The office doors swung shut, leaving Mr Black still standing facing the city alone, looking for all the world like a ruler surveying his kingdom.
***
Maggie showed no inclination to bring up the incident from this morning, and Danny was glad of that. They had bustled around doing various domestic little things since both arriving back from work. It was just after six, and he was waiting at the front door.
“What do you think?” she said, descending the stairs and indicating her outfit, a fitted purple dress modestly cut at the knee.
It’s not your colour.
He caught himself before the words came out. “It’s lovely,” he said instead, as they locked the front door and made for the car. “You do know we’re only going to their house don’t you though? I just hope it launders baby-drool.”
Opening the driver’s door, he was surprised when she stepped across him. “I’ll drive,” she offered. “I’m sure Steve is hoping you’ll have a few beers with him tonight. Catch up.”
She was right, although with how busy work was at the minute it would only be a few, what with the go-live tomorrow. Go-live day was shaping up to be a whirlwind of press conferences and television spots, and Mr Black had already indicated he wanted Danny to come along with him.
The journey passed pleasantly enough; she had some irritating customer or other in work who wasn’t quite playing ball and she chatted to him about that. He nodded and he clucked in sympathy in the right places, but his heart just wasn’t in it. The destination they were approaching loomed larger and larger in his mind until her voice was just a drone in the background to be responded to politely.
“Next left. Continue 100 yards,” the sat nav said politely.
Belfast got progressively less and less leafier as the car moved from one side of the city to the other. He could almost see the transition; his Ma still lived on this side of the city and though he despaired to see the wee smicks and spides hanging around in shop entrances and women young and old tramping around in public in their Primark pyjamas, he had a sense of guilt at his own snobbery in doing so. This was his home.
In Mr Black’s office, when he’d stared out for a few long moments over the city, it hadn’t been the Kensington Avenue direction he’d been looking. It had been to here.
“In two hundred yards, turn right.”
They swung into the estate Steve and Ellie had moved into; all terraced houses and footballs sailing this way and that. As they did so, Danny felt the detachment he’d been experiencing evaporate and he began to feel distinctly strange; claustrophobic inside the car, which was ridiculous. The one thing you could say about it was that it was spacious. He could have held his wedding reception in the back seats.
He scanned the houses they were cruising past. Maggie, who was still carping on about the injustices of being a legal trainee and how unreasonable customers could be, was keeping the speed at barely 20 so he had time to look, but he could see nothing remarkable; a succession of little houses, a few people in their front rooms moving past their windows-
“If you look to your left,” the sat nav intoned, in a voice that was not quite its own, “you will see a faerie rath.”
His whole body chilled. “What?” he said urgently. “What did it say?”
Maggie gave him a puzzled look. “What are you on about?” she said, a mite testily. “Were you even listening to what-”
“It said something!” he blurted, tapping the sat nav’s screen accusingly. “Something about wrath or looking and seeing! Didn’t you hear it? Where the fuck are we anyway?”
He glanced at the street name. Regent Street. It seemed to resonate within him, as if he were a symphony and this street a note played in that exact musical key.
“We’re here,” he said. “Stop.”
Maggie sighed. “Is this one of your gags?” she said. “Because I have to tell you, I’m not really in the mood. We’re not here. You told me Steve and Ellie lived in Fitzwilliam Street; it’s at the far end of the estate.”
By this time they had reached the end of Regent Street and were pulling left onto the main avenue connecting the other streets. Danny twisted in his seat, before looking imploringly over at Maggie. “Turn around,” he said.
“Do what?”
“Turn us around. Take us back down. I just want to…want to hear if it happens again.”
She let loose with an epic sigh, shrugged, and pulled them down the next street to the right, so that they reached the main road again. Once on it, she dutifully turned right and pulled into Regent Street once more. Ready for it this time, Danny found his attention split between the sat nav and the houses they were going past. He tapped the screen, hit the “state location” button.
“Regent Street,” the sat nav responded on cue. That was it.
“No…” he said, frustrated. “It didn’t even sound like its own voice before…”
“Didn’t you download some Basil Fawlty voice model for it or something?” Maggie suggested, unable to disguise the impatience from her voice.
Danny didn’t reply. He was staring at the street as they idled through it. He felt as if he were looking at one of those pictures that looks like a young woman’s body and then, if you looked long enough, suddenly it wasn’t a young woman’s body at all, it was an old woman’s face; the shoulders became the eyes and the legs the nose and what you thought you were seeing was really something else entirely.
