She looked at her watch. ‘Have we really been sitting here all this time?’
‘I’ve hardly noticed.’ He glanced around to where Nico was waiting patiently at the end of the room. ‘I guess I’d better pay the bill, so.’
Outside, they huddled in the doorway as rain washed the pavements.
‘Would you like me to call a cab, sir?’ Nico asked, holding the restaurant door open.
Dermot glanced towards Aileen, and she gave him a knowing look. ‘You’ve had quite a lot to drink.’
‘What about the van?’
‘It’ll be fine where it is,’ Nico said. ‘As long as you pick it up in the morning.’
They didn’t have to wait long. They sat in the back of the cab, where Aileen shook out her wet hair. ‘Are you working tomorrow morning, Dermot?’
‘I’m afraid so. But I’m free in the afternoon if you want to do something?’
‘I’m going to see Uncle Paddy and Aunt Bead. Why don’t you pick me up from there, and we can do something then?’ She touched his hand. ‘Thanks for a lovely evening, Dermot. I’ve missed you so much.’
‘Not nearly as much as I missed you.’ He pulled her into his arms. His kiss was full of passion, the end to a perfect evening. She couldn’t spoil it by talking about Roy Pickering.
All too soon they were on Camden Street, and Dermot stepped from the taxi and asked the driver to wait. The rain was still pelting down, and they ducked into the doorway of the sweet shop. Giggling, Aileen fumbled for her key. When Dermot kissed her goodnight, she didn’t want him to leave, but the taxi meter was ticking and he had to go. She watched him throw her a kiss from the taxi window as it sped away.
Chapter Fifty
Dermot had fancied Aileen from the first moment he had spotted her walking past the butcher’s shop, and he had never been able to get her out of his mind. Her angelic face needed no enhancement, and he loved her long, shiny blonde hair. He had thought her above him because she went to college and was studying a secretarial course; he, the son of a butcher, was happy and content with his lot. When she’d given up her studies to care for her sick mother, he had made every excuse under the sun to call in at the haberdashery. And he couldn’t believe his luck when she had agreed to go out with him.
After she had left for England, he’d been lonely but he couldn’t really blame her. If he’d been in her shoes, he would probably have done the same. But she was back now, her da had thankfully come to his senses, and they were on the verge of finding her brother; Dermot couldn’t be happier for her.
At Christmas, he had thought her distracted. He had been sure she had found someone else but, fearful of the truth, he’d held back from asking. Now he realised how wrong he had been.
Once her brother was back in her life, he planned to ask her to marry him; perhaps get engaged. He had already saved a substantial amount towards a house. He sighed, reining himself in. He mustn’t get ahead of himself. It was enough for now that she was home.
* * *
When Dermot entered the kitchen, he was surprised to find his mother still up, the ironing board out. She was steaming his dad’s best trousers, a cup of hot cocoa on the table. ‘I’m glad you’re back, son, only I didn’t hear the van.’
‘I left it in the city. It’s quite safe. I’ll pick it up in the morning. What’s wrong?
Couldn’t you sleep?’
‘Your dad and I are taking the early morning ferry to Wales. Meredith is having a family service for her granddaughter, and we feel we ought to be there to support her. I spoke to her earlier, and they are struggling to come to terms with it all.’
Dermot sat down and rubbed his broad hand over his face. ‘How long will you be away for?’
‘Just the weekend; we’ll be back Monday. Can you manage the shop until then? The orders are all done and in the fridge for tomorrow.’
‘Don’t worry. I dare say I can manage with the lad for one morning. Now you get yourself off to bed, Mam. What time do you have to leave?’
‘Don’t worry, your dad has booked a taxi. You just concentrate on the shop until we get back.’
* * *
Early the next morning, Dermot walked across town to retrieve his van. He found his vehicle where he had parked it overnight, close to Nico’s; he was relieved not to have incurred a parking fine.
Before he opened the shop, he made a quick phone call to Aileen and confirmed that he would see her later at her aunt’s house. The butcher’s was always busiest on Saturdays, so he had little time to think about Aileen, but he whistled while he worked, and chatted with the regulars.
