by Maria Hoey
Chapter 44
Afterwards
The house was in a quiet suburb of York, one of twelve in a small crescent. It was semi-detached and overlooked an oval green planted with shrubs and flowerbeds. There were two cars in the driveway; everything looked well-tended, perfectly pleasant and respectable. A far cry, thought Jacqueline, from the shabby block of flats where, all those years ago, she had surprised them. She pulled her hood back and rang the bell and watched through a panel of wavy, frosted glass as the distorted image came nearer and nearer. She had no doubt it was him – long streak of paralysed piss.
The door opened.
“Hi, Eddie,” said Jacqueline. “Long time, no see.”
He was beginning to lose his hair but otherwise, it seemed to her, he had changed very little. He was still gangly and lean, with the same sloping shoulders and the prominent Adam’s apple. The skin around his mouth showed the ravages of acne, as though his adult body harboured the ghost of his teenage self. He appeared neither dismayed nor surprised to find her on his doorstep. Perhaps, thought Jacqueline, he had been expecting her for some time.
Behind him, a figure appeared and Roy’s high clear voice called, “Auntie Jacqueline! Mum, Auntie Jacqueline’s come!”
In the narrow hallway, Gayle hugged Jacqueline. “I can’t believe you’re here. But why didn’t you let me know you were coming? Come in out of that rain, will you – you look like a drowned rat. Why on earth didn’t you say you were coming? We’d have picked you up from the airport. I suppose you caught a train here? Give me that jacket, will you, and come into the lounge and sit down – you must be shattered. And where are your bags? You haven’t any bags.”
She did not wait for an answer but chattered on and, while Jacqueline unzipped her jacket, she noticed that Eddie had folded his arms and was leaning against the wall watching her. Midway up the stairs, Roy had settled himself on a step and was gazing down on her benignly. She smiled at him and followed Gayle into the lounge. It was a large room with a lived-in appearance. The brown leather suite was a little shabby but it looked comfortable. In one corner a big widescreen television flickered.
Gayle picked up the remote and the screen went blank.
“Sit down, sit down, Jacqueline.”
Jacqueline sat down on the armchair Gayle indicated and Gayle sat down on the sofa opposite.
“Oh, Jacqueline, you’ve no idea what this means to me! And, you know, you couldn’t have picked a better time to get here. I just got back from the hospital – Alison spends almost every day there. But it’s Eddie’s turn to go tonight and Alison will come home for a few hours’ sleep – she’ll be thrilled to see you, Jacqueline. But why didn’t you tell me you were coming, and where are your bags?”
“They’re at the guesthouse,” said Jacqueline.
“What guesthouse? You’re not staying at any guesthouse. You’ll stay here. Eddie can go and get your bags – you’ll go and get Jacqueline’s bags, won’t you, Eddie? You have time before you have to go the hospital?”
“Sure,” said Eddie quietly, and sat down in the armchair furthest away from the two women. “I have time. If that’s what Jacqueline wants – just tell me where to go.”
“It’s not that simple.” Jacqueline ignored him and addressed herself to Gayle. “I haven’t come from the airport.”
“Where have you come from then?” said Gayle. “You’re being very mysterious, Jacqueline.”
“I don’t mean to be,” said Jacqueline. “I’ve been staying at a guesthouse, that’s all, but not in York. In that place I asked you about on the phone – Coldhope-on-Sea?”
“You don’t mean … but that’s where Luca …” Gayle stopped abruptly but Jacqueline saw how her glance went to Eddie, the way her face changed, the pleasure in her eyes changing to surprise and, if she was not mistaken, dismay. “You mean you’ve been staying there, you’ve been in England? For how long?”
“Just a few days.” As she said it, Jacqueline thought how much longer it seemed.
“But you never said. I’ve been ringing you every day, and texting you, and all the time you were over here staying in some guesthouse?”
“Sea Holly Villa,” said Jacqueline, like that altered anything.
Gayle was gazing at her, her face a study in bewilderment. “But why didn’t you say anything? There I was, thinking you were at home in that house all on your own.”