Yes. An old woman’s face somehow seemed entirely appropriate. He couldn’t shake that, try as he might.
But nothing was forthcoming. No eureka moment. And as the car reached the last few houses for the second time, Maggie pulled them into the kerb and killed the engine, looking over at him. “Are you okay?” she asked simply, and the impatience from earlier had faded to be replaced only with concern.
He cast his eyes down, feeling foolish. “Yes,” he said. “I’m…I’m sorry. I just, it was the weirdest thing.”
“Look…Danny…you’ve been working hard. Long hours. And I know you’re doing really well in work and I’m proud of you, but maybe, after this go-live, we should go somewhere. Have a break. Just you and me. For a few days or a week. And just…relax. I mean, that nightmare…and then,” and she paused for a moment, “and then this morning…”
He coloured instantly at the reminder of this morning, as he’d known he would the moment it was brought up. “I’m sorry about that,” he mumbled. “Really, I am.”
He wanted her to start the car again and get to Steve’s, but to his chagrin they remained sitting right where they were. “I thought we agreed,” she said quietly. “Not to, you know, take a risk of…complicating things before we‘re good and ready. Or, you know, maybe not even then. Who knows. I thought that’s what we both wanted. We have a good life, don’t we?”
Sitting in that car, thinking about the house they’d just left, the job he had, he couldn’t find the strength to argue with her or deny what she was saying was wrong. Everything he had seemed to add up to the things he’d always visualised having when he worked through school.
“Yeah. We do.”
She smiled and he could see she was genuinely attempting to lighten the mood. “After tonight you’ll probably want to wear three at a time.”
“Don’t,” he said, before he could stop himself.
Her eyes widened in surprise. “What?”
“Don’t talk about him like that.”
“Talk about…? Aaron?” she said, now very confused.
“Yeah,” he replied, though something about it didn’t seem to fit. “Don’t talk about him like he’s some sort of…I dunno, cautionary example, okay? He’s a child.”
“Okay,” she said, still a little taken aback. “It was just a joke.”
“Okay, well…” he began, and then the colour drained from his face altogether. Maggie, noticing this, actually felt a twinge of fear herself such was the shock in his expression, and found herself following his eyeline to see what it was
that had caused such a reaction.
There was an old woman by the car. She was hunched over, partially out of age it looked like, but mostly because she wanted to look inside. Her eyes were fixed on Danny.
Maggie rolled down the driver side window. “Can I help you?” she asked the woman, feeling some unease herself.
She was ignored completely.
“Believe me now?” the old woman said, staring straight at Danny.
Maggie felt Danny’s hand drop on her arm. “Drive,” he said, his voice strained and faraway, his eyes still locked in place, seemingly unable to break free. “Go. Just go.”
They set off, the old dear receding into the distance, though she continued staring after the car until they eventually made the left turn towards Fitzwilliam Avenue.
***
“Wanker!”
“Fuckface!”
Greetings with Danny thus exchanged, Steve turned his attention to Maggie and smoothly changed gears. “Maggie,” he said gravely. “Good to see ye love.”
“Good to see you too Steve,” she replied, sounding slightly bemused.
“Find the place alright?”
Walking into the house, Danny and Maggie exchanged a glance with each other at Steve’s innocent question. “Yeah,” Danny answered, carefully. “No problem.”
“The wee fella’s just getting fed,” he said, thumbing upstairs to indicate where it was taking place.
“Oh, good - he’ll be settled during dinner then,” Danny said instantly.
Steve blinked. So did Maggie. “Uh, yeah,” Steve nodded, giving Danny a look. “So, um, feel free to come on through to the sittin’ room. You’re lookin’ well, Maggie.”
Danny cast a sideways look at his friend. Back in the day when Maggie and Ellie had roomed together, the first night he and Steve had met the two girls he’d paired with Ellie and Steve had paired with Maggie. Nothing serious had happened between the two, so far as he knew, but the way he’d said that…was he still carrying a bit of a torch for her?
She smiled and curtseyed exaggeratedly. “And you,” she returned. “Fatherhood agrees with you.”
Steve snorted. “Agrees with what part of me? The bags under my eyes or the spare tyre?”
It was true, Danny had to admit. His friend looked like shit, but Maggie was hardly going to tell him that, was she. She flushed, her attempt at diplomacy deflating a little. Danny decided it was time to wade to her rescue. “You can’t blame that on fatherhood lad,” he pointed out, as they entered the sitting room (tiny, cluttered) and sat down on the settee (bumpy, cheap). “You’ve always been prone to bein a lazy fucker, lets be honest.”
