‘Della, hi!’ she said cheerily when her sister in-law answered the phone. ‘How’s Kathryn?’
‘Kathryn’s fine,’ Della said snootily and Shauna could hear the sharpness in her tone. ‘She never got sick any more. We could have stayed after all.’
‘Oh dear. Pity.’ Shauna made a face as she twirled the cord of the phone between her fingers.
‘I believe Carrie, Dan and the kids stayed afterwards and that you managed to get a pump-up bed,’ Della added acerbically.
‘Would you believe, I remembered that Colin and Maria had one,’ Shauna said smoothly.
‘Great. Well, now that Kathryn’s OK again we were thinking we’d drive down this evening and stay the night. It was such a shame to cut our visit short yesterday. She could sleep on that bed; she’d love it,’ Della said airily.
‘Oh dear, we’re actually going to Carrie’s in an hour or so. We might even stay a couple of nights there,’ Shauna said, covering herself for the next night as well.
‘Oh!’ Her sister-in-law’s disappointment was palpable. ‘Well, how about New Year?’
‘We’re going to a party for New Year. We won’t be here,’ Shauna explained cheerfully.
‘Well then, we’ll have to come and stay for your going-away bash,’ Della snapped.
‘I’m trying to get over Christmas first. That’s another day’s work, Della. I’m delighted Kathryn’s on the mend. We’ll talk soon. Have to go – we’re heading off to Whiteshells Bay shortly and I need to get organized. See you.’
She didn’t even give Della time to answer but hung up, flipping her sister-in-law a triumphant two fingers as she did so. That girl had such a neck, she thought, feeling she’d been dragged through the wringer. She simply couldn’t take no for an answer. Now she was making plans for the going-away do. Shauna shook her head wearily. There was only so much she could deal with. That argument was for another day. Pity she was driving, she could have done with a drink, she thought longingly as she went back to the others. She’d have to be patient and wait until they were in Carrie’s.
Around four, she and Bobby prepared a cold meat and salads buffet that everyone helped themselves to. ‘King crisps and Branston pickle are the perfect accompaniment to cold turkey and ham,’ Bobby said dreamily, licking his fingers after stuffing a handful of crisps into his mouth.
‘I love chutney,’ Carrie confessed. ‘I’ve gone mad on tomato chutney. It’s one of my cravings.’
‘She’s eating all our profits. I can’t keep her in tomatoes,’ Dan moaned. They all laughed, enjoying the banter. By the time they had tidied up and packed some night clothes it was almost seven and within five minutes of starting their journey Chloe and Olivia were asleep. It had got bitterly cold again and sleety snow showers swirled around the cars as they drove north.
Shauna dropped Noel home; he wanted to go to bed early, he said. He was tired. The house was cold and she insisted on putting the heating on for him, knowing that he’d probably turn it off after an hour.
‘Do you need anything?’ she asked kindly.
‘Just a good night’s sleep.’ He yawned. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’
She felt almost sorry for him as she let herself out of the house. It must be lonely living on his own, even if he was an interfering old busybody. Still, it was a relief to close his front door behind her. She hated visiting her childhood home. Most of her memories were unhappy. The only joy in their house had been of their mother’s making and now that Anna was no longer there, it wouldn’t bother her if she never saw the place again. Sad but true, she thought dolefully as she got into the car and tried to shrug off the vague mantle of depression that always descended on her when she went home. The house was getting shabby. It needed doing up. Maybe she would say something to Carrie about getting it painted. She and Greg would pay for it, their contribution to Noel’s quality of life since they were going to be away for a couple of years. Suddenly the thought of lazing on the beach, warmed by the sun, far, far away from this cold, grey place seemed delightful and she wished that the move had all been sorted and that she was there.
Carrie had put the kids to bed by the time she got back and the fire was roaring up the chimney, the flames dancing, yellow and orange, casting flickering shadows in the lamplight. The Christmas tree lights twinkled like multicoloured stars, a beautiful sight that never lost its magic. The family room that opened off the kitchen was such a cosy, welcoming room, she thought as she sank into one of the comfortable armchairs and took the gin and tonic Dan handed her.
‘Gorgeous,’ she murmured as the tart, refreshing cold liquid slid down her throat. ‘You make the best G and T of anyone I know.’
