Stand by Me (11 page)
‘Times have changed,’ Seamus told her. ‘People don’t care any more.’
‘I know,’ said Evelyn grimly. ‘That’s half the problem. If girls were a bit more concerned about the shame, then they wouldn’t get themselves into this sort of trouble.’
The Bradys had had the same conversation a hundred times since Dominique had broken the news.
‘I wish it had been different,’ agreed Seamus. ‘But what can we do? She’s our daughter and we have to support her.’
‘I’d’ve liked to have given her a good hiding,’ said Evelyn.
‘It wouldn’t have changed anything.’
‘It would’ve made me feel a lot better,’ Evelyn told him. ‘And what she’s marrying into - this crowd. They’re so disrespectful too. All this laughing and joking and shouting and stuff.’
‘I suppose they want to have a good time,’ said Seamus.
‘At our expense.’
‘They’re not my sort of people,’ agreed Seamus. ‘But we’re related now so we’ll have to put up with them.’
‘That woman is a fright.’ Evelyn folded her napkin and dropped it on the table as she glanced down towards Lily Delahaye. ‘What does she look like?’
Lily was wearing a canary-yellow chiffon dress with matching yellow shoes and a white hat with yellow and blue feathers in the crown.
‘It’s an in-your-face outfit all right,’ agreed Seamus.
‘Restraint is what’s needed today,’ said Evelyn. ‘A bit of humility. Am I the only person to see that?’ She frowned as an explosion of laughter erupted from the Delahaye table. ‘It’s not a joyous occasion.’
‘Maybe it is,’ suggested Seamus. ‘She is married, after all. She’s having a baby.’
Evelyn sighed. ‘She’s taken the joy out of it for me. I had it planned very differently.’
‘Will you be happy?’
Gabriel and Dominique were sitting together in a corner of the room while the guests talked among themselves and some of them danced to the music of the DJ that Brendan had organised. It was the first opportunity they’d had to speak together since the wedding ceremony. Gabriel had assisted Father John, which, Dominique had to admit despite herself, had made it all the more special and memorable. She’d struggled to stop an emotional tear from sliding down her cheek when Brendan placed the ring on her finger, and she’d felt, profoundly, a sense of warmth and peace descend on her when Father John had pronounced them man and wife.
‘Of course,’ she assured him.
‘It’s a pity it happened like this.’
‘Oh, please, give me a break.’ She sighed deeply. ‘I’ve heard nothing but that from Mam since I told her. It’s a matter of timing, that’s all. So what’s the big deal?’
‘Dominique.’ Gabriel’s voice was gentle.
‘I know I’m a terrible sinful girl in the eyes of the Church, but I am very, very happy,’ she said.
‘You take it all so lightly,’ Gabriel told her. ‘It’s not just the getting pregnant. I’m not a fool, Dominique. I know these things happen. But getting married and having a baby when you’re so young is a very big step. Life is more complicated than you think.’
‘I want to get married and I want to have a baby and I know life isn’t always easy,’ she said. ‘I love Brendan and that’s what matters.’
‘But do you know him?’ asked Gabriel.
‘Yes,’ retorted Dominique. ‘I do. And I’ll tell you something else, Mr Smarty-Pants-Holier-than-Thou Brady, you shouldn’t be trying to put doubts into my mind. Not now. I’m married, and as far as you’re concerned it’s for life, so what you should actually be doing is giving me hints on how to make my marriage work. Not that I need them, because it will work. Just so’s you know!’
Gabriel smiled at her. ‘I’m glad you love him,’ he said. ‘I am, truly. And I know that things aren’t the same as they were when Mam and Dad were growing up. I know the world is changing. I just want to be sure that you’re happy, Dominique, that’s all.’
‘I am,’ she assured him.
‘Hi, Gabriel!’ Emma Walsh, looking stunning in a skin-tight red dress with a sequinned bodice and wide shoulders, sat down beside him and prevented Dominique from giving her brother the hug she’d intended. ‘How’s it going?’
‘Great,’ said Gabriel. ‘And you?’
‘Oh, I’m good,’ Emma told him. ‘Working hard. I was promoted last week.’
‘Excellent news,’ he said. ‘I’m sure you deserved it.’
‘Absolutely,’ said Emma. ‘How are you? How’re things in the seminary?’
‘No different from when we last spoke,’ said Gabriel. ‘Still lots to study.’
‘Haven’t you decided it’s all a bit of a waste of time yet?’ asked Emma.
‘In what way?’
‘Well, when you’re ordained, you’re going to work in a parish, aren’t you?’
‘I hope so.’
‘In which case, most of your time will be spent dealing with crazy old bats arguing over whose turn it is to do a reading at Mass or arrange the flowers for the altar or stuff like that. Or you’ll be visiting the sick - that’s a big thing in parish work, isn’t it? But you know, Gabriel, I visit my gran every week and do her shopping for her and make sure she’s taking her medicine and stuff, and I can manage it. You hardly need to do much studying for that.’
‘You have a point,’ Gabriel agreed. ‘But we do need to know and understand scripture. And there’s a whole spiritual side to the journey—’
‘Oh, bollocks,’ said Emma, which made both Gabriel and Dominique open their eyes wide in astonishment. ‘Well, honestly,’ she continued. ‘Spiritual journey my arse. What you need, Gabriel Brady, is someone to put their arms around you and say that they love you.’
