No Enemy but Time (26 page)

‘Are you taking Frank somewhere?'

He shook his head. ‘No. I've a business meeting. You take care of him tonight. Don't wait up for me, Rose. I may be late home.'

When Frank came in that evening, Mary Rose was especially thoughtful. She pressed a second drink on him, kept little Eileen up beyond her bedtime because he loved to play with the child and conveyed that she was only too ready to listen if he had a private sorrow to confide.

‘Kevin's going to be late,' she said after dinner was cleared away. He was such a nice boy, she thought. He always helped with the dishes, though you could see he'd never had to do anything domestic for himself. ‘Would you like to sit with me for a while and be cosy?' she enquired.

Frank said, ‘What a nice idea. Is there anything on television worth watching?' Kevin had told her, of course. She was so friendly and kind-hearted he couldn't hurt her feelings by shutting her out.

Mary Rose trilled her gay laugh. ‘My,' she said, ‘I just love the way you say “television”. It's so cute!'

They settled down into the deep flowery sofa, with the massive colour set watching them with its blind eye. Normally Mary Rose took a chair nearby. ‘That's your Mommy's chair,' Kevin would say to his children, and no one else used it. This time she came and curled up beside Frank.

‘Frankie dear,' she said. ‘Kevin told me about your family trouble. I just wanted you to know, I feel for you. I really do.'

For a moment he was afraid she was going to pat his hand. Family trouble was a quaint way to describe Claire's engagement.

‘Thanks, Mary Rose. I'm sorry if I've seemed a bit out of sorts. It was such a shock to me, that's all.'

‘And you'd no idea?' she murmured. Kevin had been sparing with the details.

‘Oh, I knew he was taking her out,' Frank said. ‘I was at the dance with her when she met him. But I didn't believe it would come to this. I thought she was just having fun in London and he'd drop out when she came home to Ireland. It's my fault, that's what's getting me. I could have stopped it, if I'd thought about her instead of myself!'

Mary Rose didn't know what to say next. The Tory politician and his bride sounded rather well-matched as Kevin described them.

‘Is she like you? She's a half-sister, as I recall.'

‘Not to look at,' Frank answered. ‘She's blonde, not a bit like Dad or me. We've always done everything together since we were children. I've never been as close to anyone as I am to her. I'd mind losing her whoever it was. But he won't make her happy. That's the only thing that matters.' He looked at Mary Rose. ‘She's a lovely girl,' he said simply. ‘She deserves someone special. And it isn't Neil Fraser or anyone like him.'

‘Oh, dear,' was all she could think of to say. Kevin was right when he said Frank couldn't see his sister as she really was. Even after she'd chosen such an awful man to marry. He was surely a devoted brother. She couldn't imagine one of her boys talking about a sister like that.

‘Would you like me to have a Mass said for her?' she enquired. ‘I could fix it with Father Joe before you leave.'

For a moment he was so irritated that he actually got up rather than sit beside her. ‘She's not dead,' he said. ‘She's just marrying the wrong man. Sorry, Mary Rose. I know how much the Church means to you. I don't see it the same way, that's all. Have a Mass said if you like; it's very sweet of you.'

He turned away, ashamed that he'd been curt. But the insistent, gentle pressure on him to join the Ryans on a Sunday had been the only jarring note during his stay. He would not go to Mass with them. Not even when little Eileen asked him. He suspected Mary Rose of prompting the child.

She looked up at him from the sofa. ‘If you had the Faith, you don't know how much it would help you in your life,' she said.

‘Maybe,' Frank answered. He felt he was nearer getting to know the real woman at that moment than ever before.

‘There've been times when I doubted,' she went on. ‘Times when I didn't have the strength to do my duty by Kevin and the children. I remember when my daddy died. I broke up for a while. But God helped me come through. I have real faith now, Frank, and I'm happy. I just wish you could have that happiness too.'

‘You're a very good woman, Mary Rose. My uncle is a lucky man.'

There was a pause between them then. She got up with a little sigh and took her place in her own chair.

‘I'll pray for your sister,' she said. ‘You won't mind that, will you?'

