Cruising with the O’Maras (The Irish Guesthouse on the Green #17)

Chapter 14

‘ W ould you look at the state of those two?’ Maureen shook her head. She’d discarded her hat and pushed her sunglasses on top of her head, having decided the risk of being recognised was low here in the shady nook of The Retreat. ‘They’re obviously making the most of their all-inclusive cruise package.’

Carole followed her gaze to where two bikini-clad women of middling years with drinks sloshing in their hands were dancing to the calypso beat emanating from the bar area, in heels no less. ‘I wish my hips would let me break out moves like that, but I can’t remember the last time I wore heels. My guess is they’re newly divorced and celebrating their freedom with a cruise.’

The people-watching on a cruise should be added to the brochure at the travel agents as part of the onboard entertainment, Maureen thought, scanning the deck of The Retreat. The passengers were a colourful lot and Carole proved to be a tonic, enthusiastically joining the sport. She’d fetched them both a lemonade, and they’d adjusted the rungs of their loungers so they were sitting rather than lying. Then they'd begun their game of giving those that caught their eye a fictional history. It was the perfect distraction from the shenanigans of earlier.

Maureen moved on to a silvery-haired couple sitting near the bar, holding hands under the table. The woman had a sophisticated martini before her, and he was sipping something amber-coloured on ice. ‘Long since retired lawyers or doctors, and tis something special they want to commemorate with this cruise. Their diamond wedding anniversary, perhaps?’

‘Hmm.’ Carole sized them up from behind her sunglasses. ‘Aren’t they sweet? I’d say childhood sweethearts who’ve lasted the distance, and I’ll run with your diamond anniversary celebration theory.’

‘I hope Donal and I will be holding hands under the table in years to come.’

‘Oh, I’ve seen how you two are around each other. I think you will. You’re a perfect match.’

‘So long as we stay away from the competitive sports.’ Maureen looked at Carole, whose eyes had crinkled, and the next thing they were crossing their legs on their loungers, crying with laughter.

Maureen was hiccupping by the time they’d finished, and when she’d knocked back her glass of fizzy to see them off, she said, ‘Of course, it’s the second time round for us.’ Carole, whom she’d initially thought hard work was proving to be easy company, and Maureen told the story of how she and Donal had met at just the right time in both their lives, confiding they’d given one another a new lease on life. She felt comfortable enough with the Australian woman now to dig a little deeper into her romantic background, telling herself it was purely for Niall's benefit. ‘And yourself, Carole, is there, or was there, someone special in your life?’

‘Once. I was married and thought Rob was the love of my life, but he announced he was no longer in love with me when I turned forty. You’re going back fifteen years now and, with hindsight, I can see he did me a favour.’

‘Still and all, what an eejit.’

‘Eejit?’

‘A fool, idiot – take your pick. My daughters would call him an “arse”.’

‘I'll take all three! Rob had a rather clichéd mid-life crisis. He went out and found the younger girlfriend, bought the flashy car and began dressing like he was twenty again. A balding twenty-something, might I add.’ Her eyes twinkled, and Maureen sniggered at the picture she’d painted. ‘It was all a bit tawdry and sad, to be honest, and at the time I certainly wasn’t laughing about it, and neither was our daughter. Emma didn’t take it well, understandably. She’d idolised her dad as girls often do.’

‘They do; my girls thought the world of Brian, and rightly so. They found it hard when Donal came along, but he won them over.’

‘I don’t know him, obviously Maureen, but from what I’ve seen, he seems a lovely man.’

‘Apart from when he gets a table tennis bat in his hand.’ Maureen couldn’t tell whether Carole had registered her remark. If she had this time she didn’t crack a smile. A sadness had settled over her, which was evident in the slump of her shoulders. Maureen didn’t know if it was down to talking about her ex-husband or mentioning her daughter, so she waited for her to speak.

‘I have to say one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do was keep my thoughts to myself regarding Emma’s father. All I wanted to do was rant on about, about—’

‘About what an eejit he was?’

‘Exactly, but I knew that would make things worse for her. I never once bad-mouthed Rob to her. Well, not out loud anyway.’ She side-eyed Maureen, who smiled.

‘Well, then, you deserve a medal. Did this Rob ever see the error of his ways, or is he still trying to relive his youth?’

‘He realised he’d made a mistake six months down the line, and I took him back mostly for Emma’s sake but it wasn’t the same. I was living a lie, and I woke up one day realising I no longer loved him. Respect and trust are vital ingredients in a marriage, and I’d lost both where he was concerned. I didn’t have the energy or desire to let him try to regain either, not even for Emma’s happiness, and we divorced.’ Her sigh was almost a low whistle. ‘I don’t think she ever forgave me for that.’

Maureen wanted to say that that was hardly fair on her daughter’s part, but then she knew motherhood could be a lopsided affair. Instead, she asked, ‘And have you tested the romantic waters since?’

