Love and Devotion (35 page)

He smiled. ‘Well, Hat, I think you’re doing a great job.’

‘Thank you.’

‘And I’m not just talking about work. I’m referring to the job you’re doing at home.’

She tensed, but said nothing.

‘I think it’s brilliant, what you’re doing, bringing up your sister’s children. Can’t be easy. And you’ve never once let it get in the way of your job.’

‘How did you know?’

He tapped his nose. ‘Adrian. He told me everything.’

‘Before or after my interview?’

‘Oh, definitely after your interview.’

‘You didn’t trust me?’

‘As it turns out, I was right to think there was more to you than met the eye. So why didn’t you tell me about the kiddies?’

‘I didn’t want them to jeopardise my chances.’

‘You rate me pretty poorly then, don’t you?’

‘It was you who said you didn’t want to employ one of those devious girls who’d get herself pregnant then sting you for maternity leave.’

‘That’s quite a different matter, Hat.’

‘Please don’t call me Hat.’

‘How old are the kiddies?’

‘Nine and almost five.’

‘And how are you managing childcare wise?’

Seeing as he seemed genuinely interested, she told him about her parents and how she was now trying to buy somewhere to live.

‘You’ve been on a hell of a learning curve. Now, Hat, I want you to promise me something.’ He leaned in close. Looking at his bloodshot eyes, Harriet wondered if he’d remember much of this conversation in the morning. ‘I want you to know that I’m not one of those bastards who doesn’t stand by his employees. I’m a fair man. If you need the odd afternoon off to pick up the children for some reason or other, just make up the hours another day. Okay?’

‘Thank you, that’s very ... very kind of you,’ she said, and seizing the opportunity, added, ‘Can I do that tomorrow afternoon when we get back?’

‘Sure. Anything you say.’

 

The next morning, Harriet was awake early. Unable to get back to sleep, she decided to go for a walk in the park opposite the hotel. It would be another two hours before Howard was meeting her for breakfast. It was a frosty morning - cold enough to see her breath in the air - and with her scarf wrapped around her neck and her hands pushed deep into her pockets, she set out to explore the park. Last night’s conversation with Howard was on her mind. She supposed she shouldn’t have been too surprised that Adrian had told Howard about her circumstances, but she hoped it wouldn’t mark her out for special treatment. The important thing was that she was doing the job she’d been employed to do, to the best of her ability. When they were walking back to the hotel, Howard had said, ‘You know, Hat, Adrian warned me there was a danger your dignified self-containment would get up my nose.’

‘And does it?’ she’d asked. If she ever saw Adrian again, he’d better watch out!

‘Nah. I knew you’d be putty in my hands.’

‘If you weren’t my boss, I’d thump you for that.’

‘Just as well I’m your boss, then.’

 

Harriet hadn’t been walking for long when she noticed a figure on a bench ahead of her. Bundled up in a thick overcoat, he was leaning forwards, his elbows resting on his knees. He looked like he was deep in prayer. As she approached him, a prickle of recognition caused her to stare even harder at him. To her astonishment, she was looking at the only man other than Howard who had got away with calling her Hat.

 

 

 

 

‘Dominic?’

‘Good God, Harriet. Is that really you, or am I dreaming?’

‘Perhaps we’re both dreaming. What brings you to Dublin?’

He waved a hand airily. ‘I’m ransacking Trinity’s library for a paper I’m doing on Yeats. The poet,’ he added.

She sat on the bench next to him, noting how tired and dishevelled he looked. Like a man who hadn’t been to bed perhaps. Certainly not his own bed. Same old Dominic, then. ‘Yes, Dominic, I am aware who Yeats is,’ she said tightly. ‘I’m not quite that thick, you know.’

He ignored the jibe. ‘So what are you doing here?’

‘Work. I’m here with my boss. We’re staying in the hotel just over there.’ She pointed across the park, through the thinning trees where the early morning sun was melting the frost on the grass. ‘We leave this morning,’ she added.

‘Who’s looking after Carrie and Joel while you’re away?’

‘Who do you think? Mum and Dad, of course.’

‘And they’re well?’

These questions from Dominic enquiring about someone else wrong-footed her. So often it was only his own welfare he was concerned about. ‘Sorry. Who?’

