No Ordinary Love

by Anita Notaro

  By the time I got back to the office it was after six. Even now, Pete always looked at me with delight when I returned, as if surprised I’d remembered him – or perhaps that was just my imagination: my old need to be needed resurfacing. Still he sat by the door, not moving, waiting, hoping he was to be included in the next adventure, so I picked up my messages and said, ‘Let’s go home, Pete,’ then I locked up and we headed for the bike, just as my phone rang.

  ‘I just got my first two scripts,’ Maddy announced. ‘They’re great. I’ve loads of scenes. Can you believe it? And I’ve news, so will I swing by your place?’

  ‘Maddy, no one “swings by” Bray,’ I told her. I really wanted to see her, because I knew she’d cheer me up, but I was tired too; the home visits had taken their toll.

  ‘I’ve got mini Aero bars, a tub of cookie-dough ice-cream and a bucket of popcorn.’ She knew how to get to me. ‘And a T-bone-steak bone for Pete.’

  ‘Sold,’ I told her. ‘It was the bone that did it. I’ve neglected poor Pete all day.’

  ‘Great, see you in about an hour?’

  ‘Yep. Will you stay?’

  ‘No, better not. I’ve a wardrobe call at seven thirty, followed by a hair and make-up appointment.’

  ‘Oooh, get you,’ I teased. ‘You won’t want to be seen with me next.’

  ‘Why do you think I’m coming out to the sticks to meet you?’ She was still laughing as I hung up and wound my way into the last of the rush-hour traffic.

  I knew Maddy had arrived as soon as I heard her car at the end of the lane. So did Pete, but he simply wagged his tail and kept his eye on the door.

  ‘Wait until I tell you what Porky Pauline had to say when I told her,’ she announced when we were ensconced on the couch with a shopful of goodies. Of course, she had to act the whole thing out, which had me in stitches. ‘Can you believe how bitchy she was in the end? Hinting that I must have known someone and all that. I wanted to leave the mark of my hand on her fat ass, I can tell you, but you’d have been proud of me, babe, I kept my dignity.’

  ‘And not often you do,’ I told her. ‘You normally act first and think later.’

  ‘Yes, well, I would’ve done, but now that I’m famous, darling’ – she flicked her hair – ‘it might end up on the front page of some awful tabloid.’ She stopped. ‘Are you OK? You look a bit frazzled.’

  ‘Just a heavy day.’ I rubbed my eyes. ‘So, what other news have you?’

  ‘Well, rehearsals start on Friday, then we shoot the first six episodes by the end of the month, so it’ll be frantic. Keep the last Friday free, by the way, because that’s my last day for a while, and I intend going out on the town and getting pissed, with you and Clodagh in tow,’ she announced. ‘I’m not used to being so sensible, but early mornings on camera mean I’m going to have to cut back on all the stodge.’ She popped a huge spoon of ice-cream into her mouth. ‘Last blow-out,’ she said as I poked her in the ribs. ‘And no booze between now and then. Oh, except maybe on Friday night, because Ronan asked me to go to a movie with him. Without his granny – can you believe it?’

  We spent an hour deciding what she should wear (new print dress from H&M), whether she should keep her hair up or down (down, sexier) and if she should drive (definitely not, because then he’d have to drop her home and she might get to invite him in for coffee and then she could jump on him). We laughed our way through the nosh, and by the time she left at ten thirty, I was feeling much better.

  Next morning, when I got to the office Emily was already waiting, looking excited and apprehensive in equal measure.

  ‘So?’ I asked as we sat down. ‘How’ve you been?’

  ‘Good, thanks.’ She looked as if she was bursting to tell me something.

  ‘And how’s Rover?’

  ‘What? Oh, he’s good, yeah.’ She seemed distracted. ‘But I need your help with my other problem.’

  That’s what I’d been afraid of. I really felt like I couldn’t take on another life at the moment, what with Dinny’s future resting on my already weighed-down shoulders.

  ‘I’ve been doing some research, you see.’ Emily’s eyes lit up.

  ‘About your birth mother?’ I already knew the answer.

