Chapter 30
30
Wednesday morning and all was quiet at Kearney’s Farm, Lenehan said, when I rang for our daily check-in.
“Great,” I said. “And you’re okay?”
“All good,” he said.
“Well, if you need anything, you know where I am.”
I hung up. I should be feeling relieved. Uplifted, even. Except…I didn’t entirely trust the peace. Surely it couldn’t be this easy?
My concern was that over the last four days I’d met a lot of people here and none of them, I’d sensed, had done the damage.
On the way down to breakfast I bumped into Joey, who looked dishevelled. “I’m going up to Micah’s,” he said. “I need clean clothes.”
“You’re buying stuff? You flash piece. Just wash them in your sink. Or…” I gave him a look. “You could get Vivian to do it.”
“Hah! Jealous, are you? But you’ve got the goon hot for you.” In a quick change of tone, he said, “When I’m back from Micah’s, can we have a catch-up? See you in the lounge?”
In the breakfast room, two waiters I’d never seen before were darting about, carrying plates of food. This place was gearing up for a busy weekend. Right on cue, my phone rang. Mum.
“Here’s our final offer,” she said. “Just myself and Helen. No one else. Not a single other person.”
“Just two of you.”
“Just two of us. And Margaret.”
“Just two of you? And Margaret? That’s three, Mum.”
“You’re entitled to your opinion.”
“What about Rachel?”
“No men are allowed and she won’t come without Luke, she might have to last half an hour without him ‘going down’ on her. It’s a disgrace that a woman of my age has to know such things.”
“Mum, if you’re really coming, you can’t stay in my room. Book an Airbnb.”
“I will not stay in one of them, there’s too many rules. Locked drawers that could contain anything—severed heads, dead babies. And all the cleaning you have to do! I want room service and nice towels and people I can complain to.”
“So pay for a hotel room. You have enough money.”
“I do, I suppose.”
—
In the lounge, as I waited for Joey, I checked the email account. More rumors. More racism. Two offers of sex.
The new rumors unsettled me, especially one insisting that the current build was only the first phase of the Kearney project. According to [email protected], a four-story edifice was in the pipeline and the Kearneys had the “planning permission people in their pocket.”
Almost every rumor so far had turned out to be nonsense. The worrying thing was that they just kept coming. The feeling—that we’d placated people who’d never really been angry—arrived again.
And here came Joey, no longer wearing the hoodie I’d made him buy in Dunnes, but a soft, cable-knit geansaí in a dark blue.
“How was Micah’s?” I asked.
“It was…like a time capsule. I was really only looking for the basics—socks and the rest. Lotta nylon up there. Lotta nylon. Scooby Doo jocks.” He laughed. “I’d flashbacks to when I was six.”
“But your new sweater is beautiful.”
“Yeah!” He shoved up the sleeves and flexed his inked forearms, briefly revealing some words on his right arm. “I feel, yeah… manly , like I could go out and catch a boatload of haddock. It’s not from Micah’s but another shop. Some woman called Ferne? So friendly. Gave me twenty percent off.”
I bet she did.
“Sit down.” Curiosity got the better of me. “What’s that ink say?”
He held up the tender inside of his right arm, so I could read it. It said, “I am not afraid to walk this world alone.”
“Not true.” There was self-mockery in his smile. “But when I got it done, I wished I was.”
“Tell me about that?” I nodded at a colorful floral piece.
“The roses? For my granny—she was good to me. A great gardener. She died when I was nine, I was heart broken.” He held up the inside of his left arm, displaying a column of four tiny hearts. “One for each of my kids. The Celtic warrior band?” He looked a little embarrassed. “Young, Irish, defiant, living overseas: it was a rite of passage. Luke has one too.”
“And this?” An intriguing blue and black circle sat higher up, close to his elbow. “Oh, it’s a wave .” One perfect wave, curling over onto itself. “What inspired that?”
