The Old House on the Corner (26 page)

‘Then can’t
you
bring him to show Mummy?’ Tiffany persisted.

‘But Victoria’s just about to make us something to eat.’

‘The omelettes can wait a few minutes,’ Victoria said. They looked at each other, the spell between them broken.

‘Oh, all right then,’ Gareth said reluctantly. ‘Come on, Tabitha. You’re very popular tonight.’

At the Rees-Jameses, Tabitha was duly admired and petted. The delectable Sarah showed him to the baby, who chuckled and waved his arms in delight, and the little boy, Jack, demanded that they keep him.

‘We’ll get one of our own soon,’ Sarah promised. ‘You must think of a name for our kitten, Jack.’

‘Jason,’ Jack said promptly.

Gareth was a bit dismayed when Tiffany returned with him to Victoria’s. ‘Isn’t it time you went to bed,’ he said sternly when they were outside. Tabitha had fallen asleep against his neck.

‘But I left Oliver behind, he’ll be terribly upset, and I haven’t said goodnight to Danny,’ she said as she trotted along beside him. ‘I’m going to marry Danny when I grow up. I was going to marry Oliver, but I’ve changed my mind. He can be me and Danny’s little boy instead.’

‘I find that very confusing,’ Gareth admitted.

‘I don’t know what confusing means.’

They went through the back door. In the kitchen, Victoria was grating cheese. There was a bottle of red wine and two glasses on the table, a bowl of mixed salad, and a plate of bread and butter.

Tiffany regarded the miniature feast with interest. ‘If
you’re Victoria’s husband,’ she said to Gareth, ‘why do you live in another house?’

‘But I’m not Victoria’s husband.’

‘Then why is she making your dinner?’

‘It doesn’t automatically follow that if you share a meal with someone that you’re married to them.’

‘I don’t know what that big word means,’ Tiffany said gravely.

Gareth mouthed ‘help’ at Victoria and she giggled. ‘I think you’d better say goodnight to Danny and go home, Tiff. You’ve struck Gareth speechless.’

‘I didn’t touch him,’ Tiffany protested.

‘Jaysus, Mary and Joseph,’ Gareth groaned, letting his head drop on to the table with a thud, waking Tabitha who scuttled upstairs, just as Danny Jordan came marching down.

‘Mam’ll have the tea ready by now,’ he announced. ‘I’d better be going.’ He was a heavily freckled boy with flaming red hair and looked about fifteen.

Victoria introduced them. ‘Danny, this is Gareth. He’s a whiz on computers, miles better than I am.’

The two shook hands. Danny said he’d brought Oliver down with him and would take Tiffany home. The little girl took his hand and regarded him adoringly.

‘Things are getting clearer,’ Gareth said after the pair had gone.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Oliver’s a teddy bear. I thought he was a live human being.’

Victoria grinned. ‘Can I make the omelettes now?’

‘Unless there are more people likely to come downstairs, why not?’

‘Ma,’ Danny said excitedly when he went into number
two, ‘Victoria said I can have her computer when she leaves on Sunday.’

‘How much does she want for it, son?’

‘Nothing. She said I can have it for nothing. Our Patrick can have our old one for himself.’

Patrick frowned. ‘But that’s not fair.’

‘I don’t see why,’ Danny said reasonably. ‘You’ve only met Victoria the once and then you were rude to her. I’ve been there every day and she’s my friend.’

‘It’s a waste of time arguing about it,’ Marie pointed out. ‘There’s only room for one computer in the bedroom. The old one’ll have to go.’

‘
That’s
not fair!’ Danny argued. ‘Why should our Patrick use the new one when it’s mine?’

‘Because Patrick plays on the computer just as much as you and he can’t be denied the use of the only one we have. What do you think, Liam?’

Liam had been listening to the argument while half-watching the television news. ‘I think your mammy’s right. Tomorrow, perhaps Patrick could go and thank Victoria for such an expensive gift. Take her something, a little bunch of flowers, for instance. I’m sure she’ll be very pleased.’

Patrick looked at Marie. He was a much shyer, far more withdrawn lad than his brother. ‘Do I have to, Ma?’

‘It would be a nice gesture, son.’

‘I would call it a condition, not a gesture,’ Liam said evenly, ‘if you want to use the computer that Victoria is giving to Danny.’

It was rare that either of her lads lost their tempers, Marie was shocked to the core when Patrick’s face bulged with anger and went very red. ‘Who the shit do
you think you are, laying down conditions?’ he demanded thickly. ‘You’re not me da.’

‘Don’t swear, son,’ she said weakly. ‘And don’t speak to Liam in that way.’

‘I’ll speak to Liam in whatever way I like,’ Patrick said contemptuously. ‘He’s nothing to do with me. He’s in no position to talk to us about conditions.’

Marie noticed Danny edge closer to his brother. They might fight between themselves, but they always stuck together if the situation called for it. ