Divided Loyalties

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Divided Loyalties Page 20

by Patricia Scanlan


  Fortunately it was just before the lunchtime rush and they got a window table for four. Carrie sorted Hannah in her high chair. Ashley insisted on sitting in a big chair at the table even though his head hardly came up over the top of it.

  ‘I might have the seafood cocktail for starters. I wonder is the meat organic? I haven’t had steak for ages,’ Della said brightly. ‘Too much red meat is bad for you.

  ‘I won’t have time for starters,’ Carrie murmured. ‘I’ll just have the chicken and mushroom vol-au-vent, but you go ahead.’ Typical of Della to go for the most expensive dishes on the menu. Well, if she thought Carrie was treating her to lunch today she had another think coming, for her cheek.

  ‘Oh, dear, that’s a shame. I’ll have one anyway.’ Della smiled at the waitress who’d come to take their order. ‘The seafood cocktail and the steak well done with a side salad and baked potato,’ she said, and raised an eyebrow at Carrie.

  ‘Vol-au-vent and chips for me, and could I have a very small portion of chicken, mashed potatoes, broccoli and gravy for Hannah? And you can bring ours with Della’s starter. I don’t have a lot of time.’ She smiled at Gina, the waitress, whom she knew well.

  ‘Sure, Carrie. No problem. Are you up to your eyes getting ready to go?’

  ‘You can say that again.’ Carrie laughed.

  ‘And for the little lad?’ Gina turned to Della.

  ‘Are your vegetables organic?’ Della enquired.

  ‘They are,’ Gina assured her.

  ‘Hmm. Could I have a small dish of vegetables and a slice of chicken breast? Is it corn fed?’

  ‘Indeed.’ Gina’s smile never wavered but Carrie could detect a certain hardness in the eyes. Gina was a very no-nonsense type, and well used to dealing with pretentious, disagreeable customers. Della was so irritating. Who did she think she was impressing?

  ‘Now you simply must go to the souk to buy the spices; they’re out of this world. Would you bring me back some cardamom, cumin and cinnamon? I’ll fix you up when you get home.’ Della sat back in her chair and fixed Carrie with her sly brown eyes once their order had been taken. ‘And would you ask Shauna to get me a couple of yards of that gorgeous raw silk I got at Christmas? I’m going to get another jacket with long sleeves made up. I bought the red at Christmas; tell her I’d like it in the green and I’ll fix her up when she comes home for the summer.’

  ‘Sure.’ Carrie made a mental note to say no such thing to Shauna. She too could conveniently forget things when she had to.

  Ashley wriggled off his chair and began to wander around. The café had begun to fill up with the lunchtime trade. Della ignored him as he weaved in and out between the tables pretending to be an aeroplane.

  ‘Maybe he should sit down,’ Carrie suggested grimly.

  ‘Oh, he’s got oodles of energy. I never know what to do with him. I should have left him in the crèche but it’s just got so expensive lately,’ Della complained.

  Ashley careered into Gina, who was carrying a bowl of soup to a table.

  ‘Della, you’d want to get him. Gina could have spilt the hot soup on him,’ Carrie exclaimed exasperatedly.

  ‘Ah he’s grand,’ Della said dismissively. ‘Now you have to go and spend a night camping in the desert. We did it and the stars were stunning. And you simply must go snorkelling. And you’ve got to try the Chinese restaurant in the Sheraton. We go there every time. It’s magnificent,’ she gushed, clearly relishing rubbing Carrie’s nose in it that she had been out to the Gulf so many times.

  ‘Excuse me.’ Gina arrived at their table with a firm hand round Ashley’s wrist. ‘This young man needs to sit down or he’s going to get hurt. I’ll get you a high chair for him.’ Her tone brooked no argument.

  ‘Be a good boy,’ Della said, annoyed. A minute later, Gina arrived with a high chair.

  ‘There you go,’ she said firmly. ‘Your meal will be ready in a few minutes.’

  ‘No, no. NO!’ screamed Ashley, kicking wildly as his mother dumped him in the high chair. He banged his fists on the plastic top and squealed and howled until everyone in the little café was looking in their direction. Carrie could feel a hot sweat rising as Della sat there ignoring the carry-on.

  ‘Stop that, Ashley,’ she said crossly, mortified.

  ‘Noooooo,’ the toddler yelled, and spat at her.

