by Melissa Hill
“Sorry about this, pet,” Tara told him as she lifted him out of the chair and strapped him into his buggy, “but the scaredy cat next door needs our help.”
“Ca!” Toby pointed out happily, as the two of them passed the cattery on their way through the garden to Luke’s house.
Leaving Luke to keep an eye on Toby (or indeed the other way round) Tara was in and out of the place within a few minutes, having opened and closed all the old cupboards and checked in various nooks and crannies, but there were no “visitors” to be seen.
“I know you think this is hilarious, and I don’t blame you,” Luke said, when Tara eventually reappeared outside, “but I can’t help it. My mother used to freak whenever one appeared in our house when I was younger, so I suppose I’ve carried the fear since then.” He shrugged. “Stupid I know but . . .”
Tara was sorely tempted to keep teasing, but a look at his mortified expression told her it was unfair to embarrass him any further. “Like you said, it’s a genuine fear and most of us have them.”
“It’s stupid,” he insisted and Tara suspected he was trying to convince himself more than anyone else. “I know they’re only tiny, but . . .” he winced again, “those bloody tails!”
“Well, they seem to have gone into hiding now. But I doubt that’s the last you’ll see of them so you really should think about setting down traps.”
“Ugh!” Luke shuddered.
“Well, if you’re not up to it, you’ll have to get somebody else in to do it. The place has been vacant for so long now, I’m surprised it isn’t ten times worse than it is,” she added thoughtfully.
“You know the place?”
“Yep. I grew up here in the village – and me and my friends used to come up here when we were teenagers to drink and chat and . . . you know.”
Luke smiled. “Right.”
“That’s why I got such a fright the other day. Nobody’s lived there for so long that I just assumed –”
“I know. And I still feel bad for shouting at you. But to be honest, the renovation work is not going as well as I’d thought.” He rolled his eyes. “Those bloody TV programmes make it all look so easy.”
“True,” Tara laughed. “In twenty-four hours, you can make your rundown cottage into a show-house mansion! It’s not quite the same when you get down and dirty with it, is it? Although in fairness, I’d love to have a house of my own to decorate. The one we’re in now is rented. But it’ll be a long time before I can afford to get any house in Dublin, let alone one I can restore to its former glory.”
“Oh, you don’t live in the village any more?”
“No, I’m just looking after the place for Liz. Oh, and speaking of looking after the place, I’d better go – this little fella will be needing his lunch soon.”
“Well, look, thanks a million . . . um . . . I’m sorry, I don’t know your –”
“It’s Tara.”
“Tara. I owe you a cuppa, only I don’t even have a kettle in there yet. Speaking of which, can you recommend anywhere in the village for food? I was in that coffee shop yesterday, but they do all this organic muck, and I’m not really into –”
“Why don’t you come back next door with me?” The words were out before she realised it. “I was just having lunch anyway. I could do you a fry-up or an omelette or something.”
“Are you sure? I’d love that, but I really don’t want to impose.”
“Don’t be silly. After the shock you’ve had, you need a strong cup of tea,” she added mischievously.
“I won’t argue with that,” Luke said, his form greatly improved as he closed the back door of his cottage behind him. “And I’d kill for a decent cuppa. Those choco-mocco things they serve in that café taste like shaggin’ dishwater!”
Chapter 15
So far, the weekend was not going well.
On Friday morning, Liz and Eric had left for Belfast (picking up Maeve on the way) and Eric had been largely uncommunicative throughout the drive north.
Understandably, he hadn’t exactly been in high spirits since learning about his uncle’s death, but at the same time he barely knew the man. Liz had never met him; in fact, Pierce hadn’t even been in attendance at their wedding three years ago, so she knew he and Eric weren’t close.
No, Liz knew her husband well enough to know that there was something else bothering him – something other than the death of an estranged relation. And, over the course of the weekend, she hoped she’d get the opportunity to find out exactly what that was.
