No Enemy but Time (28 page)

Claire had never felt more uncomfortable in her life. She had been tempted to tell Claudia, rather than sneak off and meet Frank, pretending they were going to choose a wedding present up in Dublin. Then she decided not to risk a row with her mother. For a row there would certainly be. Claudia was touchy and suffering from what Philip described as wedding fever. He was tolerant of her moods, and advised Claire to be the same. When she protested that she was the bride and ought to be the one with the nerves, he only laughed and said she was too Irish to be bothered by the odd arrangement going wrong. All her mother's English blood was coming out, that was the trouble.

The morning of the day she was going to meet Kevin Ryan behind his back, Philip gave her Blanche's Georgian necklace to wear on her wedding day. His mother had taken the family jewellery with her rather than surrender it to Eileen Ryan, but she was too honourable not to will it back to her son. Claire didn't know how to look him in the face when he handed her the big leather case and kissed her.

‘That's my wedding present, darling,' he said.

‘Oh, Dad! Oh, it's gorgeous. Are you quite sure?'

‘Absolutely,' Philip answered. All the Arbuthnot brides for the last hundred years had worn that necklace on their wedding day. His daughter Claire would be the last. He didn't say so. Feeling deceitful and wretched, Claire went off to meet her brother, and drive in to the Half House by the back entrance.

He noticed immediately there was something wrong. She told him about the necklace.

‘It's my own fault,' Claire said. ‘It was cowardly of me to tell them lies. I should have said straight out where I was going.'

Frank disagreed. ‘No, you shouldn't,' he said. He pulled the car in to the side of the road. ‘Look, we don't have to go. I know I asked you because I'm fond of my uncle and I wanted you to meet him, and maybe you would like him too. But I shouldn't have mixed you up in this. I'm sorry, Clarry. Come on, we'll forget it.'

‘No, we won't,' she said. ‘The whole thing is so bloody stupid if you think about it. Why shouldn't you be friends with your own mother's brother? Why shouldn't I spend half an hour with him, and not feel like a criminal?'

‘Because that's the way Ireland is,' he responded. ‘Them and us. That's what I'm fighting against. But you don't have to; you'll be living in England soon and none of this will touch you any more.'

‘Now you're making me feel guilty,' Claire said. ‘Of course I'll care what happens at home! Don't you think I mind about you having to leave Riverstown and being only just on speaking terms with Dad and Claudia? Oh, do drive on, for God's sake … we're going to be late.'

Ryan was a small man and she hadn't expected that. Small and sharp-featured, with a curious head carriage like a tortoise poking out of its shell. His wife was very American, very polite and quite cold towards her. They both shook hands, said all the right things, while conveying their hostility. Claire had been brought up with good manners. She knew how to cope with a situation which was essentially unpromising and carry it off. She praised the house and decorations, which she privately thought rather vulgar and pretentious, and avoided all mention of the fact that her mother had lived there during her first marriage. Nobody said anything about the Hamiltons, but the significance of the change of ownership was implicit in the Senator's every word and gesture.

The Ryans were proprietary with Frank, which irritated her, and he was obviously very intimate with both of them. Subtly she was isolated. There was a triumphant undercurrent directed at her, as if Kevin Ryan had won a battle that she didn't know was being fought. In the end she got up to go, because the sense of being hated made her angry. And worried. Worried for Frank, who was so sure these people were his friends because of the blood tie.

‘Thank you for showing me the house,' she said to Mary Rose. ‘It's lovely. I'm sure you'll be very happy here.'

Ryan had a cool, dry hand that rested very briefly in hers as he said goodbye. He embraced his nephew.

‘We'll see you soon, Frank. Mind yourself now.'

They drove off and she saw them standing side by side, and the Senator's wife waved, like someone in a Hollywood movie, as they rounded the corner and went through the back drive.

‘They were a bit shy with you,' Frank said. ‘They're normally very warm-hearted.'

Claire looked out of the window. ‘I'm sure they are. I don't like either of them, Frank. And I don't trust him.'

‘You've been prejudiced, that's why,' he said. ‘Anyway, thanks for coming. For what it's worth, they both liked you. He told me so when we were leaving.'

Claire said, ‘Then I'm wrong. I hope I am. Where are we going? This isn't the way home.'