  ‘Yes, and I’ve found her address.’

  ‘I see. Emily, I think you need to be careful—’

  ‘Oh, I will be, don’t worry. That’s why I want you to come with me.’

  ‘With you? Where?’

  ‘To London. I’ve decided to surprise her.’

  ‘I don’t think that’s necessarily the best approach,’ I cautioned.

  ‘Oh it is. I just know it. She’s living alone during the week; I’ve hired a private detective, you see.’ For someone normally so shy and retiring, she was a powerhouse of energy. ‘So I reckon she must be lonely—’

  ‘Emily, that doesn’t necessarily follow.’

  ‘I’ve given this a great deal of thought, Lulu, and I want to meet her.’ Her eyes were shining. ‘I need to speak to her and ask questions and, for once in my life, I’m not going to take my usual softly-softly approach. I’m going to check that she’s home, then knock on her door – that way, she can’t avoid me. And the only way I can find the courage to go through with it is if you’re beside me.’

  I couldn’t believe it. Emily, who had been told what to do all her life, was not for turning on this one. She offered to fly me first class, put me up in a five-star hotel and purchase an open-ended ticket so that I could stay on if I wanted. Consequently, she was very hard to say no to, even with all my experience.

  My next clients were John the oncologist and Gilbert the Yorkie, whom I’d only seen once before. Gilbert had turned savage, apparently, and had bitten a little girl who lived nearby. Her parents were threatening to sue. God, I loved simple problems like this. I was in my element for the next two hours.

  As soon as he left I wrote up my notes, then went to make myself a strong black coffee before I rang Emily, hoping to have one last try at persuading her to re-think her happy-families plan. Mary stopped me en route.

  ‘Fax just in for you.’ She handed me a ream of pages.

  ‘Thanks, want a coffee?’

  ‘I have the kettle on, actually, so I’ll bring one in to you if you like?’

  ‘That’d be great, you’re a star. I have a difficult call to make.’ As soon as I said it, I noticed the fax was from Emily. My heart sank when I saw the lists of flight availabilities for the next several weeks as well as print-outs of the facilities at several top hotels. Just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, I read her last paragraph, where she told me how much it meant to her that I had agreed to go with her, how this was the most important thing she’d ever done for herself and how she’d never had a real friend before. She wrote that, in agreeing to be there for her, I’d given her a new sense of self-worth, and if she finally put her past to rest and was able to be at peace with herself, it would be all thanks to me. It was game, set and match to Emily.

  28

  EVEN AN AMAZING DRIVE HOME ALONG THE COAST IN THE LAST OF the brilliant winter sunlight that seemed to have glued itself to Ireland for the past few days didn’t cheer me up, so I stopped at the local takeaway for food, then at the garage next door for dessert, then at the off licence, in the hope of attracting one of the girls out to Bray for a girly night. As it turned out, Maddy’s phone was off, which was unusual, and Clodagh wasn’t answering, so I ate as much as I could cram down my throat in three minutes, I was so hungry, and was just about to uncork the wine when Pete’s ears went up and he suddenly barked like mad and shot towards the door. I decided to let him out, and he tore off into the trees, growling. I was immediately sorry I’d done it, because now I was completely alone. I waited a while to see if he’d stop, but he was sounding more agitated than earlier, so I decided to ring my neighbours.

  ‘Jill, I’m really sorry, my dog’s gone mad,’ I told her as soon as I’d introduced myself. ‘I just wanted to check that you w
ere home?’ I felt like a complete idiot.

  ‘Yes, I’m here. Jack is out, but listen, I’ll walk down to you now, just to check.’

  ‘Oh, no, please,’ I said, but she’d hung up, and within seconds I saw the light of a torch and she called out to me almost immediately.

  ‘It’s only me,’ I heard, followed by ‘Hello Pete, come to meet me, have you? There’s a good boy.’ Suddenly she was at my gate.

  ‘Jill, I’m so sorry to have troubled you, I don’t know what I was thinking. I just got a bit of a fright when the dog went mad.’