“Danny!” Maggie said, horrified.
“Ach listen to him,” Steve said easily, “a swanky job and a big motor and he’s King Dick. Tell me Maggie love, is it true what they say about fellas with big cars making up for things in other departments?”
“Fuck,” Danny whistled, “if that is true lad, what’s your next mode of transport gonna have to be? The Space Shuttle?”
“I’ve taken yer Ma to heaven and back a few times on my mode of transport…”
“Balls. The only Close Encounters you’ve ever had are of the Turd Kind, ya big woofter.”
Maggie’s head was moving back and forth like a spectator in the front row at Wimbledon. The two boys seemed to notice they were leaving her behind a little and slowed the pace of the back-and-forth with each other with a noticeable downshift. Steve began to ask Maggie a few questions about her job, giving Danny time to breathe and to think.
The old woman…how did he know her? How had she known him? Why had he frozen so instantly to see her wizened old face leaning towards him? Believe me now? What did that even mean?
“-drink?”
He surfaced again, and pieced together what he’d missed. “Yeah, that’d be great.”
“C’mon give us a hand lad,” Steve said, indicating the kitchen. Danny nodded and met Maggie’s eyes; she winked at him for a half-second and he squeezed her hand.
The kitchen was incredibly narrow. He was able to lay a hand on the counter to the right and the little breakfast bar to the left. Boxes of cereal in various states of use littered the place. Empty bottles stood on the sink counter. Something was doing in the microwave; he could see the counter counting down from 10 seconds. Steve was stooping down to open the under-counter fridge; he had already fished a few bottles of Stella from its interior.
Ding.
Remove steriliser from microwave using safety grips. Spin. Grab tea towel from oven door. Wrap around hand. Unscrew steriliser top. Yank hand away from steam escaping. Place lid on draining board-
“Lad?”
Danny stopped and looked into the astonished face of his oldest friend. “What?”
“What are you doing?”
“I’m…” he began, and then trailed off. Steam was curling up in copious quantities from the steriliser. He looked at the freshly-sterile bottles and bottle tops within and knew that if he lined them up in a row, which wasn’t strictly necessary but did look really good, all he had to do then was pour the boiled water from the kettle…
“I…” he said, and found that he had no words.
“Not that I don’t appreciate the help,” Steve said, and laughed to break the tension. “All this shit doesn’t come natural to me, even after months of practice. Ellie says the other day it’s like I only just started. You been, ah,” and he grinned and dropped his voice to conspiratorial levels, “you been takin’ a course or something? Got…plans?” and he made a baby rocking motion with the bottles of Stella he still held in his arms.
“No,” was all Danny said. He took the bottle and cracked its lid off with the bottle opener Steve handed him, sinking a long and cool draught that was as welcome as it was necessary.
They moved back to the living room, after Steve had fixed Maggie a vodka and Diet Coke (“sorry no lemon” he’d said apologetically, God love him). Danny sat beside his girlfriend and gave her a little upturned tug of his mouth to indicate things were going well, though to be honest he was growing more and more agitated by the second.
Footsteps down the stairs. And there they were, standing at the living room door.
“You’re all right,” he said, up out of his seat, practically collapsing with relief. “You’re okay,” and he was this close to stepping to them and throwing his arms around them both, around Ellie and the little boy she was holding, when the little fella turned around (he’d been dangling over her shoulder while she rubbed his back) and looked, goggle-eyed and bobble-headed, into Danny’s eyes.
He stopped in his tracks.
Everyone had.
“Um,” Ellie said eventually, to break the silence. “It’s good to see you Danny. Steve, have you been telling people you’ve murdered me again?”
“Only now and again,” Steve offered weakly, splitting his gaze between his friend and his girlfriend. Danny could feel his eyes boring into the back of his head, but they were nothing compared to the twin laser beams of intensity being drilled into the side of his face by Maggie from her vantage point on the sofa. It was a wonder he didn’t spontaneously combust. At this point, he would have welcomed it.
“Ach!!! He! Is! Gorgeous!” Maggie said, finally turning off the Stare of Certain Death and standing up to walk to Ellie. She placed her glass carefully on the windowsill before approaching mother and son. “Look at you wee man! Look at you! Where’s the wee man?”
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