Better Together

by Sheila O'Flanagan

  He looked at her in surprise. ‘Why not?’

  ‘It’s not what I do,’ she said. ‘I’m a sports writer. That’s what I love. And yes, I like to bring people to account if they’ve done something wrong. But what I’ve never done, and what I’m not going to do now, is write about a situation where I’m personally involved. Nor do I want to hurt people I know. Nina, for example, who’s gone through enough already with that husband of hers. And Josh – I don’t want to be the one to call his grandfather a crook.’

  ‘My father isn’t a crook,’ said Joe.

  ‘A few months ago I would’ve liked to believe anything about your father,’ she said. ‘But I don’t want to think he’s a crook either. That’s not why I’m staying out of it, though. Like I said, I’m personally involved. I know you all. I like your family. I . . .’ She shrugged. ‘I couldn’t do it. Truthfully – even if I wasn’t involved, I wouldn’t do it. It’s just wrong for me.’

  ‘Are you absolutely sure about this?’ Joe’s eyes held hers and she returned his gaze confidently.

  ‘Positive. Even though Alo is pissed off at me.’

  ‘What about getting a job at another paper? Wasn’t this your passport in?’

  ‘In to what? More of the same sort of thing? I told you, I’m not interested. Something will come up and it’ll be right for me. This isn’t.’

  ‘Are you really doing this because of us?’ He was standing beside her now, his eyes searching her face.

  ‘I care about your family,’ she said.

  ‘Not them.’ He cupped her face with his hands. ‘Us. Me, you and the way we are together. The way you make me feel. The way I hope I make you feel.’

  ‘I’m not doing it because of us,’ she said. ‘I’m doing it because of me. Because of who I am. As for us . . .’ Suddenly her smile was wide. ‘I’m glad there’s still an us. I’ve never felt as right with a person in my whole life as I feel with you.’

  He smiled too. ‘That’s good,’ he said, and as he pulled her towards him, she’d never felt more sure of herself in her life.

  Chapter 35

  The town was thronged with people celebrating the Spring Festival. The farmers’ market stalls were set up in the plaza, there were bouncy castles and other attractions at the schools and playing fields, and there was a steady stream of visitors to Perry Andrews’ Ardbawn Through the Ages exhibition of photos and newspaper cuttings.

  The festival had been officially opened a few hours earlier by Paudie O’Malley, who said that he was proud of coming from such a vibrant town, and proud of counting most of the people in it as neighbours and friends. He said that he was glad to announce that the consortium his company was part of had won the Middle East telecoms bid, and that although they had been criticised for their lavish expenditure during the process, there was no evidence of any unethical dealings, as had recently been suggested in certain elements of the media. However, he added, they’d be revising their standards regarding entertainment in the future. He’d announced the company’s increased sponsorship of the football and hurling teams, as well as additional sponsorship for all of Ardbawn’s sporting organisations. He said that it was good to see so many young people, including his grandson, involved in sports, and that it had been great to see a big write-up about their success in the Irish Journal recently. He looked down at the crowd when he said this and his eyes met Sheridan’s. She grinned at him and gave him a thumbs-up sign.

  She’d written the piece as part of her assignment with her new employer. The day after she’d spoken to Joe at the riverbank, while she’d been sitting in the offices of the Central News, her mobile had rung. It was Jimmy Ahearne, the sports editor of the City Scope’s biggest rival, and he was asking her if she’d be interested in a position on their sports desk. He’d said that he’d been reading her tweets and her recent blog post about preparations for the next Olympic Games and he’d been very impressed by them. She’d had to remain very calm as she said yes and then agreed to meet him for a chat, but DJ had seen the beaming smile split her face and guessed that he was about to lose his temporary reporter.

  She’d experienced a certain regret at leaving the Central News, but when she walked into her new office in Dublin’s East Point Business Park, with its views over the glittering waters of the bay, she felt as though she was coming home. The buzz hit her as soon as she sat down at her desk, and she already knew what she wanted to write about: the upcoming tour by the Irish cricket team as well as the continued success of an exceptional young swimmer. She planned to keep up her tweets and her blog too, and she’d also pitched the idea to Jimmy of giving more space to junior sports reporting, to highlighting promising talent and what was happening to support it in local communities.

