Barefoot Over Stones

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Barefoot Over Stones Page 12

by Liz Lyons


  ‘No, she knows that Mam doesn’t relish the Clancys so she won’t say a thing. I just thought that you should know, that’s all.’

  ‘That would be the wisest move all right. We may have to start block-booking the fire brigade if she gets wind that your new girlfriend could be contaminated by riff-raff from Leachlara.’

  Con was a little shocked. He wasn’t sure if Leda was on speaking or confiding terms with her sister but if she was she wouldn’t have been painting a pretty picture, based on his shabby treatment of her recently. He decided that Leda must be staying quiet about their little arrangement. The fact that she was prepared to protect him by her silence made him a bit guilty for the way he had begun to ignore her a little more and like her a little less. He had begun to think that landing her in dangerous proximity to his highflying Dublin life had been a serious error of judgement. He had underestimated how many people he knew in Dublin and he didn’t want the gossipmongers who dealt in the abundant details of who was sleeping with whom ever turning their forensic attention on him. Still, besides turning up at the railings of Leinster House shouting his name like an imbecile, he couldn’t say she had put a foot wrong. Even then he had passed the girl at the gate off as a young constituent who was a little star-struck and a few slices short of a full loaf. His solicitor said she was a demon of a worker who would turn her hand to anything and seemed very mature in comparison to some of the other girls who worked in the office.

  Con decided he would make an effort to call at the flat more often, take her some of that chocolate she liked and maybe slip her a bit of money for new clothes to show his appreciation for her patience and her silence. With an election campaign looming he wanted everything in order and he had to admit that sleeping with Leda made him feel young again. Six months ago he had felt depressed that his life was winding down to an inexorable miserable end. He wasn’t sure if his seat would be safe in the next election nor whether he had the bottle to fight for every last vote to make it so; and if he didn’t win, the thought of an open-ended retirement in Leachlara sank his mood further. All that had changed the night he had taken his life by the scruff of the neck and decided to think just of himself and put his own pleasure first for a change. Leda was getting her pay-off and he was getting his. He felt alive and ready for anything and everything that might come his way.

  The prawns were tough and the sauce was watery and under-seasoned. Mary Abernethy was not impressed by her husband’s choice of restaurant. She could think of at least half a dozen places in nearby streets that could top his choice but lack of taste and poor judgement were traits she depended on in her husband. In fact she found it comforting that he so often got so much wrong. Still, it was lovely to see Dan and she had to admit that his little slip of a girlfriend seemed sweet and was very attractive. Her features were delicate. She was well groomed in a way that pleased Mary Abernethy. Her long dark hair was swept back from her face in a chic pleat, her fingernails were polished and her dress, though a little on the low-cut side for Mary’s liking, was elegant and looked expensive. Dan had chosen well but then again she expected nothing less. She had taught him to recognize class when he saw it. Dan seemed very proud of Alison. He scarcely took his eyes off her and in the interests of keeping her son happy Mary decided that she would do her best not to show how much she detested her husband. She would try to conceal how her skin prickled with disdain when he opened his mouth. It was only right that young people should believe in love and believe that another person could make you happy. She had believed in all that once too, believed that Con Abernethy would never let her down. She ate the turgid prawns as her way of committing to an acceptably pleasant afternoon.

  Alison had ordered the prawns too and thought they were delicious. She had never been to any place quite so posh and was doing her best not to show how overwhelmed she felt by the occasion and the restaurant. Caharoe didn’t really run to smart places to eat. Lovett’s was the mainstay of the Sunday-lunch crowd and apart from a sandwich bar and a small coffee shop and bakery at the end of Earl Street there was nowhere else. She wondered what Rose, probably now up to her neck in chip fat at the Daisy May, would make of the Liffey Bar and Grill. She might take her the single-sheet daily-specials menu as a souvenir. If Ciara were there she would more than likely lift the salt cellar, a few napkin rings or maybe a light fitting, but Alison had none of her bravery or lack of fear.

