Authors: Patricia Scanlan
She was glad Filomena would have six extra weeks at home. It would tie her down a little, if she wanted to go out at night, but she’d decided, anyway, that she was going to devote this
summer to her daughter and that was what she was going to do.
There was an air of excitement in the house. Filomena was packing, and humming. Chloe was organizing her dolls for their holidays. Shauna felt the stress seep out of her body. She was going to
read and swim and spend time with her daughter and sister. She knew it was going to be a wonderful interlude. When Greg came home, she’d entertain their neighbours. Until then, her time was
hers to do what she liked. What an unexpected blessing, she reflected as her fingers tapped in the details of her credit card number to book Filomena’s flights. It was like
The Great
Escape
.
Sylvia had called in around ten the previous night, soon after she and Chloe arrived home tired and exhilarated from Whiteshells Bay. They’d chatted about the neighbours and her friend had
brought her up to speed on all the goings-on, including Orla and Denis’s drama. ‘Don’t worry, she’ll be over to tell you what a bastard Denis is. We’ve all had
it,’ Sylvia assured her, giggling tipsily after her third glass of wine.
As she listened to her friend chattering away, Shauna was even more pleased that she was going away until August. She had enough problems in her own life to try to cope with. She was in no mood
to be an agony aunt to the neighbours.
‘Actually, Sylvia, I won’t be here for a few weeks. Chloe and I are going to Whiteshells Bay to help Carrie out with Dad. I’m letting Filomena go home early and we’re
heading off the day after tomorrow with Bobby. I’ll come back in August when Greg’s here. I probably won’t have the lunch until them.’ She didn’t mention the mobile
home. She didn’t want Sylvia suggesting a visit with her eight-year-old twins. This year she just wanted to be free of friends and acquaintances. She was all entertained out, she thought
ruefully. She just wasn’t in the humour for any of it.
‘Aw, no! I was really looking forward to having you home and having a day away from the cooker. Your lunches are
such
fun. And besides, you’ll have to invite Alice in
August,’ Sylvia protested.
‘I’ll deal with that when the time comes,’ Shauna murmured.
‘Well honestly, you’re only home a couple of days and you’re deserting us already.’ Sylvia drained her glass and held it out for a refill.
‘These things happen,’ Shauna said easily, trying not to yawn. The sea air had knocked her for six and she was longing for bed. Sylvia had stayed drinking until one a.m. before
tottering woozily across the road.
It would be her that would be doing the tipsy tottering from now on, Shauna thought happily as she laid out trousers, jeans and an array of pastel cut-offs on the bed. Knowing the vagaries of
the Irish weather she took out a selection of sweaters and fleeces. At least her mobile home had central heating. She was beginning to adjust to the cooler climate again but she still found the
nights very cold and wore thermals in bed. She pulled out a couple of pairs of warm pjs as well, and a pair of bedsocks. Utterly unsexy but warm.
She felt like a child going on vacation.
‘I can’t keep up with you,’ Bobby laughed from the back seat as he listened to her news several hours later, his arm tucked round Chloe who was revelling in having him all to
herself.
‘Oh, Bobby, it’s going to be fun.’ Shauna bubbled. ‘We’re not going until tomorrow because I’ve to bring Filomena to the airport. Besides, I thought
you’d like one night with us before going home.’ She glanced at him in the rear-view mirror.
‘It feels a bit weird,’ he confessed.
‘Dad’s fluttering around like a regular Mrs Mop, making sure everything is all right for the “royal visit”. I think he’s nervous too.’ She caught his
gaze.
‘That makes two of us.’
‘Stay calm. We’ll have a few barbies and I’ll send you home singing every night,’ she promised.
‘You must be looking forward to Bobby’s visit, all the same,’ Mrs O’Neill remarked as she poured her neighbour a cup of tea. She’d dropped in a
loaf of fresh baked currant soda bread, remembering how much Bobby had loved it as a child.
‘I suppose I am. It’s been so long since I’ve seen him, though, and our last words to one another were harsh when he left. I’m a little apprehensive,’ Noel
admitted. ‘This gay thing is difficult to deal with.’
‘Don’t be fretting about all that now, Noel. That’s all in the past. You wrote the letter to him and he responded, so move on from there,’ his neighbour advised
matter-of-factly. ‘And think how lucky you are to have your three children around this summer.’
‘I know, Mrs O’Neill. I do give thanks for it,’ Noel assured her. ‘Will any of yours be home this year?’ he asked kindly, feeling very sorry for his friend.