  ‘Not a problem, that’s what neighbours are for. Actually, I was just about to pour myself a cup of tea, so if you want to make it up to me, I’ll have one with you.’ She smiled. ‘Although let’s have a walk around first, just to check, OK? That way, if there is anyone hanging about looking for trouble, they’ll know there’s more than one of us here. Why don’t you grab your coat, it’s gone quite chilly tonight.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ I still felt bad about calling her out for no reason. ‘It’s just that Pete isn’t one of those dogs who barks for no reason, which is why it freaks me out a bit when it happens.’

  ‘No problem at all, the fresh air will do me good; I was melting by the fire anyway. You’re a great dog.’ She stroked Pete, and he lapped it up. We walked the perimeter of our little woodland, but the dog was relaxed, all he did was sniff and bound around the place, tail wagging at this unexpected romp, so we came indoors after a few minutes and I put the kettle on.

  ‘Actually, I was just about to have a glass of wine – it’s been one of those days.’ I pointed to the empty ice-cream tub. ‘Will you join me?’

  ‘Love to,’ she said, and I showed her around the van and we chatted for half an hour or so. When she left she made me promise to ring them any time I heard anything. ‘We’re nearly always there, and we stay up half the night as well, so you’re not disturbing us in the slightest.’ She waved, and I waited until I saw her close the little wooden gate at the end of her garden. I was delighted that Maddy had made me introduce myself; it was nice to have them close by. I gave up on the alcohol and decided that a good night’s sleep was what I really needed.

  * * *

  By the end of the week my brain was fried, and there was still the small matter of my meeting with Joan Lehane. I could have done without it after all the angst of the previous days, but it was yet another thing I’d taken on board that I hadn’t had to, and Dinny was ringing me practically on the hour to make sure I was still going. Last night I’d finally told him to back off and, God love him, he’d been mortified.

  As it turned out, I was at the Shelbourne Hotel way too early, so I strolled around St Stephen’s Green and was heartened to see snowdrops and crocuses already pushing their heads up through the claggy black soil. The park was full of muffled-up families feeding the ducks and students lying about on the grass, damp though it must have been.

  Ten minutes before the hour, I settled myself near the door in the foyer of the hotel and waited. I recognized Joan Lehane immediately, and I have to say she was a good-looking woman, much younger and trendier than I’d imagined.

  ‘Hello, you must be Joan. I’m Lulu.’ I stood up, in no doubt that she was the person I was due to meet. She was tall, with shoulder-length chestnut hair and, although her coat and jeans were funky, they were beautifully cut, and her boots and handbag were not from the high street. I found it impossible to place her beside Dinny.

  ‘Hello, I hope I’m not late.’ She smiled. ‘I got caught up in the magic of Grafton Street, I’m afraid. My God, Dublin has changed so much,’ she marvelled.

  ‘It certainly has,’ I agreed. ‘How long since you’ve been here?’

  ‘A long time.’ She smiled again. ‘Should we go get some afternoon tea?’

  ‘Yes, there are tables just through here.’ I led the way, and we settled into a quiet corner. Most of Dublin was still grappling with the January sales, I reckoned.

  Once we’d ordered, I wasn’t sure where to begin, and since I – on Dinny’s behalf at least – had asked for the meeting, I felt obliged to start the conversation.

  ‘So, how do you know Denis?’ Joan took the matter out of my hands.

  I explained how we’d met, and she threw back her head and laughed. ‘You’re a pet shrink? My God, Ireland has moved on. When I lived here people wouldn’t have come near you if you’d been seeing a shrink yourself, never mind having your dog’s head examined.’

  ‘The Celtic Tiger has a lot to answer for,’ I told her.

  ‘And how have you ended up meeting me on his behalf?’

  I explained how we’d become friends and how, eventually, he’d confided in me about his past. Her words, when they came, surprised me by their lack of bitterness or condemnation.

