That Gallagher Girl (18 page)

 

ADAIR
(
genially
)

 

SHANE
(
to RÍO
)

 

ADAIR

 

SHANE
(
to ADAIR
)

 

RÍO
(
distraught
)

 

SHANE

A beat, as SHANE shakes his head in sorrow and disbelief. RÍO doesn't answer.

 

SHANE

 

ADAIR
(
indignant
)

SHANE
(
snarling
)

 

RÍO

SHANE turns, stares haggardly at RÍO.

SHANE

 

RÍO

 

SHANE

RÍO

RÍO begins to cry.

 

RÍO

 

SHANE

 

ADAIR
(
warningly
)

SHANE grabs ADAIR by the lapel.

SHANE

ADAIR

ADAIR smashes his fist into SHANE's face. SHANE staggers back, then recovers his equilibrium. He rubs his jaw ruefully, then narrows his eyes at ADAIR.

 

SHANE

SHANE aims a punch at ADAIR, who ducks nimbly out of the way.

 

ADAIR

 

RÍO

RÍO is joined by a troubled FINN, who clearly does not know which side to take. He insinuates his way between the two men and receives an accidental blow to the side of his face from SHANE.

 

FINN

FINN's friend DECLAN grabs ADAIR by the collar, and forces him across the road. They are followed by SHANE, whom FINN is trying unsuccessfully to restrain. The postmistress' Airedale DOG, intent on joining in the fun, bounds – barking – towards them, and starts trying to hump SHANE's leg. SHANE shakes the DOG off, and lunges again for ADAIR, backing him against the sea wall.

 

ADAIR

The WEDDING GUESTS have left the pub
en masse
, and are standing on the pavement, clutching their pints. The FIDDLER has launched into ‘Toss the Feathers', the
BODHRÁN
PLAYER is battering away at his drum.

 

RÍO

SHANE grapples ADAIR into a chokehold, and ADAIR, red-faced, is doubled over the sea wall. But the DOG is dogged, and has again wrapped his forelegs around SHANE's shin. SHANE loses his balance and flails wildly as he stumbles against the wall. It just takes one shove from ADAIR. There is an almighty splash as SHANE hits the water, and then we hear the sound of an approaching siren.

 

RÍO

Shane!

ANOTHER ANGLE showing the consternation of the crowd across the road. A GIRL in a bandana and a black dress is clearly enjoying the spectacle, dancing from foot to foot, and laughing out loud. IZZY runs across to the sea wall and flings her arms around ADAIR.

 

IZZY
(
frantic
)

Daddy! Daddy – are you all right?

The BYSTANDERS surge towards the sea wall. From their POV, we see SHANE floundering in the sea.

 

FINN
(
urgent
)

The buoy lands next to Shane. He clutches it, and grim-faced and muttering imprecations, sets out on the long, ignominious doggy paddle that will take him to the pier.

DISSOLVE TO BLACK.

Chapter Thirteen

It had been even better than Cat expected. Shane had ended up in the drink, and Adair had had to be carted off to A&E with a suspected broken toe. She watched the clip over and over again on YouTube, pausing at the bit that showed her gleeful tapdance on the footpath outside O'Toole's.

‘I wonder who “Lizzie Moore” is, who posted this?' she mused out loud.

‘You're perverse, you know that?' Finn told her, setting a bowl of pasta in front of her. ‘My da could have ended up seriously hurt.'

‘But isn't he grand? Sure, no one got hurt really, apart from you.'

Finn was nursing a mother of a black eye from the accidental dig his da had given him. They were back in Coral Mansion, in their wedding finery still, sitting at the kitchen table. Finn had made spaghetti bolognese for all three of them, but Shane wasn't hungry. After he'd showered and changed, he'd disappeared off up to one of the palatial bedrooms with a bottle of Jameson. Cat was disappointed, because she'd wanted to talk to him about selling more paintings to his wealthy pals.