“I didn’t see any point in worrying you, Gayle,” said Jacqueline. “I only came today because I needed to talk to Eddie.”
Eddie, who had appeared to be studying the pattern of the carpet, looked up abruptly and met her gaze.
“Why would you want to talk to Eddie?” said Gayle and Jacqueline noticed the change in her tone, as though a note of wariness had replaced the earlier indignation.
“Because I do,” she said.
“Fine by me,” said Eddie.
“But not by me,” said Gayle. She leaned forward, her eyes on her husband. “Did you not hear what she just said, Eddie? She’s been over here for days and she didn’t even bother to let me know. And now she just turns up on our doorstep because she’s taken a notion. Not to see me or Alison or the baby, oh no, but because she wants to talk to you. How long is it since Jacqueline talked to you, Eddie?”
Eddie shook his head as though the puzzle was beyond him. “I don’t know, but I don’t have a problem talking to Jacqueline.”
But Gayle was not looking at Eddie now – her shimmering eyes were on Jacqueline. “My God, you’ve got some nerve, Jacqueline Brennan. As long as we’ve lived in this house, I’ve been begging and pleading with you to come and stay. You wouldn’t. But now, out of the blue, here you are demanding to interrogate my husband. Well, I’m not having it.”
“It’s alright, Gayle,” said Eddie, gently. “I want to speak to Jacqueline too.”
“I said I’m not having it, Eddie! I want her to go.” She jumped to her feet.
“But Mum,” said Roy, “it’s Auntie Jacqueline.”
Jacqueline looked at his soft stricken face and felt grieved to be the cause of it.
“Roy,” said Eddie, “go get your Auntie Jacqueline a cup of tea, please.”
Jacqueline got up. “I don’t want any tea – and if Gayle wants me to go, I’ll go.”
“There’s no need for that.” Eddie got up and went to Gayle. He encircled her waist with both hands and, his voice soothing and conciliatory, said, “You know you don’t really want Jacqueline to go, Gayle.”
Jacqueline snapped. “That’s for Gayle to decide, not you!”
Gayle broke away from Eddie and turned on her, “If you don’t mind, Jacqueline, I’d like to talk to my husband in private.” She walked out of the room followed by Eddie.
Roy fixed mournful eyes on Jacqueline and she smiled.
“It’ll be okay,” she said.
“I think I’ll go up to my room now,” said Roy and he slouched out.
As the door closed behind him, Jacqueline sank back into the armchair.
“Jesus wept!” she said.
They were gone for some time and after a while, Jacqueline got up and crossed to the sideboard. She picked up a photograph in a silver frame: Eddie and Gayle on their wedding day. Eddie was looking down his nose at his bride, Gayle’s face was upturned to his, solemn and seraphic.
Jacqueline imagined them arguing about her in the kitchen. Or perhaps they didn’t argue, but talked things through reasonably. Gayle and Eddie as a couple: what did she know of them at all?
Moments ago, standing outside their front door, she had been reminded of the last time she had turned up unannounced on Gayle’s doorstep. Then, as now, Eddie had opened the door to her, only then they had been living in a grubby little flat, and she had not been prepared for him, nor for that matter had he for her. She could still remember how he had gasped at the sight of her, the comedic quality of his astonishment. And she had gaped right back, standing there with her little case in one hand and a great stupid bun
ch of daffodils in the other. She had bought the flowers on impulse at the train station because they were Gayle’s favourites. Just before she ran off, she had shoved them into his arms and Eddie’s mouth had opened in a silent fishlike O. At the top of the road, she had looked back just once and he was still standing there in the doorway with her flowers. They had glowed golden-yellow against the drabness of the street, the greyness of the day. Then she had seen Gayle burst out the door and come running after her.
The door to the living room opened so quietly Jacqueline was unaware of Gayle’s presence until she spoke.
“It’s pretty awful, isn’t it?” She held out her hand and Jacqueline handed her the photograph.
“I’m lost for words,” she said. She watched as Gayle replaced the photograph then went back to sit on the sofa once more.
