Noreen bit her lip at the gentle, implied rebuke. ‘I don’t mean to be ungracious, Rajiv. Until I got married I was used to fending for myself.’
‘Time to learn how to receive as well as to give,’ Rajiv said mildly. ‘Much harder sometimes. You must honour people’s divinity, my dear, and accept their kindness so that they can be infinitely rewarded for their generosity. Kindness from another can sometimes be reparation for a wrong done in a past life.’
‘Oh!’ murmured Noreen. ‘I hadn’t thought of it like that. I’m not sure about past lives and all of that. OK then, I’ll use the money I have for a deposit. My salary will pay the mortgage and when I get the proceeds from the house I can pay it off. That should keep you and Oliver happy.’ She smiled at him. ‘You see life so differently to the way I do. I value independence and you tell me to learn to receive … we’re going to have some interesting discussions, I can see.’
‘Be open, Noreen. Our children will learn a lot of wisdom from both our cultures,’ Rajiv said easily.
‘They’ll be very lucky to have a lovely daddy, which was much more than I had.’
‘Let the past go, Noreen. Your father made karma for himself that no one would want; bless him and send forgiveness and it will come back to you a thousandfold.’
‘I’m not that much of a saint, Rajiv, but I’ll try, some time,’ she said dryly. ‘Come on, I’ll go and make an offer to the estate agent. The sooner I have a place of my own, the sooner I can decorate a nursery.’
* * *
Oliver could hear the doorbell shrilling, making his head throb. ‘Piss off, whoever you are,’ he muttered. ‘Leave me alone and get away from my door.’ After a while the bell stopped ringing and he fell asleep again.
He woke again to feel someone shaking him vigorously. ‘What the fuck,’ he muttered, opening red-rimmed eyes and closing them quickly as shards of bright sunlight caused immense pain.
‘Oliver, Oliver, wake up. I’ve two couples coming to see the house,’ he heard a woman say agitatedly. ‘Oh, for God’s sake, Oliver, you’re as drunk as a skunk! And the room smells like a brewery. Will you get up and let me get the place sorted,’ Heather Williams exclaimed in exasperation as he opened his eyes again and she swam into focus, staring down at him in dismay.
44
Heather stared down into Oliver Flynn’s bleary eyes and her heart sank. He was mouldy drunk. There were beer cans strewn on the floor and an empty brandy bottle on its side and the room smelt stale and skanky. She went over to the windows and opened them wide.
‘Come on, Oliver, get up. The Reillys from Mount Kilronan are coming and I’m not going to have them see you like this,’ she exclaimed, pulling him up out of the chair. He swayed, but steadied himself.
‘You can’t stay here. Come out to my car and sit in it until the viewing is over. I’ll drive it up the lane a bit, then afterwards you can go up to bed and sleep it off,’ she ordered. She took him by the upper arm and pushed him towards the door.
‘OK, Heather,’ he slurred, the alcohol fumes emanating from him, pungent to say the least. She managed to get him into the car and he slumped down in the seat as she got in beside him and reversed rapidly out of the drive.
‘You know shomething, it was my birthday yeshterday and I thought I’d have a few beers, thatsh all,’ he mumbled. ‘Had to drown my sorrows, ya know. I mean, I couldn’t give her a baby, I can’t even get it up and she rings me and tells me she’s having twins with this Indian bloke. What do you think of that, Heather? It’sh enough to turn a man to drink isn’t it?’ he demanded aggressively.
‘Yes it is, Oliver,’ Heather soothed, stunned at his drunken revelations. Noreen was having twins and Oliver wasn’t the father. No wonder the poor chap had hit the bottle.
‘Not that I’m much of a man,’ Oliver continued dolefully. ‘Had all the tests. Embarrashing, Heather. Can’t have kids, can’t do the business, what woman is ever going to want to be with me?’
Heather didn’t know what to say. ‘Don’t worry about it now, Oliver, you just go for a little snooze until the viewings are over,’ she murmured as she pulled in between two bright, yellow gorse bushes that hid the car from view of the house. ‘Stay there now,’ she said urgently, afraid that the people would arrive early and she wouldn’t have the lounge sorted.
‘Don’t leave me,’ he slurred. ‘I like talking to you.’