“My uncle Dinny. Mum’s brother. Spent his life at sea. Working on cargo ships. I wanted to be him.”
“It’s absolutely beautiful. Right! There’s new rumors we need to address.”
Immediately he got out his phone, then slid on his glasses.
“Hot,” I said. “And cross.”
He actually grinned, then set about dismissing the emails. “This, about the planning permission, is absolute bullshit. So is the one about housing refugees. So is…Anna, they’re all bullshit. Except for the offers you’ve been made. Up to you what you do with them. AubergineDick sounds promising.”
“Right! I thought that too. I’ll give him a shout.”
“Seriously, though, these assholes should have the law on them.”
“Joey. Stop. All women have to put up with this shit.”
“Doesn’t make it all right.”
“We’re not going to talk about it. So I’ll put the info about the planning permission, et cetera, up on the various Facebooks.”
“Face books ? Plural? How many?”
“Loads. Well, five or six. You know how it is: Maumtully Chats; Maumtully Neighbors; Maumtully Potholes…”
“Strictly a WhatsApp man here. I’m in about fifty groups.” Then, “Although I never look at any of them. Wheelie bins and stuff. So now we need to visit the site and talk through a new timeline with Tipper Mahon. The construction work can start again tomorrow. By close of business today, you and I can head back to Dublin. Job done.”
“I was thinking I might stay a little longer.”
“No need. You’ll be paid for the full week.”
“I’ve a feeling this isn’t over yet.”
“It’s over.” He was definite.
“Well, you’re the boss. But there’s a second reason I want to stay.”
“To put the moves on Ike Blakely?” Sternly, but obviously joking, he said, “You’re just out of a long thing with Torres, you shouldn’t rush straight into a new relationship. You do know that?”
“Thank you, Agony Aunt Joey. No, it’s Mum and Helen, you know, my sister?”
“Uh-uh.” He colored slightly.
“They want to come for the weekend. Mum says there’s a funfair.”
“There actually is. I just saw them unloading bumper cars from a lorry.”
“But I’ll pay for my room from tonight.”
“Nope. We’ll call it a consultancy expense. You’re good until, well, when do you want to leave? Monday? Tuesday? Monday it is. So, you’re still very close, you and your sisters? Who else? Who are your ride-or-dies?”
This was still a surprisingly sore subject. “Everything got very…” I sought the correct word. “… streamlined because of the pandemic. So many people left New York. And now I’m here, having to construct an entire life from the ground up, after living in another country for eighteen years. So ride-or-dies? Nobody.”
Embarrassed color edged his cheekbones. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. “You still miss her?”
It was complicated. Who knew what she was like now. But…“I’ve never met anyone as suited to me as her. Maybe she’s changed a lot and we wouldn’t vibe now, but the way we were? Oh God, yes.” My voice became wistful. “She was this amazing ally, always in my corner. And so positive, such fun. But because it had always been so easy with her and me, I hadn’t a clue what to do when things got ugly.” I stopped, then blurted, “I still dream about her.”
“Anna.” Joey sounded appalled.
“You see a lot of her?”
“Only because of Trea. I mean, we get along okay. Jacqui and Elisabeth, though?” His face went Yikes. “You couldn’t get more different. You know she’s—”
“—married? I do.” Although I was blocked on Facebook and her Insta was private, Jacqui and I still had a handful of mutuals.
“Griff’s his name. He’s sound. They’ve a little boy, Ollie, he’s nine. My three are mad about him. She lives in Banagher in Offaly. Do you know she works in ‘the most expensive hotel in Ireland’?”
“No.” I’d known she was still in hotels. But…“Do you mean Arcadia?” Fuzzy details were coming to me, probably from the magazine on the plane.
“That’s the place. An upgraded Victorian mansion where you cosplay lord of the manor for a night, then fork out over a month’s salary for the privilege.”
