The Stone House

Home > Other > The Stone House > Page 8
The Stone House Page 8

by Marita Conlon-McKenna


  ‘Life jacket, waterproofs, boots, over-jacket and mate’s hat,’ they listed off. ‘Salty Dog crew gear.’

  Kate grinned. Ever since she was twelve she’d loved hanging around boats and was always looking for the opportunity to go sailing with her cousins. She usually had to cadge stuff off them, and now she had the whole lot.

  ‘That’s just the perfect present,’ she giggled, hugging them all.

  She spent half an hour politely introducing her friends to her father and then gave up, knowing that he would never remember any of them anyways. Patrick was being very mannerly and was deep in conversation with him about the local Chamber of Commerce. Phil and Rob and James and Charlie and some of the guys from her class were already engrossed in a drinking game, which she was tempted to join in but which ended abruptly with her mother’s invitation to pick up a plate and eat. There was food galore, and then the cake with twenty-one candles flickering as everyone in the room sang ‘Happy Birthday’ to her. Her father stepped forward to make a short speech.

  ‘I would like to welcome you all, especially Kate’s college friends from Dublin, for coming to join the family here in Rossmore to celebrate Kate’s twenty-first birthday with us. Kate was always a grand girl, the high flyer of the family, the daughter who was destined for big things! She always had her head stuck in the books, but it paid off, and her mother and I are proud now to have such a promising lawyer in the family. One of these days Kate’s probably going to pass out her old man, and be one of these high-powered career women you read about.’

  Everyone laughed and Kate squirmed with embarrassment, catching a sympathetic glance from Minnie as her father rambled on. Her mother added how glad she was that so many had come to the party.

  ‘Speech! Speech!’ called her friends and family. Kate took a deep breath. She glanced around the room, and could feel the goodwill towards her. Mentally she said a thank-you to Professor O’Kelly, who insisted all his students were capable of standing up and expressing themselves.

  ‘Thank you, everyone, for coming and joining us here in the Stone House, the house where I grew up. I would like to thank my mum and dad, for just being that, being the kind of parents who encouraged me and loved me and believed in me. Thank you to all my friends from college who helped me to settle in Dublin, and especially to my best friends Minnie and Dee who helped me to organize the party. Thanks again of course to my mum and dad for the wonderful food and the bar. Being twenty-one is really crazy because all of a sudden now I’m meant to feel grown up! Anyway I’m just so happy that all the people I love and care about are here with me – my family, my cousins and my friends – because tonight is the best night of my life!’

  ‘So far,’ added her mother, as Kate began to cut the cake, to shouts and applause from everyone.

  Afterwards, Romy started up the music. The mahogany dining table was now pushed back against the wall, and the dancing started.

  Kate looked around the room: no sign of Patrick. Phil caught her in his arms and began swinging her round to Abba’s ‘Dancing Queen’, Kate keeping an eye out for the tall, dark-haired figure. The boys from her class danced with her one after another, admiration in their eyes. Rob tried to coax a kiss from her, telling her he’d fancied her from the first minute he’d set eyes on her in the Buttery Bar. The room got hotter and hotter as it filled up. Even her mum and dad had taken to the floor and were acting like they were twenty-one.

  Conor helped Moya to open the french windows and some of the dancers spilled out onto the patio, glad of the cool air.

  Dee was involved in some kind of argument with John, her on-off boyfriend, and Kate vowed not to get tangled up in it. Desperate for a drink of water she decided to go into the kitchen and cool off for a few seconds. Aunt Vonnie was busy putting away the left-overs, wrapping them in tinfoil.

  ‘There’s enough eating there to do you all for the next two days,’ she joked. ‘Are you having a good time, Kate?’

  ‘The best.’

  ‘Well I’m glad to hear it. Being twenty-one is real special. You look so grown up, so beautiful.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  She liked her aunt because she was always honest and direct.

  ‘I’d better get back.’

  She peeped into the sitting room. Her cousin Liam and Uncle Joe were busy chatting to a group of relations and friends of her parents. The music was blaring from the dining room and she decided to slip outside to chat. Minnie and Phil and James were enjoying cold beers and offered her one.

  ‘Where’s Patrick?’

  ‘Beats me.’