  Carrie’s hand itched. If one of hers had done that they would have been mighty sorry. Della simply threw her eyes up to heaven. She’s something else. No wonder the child is the way he is, Carrie thought furiously.

  Hannah studied him intently. ‘Bold, Mameee,’ she announced loudly. Ashley leaned across and pulled her hair. Hannah howled in pained dismay.

  ‘Della, sort him out,’ Carrie snapped, civility out the window. She lifted Hannah onto her lap as Gina arrived with their food.

  ‘Say sorry, Ashley,’ Della said irritably as Gina placed her seafood cocktail in front of her and a small dish of food in front of Ashley, who promptly threw a carrot at her.

  Another waitress had placed Carrie’s and Hannah’s meals in front of them and Carrie began to feed Hannah on her lap, determined to scarper as soon as she possibly could.

  ‘This is delicious,’ Della exclaimed as Ashley hurled bits of his food all over their table.

  ‘They do nice food here,’ Carrie remarked, wishing heartily that she was on her own with Hannah.

  ‘You know you really should go for the salad option, Carrie. Chips are laden with fats. Terribly bad for your cholesterol,’ Della lectured, forking some healthy lettuce into her big gob.

  Oh, shut up, Carrie longed to say but she didn’t have the energy to argue, so she merely nodded and pronged a chip with her fork. Once her daughter had finished her dinner, she shoved a few forkfuls of vol-au-vent into her mouth, her appetite non-existent thanks to her lunch companions.

  Della had been served her steak and was thoroughly enjoying it. Ashley was still whinging and misbehaving and all Carrie wanted was to get out as quickly as she could. She rooted in her bag for a tissue and wiped Hannah’s mouth. Then she pulled a ten and a five euro note out of her purse, which covered her and Hannah’s meals, with enough left over for a tip, and placed it in front of an astonished Della.

  ‘Here you go, Della, that takes care of our lunch. Sorry I can’t stay for coffee, but I’m on a very tight timescale. I’ll tell them all you were asking for them. Safe journey home,’ she said briskly, wrapping Hannah up warmly in her coat and hat.

  ‘Well, I’d have thought that you at least have time to finish your meal and have a cup of coffee.’ Della was clearly put out.

  ‘You should have let me know earlier that you intended to come down and I could have arranged something. But you know yourself what it’s like when you’re going away on holiday. Enjoy the rest of your meal. See you.’

  She took Hannah by the hand and hurried out of the restaurant, half afraid that Della and the brat would want to come shopping with her. She had rampant indigestion from eating too fast but at least she hadn’t been stung for the whole meal. Della was such a cool customer. Carrie knew that she’d expected her to pay for their lunch. Well, that would give her something to think about. She smiled as she lifted Hannah into her car seat. Shauna would have a good laugh when she heard that Carrie had succeeded in pulling a fast one on her sister-in-law.

  Della paid for her lunch with bad grace and bundled Ashley out the door of the café despite his protests. Her day had not gone as planned. Carrie had been brusque, rude almost, which was unusual for her. Lunch had not been relaxed. She’d been looking forward to her trip to Whiteshells Bay and being entertained by Carrie. But it hadn’t turned out like that.

  She could go for a walk on the beach with Ashley, she supposed, seeing as Kathryn was going to a friend’s house after school, but it wasn’t much fun going on her own. She did a lot of things on her own, she thought forlornly as she looked out at the glistening sea that whooshed gently backwards and forwards along the shore. It stru
ck her that she hadn’t what she would call ‘real friends’. She mostly had acquaintances whom she met through her work in the shop, or in her yoga class, or at the alternative medicine workshops that she attended. She wished she had a sister to share her life with. Carrie and Shauna were so lucky to have each other. It wasn’t the same with a brother. Greg wasn’t really interested, and if she was absolutely honest, neither was her husband. At heart Eddie Keegan was a lazy slob who was happy enough having his few pints and getting a ride every weekend. She’d married him so that she wouldn’t be left on the shelf and because there was no-one else on her horizon.

  Not that she’d admit that to a sinner, Della thought disconsolately as she took her son by the hand and walked down the stone steps that led to the beach. Pride and appearances were everything. She’d never let on to anyone that her life was less than perfect. That was one little secret that Madams Shauna and Carrie would never know. Snooty cows, always making her feel excluded, she thought angrily, trying to swallow the lump in her throat and banish the sudden loneliness that unexpectedly threatened to overwhelm her.