“Everyone has dinner together at one long table? Kippers for breakfast? Shooting parties? Did Claire stay there…? If it’s the place I’m thinking of, it was ‘death by upholstery.’?”
Joey groaned. “But, Anna, it’s so impressive. The old house was an absolute shambles—then two years and fifty million euro later, it’s a world-class super-hotel. That was one of the projects I missed out on, by less than six months. Still hurts.”
“I can’t see Jacqui fitting in in a place like that.”
“She says the guests are no trouble. None of the stress of New York.”
“And she likes that? I get it. These days I prefer a quieter life too.”
“Right…Totally.” He looked mortified. “And she never…?”
Forgave me? Spoke to me again? “No.”
A new staff member, a young woman, looking excessively glam for eleven in the morning—lips, lashes, the lot—swished her way to our table.
Haughtily, she asked, “Are you Anna?”
I nodded, enjoying her attitude.
“And you”—she switched her disdainful stare to Joey—“must be the go-boy?”
“I must be.” Joey seemed as entertained as I was. “And you’re Teagan?”
She recoiled. “How do you know?”
“We met yesterday morning. You tried to stop me taking a tray up to Anna.”
“Because, yeah, we don’t do room service.”
“But you weren’t doing it. I was.”
“Semantics.” Teagan flicked her ponytail. “So, I’ve a message for the pair of you. From Vivian. There’s a sesh tonight in the Spanish. A welcome-home thing. You’re to come, she says. It’s an order, she says.”
Seriously? Vivian was hilarious. “What time?”
Teagan couldn’t have been less interested. “Eight? Nine? I don’t know. You can ask”—unwarranted contempt was applied to her next word—“ Courtney when she’s in.”
A message was pushing its way up from my subconscious. “Are you…? In some way…? Related to Courtney?”
The girl shut her eyes, leant on the table and hissed, “Madre de Dios!”
“That’s a yes?” Joey said.
“She’s my mom,” she almost wailed. “How did you know?”
“Your competence.” Joey actually sounded sincere.
“Not because I look like her?”
She shouldn’t have said that. Because as soon as I studied her face, I saw that yes, Courtney was in there. There was nothing wrong with Courtney but who wants to look like their mum?
With a flounce, Teagan was gone. Using her fist to bang open the swinging door behind the bar, she disappeared. Soon afterwards, a faint shriek reached us.
“Oh dear,” Joey murmured. After a suitably respectful pause had elapsed, he said, “Should we go to Vivian’s thing?”
“It would do no harm. Hearts and minds, Joseph, hearts and minds.”
“Okay. But I need to leave early tomorrow morning. My boys are off to Fuerteventura for the long weekend. I want to see them before they go.”
“Why aren’t you going?” I was confused. “I thought you and Elisabeth got on great?”
“We do. Within reason. But…”
I held my breath.
“…she’s met someone else.”
“Oh, Joey.”
“Ah, yanno, he’s grand. Wesley’s his name. Solid man. Much more suited to her than I ever was. He’s been gradually introduced into the boys’ lives. This is their first holiday, the five of them.”
“But what about you and Elisabeth parenting as if you were still together?”
“This is how we have to do it.” He looked bleak. “Life moves on. She was always going to meet someone else. She’s built for coupledom. That’s the challenge, isn’t it? Still presenting a united front to the boys even though she’s got another partner. Husband, actually. He’ll be her husband as soon as possible. I know her.”
Tentatively, I placed my hand on his. Instantly, goosebumps puckered his forearm.
I moved back as if scalded.
“Jesus.” He slid me a shamefaced look. “I’m not used to sympathy.”
Not for the first time with Joey, I thought my heart would cave in.
“I don’t mind Elisabeth meeting someone. But I’m afraid my boys will love him more than they love me.”
“Oh God. Joey—”
“No.” He held up his hand. “No platitudes.”
“You love them so much. You’re devoted to them and they know that. You’re their dad and no matter who Elisabeth meets, they’ll always love you the most.”