Chapter 44
44
On Tuesday evening at seven, the tin can that was part of the fleet belonging to the budget Cheap-Cheap Airline her mother had been forced to fly – thanks to what Marian termed her husband’s tight-fisted tyranny – touched down. Its wheels, as they skidded down the damp Dublin tarmac, sent a spray of water up in the air, and the airline’s canary-yellow logo was just visible in the gloom of the evening. Marian Baré was officially in the country.
As Jess hopped from foot to foot in the arrivals hall waiting for her to clear Irish customs, she let her mind drift back over the last couple of days.
Owen had stayed that night, and they’d only dragged themselves out of bed to order pizza. When it arrived, they took the box straight back to bed with them. Propped up on pillows, feeding each other slices, they marvelled over the fact, like new lovers do, that pepperoni supreme was both their favourite. What other things would they find out they had in common over the course of time? The sense of a new beginning was tangible, and it had been heavenly.
They made love again, but it was slower this time. The urgency of before was in the past, and they took the time to explore each other’s bodies.
Afterwards, as they talked into the small hours, Jess took a deep breath and came clean about her mother’s impending visit. ‘I love her, but honestly, if she’d had her way, I would’ve had an arranged marriage years ago to a lawyer or a doctor or even an accountant so long as he was a chartered one.’
Owen listened to her with an amused expression as his fingertips played an imaginary tune on her shoulder.
‘I’m sorry, Owen. I shouldn’t moan to you of all people about her, but I’m dreading Tuesday, I really am.’
Owen would have none of it, though. ‘Ah, she can’t be as bad as all that? Not if she made you.’ He smoothed her hair away before kissing her on her forehead. ‘When will I meet her?’
‘You don’t want to meet her; she’s a right old snob.’ Jess shook her head. The prospect of her mother and Owen in the same room together filled her with alarm. The feelings she had for him were far too new and precious to let her mother stomp all over them with a few thoughtless remarks.
‘Aye, I do; she’s your mammy, and I want to prove my intentions toward her eldest daughter are honourable. I can turn the charm on when I need to, you know.’
Jess raised an eyebrow. ‘You – charming? Not the word I’d use.’
‘I said when I need to.’ His face was illuminated by the hall light shining into the room as he grinned down at her. ‘You’re not planning on hiding her away from me, are you?’
The thought had crossed her mind, yes, but she could see the question behind his eyes.
‘It’s nothing to do with you. It’s Mum – the way she is – but you’re not going to take my word for it, are you?’ How could she explain to him that the whole reason her mother was hot-footing it over to Dublin was to try to steer her away from him and in the direction of the dodgy developer with distemper? OK, so she hadn’t told her what had happened with Nick yet, but even if she did, it would make no difference. She was coming to Dublin, and there was no way she’d ever warm to the idea of her daughter hooking up with a pig farmer with, as she saw it, a ‘past’.
‘No, I’m not, so how about you bring her up to the farm on Saturday? She can meet Wilbur. If I don’t win her over then, he will, if she’s anything like her daughter.’
The idea filled Jess with horror, and as Owen carried on, the horror deepened.
‘You could stay the night or just come for the day? It’s up to you.’ He winked at her then. ‘Of course, if you stay the night, then I’ll get to have my wicked way with you again.’
Jess looked at Owen, aghast. She didn’t know which idea was worse: her mother staying on a pig farm or actually having sex while her mother was in the same house. Either scenario was a complete nightmare, but she couldn’t see a way out of it without hurting Owen’s feelings, and that was something she wasn’t prepared to do for anyone and especially not for her mother. Besides, the thought of not seeing him for a whole fortnight while she played hostess with the mostest was unthinkable. Nope, there was nothing for it – she’d just have to buy her mother a set of wellies and tell her to soldier on.
The plan began to form. She’d ask Brianna nicely if she could borrow her car again – that way they could just go up for the day. Mum might be able to behave herself for six hours but throw in a night as well? Jess shuddered; she knew that would just be asking for trouble. Who knew, though? If the opportunity presented itself, she might get to whisk Owen away for some alone time in the barn. Wilbur’s sweet little face flitted to mind – he’d just have to shut his eyes and cover his ears.
They drifted off to sleep not long after that conversation, and the next morning Jess spooned into his warm, solid body, revelling in the fact that he was there and not part of a dream from which she’d wake. The discarded pizza box on the floor further cemented the reality of the previous evening, as did the odour it was emitting.
Owen was still out for the count, so she took advantage by sitting up and watching him while he slept. God, he was beautiful; her eyes drifted over his broad strong features, his wide mouth. She giggled as he let out a little snore, waking himself up, and he opened his eyes. As his gaze focused, he smiled lazily before grabbing her.
‘What’s so funny?’
‘You – you were snoring.’
‘I don’t snore.’
‘Oh yes you do.’
He silenced the argument with a kiss, and then their day started off with a bang – literally. After showering and a quick breakfast, Owen announced reluctantly that he had to get back to Glenariff for the animals. Jess didn’t want him to go, but she didn’t want him leaving Wilbur unattended either. It was probably a good thing, she mused, watching him tie his boots. She really did have to get this week’s column written because she was going to be busy with her mother from Tuesday night onward.
