by Maeve Binchy
'I suppose Danny did. He wanted a grand house with high ceilings and deep colours. Often nowadays when I think about it I don't quite know why, but that's what he seemed to want when he was young.'
They walked on, an easy companionable silence between them. They passed the gates of St Rita's.
'Future home of nice soft cakes,' Ria said, laughing.
'Nothing too difficult to chew,' Marilyn giggled. 'Not like those ginger biscuits I bought Brian and Annie first time, they were horrific.'
They turned the corner and saw that Gertie's launderette was busy.
'I dare not mention the deceased but would he have left any insurance?' Marilyn asked
'Gertie's mother paid some kind of a policy,' Ria said. 'I think it was just a burial one.'
'And will she be all right?'
'She'll be fine. She has the little flat upstairs there and of course she can have her children at home now that they won't be assaulted or have their poor nerves shot to pieces by that lunatic.'
Gertie was so used to cleaning in Number 16 Tara Road that it was hard to get her to sit down.
'Will I do a bit of ironing for you to have your clothes nice for packing, Marilyn?' she said.
'Lord, Sheila, don't you have the kindest sister. I simply hate ironing and Gertie often helped me out.'
'Yes… she was born caring about clothes, I never was,' said Sheila and the moment passed. Once or twice Gertie rose as if to clear the table but Ria's hand gently pressed her back. 'Sean is so anxious to come back and study in Ireland after Christmas and find his roots,' Sheila said. The other three women hid their smiles. 'He has been around to all the various schools and colleges and of course I'd just love him to come back here,' Sheila said.
'And Max?' Ria wondered.
'There's not much looking for roots in the Ukraine, they all came to the States from that village. Max will be okay about it.'
Gertie was excited about the proposition. 'There will be a small room in our flat, it's not very elegant but it's convenient for schools and libraries and everything.'
'Stop saying it's not elegant,' Sheila cried. 'Your property is in such a good area. It's a wonderful place for him to stay, it's a happy home. I'm only sorry his Uncle Jack won't be there to see him grow up.'
'Jack would have made him very welcome, that's one sure thing,' Gertie said, without any tinge of irony. 'But we'll paint up his room for him to have it ready when he comes back. He can tell us what colour he'd like. And maybe he'd get a bicycle. You know,' Gertie confided, 'a lot of people have asked me would I be financially able to manage without Jack?'
Ria wondered who had asked that and why. Surely they must have known that poor Gertie's finances would take an upturn now that she didn't have to find him an extra thirty or forty pounds' drinking money a week by cleaning houses. And now that she could concentrate on her business. But then perhaps other people didn't know the circumstances.
'And of course I am fine,' Gertie continued. 'My mother's looked through all the papers and there was a grand insurance policy there, and the business is going from strength to strength. There will be fine times ahead, that's what I have to think.'
Suddenly Ria remembered something. 'Talking of what lies ahead, I wonder what happened to Mrs Connor!'
'She told me she couldn't talk to the dead when I wanted to, and that one day I wouldn't want to any more,' Marilyn said. 'I'd like to tell her that day has come.'
'She told me I'd have a big business, I'd like to know how big,' Ria said, 'and travel the world. I've already done that.'
Sheila said that Mrs Connor had said the future was in her own hands, and look at the way it had all worked out. With her boy wanting to come back to Ireland to his own people!
Gertie tried to remember what Mrs Connor had told her. She had told her that there would be some sorrow but a happy life, she thought. 'Well, that was true enough,' Sheila said, patting her sister on the hand.
'Will I make myself scarce while you meet Danny?' Marilyn asked as they cleared the dishes after lunch.
'No need, there'll be plenty of time after you've gone home. Let's not waste what we have.'
'You should talk to him as soon as possible, listen to what he has to say and add what you have to say. The more you put it off the harder it is to do.'
'You're right,' sighed Ria. 'Yes, but it's a question of don't do as I do, just do as I say!'
