The Beach at Doonshean

by Penny Feeny

  ‘Right. I see.’ She wanted to say: Don’t be hasty, Bel; but what was the point? That was precisely Bel’s character. She didn’t weigh things up at length like her brother. Anyway the guy wasn’t one of her usual lame-duck misfits. He looked a promising choice. Competent. Reliable. He was coming towards them armed with a spray can and an adjustable spanner. It barely took him five minutes to detach the stabilisers from the rear bicycle wheel and line them up at the foot of the steps.

  ‘Well done, mate,’ said Matt.

  ‘Come on now, Danny boy,’ said Bel. ‘You have to give us a demonstration.’

  The street was quiet. It had a sleepy bank holiday torpor. Fair-weather gardeners were planting out marigolds, clipping their hedges or strimming their patches of grass. Traffic was minimal. Only two other cars had passed by since Kieran’s. Even so Rachael was nervous. She wanted to protest that perhaps it was too soon, perhaps he wasn’t quite ready after all, but she was clearly outnumbered.

  She clasped her hands tightly in front of her and could only peep sideways through her lashes as Danny set off. Matt jogged alongside him. The bike wobbled at first and she was convinced he would overbalance. She nearly reached out to clutch at Bel, but Bel had moved within the shelter of Kieran’s arm so Rachael was on her own. What would Dan do if a car suddenly backed out of a drive, or a football shot across the road? But as the bike gathered speed his balance grew more assured. He was gripping the handlebars as if he would never let go, but he was managing to ride in a straight line – at least until he turned the corner and disappeared from sight.

  ‘Hey, Rach,’ said Bel. ‘I bet you’re proud of him. God, I can’t tell you how many times I fell off my bike when I was learning. Down this very street in fact. Imagine!’

  A fraught ninety seconds later Dan came back up the road, pedalling fiercely, expressions of triumph and terror jostling on his face.

  ‘Oh my God,’ said Rachael as he sailed past them. ‘I hope he can stop. Suppose he can’t brake without falling off?’

  ‘He’ll be fine,’ said Bel. ‘Matt’s keeping pace anyway.’

  Father and son disappeared on another circuit of the immediate neighbourhood: Matt red-faced, wiping the sweat from his hairline, Danny becoming more relaxed with each lap completed. Finally he shot into the driveway – Kieran grabbed the handlebars and steadied the frame – and Rachael was able to relax.

  She flooded him with extravagant praise, but as she picked up the bike to help him bring it into the house, she thought she glimpsed the boy, Nathan, with his odd lurching gait. Had he been watching and waiting to intercept Danny when no one was around? He’d probably be envious, even though the bike was far too small for him. But the figure was distant still so she told herself she’d made a mistake.

  35

  The Homecoming

  Julia parked outside her former home in the spot vacated by Kieran; Bel let her in. She didn’t need to ask how her journey had gone. Bel, glowing for the first time since her illness, was full of it – especially the little house in Dun Laoghaire.

  ‘Cousin Ned?’ said Julia. ‘Good Lord! He sounds like someone in a Victorian novel.’

  ‘Oh but he’s a real person. Quite high-powered I think. I’m sorry I didn’t meet him. We stayed up in his attic because the rest of the place was such a tip. If you lifted the skylight and poked your head out you could see the harbour and the masts of all the yachts. Ace.’

  ‘Sweetheart, we spent the past week by the sea! Dingle’s full of boats.’

  Bel nodded. ‘Yeah, absolutely… But he’s a dark horse, Kieran. I didn’t feel I got to know him till we travelled alone together. He went out of his way to bring me home. You only just missed him, but he had to get back.’

  Julia recalled the tulips she’d left on the table at Dolphin Cottage, their petals forming perfect cups, vibrant with life and delicate colour.

  ‘And you should know, Mum, that I’ve decided to go too. I’ve been here long enough. I’ve agreed to get the train to London tomorrow with Dad. See how dutiful I am?’

  ‘Are you sure you feel up to it?’

  ‘Oh yes, honestly. Terrific!’