Wrapping her in a big hug and kissing the top of her head, Owen promised to ring her that evening. Neither of them knew what the next step for them would be. It was something they were going to have to wing as Ballymcguinness wasn’t just around the corner. Nor was there any chance of Owen upping sticks and moving to Dublin, but she was getting ahead of herself as usual, Jess told herself. She had to get through this Saturday with her mother first.
Her apartment felt bereft without Owen’s big presence filling it, and she drifted around aimlessly, trying to settle down to do some work, but ultimately when Brianna phoned, she was grateful for the distraction.
She was abuzz with the news that Bray Council, over the course of the weekend, had come round to her way of thinking. They’d pulled out of the deal Nick had been trying to negotiate. His company wasn’t going to be allowed to proceed with any development on the site. The sale was null and void, and Brianna was over the moon.
‘It’s karma for how he treated you the other night,’ she stated gleefully. ‘See, Jess, I might not know shite about shite, but I do know right from wrong!’
‘Have you been watching Erin Brockovich again?’ It was Brianna’s all-time favourite film.
‘Yeah, that movie always makes me feel so empowered, and that’s exactly how I feel at the moment – like I took on the big boys and won.’
‘That’s exactly what you did do, and I for one am very proud of you for holding firm to what you believe. Well done, Brie.’
‘Thanks.’ Her jubilance disappeared. ‘Hey, Jess, there’s no hard feelings, I hope, where Nick is concerned, is there? You did mean what you said yesterday, didn’t you?’
‘I meant every word, and I’m glad he’s not getting his own way. You were right about communities needing a place where people can go to get together. That’s not something Nick can relate to; his world is ruled by the almighty dollar, not people.’
‘Euro, actually.’
‘Euro, pound, punt – whatever! Anyway, enough about him. Owen stayed last night.’
Brianna shrieked down the phone. ‘Oh my God, you didn’t waste any time. I thought it was coffee he was coming over for, not sex? Details, please!’
Nora rang on her lunch break, and between stuffing down a sandwich, she, too, demanded the details. ‘I have to live vicariously through your sex life until Ewan gets back on Monday, so come on, spill!’
She listened to her friend gush. It seemed in her guilt for pushing Jess toward Nick, she’d resolved to be open-minded where Owen was concerned, trust Jess’s judgement and give him the benefit of the doubt. ‘You know, from what you’ve just told me, I think this is one man who you might just have helped heal.’
‘He said he feels like he can put the past where it belongs now – in the past. I just hope Mum’s prepared to be as magnanimous as you because he’s invited us to the farm on Saturday.’
‘Wow! He does mean business. Your mam will be impressed by that; I mean, he’s obviously serious.’
‘Yeah, seriously mad inviting her up. He has no idea what he’s in for.’
‘Give your mam a bit of credit. I’m sure once she meets him, she’ll see exactly what you see in him.’
‘You reckon? I think all she’ll see is a pig farmer with a thick accent.’
Nora tried to cover her laugh and it came out as a snort. ‘Sorry, it’s just that it’s not the most salubrious of job titles.’ Her tone grew sage. ‘Like I just said, Jess, I reckon it’s time you cut your mammy a bit of slack.’
‘You’re forgetting I know her – you don’t.’
‘Fair play to you, I suppose.’
They changed the subject then, with Nora informing her that Ewan had been really pissed about Nick’s behaviour and wouldn’t be hanging out with him again anytime soon. ‘He reckoned Nick just liked being seen out with him because it was good for his public profile – a spot of free publicity, so to speak. In Ewan’s line of business, you learn fast who your real friends are.’
‘Yes, I suppose you do.’
Owen kept his word, ringing just after nine that evening, and her mother was quickly banished from her brain as Jess lost herself in his sing-song accent.
Jess blinked, coming back to the present as the doors in front of her finally slid open to disperse the first load of weary travellers. They trickled forth in a steady flow, and she scanned their crumpled faces one after the other in anticipation of the familiar one she was expecting. As they came and went with no sign of her mother, she experienced a twinge of anxiety. Where was she? If she hadn’t seen the Cheap-Cheap plane land with her own two eyes, she might have fretted that its engines had given up the ghost somewhere over the Atlantic. But it had landed, which could only mean her mother had been delayed by customs.
Oh no! Surely Mum wouldn’t have attempted to smuggle in her home-made yo-yos, knowing they were her favourites? She wouldn’t put it past her to try. Jess chewed on her thumbnail, unsure of what to do next.
As she began envisaging the wrestling match between her mother and a surly customs officer over a tin of biscuits, the doors opened once more and released a frazzled and none-too-happy-looking passenger – Marian Baré.
‘Mum!’ Jess stepped forward to greet her, taking in her dishevelled appearance with shock. Her normally coiffed auburn curls were limp and hung in straggles around her face. Her make-up was non-existent, aside from black smudges under her eyes which gave her face a zombie-like quality, and her clothes, which would have been immaculate when she left Auckland two days ago, were now stained and crushed. Something was missing, too, she thought as Marian sagged into her arms.
Taking a step back from the embrace and holding her at arm’s length to steady her, Jess realised what was wrong. She had no bags with her.