‘One of my many attributes,’ Dan said smugly. ‘Carrie’s a lucky woman.’
‘Huh! No-one else would put up with you and your glasshouses.’ Carrie threw a cushion at him.
‘I see Davey got Monopoly. I haven’t played that in years. Anyone fancy a game?’ Bobby invited.
‘Will we, for a bit of a laugh?’ Shauna said eagerly. She loved board games.
‘First out makes supper,’ Carrie decreed.
‘You’re on,’ Dan agreed.
They played an uproarious game of Monopoly, cursing roundly as they landed in jail or had to pay a fortune in utilities. Dan was the first out and he busied himself in the kitchen making a feast of crackers, pâté, cheeses and savoury vol-au-vents.
‘How can we be hungry?’ Shauna wondered, inhaling the aromas that were wafting out of the kitchen.
‘I don’t know, but I’m really peckish.’ Carrie stretched luxuriously, thoroughly enjoying her evening.
‘It was all that naked aggression you were displaying. I never played such a vicious game of Monopoly in my life, and I know a bit about the property business. You’re a barracuda,’ Greg slagged, feeling totally laid back.
‘OK, you lot, do you want me to set the table posh, or do you want it in on your knees?’ the chef demanded.
‘Knees,’ everyone chorused as Bobby went to help Dan carry the food in.
They ate and chatted and laughed, sprawled around the fire, comfortable in each other’s company.
‘Thanks for this, Dan, Carrie, I’m really enjoying it. It’s been a lovely day and night,’ Shauna said as she snuggled into Greg and he kissed the top of her head. She had a rare feeling of well-being and she was looking forward to Chloe’s waking up in the morning to have fun with her cousins.
‘I’m glad I came home,’ Bobby confessed. ‘I was having second thoughts once I’d booked the flight, but now that I’m here, I’m having a great time. It’s very relaxing. Much more than I thought it would be. I can’t say Dad hasn’t got to me; he’s as bad as ever he was, and it was hard at the grave yesterday, but I can deal with it better. Maybe it’s because I’m older.’
‘He’s himself,’ Carrie murmured.
‘Indeed he is. At least your marriage is living up to the requirements of the Church!’ Shauna smiled at her husband. ‘We’re failing dismally.’
‘He went a step too far, Shauna.’ Greg frowned.
‘Yes he did, I agree. You were right. I’d no problem with what you said.’ She bit into a Tuc cracker smothered with duck pâté.
‘At least there’s hope for you pair. I’m a lost cause.’ Bobby grinned.
The phone rang and Carrie stretched out to answer it, wondering who was ringing at that hour of the night.
‘Oh, oh, OK. I’ll be over,’ they heard her say.
‘What’s up?’ Dan asked.
‘It’s Dad. He’s sick, he thinks he’s got that bloody tummy bug.’ She stood up wearily. ‘I’d better go over.’
Dan stood up and put a hand on her shoulder. ‘Sit down, Carrie. You don’t have to go tonight. It would be different if he was on his own, but Bobby’s here. You’ll take care of him, Bobby, won’t you? Carrie could do with a little break,’ he said firmly, eyes fixed on his brother-in-law.
‘Oh, yeah, sure, of course,’ Bobby said hastil
y, hauling himself off the floor. ‘Stay where you are, Carrie. It won’t take me five minutes to get home. Thanks for a great evening.’
‘Are you sure?’ Carrie felt bad.
‘No problem. Dan’s right. You and Shauna do it all the time. My turn.’
‘I feel mean.’ Carrie turned to Dan after Bobby had left.
‘Don’t,’ Dan retorted. ‘Bobby’s perfectly capable of looking after your dad for a night. There’ll be plenty of nights when you’ll be on call, so make the most of it.’
Carrie knew he was right but her evening was spoilt. She knew Noel would be disappointed that she hadn’t gone to take care of him and she knew, too, that Bobby was only going because Dan had made it impossible to refuse.
Shauna chewed her lower lip; Dan’s remark had been a little pointed. Was he letting her and Greg know, subtly, that he felt they were leaving Carrie in the lurch?