  ‘He abandoned me at a time when I was the most vulnerable I’ve ever been in my life, but he gave me the most amazing daughter and, once I survived the whole thing, I knew I could cope with anything. It was awful, initially. I’d no money, my parents were horrified – mainly because he was so much older than me – and assumed I’d give the child up. I’d no friends either, I discovered. There was no bigger crime in rural Ireland at the time really, except perhaps if he’d been a priest.’

  ‘That bad?’ It was hard to believe – even though I’d heard all the stories about the influence of the Church and the shame such things were considered to bring on families.

  ‘I’m afraid so, as much because we were a well-respected, middle-class family as anything. Pillars of the community and all that. My father, in particular, was scandalized. I think it spoiled me for ever in his eyes.’

  ‘So what happened?’

  ‘Oh, I hung around, kept hoping it would all work out but, with Denis’s mother ruling the roost, that was never going to happen. Eventually, I couldn’t take the pressure at home or the whispering every time I stepped outside the door, so I took myself off to England, like so many others at the time. I was lucky, I had an old friend – Marion, a distant relation actually – and her parents let me stay until the baby was born. They also got me a job – not an easy thing to find, either – and I saved every penny, and when the baby was born I found work at night, and Marion was studying so she was happy to earn a little money by keeping an eye on her once I’d fed and changed her and put her to bed. I worked seven nights a week, every week, and it paid off. I was moved to front of house in a short time, and within a year I was managing the restaurant. It meant I got to spend all day with my baby, and by the time Catherine was starting school I had enough money – only barely, mind you – to buy a small flat and pay a proper childminder. Then my father died and my mother sent me a large amount of money. I think she felt guilty, to be honest. She tried to get me to come home, but by that stage nothing would have persuaded me to go back.’ She sipped her tea. ‘That’s about it, really. I’ve had – have – a very good life, and I own my own restaurant now and it’s been very successful, and I’m happy, and my daughter is the best thing that ever happened to me.’

  ‘I’m so glad it all worked out, but just seeing you it’s hard to imagine that it wouldn’t.’

  ‘Oh, I wasn’t always so confident, believe me. I spent a good many years with my head down, working as hard as I could, never going out, not spending a penny on myself.’ She looked down at herself. ‘All this finery came much, much later.’ It was an old-fashioned thing to say, and in a way it summed her up. She was very proper, although each time she smiled I sensed a hint of mischief about her.

  ‘So how is the bold Mr Cassidy? Still the same, I imagine?’

  ‘Well, that depends on what you imagine, I guess. He still lives in Wicklow – he bought some land – still has a twinkle in his eye, and we liked each other as soon as we met, I think.’

  ‘Is he still as handsome and debonair as ever?’

  I almost choked on my scone. Neither were words I’d ever associate with Dinny.

  ‘He came to my Christmas drinks, and
he still had an eye for the ladies.’ It was as diplomatic as I could be.

  ‘Did he ever marry?’

  ‘No, and I think he very much regrets his actions now where you were concerned,’ I told her. ‘I believe he did go to see you at one stage?’

  ‘It was about a year too late, I think now, looking back. I really struggled for the first year or two on my own. I was so lonely. But then it somehow turned around – I suppose things always do – and I’d just realized I was getting on fine when he appeared, thinking he could just apologize and pick up where we’d left off. But by that time I’d too much pride.’

  ‘I can understand that, you’d been through a lot.’

  ‘I loved him so much,’ she said simply. ‘And that continued for years. Eventually I started dating. Then I met someone and he asked me to marry him but, somehow, no man ever matched up to my first love.’ She smiled at me. ‘So what’s he like now?’

  I had no idea what to say. ‘Well, he’s older . . .’ It was the most ridiculous answer. ‘He’s in his sixties . . .’

  ‘It’s stupid, but in my head he’s still the same as he was. I probably wouldn’t recognize him if he walked in now.’ She glanced around.

  Don’t tempt fate, I wanted to shout – knowing Dinny, he could be lurking behind a plant. But all I said was, ‘He’s a lovely man, very kind, makes me laugh all the time. I think you’d enjoy what he’s become.’

  ‘Sure look at me. I’m forty, and every time I look in the mirror I don’t recognize myself. I’m a mass of wrinkles.’