This Irish House

by Jeanette Baker

  “Hello, Deirdre.” The voice came from a booth near the wall.

  She turned, saw him in the flesh and couldn’t stop the look of dismay that crossed her face.

  His welcoming smile faded. “I saw you come in,” he explained. “It seemed awkward not to say anything.”

  She nodded. “How are you?”

  “Miserable,” he confessed. “And you?”

  “I’m busy,” she said truthfully.

  He frowned into his coffee.

  “Wouldn’t your grandmother like your business?” she asked.

  Peter grinned. “Gran can’t make a proper cup of coffee. Hers is strictly a tea shop. Besides, I had a late night and needed the extra caffeine.”

  “How did you do on your exam?”

  “Which one?”

  “History, of course.”

  “Well enough. What about you?”

  Deirdre groaned and the words spilled out. “I’m hopeless. It’s so disappointing. I’m just not interested, Peter. How am I ever going to get through? I don’t know things other people know and I don’t care about Philip of Macedonia, Alexander the Great or Napolean.”

  He stood and walked around to where she sat. Pointing to the empty seat across from her, he asked, “Do you mind?”

  She should turn him away. It would be better for both of them. “No,” she said.

  “Would you like to hear my theory?” he asked after he sat down.

  “Do I have a choice?”

  “You have a mental block,” he continued, ignoring her question. “Somewhere, you decided it wasn’t important to know why the Battle of Hastings changed the course of English history. Ever since then you were lost.”

  “How did you get to be so smart?”

  Again he grinned, ignoring her sarcasm. “It’s obvious. You have an excellent mind, almost legal in its ability to synthesize information. Your ineptness in the humanities makes no sense.”

  “What do you suggest I do about this so-called mental block?”

  He thought a minute. “You could hire a tutor,” he said. “I know of an exceptional one who hires out at seven pounds an hour.”

  “I’m serious.”

  “Well then, my second suggestion is to read historical fiction.”

  “That’s absurd.”

  “No, it makes perfect sense. Reading plot driven novels will stimulate your interest. You’ll remember events, people and places when you come across them in texts if you’ve heard of them before.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Try it. You’re Irish, Deirdre. We Irish love stories.”

  He’d surprised her. She didn’t think Protestants considered themselves Irish.

  “I don’t have a great deal of time to read novels, Peter.”

  “We’ve the best writers in the world right here in Ireland. You’re missing out on one of life’s true pleasures.”

  “I’ve never seen you read a novel.”

  “I don’t read when I’m with people. What would be the point in that?”

  “Maybe I should hire a tutor.” She frowned. “It’s just that it costs money and I don’t want to bother my mother with this just now.”

  “I’ll help you.”

  “I don’t think so, Peter.”

  He leaned forward, eyes intent on her face and spoke earnestly. “It wouldn’t be the same as meeting socially. We’ll discuss our studies, that’s all.”

  She hesitated. Why not? No one could object, not if the intent was purely for purposes of raising her exam scores. “All right, but I won’t be able to pay you much.”

  “We’ll work that one out later.”

  Deirdre smiled. “I will pay you, Peter. I promise.”

  Kate answered on the second ring. “This is Kate Nolan.”

  “Hello, Kate. It’s Neil.”

  They hadn’t spoken since the night in his flat, over a week ago. “Hello, Neil,” she said coolly.

  “How are you?”

  “I’m well, thank you.”

  “You left a message,” he said after a moment of awkward silence.

  “Yes. Could we meet?”

  “Of course. Where?”

  “Brennan’s at noon.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  Kate stared at the phone. She was strangely depressed. So much for his loving her. How could a man be in love and require no contact beyond a night of intimacy? She wanted no part of Neil Anderson’s kind of love. But she did need him. She mustn’t lose sight of that.

  Brennan’s, with its dark wood and smoky corners, was a perfect place for an illicit meeting. Not that his meeting with Kate was illicit, Neil assured himself. But he had a feeling she would rather no one knew about it.

  He chose a secluded table at the back of the restaurant. He saw her before she saw him and his breath caught. What was there about a woman that made her stand out? She lit up the room as if she was the only one there. Spunky, fey, elegant. The words came to his mind. She filled his senses. He was conscious of smoky hair, clear, light-filled eyes, sharply defined bones, a walk that combined the sensual and athletic. Where had she been the last twenty years of his life? The question was rhetorical. She was Patrick’s wife, Deirdre and Kevin’s mother. Neil could have stared forever, but she’d seen him. Suddenly he was nervous. He stood and pulled out her chair. “Hello, Kate.”

  “Hello.” She looked directly at him. “Have you ordered?”

  “I waited for you.”

  She picked up the menu and glanced at the page. “I think I’ll have the chicken salad and a Squash.”

  Neil couldn’t begin to concentrate on food. “Is everything all right?”

  “I’m not sure.” Again she looked at him without blinking. “I was beginning to think our interlude existed only in my imagination. Were you ever going to call me again?”

