Love My Enemy (9 page)

'By the bleeding hearts of the sacred saints of Ireland!'

Zee had been practising Catholic oaths for a whole
fortnight now. She loved them, adored how the Papists
swore in complete sentences; it made her body tingle
with satisfaction in a way that muttering the odd clipped
Protestant swearword never had.

At times like these, she thought, when a basket of
multi-grain rolls had just nose-dived to the lawn, you
really needed a good strong Fenian oath.

'What do you think, girls?' asked Magda, helping Zee
pick out bits of grass and toss the rolls back into their
wicker basket.

'It looks brilliant,' Zee told her. 'We haven't had a
party in Hazel Grove for months – and not a garden
party for years.'

'It's time we made an effort to meet the neighbours. I
hope everyone enjoys themselves. Especially you,
Tasha,' she added, 'you've not been yourself lately.'

'Oh, who have I been?'

Magda's nostrils flared in irritation but she stifled a
reply and turned back to Zee. 'I'm particularly looking
forward to meeting your mum.'

'Oh.' It came out as a squeak, like an animal in pain. Zee
was dreading them meeting. How many times lately had
she told her mum that she was going to see Tasha when
really she was sneaking off to meet Conor? If that came out
in the conversation she would be dead meat. Gary, Des and
her mother would all queue up to murder her.

'Tasha says she's a keen gardener,' Magda went on.

'Mum can make just about anything grow.'

'Then I hope she'll give me some hints.' Magda
groaned as she surveyed her garden. The newly cut lawn
rolled away in front of them with all the character of an
airstrip. The flowerbeds edging it were lumpy and bare.

'I'm sure she'd be happy to,' said Zee, making a
mental note to encourage it; gardening was a safe topic.
Conor was her main concern but another niggling worry
was that her mum might cry. This garden party was a
First and she nearly always cried at Firsts. The First
Christmas without Dad, the First swimming trip, the
First Sunday drive. Please God, prayed Zee,
please
don't let her cry.

'At least the twins will have fun stuffing themselves,'
said Tasha, cutting into her thoughts.

'Those two could run riot here,' warned Zee, eyeing
the white linen clad tables with a sense of doom. She
could visualise pyramids of crockery crashing to the
ground, a landslide of sandwiches, a waterfall of
shattering glass . . .

'You leave them alone,' said Tasha, 'they're great!'
Lately she had grown fond of Josh and Gemma who
were still thrilled to find someone almost grown up who
would happily spend time creating dinosaur lands with
them or building dens. 'I wish I had a little brother or
sister,' she added.

'Sorry,' said her mum. 'I'm a bit past all that.'

Magda looked stunning in a green silk dress which
emphasised her perfect figure. Around her neck a string
of glass beads glittered and her salon-shiny bob swung
like a ship's bell. Zee hoped forlornly that her own
mother would remember to change out of her holey
gardening slacks before she came over.

'Come on,' said Magda, 'we need to help Miguel
manoeuvre his piano to the French windows. I've
persuaded him to play this afternoon.'

'Deep joy,' muttered Tasha.

'What is the matter with you?'

'I thought he might give it a rest today, that's all. I
spend half my life listening to Miguel bashing away at
that thing.'

'Whether you listen to him this afternoon is up to
you,' said Magda curtly. 'But right now you'll help us
move the piano.'

Later, when Magda had gone to check the sausage
rolls in the oven, Zee quizzed Tasha. 'You are going to
stick around this afternoon, aren't you?'

'Maybe.'

'Maybe? Like . . . maybe
not
if Gary turns up?'

'Don't look at me like that, Zee. He's driving me mad.
He won't stop phoning me. Sometimes he rings three
times in one day. Even Miguel got fed up and yelled
down the phone at him – but Gary's still ringing.'

'So why don't you talk to him? Explain that it's all
over. I know Gary can be a pain, but he's got his pride –
I bet he'd leave you in peace after that.'

'He's – he's kind of stuck on me.'

'You can't avoid him for ever, Tash.'

'No?' Tasha folded her arms defiantly. 'Just watch
me,' she said.