Bloody Della and her selfishness. If it wasn’t for her and that damned bug they would have been sitting happily getting quietly tipsy, relaxed with the world. Now the evening was ruined. She hadn’t offered to go, she thought guiltily. Irritation swamped her. Why couldn’t they be like a normal family instead of having all this angst and stress? It was at times like this that she felt she couldn’t get to the Gulf soon enough.
14
Bobby pulled up the hood of his parka, shivering against the biting wind that sliced in off the sea. What a pain in the ass! He’d been enjoying the relaxed, easy fun they’d been having and he’d felt pleasantly woozy after the wine and beer he’d drunk. Carrie’s house was warm and comfortable. He could have gone asleep sitting beside the fire. Now he had to go home and look after his dad and the house would probably be bloody freezing.
Dan had given him no option. He supposed he would have been perfectly happy to let Carrie go. Which wasn’t very fair, he acknowledged dolefully. Dan had certainly thought so. Bobby respected the way he’d looked out for Carrie. Dan was a real man. Strong and solid. Greg was much more mercurial and selfish. Carrie was far happier in her marriage than Shauna was. Just watching the two couples it was obvious that Carrie and Dan were a team who pulled together, whereas Shauna and Greg sometimes had an edge about them that hinted at strain.
He hadn’t realized how much Shauna wanted another baby. But when he’d seen Chloe playing with her cousins, he knew his sister was right to try for one. He would have hated to be an only child. He had a great bond with the girls. He was lucky, he knew that. They had been his protectors and supporters when he was a child and that had carried on into adulthood. The two of them mothered him faithfully and he had to admit he enjoyed it.
An empty beer can skittered across the street as a gust of wind swirled down Fisherman’s Lane, the smell of the salty, sandy seaweed and the creaking of the boats bringing back childhood memories. The air was fresh and rich after the fume-laden fug that he’d grown used to. He’d slept like a log on Shauna’s sofa; he wasn’t too sure how he’d fare tonight.
The village was deserted. Glimmers of light, fizzing from the Christmas trees that decorated cottage windows, shone out onto the quiet street. Splashes of orange from the sodium street lamps illuminated his way home. He hurried past the butcher’s shop and remembered how as a child he’d hated having to go to the butcher with his mother. The smell of blood and sawdust and the sound of Jim Ryan chopping meat with his big carver had frightened him. He’d been a real little wimp, he thought wryly as he passed the church and the graveyard. The wind whistled through the stripped branches of the swaying trees, lamenting and keening, the old gates rattling in the breeze. He tried not to think of his mother in that dark cold place. The cemetery was peaceful and restful in daylight, but at night it was lonely and sad.
‘Fuck you, Dad,’ he cursed as he passed the big redbrick house belonging to the priest, and saw the lights of his father’s bungalow in the distance. If it wasn’t for Noel he’d be relaxed and warm and pissed in Carrie’s, instead of cold and stressed and filled with unhappy thoughts. Resentment surged through him; Noel had never treated him with kindness, so why should he have to show him any? he thought sourly.
‘Is Carrie with you?’ Noel asked weakly when he let himself in and found his father hunched over the fire in the kitchen.
‘There was no need for her to come. I’m here.’ He tried to keep the annoyance out of his tone.
‘She said she was coming,’ Noel said petulantly. ‘I’ve been very sick, you know.’
‘You’ll be fine. It’s just a tummy bug.’ Bobby injected a false hearty note into his voice.
‘As long as it doesn’t affect my hiatus hernia. That can flare up something terrible,’ Noel moaned.
‘Have you any magnesia?’ Bobby sighed.
‘I took some.’
‘Why don’t you go to bed and I’ll bring you some hot milk,’ Bobby suggested.
‘Put some pepper into it. Your mother always put pepper into hot milk when anyone was sick,’ Noel said.
‘I know, I remember.’ Bobby went to the fridge and took out a carton of milk as his father rose feebly from the chair and headed for his bedroom. ‘And the Oscar goes to . . .’ he muttered as he filled a saucepan and turned on the gas. Noel wouldn’t entertain having a microwave.