Carole shrugged. ‘I put all my energies into Emma and then, when she left home, I went on a few dates mostly because my friends pestered me to, but nobody clicked. I don’t know. It’s probably down to me. Trust issues.'

‘So, no Captain and Tenille fans in the dating pool until now?’

‘You wouldn’t be trying to matchmake Niall and I, would you, Maureen?’ Carole raised her glasses, scrutinising Maureen. The twitch of her lips suggested she knew this was exactly what Maureen was up to.

‘ Moi ?’ Maureen feigned innocence, and Carole laughed. ‘But if I was, I’d tell you that Niall is one of the most trustworthy fellas you’ll ever meet. He'd hand it into the garda if he found a tenner in the street.'

‘Garda?’

‘Police.’

‘Ah, I see.’ Carole paused, plucking at the stripy towel and gazing at the pool before saying, ‘I do like him, as it happens, and I think he likes me. Sometimes you click with someone from the get-go.’

‘The Captain and Tenille.’

‘The Captain and Tenille.’ Carole grinned then turned to Maureen, her expression becoming serious. ‘I’ve only just met him, Maureen, and this conversation is strictly between us.’

Maureen mimed sealing her lips. Then unsealed them to ask, ‘Do you find him attractive though? It’s important you know the physical attraction. I was always a Daniel Day-Lewis type of woman myself. You know, the chiselled jaw, Irish eyes and dark hair.’ And loincloth , she thought, mostly the loincloth , but decided to keep that to herself. ‘But when I met Donal, I realised it had been Kenny all along.’

‘Well, Niall looks like an older, craggier, thinner Richard Gere. And I swoon every time I watch An Officer and a Gentleman .’

Maureen couldn’t see it personally. She’d have said he was more Michael Wotsit from Monty Python but there you go, she wasn’t about to rain on Carole’s parade. So be it if she saw Richard Gere when she looked at Niall. Beauty was in the eye of the beholder and all that.

‘Well, we’re all on this ship together for three months, so that’s plenty of time to see where it might take you and Niall.’ Maureen shook her head, her dark hair bobbing about her shoulders as she lamented, ‘An open mind is all that’s needed in life, I always think, Carole. It would never have entered my head a few years ago that I’d be madly in love with a Kenny Rogers lookalike, singing the Sheena and Dolly parts with him and a tribute band on a Mexican Riviera cruise. Let alone getting paid to do so. Life is an adventure if you let it be.’

‘That’s true, but it’s not always a good adventure,’ Carole said softly.

‘No. But we must journey through the bad bits to get to the good stuff.’

Carole nodded agreement, and they lapsed into a companionable silence until Maureen spied a woman around her age sitting companionably alongside a visibly pregnant younger woman. ‘Now, look it over there. Those two are far too alike not to be mother and daughter. My guess is they’ve booked themselves on the cruise to enjoy some quality time together before the baby arrives. I’d say it’s her first because look at what she’s reading.’ Maureen squinted, unable to read the title, but there was the unmistakable image of a baby on the cover. Then she swivelled to Carole, eager to hear her take on the scenario a few loungers away. She was alarmed to see her lips trembling and her chin wobbling and suspected tears would be glistening behind her sunglasses. ‘Carole, are you all right?’ It was a silly question, given she clearly wasn’t.

‘Not really, Maureen.’ Carole sniffed.

‘Don’t move.’

Maureen hauled herself off the lounger and slipped her flip-flops on before heading to the bar where she grabbed a handful of paper serviettes, passing them to Carole on her return. Then she sat down, perching on the side of her lounger to face the other woman.

Carole accepted the serviette with a watery smile, lifted her sunglasses, and dabbed her eyes before giving her nose a good blow. She shot Maureen a grateful glance as she balled up the serviette and dropped it inside her empty glass. ‘I wish Emma and I were like that.’

‘Relationships between mams and daughters come in all shapes and sizes,’ Maureen said gently. But Carole didn’t seem to hear.

‘We used to be close. When she was little, Emma was glued to my side. I had to coax her to join in things. It seems such a long time ago now. We haven’t spoken in a year.’ Carole’s eyes welled up once more.

Maureen laid a hand on her forearm. ‘I’m sorry to hear that.’

‘It’s mostly my fault.’

‘Don’t be so quick to blame yourself, Carole. As the mammy of three girls, I know daughters can be very quick to point their fingers at the mammy when things go wrong. Sure, Aisling’s forever telling me she’s always hungry because I used to hide the best biscuits so she wouldn’t get her mitts on them.’ Nothing sprang immediately to mind where Moira and Roisin were concerned. Still, she knew something would come to her, probably at 3am, the way the name of the actor in a particular movie you couldn’t remember all evening would.

‘The thing is, Maureen. Emma’s right: it is my fault.’

The people and noise around them faded as Carole told Maureen her story.