  ‘Maybe he went home!’

  Patrick was too much of a gentleman to leave without thanking her and her parents.

  ‘Relax, Kate. He’ll turn up,’ soothed Minnie.

  Kate felt suddenly very grown up standing out under the night sky with her best friends, glass in hand as her parents made eejits of themselves inside. She looked good, her light brown shoulder-length hair still straight, the expensive perfume James and Charlie had given her dabbed erotically on all her pulse points, her toenails painted and peeping from her high heels, as all around her friends and family enjoyed themselves.

  After a while she decided to go inside, as she didn’t want to get a chill. She passed through the hall and stopped suddenly. Patrick was leaning against the bottom of the stairs, beer in one hand, rapt with attention, talking to someone. She was about to rush over and grab him, drag him off to dance with her, when something about the way he was bending down stopped her. She walked over slowly, fixing a smile on her face.

  He was talking to Moya. The two dark heads and eyes were wrapped up in each other. Moya’s long legs were pulled under her, as they chatted.

  ‘Patrick, where were you? I was looking everywhere for you!’

  He looked up, puzzled.

  ‘I’ve been here talking to your beautiful sister for the past hour.’

  Kate swallowed hard. It had always been the way. It didn’t matter what she wore or did, Moya had only to smile with those full lips of hers and bat those big brown eyes and boys fell at her feet. Ever since playgroup it had been happening.

  ‘Were you looking for me?’ apologized her sister. ‘Does Mum want me for something? I gave out drinks and slices of the cake like she asked earlier on.’

  ‘Couldn’t resist the black cherries and cream myself,’ teased Patrick.

  Kate cursed her mother for making Moya go around offering cake. She was bound to get talking to Patrick that way. Boys and men were mad on cake. Why the hell couldn’t she have asked Romy to do it instead?

  ‘Will we have a dance?’ she couldn’t stop herself from begging.

  ‘Of course I’m going to dance with the Birthday Girl, I wouldn’t miss it for the world.’ He excused himself to Moya, and taking Kate’s hand led her back into the other room, pushing into a space near Conor and Minnie. He’d taken off his jacket and was wearing a gleaming white shirt. Pressed close to him, he smelled lovely, Eau Sauvage.

  ‘Great party, Kate. Thanks for inviting me.’

  She smiled. Why wouldn’t she invite the one man in the room she adored?

  She longed to put her head on his chest and feel his arms around her, have him kiss her neck and without thinking she reached forward to pull him closer to her. Embarrassed she stopped as he pulled away. They danced for another fifteen minutes, Kate talking too much as Phil and Dee and the rest of the party crowd filled in.

  ‘You look very pretty tonight,’ he told her. ‘Pink suits you.’

  She knew she’d get him to notice her. She twirled and danced, disappointed when after a while Patrick excused himself and Rob pulled her into his arms as the slow set started.

  As the crowd began to thin, she went in search of him again, still hopeful. She spotted him out on the terrace, near her father’s rose bed, his black jacket across Moya’s shoulder as they leaned against each other, his head bent down over her, his lips touching hers as they kissed.

  Kate co
uldn’t help staring. They looked so perfect together that she wanted to run over and drag them apart. She felt a restraining hand on her arm.

  ‘I told you not to invite him,’ slurred Minnie. ‘He’s such a womanizer.’

  She felt giddy and sick watching them. Patrick was just like her father, didn’t care about anything but suiting himself. The fact that she had invited him was irrelevant now as he held Moya in his arms. As for her sister! Angrily, Kate turned to go back inside. This was her birthday night, her party, the most important night of her life and stupid Moya had to go and ruin it all. She’d never forgive her. Never.

  Chapter Eleven

  THE NEXT MORNING Kate’s head throbbed and her mouth was dry from all the wine she’d drunk. It was her first big hangover and she turned around in the bed praying that in a few hours she would somehow feel better. Minnie and Dee and Susan had slept in the spare bedroom and her Aunt Vonnie had put a few more of her friends up in her house. The rest of the partygoers dispersed to Rossmore’s various B&Bs and landladies. Oh God, she groaned, hearing the Hoover going downstairs and her mother banging around in the kitchen tidying up. She prayed that the place wasn’t in too bad a state and that no-one had destroyed any carpets or bit of furniture. She closed her eyes and drifted back to sleep.