  Ciara had sent her with the express purpose of finding out exactly what Mary Abernethy was like. She maintained that she knew all she needed to know about Con. All of Leachlara thought his wife was a stuck-up cow and nothing that Alison was witnessing was giving her much cause to disagree. Mary was cold and formal with her husband, hardly willing to look his way or wait for him to finish a point before interrupting him. She was different with Dan but her adoring gazes and acquiescent nods seemed overplayed and somewhat fake. The lack of natural warmth between them was quite startling. Dan behaved with her as if he was in the company of an ageing aunt who had to be indulged and tolerated. In contrast Dan and Con were a comfortable double act and Alison was finding it very hard to reconcile the idea of his father that she had garnered from Ciara’s damning reports with the man who sat opposite her making every effort to put her at her ease.

  ‘So, Alison, I promise not to hold it against you, but do you reckon your folks vote with my lot or do they line up with the chancers on the other side?’ Con winked at her so she knew he really didn’t give two hoots what way her parents voted.

  Before she had a chance to reply Mary was in like a shot. ‘For God’s sake, Con, will you let the girl alone? Do you really think she cares one iota about politics? A young girl has other things on her mind and, just in case you think the fame of Con Abernethy has reached our neighbouring counties, I doubt very much if Mr and Mrs Shepherd have ever heard of you. You might think you are a sniff away from the cabinet table but you are just a big fish in a small pond. Now, if you will excuse me, Alison and Dan, I must go to the bathroom.’

  When she left the table the air of tension that had settled around them like a coiled spring relented and Alison knew that in this dynamic she would always feel more at home with the Abernethy men. Ciara was right. Mary was a stuck-up cow and she felt sad for Dan that every time his mother opened her mouth he seemed to freeze in anticipation of another bitter comment to follow on from the last. Con chatted to her about Caharoe; he had worked there straight after he left school but she thought the business he spoke of must no longer exist because its name didn’t ring a bell. She told him about her father’s practice and how her mother looked after all the practicalities of running it so her father could concentrate on the patients. As she talked to Con she could feel Dan watching her with admiring warmth, adding in details which she had forgotten and making sure the flow of conversation continued. She felt she was doing OK, giving a good account of herself as Rose had urged her to do in her pep talk the day before. By the time Mary came back from the bathroom Con had gone ahead and ordered desserts. He was due back at the Dáil for an important vote for which he had no pairing and so could not linger with them. In her absence he ordered crème brûlée for his wife. ‘It’s her favourite,’ he explained to Alison, ‘or used to be anyway,’ he added a touch wistfully.

  Mary didn’t lift a spoon to her dessert. ‘Far too warm a day to think of eating sweet things,’ she said, though no one at the table, devouring their delicious desserts, was sure what exactly that was supposed to mean.

  Con kissed Alison on the cheek, said how delighted he was to meet her and thanked her for making Dan look so happy. Dan hugged his father warmly and watched with practised resignation as his mother refused to catch his father’s eye as he left the restaurant. Mary settled a little when Con had left and she seemed to make a renewed effort to be pleasant and engaging.

  ‘I hope you will come to see us in Leachlara now, Alison. We are quite convenient to the town, so you and Dan could go out although quite what there is to do in Leachlar
a of a night remains a mystery to me. Still, we would love to see you. Let’s arrange it soon, Dan.’

  ‘Yeah, Mam, but we both have exams coming up so it might be the summer before we can get down.’

  ‘Right, well, whatever you say, pet. Anyway, I have to make the three-thirty from Heuston. Would you ever be an angel and get them to call a taxi for me?’

  With his mother packed off to the train Dan led Alison for a meandering stroll through Stephen’s Green. He was subdued and when pressed he admitted that he had found his parents’ brittle behaviour and the resulting awkwardness difficult to bear because he had wanted it to be easy for Alison.

  ‘It wasn’t that bad, Dan. They both made an effort, especially your dad. I thought he was quite sweet, to be honest, and I wasn’t really expecting that. I thought he would have at least one pair of horns and a tail to swing.’