“It’ll be nice to get some time on our own, just the two of us, won’t it?” she’d said while packing a weekend bag for them to take to the hotel. “It’s ages since we’ve been anywhere without Toby.”
“It’s my uncle’s bloody funeral, Liz,” he’d replied shortly. “It’s hardly a romantic weekend away.”
“Oh, I know that, love – that’s not what I meant.” Liz could have kicked herself for sounding so unfeeling. But she’d been thinking out loud more than anything else. “I was just saying that it will be strange the two of us being away from Toby for the first time, that’s all.”
In Belfast, after the removal Friday evening, they’d spent much of the night at the family home, before eventually getting back to their hotel around midnight. So there had been very little opportunity for Liz to get her husband on his own and have the chat she so badly wanted.
It was only late Saturday evening after the funeral, once they’d again left Maeve with her family, that she and Eric got any time on their own.
Liz suggested going for somewhere local for dinner.
“I don’t know if I fancy it, Liz – I’m fairly whacked after today.”
“I know but we haven’t eaten anything other than salad sandwiches all weekend,” she argued. “All right then, forget about going out – let’s just have something here in the hotel.”
Eventually Eric relented, and now, possibly for the first time since the birth of their eighteen-month-old son, Liz and her husband, the man she loved with all her heart, were alone. But now that they were finally alone – sitting across from one another in the hotel dining room, Liz had no idea what to say to him.
Eric seemed miles away, his thoughts clearly still elsewhere. Should she risk it, she wondered, her heart rate accelerating. Should she just get it over and done with and come straight out and ask him if he was seeing Emma? If he had fathered her unborn child? Tears prickled at her eyes as she realised how unhappy they both seemed. This was no way for a married couple to behave. Tara had been wrong; far from bringing them closer, the time on their own seemed to only highlight just how far apart they were.
Still, she had to try. Something was wrong and she needed to fix it.
“I spoke to Tara on the phone earlier,” she said, trying to sound light-hearted. “She and Toby are having a great time, and he doesn’t seem to be missing us at all! It was good of her to baby-sit him, wasn’t it?”
“Good old reliable Tara,” Eric replied, and Liz thought she noticed an edge to his tone.
“The dogs are fine too, which is great,” Liz babbled on, deciding to talk about things that made her feel comfortable, normal everyday things. “I must admit, I did wonder how Toby would get on without us. He’s not used to being left with other people and I thought he’d be a bit teary.”
“Well, if Tara says he’s fine, then I’m sure he is,” Eric replied in a rather bored voice.
“Still, he’s been a bit troublesome lately,” she said. “I hope he hasn’t been getting up to mischief.” When Eric didn’t reply, she continued, “Yes, it was really great of Tara to offer to baby-sit this weekend, and she also said that if ever you and I want to go away for a weekend in a hotel somewhere, she’d love to do it again.”
“Did she offer to pay for the bloody hotel too?”
This time there was no mistaking his tone and Liz frowned. “What do you mean by that?”
“Well, Tara seems to enjoy throwing her money around, doesn’t she? The fa
ncy clothes and fancy car. Next she’ll be buying a mansion in Dalkey.”
Liz was taken aback. She’d never heard Eric criticise his old friend like that. “Tara works very hard for her money, Eric. Same as you, me and everyone else. And I don’t think anyone can begrudge her anything, considering.” She looked away. “Look, Tara was just being kind, and all she did was offer to baby-sit in order to give us the opportunity to get away now and again. We’ve barely had a second to ourselves since we moved to Castlegate. I’m always busy with Toby and the kennels, and if you’re not working, you’re out with . . .” She let her voice trail off, afraid that if she mentioned his nights out with his work friends or with Colm that it would sound like she was nagging. And Liz didn’t want that, not when she was trying to get their relationship back on track. “But if you don’t think we should accept her generosity again, then we won’t. But you know as well as I do that we have nobody else to ask.”
