Firefly Summer (83 page)

‘You are in your bottom,’ Jack said. ‘Wait till I tell your
father, not to mention Sergeant Sheehan, what you’ve been up to with cans of distemper.’

‘They’d want to know who gave us the distemper, Mr Coyne.’

‘I suppose O’Neill’s paying you more than I am. That’s what it always is in the end.’

‘You never paid us anything, Mr Coyne.’ Eddie was stung.

‘So you’re looking for something now, you mean little git.’

Eddie walked away in what he was sure was exactly the way the good sheriff would turn his back on the bad guys in town.

‘Don’t turn on the light.’

Rachel turned on the light and saw him lounging in her chair.

‘Why did you do that?’ Kerry asked. ‘I wanted us to sit and have another nice talk in the dark summer evening. Maybe we could give you another drink and get you all amorous again. Hey, that would be good.’

‘If you don’t leave I will,’ she said.

‘You’re not surprised to see me.’

‘I got your message. I knew you’d be here sooner or later.’

‘It’s sooner because there was some little misunderstanding about that cheque you gave me.’

‘I changed my mind. I cancelled it.’

‘That was a very foolish thing to do.’

‘Are you going?’ she asked him.

‘No, and neither are you. This is Mountfern, Rachel; this is not an apartment, it’s a couple of rooms over a
wayside store. It’s where you have to stay because you aren’t good enough to stay in the Grange, and because you’ll never stay in Fernscourt.’

She moved towards the door.

‘Wait,’ he ordered. ‘Just see how hopeless it is for you, Rachel. Write this cheque out again, with a note saying that it was all a mistake.
Do it
. Tell them that you apologise for the embarrassment caused to Mr McCann.’

‘
Mister
McCann.’ Rachel gave a great shout of mirthless laughter. ‘That guy’s never been called mister in his life and never will be. You don’t frighten me, Kerry. I’m going for Patrick.’

‘You’re going for my father.’

‘Of course I am. If his son is behaving like this and harrassing me then he will want to be told.’

‘Rachel, Rachel.’ Kerry was languid. ‘You live in a world of romantic movies and women’s journals. You see yourself as the lady who has been slighted and insulted. Grow up. Look at the reality. You’re a has-been, you’re a passed-over, middle-aged woman . . .’

‘You’re not hurting me.’

‘I’m glad, because that’s not my intention. I just want you to see how ridiculous you are. Once people can see the absurdity of themselves they are better off for it.’

He walked over to her, a writing pad and a pen in his hands. ‘Write it, Rachel. It makes sense.’

‘I will like hell write it.’

‘I’ll tell my father what fun and games we had.’

‘You can, I’ve already told him.’

Kerry’s face didn’t change. Not a muscle moved.

‘He knows nothing happened between us.’

‘Does he?’

Kerry looked down at the cheque. He looked back at Rachel.

Something about his smile alarmed her.

‘So could
you
explain why you wrote the cheque in the first place?’ he asked.

He knew by her face that he had hit home. That was the one bit of her unsatisfactory conversation with Patrick in Coyne’s wood that had been worse than all the rest put together. He had listened impassively from his seat on the fallen tree. The drink, the dizziness, the passing out, the tears, the hangover, the arrogant behaviour of Kerry going down to the shop in the morning . . . all those things were capable of some kind of explanation. But why had she given in so readily to the demand for money? Unless she had hoped somehow to pay him off.

It had seemed a long day to Dara since she set out that morning all dressed up and had the upsetting meeting with Jack Coyne.

People were behaving strangely in Mountfern today. Jacinta said that there was some terrible row between Mrs Fine who was Mr O’Neill’s mistress and Mr O’Neill, and he had ordered her back to America because of something unmentionable she had done.

Dara asked what it had been but Jacinta said her lips were sealed.

Liam White said he thought Mrs Fine had got drunk and made a pass at Kerry.

Tommy Leonard said there was some scandal about Kerry, he had had breakfast in the wrong place. But he, Tommy, knew nothing about it and wasn’t going to start speculating.

Mary Donnelly admired Dara’s dress and said that now that she was so grown up why didn’t she find herself some nice new friends instead of just staying all the time in the same little circle.

‘It isn’t a circle, it’s just whoever is here,’ Dara cried out in confusion.