Gabriel smiled at her. ‘I have what I need, Emma. I really do.’
‘You’re such a fool,’ retorted Emma.
‘Emma!’ Dominique looked at the other girl, who’d clearly had a couple of drinks too many. ‘You can’t say things like that to Gabriel. He’s a genuine believer.’
‘It’s sad,’ said Emma. ‘It really is. That he thinks that way and that you believe him.’
Dominique shot a sympathetic look at her brother, then stood up and smoothed down the ivory dress Evelyn had made for her.
‘Come on, Emma,’ she said. ‘Let’s go and find Maeve. Have a talk about the old times in school.’
‘They weren’t that long ago,’ said Emma, who didn’t want to move.
‘You should go with Dominique,’ said Gabriel. ‘I need to talk to her parents-in-law.’
‘You’ll make a lousy priest,’ said Emma.
‘He won’t,’ said Dominique. ‘You know he won’t.’
‘I’ll circulate.’ Gabriel smiled at both of them. ‘Talk to you later.’
He walked across the room and began talking to Maurice Delahaye. Dominique hauled Emma to her feet.
‘You’re being really silly,’ she said. ‘There’s no point in saying that sort of stuff to him.’
‘I need to save him,’ said Emma.
‘From what?’
‘From himself.’
‘Gabriel’s fine,’ said Dominique.
‘You’re wrong. You think you know him, but you don’t. He’s not a man for celibacy and loneliness.’
‘He’s my brother,’ Dominique told her, ‘and I know him. He truly does have a vocation. He’s not interested in women or sex. He lives his life on a higher plane. You have it all wrong, Emma. And I didn’t realise that you still felt . . . I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked you here today. It wasn’t fair.’
‘I wanted to come. I still can’t stop thinking about him.’
‘You need displacement activity.’ Dominique took her by the hand. ‘Come on, I’m going to introduce you to my brother-in-law, Greg. He’s Gabriel-lite.’
‘Huh?’
‘He’s a bit soulful but at least he’s not a priest.’
Emma smiled faintly. ‘OK.’
‘Great,’ said Dominique. ‘Let’s go.’
Dominique had been right about Greg, thought Emma, as she rested her head on his chest while the band played some slow, smoochy numbers. He was a quiet man who let her talk about herself. Gabriel had also encouraged her to talk about herself, but the difference between the two of them, she realised now, was that Gabriel seemed to think of her as some kind of case study, while Greg treated her like a person.
She lifted her head and smiled at him. He smiled back. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Gabriel Brady glance in her direction. So she kissed Greg quickly on the lips, and then rested her head on his chest again.
Dominique hadn’t expected to spend her wedding reception dishing out advice to Emma, nor to Maeve, who suddenly cornered her and asked her if she thought that sleeping with a guy on the first date was a bad idea (Dominique thought it probably was, but she told Maeve she hadn’t a clue), nor to Suzy McIntyre from two doors down, who asked her how she knew that Brendan was the one. Dominique realised that they respected her more because she was married, even if it had only been for a few hours. But she felt different inside. More mature, perhaps. Wiser. More grown up.
And then Brendan came up to her and said it was time to dance again, and they did the birdie song and she didn’t feel grown up at all.
Everybody knew that they were staying in the hotel and not going anywhere that night, but when the DJ finished for the evening, he still made all the guests form a tunnel of love for the happy couple, and so Dominique and Brendan ran beneath an arch of outstretched hands to the door of the small function room, where Dominique threw her bouquet into the crowd and Maeve, squealing with excitement, caught it.
Then they went upstairs to their room, where they opened a bottle of champagne (she thought she could get to like champagne; her first taste of it had been at the reception itself), and after that they made love and Brendan fell asleep.
Dominique was too excited to sleep. The wedding itself had been great fun, but there was still the honeymoon to look forward to. They were going to Majorca for a week, despite the fact that Brendan had told her that he was terrible in the sun and that he went a glorious tomato red. But ever since Maeve had been to Majorca, Dominique had wanted to go too. Brendan had given in on the honeymoon and Dominique had kissed him over and over again and told him that he was the best fiancé in the whole world and he was going to be the best husband in the world too. The flight wasn’t until later the following day, but now that the wedding was over, the thought of it was keeping her awake. She sat on the bed while Brendan snored gently and told herself over and over again that she had hit the jackpot the day Brendan Delahaye had sat at her table in American Burger. She told her baby that he (she’d decided that it was definitely a he) was a lucky boy because he had a mother and father who were crazy about each other and who’d be crazy about him too.
She pulled the covers around her and tried to sleep, but she failed miserably. An hour later, with Brendan still out for the count, she got up, put on her loose jeans and a jumper and went downstairs. She expected the public areas to be deserted, and they almost were. But there was a man sitting in one of the big armchairs, holding a glass of whiskey in his hand and staring into space.
‘Greg?’ She walked over to her brother-in-law. ‘Are you OK?’
‘Domino.’ He looked at her in surprise, and she grinned at him.
‘I love the way you all call me that,’ she said.
‘It’s what Brendan calls you,’ said Greg. ‘We thought it was your real name. My mother wondered what sort of person would call her daughter after a game. That sort of game, anyway. If you’d been called Camogie, or even Hockey, she’d have understood.’
Dominique laughed, and told him that she was named after a saint.
‘Having met your parents, that makes more sense,’ agreed Greg. ‘So why are you out of bed? Something the matter?’
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