'I'm only telling you what I didn't do myself.'
'I suppose I should ask him to come over.'
'I have to go and buy some gifts for people back home. I'll go down to that place I saw in Wicklow and leave you the morning.'
'That's an idea.'
'And you know what we'll do as a treat tomorrow afternoon?'
'I can't guess.'
'We'll go see Mrs Connor,' said Marilyn Vine, who wanted to pay her debt to the woman who had told her the truth. That the dead like to be left asleep. They want to be left in peace.
'I have to meet Ria this morning,' Danny said.
'Well, it's better that you get it over with,' Bernadette said. 'Are you very sad?'
'Not so much sad as anxious. I used to laugh at middle-aged men who had ulcers and said their stomachs were in a knot. I don't know why I laughed, that's the way I am all the time now.'
She was full of concern. 'But you can't be, Danny. None of this is your fault, and you are going to be able to give her half the proceeds of that house which is very big nowadays.'
'Yes, true.'
'And she knows all this; she doesn't have any expectations of anything else.'
'No,' said Danny Lynch. 'No, I don't suppose that she can have any expectations of anything else.'
'Brian, will you go and play with Dekko and Myles this morning? Your dad is coming here and we need to talk on our own.'
'Is it just me that you don't want to be here?' Brian wanted it clarified.
'No, Brian, it's not just you. Marilyn's going down to that craft shop, Annie's showing Sean the rest of Dublin. It's everyone.'
'You won't fight, will you?'
'We don't now, remember? So will you go to Dekko and Myles for a bit?'
'Would you think it was okay if I went to see Finola Dunne? I bought her a present when I was in America.'
'Yes, of course, that's a great idea.' She laughed at his anxiety.
'That's not just me being awful and doing the wrong thing, is it?'
'You're wonderful, Brian,' his mother said.
'But a bit different?' This was too much praise, he wanted it tempered.
'Very different, that's for sure,' said Ria.
He came at ten o'clock, and rang on the front door.
'Haven't you got your keys?' she asked.
'I turned them in to Mrs Jackboot,' he said.
'Don't call her that, Danny. What would she have done with them, do you think?'
'Search me, Ria. Cemented them to a stone maybe?'
'No, here they are, on the key-holder at the back of the hall. Shall I give them back to you?'
'What for?'
'For you to show people around, Danny. Please let's not make it more difficult than it is.'
He saw the sense in that. 'Sure,' he said and held his hands up as a sign of peace.
'Right, I have some coffee in a percolator up here in the front room, will we sit in there and if you'll forgive the expression… make a list?'
She had two lined pads ready on the round table and two pens. She brought the coffee over to them and waited expectantly.
'Look, I don't think that this is going to work,' he began.
'But it has to work. I mean, you said we'd have to be well out of here by Christmas. I made sure that the children and Marilyn were out so that we could get started.'
'She hasn't gone home yet?'
'Tomorrow.'
'Oh.'
'So who will we sell it through?'
'What?'
'The house, Danny? We can't use McCarthy and Lynch because they
don't exist any more. Which agency will we ask?'
'There will be a line of them waiting to dance on my grave,' Danny said glumly.
'No, that's not the situation. Stop being so dramatic, there will be a line of people waiting to sell it so that they can get two per cent of the price. That's all. Which one will we choose?'
'You've been out of the business for a long time. It's not two per cent any more, it's cutthroat nowadays, all of them trying to shave off a bit here and there.'
'How do you mean?'
'It will be what they call the Beauty Parade, they all come in one by one, each one hoping to be chosen. This one says he'll take one point seven per cent, this one will do it for one point two five. Then there's going to be some so desperate for the commission they'll say a flat fee.'
'That's the way it is?'
'That's the way it is. Believe me I've been in it, may even be in it again one day, who knows?'
'So who, then?'
'Ria, I'm going to suggest something to you. These guys hate me, a lot of them. I've cut right across their deals, stolen their clients. You must sell it on your own, and give me half.'