‘We're going to choose a wedding present,' he answered. ‘That's what you told everyone at home and that's what we're going to do.'

‘The only present I want from you is to make it up with Dad,' she said.

‘I've told you, I'll try. But I wouldn't bank on him responding. I thought you might like some Waterford glass.'

‘That sounds nice,' Claire said. Her eyes filled with tears. He was cold to her for the first time in their lives because she had said what she thought about that unpleasant man and his frosty wife. She felt hurt and confused. She didn't want to go to Dublin with him and choose Waterford glass or anything else. She wanted to go home to the safe haven of Riverstown. More than anything, she wanted to be with Neil.

‘Well,' Mary Rose asked, when they went back inside. ‘What did you make of her?'

He sneered. ‘If I told you, you'd go on at me for using dirty language,' he said. ‘She's typical of her class and her kind. She needs a boot up the ass. Come on, for Christ's sake let's have a decent drink and forget we had to have her here.' He poured himself a whiskey that made Mary Rose wince.

‘I didn't take to her at all,' she said. ‘So different from Frank. He's so warm and loving. You wouldn't think they were related. I'll have a vodka on the rocks, dear. And not too big.'

‘He's different,' Kevin agreed, ‘because he's my sister Eileen's son. He's a good lad. Don't worry about him.'

She sighed gently. ‘If only he'd take to the Church,' she said. ‘I pray every night that he will.'

Kevin sent down a quarter of the whiskey in one gulp. She was a good, almost a saintly woman, his wife. Too good to be told too much about the harsh realities of freeing Ireland. Let her pray on for his nephew.

‘He'll come round in time,' he comforted. ‘You said it yourself. God's grace is in him.'

There was a family dinner the night before the wedding. Neil's father had arrived and made a good impression. Philip liked him. Claudia had begun to relax, like a general in sight of victory. The caterers had been tamed, the flower arrangers had worked miracles in the church and the big marquee outside on the main lawn was a bower of flowers and foliage. Everything was poised for the next day, and there was an air of excitement throughout the household. Even Philip was infected and brought out a private bottle of vintage champagne for Colonel Fraser before the rest of the family arrived. There were twenty-three in all to dinner. Aunts and cousins and old uncles who'd dug themselves out of the bogs, as Claudia said, to celebrate Claire's marriage. God knew how some of them got there at all, they were so old. Philip actually thought two had died till he got letters from them. There were young relations giggling and laughing over their drinks, all dressed in evening clothes, Claudia looking very handsome in dark blue. And Claire in green, with the Arbuthnot necklace glittering in the light. Frank arrived early. His father introduced him.

‘This is my son Frank, Colonel Fraser. I'll get you a glass. This is rather special.'

The Colonel smiled at him. ‘I hear you're a banker,' he said amiably. He had light eyes and bushy eyebrows that were gingery grey. There were traces of Neil in him, the same staccato way of speaking that made everything sound like a command. His wife was dead; one less of them for Claire to cope with, was Frank's reaction.

He said, ‘Yes, I'm opening a new merchant bank next month in Dublin. It's American-backed actually.'

‘Oh? Well, that must be a good thing. Difficult times for you over here at the moment. Your father was just saying the trouble's started creeping down to the South. Robberies and things like that. I hope you'll have good security in your bank.'

Frank said quietly, ‘I don't think we'll be in any danger. This is very good champagne.'

Then Claudia came in and she walked up to him in her purposeful way and kissed him briskly. ‘Hallo, Frank. You've got a drink, I see. One for me, Philip darling. Claire's on her way down now. We must finish this bottle before the hordes arrive. You can't waste a '64 vintage on mere relatives.' She laughed her hearty laugh, joined by Colonel Fraser.

Frank came up to his sister. For a moment he looked at her. The visit to Kevin Ryan and the silent, miserable trip to Dublin afterwards was forgotten at that moment, as if it had never happened.

‘You look great,' he said. He wanted to put his arms round her and hold her as if they were children again, but he couldn't with everyone watching.

‘Frank, darling,' she said. ‘It's so wonderful to be all together tonight. Look what Dad's given me.' She touched the circle of diamonds at her throat.

He said, ‘I thought you'd wear them tomorrow.'