‘We’ll talk in a little while, Oliver, I promise. Now have a rest there for a few minutes and I’ll be back.’ She patted him on the arm. ‘Close your eyes, like a good fella,’ she ordered and felt a wave of relief when his head drooped and his eyes closed.
She grabbed a bag out of the back seat that contained a duster, polish and a room spray. She always carried it with her to freshen up empty houses that she was showing. Oliver was still half asleep, so she opened the window on her side, closed the door gently and legged it back up the lane as fast as she could in her tight skirt. She rooted around the kitchen presses until she found a bin liner and filled it with the empty beer cans and brandy bottle. A plate held the remains of a cheese sandwich so she tidied that up, ran a brush over the floor and liberally sprayed air freshener around the room. She hurried upstairs to see what the main bedroom was like but the bed was made. Oliver clearly hadn’t slept in it. She plumped up the pillows and tweaked the duvet so that it was uncreased. It was a beautiful room with magnificent views; she felt sorry for Oliver that he had to sell the house. She sprayed some polish in the air to give a nice ‘just polished’ smell.
She had just finished wiping the crumbs off the kitchen table when the doorbell rang signalling the arrival of the Reillys. Mr and Mrs Reilly were a wealthy couple who owned several businesses in the town. They lived in a luxurious bungalow about a mile out of Kilronan and Heather was sure there was more than a hint of nosiness in their desire to see the Flynns’ house. She hated people who came to view with no intention of buying. Already they had a firm offer in, giving the asking price, but both Ray and herself felt that it could go higher if they persevered for a while longer. Oliver had given them another week. He was anxious to get the sale complete.
The Reillys proved to be exremely thorough in their prying, opening every single press and wardrobe. Oliver would be mortified if he realized. He was such a reserved, private man.
‘And why exactly are they selling up? They haven’t lived here all that long.’ Joan Reilly couldn’t contain her curiosity.
‘I just show the houses, Mrs Reilly,’ Heather said politely.
‘Oh, the reason I’m asking is that I was wondering was there some fault or flaw?’ the older woman riposted frostily, a faint hint of pink in her cheeks at Heather’s implication.
‘Well, of course, if you are interested in buying the property, you will be able to have it surveyed. It’s always advisable.’ Heather smiled sweetly.
‘We’ll be in touch with Ray if we decide to put in an offer,’ Mrs Reilly said snootily, putting Heather firmly in her place. The doorbell rang. It was the next couple, a freelance tax consultant and his wife who were interested in relocating from Dublin. He was in his mid-thirties, intense and bumptious, his wife a quiet, self-effacing young woman who didn’t have much to say for herself. Mrs O’Reilly looked them up and down and swept out the door without so much as a thank you. Her husband grunted something in her direction and followed his wife down the steps.
‘It’s got possibilities!’ the tax consultant told her twenty minutes later, ‘but I wouldn’t be prepared to pay what they’re looking for.’ Heather knew he was chancing his arm.
‘We have an offer in for the asking price already,’ Heather assured him.
‘Well, they’re paying far too much,’ Shay Lincoln blustered. ‘It’s too far from Dublin for that price.’
‘Well, the couple who’ve put in the offer are from Dublin and they don’t seem to think so. It’s all a matter of perception, isn’t it?’ Heather remarked.
‘Come on, Chloe, let’s view that ho
use outside Navan,’ Shay said peremptorily, giving a curt nod in Heather’s direction.
Up yours too, she thought, but she smiled politely, thinking that the whole morning had been wasted. She filled the kettle and switched it on, waiting until their Merc had disappeared before she headed off to rescue Oliver. He was snoring loudly, oblivious to everything. Heather drove the car back to the front of the house and gave him a poke in the ribs. ‘Come on, Oliver, wakey, wakey.’ He opened one eye and looked at her bleary-eyed.
‘Don’t ask,’ she said kindly. ‘I have the kettle boiling. What you need is a good strong cup of coffee.’
Oliver groaned and ran his hand over a dark, stubbly jaw. ‘I think I went on a bender,’ he muttered, but this time he seemed more with it, his voice less slurred than earlier.
‘I think that about describes it,’ Heather said cheerfully as she led the way into the house. ‘Sorry about leaving you in the car. I thought it was the best thing to do, especially as the Reillys from Mount Kilronan were the first viewers.’