It was a barely disguised jibe at the fact that Maeve McGrath had never offered to baby-sit her grandson; in fact, she had never gone out of her way to spend any time with him at all. It hurt Liz that Toby’s one and only grandmother wasn’t really interested in him. Granted she wasn’t interested in Eric’s sister’s kids either but they lived much further away in Kerry. With Toby she didn’t really have an excuse.
“I know what you’re getting at,” Eric said. “And yes, maybe Mum should help out some more. But she’s getting on now, Liz. She wouldn’t be able to handle Toby.”
“I suppose.”
In truth, when push came to shove, Liz knew she wouldn’t be altogether happy with Maeve looking after her baby. The woman was guarded and standoffish and didn’t seem to have a friendly bone in her body. Liz only put up with her because she was Toby’s only grandmother, but the woman’s continued refusal to visit their home (supposedly because of the dogs) was becoming annoying.
But she didn’t want this to spark off a disagreement between herself and Eric, so she decided to change the subject.
“How’s your lamb?”
Eric had so far spent much of the meal simply picking at his food. “It’s OK, nothing special.”
“Here, have some of my sea bass,” she offered, pushing the plate towards him. It was pathetic the way she kept trying to ingratiate herself with him, but she didn’t know what else to do. Tara wouldn’t behave like this; no, if she were in this situation, she would just come right out and ask Eric what the problem was, instead of just sitting there, timid as a mouse, pretending that all was well. Liz cursed her own cowardice, cursed her inability to confront the situation head-on and ask her husband what the hell was wrong with him.
The problem was that, deep down, Liz really didn’t want to hear the answer. She didn’t want to hear Eric admit out loud that something was indeed wrong. At least this way, she still had a hope that their marriage was OK, albeit a slim one, and could convince herself that they might get through it.
But then again, how could they, when she didn’t really know what there was to get through? And what kind of marriage could they have in the future if they couldn’t talk to one another now? Liz sighed inwardly, at a loss as to what to do next and sick to the back teeth of worrying about it.
“I’m all right, thanks,” Eric said, refusing her offer of the sea bass. “I’m not very hungry, to be honest.”
“Eric, are you OK?” Liz blurted, deciding to just bite the bullet and ask him straight out what was wrong with him – like any self-respecting wife would. “You seem very down in yourself lately.”
“I’m fine,” he replied and her heart plunged to her stomach when she realised that he wouldn’t look her in the eye. “Just a little tired.”
“Well, do you want to head back to the room after this? I’m quite tired myself, actually.” She pushed her plate away. “Now that I think of it, maybe we shouldn’t go anywhere on our own – without Toby, we’re both so tired we can hardly talk.”
She got a brief smile in return.
“I suppose it was nice of Tara to offer to take him again all the same,” he said. “But don’t you feel that sometimes she can overdo things?”
“What do you mean?”
“This whole ‘look at me – I’m so successful’ carry-on?”
“Well, she is successful, but as far as I’m concerned she’s no different to how she was when we first met. And you know as well as I do that Tara deserves every bit of success she has now.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Eric conceded. “But it must be tough on Emma though when –” He stopped short, as if he’d spoken out of turn, and Liz’s heart skipped a beat. “Why do you say that?”
Eric sat back in his chair. “Well, there’s Tara with this great career, nice car and what have you, and on the other hand there’s Emma, pregnant and having to give up her job and move home.”
“Having to give up her job” was a bit of an overstatement. According to Tara, Emma (after her first bout of morning sickness) had simply packed in the job and gone running home to Mammy and Daddy. But she didn’t share her thoughts with Eric.
“Yes, but it’s not as though she won’t get plenty of support – much of it from Tara, I’d imagine,” she added quietly. Then, she took a deep breath before adding, “Seeing as the baby’s father doesn’t seem to want anything to do with it.”
“And what makes you think that?” Eric replied, his tone measured.
“I’m only going on what Tara told me. I don’t really know Emma, after all.”
“Well, I do, and from what I can make out, things are hard enough on her as it is, without Tara gossiping to all and sundry about it.”