He closed the shop at midday, then had a bath and scrubbed his nails. One of the things he disliked about being a butcher was that it took him ages to get rid of the blood which became ingrained in the crevices of his fingers and underneath his nails. He knew some men had manicures, but that wasn’t him. Instead, he clipped his nails short and, after a good scrub, they looked normal again.
When he was ready, he dabbed a splash of aftershave on his face. His newly-washed hair smelled fresh and clean, but it continued to stick up at the back. It was only then that he realised he had run out of hair cream. He dressed casually in beige cords, check shirt, and his dark, three-quarter length coat, felt his pockets for his wallet and left the house.
The strong, overnight wind had died down, and he hoped his parents’ crossing hadn’t been too arduous. He glanced at his watch. They would be on their way to Merthyr Vale by now. He sighed when he thought of what had happened there. The Welsh people were a resilient race, including his aunt’s family, but he had to wonder how they would ever come back from this.
It was cold and the sky was cloudy; it looked like rain. He drove across town towards Aileen’s aunt’s. When he arrived, he rubbed his hands together and smoothed down the back of his hair.
Bead opened the door. ‘Come along inside.’
As he walked through the hall into the front room, he asked, ‘Is Aileen about?’
‘I’m sorry, Dermot, but she’s not here. Her da called, and she had to dash off.’ Bead sighed. ‘Please, sit down, I’ll get you a hot drink.’
Dermot, unable to hide his disappointment, lowered himself onto the sofa. ‘Don’t bother with the drink thanks, Bead. Did she say what it was about?’
‘No, her da appeared to be in a hurry and just said it was to do with his son. Oh, I almost forgot, Aileen scribbled a note for you.’ She handed him a sealed envelope that had been propped up against the mantle clock. ‘She said not to phone you as you’d have already left.’
Dermot scanned the note then, glancing up, he smiled. ‘Just says she’ll meet in Clery’s tea room, and if she’s not there by three not to hang about and she’ll ring me later.’ He stood up. ‘I’ve a few things to do in town. Give my best to Paddy. Working today, is he?’
‘No. He’s down the bookies. Convinced he’s onto a winner.’ She laughed as she walked Dermot to the door.
On the drive back to the city, he felt curious to know what Aileen’s da had discovered about his son. He hoped it was good news; he was eager that Aileen should be reconciled with her twin as soon as possible.
His plan to take Aileen to see The Sound of Music at the Carlton had fallen flat, and he was keen to have time alone with her. He had something to ask her, and if he didn’t do it soon, he might just lose his nerve. He picked up a few slices of cooked ham and a white, sliced pan loaf, along with a slab of fruit cake. He planned on making her tea. How hard can it be? he thought, as he began to prepare the sandwiches. He cut them dainty, the way his mam did when she had someone special coming to tea.
They were not as good as his mother’s, but they looked all right, so he covered them and put them on the kitchen top for later. Then he switched the wireless on to listen to the match and closed his eyes.
* * *
He woke with a start and couldn’t believe it was two-thirty already. He freshened up, grabbed his coat and scarf, checked his wallet and keys,
and hurried from the shop. He ran all the way, weaving through the crowds of Saturday shoppers and mothers with pushchairs and crying babies, to arrive with seconds to spare. There was no sign of Aileen.
He drew out a long breath, glad she hadn’t arrived before him; she might think he didn’t care enough to be on time. He sat facing the entrance to the tearoom so that he could watch her arrive—desperate to see her elegant walk in high heels, her bag swinging from her shoulder, and her lovely hair falling across her face. He ordered tea while he waited.
It was only when the waitress asked if there was anything else she could get him that he realised how long he had sat there. It was four-thirty, and the evening was closing in.
He gave up and left the department store. Things had obviously taken longer than expected, but he didn’t want to go back home alone. Two of the day’s plans had fallen flat, but there was still the evening. He decided to catch a bus across town to the sweet shop. When he arrived, it was all in darkness. They obviously weren’t back yet.