She had a sweet smile, he thought. At times he wondered whether there was anything behind it, like the nice things she was always saying about everyone. A sharp or critical comment never passed her lips. He had wondered how Kevin could live with such undiluted Christian charity – if it was that, and not a stupid woman taking refuge in a saintly pose. Now Frank was certain. It was not a pose. Mary Rose was living her religion.

‘You go ahead and pray,' he said gently. ‘If there's anyone listening, it's probably to you.'

Kevin Ryan's business meeting went on till after midnight. It took place in a large private house twenty miles outside the city centre. There were half-a-dozen men present, shut up in a downstairs room. Whiskey and cigars were on the table. The two prominent citizens of Irish descent who had met Frank Arbuthnot on his first trip over, were among the six at the meeting. A man in his mid-forties presided. He was not American, and he had entered the United States on a false visa.

They had discussed items on the agenda and the last but one concerned the new Boston Irish merchant bank that was scheduled to open in Dublin in the next month. It was Kevin Ryan's responsibility and he had made a long and detailed report. They were supplying the money, which would give them an eighty per cent holding. Frank Arbuthnot would finance the remaining twenty per cent. The non-American who presided over the meeting had been born in Downpatrick, but spent the last five years living in the Republic under an alias.

‘This changes the picture,' he announced. ‘If Arbuthnot's brother-in-law is a Tory MP, I don't see how we can risk him saying something to his sister that could be passed on.'

He looked round the table. One of the funding politicians nodded.

‘It makes a difference,' he agreed.

Kevin gathered himself for the fight. He had been expecting the top Provisional leader to make exactly that point.

He said, ‘You're wrong, Joe. You're both wrong. My nephew is sick to his stomach at this marriage. I spent the day with him. I know what he thinks of it. I know how he feels. I tell you, he was over-close to the half-sister. Now she's betrayed him, as he sees it. He'll come nearer to us. Already he says I'm like a father to him. And he's like a son to me. I tell you, this is a blessing. This cuts the last link with that family of his.'

He looked from one to the other. They all knew him and trusted him. He had proved a shrewd and cunning comrade in arms over the years.

‘If I didn't trust him,' he said, ‘I'd be the first to say forget it, set up with someone else.'

‘There isn't anyone else,' the Provo leader pointed out. ‘Arbuthnot's the cover man we need for this. Anyone from our side would be suspected. Dublin's not blind to what goes on. They've a tight eye open for money being laundered for us.' He lit a cigarette and coughed. He had weak lungs, legacy of a miserably impoverished childhood and medical neglect. Three years' imprisonment under the Internment Act of '71 hadn't helped. ‘So we need him, but how much does he have to know? We'll have a plant there, right beside him as soon as the bank opens, isn't that right?'

‘Eammon Dempster's granddaughter,' Kevin announced. ‘We all know what the Dempsters did for Irish freedom. She's going to work for my nephew. They're close, as you might say.' He gave a sly grin. ‘I wouldn't be surprised if he didn't marry her one day. But answering the question how much does he have to know, I'd say there's no way we can get the amount we've in mind through the bank without him finding out. Would you agree with that, Pat?'

‘I would,' the older man said. ‘We've got to trust him. We've got to recruit him and make him one of us. Otherwise it won't work on any scale at all. And I'm not putting a million dollars into this unless it's making a proper contribution to the Cause.'

Kevin said, ‘Leave this to me. I'm closer to Frank than anyone. Get this sister's weddin' out of the way first. He'll join us and he'll work with us. I'll guarantee it.'

‘He's got to commit himself before July,' the man from Ulster said.

Kevin nodded. ‘He will,' he said. ‘By the time the bank opens, he'll have taken the oath.'

Chapter 6

‘Oh, Frank, I'm so glad to see you. Why didn't you come to our party?'

‘I was up to my eyes in bank business,' he said. He had never lied to Claire before. But things were changing already, even before she committed herself to another man. Truth is the first casualty when people drift apart. He'd read that somewhere, and never imagined it could apply to them. It seemed so odd to meet in Dublin instead of at Riverstown where they belonged. But it was his suggestion and she didn't argue. They sat in the lounge of the Hibernian Hotel. He'd booked a table for lunch. It was mid-week, and the hotel was full. He thought she looked thinner. ‘I sent you a cable, after all,' he protested. ‘Was it a good party?'