The Munros from Number 16 arrived first. They talked
about property prices until the Murrays from Number 22
arrived, then the two families exchanged prolonged
comments about the unusually settled weather. Old Mr
Cummings, another keen gardener, leaned on his stick
and frowned at the empty flowerbeds. Then the
O'Keefes came, en masse, all scrubbed up in their
Sunday Best. Conor nodded hello to Zee then he ignored
her as arranged.

When Johnny MacGuinness arrived with his wife,
Connie, everyone relaxed. It was impossible to be
straitlaced with Johnny around.

'Isn't MacGuiness a Catholic name?' Tasha asked Zee
quietly. 'Those two seem awfully popular.'

'They're good fun – and they don't have any kids.'

'So?'

'So they're not a threat to Protestant Ulster,' said Zee
wickedly, 'unlike the O'Keefes who have eight kids.
Remember, when there's a majority in the North who
want a united Ireland, we'll probably have one.'

'Is that why Catholics here have such big families?'

'We Prods do too! We take our responsibilities
seriously, you know.' Zee grinned. 'Of course, Johnny
MacGuiness provides an important public service too.'

'You told me he was a bookie.'

'Exactly.'

Johnny was wheezing with laughter as he told a story,
his face as creased as a clown's.

'Worried?' he replied to a question. 'I wasn't a bit
worried when I saw those scoundrels had pinched me
Rover. They hadn't touched me ould Lada – the two cars
were sitting there like Jack and Jill, side by side in me
drive.'

'Surely you'd rather they'd taken the Lada than the
Rover?' asked Mr Munro.

'The doors wide open in both of them,' laughed
Johnny. 'Alarms off. But in the Lada there was five
thousand pounds in the glove compartment!'

He folded up in laughter amid exclamations all round
and he only just managed to wheeze out an explanation.
'An outsider came in last Thursday – Ice Cool at fifty to
one. Sure, I made a packet out of Ballyrainey the
favourite. I just hadn't got round to banking it –
wouldn't the toe-rag of a thief be sick if he knew he'd
driven away from five thousand quid!'

Zee was still laughing when Des's oily voice startled
her.

'Hello, darlin'.'

He stared at her tanned shoulders, bare beneath the
thin orange straps of her sun top. Out of the corner of her
eye, Zee could see Conor watching from a distance. She
took a step back but Des just lurched towards her.
Picking up a tray of smoked salmon sandwiches she
positioned it carefully in between them.

'Help yourself, Des,' she said.

'Fish pieces – yuck!'

He had the social graces of a pig, thought Zee. How
could she ever have put herself in a compromising
position with Desperate Des? When Gary appeared a
moment later Zee almost felt relieved.

'Where's Tasha?' demanded Gary, a little out of breath.

'She was here a minute ago.' Zee looked around in
surprise.

'I know that, I saw her.'

Des was leering again. 'I wish I had Tasha's powers
of evaporation,' Zee muttered awkwardly.

'I need to talk to her.' Gary lowered his voice. 'You're
her mate, Zee. What's wrong with her? Why won't she
see me?'

'Lots of reasons. Maybe she doesn't like the friends
you keep for starters.'

'You mean those guys in the park? I won't be doing
any more jobs for them – I swear.'

'Good.' Zee scowled at Des. 'I was thinking of friends
closer to home, actually.'

Des guffawed loudly, spluttering lemonade, or
possibly something stronger. 'Gary and Tash had a great
time together, Zee – know what I mean?'

'Stop shouting,' she hissed, 'you're making a show of
us.' People were glancing round and – worse – Conor
was moving closer. Zee felt panic bubbling up, like
sweat on the inside. 'I've gotta go,' she told them.

'I'll go with you, darlin'.' Des flung his arm around
her neck. 'We can find ourselves a wee quiet corner,
somewhere. Take up where we left off. Whaddaye say?'

'No thanks!' Zee shook him off in disgust.

'Come on. Gimme a chance to change your mind.'
His arm went round her shoulders again and this time it
took a shove to get rid of him.

'I'm
not
going to change my mind, Des.'

'Aye you will. You're up for it.'

'What did you say?'

'All girls are up for it.'

Zee lost it. Was she to blame if Des was as thick as
mince? Some people just needed to be told. 'All girls are
not
up for it,' she shouted at him, 'you got that? I
wouldn't go with you if you were the last man on the
planet. You look like you need plastic surgery, you've
got a mouth like a megaphone, and if you'd more than
one brain cell you'd be dangerous. Now once and for all
leave me alone
!'