  Her first piece had been about the Ardbawn teams and had received good feedback, not only from Ardbawn (where the Journal’s circulation had quadrupled on the day the piece was published, which caused DJ to phone her and warn her that too many stories about Ardbawn would ruin him), but also nationwide. Talia had texted, reminding her that she’d always said Sheridan would find the right job (and telling her that finding the right man had been more than an added bonus); Alice and Pat were full of praise and congratulations for her dogged determination over the last few months, while her two brothers (who were big into social networking because of their sporting backgrounds) sent complimentary messages and re-tweeted links to her pieces. She’d basked in their good wishes as she settled into the new job she absolutely loved.

  But, she thought, as she stood looking at the photos in the exhibition, it was nice to be back in Ardbawn, nice to see Nina and DJ and Shimmy and Myra, who had returned to the Central News, though having struck a deal with DJ so that she could work from home too. She’d even met Des Browne for the first time. He wasn’t slow about telling her that although she was a good writer, her reports needed more factual information. Statistics, he suggested, would give them an additional authority. She’d nodded gravely while he lectured her, and only managed to get away from him eventually by pretending she’d seen someone she desperately needed to talk to.

  ‘I hear you’re going to Paudie O’Malley’s tonight.’

  She jumped and turned around. Ritz Boland was behind her, looking as stunning as ever, her long hair gleaming in the shaft of sunlight coming through the window.

  ‘Hi, Ritz,’ she said. ‘Yes, I’ll be there. How about you?’

  Ritz nodded. ‘Everyone from the organising committee was invited. It’s very good of him.’

  ‘Indeed it is.’

  ‘And you’re invited because . . .?’ Ritz arched an impeccably shaped eyebrow.

  ‘Because I’ve got to know Paudie over the last few weeks,’ she said. ‘Because I used to work for the Central News. And because I’m going out with Joe.’ She smiled as she said this, and Ritz suddenly smiled too.

  ‘I heard about that all right,’ she said. ‘You Dublin girls. Coming down and robbing us of all our good men.’

  ‘Sorry,’ said Sheridan unapologetically.

  ‘Oh look, from the moment I saw the two of you together I knew,’ said Ritz. ‘There was a chemistry . . .’

  ‘There was, wasn’t there,’ agreed Sheridan. ‘It knocked me sideways. Still does.’

  ‘I think you’ll be good for him,’ Ritz told her. ‘You’re different to the rest of us. You’re so confident. You breezed in, totally disarmed DJ, wrote some great stories – including the school siege – and now you’ve even got Ardbawn on the national pages. You’re amazing. It’s like no matter what you do you succeed.’

  ‘Gosh.’ Sheridan looked bemused. ‘I don’t think of it like that at all.’

  ‘You should,’ said Ritz. ‘You’re just a natural-born winner.’

  Sheridan laughed. ‘I’m not, but thank you.’

  ‘You’re welcome,’ said Ritz. ‘See you later.’

  Sheridan watched her walk away and then turned her attention back to the photos. She saw the ones she’d chosen from Nina
’s collection. They were a mixture of black-and-white photos from the 1950s showing young women in printed blouses and long shorts and men in shirts and equally long shorts standing beside heavy bicycles, their hair blowing in the breeze and a look of excitement on their faces. The photos had been taken at various locations around the town and the surrounding area and they were all labelled ‘Ardbawn Cycling Club’. Sheridan had chosen them because the town was so easily identifiable, but also because the people in the photographs looked so eager and excited about their futures. And because although their clothes and hairstyles (and make-up in the case of the women) were different now, people were generally still the same. They still had hopes and dreams, and although they knew that not everything they wanted would come to pass, there was still a whole world of adventure stretching out ahead of them. At the time she’d picked them she hadn’t thought much about her own dreams. But, she thought, sometimes we end up living dreams that we didn’t even know we had.