His neighbour brightened and a smile creased her worn face. ‘Did I not tell you? Brona is coming home for six weeks at Christmas with the children. I’m delighted, Noel. It
can’t come quick enough.’ Her bright blue eyes, undimmed by age, shone with anticipation.
‘That’s great news, great news,’ Noel said warmly, delighted for her. She was a lovely neighbour, even if she had some very unusual religious beliefs, he acknowledged, as he
watched her rinse the teacups and dry them. He felt very comfortable with her, the true sign of a good friendship.
When she was gone, he made his way down to Bobby’s bedroom and opened the window to air the room. He really should get a new bed for him, he reflected as he stared out the window. Twiskers
came into the room and hopped onto the bed, which was bathed in sunlight.
‘Get out of it, you scamp,’ he admonished, not wanting cat hairs all over the covers. He gave her a small tap on the rump. Twiskers stared up at him with haughty indignation and
stalked out of the room, waving her tail. Noel laughed. That cat was a character. There was no doubt about it.
What would he say to Bobby? he wondered. Should he shake hands? Or should he behave as if nothing had happened between them? He was relieved that his son wasn’t coming home until the
following day. It meant that he’d only be staying for three nights. That was a terrible thing to think, he acknowledged guiltily, but three nights was enough for this first trip. There was no
need for him to come home to look after him. He was managing fine with Carrie’s help.
Noel sighed and looked at the bed again. It had a terrible sag in the middle. Maybe Dan might be able to bring him to buy one in Drogheda. He could carry it back in his big delivery van. He
limped out to the hall and picked up the phone and dialled Carrie’s number.
‘I like this one,’ Bobby declared, pointing out a particularly colourful abstract in sharp-angled reds and blacks.
‘I hate abstract. I’d much prefer that one.’ Shauna pointed to a delicate watercolour of autumn trees. They were strolling around the big, high-ceilinged showrooms of the
Kennedy Gallery in Harcourt Street, in the city, sipping a glass of wine each and commenting on all the paintings as the artist stood nervously wondering whether there would be any precious red
dots placed on his work to indicate a sale.
‘Oh, look, look at this one,’ Bobby exclaimed, pointing to a small, exquisitely executed water-colour of a field of glorious red and yellow poppies. ‘Anton would love
that.’
‘Let’s see how much it is.’ Shauna glanced down the list. ‘Number twenty-two. Four hundred and fifty euros. Very reasonable for an original.’
‘Yes, moneybags,’ Bobby riposted. ‘I could buy it for his birthday in August. I know he’d love it.’
‘Buy it then,’ Shauna urged.
‘I’d have to write a sterling cheque.’
‘Oh, for goodness’ sake.’ Shauna whipped out her chequebook. ‘I’ll get it and you can sort me out later.’
‘But we’ve to leave it in the exhibition until the end of the month. I won’t be here,’ he dithered.
‘I’ll collect it. Do you want it or not?’
‘Right. OK then.’ Bobby let himself be bulldozed. Moments later a little red dot reposed discreetly on a corner of the painting and he studied it with pleasure. The perfect present
for his beloved, he thought happily.
‘Let’s go and have some chow,’ he suggested after they had perused the paintings several times and clapped politely at the speeches. ‘My treat. Anywhere good near
by?’
Shauna wrinkled her nose. ‘Wagamama’s if you feel Japanesy, or Mao’s is more Thai oriented,’ she suggested.
‘Thai sounds good. Lead on, big sis.’
‘Less of the big sis, please.’ Shauna glanced down at herself, feeling the tightness of the cream linen trousers she was wearing. She’d want to start watching her weight. She
was putting it on. It was all those Club Milks and crisps she was devouring at Carrie’s. ‘We’ll walk briskly,’ she ordered, striding off ahead of him towards Grafton
Street.
‘Hold on a minute,’ Bobby protested, hurrying to catch up with her. The streets were buzzing at the tail end of the teatime rush. Couples strolled along arm in arm. Businessmen and
women hurried along, frowning and preoccupied, talking animatedly into mobile phones as they made their way home from work. Birds sang in the verdant greenery of Stephen’s Green. It was a
beautiful summer’s evening. Shauna was enjoying herself. It was
great
to be home.
‘This is nice, having a meal together, isn’t it? Pity Carrie’s not here,’ she remarked, half an hour later, as they tucked into Malaysian chicken for her and sizzling
prawns for him. There was a convivial hum of chat and laughter in the restaurant and the food was very tasty. ‘You know, I think it’s going to be a terrific summer for us all,’
she confided, spearing a piece of chicken and dipping it into the creamy coconut sauce.