‘That pair!’ Oliver exclaimed in disgust as he sank on to a chair at the kitchen table and put his head in his hands. ‘I don’t care if they offer more than the asking price, I’m not selling to that pair of snobby hoors!’
Heather laughed.
‘Sorry about the language,’ he apologized.
‘Ah, don’t be silly, Oliver. You should see me in full flow, especially when I’m describing Neil and Lorna,’ Heather scoffed as she placed a mug of coffee in front of him. ‘Would you like anything to eat?’
Oliver winced. ‘No thanks. Look, Heather, I’m very sorry that … em … er … sorry about this,’ he muttered, embarrassed.
‘Forget it, Oliver, you’re going through a rough time, it’s allowed. Look, when you’ve finished that why don’t you go up and have a shower and go to bed and I’ll come back later on this afternoon and drive you to wherever you left the car,’ she offered.
‘I think I left it in the car park behind the Haven. I was on the way home from the Ma’s when I dropped in for a drink … or two. I walked home. I wasn’t too bad at that stage. Then I went on the brandy,’ he confessed.
‘Well look, you go and sleep it off and I’ll call back in the afternoon. All part of the service.’ She smiled.
‘OK so,’ he said wearily, too under the weather to argue with her.
Impulsively she stood up from the table and gave him a hug. He looked so miserable and unhappy her heart went out to him. It must be horrible for him to know that Noreen was expecting twins and he couldn’t father a child. She’d thought she was unhappy, but his misery far outdid hers, she decided magnanimously.
‘What was that for?’ he looked astonished.
‘Thought you might need one,’ she said good-naturedly.
‘Thanks, Heather,’ he said awkwardly. ‘You’re a nice person.’
‘Arrah, you’re not bad yourself,’ she said lightly, not wanting him to be embarrassed. ‘See you later.’
Well, you never knew what you were going to encounter when you went showing houses, that was for sure, she reflected as she drove back into town. She had another house to show at lunchtime, she’d want to get a move on.
It was after four before she got back to Oliver’s. There was no sign of his car, so he obviously hadn’t collected it. She wondered if he was at home. She rang the doorbell and waited patiently for him to answer. She heard him run down the stairs and smiled. That sounded more like the Oliver she knew. He was shaved and dressed in fresh clothes when he opened the door and she knew by him that he was mortified.
‘You want a lift into town?’ she asked lightly.
‘You shouldn’t have bothered, Heather. I could make my own way in, the walk wouldn’t kill me,’ he said awkwardly.
‘It might with that hangover.’ She grinned.
Oliver managed a wry smile. ‘It’s pretty impressive all right,’ he agreed.
‘Come on, hop in and I’ll drive as carefully as I can over the potholes,’ she promised.
They drove in silence, but it wasn’t a strained one and when she pulled up outside the Haven he turned and smiled sheepishly at her. ‘Thanks, Heather, if ever I can do you a favour let me know,’ he said.
‘The next time you’re going on a bender let me know and I’ll go with you,’ she laughed. ‘We can drown our sorrows together.’
‘And how are your sorrows? Any better?’ he inquired.
Heather threw her eyes up to heaven. ‘Bad weekend. You might have gone on the beer, I went on a food binge, and then I went on a diet this morning and I saw him arriving home from America so I had an éclair at break time.’ She looked at him. ‘Speaking of food, my Mam’s off on a Ladies Club day out and my dad’s playing golf so I’m fending for myself. Do you feel like coming into the Haven for something to eat before you pick up the car? I’ll treat you for your birthday.’
Oliver laughed. ‘Did I tell you it was my birthday? I must have been pissed. Come on then, but I’ll treat you for what you did for me.’
Heather shook her head. ‘No. My treat. I suggested it, and besides, then you’ll have one good thing to remember this birthday for,’ she said firmly.
‘You’re a real old softie, aren’t you?’ Oliver declared, but he looked pleased.
‘Me, I’m as hard as nails,’ Heather assured him as she reversed into a parking space.
‘Yeah, I believe that all right. You’re the toughest nut in Kilronan.’ They walked into the smoky darkness of the Haven, Oliver holding the door open for her to precede him.