  Paudie had organised a meal in March Manor for the festival committee. This included Hayley Goodwin, Peggy Merchant and Nina Fallon, as well as Ritz, DJ, Perry Andrews and the young garda, Charlie Sweetman. Robbie Dunston, the platinum-selling rock star, had also come along and had promised to sing a few of his greatest hits for them. Paudie’s family were there too. Sheridan had been nervous about meeting them – she hadn’t seen any of them since finding out about Elva and Sean. She had, though, seen Paudie, who’d dropped into the newspaper offices before she left and thanked her for all her hard work. Then he’d spoken to her about his family’s history.

  ‘JJ tells me that you trashed what you’d written about us,’ he said.

  ‘Like I said to him, it’s not what I do.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Paudie.

  ‘Maybe someone else will write about it some day,’ Sheridan warned him. ‘After all, Sean is very much in the public eye still. And I hear he’s been signed up for more episodes of Chandler’s Park, so he’s bound to be in the news again.’

  ‘I’m not sure that Sean wants his involvement to come out either,’ said Paudie. ‘It’s not a story that shows him in a particularly good light, no matter how much his publicist might try to turn it around. It was a sad time in all our lives. Sometimes you just have to move on.’

  Sheridan nodded. She felt she knew a lot about moving on. She was getting good at it herself.

  ‘I’m sorry about your job at the City Scope,’ Paudie said. ‘It wasn’t my decision to get rid of you.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘It turned out to be a very bad decision on the editor’s part,’ he said. ‘Making you available to our competitors!’

  ‘It didn’t seem like that at first,’ Sheridan confessed. ‘None of them wanted to hire me.’

  ‘But you’ve got a great job now,’ Paudie said. ‘So things have worked out well all round.’

  ‘I know.’ She grinned. ‘The last few horoscopes I wrote for the Central News talked about not holding back and then reaching for the stars. I don’t know what made me write them. But next thing I knew I was offered the job. I was thinking to myself then that maybe I should stay as the resident astrologer.’

  Paudie laughed. ‘Perhaps we can call on your talents again in the future.’

  ‘Myra is way better than me,’ said Sheridan. ‘She’s so patient with the contributors. I was a bit too demanding sometimes.’

  ‘You were fine,’ said Paudie. ‘You’re a good person, Sheridan Gray. And a great competitor.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘And I’m delighted you’re going out with my son.’

  She blushed. ‘It’s early days . . .’

  ‘True.’ His eyes twinkled.

  ‘. . . and I’m living in Dublin again.’

  ‘I like that about you,’ said Paudie. ‘No giving it all up for love.’

  ‘I do love Joe,’ said Sheridan. ‘I’ve never loved anyone the way I love him. But I need something for myself too, and that’s my job. Besides, he spends a lot of time in Dublin. So it’s working out well for us.’

  ‘Good,’ said Paudie. ‘He deserves to be happy. So do you.’

  ‘I am,’ Sheridan told him. ‘I really am.’

  It had been a long time since March Manor had been used for a function, and the festival committee walked around the house with interest, commenting on the ornate plasterwork, the elegant drapes, the crystal chandeliers and the variety of paintings that hung on the walls. It was all tastefully done, they agreed. Paudie had an eye for style and beauty.

  Nina Fallon thought so too as she stood in one of the drawing rooms that looked out over the fields behind the house. She’d been reluctant to come to the dinner, feeling uncomfortable about seeing Paudie now that their past was shared. But he’d simply welcomed her as part of the group and hadn’t said anything to her to make her feel ill at ease.

  ‘It’s a lovely view.’

  She whirled around and was, for the first time in years, face to face with him alone.

  ‘Yes.’ Her voice was croaky. ‘Stunning.’

  ‘You have a nice view from the guesthouse too.’

  ‘Hopefully that will help it sell,’ said Nina.

  Paudie looked at her sympathetically. ‘You’re still going through with that?’

  ‘I have to,’ she said. ‘Sean wants his share, and he’s entitled to it.’

  ‘Seems harsh.’

  ‘Life can be harsh.’

  ‘True. But that house has been in your family for years.’

  ‘It’s only a building when all’s said and done,’ said Nina. ‘And maybe it’s a good thing.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘I was getting tired of it,’ she admitted. ‘It’s tough work in difficult times. Even in good times. I don’t want to look after people all my life. There are other things I can do.’