  Julia was used to Bel’s enthusiasms, to her spurts of passion, her complete enthralment to her newest idea or latest romance. She itched to warn her at each headlong turn that she should prepare herself for pain and disappointment. But it had been something far more arbitrary and unforeseen that had sabotaged her, so she wasn’t going to deflate her hopes now – even if they did rest on a Farrelly.

  Besides, Bel wasn’t the only person to have a different aura about her. While they talked in the sitting room, Rachael was gliding about with new poise, offering them tea and slices of red velvet cake. She used to undermine her stately presence with submerged tension like an oversensitive racehorse; not any more. There was a fullness to her face too, which Julia didn’t comment on, although she suspected she knew the cause.

  ‘Matt will be down in a minute,’ Rachael was saying. ‘He has to finish the game he and Dan are playing on the Wii. Danny’s full of himself today because he’s learned to ride his bike. He’ll probably want to show you after supper. You are going to stay and eat with us, aren’t you? I’ve no idea when Leo’s coming back but there’s plenty of food and if it’s not a problem for you…’ She broke off.

  Julia said, ‘No problem. There are things we need to sort out and I’m sure we can be civilised.’

  Rachael said, ‘I don’t fucking believe it.’ She had crossed to the bay window that overlooked the front drive. She leant her forehead against the pane, her shoulders slumped and the back of her neck, exposed by her upswept hair, looked frail and vulnerable.

  ‘Whatever is it?’ said Julia.

  ‘Matt said he’d seen them off. He promised.’

  Bel leapt up. ‘Who?’

  ‘I feel like they’re stalking me. Wherever I look, there they are, casting an evil eye or something.’

  ‘That’s just bullshit, Rach,’ said Bel.

  Julia went to join them in the bay. She could see a boy and girl on the opposite side of the road. The girl was chewing gum, texting on her phone, bending to fiddle with her shoes, cuffing the boy when he spun around and knocked into her. She had put some thought into her outfit. It didn’t flatter her, but it showed that she followed celebrity style – short, tight and glitzy. The boy’s T-shirt was far too big for him and he was rocking from one foot to another in a manner that seemed familiar. Julia tried to focus on his features, though they were not close enough to see clearly. ‘Who are they?’ she said.

  ‘He’s the kid who nearly burned us alive.’

  ‘Whoa…’ said Bel. ‘That’s a bit extreme. Plus you told me it was a good thing. You’re going to get a new kitchen out of it.’

  ‘A new kitchen?’ said Julia.

  ‘Well, it’s just, with all the cooking I do…’

  ‘Heavens, Rachael, I’m not offended! I’ve been remodelling yours after all.’ It had been a delight to walk into the flat last night and find a clean uncluttered space with polished flooring, shining tiles and a smell of new paint: a pleasure worth waiting for. ‘Leo may be a professional painter but he was a pretty amateur carpenter. That old kitchen needs ripping out. I should never have let him loose on it.’ She ran her finger along the windowsill. ‘He started the fire, did you say?’

  ‘Not Leo, Mum. Nathan.’

  ‘Nathan Carter! Of course.’

  ‘Do you know him?’

  Julia had avoided thinking about work since the day she left, paperwork complete, handover smoothly effected. She’d concentrated on moving house, on initiating the changes she’d planned. And from the moment she’d begun her holiday – the innocuous trip to France that had turned into something quite different – she hadn’t wasted a single second wondering what had become of her patients. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I do.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘I remember him quite well. He was referred to me by the school because he was so disru
ptive. I wrote the report a while ago. There’s a whole dossier on him somewhere. It needs to be pulled into a statement.’

  ‘I don’t think he goes to school at the moment,’ said Rachael. ‘They’re in temporary accommodation because their own house—’

  ‘Burned down!’ said Bel triumphantly. ‘He’s a pyromaniac!’

  ‘He’s on the autistic spectrum,’ said Julia. ‘Relatively high-functioning, but still with a significant impairment. There are parents who try to claim their kids have a disorder when in practice they just lack boundaries, but Nathan isn’t like that. He genuinely can’t help himself.’

  ‘Oh my God! And Danny thought he was so wonderful.’

  ‘He was probably thrilled that someone older would allow him to tag along. They wouldn’t have actually played with each other. A boy like Nathan doesn’t share.’

