Chapter 24
24
As Jess sprawled sloth-like on the settee later that evening, she had two phone calls. The first was from Marian, who was telephoning on the pretext of giving her daughter a general update as to how everyone was at home. Once they’d established that everybody was fine and that Kelly and the Martian were going at it like rabbits (to which Jess had made gagging noises) in their efforts to conceive, she’d moved swiftly on to the business at hand. The real reason behind her phone call was to interrogate her eldest daughter as to how her date had gone.
‘Did he pick you up in that sports car of his?’
‘Yes, Mum.’
‘Did he hold the car door open for you like a proper gentleman?’
‘Yes, Mum.’
‘Frank, he has good manners! He didn’t drive like a maniac, I hope? Honestly, some of the teenagers your dad and I see hooning around the neighbourhood now in their zoop-zoop cars are just accidents waiting to happen. Most of them can’t even see over the steering wheel. It’s ridiculous letting kids have cars like that, isn’t it, Frank?’
‘No, he stuck to the speed limit. It’s pretty impossible not to; the traffic is nightmarish in central Dublin, and besides, he isn’t a teenager.’
She moved swiftly on. ‘What did you wear in the end?’
‘You’ll be pleased to know I didn’t wear my Anne Klein. I borrowed a lovely little black dress from Nora. She gave it her stamp of approval, and she is dating a movie star, Mum, so she knows her stuff.’
‘Thank God! She didn’t wear the wool outfit, Frank! What about knickers? Did you take my advice with regard to your knickers?’
Jess heard her father’s voice in the background. ‘ Marian!’
‘Sorry, Frank, but this girl of ours needs all the help she can get. Well, did you?’
‘Mum!’
‘All right, all right, keep your knickers on.’
Marian failed to realise her pun as she carried blithely on. ‘So what was the place he took you to like? It was a cocktail bar, wasn’t it?’
‘Yes. It was very posh minimalist with lots of polished chrome and expensive leather couches. A place to be seen and not at all my normal sort of hangout, but the cocktails were free all night, which is definitely my kind of thing.’ Jess chortled silently, knowing this would irk her mother.
‘Well, maybe it’s high time it became your sort of hangout, my girl, and that you started to mix with a better quality of people.’
Unbelievable , Jess thought, holding the phone away from her ear and poking her tongue out at the receiver, but Marian was only just warming up.
‘I hope you behaved yourself, Jessica Jane. You’re too old to be making a holy show of yourself these days. I remember the time you staggered home after you’d been to a party at the girl Frankton’s house.’
‘Sarah was her name, Mum, not “the girl Frankton”.’ Jess cringed; this was a story Marian had regurgitated more than once.
‘She was a bad influence on you, that one, wasn’t she, Frank? It was disgraceful behaviour on your part, my girl.’
‘Oh, for goodness’ sake, Mum, that was years ago – I was seventeen! You have the memory of a flipping elephant. And for your information, as far as a first date goes, I was very well behaved, and Nick didn’t mind the striptease I did on top of the bar later in the night at all.’
‘That’s not funny. Sarcasm is the lowest form of humour.’
‘Well, what do you expect, talking to me like that? I’m thirty-four years old, not four.’
‘Once you become a mother, you’re always a mother. I live in hope that one day you’ll understand that your baby is always your baby, no matter how big or how much of a smarty pants she might get.’
‘Yeah, I know you do, Mum.’ Jess was in danger of dislocating her eyeballs with the roll that followed that reply.
‘So did you get on well together? At least tell me that.’
‘We did, actually. He’s very…’ Jess paused, chewing on her bottom lip. How would she describe Nick? An image of Galaxy-bar-smooth milk chocolate sprang to mind. ‘He’s very charming, and he’s really good-looking.’
‘Did you have sex?’
‘That is none of your business!’
‘Marian, would you leave the poor girl alone!’
Good old Dad , Jess silently cheered, even though she knew it was a futile effort on his behalf. Marian would ignore him because she wasn’t finished yet. Oh no, not by a country mile.
‘Good. I was hoping you took my advice and that I can take that as a no because believe you me, it’s really not a good idea on the first or even second date to give a man what he wants.’
Jess cringed, knowing she was about to go off on a tangent; it was as inevitable as the ebb and flow of the tides.
‘Now, I know you young people get up to all sorts these days, but no matter how modern a man may be in his thinking, deep down, they’re all Neanderthals. If you can remember that, then you won’t go too far wrong. Men are hunter-gatherers of old who don’t like to think that their mate may have been collecting her nuts and berries too easily, if you get my drift?’
Good God. Jess shook her head. The worst thing was that this was actually her mother’s convoluted way of saying keep your legs shut .
She grinned as she heard her Dad snort and say, ‘Marian, I’m just off to club a woolly mammoth to death for dinner, and then I think I’ll drag you by your hair into the kitchen to cook it.’
‘Ignore your father – he’s another smarty-pants. Where do you think you get it from? Deep down, men are old-fashioned when it comes to that sort of thing, so you’d do well to wait until at least your fourth or even fifth date before offering up the goods. Of course, you want to keep him interested, though, which is why I was so concerned over your choice of underwear. Think entrée, not the main and certainly not all three courses!’
Good grief. Home runs, entrees and mains – her mother’s metaphors when it came to sex were appalling. It was a wonder she and Kelly had ever been conceived because Jess couldn’t fathom how her mother had managed to communicate to her father that she was in the mood. I have an itch that needs scratching perhaps, or There’s some urgent plumbing to be done ? Either way, it was a good thing she didn’t know the half of it, because there were some things in life that were just none of her damn business.