  Noel sat with Davey on one side and Olivia on the other and cut up a slice of roast beef. Carrie had cooked his favourite dinner for him: roast beef, roast potatoes, Yorkshire pudding and mushy peas. It always reminded him of Sunday lunch when Anna was alive. He’d been about to say that he would miss them but had stopped in time. After Dan’s little lecture he was being very careful about what he said to Carrie.

  ‘Guess what, Grandpa?’ Olivia whispered, ‘Mam made your favourite sweet. Rhubarb crumble and ice cream and cream.’

  Noel smiled at her and felt a wave of affection for his eldest granddaughter. She could never keep a secret from when she was a toddler. ‘That was very kind of her. And this is a lovely dinner.’ He smiled at his granddaughter. Olivia had a soft heart just like her mother, he realized, wondering why he was noticing these things for the first time. Was it because they were all going away and leaving him on his own that he was beginning to appreciate them a little more? he thought with a dart of guilt.

  It was a delicious meal but he wasn’t very hungry. He was dreading their going, but of course he couldn’t say so. He sighed deeply. When Carrie had come to the house with his dinner the day Dan had chastised him he’d apologized for upsetting her.

  ‘That’s OK, Dad. It’s only for two weeks. It will fly by,’ she’d said quietly.

  ‘I know it will and of course I really want you to enjoy yourself. You deserve it,’ he’d assured her.

  ‘Well, I’ll enjoy it better if I know that you’re not sitting here moping, waiting for us to come home,’ Carrie said, but her tone was kind and he knew that she didn’t mean it as a rebuke.

  ‘Actually, I’m going bowling with Mrs O’Neill. She’s roped me in to their bowling group. She said they needed more men,’ he told her sheepishly.

  ‘Dad, that’s great news.’ She’d been delighted for him. Noel hadn’t been as enthusiastic. He wasn’t sure if bowling would be his ‘thing’, as young people said. Mrs O’Neill had been at him for ages to join the club. It would give him some exercise instead of wearing his knees out praying, she’d said with a glint in her eye, and he’d had to laugh.

  To his surprise he’d enjoyed himself once he’d got used to making a fool of himself as he learned how to roll the ball properly. ‘It’s all in the flick of the wrist,’ his neighbour informed him as she knocked the skittles for six.

  He now went bowling two afternoons a week. It was enjoyable to be in the company of his peers. The conversations were interesting. Some of the men were widowers like him and he’d begun to realize from listening to their chat that he was extremely lucky the way Carrie and Dan took care of him and supported him. One rotund chap a little older than himself confided that he lived on tinned steak and kidney pie and Smash. His children rarely came to visit; and he’d spent Christmas alone. Noel felt so sorry for him that he’d invited him to accompany him to Malone’s for lunch one day when Carrie was away. The fellow ought to eat properly a couple of times a week at least, and Dan had said the food in Malone’s was good.

  At least he’d have his bowling and his lunch appointment to keep him occupied while he was on his own, he comforted himself, lost in thought.

  ‘Eat up there, Dad,’ Carrie urged, noticing that he hadn’t cleared his plate.

  ‘You gave me a lot,’ he protested.

  ‘That’s to keep you going until we get back, Grandpa,’ Davey teased. ‘You’ll be sure to feed my fish, won’t you?’

  ‘Indeed I will, Davey. Don’t worry your head about them. They’ll get the best of attention,’ his grandfather assured him. ‘Now take plenty of photos for me. I’ll be very interested to hear all about your holiday.’

  ‘I’m going to take loads, Grandpa. I’ve got three films. And we’re bringing the video as well so we’ll have a video and photo night when we come home,’ Davey said earnestly. ‘How is your bowling league going?’

  ‘Well, would you believe, we were playing St Mel’s on Tuesday and I managed to win a few points for the team and we won,’ Noel said proudly.

  ‘Deadly, Grandpa,’ Davey enthused, much to his grandfather’s delight. His grandson was a great little chap, he thought with uncharacteristic pride.

  Dan arrived home just as Carrie was clearing away the dinner plates, and took his place at the table. ‘Sorry I’m late. Did you enjoy your special dinner, Mr Mac?’ he asked cheerfully.