  The party post-mortem was held around the kitchen table at midday. The girls sat in their dressing gowns, while her mother scrambled eggs and grilled bacon and made huge plates of toast as the gossip began. Her father glanced in briefly and, judging the lie of the land, gathered up a bundle of Sunday papers.

  ‘Great party,’ said Minnie who looked as fresh as a daisy despite dancing till four o’clock. ‘Thanks a bunch for inviting us, Mr Dillon.’

  ‘’Tis great to be young,’ he said, grabbing a cup of black coffee.

  ‘We all had a wonderful night,’ added Dee, ‘and you and Mrs Dillon seemed to be enjoying yourselves too.’

  ‘It was a lovely night,’ said her mother, ‘having you all here with us to celebrate Kate’s birthday.’

  Her father had already dosed himself with Alka Seltzer and was in no humour for reminders of the previous night. He disappeared off to the sanctuary of the small sun-room at the side of the house.

  ‘He’s always grumpy in the morning,’ Romy declared, plumping herself down in the middle of them all, her eyes like a black panda bear, smudged with make-up.

  Kate yawned. Tea and toast would hopefully make her feel better.

  ‘The food was brill, Mrs Dillon, honest and we’ve all had a lovely time.’

  ‘Well that’s what parties are for! Frank and I were glad to see you all enjoying yourselves.’

  One by one they went through every stage of the night: who wore what, who danced with who, and who paired off with who.

  ‘Your cousin Conor is real nice,’ mumbled Minnie, layering egg and bacon on her slice of toast.

  ‘Well you danced with him most of the night,’ teased Dee, ‘so you should know.’

  Kate had a vague recollection of them in the corner smooching but hadn’t realized that her best friend and Conor had hit it off so well.

  ‘Stop teasing the poor girl,’ interrupted Maeve Dillon, passing around the teapot.

  ‘Did you see Moya with that tall guy?’ interrupted Romy, stuffing herself with toast. ‘God, he’s gorgeous.’

  Kate sat still, wishing that God in heaven would find some way of ridding her of the torment of her life.

  ‘What’s his name?’

  ‘Patrick.’

  Kate could sense her friends’ unease around the table.

  ‘Is he one of your college crowd?’

  ‘No, not really. I’ve known him a good while, though. We went out together a few times.’

  Minnie kicked Romy under the table and a look of utter bewilderment crossing Romy’s face, before the dawning realization that she had seriously put her foot in it.

  ‘Oh God, Kate, was he supposed to be your date? Was that the guy you fancied?’

  Kate sat feeling every one of her ancient twenty-one years.

  ‘Yes, but obviously it wasn’t reciprocated.’

  ‘Romy,’ interrupted Maeve Dillon, leaving unpacking the dishwasher. ‘Go and help your father in the sitting room this minute and give Kate and her friends a bit of peace.’

  Romy splayed her elbows on the table, not wanting to leave the cosy circle of chat. ‘Daddy’s reading the papers. He’ll kill me if I disturb him,’ she protested.

  ‘The hall is full of boxes of glasses and plates from last night. Tell your father to put them in the car to bring back, and you can do a count of the cutlery on the dining table to make sure we have them all.’

  ‘It’s not fair,’ she wailed. ‘Why do I have to do everything?’

  She flounced out of the kitchen, her fair wavy hair streeling, and banged the door behind her.

  Her mother diplomatically excused herself and Kate wished she could just crawl back to bed for the rest of the day.

  ‘Don’t mind,’ urged Minnie. ‘Sisters can be right bitches sometimes.’

  ‘That’s an understatement.’

  ‘We’d better start making tracks,’ suggested Dee who had driven down in her mother’s Starlet. ‘Do you want to come back with us?’

  Kate had intended lolling around the house for the rest of the day, basking in the glory of the past twenty-four hours and doing nothing.

  ‘Listen, I better not. Mum will be mad if I just shoot off now and disappear. I’ll get a lift or the bus back later this evening.’

  The others had gone in a cloud of exhaust fumes and honking of the horn by the time Moya appeared downstairs, washed and showered and immaculate, dressed in a pair of pale-blue jeans and a white shirt, her dark hair loose to her shoulders.