Around them conversations stopped. Mrs Murray's
mouth puckered up like a drawstring purse. Johnny
MacGuinness looked fit to explode with laughter again,
and she saw Des's mum turn her back. But worst of all
Conor came shooting through the crowd like a missile,
and landed right in front of Des.

'You heard her,' he said. 'Anything you didn't understand,
Mastermind?'

Des swung for him. The punch didn't land because
Conor just leaned back and Des whirled right round and
fell over. It wasn't till then that Zee realised he was
drunk.

'Conor,' she warned, 'this has
nothing
to do with you.'

Gary looked thoroughly pleased with her. He
practically swaggered as he leaned into Conor's face.
'That's you told, Fenian boy. Get lost!'

Conor scowled back at him. 'Are you sure you want
me to leave you with these two, Zee?'

'Too right I am!'

He shot her an offended look and drifted off reluctantly.
The other guests returned to their conversations.
Des struggled to his feet.

'Why didn't you hit him, Gary?' he cried, dusting
himself off.

'This is a party, Des, a posh do.'

'That Fenian insulted me!'

'Away and lie down, or get a drink or something.'
Gary sounded fed up. 'I've gotta find Tasha.'

But Des was livid. Zee could tell that even if Gary
couldn't. Des's plump face was twitching and he
grabbed her arm.

'Why d'you show me up like that? I'll get you –
bitch!'

'You? You couldn't get a suntan in a heatwave!'
Something stopped Zee there. Something horrible about
the way he looked at her. It was the same thing that had
scared her back at the football pitch, a wildness just
behind his face. As if there was something really nasty
inside him, something tied down – but only just.

'There's Mum!' Spotting her with relief, Zee had
spoken out loud.

'Better go to Mommy then!'

Zee darted through the crowd and Gary followed her,
muttering about Zee being the one with a mouth like a
megaphone. Small children had started rolling down the
grassy banks and the big lawn was busy. There was a
hum about the place now and the sun was hot. Zee heard
snippets of conversation about holidays and DIY and, of
course, endless Irish politics. Her mother stood at the
edge of it all, looking a little nervous with the twins
pegged one on each side of her.

'Mum, you made it!'

'Of course I made it,' she replied. 'You make me
sound like a nervous wreck.'

'What are you wearing?' asked Gary, walking right
round his mother. 'Is that a curtain?'

'I told her she looked like the sofa,' chirped Josh.

Gary laughed rudely. 'You should have made yourself
a matching hat – out of a cushion cover.'

Zee heard her mother's tone sharpen. 'Gary, have you
been drinking?'

'Would I?' he said innocently but he melted away at
once.

Gemma let out a whoop of delight. 'Look at those
meringues, Josh!'

'Only one,' Zee told them sternly, 'and no playing
under those tables. They might collapse and all that food
would ruin. And don't try lifting one of those big Coke
bottles – especially don't shake them – and see you mind
your language!'

Whether they paid the slightest attention Zee couldn't
tell but her stomach coiled up as she watched them
depart for the food.

'So, where's Magda?' asked her mother. 'I really
ought to have made the effort to come and say hello
before now.'

Zee led her towards a sycamore tree where Magda
and Miguel were greeting neighbours. There was no
escape now, thought Zee, no way she could postpone
this meeting for a moment longer. 'You really should
treat yourself to a new dress, Mum,' she agonised.

'I would if I had a bit more money.'

But Magda did not seem to notice the dress. 'Hello,
Sue!' she cried as they approached. 'I've been longing to
meet you. We think your daughter is wonderful, don't
we, Miguel?'

'Thank you, Magda – I think she's pretty special too.'

'It's so nice that she and Tasha have made friends.
Zee has promised me your gardening expertise, you
know. I hope you don't mind?'

'You could lose out,' said Sue, twinkling.

'I thinks not. This garden – it is too big,' warned
Miguel rolling his eyes heavenwards.

'I can see it's quite a challenge but I'd be delighted to
give you advice.'

Zee felt proud of her mother. Magda might be a
successful and hard-working juggler of home and
career, but her mum had her very own charm. They
talked rose bushes and rockeries and water features until
Zee coughed meaningfully.