‘Adair got hurt,' Finn pointed out, helping himself to Parmesan cheese. ‘If he really has a broken toe, he won't be going anywhere fast. They'll have to cancel the honeymoon.'

‘Yeah, well, he kind of deserves it, for stealing your ma from your da. Pass the Parmesan, please, Finnster. Did Shane really buy this house for Río?'

‘Yes. I think he thought it was the ultimate romantic gesture – the one that would finally send her hurtling into his arms.'

‘What'll he do now?'

‘I haven't a clue. It's unlikely he'll get a buyer for it.'

‘So in the meantime, we can stay on here, and just carry on doing it up?' Cat finished piling on the Parmesan, and gave him a winsome smile.

Finn shrugged. ‘I guess. As long as he keeps paying me. I've no other work lined up.'

‘You could try getting a scuba-diving gig somewhere.'

Finn shook his head. ‘I don't want to move too far away from Lissamore right now. I've got a feeling that something's up with Ma.'

‘Like what?'

‘I dunno. She just seems in really weird form. Didn't you notice that she was in bits during the wedding ceremony?'

‘Well, that poem you read probably didn't help. Reminding her about growing old and grey, and all that jazz. Maybe she's going through the menopause. They say women can get awful depressed when that happens. Maybe she needs HRT or Prozac, or something.'

Finn looked gloomily into his bowl, and swizzled spaghetti around his fork. ‘I'd say Da could do with Prozac after today.'

‘Yeah,' agreed Cat. ‘He must feel like a complete, com
plete
tool. And he'll feel like even more of a plonker when he finds out he's all over YouTube.'

‘Oh, fuck. And the press'll be after him like a herd of hyenas.'

‘A
pack
of hyenas, Finn, I think you'll find they're called.' Cat remembered the woman she'd met earlier in the day in O'Toole's, before the fisticuffs on the street had scuppered the wedding party. ‘You might be interested to know that I met a member of the press today. She was called Keeley: she's a friend of Izzy's dad. She gave me a card. She's just moved into the village.'

‘Oh, shite. It will not be music to Da's ears, to hear that a journo witnessed today's goings-on. What paper does she work for?'

‘The
Sunday Insignia
.'

‘Show me her card.'

Cat produced it, and handed it over.

‘“Keeley Considine”,' read Finn. ‘I know that name. She does in-depth interviews every week.'

‘Yay! She can interview me when I'm famous, so.' Cat helped herself to more Parmesan.

‘What do you mean, when you're famous?'

‘Like when I've sold loads more of my paintings.'

‘I admire your self-belief.'

‘No one else ever believed in me. I might as well do it myself.' Cat smiled sweetly at Finn. ‘Can we have some champagne? It seems a shame to waste it.'

After Río had had to drive Adair to A&E, Finn had taken it upon himself to salvage several cases of champagne intended for the wedding celebrations, since it looked like half of them would never be opened. He had dumped them by the fridge in Coral Mansion, and they had a forlorn look about them. Cat thought that it was kind of unfair on the champagne: it deserved to be drunk, since it had, after all, been bought for a special occasion. She wondered how those freeloaders who had opted to stay on in O'Toole's were getting on with the masses of food that had been ordered. It would be a bit weird to dig in to a wedding banquet and toast the happy couple when the bride and groom weren't even there to cut the cake.

‘Sure,' said Finn, in lacklustre tones. ‘Let's crack a bottle.'

‘Yay! I'll do it!' Cat danced across the room and extracted one from a crate. ‘I'm a dab hand at opening champagne. My dad taught me when I was ten.' Deftly, she stripped away the foil from the neck of the bottle. ‘Get the glasses, Finn.'

‘What was your dad celebrating?'

‘An exhibition opening.'

‘He's an artist, too?'

‘Yeah.' Unwilling to volunteer further info, Cat deftly changed the subject by saying, ‘Did you know that those old-fashioned champagne glasses – the saucer-shaped ones – were inspired by Marie Antoinette's breasts? That's useful trivia for a pub quiz. Do they ever do pub quizzes in O'Toole's, Finn?'

