped hopefully.
‘Bog off, Limo,’ Betsy said and she hung up.
23. The Star of the Show
‘Everybody, stand over there,’ said Lily, loading a film into her camera. It was the last day of February 2005, the day when they would give Vincent Halloran their final answer. He was calling round in half an hour to hear the news, good or bad. The tavern was closed to the public for the occasion. Everyone was sure that Lily and Jack were going to sell but there was always a chance they would change their mind.
‘I want to take a picture of everyone.’
‘You mean us too?’ asked Barney, peering out of the snug.
‘Of course,’ she smiled at them.
‘Oh, now,’ muttered Joey, smoothing down his old jacket. ‘The shape of us.’
‘Speak for yourself,’ said Francy Mac, already on his feet.
‘Good man, Francy,’ said Lily. So, Barney, Joey and Francy Mac lined up neatly on one side of the huge brick fireplace, and gave their best smiles for the camera. Daisy, Trudy, Bridget and Marie stood on the other side in a little huddle. Daisy did her best to look smaller, leaning in a bit so she wouldn't be towering over the others. Bridget had her hands clasped tightly together, and Marie and Trudy had their arms round each other for moral support. Despite the long working hours, and the constant tiredness, something special had happened in the tavern over the Christmas holidays. The nine people present had become a family of sorts, and even Francy Mac could feel the emotion fizzing in the air around them.
‘Come on, the two of you,’ laughed Barney.
‘We need the stars of the show,’ said Joey. For once, Francy Mac was lost for words.
Lily set the timer on the camera and then she and Jack took their places in the centre. They stood in front of the dancing flames in the hearth, and held hands.
‘Say cheese!’ said Jack, laughing. The flashbulb popped, and the moment was captured for ever.
When Vincent Halloran came into the tavern, he knew that his magnificent plans would go ahead after all. There was a ligh
t feeling in the air: a shifting of atmosphere that told him his luck was in. Jack came out from behind the counter and shook his hand warmly. And Lily was smiling and laughing, and much more animated than last time. He wasn't to know that Lily's nerves were actually in tatters: she was scared stiff of moving out of the only home she had known all her adult life. But she did not want the twin responsibilities of caring for the Lavery mural, and causing the other traders to lose their compensation money. And she was exhausted with all the catering and serving and domestic dramas. She kept telling herself that in a couple of months she would be enjoying herself in Paris, and she would have Jack all to herself again. And even that image made her uneasy because she had never been on a plane before.
‘I hope the news is good,’ Vincent boomed. ‘Have you an answer for me? I can't wait any longer, I'm afraid. It's now or never.’
‘Well, then, yes,’ she said, in a breathless rush. ‘If the offer still stands, we are ready to accept.’
‘Excellent,’ he almost roared. ‘I knew you would! Fair play to you.’
‘It wasn't an easy decision,’ Lily added.
‘I'm sure, I'm sure,’ Vincent agreed, his face beaming.
‘And we haven't told anybody about you-know-what,’ whispered Lily, pointing at the ceiling. They had all agreed to keep the fragment of mural a secret, and let Vincent Halloran deal with the official fallout when the time came. As he had pointed out to them during the Boxing Day meeting, he had a lifetime of experience dealing with bureaucrats and bureaucracy. Bridget had been warned to be extra-careful in the sitting room at all times, and they had moved her bed right into the middle of the room, where she would be less likely to damage the walls.
‘Good, that's very good.’ Vincent was rubbing his hands together with joy, even though his wife had advised him not to do that because it made him look like a Dickensian pickpocket.
‘In the end, that's what convinced us,’ Lily said. ‘It wasn't the money. It was the painting. We couldn't just leave something like that hidden away behind the wallpaper for ever.’ Lily thought wistfully of the great artwork possibly waiting to be uncovered in her sitting room. She'd been so tempted, many times, to uncover it herself, but knew she must leave it to the experts. And that meant waiting until the mall was completed. They didn't want someone from the government poking their nose in and spoiling everything at this stage. Maybe taking over the tavern with a court order, and delaying work on the mural for several years until a satisfactory procedure had been worked out. When the time came to reveal it to the world, Lily and Jack were to say they had no idea it was ever there.