Not expecting a reply, Marian Baré ploughed on with her inquisition. ‘Did you make arrangements to see each other again?’
‘Actually, we did. He’s cooking me dinner next Wednesday night.’
There was a loud clunk followed by a scrabbling noise and then silence. Finally, and to Jess’s immense relief, her father’s voice came on the line.
‘It’s Dad here, sweetheart. Your mum’s come over all strange and had to go and lie down for a minute – what on earth did you say to her?’
Jess told him.
‘Oh, well, that explains it. You’d better look out because the next thing we know, she’ll be booking the church and arranging the flowers. You know what she’s like.’
His tone grew sombre. ‘Listen, Jess, while I have you on the phone and your mother’s a safe distance away, I wanted to tell you not to let her bully you where this Nick chap is concerned. She means well, and she wants you to be happy, but from what she’s relayed to me, he doesn’t sound your type at all. I know you’ve picked a few wrong’uns in the past, love, but this fella – a property developer with a sports car? Well, to be honest, Jess, he sounds rather oily.’
Nick wasn’t oily. OK, yes, he was definitely smooth but not oily. ‘Dad, when have I ever let Mum pressure me? I like Nick; actually, I like him a lot, but I haven’t managed to stay single well into my thirties by rushing into things, so don’t worry, OK?’
‘You’re right, and despite what Marian might think, you are old enough to make your own choices. Just make sure you make the right one. Now, tell me, what have you been working on lately? Are you still busy cooking up a storm?’
Jess smiled. She could always count on her dad to show interest in her work, and she settled into her sofa, pulling the throw rug up under her chin as she began to fill him in on the Aherne family’s sad story.
When she’d finished, Frank was quiet for a moment. ‘You’re right, sweet; it is a story that needs to be told. Tell it well.’
‘Can I read you the draft I’ve written?’ Her father, her biggest fan, was always keen to hear her work – raw state or polished – and though Jess preferred the impersonal nature of email by which to receive any criticisms, she knew she could count on her dad to relay only the positives.
She got the article up on her laptop’s screen, leaned forward and began to read. When she’d finished, Frank was silent for a moment, digesting what he’d just heard before exhaling loudly.
‘Powerful stuff, Jess. What a thing for a family to have to have suffered through. It’s incomprehensible, you know, but the same thing will be happening to another family somewhere in the world right now as we speak. Look at what’s been going on in Syria.’ He sighed. ‘It does make you stop and take stock when you hear a story like that, even if it’s only for a short while. It puts all the trivial day-to-day stuff into perspective. We’re one of the lucky ones, Jess – very lucky – and I know you and your mum don’t always see eye to eye, but she loves you. You know that, don’t you?’
‘Yeah, I know she does, and I love her, too. She just drives me mad, that’s all.’
Frank laughed before asking, ‘This Owen fella sounds like a good man. Will you be seeing him again?’
Jess wasn’t fooled by his attempt at nonchalance. It was a funny thing – had her mother asked her that question, it would have got her back up straight away. With her dad, though, she could be honest. ‘Yes, he is a good man, and he’s been through a lot, but he blows hot and cold all the time.’ Jess chewed her bottom lip agitatedly, remembering how whenever Owen had become conscious of feeling relaxed around her, his guard had gone back up. ‘Maybe it’s some sort of defence mechanism. I’d definitely like to see Wilbur again, though. He was so cute and uncomplicated.’
‘I never thought I’d see the day when my daughter was smitten with a piglet, and as for this Owen being a tad moody, well, perhaps he has good reason to be. From what you’ve just told me, life hasn’t exactly dealt him a fair hand now, has it?’
‘No, it definitely hasn’t.’
‘I have a feeling your story isn’t done yet either. You’ll be seeing him and your wee runt Wilbur again soon.’
Jess chose to misinterpret his words. ‘Yeah, you’re probably right. If Owen’s true to form, then he’ll be difficult and probably want loads of editing done before I submit my final copy to Niall. Still, it would be good to have an excuse to see Wilbur again. I’d like to see him grow up into a big pig.’
Her father laughed. ‘I thought women who didn’t have children got cats or those white yappy dogs as substitutes, not pigs.’
‘Bichon Frises, Dad, and Wilbur isn’t my baby substitute.’
Frank grew serious once more. ‘I know I don’t say this to you very often, Jess. Nowhere near often enough, but you do know that you’re making us proud, don’t you? What you’ve achieved with your writing, your own column – well, I want you to know that we’re proud of you. That’s not just coming from me either; Mum feels the same way.’
Jess felt the hot sting of tears and blinked them away as quickly as they’d come. She wished she could believe what he said where her mother was concerned, but she didn’t have time to dwell on it because speak of the devil, Marian – fully recovered – came back on the line.
Ten minutes later, Jess hung up the phone with relief. She felt drained by the grilling she’d just had over what she was planning to wear on her dinner date, where Nick lived and the kind of property he developed. At least this time round, though, she’d been able to reply satisfactorily. She’d only just finished flexing her fingers to do a spot of channel surfing when the phone shrilled again.
Oh no! Please, please don’t let it be Mum again . She sighed, and if she’d been Catholic, she would have crossed herself, but since she wasn’t, she just wished she’d splashed out the extra couple of euros for caller display. With a sigh, she leaned over and picked it up.
It was Owen.