‘It’s starting off well,’ he agreed. ‘So far it’s been a good year for the McCarthy clan. We all met out in Abu Dhabi, Dad and I have a truce of sorts and now
you’ve bought your mobile home and Chloe’s going to get to spend a lot of time with her cousins. Perhaps you’re right. Maybe all our bad times are over.’ He offered her a
prawn to taste and she reciprocated with a piece of creamy chicken.
‘I feel they are, Bobby, I really do,’ she said earnestly. ‘Let’s let go of the past and enjoy being on good terms with Dad. The past has caused us enough misery and he
does seem to be making the effort.’
‘I’m with you all the way,’ Bobby agreed, lifting his glass. ‘To Family!’ he toasted.
‘To Family,’ she echoed, hoping that this time next year there’d be a new little member of the clan.
Lucky Bobby and Shauna
, Carrie thought enviously, wishing that
she
was gadding about town with her siblings, who had just texted her in riotous good form,
full of the joys. Instead, she was stuck in a furniture shop waiting for her father to buy a bed.
‘Dad, this one is fine, honestly,’ she assured her father as they stood looking at a selection of divan beds in the shop in Drogheda. ‘I’ll ring Dan and ask him to go to
the loading bay and get them to load one into the van. That’s if they have one in stock. If it was a double bed, you could forget it. You’d be waiting for weeks.’
‘You don’t think it’s too hard?’ Noel thumped it.
‘It’s fine, Dad. Come on. I don’t want to leave the kids with Sadie too long; it’s well past Hannah’s bedtime.’
‘Oh. Oh, right. Sorry, I didn’t think,’ Noel apologized.
What’s new?
Carrie thought irritably. She’d been in the middle of cooking dinner when Noel had phoned her and informed her that he wanted to go and buy a new bed for Bobby
and asking would Dan be able to bring him in the van.
‘I’d like to give him a surprise, and that bed can’t be very comfortable. It’s donkey’s years old.’ He cleared his throat. ‘I’d like him to know
that I went to a bit of effort to welcome him home.’
Carrie’s heart had softened. Even if it was truly inconvenient she couldn’t refuse him. Not when he put it to her like that. Now, though, he was starting to get on her nerves with
his indecision. They’d have to bring the bed home, strip the other one and take it out the back and set up this one. At least another hour and a half if she was lucky.
‘This one so,’ Noel said firmly, taking out his wallet. ‘Where do I pay?’
‘Follow me,’ Carrie said.
‘Right,’ said her father and promptly tripped over his crutch and fell against the bed.
Jesus, Mary and Joseph, please let me get him home in one piece
, she prayed silently as she hauled him up.
‘These
bloody
things,’ he cursed, straightening himself.
‘You should be resting like they told you,’ she said crossly. It was rare for her father to curse.
‘I will tomorrow when Bobby comes home,’ Noel said meekly, knowing by her tone that she was getting agitated.
‘Sorry! I didn’t mean to snap,’ Carrie apologized. ‘Are you OK?’
‘Grand,’ he assured her, watching what he was doing this time. He was very pleased. He’d got a new bed and a new bedside locker to go with it. He hoped his son appreciated
it.
Bobby licked his lips. His mouth was dry. It was midday of the following day and he, Chloe and Shauna were driving into Whiteshells Bay. It was so strange to be back again, he
thought, glancing at the small whitewashed building where he’d gone to school aeons ago. The church had had a new coat of paint and colourful hanging baskets of flowers hung from shopfronts.
An Angel gift shop stood where there had once been a fruit and veg shop and Tessa’s Hairdressers had been replaced by a trendy new salon called Snips.
‘The place looks great. The flowers are a nice touch.’
‘Yes, it’s for the Tidy Towns competition. The village has been given a makeover. Remember when we used to sneak a smoke down Smuggler’s Lane?’ she whispered, conscious
of Chloe in the back seat. Fortunately, her daughter was engrossed with her Barbie dolls.
‘Yeah.’ He smiled at the memory. He blessed himself as they passed the cemetery and thought of his mother.
Thanks for sending me Anton
, he said silently to her, as his father’s bungalow came into view. Great masses of roses tumbled over the doorway and the small herbaceous border was a
splash of riotous colour. Anton would love it, Bobby thought ruefully. He adored the country garden look and their great plan was to buy a small cottage in the countryside somewhere and have a
massive garden.