Frisky Business (16 page)

‘He just said he didn’t love me anymore. But I think he’s seeing someone else.’ Danny’s voice was hoarse and shaky, and Romy felt her eyes well up. That made the least sense of all. How could anyone stop loving her beautiful brother? He was the easiest person in the world to love.

‘Bastard!’ she said. ‘Bloody men, eh?’

‘Bloody men,’ Danny said miserably.

‘Well, he doesn’t deserve you. You’re better off without him. And other clichés,’ she said, smiling ruefully. ‘Sorry I can’t come up with anything more original, but it’s very short notice.’

‘That’s okay. The oldies are the best.’

‘Speaking of which, what’s the movie?’ she asked, nodding towards the TV as she rested her head on Danny’s shoulder. Doris Day was now engaged in a very heated exchange with Rock Hudson. Even with the sound off, you could tell Doris was fuming.

‘I
don’t know. Some Doris Day movie where she tricks Rock Hudson into marrying her with a cunning plan.’

‘Oh,
Pillow Talk!
I love that movie.’

‘How the hell do you tell them apart? I just described the plot of every Doris Day film ever made.’

‘Hey, not fair to Doris.’

‘Really?’ Danny gave her a sceptical look.

‘No. There’s
That Touch of Mink
, for instance.’

‘What happens in that one?’

‘She tricks Cary Grant into marrying her – with her most elaborate cunning plan ever.’

‘Ah, I take it all back.’

‘And
Calamity Jane.
She didn’t even
have
a cunning plan to get someone to marry her.’

‘Well, she had a gun. She didn’t need one.’

‘True.’ Romy sighed. ‘God, I wish
I
had a gun,’ she said, thinking of Paul.

‘Lunch is ready,’ Marian said, popping her head around the door. Danny switched off the TV and they all trooped into the kitchen. Romy took Luke from Danny and strapped him into the swing chair that her mother kept for him, while Danny poured wine. She positioned the chair so that Luke could see everyone and set it swinging gently.

‘This looks fantastic, Mum,’ Romy said as she sat down. Marian was a superb cook when she made an effort, which she hadn’t that often since their father had died, but she still always pushed the boat out for family Sunday lunch.

‘There’s an extra lamb shank, if anyone wants more,’ Marian said with a wary glance at Danny as she began passing around dishes, and Romy guessed that she had been expecting Paul to join them as usual.

‘Well, here’s to us,’ Marian said when they had all helped themselves, and they clinked glasses.

Romy
groaned in appreciation as she dug into meltingly tender lamb shanks with gravy, creamy mashed potato and roast vegetables. ‘This is amazing, Mum.’

‘Mmm,’ Danny grunted in agreement, his mouth full.

‘So how was the Hallowe’en party the other night?’ Marian asked. ‘I never really heard about it properly. Who was there?’

Romy and her mother chatted about who had been at her party, what her old school friends were doing now, which of them had got married or had children. Danny was subdued, his head bent over his plate, and Romy and her mother exchanged worried glances when he wasn’t looking. They all fell silent eventually, the silence only broken by Luke’s gurgles and the jangle of the rattle he clutched in his fist.

‘You know, I never liked Paul,’ Marian piped up eventually.

Romy looked at her mother in astonishment. She had adored Paul. He had come to Sunday lunch with them almost every week for the past two years and she had doted on him. She had even started making hints about a wedding from the moment civil partnerships had become legal in Ireland. ‘Mum, you did like him. We all did.’

‘Well, okay, maybe I was taken in by his charm. But there was something sly about him. I never thought he was good enough for you,’ she said to Danny.

‘Thanks, Mum,’ Danny said simply, seemingly touched by her show of support.

‘It’s just the truth. I didn’t think he appreciated you enough. And he was charming on the surface, but when you got down to it, he was always a bit aloof. It was hard to get to know him really.’

‘Yeah, I found
that
out,’ Danny said with a bitter laugh.

‘He was good-looking,’ Marian continued, ‘but you could tell he was going to be paunchy and bald in middle age. He was already starting to lose his hair.’