Nobody had ever talked about circles before in Mountfern.

She came home confused and somehow let down. She sat with her mother for a little. Even Mam looked odd, she thought.

Kate looked with love at her beautiful daughter. Please may something happen that would take this dangerous Kerry O’Neill away from their place.

His deliberate cruelty to Rachel, his blackmail, the cynical way he treated everyone around him made Kate shiver.

‘Are you all right, Mam?’ Dara had noticed the way her body had trembled suddenly all over.

‘I’m fine. Can you pass me that light wool stole . . . the new one Rachel brought me.’ Kate settled it round her shoulders.

Dara had a look as if she were going to say something and had thought better of it.

‘What is it?’

‘Well, I don’t suppose it’s possible that Mrs Fine could fancy Kerry. I know it sounds ridiculous, but do you think it could by any chance be true?’

When Dara saw the look of shock and embarrassment followed by anger come to her mother’s face, she knew that there must indeed be something in what awful horrible Jack Coyne had said. She wished with all her heart that she had never asked.

It was about the most revolting thing she had ever heard in her life, and the worst thing was that her mother had known about it already.

‘What are you going to wear?’ Fergus asked Kate.

‘To the hotel opening?’

‘No, Kate, to your court case.’

‘I thought you said it would be settled before we
got
to court.’

‘I did, and that’s what Kevin thinks too, but we have to be prepared to go into court. All of us.’

‘I didn’t think about it.’

‘Well
do
think about it.’

‘Do you want me to paint my cheeks white and draw circles under my eyes?’

‘No, but I don’t want you dripping in all Rachel Fine’s silks and scarves and jewellery either.’

‘Fergus, I’m weary of this. It’s a sum. It’s a sum no matter what I wear. It’s going to be ten thousand pounds at most and two thousand pounds at least. Isn’t that what we all agreed?’

‘That’s what you and John and I and Kevin Kennedy and about three others agreed. It’s not what those hotshots across the river and their big faceless insurance companies agreed. It’s not what a jury of pudding-faced farmers and shopkeepers agreed. Not yet.’

‘What do you want me to wear? I’ll wear it.’ She sounded tired.

‘It will be over soon.’ Fergus sounded tired too.

Dara’s bedroom door was open, she was standing by a picture of Our Lady Queen of the May.

‘What are you thinking about?’ Michael asked.

‘Should we pray for a lot of money next week or would that be wrong?’ Dara asked.

‘I don’t know.’

‘I was just wondering what you thought. You say so little these days, I thought you might have
some
opinion.’ Dara was annoyed.

Michael was even more annoyed. ‘I say very little, I have no opinions,
you
are the one who says nothing, you’ve this awful shrug, this awful way of just putting anyone down.’

‘Ha ha.’ Dara was bitter. ‘I’ve often heard of people accusing others of the very fault they have themselves.
You
haven’t a word to throw to a dog these days, yes even Leopold doesn’t bother to come and snuffle at you any more, you might as well snuffle to a block of wood.’

‘I only have to come into a room for you to leave it,’ Michael cried. ‘Look at you now, standing up already, off again. I don’t care. I don’t care one tuppenny damn, just don’t go round saying that it’s
me
that’s being difficult, you’re the one like a bag of weasels.’

‘I’m standing because I haven’t sat down yet, you great clown. I only asked you a civil question, a reasonable question, like should we be saying the thirty days prayer or not. It’s the kind of thing we used to talk about once. When you talked, that was.’

Dara’s lip was trembling a little. Michael saw it.

‘I don’t think prayers work,’ he said. ‘I’m not sure but I don’t think they do.’

‘I’m not sure either, but suppose they did, would it be wrong?’ She looked very near tears.

‘Why the sudden interest in money?’ Michael asked. ‘We never needed it before.’

‘I know, I just thought it might help to make things better, stop everyone from being so worried. Stop all the terrible things happening.’

Awkwardly he put his arm around her shoulder. ‘It’s not as bad as that.’

‘Sometimes it is.’

‘I know, for me too.’

‘Oh you! Everything’s fine for you.’ She sounded envious.

‘Not all the time. I’ll tell you sometime.’

‘We never talk these days,’ she said.

‘Remember when we got into such tempers because we couldn’t sleep in the same room any more!’ Michael said.