'I can't do that.'
'I've thought about it, it's the only way, and we must pretend to be fighting as if I'm giving you nothing, and your only hope is to screw as much out of this as possible.'
'No, Danny.'
'It's for us, for the children. Do it, Ria.'
'I can't possibly hold a Beauty Parade, as you call it, of auctioneers here on my own.'
'Get someone to help you.'
'Well, I suppose Rosemary could come in and sit with me, she's a businesswoman.' Ria thought about it.
'Not Rosemary.' He was firm.
'Why not, Danny? You like her, she really does have a head for figures; look at her own company.'
'No, they'd walk over two women.'
'Come on. What do you think it is? People don't walk over women in business any more.'
'Get a man to help you, Ria, it's good advice.'
'Who, what man? I don't know any man.'
'You've got friends.'
'Colm?' she suggested.
He thought about it. 'Yes, why not? He's got valuable property himself, more or less by accident but he's sitting on it. They'd respect him.'
'All right.'
'So when should I start?'
'I suppose as soon as possible. And tell these guys that you'll be in the market to buy a house too. They'll be even more helpful if they think there are going to be two bites of the cherry.'
'The furniture and everything?' He shrugged. 'Well, what will we do with it?'
'If you buy somewhere that suits it then of course you must take it,' he said.
'But suppose you find somewhere that suits it?' she asked.
'I don't think we will, it will be small, and anyway… you know?'
'I know,' Ria said. 'Bernadette would prefer to start life with you having her own furniture.'
'I don't think she'd even notice what furniture was in the room,' he said. He sounded very sad.
She touched one of the balloon-backed chairs that they had found in the old presbytery, covered then with a rough and torn horsehair. Everything here had been searched for and found with such love. And now, less than two decades later, two people were shrugging about what would happen to it.
She didn't really trust herself to speak.
'So, it's not easy but we'll do it.'
'I’ll do it apparently.' She hoped it didn't sound too bitter.
'You understand why?'
'Yes I do. And will you say I could have got more, or I shouldn't have chosen this or that one?'
'No, believe me I won't say anything like that.'
She believed him. 'Well, I'll ask Colm today. I'm anxious to get it done and start trying to work for a living.'
'You always worked hard,' he said appreciatively and annoyingly.
Ria found that this made her eyes water a little. 'And will you be able to get work?' she asked.
'Not as easily as I thought. In fact I was sort of advised to look into some other sector. Not too many estate agencies opening their doors, arms or books to me, I'm afraid. Still there's always something.'
'Like what?'
'Like PR for the building industry or property companies. Like buying furniture from dealers—there are still houses throwing out beautiful stuff and filling themselves up with pine and chrome.'
He was talking more cheerfully than he felt. Only someone who knew Danny Lynch would realise that. Ria gave no sign that she saw anything at all.
It was late in the afternoon when they went out to the halting site. Horses were tethered to fences, children played on the steps of caravans. Young boys hung around hopefully as cars drew up.
'Mrs Connor?' Ria asked.
'She went away,' said a red-haired boy with paper-white skin.
'Do you know where she went?' Marilyn asked.
'No, she just went overnight.'
'But you might have some idea where she went.' Ria made a move as if to open her handbag and look for a wallet.
'No, really, Missus, if we knew we'd tell you. There's people coming here all the time looking for her, but we can't say what we don't know.'
'And does she have any relations here?' Ria looked around the caravans that housed this particular travelling community.
'No, not to speak of.'
'But surely a lot of you are family cousins, we really do want to find her.'
'To thank her too,' Marilyn said.
'I know you do, aren't there droves of them coming at night. And even now there's two cars coming in asking after her, my brother's telling them we haven't a God clue where she is.'
'Was she sick, do you think?' Ria asked.
'She never said a word, Missus.'
'And no one else took over her… um… work or anything?' Marilyn wondered.
'No. Wouldn't they have had to have the gift?' said the boy with the nearly transparent face.