  ‘He’d ignore me totally,’ said Rachael. ‘Like, whatever I said was completely unimportant. Almost as if I wasn’t there.’

  ‘He wasn’t being disobedient on purpose. He has problems processing information, understanding cause and effect.’

  ‘Even so.’ Rachael was defensive. ‘You do see why we can’t let them in? He’s done enough damage and we don’t know what he might get up to next.’

  ‘What he needs is proper intervention and someone to look after his interests. His sister shouldn’t be minding him; it’s too much to expect.’

  ‘So how…?’

  This is nothing to do with me, thought Julia. I don’t have to conduct any more investigations and write them up. I don’t have to nag social workers and psychologists. I don’t have to fill in any more tedious forms. I am retired. I can do what I choose.

  Across the road Nathan had unfurled a yo-yo. He’d looped it around his middle finger and was letting it drop and rise with sustained dexterity. His sister was gabbling into her phone. Nevertheless, the pair of them looked utterly forlorn.

  ‘I’ll chase it up tomorrow,’ Julia said. ‘What’s happening to the case, I mean. It’s hard to believe no one’s taken any action. I thought they were going to transfer him to a pupil referral unit. And he should be getting one-to-one support. There was a question mark over his hyperactivity too. I did prescribe some medication, but I don’t know whether he took it. It was only temporary anyway, till we sorted out the cause. I had a bit of difficulty pinpointing his diagnosis because there’d been some trauma in the family, which could have clouded the issue. I’ve forgotten what…’

  ‘Their mother died,’ said Bel. ‘Overdosed. She was schizophrenic or bipolar or something. I never know whether to believe Kelly – she comes out with such outrageous stuff. They are living with the grandmother though, so it’s probably true.’

  ‘People slip through the net all the time. And I expect the school was glad to be rid of him. It isn’t the kid’s fault, but that family have been through hell.’ She sighed, but there was an element of relish in it. ‘I’m not going to make a habit of nagging my successor, but I’ll check tomorrow what the social worker’s doing and why my report’s been shelved. We can’t have you being harassed, Rachael, especially not now.’

  Kelly finished her call and pulled at Nathan’s sleeve, which made him lose his rhythm. The yo-yo flew about on the end of its string like a stunned blackbird. She stuffed the phone in her pocket and shouted at him. The three women watching at the window couldn’t hear the words, but the tone of impatience was clear enough. Nathan kicked the garden wall; he kicked a stone into the gutter; he wheeled the yo-yo around his head like a lasso and made whooping cries. As a taxi grumbled slowly down the street he shouted at that, too, and then, finally, chased after his sister.

  Rachael was staring at Julia in astonishment. ‘Did Matt tell you?’

  ‘Tell you what?’ said Bel.

  ‘Remember, I haven’t seen you for nearly a month,’ Julia said. ‘And I’m attuned to these things, so I’m more likely to notice the difference in you.’

  ‘What difference?’ said Bel.

  Nathan and Kelly were out of sight, but the taxi had stopped in front of the gateposts. Leo got out and trustingly handed over his wallet. The cab driver took his fare and handed it back. Leo, coming up the path, waved cheerily at the faces in the window.

  ‘Damn,’ said Julia. ‘He thinks we’ve been waiting for him. I’m going to go and see what Danny’s up to. I have missed him, you know.’ She withdrew and started up the stairs as Rachael went to open the door.

  She hadn’t seen her grandson for a month either and at his age children changed so rapidly. Dan had the same earnest brown eyes as Matt, and William before him, and she loved the serious way he would confide in her. It was a knack worth having, she believed: persuading your listener that nothing and nobody was as important as this moment you shared. Especially when the information came with such child-like certainty.

  From the landing she could hear the greetings and exclamations below – most of the excitement coming from Bel. She peeped into the room full of Lego and train sets and pirate ships and inter-galactic adventurers, but Dan wasn’t there. Nor was the Wii. He and Matt must be playing on it somewhere else. She climbed another flight of stairs to check the attic, calling his name aloud, but those rooms were empty too. She opened a window to let in the scents of the garden. She had a fine view of the spreading pear tree, the last of its snowy blossom falling.