‘And
his waistline,’ Romy added.

‘He pronounced “tissue” as “tiss-ew”,’ Marian said.

‘And he had that terrible unibrow,’ Romy said, getting a small smile from Danny.

‘Yes,’ Marian said, ‘and you know what they say – “Beware of those whose eyebrows meet.”’

‘He had shit taste in music,’ Danny said quietly.

‘And he was scared of babies,’ Romy said. ‘He tried to cover it up by being all hearty, but he always tensed up around Luke.’

‘He left skid marks in the loo.’

‘Danny, we’re eating!’ Marian protested, but she looked pleased.

‘He kept calling Luke, “little man”.’ Romy shuddered.

‘He never helped out when he came over for lunch.’

‘He had back hair.’

‘And ear hair.’

‘And nose hair.’

‘Shit! He was the missing link!’ Danny said, and now he was laughing.

Soon they were all happily trying to outdo each other in tearing Paul to shreds. By the time Marian brought in the banoffee pie for dessert, the tension had dissipated and it was a normal, convivial Sunday lunch.

‘Anyway, I haven’t asked you about Kit,’ Marian said to Romy as she sat down after handing around plates. ‘Bloody Paul has put everything else out of my head. I couldn’t believe it when I saw him the other day.’

Danny looked up. ‘Kit Masterson?’

‘Yes. Didn’t Romy tell you?’

‘No. Tell me what?’ He looked at Romy questioningly.

‘Just that he’s back,’ Romy said quickly, shooting her mother a warning look. Marian gave her a slight nod, indicating that she
had taken the hint, but she looked puzzled. ‘He’s come back here to live. He called over the other night – on Hallowe’en.’

‘You didn’t see him at the party?’ Marian asked Danny.

‘It was after Danny had left,’ Romy explained.

‘I met him when I was dropping Luke home the next morning,’ Marian said.

‘He spent the night?’ Danny’s eyes widened.

‘On the couch.’

‘Wow! You haven’t seen him in years, have you? I wonder what made him look you up suddenly after all this time.’

Romy shrugged. ‘Just feeling nostalgic, I guess. And he wanted to get my advice on this house he’s inherited that he’s thinking of renovating. I might be helping him with it, if I think it’s worth doing. He’d be paying me, of course,’ she added when Danny bristled visibly.

‘Well, I think it’ll be lovely for you having him back. I always liked Kit,’ Marian said, smiling fondly.

Romy laughed. ‘Mum, you did not! You hated me going out with him. You were always hoping we’d break up and trying to fix me up with other boys.’

‘Was I? Oh well, you shouldn’t go by me. I liked Paul. I married your father.’

An awkward silence fell over the table. Marian busied herself cutting the pie and handing it around, and Romy looked at her in confusion, trying to read her expression. She and Danny exchanged bewildered glances across the table. What had her mother meant by that? Had they not been happy together? She had never heard her mother say anything critical or disloyal about her father before.

Finally, Marian looked up, catching Romy’s puzzled expression. ‘Look, I know you shouldn’t speak ill of the dead, and I’m not really saying anything bad about him, but your father could be very … difficult.’

‘He
was in a lot of pain,’ Romy said quietly, not meeting her mother’s eye. She felt the icy-cold dread wash over her as the memories crowded in, threatening to overwhelm her.

‘I don’t mean just at the end, Romy. He was always difficult.

You must have seen that. He was always so hard on you two – so demanding. Romy, I know you and your father had a … special bond …,’ she began, choosing her words carefully. Then she sighed and said, ‘Look, I know you’re not supposed to say this out loud, but we all know you were his favourite.’

‘Gee, thanks, Mum,’ Danny said, but he was smiling and didn’t appear at all hurt, or even surprised.

‘I include myself in that, Danny, if it’s any consolation,’ Marian said, squeezing Danny’s arm.

‘Mum, I’m sure that’s not—’

‘It’s true, Romy, and it’s fine. I was over him years ago,’ she said with a wry smile.