  ‘It’s Mam who always makes things difficult. I know he isn’t always right but she could bear a grudge for an entire continent. Anyway, thanks for meeting them. You were absolutely brilliant. Promise me one thing though.’

  ‘Anything.’

  ‘Really? Anything at all? Well, I know the very thing that would make me blissfully happy but seeing as you are blushing now we can negotiate that later.’ He touched her face gently with his hand, feeling the soft lushness of her skin. Alison was willing her face not to redden any more.

  ‘What do you want me to promise, Dan?’ she asked as coolly as she could manage.

  ‘That we will never end up like them and that even if it’s the last place on earth we will never live in Leachlara. I will live anywhere else as long as I am with you. I might even risk life and limb and chance a stint in Cork,’ he added with a wink.

  ‘I promise.’

  They found a seat by the duck pond and Alison cuddled into him to share another of their gorgeous kisses. She was grateful that he wasn’t putting pressure on her to sleep with him but if she were truthful she would admit that she wanted to more than anything. Everything about Dan made her want to get in deeper and to know him better. She trusted her judgement and she trusted him. She kissed him passionately and as the April afternoon sun slipped from the sky she knew she was in love and that life could not possibly offer anything else that would make her happier.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  It wasn’t the best timing in the world but Alison was not about to reject her parents’ offer of a visit. She and Ciara had piles of revision to do but her dad had said on the phone that it was going to be a flying trip to Dublin. They had a two-day conference with a reception and dinner on the first night that they were going to skip in order to spend the evening with Alison. She hadn’t been home in two weekends because of exam preparation and they were missing her and wanted to make sure she was looking after herself. Their main concern, if they were honest, was that Alison had a boyfriend of a few months’ standing and Richard Shepherd wanted to make sure that no unsuitable type was lurking around his daughter and maybe interfering with her college work. He had told Alison that she was to invite her boyfriend along to meet him and her mother. No decent young man would decline that offer, he reasoned to himself. If he wouldn’t show up Richard was more than happy to draw his own conclusions about him.

  His wife, on the other hand, was anxious to get a look at this Dan Abernethy who seemed to have knocked her normally unflappable daughter sideways. Alison wasn’t being totally secretive about him but she was being reticent in a way that was new in her dealings with her mother. Cathy Shepherd’s curiosity was spiked by this change in Alison but ultimately she trusted her daughter’s judgement, which was more than could be said for her husband, who was just short of practising his stale boxing skills.

  The flat was in its usual jumble-sale state but Alison felt that she would be able to make it look fairly presentable with a few hours’ work. Just as long as her parents didn’t look into any cupboards or pull out any drawers where she was planning on storing all the paraphernalia that she and Ciara (mostly Ciara, it had to be said) had left hanging around the living room. She had told Dan that they wanted to see him and had been delighted at his positive response.

  ‘Well, they can’t be any more dysfunctional than the Leachlara division. Actually it will be quite something to observe a married couple that actually like each other. I would come for that alone. Will Ciara be there?’

  ‘She says she might make herself scarce but I have told her that she is totally welcome to stay for dinner, whatever that’s going to be. The gas cooker is so bloody temperamental that I haven’t a bog’s notion what I’ll give them to eat. At the moment a few cartons of Pot Noodle from Spar seems like the most viable option.’

  ‘Look, my dad keeps filling the freezer with hunks of meat that Tony and myself are never likely to get through, especially now that Tony has become a vegetarian to impress the ladies. I have stacks of steaks and everything so I will bring over a few of those and grill them. We will make some salad and stick on a few spuds to bake. It will be better than anything they would get at that conference dinner. I will bring over plenty in case Ciara decides to grace us with her presence.’

  ‘God, Dan, that is just brilliant. I can’t believe you would do all that for me. Thanks a million.’ Alison clasped her arms about him in gratitude for how relaxed he was being about everything but also because she couldn’t keep her hands off him.