His father hadn’t turned off the heating before he went to bed and Bobby decided he was damned if he was going to spend another cold night in the house, so he wasn’t going to turn it off either. He threw a few logs and a shovelful of coal onto the fire to build it up. He’d finish the thriller he was reading in front of it. A real fire was a treat. Listening to it hiss and spark and flame brought him back to when he was a little boy on wintry afternoons when it was getting dark and his father was still at work. His mother would be cooking their dinner and he’d be sitting by the fire reading, safe for a while from the hassle of the school yard and his father’s disapproval.
He brought Noel in his hot milk. It was disconcerting to see his father in his brown pyjamas looking vulnerable and washed out. For the first time Bobby could see that Noel was starting to age. His hair was thinning, he had liver spots on his hands, and tonight his face had a greyish hue.
‘Do you need anything else?’ he asked gruffly.
‘No. Thanks for the milk.’ Noel too was clearly feeling awkward.
‘Right, call me if you need me. I’ll leave my bedroom door open.’
Noel hunched down under the bedclothes with a deep sigh. Bobby left the door ajar and headed for the welcome respite of the fire-brightened kitchen.
Noel huddled under his bedclothes feeling queasy and annoyed. He was only a nuisance to his children, he thought sorrowfully. Carrie couldn’t even be bothered to come and make sure that he was all right. And Bobby was only here because he had to be. As for Shauna, he could be dead in his bed for all she’d really care. She’d been antagonistic towards him from when she was a little girl and even to this day he could still sense it from her.
Carrie had been his pet, his favourite. Kind Carrie who had always tried to please him and her mother. But tonight she’d let him down and left him to his son’s tender mercies.
A stomach spasm gripped him and waves of nausea swept over him. He could be dying for all they knew. If he was found dead in his bed in the morning it would serve them all right, he thought vengefully as he made his shaky way to the bathroom.
‘Mammy, I feel sick.’
Carrie woke out of a deep sleep to see Olivia, pale and shivering, standing beside the bed. ‘Oh, no,’ she groaned. If she could get her hands on Della Keegan she’d break her damned neck, she swore, as she swung out of bed and brought her daughter to the bathroom. Dan snored peacefully. Carrie knew that if she woke him he’d take care of Olivia, but she was awake now. What was the point of two of them being up?
He’d really stood up for her this evening, she thought, remembering the heart-warming feeling of knowing that she was loved and cherished that had enveloped her when he’d put his hand on her shoulder and told her to sit down.
Dan was the greatest gift the universe had ever given her. He had a kind and steady heart that had her and the children at its core. She was a very lucky woman, she acknowledged, remembering how gentle his hand had been.
Bobby had been taken aback when her husband had more or less told him to go home and look after Noel. He’d hidden it well and been agreeable but Carrie had caught the initial look of dismay on her brother’s face. It might be good for Bobby to realize that Noel was getting old. Maybe some of the old wounds might heal, she thought wistfully, ever the optimist.
‘How’s Dad? Olivia puked all night and Shauna’s feeling queasy.’ Bobby could hear the weary tone in his sister’s voice at the other end of the phone.
‘He was sick twice. He wanted to call the doctor at five a.m. but I managed to persuade him to wait. I phoned him an hour ago so we’re waiting for him.’ Bobby yawned.
‘Oh, crikey. The house could do with a hoover—’
‘Don’t panic. I’ve hoovered and polished and changed his bed. I’m a regular Mrs Mop,’ he assured her.
‘Don’t forget the bathroom. The doctor might go in to wash his hands.’
‘Good thinking. I’ll do that now. I don’t want Mam haunting me. She was always very particular when the doctor was coming.’
‘I’ll try and get over later on,’ she promised him.
‘Don’t worry, I’ll manage fine. I’ll do something light for dinner; I’m sure Dad won’t be eating, anyway. I’ll talk to you later.’ Bobby hung up and went into the bathroom to give it a clean.
His father had refused an offer of tea and toast, and was anxiously looking out his bedroom window to see if there was any sign of the doctor’s car. He was convinced he was dying.
‘Would you get me the priest?’ he said weakly to his son when he poked his head round the door to see if he was all right.
‘If the doctor thinks you need the priest I’ll get him when he’s gone,’ Bobby said firmly.
Noel’s lips tightened. He wasn’t used to being disobeyed, or, even worse, treated like a child.
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