Jacqueline hesitated a moment, then went and sat next to her.
“So did you ever make that list?” said Gayle.
“What list?” It was the last thing she had expected, and for a moment she had no idea what Gayle was talking about.
“The list for the memorial cards for Dad.”
“Oh, that list – no, not yet. I didn’t get round to it. I’m not a great one for making lists, as you know.”
“Well, you had other things to do,” said Gayle.
She did not, Jacqueline thought, even sound sarcastic.
“I suppose there were more Mass cards after I left?” Gayle asked.
“Yes, quite a few actually.”
“Who from?”
“God, I can’t think off-hand.”
“You haven’t even opened them, have you?” said Gayle.
“No. I haven’t, I’m sorry.”
“It doesn’t matter,” said Gayle.
Something in her tone made Jacqueline feel depressed. She did not think it mattered either, but it should matter to Gayle. She looked at her sister, leaning back on the sofa with her eyes closed. Her face looked thin and worn, almost haggard. Jacqueline experienced a surge of compassion.
“You look tired, Gayle.”
Gayle’s eyelids parted and opened slowly as though the act took a great effort of will. She looked at Jacqueline, her eyes forlorn.
“You’ve never forgiven me, have you?” she said.
“Forgiven you for what?”
“For Eddie, for being with him, for marrying him and having the kids with him.”
Jacqueline looked down at her feet in her sandals – her toes had gone quite brown. “It’s not about forgiving,” she said.
“Then what is it about, Jacqueline? Tell me.”
“I don’t know – it’s about understanding, I suppose.”
Gayle sighed. “Pick whatever word you like, Jacqueline – you’re the editor – but what it comes down to is that you’ve held it against me ever since.”
Jacqueline frowned. “I don’t think I have. I just never understood how you could marry him when,” she hesitated, choosing to go gently, “when there was even a shadow of a doubt.”
Gayle made a sound in her throat. It was hard to tell if it was a laugh or a groan. “For God’s sake, Jacqueline, you just don’t get it. For me there is no doubt, there never has been.”
“What, not a shadow?”
“Not a shadow. My God, Jacqueline do you think I could have married Eddie and had a family with him, lived with him for all these years if I hadn’t felt absolutely certain in my own mind?”
“Then you’re very lucky, Gayle. I wish I had such certainty about anything.”
“But I am certain, Jacqueline. That’s what I would have told you that time you came to London to surprise me, if you’d given me a chance. Remember that, Jacqueline?”
“Of course I remember,” said Jacqueline. “I was only thinking about it a minute ago. I’m hardly likely to forget it.”
“Like I’ve never forgotten the things you said to me when I ran after you that day,” said Gayle. “Cruel, hurtful things. You called me a booby prize, you said that Eddie had only ever wanted Lilly and that he had just settled for me.”
“I was eighteen,” said Jacqueline. “I’d come to London to visit my sister, I had no idea you were living with Eddie. I mean, I knew you were in touch with him over here, or at least I guessed, but how could I know you’d shacked up with him?”
“Eddie isn’t going to be a doctor anymore, Daddy. He’s moving to England to study to be a pharmacist.”
“That’s some comedown, isn’t it? Selling face creams and aspirin. How the mighty are fallen. And how come you know so much about what Eddie Sexton is doing, Gayle?”
“I just heard, Daddy, that’s all.”
Gayle was looking at her. “You always knew what was going on, didn’t you, Jacqueline? Nobody could ever keep a secret from you. And I understand you were shocked to find me and Eddie living together, but to say those things …”
“I was shocked,” said Jacqueline, “and angry and confused and disappointed. I’d brought you flowers …” She looked down at her hands – she had no idea why she had mentioned the flowers. It was a stupid thing to say and inconsequential and she had no idea why it suddenly made her want to weep.
“It wasn’t true, what you said,” said Gayle. “Eddie and me, it just happened naturally. It started out as a friendship, just keeping in touch by letter and then when I came over to London too it just seemed like the most natural thing in the world to look each other up. And it grew out of there. Eddie fell in love with me, Jacqueline, he really did.”