They went to a last dinner in Colm's. Sean and Annie held hands and ate an aubergine and red bean casserole. 'Sean doesn't eat dead animals now,' Annie said proudly.
'Sound man, Sean,' Colm said admiringly.
'Finola Dunne said she saw your sister in a hospital. Her friend is there,' Brian said.
Ria closed her eyes. Marilyn had told her the story. Brian was the last person in Ireland who should have learned it.
'Yes, that's right, she's been quite sick but getting a lot better now. Is Mrs Dunne's friend getting better too?' Colm was ice-calm.
Ria flashed him a glance of huge gratitude.
'I think her friend's a drug addict, to be absolutely honest. But I suppose she could get better. They do, don't they?'
'Oh they do, Brian,' Colm said. 'They do all the time.'
Barney and Mona McCarthy came up to the table. 'I just wanted to welcome you home, Ria, and to wish you bon voyage, Marilyn.' Mona spoke with confidence these days.
'Mam's going to be cooking things for money now if you still know any rich people who'd buy them,' Brian said helpfully.
'We know a few,' Mona said. 'And we'll certainly be able to put the word around.'
Barney McCarthy was anxious to end the conversation. Colm ushered them to their table. You would never think from his manner that Barney had ever been at this restaurant with another woman. Or that his bills had remained unpaid until a solicitor had asked for any outstanding invoices to be presented.
The solicitor had been engaged by Mrs and not Mr McCarthy.
'Do you want us to call so that you can say goodbye to Rosemary tonight?' Ria asked Marilyn.
Annie looked up.
'I think I'll just leave her a note,' Marilyn said.
'Sure, why not?' Ria was easy.
At that moment Colm asked Ria would she come into the kitchen. He wanted her to see the desserts that he had prepared for tonight so that they could discuss what she might dream up.
'Can I come
into the kitchen?' Brian's eyes were excited.
'Only if you don't talk, Brian,' his mother said.
'Sean, would you ever go with them and clap your hand over his mouth if he says anything at all?' Annie begged.
Sean Maine was pleased to be seen as a hero and went willingly.
Annie and Marilyn looked at each other across the table. 'You don't like Rosemary,' Annie said.
'No I don't.'
'Why don't you like her?' Annie asked.
'I'm not sure. But it's not something I need to say to your mother, they're friends over many years. And you, Annie? Obviously you don't like her either. Why is that?'
'I couldn't explain.'
'I know. These things happen.'
The taxi was coming at ten thirty but Ria said Marilyn would not think she was getting away with leaving quietly. Colm was there with a gardening book for her, a very old one they had talked about; he had tracked it down in an antiquarian bookseller's. Nora had come to say goodbye too. Hilary came to show a photograph of Martin's old homestead. A bleak-looking place with great tall trees. 'There's a lovely sound in the evening when the rooks all come home,' Hilary said.
'We went to see Mrs Connor. I was going to tell her about you and the trees but it turns out that she's gone away,' Ria told her sister.
'Well, her work is done,' said Hilary as if it was obvious.
Gertie came to say goodbye. 'You were a great pal while you were here, and honestly, Marilyn, I wouldn't expect you to understand our ways, being a foreigner and everything, but you understood as well as anyone that Jack loved me and did the best for me. His problem was that he thought nobody really appreciated him.'
'But they did,' Marilyn said. 'You only had to look at the crowds at his funeral to know that.' Then it was time to go. 'I could get a taxi, Ria,' she began to protest.
'I'm driving you to the airport. Don't argue.' The telephone rang. 'Who now?' Ria groaned.
But it wasn't for her. It was Greg Vine from California. He was changing planes and about to check in for New York. He would wait for Marilyn in Kennedy Airport. They would go back to Tudor Drive together.
'Yes, you too.' Marilyn ended the conversation.
'Did he say I love you?' Ria asked.
'Yes, as it happens,' Marilyn said.
'Lucky Marilyn.'
'You have the children,' Marilyn said.