  ‘Listen, it’s the least I can do after putting you through that crappy lunch with my folks. I owe you and I am looking forward to showing your dad that I am not the low life he suspects I am.’

  ‘Why would he think you’re a low life? He hardly knows anything about you – I have been keeping your details to myself.’

  Dan smirked. ‘It’s a father’s main function in life to think that whoever is hanging around his daughter is up to no good. Anyway, I will turn on the charm and see if I can distract him from the urge to throttle me on sight.’

  Alison set about the cleaning of the apartment with as much energy as she could muster. It was not going to be a root-and-branch clean that her mother would approve of but, coupled with a blast of air freshener, hopefully it would do the trick.

  ‘Dan cooking steaks?’ Ciara was thoroughly amused at the prospect of seeing him get into a sweat over their temperamental grill while the Shepherds looked on.

  ‘What’s so funny about that? I think he is absolutely wonderful to help out because I was beginning to panic about what I could give them to eat. Dad is a proper-dinner man so one of our toasted ham and cheese specials was not going to be enough.’

  ‘Do you know what? I think I am going to have to stay to witness this, Alison. Will he bring a steak for me or will I have to fend for myself?’

  ‘Of course he will, Ciara. We are hardly going to sit there eating a big dinner while you eat beans out of the tin. Now, seeing as you are no good at cleaning, would you go down to the shop and get an apple tart and a block of vanilla ice cream please?’

  Ciara wouldn’t take any money from Alison. ‘Let this be my contribution to the war effort. Never let it be said that I refused to break bread with an Abernethy. I don’t even like steak, but for this I would eat the cow’s head.’

  Much to Ciara’s disappointment, Dan didn’t burn the steaks or fill the flat with smoke and fumes. In fact he seemed like an old hand at the cooking game and it was clear that the Shepherds were well impressed with Alison’s boyfriend. Richard did his best to play hardball in the beginning but Dan’s charm had won him over within the first hour. He proclaimed the steak to be the best he had eaten in a long time. They didn’t even seem to mind that they were balancing their dinners precariously on their laps because Jean McDermott had neglected to provide the flat with a table. Cathy murmured her appreciation of the food and smiled so agreeably at everything Dan said that Ciara thought she was in real danger of puking at the love-in she was witnessing. Alison, who had been in floods of nerves all day at the prospect of her boyfriend meeting her parents, began to relax as
the dinner progressed.

  Dan had brought two bottles of wine, as had the Shepherds, so Ciara decided that there was nothing else for it but to start laying into the red in order to render her system immune to the display of happy families. She might have stayed there sipping her red wine, adding an odd superfluous comment to the conversation and helping herself to a second bowl of ice cream, but she was stopped in her tracks when Richard Shepherd started speculating about the future political career of Con Abernethy and the possibility of a ministerial portfolio. She listened as Dan commended his father and praised his ability and his patience in dealing with his constituents’ problems at every hour of the day and night. Ciara was deeply unsettled by the whitewash hypocrisy of the conversation and the way Alison sat there agog as if she had never heard a word that Ciara had said about Dan’s low-life father. In her eyes Con Abernethy was nothing more than a jumped-up stroke puller, a big fish in the murky pond of Leachlara, but most of all she thought of him as the pervert who was shamelessly tailing her teenage sister. It annoyed her to the very core that Con was being hailed as a politician awaiting his big break, a local hero about to grace the national stage.

  Ciara topped up her wine glass from the bottle that sat on the hearth without offering to top up anyone else’s diminishing glass. Richard Shepherd looked at her and thought, yet again, that she drank a lot for a teenage girl and was most likely not the best influence for Alison. Unaware, Ciara continued to knock back the wine, willing it to work some of its relaxation magic. Her heart thumped in her chest with anger and although she had promised herself she would not say anything she could feel the threads of that promise unravel within her.

  It was Cathy Shepherd who unwittingly snipped the final thread. ‘Your mother must be so proud of him, Dan. Did she ever think about running herself as a candidate?’

 

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