Chapter 46
46
True to her word, the first thing Marian had done upon stepping inside Jess’s apartment was phone Frank. Once she’d made her call, she’d found herself being herded off to the shower, and now, freshly scrubbed and smelling sweet, she lay prone on the couch, waiting for Jess to finish making her a cuppa.
‘I appreciate the loan, darling, but these pyjama bottoms are too tight.’
‘You’ll be fine, Mum; just don’t bend over.’ Jess handed her a steaming mug. ‘It’s hot, so be careful. Do you feel better after giving Dad what-for and having had a hot shower?’
‘Hmm, yes, thanks. Both were very cathartic.’ She blew on her tea and then took a tentative sip before resting her head back on the settee. ‘I must say, you have this place looking lovely. It’s a proper home. Well done, sweetheart.’
Jess stood a little taller; she was pleased. She hadn’t been sure what her mother would make of apartment living, but then she went and spoiled it.
‘Yes, I can definitely see the benefits of living in a complex like this when you’re single. Much more secure, but of course it would be no good for a family.’
Right, Jess thought. It was time to burst her mother’s bubble. ‘Actually, Mum, there’s something I need to tell you.’
‘Oh my God, you’re not pregnant, are you?’
‘Oh, for goodness’ sake!’
‘Sorry, dear, it’s just a conclusion most mothers jump to when their daughters utter those words.’
‘Well, I’m not pregnant. What it is… is that, well, what’s happened is…’
‘Spit it out, Jessica.’
‘I won’t be seeing Nick anymore.’ The relief coursed through her. There, she’d told her; it was out in the open now.
‘Oh.’ Marian sipped at her tea, not glancing up to meet Jess’s eye.
‘Is that all you’re going to say?’ Surely it couldn’t be that easy, Jess thought, dumbfounded.
‘No, darling, it most definitely isn’t all I’m going to say, but I just need a moment.’
Later that night, as she lay in bed with her mother sleeping the deep sleep of the jet-lagged next door, Jess processed her reaction to the news that Nick was no more. To be fair, once she’d finished crying into her cuppa, she’d calmed down sufficiently to listen to Jess’s explanation as to what had gone wrong in the short space of time since their last phone call.
Marian had switched pretty smartly from sorrow at the loss of a potentially suitable son-in-law to anger as Jess relayed the way in which he’d treated her. She, too, had been keen to execute a Lorena Bobbitt–styled hit, but Jess had assured her there was no need. He was history. ‘I’ve moved on, Mum.’ That was when she’d told her about Owen, injecting a tally-ho kind of joviality into her tone. ‘You’ll get to meet him on Saturday. We’re going up to the farm for the day.’
‘Jessica, Jessica, Jessica.’ Marian had shaken her head sadly. ‘What happened to this Owen’s sister was tragic, but it’s his tragedy, sweetheart; don’t go making it yours, too. I can see how you could’ve got swept up by it all, but we’ve been down this road so many times, my girl. When will you ever learn? You can’t fix people; they have to want to heal themselves.’
Her remarks had sent up a flare of irritation. ‘You’ve only been here an hour, Mum – please don’t start going on about the whole wounded-bird thing. I had an idea to write a story around a name in a second-hand book and that story happened to be a sad one, but it’s his sister’s story, not Owen’s. I don’t need to fix him because he isn’t broken, so please don’t prejudge him on something that happened in his life that he had no control over. That wouldn’t be fair.’
She’d watched the struggle play out on her mother’s face. There was so much she obviously wanted to say but was fighting against getting into an argument so early in the trip. She was too weary for that, and so miming that her lips were sealed, she’d declared, ‘All right, I won’t say a word more about him.’
Yeah, right. Jess had fixed her with a steely glare. ‘And you will keep an open mind on Saturday, and you will be nice? Promise me.’
‘All right, all right. Yes, I promise I’ll behave.’
There wasn’t much more to say after that, and feeling her hackles slowly settle down, Jess had gone off to rustle them both up a light supper of scrambled egg and toast.
She’d waited until Marian had gone to bed to ring Owen, filling him in about the lost luggage and her mother’s journey from hell. He’d sympathised and told her about his day, informing her Wilbur was steadily gaining weight before they’d said a drawn-out goodnight to each other. She hadn’t even hung the phone up and she’d already been missing him.
Rolling over in bed, eyes wide open and staring into the darkness, she conjured up the feeling of him lying next to her. Oh yes, where Owen was concerned, she had it bad.
The next morning after breakfast, Jess managed to dig out an old pair of curling tongs that would suffice until Marian could get hold of her heated rollers then handed over her make-up bag.
After much discussion about what she would wear for the day, she stated, ‘I’m not wearing any of your oddball thrift-shop ensembles,’ giving her daughter’s authentic boho skirt and boots the once-over before settling on the elephant suit. She didn’t really have much choice because it was the only new thing Jess owned, and it was also the only outfit that would fit her.