‘Yeah. Izzy and I went to one once. She was brilliant – she knows everything.'

Cat didn't want to hear about Izzy's brilliance, so she changed the subject again. ‘You know, when you open a bottle of champagne, you're meant to twist the bottle, not the cork,' she said, doing just that. ‘Most people do it the other way round, which means it happens too fast, and loads gets wasted.' The cork came away with a sigh and the gentlest of pops, and Cat proceeded to pour fizz into flutes. ‘Cheers,' she said, when she'd topped up the glasses to her satisfaction. ‘Pity it ain't chilled. Maybe we should put a couple away in the fridge.'

‘Cheers, Catkin.'

Finn touched his glass to hers, and Cat sat back down at the table, and took up her fork.

‘This is excellent grub, Finn. You're not a bad cook, you know.'

‘Ma taught me.' He drooped a bit. ‘Poor Ma.'

‘And your poor pa,' she reminded him.

‘Hopefully he's comatose now. I'd say he took a couple of sleeping pills. I saw a packet of Ambien in the bathroom.'

‘He'll have a stonking hangover tomorrow. I could make him Buck's Fizz, as a cure. Or a Black Velvet.'

‘I'm sure he'd appreciate that.'

They carried on eating in silence for a while, and then Cat's ears pricked up. ‘What's that noise?'

‘It sounds like the doorbell.'

‘How weird! I've never heard the doorbell go in this house before.'

Finn set down his glass and rose tiredly from the table. Cat sprinkled more Parmesan onto her pasta as she listened to the sound of his footsteps crossing the cavernous hall, and the front door being unlocked.

‘Hi, Ma,' she heard him say. ‘Come in.'

‘No. I won't come in. I just came to find out how you are.' It was Río's voice. ‘After . . . you know. Oh God, Finn! That's some shiner.'

‘I know. It looks worse than it is. It hardly hurts at all. Are you sure you won't come in for a drink? Da's upstairs, asleep. It's just me and Cat.'

Cat prinked a little. She liked the sound of that!
It's just me and Cat
. . .

‘No. Honestly, I'll have to get back to Adair.'

‘How's his toe?'

‘It's not broken after all, just badly bruised.'

‘So he'll be able for the honeymoon?'

‘He will. How . . . how's your da?'

‘Like I said, he's sleeping – courtesy of jetlag and several very large Jamesons.'

There was a long pause, and then Río said something in a mangled voice that sounded like, ‘Will you give him this from me?'

‘Sure. What is it?'

‘It's the ring he gave me once.'

‘Oh, fuck, Ma!' Finn sounded upset. ‘Don't you think you should give it to him yourself?'

‘No, Finn. I can't – I just can't. Please do it for me. I'm so sorry to ask, but I really don't want to see Shane again.' Her voice had gone even sobbier. ‘I mean . . . I do, but I can't.'

There was a silence, and then Cat heard Finn sigh and say, ‘OK. I'll do it.'

Oh, poor Finn! First he had to give his mum away against his better judgement, and now he was going to have to give his pa back the ring he'd bought her. What a prize cow that Río was, going around messing up people's lives all over the place! Finn deserved cheering up. He deserved a treat. Rising from the table, Cat took a good swig of champagne, then started to undo those buttons on her dress that were not already undone.

‘Thanks,' said Río. ‘Thank you so much, Finn. I know it's a tough ask.'

‘No worries. Are you heading off to Coolnamara Castle tonight?'

‘No. We're booked in for tomorrow. We're staying in the Bentley tonight.'

‘Well, have a good time when you get there.'

‘Yeah.'

‘Is there . . . is there any message you want me to give to Da?'

‘No, Finn. Thank you – you're a star. But there's nothing I can say to him.'

‘OK.'

‘I'll be off, so.'

‘Good night, Ma.'

‘Good night, darlin'. I love you very much.'

‘Love you too, Ma.'