She sipped her drink. Gin and tonic. She called it a G and T, which was something she'd picked up in England. He hadn't heard it before and it grated on him.

‘Yes, it was great. Everybody came. But I missed you. It wasn't really bank business, was it? You're not pleased, are you?'

Suddenly there was no need for lies. ‘You don't have to pretend, Frank. I know you.'

‘That's why I didn't come,' he said. ‘I couldn't believe it. I couldn't pretend to be happy about it. Are you sure it's what you want? You haven't been rushed into it, have you? You can always break an engagement.'

‘No,' she answered. ‘I've been living with him for six months. I didn't want to tell you, but I do know what I'm doing. I want to marry Neil; nobody's making me do it.'

He said slowly, ‘But do you love him? There's more to it than bed.'

She laid her hand on his for a moment. Neil's ring glittered. ‘I do love him,' she said. ‘We're very happy together. Apart from bed, and that's marvellous. The only thing that will spoil it for me is if you and Neil don't get on.'

He said, ‘Then that settles it. If you love him, you'll hear no more from me about it. And so long as he makes you happy, we'll get on fine.'

‘Now I really am happy,' she said. And he knew then that whatever he felt, he must conceal it.

‘Let's have lunch,' he suggested. ‘Then you can get all the details off your chest. I can see you're bursting to tell me all about it.'

It was a long lunch; he bought champagne, and a lot of the businessmen nearby envied him such a stunning girlfriend. He was told all about the wedding dress and the bridesmaids and the flowers. In spite of the emptiness in his heart, she made him join in and laugh with her, as if it were the happiest prospect for him too.

‘You're going to be principal usher,' she announced. ‘Neil's got some friend he was at school with as best man, and there won't be too many people from England. Can you believe it, he said some of them are scared to come over?'

He didn't take it up, and Claire went on. ‘Four hundred guests; Dad's going to be broke at the end of it. And Mummy's in her element. You'd think it was her wedding instead of mine!'

‘I can imagine,' he said. He could imagine only too well. Claudia would be delighted with Neil Fraser as a husband for her daughter. She would get the maximum out of organizing every last detail to perfection. He wondered what his father thought of Neil. But of course he would never ask him.

‘I think this might actually mend things between you and Dad,' she said, surprising him.

‘Why should it?' Frank asked.

‘Because he's happy and he seems much mellower these days. I thought he'd be bad-tempered and fed up with all the fuss, but he's entered into everything. Frank darling, make a big effort with him and see what happens. You may be surprised.'

He said gently, not to disappoint her, ‘I'll try.'

‘And by the way,' Claire said, as they were driving back. ‘What's this I hear about a live-in girl friend at Meath? I think she's answered the phone to me once or twice. It certainly wasn't old Biddy Mahoney.'

‘She's a nice girl,' Frank explained. ‘We get on well; she's going to work in the new bank in July.'

‘She's a Paddy, isn't she? And don't bite my head off for saying it!'

‘She's Irish,' Frank said firmly. ‘And a Catholic, and her grandfather fought alongside Michael Collins. You can't be more “Paddy” than that!'

‘Is it serious? If you're thinking of making it up with Dad – he'd have a fit.'

‘I'm not thinking of making it up with him,
you
are. And it wouldn't be any of his business if it was serious. So happens, it's not. It's a good arrangement and it suits us both, but that's as far as it goes.'

‘For her too?' Claire questioned.

He sped away from a set of traffic lights. ‘I've never said I loved her. There are no strings for either of us.'

After a moment Claire said, ‘Will I meet her?'

‘I don't see any point,' Frank answered. ‘But I'll tell you what I would like. I'd like you to meet my uncle Kevin Ryan. Just quietly, next time he's over. Will you do that for me? Dad and Claudia needn't know.'

‘Frank,' Claire answered, ‘if you want me to meet him, of course I will. I don't want to upset them before the wedding, but I'm not a child to be told who I can and can't see. Just give me a ring when he's here.'