He turned sharply. ‘Just what exactly is your problem?’

‘I’m not aware I have a problem. All I was wondering was who you meant specifically.’

‘Is it entirely beyond the realms of your feeble understanding that I might ask after the children as well as your parents? Or have you imposed some kind of embargo on whose health I might be interested in? Just as you have when it comes to displays of grief.’ He shook his head. ‘Who’d have thought you’d turn into such a fascist?’

‘And who’d have thought you’d turn into an even bigger bastard than the one we thought you were destined to be.’

He glared at her, then suddenly tipped his head back and laughed. ‘I’m disappointed in you. How could you have ever underestimated me? I’d have hoped you of all people wouldn’t make that error. Me, I’m the biggest bastard going.’

‘Not entirely. You were very sweet to write to Carrie. And there were those chocolates you gave us.’

He shuddered. ‘I knew that was a mistake. And if I ever hear you call me sweet again, I shall have to kill you. Now shut up, you obnoxious harridan, and give me a hug. I’m in dire need of one.’

Surprised to find herself wrapped in his arms, Harriet breathed in the smell of his woollen overcoat and the remnants of aftershave and shaving cream - just for effect, he’d always used an old-fashioned cutthroat razor. He held her fiercely then let her go, grazing his stubbly jaw against her cheek. She saw that his eyes were moist and bloodshot.

‘You okay?’

‘As it happens, no I’m not. I’m under siege.’

‘Am I allowed to ask why?’

‘I think I’m on the verge of a breakdown.’

The directness of his words shocked her. She didn’t know what to say, and waited for him to go on.

He slumped forward, adopting the same position he’d had when she first saw him, elbows resting on his knees. ‘I’ve been doing a lot of thinking,’ he said softly. ‘I’ve come to the only possible conclusion: that nothing much matters. Everything’s so damned futile. Life has as much point to it as a mote of dust.’

‘You mean in the light of Felicity’s death?’ she asked.

His head snapped up. ‘Well, of course I do! What the hell else could I be referring to?’

‘Look, if you’re going to bite my head off every time I say something, then there’s no point in us talking. I might just as well leave you to — ’

He suddenly reached out to her. ‘Please. I’m sorry. Don’t go flouncing off in a huff. I couldn’t bear it. You don’t know how much it means to me bumping into you like this.’

His voice was unbearably contrite and Harriet felt a wave of compassion for him. ‘Okay. But be nice to me or I’ll walk.’

Grinding the heel of his shoe on the tarmac beneath him, he nodded. ‘Thank you. I’ll do my best to behave.’

After a lengthy pause, she said, ‘So tell me why you think everything’s so futile.’

‘I’d have thought that was obvious. It’s because I’m completely and utterly alone in this world. If I was to die tomorrow, who would mourn my passing? Who would even care?’

‘Aren’t you forgetting your parents and Miles? And what about me? I’d miss you. There’d be no one to fight with,’ she added lightly, hoping to lift the conversation.

But her attempt went unnoticed. ‘I’m talking about love. Real love. The kind of all-consuming love Yeats understood too well.’ He stared straight ahead. “‘And who could play it well enough if deaf and dumb and blind with love? He that made this knows all the cost, for he gave all his heart and lost.”’

‘You don’t have the monopoly on not being loved, Dominic. I don’t exactly have a queue of people lining up to worship the ground I walk on.’

‘But you have Carrie and Joel who rely on you. They need you. Who the hell needs me? What difference do I make to the world?’

‘You have your work. Your students. Your poetry.’

He shrugged. ‘It means nothing. Trust me. Come on, let’s walk.’ He grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet.

They linked arms and as they strolled along the path, a squirrel shot out from under a bush. Harriet felt Dominic start at the suddenness of it. Hearing him curse violently under his breath, she wondered, and not a little sadly, if he had been speaking the truth when he said he was on the verge of a breakdown. ‘How long have you been feeling like this, Dominic?’ she asked.

‘All my life.’

‘I’m being serious,’ she said.

‘So was I. I’ve always felt as though I was on the verge of something. Madness. Greatness. Whatever.’

‘Have you seen a doctor?’

‘No, but I have seen a priest. I’m worried about my spiritual welfare.’