‘I still think you got the better room.’

‘Yeah, but I got Eddie and Declan.’

She smiled at him. This was better, more like old times.

‘Let’s go out,’ she said. ‘It’s the last day of freedom. We’ll go to the tunnel.’

‘It’s such a sunny day . . .’ Michael began.

‘Oh come on, it was always a sunny day when we went to the tunnel.’ She looked eager.

With great misgivings Michael agreed. They walked along River Road past Loretto Quinn’s at the very moment Rachel came out, in her cream linen suit with its cream and brown blouse.

She stopped when she saw them. Uneasily.

Dara stopped too.

Rachel spoke first.

‘Can I give you a ride?’ she asked.

‘No thanks, we’re just going for a walk,’ Michael answered.

Dara said nothing.

‘Well, if you’re sure . . . ?’

Michael looked at Dara, waiting for her to answer. There were no words so he had to speak again.

‘Honestly, thanks. It’s our last day of the holidays.’

‘Yes, the last day of the holidays,’ Rachel repeated. ‘You will never forget this holiday . . .’ Her eyes went towards the big bridge. ‘Nobody knew it was going to turn out like this.’

She got into her green car and drove away.

‘Why were you like that?’ Michael asked. ‘Like what?’

‘You know.’

‘I can’t tell you. Not yet.’

‘All right.’ He looked disappointed, Dara noticed. Perhaps she would tell him in the tunnel.

Miss Hayes had gone to Dublin. There were a lot of things she had to do. There was the matter of her passport, and her traveller’s cheques. There were formalities about her ticket with the travel agency, a meeting with some distant cousins, and she wanted to buy material to make a few nice suitable garments for the journey. Miss Fine had been very helpful about the need for pure cotton, and avoiding synthetic fabrics. Mr O’Neill got her a lift to the town and she would take the day excursion train from there.

Kerry came to the lodge to see Grace. He looked dishevelled and scruffy.

‘I wish you didn’t behave like this, Kerry, like someone on the run. So I know you and Father had some big row again, and nobody ever tells me. Grace isn’t meant to know anything upsetting . . . but he hasn’t thrown you
out, it’s you who are making the big drama out of it.’

‘It’s a bit complicated. I just have to sort things out and then it will all be fine. I don’t want to be at home, not until things are settled.’

‘Can you tell me about it?’

‘No, Gracie. Not yet.’

‘Kerry, where are you staying?’

‘I’ll tell you eventually, honestly.’

‘You’re so jumpy, you said you wanted to talk to me about something. What is it?’

‘Gracie, you believe that everything’s marvellous. Everyone’s good and all things are going to end happy ever after.’

‘I don’t believe that, but I only concentrate on things that make me happy. You concentrate on things that make you miserable, like fighting with Father and only seeing the old fussy side of Miss Hayes. She’d be so pleased to do all your clothes for you . . .’ Grace shook her head in wonder that Kerry couldn’t see the easy route to everything.

‘I have to go out, there’s someone I have to meet, then I’ll come back, and you and I will talk about plans and the future and you can lecture me to your heart’s content.’

They were barely into the tunnel when Dara felt at peace. She had been happy here with Michael like they had been happy when they played in the ruins of Fernscourt.

‘You know, there are plenty of these tunnels, we used to think this was the only one in the world,’ she said.

‘For us it was,’ Michael said.

They walked along the narrow passage to their special room. Dara chattered away more easily than she had done for a long time.

‘It looks different,’ she said.

‘Of course we haven’t been here for ages,’ said Michael.

They lit the candles in the old rusty candelabra they had found on a dump and polished.

The place was full of shadows and shapes, as it always was.

But Dara saw that there were bunches of grasses tied in a way that they never had them before. She saw there were cushions that they used to keep on the floor as seats all piled up on the broken couch. She knew instantly that this was not the way they had left it.

She knew that Michael had brought Grace to the tunnel. Her heart turned over at the betrayal.

She decided not to make an issue out of it. There had been too much drama. But she wouldn’t tell him about Mrs Fine and the terrible story that she knew was true. She couldn’t trust him any more.

So they talked lightly of other things. They talked about school tomorrow. And they talked a little about Mam’s case next Thursday. When they would both be in their classrooms trying to concentrate on their work.