Disappointed, he decided to walk home and wait for her to phone him. What if she got back too late? With all his plans ruined, he stopped at the first cinema he came to and went inside.
Chapter Fifty-One
Aileen and her da stood by the river wall overlooking the Griffeen, in the small town of Lucan. The car was parked close by, alongside a row of elm trees. People were going in and out of shops on Main Street, and three lads sitting on the wall opposite the local pub whistled at Aileen. They were harmless, but she wasn’t in the mood for their teenage banter. Her da appeared not to have heard them. He wasn’t listening to anything she was saying either; he just stared into the fast flowing river.
The cold began to penetrate her coat, and a blustery wind swept through the bare branches and swirled around her feet. Shivering, she dug her hands deep inside her pockets. ‘Come on, Da?’ she repeated.
Finally, he straightened his shoulders and turned towards her. ‘We shouldn’t have come. This whole business was a mistake.’
‘Of course we should have come. We’re family.’
‘He doesn’t know us from Adam, Aileen. So, if we do as you suggest, we will be putting him at a disadvantage.’ He sighed. ‘Don’t you see? I doubt he’d want to see us in his vulnerable state.’ In her eagerness, she hadn’t thought of that.
‘Please, Da. We should try.’
He walked towards the car and Aileen hurried alongside him, past the local lads who appeared to be waiting for the public house to open.
‘How will you feel when we’re turned away? Aye, tell me that.’ He unlocked the car, and they got inside. Aileen rubbed her hands to try and get some warmth back into them. She had thought her da was going to stand by the wall all afternoon; he could be difficult when he was worried. She was just as anxious and somehow she had to convince him that going to the hospital was the right thing to do, even if they were turned away.
He started the engine, and she placed her hand on his arm. ‘We can’t give up now. At least, let’s find out how he is?’
Her da sighed and pressed his back against the seat. ‘And you think they’re going to tell complete strangers that, do you?’
‘You’re his da, and I’m his twin sister; who else has he got?’ She couldn’t help the anger creeping into her voice.
‘We’ve no proof, and I can’t bear the thought of being turned away. I’d much rather we met him on his terms. Can you understand?’
She nodded. ‘In the meantime, what if something happens to him?' She didn’t want to give up and was getting frustrated with her da. Yet, she didn’t want to fall out with him. ‘Look, Da. Let’s have something hot to drink at the tearoom. You’re cold and…’
He nodded, and before she had time to finish, he stepped from the car. It was a busy little town and the tearoom was almost full. When they were seated with a strong cup of tea inside them, she hoped he would reconsider what she thought was a negative view, and take her to visit her brother.
When Tom hadn’t been in touch, her da had suggested that they visit his place of work. They had arrived at the Royal Bank of Ireland earlier, but found it closed. Out of curiosity, they walked down the entrance to the flat and got no reply. A neighbour looked out from next door. ‘If you’re looking for Mr Miller, he’s not in.’
‘Miller.’ Her father’s brow wrinkled. ‘Do you know when he’ll be back?’
‘That’s anyone’s guess. They took him away last night by ambulance.’
‘Do you know what happened?’ Aileen bit her lip. ‘Is he ill?’
The neighbour shrugged. ‘That’s all I know.’ She shook her head. ‘Although, he didn’t look all that grand when they carried him out.’ Aileen’s heart lurched.
‘Where have they taken him?’ her da asked.
‘I’m not sure. It might be Steeven’s.’
Aileen glanced at her da then, asked the woman, ‘Do you know where that is?’
The woman shrugged. ‘I’m not sure I should say.’ She came out to the entrance, her arms folded across her chest. ‘Who shall I say called?’
Aileen’s da cleared his throat and turned to go.
‘Oh, please yourselves.’
‘Thank you,’ Aileen called over her shoulder.
‘Nosey neighbours, I can’t abide them.’ Her father walked across the street to the wall that overlooked the river and Aileen followed. His shoulders hunched, he leaned his arms across the wall, staring down at the fast flowing stream, looking at nothing in particular. Discovering that Tom was ill and in hospital had been a shock to them both. He may well have suffered ill health from his time at the orphanage. They knew nothing of what he may have gone through. All the more reason, to take this opportunity to find out.