Now that Romy thought about it, her mother had been different since her father died – more light-hearted and relaxed, as if some invisible constraint had been removed. It was nothing dramatic, just a subtle letting go, the gentle expiration of someone who hadn’t even been aware she was holding her breath. Everything about her was softer, easier. She had stopped trying to tame the uncontrollable frizz of her hair. She looked messier, and happier. Her house, too, was scruffier, but more cosy and homely. Every surface was covered in a jumble of bits and pieces, and setting the table always first necessitated shifting the piles of paperwork that constantly littered it. The shelves and bookcases were full to bursting, and when space ran out, books were stacked in high piles on the floor, forming teetering skyscrapers.

She had never thought of her mother as downtrodden, but now Romy wondered if it had been necessary for her to suppress some part of herself in order to be with the dynamic, forceful
presence her father had been. She hadn’t given much thought to her parents’ relationship before. She had been aware that they were very different people, but they had seemed to suit each other. They were both journalists, and both highly respected in their fields – him for hard news and her for ‘soft’ features, categories which Romy thought typified them both perfectly. Her father could be stern, austere and intimidating, while her mother was never anything but warm, gentle and compassionate. Fiercely intellectual and politically astute, Frank Fitzgerald had been widely admired for his rigorous pursuit of the truth and his commitment to a liberal agenda. When he died, the nation had mourned the loss of one of its most valued political commentators. But while her father was revered, her mother was loved. He made people think, but she made them
feel.
Romy loved her mother’s writing. Her humanity and warmth shone through in everything she wrote, and her regular column in a national newspaper had won her many devoted fans. People would write to tell her how one of her pieces had touched their lives, and complete strangers approached her in the street, treating her like an old and trusted friend.

‘I loved him to bits, don’t get me wrong,’ Marian said now. ‘He was the love of my life and I got to be with this person whom I was totally crazy about. If I could go back and do it all again, I wouldn’t change a thing.’ She sighed. ‘That kind of love fades,’ she continued, ‘and it’s not always what makes you happiest in the long run, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t grab it when you find it. Sometimes, the things that make you unhappiest are also the things that bring you the most joy.’

‘What are you saying?’ Romy asked.

‘I’m just saying I wouldn’t necessarily be the best person to decide what’s right for you. You’ve always been the best judge of that yourself.’

‘You
think Kit could be the love of my life?’

‘You certainly thought so when you were going out with him. I remember how distraught you were when he disappeared off to America and didn’t come back,’ Marian said.

‘But Mum, that was a lifetime ago. We were just kids.’

‘I’m just saying it’s possible,’ Marian said. ‘You’ve always known what you wanted, Romy, and you’ve followed your heart no matter what anyone has said. And you’ve shown better judgement than any of us most of the time. But lately it’s like you’ve started to doubt yourself. I’m just saying don’t close yourself off to the possibility.’

‘You think I’m closed off?’

‘You haven’t been out with anyone since Gary. I’m not saying having a boyfriend is the be all and end all, but I just don’t want you to miss out.’

‘Well, I’ve been a bit busy. I’ve had Luke to take care of. And it’s not that easy finding a boyfriend when you have a baby.’

‘But it’s not just that, is it?’ her mother said gently. ‘I think you’re hiding behind Luke a bit, using him as an excuse. Even before you had Luke – in fact, ever since your father died, you’ve changed. I know you’ve had a hard time getting over his death. But we all lost him, and we all miss him in our own ways. It’s been over a year now. Life goes on.’

‘I know, Mum.’ She felt tears burning the back of her throat and she clenched her hands under the table. ‘It’s just – I feel …’

‘What, love?’

‘I just feel what’s the point? What’s the point of loving someone and doing everything you can to make them love you back, when they can just turn around one day and say that’s it, they don’t love you anymore? Why put yourself through it when they can just cut you off like that? Like Dad. Like

Danny
and Paul,’ she wailed, waving at her brother. Tears were welling up in her eyes now and she brushed them away with the back of her hand. ‘I mean, why bother when it all means nothing in the end?’