Actually, Jess thought, tossing her mother a soft pink scarf to brighten the outfit, it suited her.
‘It doesn’t look too bad, and at least I’ll be comfortable,’ she sniffed, giving her hair one last primp, looking much more like Jess’s mother and not the vagrant she’d picked up from the airport yesterday. Then they headed off for a day’s sightseeing.
The morning passed in a blur of hopping on and off the open-topped double-decker bus that did the rounds of the city. Thankfully, the weather behaved itself, and although it was cold, at least it wasn’t wet. They were too busy soaking up the city’s history to talk about anything more serious than the sights, and Jess was enjoying seeing Dublin through a newcomer’s eyes again.
Jess had arranged to meet up with Nora for lunch in Temple Bar, and being a nice day, the area was heaving. They picked their way along the cobbled street to Cafe Vivaldi, where she spied her friend. Nora was already sitting under one of the big umbrellas, having bagged a seat in the small outdoor area in front of the eatery.
Good , thought Jess as Nora waved; it was a place to sit and ‘be seen’. Mum will be in heaven . There was nothing like a spot of people-watching on a nice day in Dublin.
Nora’s dark glasses were firmly in place, a latte in front of her as she relaxed in the unexpected autumn sunshine. As they approached, she pushed her glasses up onto her head, scraped her chair back and stood up with a wide and welcoming smile. Marian, an apparition in elephantine grey, enveloped her in a warm hug, nearly knocking her off her Valentinos.
‘I’ve heard so much about you over the years; I feel like I already know you, my dear, and it’s lovely to finally put such a pretty face to the name,’ she enthused.
‘Sure, it’s great to finally meet you, too, Mrs Baré.’
Nora didn’t know it, but she’d just scored herself ten out of ten for pronouncing Baré in the correct manner first pop.
‘Call me Marian, dear.’
The two women sat down, and Jess, grinning at Nora, pulled a chair out and joined them.
‘Isn’t the atmosphere just lovely? There’s such a buzz about the place.’ Marian sighed contentedly as she gazed around at the teeming foot traffic.
‘Yes, Dublin always comes alive when the sun comes out, and this is a lovely spot to sit and just watch the world go.’ Nora smiled, obviously pleased her suggested meeting spot was being so well received.
‘And the coffee’s great, too. Mum, what do you fancy?’
‘A large latte and a sandwich would be lovely – you choose. It’s so nice to sit down, Nora; I tell you, we’ve been on the go all morning.’
Nora had already ordered, so Jess left Marian filling her friend in on their morning’s activities and headed inside the cafe.
When she reappeared with their table number in hand, the two women had moved on to the subject of Ewan. Marian was asking for the low-down, and Nora was only too happy to fill her in.
Their various sandwiches and paninis arrived, and the conversation flowed.
‘I love your outfit, Marian; it looks casual but smart at the same time – the perfect choice for sightseeing.’ Nora was staring at the older woman’s trouser suit as if it looked really familiar but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.
Jess sniggered. Nora fancied herself such a fashionista, she’d be horrified when she realised it was Jess’s trusty old elephant suit.
‘Thank you, dear; it’s actually Jessica’s. My case got left behind in Taiwan, so I had nothing with me but the clothes I was standing in.’
Nora’s face was a picture when she twigged, and as her mother chatted on, Jess felt herself relaxing in the warmth afforded by the sun. She didn’t know what she’d been so uptight about her mum coming over for. All that wasted energy worrying when it was all going to be fine. Today, in the unseasonal bright weather, all those little idiosyncrasies of hers that normally grated seemed muted. Or at least they had…
‘So what do you make of this Owen Jessica’s so keen on then, Nora?’
Jess’s shoulders stiffened. ‘Mum, you promised you weren’t going to say anything more until you’ve met him for yourself.’
‘I was only asking Nora’s opinion of him. What’s wrong with that if you’ve got nothing to hide?’
Nora squirmed. ‘Actually, Marian, I can’t say too much about Owen because I haven’t met him yet either, but from what Jess has told me, he sounds lovely. I’m not passing further judgement until she does introduce us, moreover – not after the botch-up I made introducing her to Nick.’
Marian’s eyes narrowed. ‘Yes, he was a bit of a wolf in sheep’s clothing, but you weren’t to know, dear. I get to meet Owen on Saturday. Jess is driving us up to this farm of his. I can’t say I’m looking forward to that.’
‘Mum!’
‘I meant going to a piggery for the day, not meeting this new friend of yours. I don’t know, Nora; she’s always been the same – so defensive.’ Marian smiled conspiratorially at Nora as though Jess weren’t seated right next to her before getting to her feet and announcing she had an urgent call of nature to attend to.