  One thing about his son-in-law, he didn’t hold things against you, Noel reflected. Dan had treated him just as he normally did since their recent early-morning conversation. ‘It was very tasty and much appreciated. And now I’d like to show my appreciation,’ he said, clearing his throat awkwardly. He reached into his jacket pocket and took out four envelopes, one marked ‘Carrie and Dan’ and the other three each with one of the children’s names on it. He handed them round. ‘Open them,’ he urged.

  ‘Oh my God, Grandpa!’ Olivia exclaimed dramatically, as five notes fluttered out of her envelope. ‘That’s five tens in paper money. I’m really rich.’ She had recently made the discovery that paper money was much better than coins.

  ‘Oh, Dad!’ Carrie exclaimed as she opened theirs and saw four fifty euro notes. ‘That’s far too much.’

  ‘Mam, look. I got the same as Olivia.’ Davey waved his around exuberantly. Such riches. He couldn’t wait for his holidays. His other grandparents had given him cash as well and he’d been saving hard. He was the richest boy in his class at the moment. Even Willie O’Shea whose dad was a doctor, and who was usually loaded with money, hadn’t as much as Davey had right now.

  ‘Dad, really,’ Carrie protested. ‘There’s no need to—’

  Noel held up his hand. ‘Stop. Carrie, this is going to be the holiday of a lifetime for you, Dan and the children and I’d like to make my contribution towards it.’ He cleared his throat again. ‘I’d like to take this opportunity to say how much I appreciate . . . umm . . . how much I appreciate all your . . . er . . . love and kindness.’ He flushed a deep beetroot red, unused to such speeches.

  ‘Oh, Dad.’ Carrie had tears in her eyes. ‘We’re glad to have you with us.’

  ‘You’re part of our family, Mr Mac.’ Dan patted him kindly on the shoulder.

  ‘You’re our Grandpa,’ Davey said stoutly, hugging his grandfather. Noel hugged him back awkwardly. He had a strange feeling in his heart. An emotion he wasn’t used to. He felt he could almost cry, he thought in panic. Hannah toddled over to him and gave him one of her dollies.

  ‘Thank you, pet,’ he managed, glad when they all laughed and the tension was broken.

  ‘We’ve another surprise for you,’ Olivia said smugly. ‘Haven’t we, Mam?’

  ‘We sure have,’ Carrie agreed. She went over to one of her cupboards and took out a plate on which reposed a large iced chocolate cake, decorated with Smarties and a small almond paste nest with little sweet eggs in it. ‘It’s your Easter cake,’ she said brigh
tly and he instantly realized that she still felt guilty about going away on holiday. And the only reason she felt guilty was because he’d made her feel it with his martyr act, he acknowledged, in a rare moment of self-awareness. Carrie didn’t deserve that, he admitted, feeling a sudden surge of shame.

  ‘Oh my goodness, I can’t possibly wait until Easter Sunday to eat this, and I’ll certainly need some help,’ he exclaimed, hastily brushing away his very uncomfortable feelings. His grandchildren reacted with delight.

  ‘Yippee!’ yelled Davey who adored chocolate cake.

  ‘I just knew you’d say that, Grandpa,’ Olivia assured him. ‘Can I have a piece of the nest?’

  ‘Well, just a small bit, now,’ warned Carrie. ‘Don’t forget we’re going very early in the morning and we don’t want any sore tummies.’

  ‘Just a small slice each then, Carrie,’ Noel urged, winking at Davey and wishing that he didn’t feel so ashamed. It was a feeling he wasn’t used to. It was most uncomfortable.

  ‘I think we should put a candle on it and sing “For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow” to Grandpa,’ Olivia suggested, always ready for a bit of theatre.

  ‘Terrific idea,’ Dan agreed. ‘Candle please, wife.’

  ‘Certainly, husband.’ She smiled, loving him for the way he always did his best to make Noel feel cherished and welcome. She placed the candle in the centre of the cake and lit it and they all sang loudly and lustily, much to Noel’s embarrassment.

  After they’d had a cup of tea and a slice of the scrumptious cake, Noel reluctantly stood up and put his coat on. ‘I should be off. You’ve things to do and you need to get to bed early. Will you give this envelope to Chloe for me and wish her a happy Easter? And I got a little bottle of perfume for Shauna. I hope she likes it. I asked Mrs O’Neill’s advice.’ He handed Carrie another envelope and a small package.

 

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