Chapter 47
47
Mother and daughter spent Thursday amicably riding the Dart in either direction with no mention of Owen. Instead, Marian kept up a running commentary, filling Jess in on how her father had decided to retire at the end of the year and how her sister was so excited about the idea of a new baby when it happened but that she had no idea how she’d manage with five. ‘The children will have to help out more. You know, when I was Mia’s age, I used to…’
Jess let the conversation flow over her, enjoying all the trivia that was part and parcel of family life. She did miss being part of it all first-hand sometimes, instead of always hearing the family’s news after the event.
They had morning tea in Malahide, and as Jess sat in the quaint little cafe with her mother, sipping a cup of tea, a plate of scones with jam and cream between them, she couldn’t help but recall her last visit to Malahide. How things had changed, she thought, checking her phone to find a saucy text message from Owen. She blushed as she read it, too embarrassed to send one back with her mother sitting right there.
Marian, partial to a bit of namedropping at the best of times, thoroughly enjoyed hearing who lived where as they rode the train down to Greystones later that afternoon. ‘Wait until I tell them all at mah-jong that I saw Enya’s castle, and I swear that was Rick Stein outside that lovely little pub in Malahide.’
Jess smiled to herself. It had been a nice day and it wasn’t over yet; they still had time for a wander along the beach and a quick drink at the pub before they’d need to get the train to Bray. Brianna had invited them for an early dinner as Pete was working late.
‘So, Marian, what do you think of our fair city then?’ Brianna asked, passing her the bowl of scalloped potatoes. ‘Harry, eat with your mouth closed, please. Remember your manners.’
‘Oh, I love it! All the history and culture is just wonderful. We’re such a new country in New Zealand by comparison. Jessica’s been showing me a fabulous time, and it’s marvellous to meet her lovely friends and see where she lives at long last.’
Jess was impressed by her mother’s use of so many different adjectives and how animated her face was. She crossed her fingers under the table and hoped that same enthusiasm would carry through to Saturday when she met Owen.
‘From now on, when she telephones us, I’ll be able to picture exactly who, what or where it is she’s talking about.’ Marian paused as she concentrated on spooning potatoes onto her plate, her face donning a petulant expression. ‘Not that she phones us much – it’s usually the other way round.’
‘Oh, Marian, I’m sure that’s not true.’
It was, actually, Jess thought, feeling a frisson of shame. She’d have to start making more of an effort, but just as she’d promised to faithfully phone home once a week, her mother opened that big mouth of hers again.
‘Of course, Brianna, I’m only here for a fortnight, and I’d have liked to have gone down to Cork this weekend to kiss the Blarney Stone, but Jessica’s informed me we’re going up north to a pig farm to meet this man friend of hers instead.’
Jess bristled. ‘Oh well, at least I’ll be saving you from a bout of herpes by not kissing the Blarney.’
The much-kissed piece of rock at Blarney Castle was a tourist favourite, given the legend that whoever kissed the stone would be bestowed with the gift of the gab – something her mother didn’t need to worry about, Jess thought, fixing her with a black look.
‘What’s herpes, Mam?’ Harry’s eyes were big, his mouth open in a vision of masticated peas.
‘Sorry,’ Jess mouthed at her friend.
Brianna decided avoidance was the best reply. ‘Oh well, you’re not missing much, Marian; you can’t get near the place for tourists normally. Now going up north, well, you’ll get to see the real Ireland, and the scenery up that way is just stunning. From what Jessica’s told me, too, Owen’s farm is like something out of a storybook. Sure you’ll have a lovely time, so you will.’
Good old Brianna , Jess thought, flashing her friend a grateful smile as she passed the carrots over.
‘Harry and I grew the carrots together, didn’t we, poppet?’
Harry nodded.
‘I’ve found involving him in the garden is a great way to get him to eat his veggies.’
‘Oh, I agree. Kelly – that’s Jessica’s sister – says the same thing, and she has a wonderful vegetable garden on the go.’
‘Yeah, that Dad tends for her,’ Jess muttered.
Marian ignored the comment. ‘Have you met him then, this pig farmer friend of Jessica’s, Brianna?’
Jess’s knife hovered over her plate; she wished her mother wouldn’t use that tone of voice each time she referred to Owen’s profession.
‘No, not as yet, but I’m sure I’ll get to do so in the near future. I’m looking forward to it. He sounds divine.’
‘Do you think so?’ Marian raised a haughty eyebrow, and Jess’s leg twitched violently under the table with the urge to kick her.
Oblivious to her daughter’s leg spasm, she cut into her chicken breast to reveal the ham-and-cheese stuffing inside. Then, not giving Brianna a chance to answer, she popped it in her mouth, chewed and declared it to be delicious. ‘Is there any chance of passing some cooking tips on to my daughter? I always say a woman needs to be a maid in the living room, a cook in the kitchen and a whore in the bedroom.’ She tittered in that irritating ‘all girls together’ giggle of hers – except they weren’t all girls together.
‘Mum! That’s Jerry Hall’s quote, not yours, and remember who else is at the table.’ Jess’s eyes flicked toward Harry, who was looking perplexed once more by the strange adult conversation going on over the top of his head.
‘Mam, what’s a whore?’
After dessert and with Harry out of earshot, a lively chat between Marian and Brianna had ensued about all the horrible things little boys get up to. Marian had come up trumps with her tale of how her grandsons’ favourite pastime was crossing swords in the shower in order to pee all over one another, but Brianna had been the hands-down winner with the Harry-doing-a-poo-on-the-compost-pile story. The three women had stared in silence at the empty bowl of home-grown carrots and then Jess had announced that if they were going to catch the 8 p.m. train, then they’d best be making a move.
As they made to leave, Brianna pulled Jess to one side, whispering out the corner of her mouth, ‘I like your mam, Jess, I really do. Once you get beneath that front she tries to put on, she’s a sweetie, but I tell you what – if Harry decides to tell his class all about whores and herpes for news tomorrow, I will hold her personally responsible.’