‘God, she never changes! Nobody else can wind me up as fast as she can. She’s such a bloody snob,’ Jess huffed as her mother disappeared inside the cafe, resisting the urge to poke her tongue out at her retreating back.
Nora grinned and patted her friend’s hand. ‘She’s your mam – that’s what they do to their children. You just take her too seriously, that’s all; she doesn’t mean anything by it, and at the end of the day, it’s your best interests she has at heart. I really like her. I can see a lot of you in her, actually.’
‘Nora Brennan, take that back – you can’t!’
‘I can, too. You have the same eyes and hair – hers is just shorter, that’s all.’
It wasn’t the first time Jess had heard the comparison made. ‘Yeah, well, that’s where the similarities end, and the only reason you’re so taken with her is because she wanted to hear all about your favourite subject – Ewan – so she can go home and tell all her mah-jong friends that she met the girl who’s dating Mr Movie Star.’
Marian rejoined the conversation, and when there was no further mention of Owen, Jess’s mood lightened again. Nora’s hour-long break flew by, and after they’d said their goodbyes to her, Jess tried to persuade her mother to go on the Dublin Viking Tour – she’d never admit it to anyone, but she’d always wanted to go on the bright-yellow amphibious vehicle that toured the city. The tour culminated in a ‘splash down’ at the Grand Canal Docks, but Marian wasn’t keen and wouldn’t be persuaded. She didn’t want to get her carefully curled hair wet.
Instead, they wandered through the Grand Post Office. Jess pointed out the bullet marks from the 1916 Easter Rising, engraved for all time in the building’s pillars. As her fingers ran over the indentations, she couldn’t help but think that this was where it had all started. Those men who’d taken part in the Rising with such a justifiable, downtrodden passion could never have known what would happen sixty-odd years later to a girl from Ballymcguinness. Shaking the morbid thoughts away, she linked her arm through her mother’s and led her back out to the street.
They moseyed along O’Connell Street so Marian could call into one of the many souvenir shops dotted around the city to stock up on all things leprechaun, then, laden down with bags, Jess suggested one more port of call – it was on their way home anyway, and besides, they’d earned a drink: the Brazen Head, Ireland’s oldest pub.
Sitting with her pint of perfectly poured Guinness in front of her – when in Rome, Marian had said, giggling as she’d placed her order, and if Jess hadn’t known better, she would have thought her mother was flirting with the handsome young bartender – she was in raptures as she soaked up the atmospheric interior of the little pub.
‘This is just how I envisaged an Irish pub – and look! They even have fiddlers playing on the weekend!’
She pointed to a poster on the wall with such enthusiasm that Jess felt a surge of warmth toward her. How was it she could love her mum so much one minute and then want to thump her the next?
Marian was very giggly, and the careful facade with which she normally carried herself had definitely slipped as they made their way home two drinks later, unaccustomed as she was to tippling in the afternoon. Jess had been horrified when she’d caught her blowing a kiss at a geriatric lorry driver who was leering out the window at them while they crossed the road. She’d taken her mother to task as well as by the elbow, steering her straight home after that incident.
To Jess’s dismay, Gemma and Jimmy were in full ‘discipline’ workout mode as they entered the quad, and Marian laughed fit to burst at the sight of them before asking who did they think they were: ‘Jane Fonda and Richard Simmons?’ Then, crossing her legs, she hobbled off in the direction of Jess’s wing as fast as her little legs could carry her, muttering about wetting herself if she didn’t get to the loo quick smart. Jess scurried after her, tossing an apology over her shoulder to Gemma and Jimmy, who called after her demanding to know who the hell Jane Fonda and Richard Simmons were.
Marian made it to the bathroom in the nick of time, and Jess had only just popped the kettle on to make her mother a strong cup of coffee when the intercom sounded, heralding the fact that her lost luggage was no longer lost.
‘Well, thank goodness for that! I feel I can relax and get properly into the holiday mode now,’ Marian said a few minutes later as she heaved her bulging case up onto her bed.
‘You could have fooled me, Mum. You looked like you were doing a pretty good job of getting in the holiday mode this afternoon.’
‘Yes, well, that Guinness did rather go to my head, but what happens on tour stays on tour, eh, Jessica?’
Jess cringed. It wasn’t an appropriate saying for one’s mother to come out with.
Oblivious of her daughter’s discomfort, Marian began rummaging through her case. ‘Here you go.’ She held a Smith she sounds a case.’
Jess changed the subject then, asking after Wilbur.
‘Aye, he’s doing grand. He’ll be ready to join his siblings any day now. I miss you,’ he finished, his voice growing husky.
Jess was glad there was nobody there to see the goofy look on her face as she said, ‘I miss you, too.’
She’d have liked to have said that she couldn’t wait for Saturday, but truth be told, she was dreading it.