“I don’t doubt that much, and I’m sorry I hurt you that time. I didn’t come here to hurt you this time either. I would like to speak to Eddie but not if it’s going to make you unhappy. But you said yourself that you have no doubts, so what is there to be afraid of?”
“I’m not afraid,” said Gayle. “I just don’t know why you want to go raking things up.”
“Then don’t think of it as raking – think of it as tidying. There are some loose ends that I need to tidy up, that’s all, and maybe talking to Eddie will help me do that.”
“But he’s already told everything he knows.”
“Has he? Does anyone ever tell everything? There are things I haven’t told you about that summer and I’m sure there are things you haven’t told me. Admit it, Gayle – everybody keeps things back.”
The stricken look on Gayle’s face took Jacqueline by surprise, then the door opened and Eddie put his head around it.
“If Jacqueline wants to talk to me, it had better be now because I’ll need to start out for the hospital in half an hour.”
Jacqueline looked at Gayle. “Are you okay with this?”
Gayle got to her feet. “If you have to talk to him, talk to him.”
Eddie stepped in and as she passed him he put his hand briefly on her shoulder. Then she was gone and the door closed quietly behind her.
“You have no idea what it was like, Jacqueline.” He had settled himself in the armchair and was leaning back, his eyes closed.
The impatience she had always experienced in his presence prickled Jacqueline’s skin like a heat rash. “Then tell me, Eddie,” she said. “What was it like?”
“Well, for starters, I didn’t go after her – oh, I’m not saying I didn’t try, I tried plenty of times. I even approached your father that time I asked her to go with me to the céilí – you probably know that. But it was obvious she wasn’t interested. Why would she be? She was Lilly Brennan for God’s sake – she could have anyone she wanted.” He opened his eyes. “So I gave up. And then one night, right out of the blue, she rang me. She was so nice and sweet to me, kept saying my name – Eddie this and Eddie that. ‘Eddie, I never see you around now – I’m starting to think you don’t like me anymore.’”
Consciously or unconsciously, as he spoke, something happened to Eddie’s face and the tone and inflections of his voice underwent a subtle change.
He was a good mimic and Jacqueline wanted to yell at him to shut up.
“Honest
ly, I thought it was a joke. I kept expecting that friend of hers, what was her name?”
“Goretti Quinn.”
“I kept expecting Goretti Quinn to start laughing in the background – you know how they were together. But Lilly really seemed to be on the level, so I told her that of course I still liked her and she said I should come over to the house in that case and call for her. She said your old man was old-fashioned about things like that. So I did, although I still half thought it was a trick and I kept expecting Lilly and the Quinn girl to jump out from behind a hedge and shout ‘Fooled you!’ – or something like that. God, I don’t think I ever sweated so much in my life.” He made a swipe at his receding hairline as though the ghost of his damp teenage hair was in danger of dripping onto his brow. “Your dad brought me in to the living room and you were all there, just looking at me. But your mother was lovely, everybody was lovely. And Lilly was really nice to me – that was the day she asked me if I wanted her to go with me, you know, be my girlfriend. Can you imagine how I felt? Of course I wanted it – I was never so happy in my whole life. It was like a dream.”
Watching him, Jacqueline had the unnerving sensation that she was looking at a middle-aged man but seeing a seventeen-year-old boy.
“But she wouldn’t let me kiss her,” he said.
Oh good girl, Lilly, thought Jacqueline.
“She said she didn’t want that yet, and I was fine about it. I never asked for anything from her, except to be with her. And I couldn’t believe that she wanted to be with me too.”
“Except she didn’t want to be with you, Eddie, did she?” said Jacqueline.
“No, she didn’t, but I didn’t know that then.”
“The dogs in the street could have told you,” said Jacqueline. An eleven-year-old child could have told you, she thought, and she watched Eddie’s face for some reaction to her cruelty – anger, pain, something – but she found nothing.
“Maybe they could,” Eddie’s voice sounded almost placid, “but I didn’t see it.”
“You never guessed that she was using you?”