  He schooled his features into a polite mask. She’d shocked him. Neil couldn’t remember the last time he’d experienced such an emotion. No woman of his acquaintance, no lady anyway, would have brought up such a subject. He made an instant decision to be just as straightforward. “Believe it or not, I’ve given it quite a bit of thought.”

  “Go on.”

  “You scare me, Kate,” he said honestly. “I don’t want to start what can’t be finished.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I’m forty-two years old and single. Brief affairs hold no appeal for me. I’m thinking about whom I want to wake up next to for the next thirty years. I see no point in involving myself in a situation that has all the potential for heartbreak.”

  She opened her mouth and closed it again without saying anything. Then she wet her lips. “What about Kevin?”

  “I’m working on it.”

  “Can you tell me what you’ve decided?”

  “I’d rather not.”

  Kate sipped her water. He noticed that her hands shook. She was not as coolly collected as she appeared. “Can you tell me if he’ll be safe?”

  “I’ll do my best, Kate. Believe that.”

  She nodded.

  The waitress took their order, returned with their drinks and left them alone again.

  “I need your help,” Kate said, changing the subject.

  Neil waited.

  She pulled a slip of paper from her purse. “This is a New York City phone number. I want you to find the address of that number.”

  “Have you tried it?”

  “Of course,” she said impatiently.

  “And?”

  “A woman answered. She was probably a maid, a very discreet maid.”

  “I see.”

  “You did say you would help me.”

  Neil pocketed the number. “I’ll help you, Kate, on one condition.”

  “What condition?”

  “You won’t leave the country without telling me first.”

  “Do you have any idea how arrogant you sound?”

  Neil grinned. “You’ll never catch a man by insulting him.”

&
nbsp; Her face flamed. “I have no desire to catch a man. Besides, if he can’t stomach the real me, I wouldn’t want him anyway.”

  “Thank you. It helps to be informed.”

  “I thought you didn’t want to be involved in a situation with a potential for heartbreak.”

  “I’ve changed my mind. I’ve always been a risk taker.”

  “Well, I haven’t,” she snapped. “All I want is my address.”

  He sobered immediately. “This is illegal, you know.”

  “It’s done all the time.”

  “Not by me.”

  She said nothing.

  “What do you hope to gain by this, Kate? Whatever you find, it won’t be pleasant. Patrick was involved in a great many things, none of which will delight you. Why not just leave it and move on?”

  “I want to know if I’ve lived a lie.”

  “We all live lies.”

  “I don’t.”

  He sighed. “And if you have?”

  “I don’t know,” she said honestly.

  He frowned. “Do you agree to my condition?”

  “I have no choice.”

  “Of course you do.”

  “I don’t see it that way, however, under the circumstances, yes, I agree.”

  “I was afraid of that,” he muttered under his breath.

  Neil was having a difficult time reining in his temper. The boy was obstinate and rude. Only the fact that he was Kate’s son kept him from abandoning his mission. He tried a different approach. “Are you hungry?”

  Kevin shrugged.

  A beggar sat on a pile of newsprint in the shadow of a vendor’s awning and held out a cup. Neil pulled out a coin from his pocket and dropped it in. “How does fish and chips sound?”

  “I’d rather have a burger.”

  Neil looked around.

  Kevin pointed to the McDonald’s marquis on the corner of the next street.

  Neil managed a smile. American-style hamburgers weren’t among his preferred foods. He took another look at the boy’s face and made a decision not at all consistent with what he was feeling. “Come along, then,” he said.

  When they were seated across from each other in the sterile, plastic-covered booth, Neil tried a different approach. “Will you leave Ardara when the time comes?”

  “What?” Kevin looked confused.

  “When you’re grown and this is behind you.”

  “I hadn’t thought about it.”

  “Surely you’ve considered university and what you’ll do for the rest of your life.”

  Kevin shook his head. “I’m not much of a student,” he offered, “not like Deirdre.”

  “A trade perhaps?”

  “I don’t think so. Mum would have an attack.”

  Neil bit into his fish sandwich managing the question and the chewing at the same time. “I can’t imagine your mother having an attack over anything.”

  Kevin looked somewhere over Neil’s shoulder, considering his answer. “She doesn’t really,” he agreed, “not usually. There was that one time when she picked me up from the RUC barracks in Belfast. You were there,” he reminded Neil.

  “I don’t remember her losing her calm. It must have happened after you left.”

  “I told her to leave me alone.” Kevin grinned. “It was my language she didn’t like, and my tone.”

  “I see.”

  Kevin kept on talking. “She pulled over to the side of the road, got out and started running.”

  “What?” Neil stopped chewing.

  “She does that, you know, runs at every opportunity.”

  Neil didn’t know. He remembered her athletic stride, the toned muscles, the absence of fat. Kate was a runner. It wasn’t important, or was it? Somehow, his perception of her changed, tilted slightly in another direction. What did it mean? Why did it pull him up short?

  “How long has she been running?”

  “Five years or so. She started up after my da died.”