“All and sundry? I’m one of Tara’s best friends!” Hurt that he had so easily come to Emma’s defence, Liz couldn’t help her voice from rising. “And she’s not gossiping about Emma, she’s worried about her! Anyway, how do you know so much about how hard things are for Emma?” she added petulantly, and immediately wished she hadn’t. Now, she sounded like a jealous nag.
“Oh for God’s sake, Liz, don’t start! Emma’s an old friend, you know that. OK, so we went out with one another before I met you – big deal! I didn’t marry her, did I?”
No, Liz replied silently, but perhaps now you wish you had.
Instead she replied, “I know that, but to be honest, Eric, since we moved to Castlegate, sometimes I can’t help feeling a bit left out.”
There, she’d said it, she’d finally admitted that she felt an outsider in the village, that the idyllic life they’d envisaged in the country hadn’t quite materialised. “You know so many people, which is of course understandable seeing that you’re from there, but I . . . I don’t know . . . people in Castlegate are friendly, but I can’t help feeling like an outsider.”
Eric sat back. “But that’s only natural, Liz. We’ve only been there less than a year. These things take time.”
“I know, but I just get the sense that it’ll always be like that. I mean none of the locals have used the kennels yet –”
“That doesn’t mean anything. Part of the problem is that everyone knows their neighbours so well that they don’t need to put their dogs in kennels. They can just leave them with one another. Don’t read too much into that, Liz. Anyway, what about Colm? Don’t you get on with him?”
“I do, but I suppose he’s still really your friend. I don’t really have any friends of my own.” She hated the way this all sounded so whiny. With the way she was carrying on, why wouldn’t Eric cheat on her?
“Well, then you have to get out and about more. Bring Toby to one of those mother and toddler groups or something.”
Liz had thought of that, but it was difficult to arrange it around the kennels. She had to be available in the mornings to take in and discharge the animals. Maybe when she was fully booked she needn’t worry about it, but for the moment she needed to look after her customers’ every whim, so she couldn’t go gadding off to playgroups.
She sighed. “Maybe you’re right. I suppose I
just need to give it time.”
“Of course you do,” Eric soothed, but Liz suspected he wasn’t really taking her concerns seriously. “Now, will we get the bill? I think I’m ready for bed.”
“Sure.”
But much later, as she lay beside a heavily sleeping Eric, who had meant he was ready for sleep, and not for the lovemaking his wife had sorely hoped would bring them closer together, Liz wondered if giving it time would be enough.
Chapter 16
Sunday lunchtime, Eric and Liz returned home from Belfast.
While both were obviously excited to see Toby after the few days, Liz in particular seemed over the moon to be back, and upon arrival she practically swooped on the baby and covered him in kisses. Toby, in return, seemed just as pleased to see his mum and giggled with delight at Liz’s exuberance.
Eric kissed Toby too, but Tara suspected that he was somewhat annoyed by his wife’s overly demonstrative behaviour.
“Liz, leave him alone – you’d swear we’d been away for weeks,” he admonished, but not in the usual playful manner Tara would have expected from him. In fact, now that she’d observed him up close, Eric didn’t seem himself at all. She was certain he’d lost weight, and the sunny and good-natured manner she’d associated with him for as long as they’d known one another now seemed curiously absent. Instead he looked drawn and solemn and, Tara thought worriedly, a little uncomfortable and out of place with the cosy family reunion. Tara now understood why Liz had been so worried. Eric looked like a man who had the weight of the world on his shoulders.
“Thanks for looking after him,” Liz said, coming over and giving Tara a hug, Toby still in her arms. “I hope he was OK.”
“Liz, it was a pleasure – he wasn’t a bit of bother.”
“He wasn’t?” Liz replied, looking oddly at her son. Then she coloured slightly and gave a sideways glance at Eric, as if ashamed. “Well, you’re obviously much better at this than I am – I’m finding him very hard going lately.”
“Liz thought the place would be in chaos without her,” Eric drawled, and Tara could have kicked herself. The last thing Liz needed was to feel insecure about her mothering skills, especially when she was feeling so anxious about everything else these days.