  As she stood in contemplation, the floor creaked and another person entered the room. Matt, she presumed, sent to fetch her, but before she could turn, Leo said, ‘Hello, Julia.’

  ‘Leo!’

  He never looked any different. His hair was still abundant, if greying, his frame still rangy; he was wearing jeans and one of those soft cotton chambray shirts that he favoured – but at each encounter he was a little more rumpled than the last (and she’d wanted to take an iron to him from the beginning). Today he came with the addition of white gauze bandages. He was holding up his arms as if for inspection.

  You mustn’t think I can fix everything, she used to say to Matt and Bel when, as children, they’d had such faith in her ability to mend broken toys or treat cuts and grazes. She would do her best, but she would never make false promises. Things did not always turn out fine in the end.

  ‘So,’ she said to Leo. ‘How bad was it? Have they told you? Is there any damage to nerve endings?’

  He let his arms fall to his sides. ‘They think not.’

  ‘You’ll be able to paint again?’

  ‘Try and stop me. They say there’ll be superficial scarring, but I don’t care about the scars.’ She could believe this. He had a fine specimen at his temple, mostly hidden by hair, from an incident before they had met. He wasn’t vain. ‘The pain can be a bit grisly, especially at night, but I’m moving my fingers now. Which is a good thing, isn’t it?’

  ‘It sounds as though you’ll be all right. But it could take a while and the skin will be thin for ages so you’ll have to be very careful which is not—’

  ‘In my nature. Yes, I know.’

  ‘Why on earth did you do it? Rushing into a burning building! I mean, you must have known…’

  ‘Because I thought I had a chance. The flames weren’t too bad initially. It was when Matt opened the doors – not that I’m blaming him. He didn’t want the petrol tank to explode. But what would anyone else in my position do? Christ knows, I’m not overprotective. I don’t follow the life of every painting I’ve ever produced, checking auction catalogues obsessively like some people do. But I couldn’t stand aside. It was deflating enough to find you’d bundled them into the garage in the first place.’

  ‘I don’t want another argument,’ said Julia.

  ‘I’m not arguing.’

  ‘Anyway it wasn’t me who put them there. I’d left them on the walls. There wasn’t any point in my rehanging them until the decorating was finished, but I wasn’t abandoning them. I may not want to live with you any more, Leo, but I still believe in your work.’

  ‘You do?’
r />   ‘Yes.’

  When this room had been his studio it had been ablaze with colour, the floor thick with hardened spills of acrylic. He’d also kept a huge sofa to sprawl on because he was one of those lucky people who could catnap and wake refreshed. Sometimes in the evening, when the children were sleeping in their beds below, Julia and Leo would make passionate love on it. The rampant chaos of the studio gave them a sense of escaping from domesticity and humdrum family life.

  His affair had tarnished those memories, so the first thing she’d done after their separation was sand the floorboards and repaint the walls. She’d thrown out the old sagging sofa and replaced it with a spare bed – which Rachael had dressed with white linen. Now, apart from a scatter of Bel’s possessions, the ambience was almost monastic.

  He took a step towards her. ‘You ran out on me,’ he said.

  As if she’d been a teenager having a tiff with a boyfriend. ‘For goodness’ sake! Okay, I’m sorry I flew off the handle. Blame Dorothy. She hadn’t given me any warning that you’d be there.’

  ‘So I come with a warning now do I?’

  ‘You always did, Leo.’ He was looking so shaggy and sorry for himself, she had to bite her lip to stop a bubble of laughter escaping – though really there was nothing funny about his situation. ‘Look, I know it wasn’t your fault Bel hadn’t got herself to a doctor earlier. I just got an awful fright because malaria’s such a killer and that’s why, I suppose, I took it out on you. I’m sorry about that.’ My God, she thought. My second apology in twenty-four hours. I am eating humble pie. ‘But why did you keep badgering me when I was in Ireland?’

  ‘I wanted to know when you were coming back.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because of the house.’

  ‘This house, you mean? It’s no use to me. The kids are welcome to it.’

  ‘If you remember,’ he said quietly, ‘I got the impression you’d given it to Matt and Rachael, deliberately excluding Bel – which in any view was grossly unfair – and I wanted to sort it out with you.’