  He’d said died, not the harsh murdered or the benign passed away. Neil swallowed the last of his fish. Why was he obsessing like this? What difference did it make to know that Kevin thought of his father as dead and his mother and sister considered him murdered, or that Kate Nolan had passions that exorcised themselves through harsh physical exercise?

  Kevin’s next statement jarred Neil out of his reverie.

  “I think I’d like to be an artist.”

  Where had that come from? “Really?” He knew less than nothing about children. Instinct told him to listen, say little and encourage the boy to talk about himself.

  “Aye.” Kevin nodded. “I’m good at animated figures, you know, the kind you see on the telly.”

  Neil waited.

  “I won a prize once, in primary school. There was a contest. I didn’t want to enter but my da made me do it and I won. Someone mounted it and it was displayed in the community center for a month. Mum was so proud. She brought everyone she knew in the whole town of Sligo to see it.” Kevin’s eyes sparkled with the memory.

  Neil was fascinated. He’d never seen that relaxed, happy look on the boy’s face.

  “Have you studied art?”

  Kevin’s face fell. “Not in school. Mine is a preparatory school, strictly academic. Art isn’t considered an important subject.”

  Neil balled his napkin and aimed for the trash can. The paper ball rolled around the edges and tumbled in. “It occurs to me that you may not be going back to that school.”

  “Mum will make me. She’s very set on it.”

  “She’s also had quite a scare. Your mum isn’t unreasonable, Kevin. You may be able to convince her to give your art a chance at one of the National Schools or, maybe when you’re finished with traditional education. Perhaps an art academy would be a better choice.”

  Kevin’s face reflected his disbelief. “Do you really think she would agree?”

  “You know her better than I do. But there’s always a chance, if you’re clean and stay away from whatever it was that sent you into this spin.”

  “I can do that.”

  “Good.”

  Suddenly Kevin’s face closed. “I should be getting back now.”

  “Would you like to get out of this, Kevin?”

  “God, yes, but—”

  “What?”

  “What about my sentence?”

  “Trust me.”

  The boy was no longer eating.

  “Together we can get you out,” Neil continued, “but it must be done carefully.”

  “I thought you said I was the only one who could get inside and tell you what was happening.”

  “I’ve changed my mind.”

  Kevin looked up. “Because of my mother?”

  Neil’s heart twisted. The lad was so very young. “No,” he said shortly.

  “Why, then?”

  “Because it isn’t right.” Neil spread his hands. “Because I didn’t have all the facts and, now that I do, I see that involving you isn’t the right thing at all.”

  “What about catching the drug lords?”

  “There will always be drug lords. Let someone else catch them.”

  “Won’t you be in trouble?”

  “No.”

  “May I think about it?”

  “Why?”

  Kevin hesitated.

  “If this has to do with your uncles, Kevin, they’ll make their own way. If they’ve done nothing wrong, nothing will happen to them.”

  “What if they have?”

  Neil considered the question carefully. He’d made enormous strides with Kevin this afternoon. The wrong words would set him back to the place where they’d started. “That depends on them,” he said honestly. “They’ll face consequences just as you did. If they cooperate things will go easier for them. No one comes away from committing a crime without some trouble, lad. They’re grown men. They know the odds. You needn’t worry about them.” He was about to add that they wouldn’t worry about him if the circumstance
s were reversed, but he caught himself in time. He would lose the boy if he passed judgment on his father’s family.

  Kevin stood. “I should be getting back. There’s a meeting I’m required to attend.”

  Neil knew when to back off. He picked up Kevin’s jacket and his own and followed the boy out the door. They were silent on the drive back to Tranquility House. Kevin gave a terse “goodbye,” and hurried up the steps.

  Neil watched him walk through the door. He’d done all he could do. Whether or not Kevin agreed, the boy would be out. It would go easier with his knowledge and cooperation, but it could be done without them. After their conversation he was more convinced than ever to pull the boy out of the entire mess. Now, if he could only convince Kate to give up her absurd quest.

  Somehow, before he fully realized what was happening, Neil had become emotionally embroiled in a family situation that was not his own. All it needed was for Kate’s daughter to suck him into something for which he wasn’t prepared. He wasn’t discounting the possibility. Stranger things had happened.

  He picked up his mobile phone and dialed the number for directory assistance. “Belfast Telegraph, please.” He punched in the number, waited for someone to pick up the phone and ask for his contact. “I need a favor, Danny. A shipment of arms is scheduled for the Ormeau Road tomorrow morning. It could be a rumor, but—” He deliberately let the edge of his sentence hang.

  “Someone will be on it.”

  “Be sure to include a photographer. The RUC will be out in full force.”

  “Consider it done.”

  Neil placed the next phone call directly to Robbie Finnigan. “A source informs me of an arms shipment down the Ormeau Road tomorrow morning.”

  “Is it legitimate?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Who is the source?”

  “I’d rather not say at the moment.”

  He heard the hesitation. His hand tightened on the phone.

  “Is he reliable?”

  “Yes.”

  “All right. We’ll send our men out, but if this is a mistake, Neil, my head will be in a noose.”