There was another silence, and then came the sound of the front door closing.

Cat undid the last button, slid her arms out of the sleeves of her frock, and allowed the silk to shimmer to her feet just as Finn came back into the kitchen.

He stood speechless in the doorway, and then Cat stepped out of the pool of black silk and moved towards him. Standing on tiptoe, she closed her eyes, and presented her mouth for a kiss. After what seemed like an eternity, Finn obliged. Many long moments later, he still had not uttered a word.

‘What's up, Finnster?' asked Cat, slanting him a smile. ‘You seem lost for words. That's unusual for you. Cat got your tongue?'

Still Finn said nothing. He simply returned the smile, raised an eyebrow, then lowered his mouth to hers once again, and licked her lips.

Much later, Cat was sitting up in Finn's bed, drinking champagne.

‘This is the life!' she said. ‘I could easily get used to a champagne life style. And we've masses to keep us going, Finn. We could fill a bath with the stuff, like Johnny Depp and Kate Moss did once.'

‘They did?' Finn was lolling back against the pillows, watching Cat with amused eyes.

‘Yeah. Apparently they filled the bath in their hotel with, like, a grand's worth of Mumm, and the chambermaid pulled the plug when she came in to turn down the bed. Imagine! A thousand quid down the plughole!' She drained her glass, then set it on the bedside table. ‘Your dad's mates with Johnny Depp, ain't he?'

‘Yeah. And you're not to start giving him grief again about showing all his mates your paintings. You're going to have to cut him some slack, Cat. Allow him to chill for a couple of days.'

‘Sure, I can do that. We could pamper him. I'll be his maid, and bring him breakfast in bed in the morning. And maybe pour him a champagne bath. Except it would be no fun having a champagne bath all by yourself.'

‘I liked that idea you had about Buck's Fizz. Why not bring him a glass on his breakfast tray? He's going to need a hit of alcohol before I do the dirty deed. So am I, come to think of it.'

‘What dirty deed?'

‘The reason Ma called round earlier was to give me this.' Finn reached into the pocket of his jeans which lay discarded by the bed, produced a ring box, and handed it to Cat.

She opened it, and went, ‘Wow!'

Nestling against a white satin cushion was a solitaire diamond, set in gleaming platinum.

‘Da gave it to Ma a few years ago, in one of his attempts at persuading her to marry him. She's never worn it.'

‘Why not?'

‘Too scared she might lose it.'

‘How much is it worth?'

‘I dunno. All I know is that Ma can't even afford the cost of insuring it.'

‘Then it must be worth a
lot
of money. Mind if I try it on?'

‘Go ahead.'

Cat slid the diamond on to her finger, and held out her hand, the better to admire it. As she angled her hand to and fro, the stone flashed pale fire. ‘It's real pretty,' she said. ‘But I think I'd rather have the cash. D'you mind if I ask you something, Finn?'

‘Shoot.'

‘Your mum has your dad on her case, right? And your dad is pretty damn hot for an elderly geezer, plus he's famous and loaded. And he's, like, showering her with diamonds and a mansion and all. And yet your mum goes and marries a man who is follically challenged in the hair department and who ain't that hot, and who's lost loads of money and lives in a mobile home. I mean, what's all that about?'

‘I guess my ma's like most women,' said Finn.

‘And what are most women like?'

‘They're riddles wrapped up in mystery inside an enigma.'

‘Wow! Profound! Did you make that up?'

‘No, Winston Churchill did. Except he probably wasn't talking about women.'

‘Who's Winston Churchill?'

‘You mean you don't know? What kind of an education had you, Cat Gallagher?'

‘A crap one.' Unlike brilliant Izzy, thought Cat darkly, who excelled at pub quizzes and had probably been educated at the Sorbonne or somesuch.

‘Where did you go to school?' asked Finn.

‘Kylemore Abbey, in the arse-end of nowhere. But then the so-called authorities said I had to be home-schooled because I kept running away.'