  ‘Oh.’ Paudie looked surprised.

  ‘I don’t know what yet,’ said Nina. ‘I haven’t decided. But there should be enough money left over after the house is sold and the mortgage repaid for me to spend a little time doing something else. Travelling, maybe. I always wanted to travel but it was never really possible when I was running the Bawnee River. I might study too,’ she added. ‘I was thinking of taking a course in behavioural science.’

  ‘Really?’

  She nodded. ‘There are so many things I haven’t done. Selling up gives me a chance to do them.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Paudie, I have to tell you that I didn’t realise what was going on between Sean and Elva. When it all came out, the only thing I thought about was how to keep things as they were supposed to be. I let Sean manipulate me into forgiving him. I wanted to pretend that it had never happened. Only you can’t do that, can you? Sooner or later you have to face up to it.’

  ‘There’s no chance of you and Sean getting back together?’

  She shook her head. ‘I’ve moved on from Sean. Maybe I should have done it before, but the circumstances were different then. The kids are upset, but they’re grown up, they have their own lives to worry about. Sean’s going from strength to strength in his TV career. I don’t begrudge him that. I’m glad for him. But I’m glad for me too.’

  ‘Did you tell Alan and Chrissie about Sean and Elva?’

  ‘No. I couldn’t see the point.’

  ‘You’re one of the most philosophical people I’ve ever met,’ said Paudie. ‘I thought you’d be bitter about everything.’

  ‘At first I was, but then I realised there was no point,’ Nina said. ‘It doesn’t change what happens, and all it does is eat away at your insides.’

  Paudie nodded slowly. ‘I was bitter too,’ he said. ‘Bitter that Elva needed Sean more than me. Bitter that she was prepared to live a lie because even though she loved him she wanted what I could give her.’

  ‘And do you still feel that way?’

  ‘Strangely, no,’ said Paudie. ‘It’s quite weird, I suppose, because it’s been with me for ever, but ever since JJ came home and we talked about it, I�
��ve felt differently.’

  ‘Maybe sharing helped.’

  ‘Maybe.’ Paudie sounded doubtful.

  ‘You were hiding it from them,’ Nina said. ‘That probably wasn’t a good thing in the long run.’

  ‘Probably not,’ agreed Paudie. ‘I guess I wasn’t great as a father.’

  ‘Don’t be silly,’ said Nina. ‘You did your best.’

  ‘My best wasn’t quite good enough.’

  ‘Oh, look, when it comes to being parents, we’re all muddling our way through,’ Nina told him. ‘We think we’re doing the right thing, but sometimes we make mistakes. They get over it, though. I’ve got two great children. And yours have all turned out OK.’

  ‘I have four wonderful children,’ he said, his eyes fixed firmly on her.

  ‘Yes,’ she agreed. ‘Each one of them deserves you as a dad.’

  ‘I wish I’d talked to you like this before,’ said Paudie. ‘These few minutes, this conversation . . . it’s made such a difference to me.’

  ‘You can talk to me any time you like,’ said Nina. ‘Though I could be in South America or somewhere equally exotic by the time you want to chat again.’

  ‘Come to dinner some evening,’ he suggested. ‘When the house isn’t full of other people.’

  She looked at him quizzically.

  ‘Just dinner,’ he said quickly.

  ‘I’d love to.’

  ‘Excellent,’ said Paudie. ‘I’ll look forward to it. Now I’d better join the rest of the guests. Robbie is going to start belting them out in a few minutes, and he doesn’t like to have his audience arriving late.’

  The music could be heard outside of the house and across the huge swathe of meadow behind it.

  ‘It’s kind of bearable at this distance,’ said Sheridan. ‘I can’t imagine what damage he’s doing to the committee’s collective eardrums inside.’

  Joe chuckled. ‘Most of them were fans. They would’ve worshipped at Robbie Dunston’s altar.’

  ‘It’s not my thing,’ said Sheridan. ‘But he’s a nice man. It’s hard to imagine him snorting coke and smashing guitars and doing all those rock-star things.’