  ‘Great party,’ she smiled, helping herself to tea and toast and marmalade as Kate packed the dishwasher. ‘I like your friends.’

  ‘I know you do.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, it was quite obvious last night.’

  Moya bit into the freshly made toast, deliberately ignoring her sister’s snide remark. Kate was so annoyed and angry with her she couldn’t help herself shouting.

  ‘Why did it have to be Patrick? Why him?’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

  ‘You know I asked him to the party because I like him. I’ve gone out with him a few times, we meet up, have a drink, a laugh. We’ve had a few dates and I like being with him. You know that.’

  ‘I didn’t know that!’

  ‘Everyone knows it!’

  ‘Well, I didn’t go looking for him, Kate, so don’t be so bloody ridiculous! We just got talking, that’s all. If you must know, he was the one who chatted me up.’

  ‘I don’t want you ever talking to him again or seeing him, do you hear? Promise me!’

  ‘I can’t promise you that,’ said Moya softly. ‘I’m sorry, Kate. I can’t promise you that.’

  ‘It was my twenty-first, my night,’ she howled, ‘and you tried to spoil it for me.’

  Moya got up from the table, leaving her plate and cup.

  ‘I’m sorry you see it like that,’ she said.

  Even though it was her first day as a mature adult, Kate put her head on her arms and bawled like a big baby.

  Back in Dublin she threw herself into study, revision becoming all important as she crammed and crammed. She gave up going out mid-week and attended every tutorial she could. Every spare hour she was in the library going over lecture notes and case studies. The final exams were looming and she was determined to get First Class Honours. Her mother was doing a novena for her and she could hardly eat or sleep with the stress of it all. Minnie had broken out in spots and Dee had got mouth ulcers and by agreement their flat was decreed a no-go zone until after the exams. Moya had phoned her once or twice, trying to arrange to see her, but she had managed to avoid her and as for Patrick, he had no interest in swotting exam students and was caught
up in his own social life. She had bumped into him briefly outside the bank one day. He had been polite, thanked her for the party and wished her good luck with her exams, but had made no mention of getting together or a night out to celebrate afterwards.

  ‘Put him out of your mind,’ advised Minnie.

  ‘He’s a shit!’ added Dee emphatically, trying to memorize the Constitution.

  Kate had bags under her eyes and had gained about sixteen pounds by the time the exams ended. Bread, chocolate and peanuts had sustained her brain for studying and now she was paying for it.

  ‘We look absolutely awful,’ sighed Minnie, contemplating the red marks and scabs on her face.

  ‘I feel like I could sleep for a month.’

  ‘Let’s go out and dance and drink and get picked up by some gorgeous guys and have a laugh,’ pleaded Dee.

  ‘No-one will pick us up looking like this.’

  ‘We can dance and have a laugh, then. We’re finished college, for God’s sake.’

  The night was young. They’d started off in the Buttery Bar for old times’ sake and then crowded onto the 46a bus and gone to Hartigan’s where all the rugby crowd hung out. Rob and James and a crowd from Bective rugby club insisted on buying them pints. The place was so jammered you could scarcely move and the crowd spilled out onto Leeson Street. Kate was so hot she could feel her pale blue T-shirt sticking to her.

  ‘James and Dave and a few of the guys are off to Boston on Monday for the summer to work,’ announced Rob. ‘So we have to give them a bit of a send-off.’

  ‘Where are you working?’

  ‘Construction. Building sites most likely,’ grinned James.

  They stayed there till closing time, the barman lifting their glasses from the counter to get rid of them. The night was warm as they stood outside deliberating.

  ‘Where to, ladies?’

  ‘Dancing,’ insisted Dee.

  They considered a few of the nightclubs and discos close by, eventually settling on Annabel’s, which was within walking distance and had a late bar and disco.

  Rob held Kate’s hand as they walked along Leeson Street past the empty offices and basement nightclubs. It was such a lovely night she was glad she’d made the effort to come out instead of collapsing into bed with exhaustion. Rob and herself avoided all mention of the exam papers and what they had written. The die was cast as far as she was concerned and there was no point going back over it. It was so hard to believe she was no longer a full-time student and would soon be out in the working world trying to make a living.

 

‹ Prev