She led him towards her parents. ‘Neil's given me the most marvellous pearl necklace. He's asked me to wear that instead. Dad doesn't mind, do you?' She linked her arm through Philip's and smiled up at him.

‘Of course not,' he said. ‘They're magnificent. Three perfectly matched rows. You're a very spoilt girl.'

Colonel Fraser beamed. The more he saw of his daughter-in-law and her parents, the more he liked them. The brother was a dour fellow. Neil hadn't talked about him much. Apparently he didn't come to Riverstown that often. Lovely bride she'd be, he thought. Do Neil a power of good to have a wife like that. Essential if he was going to get ahead in the party.

There was a knock on the door. Molly, eyes shining and pink-cheeked with excitement, came in to say, ‘The cars are comin' up the drive, Mam,' and they exited into the hall to greet them. Claire was unashamedly happy. Everyone kissed her and exclaimed over her dress and Philip's wedding present, and after dinner she rushed upstairs and down again with Neil's pearls to show them all.

Frank was surrounded too, beset by relations he hadn't seen since he was very young. Some of the young cousins started flirting with him. He'd forgotten the warmth of being in a family circle. He was disappointed to find himself seated far away from Claire, but he dismissed as imagination the feeling that Claudia was keeping them apart. If only the bridegroom was different. If only this wedding meant she'd live in Ireland. Couldn't she look at that pompous old man and see that the son would end up like him? No, she couldn't. He forced himself once more to accept the inevitable and hide his feelings. She was so happy, he had no right to quibble. But why did she have to wear his bloody pearls instead of her own family heirloom? His anger fastened on that intrusion. When he was examining them, he was able to whisper to her.

‘Clarry, don't you know the superstition? Pearls are tears. You should wear Dad's present on your wedding day.'

‘You've been listening to Sheena and Molly,' she teased him. ‘Tears, my eye. Don't be silly, Frank. Besides, I'm wearing that sapphire pin you gave me. It's my “something blue”.'

‘Are you? That's very sweet of you.'

She thought, Oh God, I know he's so unhappy deep down. ‘It's like taking a bit of you down the aisle with me,' she said quietly. ‘I love Neil, but it won't make any difference to us. You'll always be my best friend.'

Philip watched them from his place on the sofa, murmuring a word here and there to his cousin Alice, who'd come all the way from Cork. How could Claire be so fond of him? He didn't understand it. He would never understand how his son could inspire that degree of loyalty and affection. Now he could look at him and admit that he had never found him lovable; never felt him a congenial companion, either as a child or a man. He had concealed his dislike and his contempt for his son ever since Claire's engagement was announced. But after tomorrow there would be no need to pretend. He had been to see his solicitors and the changes had been made. If he died that very night, Riverstown was safe from Frank Arbuthnot. Safe from the kind of man who had thrown the Mahoneys out on the word of a slut who didn't know how to treat them. Safe from the sponging intellectuals who frequented his house in Meath, flattering the rich fool that they accepted him as one of themselves. Safe from the native enemy who wanted to destroy everything the Arbuthnots represented.

He sipped a nightcap whiskey and decided that his daughter ought to go to bed if she weren't to be tired for her wedding. Frank was staying with them that night. It was the last time he would sleep under the roof of Riverstown.

Neil and his best man stayed at Lawlor's Hotel the night before the wedding. Breaking with tradition, he had seen Claire in the afternoon of the family dinner party and given her his present. He had felt shy and uncertain of himself for the first time. He was in an alien environment, however friendly and well disposed. They were a very close-knit group of people, many interrelated, all with similar backgrounds. And there were so many of them. Cousins and half-uncles and great-aunts.

The Frasers were thin on the ground, their own friends few in number. He'd already arranged a large reception at the House of Commons after their honeymoon. That would take care of his political and social obligations. He couldn't wait to get the ceremony and the reception over with, and take Claire away. The pearl necklace was not a family heirloom. His grandfather was a middle-class businessman who'd made a fortune. He wouldn't have dreamed of spending thousands of hard-earned pounds on jewellery for his wife. Neil had seen the old diamond necklace and felt inferior because he had nothing comparable to give her. He had heard people in Ireland talking derisively of ‘new money' and felt it was probably said about him.