She laughed, but immediately wished she hadn’t.

‘Sod you, Harriet. I was being serious again.’

‘It was so unexpected hearing you speak like that. I’m sorry.’

‘So you should be. That was the difference between you and Felicity. Felicity was perfectly in tune with me. She never misinterpreted anything I said. She could always read between the lines.’

Harriet came to a stop. ‘You know what? I’m sick of people criticising me.’

‘Then do something about it.’

‘I can’t. I’m me. I’m Harriet Swift. The way I think is the way I am. Why can’t people accept that?’

‘They probably do. But it doesn’t make it any less irritating. Jung said that the unconscious part of our own personality may be our best friend or our greatest enemy. Go figure.’ He gripped her arm and dragged her on. ‘So who else has been having a go at you, besides me?’

Thinking that he was the second person to quote Jung at her - Will had been the first - she told him about Howard saying she thought too literally, not realising until now just how deeply his comment had resonated with her. ‘Do you think I’m too literal?’ she asked Dominic.

‘Of course you are. You always have been.’

‘Is it a bad thing?’

‘Yes. You lose sight of the wider picture. You see only the detail.’

‘I’ve always been like it. It’s how I function.’

‘Then stop whingeing about it.’

‘Why are you always so unpleasant to me?’

‘I’m unpleasant to everyone; you’re not a special case, Hat. And why, I’d like to know, are we talking about you, when it’s me we’re supposed to be discussing?’

She smiled. ‘Because I’m far more interesting. Where are you staying?’

‘I have rooms in Trinity. Do you want to come and see them?’

‘Are they worth the effort?’

‘Not particularly. I’m hungry. Let’s go to your hotel for some breakfast.’

Glad that he was sounding less manic, and amused at the abrupt turnabout in the conversation, Harriet allowed him to steer her back in the direction of her hotel.

 

It was still early when they pushed open the door of the dining room; only a handful of guests had made it down. There was no sign of Howard.

‘How perfectly ghastly,’ Dominic said as they sat at a table overlooking the main street.

‘What?’ asked Harriet.

‘The other guests. They’re so ordinary-looking. Corporate wage slaves the lot of them, in their rolled-up shirtsleeves and brightly coloured ties.’

‘We can’t all be like you, Dominic. And anyway, who are you to criticise with your dishevelled, unshaven, haven’t-gone-to-bed look?’ She had to admit, though, even in his current state, he still outshone every man in the room.

He eyed her over the top of his menu. ‘How very observant of you.’

‘And correct?’

‘Unutterably
incorrect.’

‘What were you doing in the park so early, then, if not on your way back to Trinity after a night of debauchery?’

‘The same as you, presumably. I couldn’t sleep.’

When a waiter approached their table, they broke off from their conversation and ordered eggs Benedict for Dominic, scrambled eggs and bacon for Harriet and a pot of coffee with two rounds of toast.

Alone again, Dominic said, ‘Tell me something to cheer me up. How’s my brother? Behaving himself, I trust?’

‘The children and I spent the day with him on Sunday. We had lunch in Maywood then went for a walk in the park.’

‘Ye Gods! It sounds like something out of
Mary Pop-pins.’

‘Hey, it might not sound very exciting to you, but it’s the most fun I get these days, so quit the snide comments.’

He held up his hands in mock defence. ‘I apologise. I’m sure you all had a very jolly time of it.’

‘We did.’

‘Good. But take a tip from me, Hat. Please indulge yourself more. Treat yourself to some sinful pleasure now and then. It’ll do wonders to thaw that frosty streak of self-denial that’s ruining your life.’

She folded her arms and stared out of the window, her left knee twitching convulsively under the table. Why did he always have to spoil things? More to the point, why did she let him do it? She went on the attack, as she usually did whenever she was in his company. ‘Why haven’t you returned any of the messages I left you?’

‘I’ve been too busy.’

‘Liar. Aren’t you the least bit curious to know why I wanted to speak to you?’

‘Not especially. At last, here’s breakfast.’

When their waiter had left them alone, Dominic poured the coffee while Harriet buttered herself a piece of toast. ‘This is very domestic, isn’t it?’ he said. ‘I feel quite the husband.’