* * *
They had almost finished the tea and cake before her da spoke. ‘He hasn’t kept the family name, Aileen.’
‘Well, sure, he doesn’t know who he is, does he?’
‘Course, he bloody does!’ he yelled.
‘Da!’ Aileen glanced around, embarrassed.
‘I’m sorry.’ He ran his fingertips along his forehead. ‘He knows who his mother was. Didn’t Miss Finch tell us so?’
‘He was only a child then. We don’t know anything about his life really.’ Aileen leant across the small circular table and touched his arm. ‘Please, Da.’ She sighed. ‘Let me find out where this Steeven’s Hospital is. It sounds familiar.’
She left a shilling tip on the table and joined the queue at the counter. When her turn came, the portly woman serving the tea smiled. ‘Another tea, love?’
‘Actually, I wondered, can you tell me where to find Steeven’s Hospital?’
‘Do you mean, Dr Steeven’s?’
Aileen shrugged. ‘I guess so.’
‘Well sure, that’s away in Dublin, about seven or eight miles from here.’
Of course, now she remembered. ‘Thank you.’ She smiled towards the woman.
Her father joined her. ‘If it’s Dr Steeven’s, I know where that is, Aileen. It just didn’t register when the woman mentioned Steeven’s.’
‘Of course, it’s that big building next to Euston Station.’
He nodded.
‘Come on, Da. We can be back in Dublin in half an hour. We have every right to know how he is; we’re not giving up that easy.’
The drive back to Dublin took longer, as they hit the teatime traffic. Aileen’s da spoke little and only briefly answered her when she spoke.
‘You do want to visit him, don’t you, Da?’
He took a while to answer. ‘I need more time to think this over, Aileen.’ He turned right from Parkgate Street, and Aileen could see the hospital. But her da drove past and along the quay towards the city.
Aileen was furious but kept quiet. Her da was struggling with this and putting off the inevitable, and she had no choice but to go along with him. When he pulled up outside the shop, she turned towards him, unable to hold back her disappointment.
‘W
hy didn’t you want to go and see him, Da?’
He rubbed his hands over his face. ‘You’ve always been headstrong, Aileen. Believe me, I’m right about this. We can’t go barging in there without giving the poor lad some warning.’ He sighed. ‘I think we should give him time to recover and let him get in touch.’
‘But, Da!’
‘Will you stop going on?’ He turned and stepped from the car, but Aileen couldn’t help her feelings of disappointment. It started to rain as they went indoors.
‘We don’t know how ill he is, Da. It might be serious.’
He unbuttoned his coat and hung it up in the corridor before turning back to her. Tears pooled her eyes.
‘Look,’ he said, more gently. ‘If it will keep you from fretting, I’ll give the hospital a ring. Pass me the Dublin directory.’
He went behind the shop counter and dialled the number. He took a deep breath and straightened his shoulders before speaking. ‘I’m making enquiries about a patient, Mr Miller.’
He glanced down at Aileen perched on the shop stool, her eyes round in anticipation. ‘I believe he was brought in some time last night. Can you tell me how he is?’ He shook his head. ‘No. I’m not a relative. I’m his father. Although… What I mean is. I’ve never met my son.’ He tapped his fingers on the counter. ‘No, not Miller, my name is Maguire.’
He nodded towards Aileen and placed his hand over the receiver. ‘This is rather awkward.’
‘What have they said?’
‘Nothing yet.’ He shook his head. ‘They’ve put me on hold.’
Aileen felt the tension in her back watching her da. His face creased into a frown. ‘Hospital policy! Never mind all that. Can’t you make an exception? I want to know how…’
When her da let out a loud sigh, Aileen’s stomach tightened. ‘Can’t you at least tell me what ails my son and if he’s in any danger?’ There was a slight pause. ‘Comfortable! What does that mean?’
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