Nice manners, she thought. Neil had been very hit and miss on the manners. They sat in a quiet alcove and studied the menus in silence. ‘Scampi and side salad for me I think,’ Heather decided. ‘Oliver?’
‘Aah, I think I’ll go for the plaice and chips. That can’t do too much damage.’
‘A drink?’ she suggested.
‘I think I’ll stick to Seven-Up,’ Oliver said ruefully as a waitress came to take their order. ‘Er … Heather, I was just wondering, when I told you it was my birthday, did I reveal any more dark secrets?’ he asked warily when the waitress had moved away.
Heather dropped her gaze. She could lie and say he’d said nothing, but what happened if he vaguely remembered saying something? He’d know she was lying.
‘It was drink talking,’ she said offhandedly.
‘And exactly what did drink say?’ he probed.
‘Does it matter, Oliver?’ she shifted in her chair. How did she answer him, for God’s sake?
‘Just tell me, Heather, I can take it on the chin,’ he said firmly.
Heather cleared her throat. ‘Well, you told me that Noreen was expecting twins and that you weren’t the father. And er … you said that you couldn’t give her a child,’ she said quietly. That was as far as she was going, she was damned if she was going to embarrass himself and herself any further by his confession that he couldn’t get it up.
Oliver looked her squarely in the eye and she admired him for it.
‘Heather, for Noreen’s sake I’d ask you not to mention this to anybody. I’d be very grateful for your discretion.’
‘Oliver, I assure you, I promise you, you have it. It’s nobody’s business but yours and Noreen’s. I’ll never say a word to a sinner, honestly,’ she said earnestly.
‘I know you won’t. You’re a real pal.’ Oliver gave her hand a quick squeeze and she felt very honoured to hear him call her a pal. Instinct told her that when Oliver Flynn paid a compliment he meant it.
‘Now tell me how are you getting on with Ray Carleton? He seems to be a decent bloke. Do you think he’s the one on the periphery that your woman told you about?’ Oliver teased, relaxing after clearing the air.
‘No, I found out he’s seeing someone. A teacher up in Dublin. Strike him off the list.’ Heather shrugged.
‘Maybe it’s someone you’ll sell a house to? Don’t give up.’ Oliver stretched his long legs out in front of him.
‘An
d what about you, have you seen anyone?’ Heather asked.
‘I’m not looking.’ His face darkened.
‘Well, they say that it’s when you’re not looking that lurve strikes! So watch out.’
‘I’m not going down that road again, Heather,’ Oliver declared.
‘Tell you what,’ she suggested. ‘Whichever of us gets fixed up first the other one has to buy a bottle of champers.’
‘Well, you’d better decide what you like, Moët, Dom P, because you’ll be the one drinking it.’
‘Go to Anne Jensen, the psychic. I dare you.’ Heather’s eyes sparkled with mischief.
‘Are you mad, woman?’ Oliver growled. ‘Thank God, here’s our food. That will keep you quiet for a while.’
‘Coward,’ she taunted.
‘That’s me,’ he agreed as he sprinkled salt and vinegar on his chips, but Heather was glad to see that at least he was smiling.
45
Oliver sighed and turned over on to his back. Something was different, he thought vaguely, and then realization dawned as the full, tingling sensation that he hadn’t had for months reminded him that he was normal again. No need for Viagra after all. A huge wave of relief enveloped him. He’d seriously begun to wonder if he’d ever enjoy the pleasures of sex again. This was a step in the right direction. He felt a weight lift off his shoulders and for the first time since the beginning of the year he began to feel optimistic about life again.
Life wasn’t too bad at the moment, as it happened. He yawned. The first six apartments were finished, so he could move in any time he wanted, once he had the place painted. Heather had told him she’d give him a hand decorating and arranging furniture and curtains, and stuff like that.
Heather Williams was one really nice girl, he thought sleepily. And very easy to talk to. He felt as if he’d always known her. She had a relaxed way about her that made him feel comfortable in her company. He liked her very much. They’d had a few good laughs since he’d put the house on the market. It was a pity he was the way he was, he wouldn’t mind getting to know her better. Still, at least he wasn’t moping around the place like he had been. And now this. He was half-way normal again. It was a very pleasant start to the day.
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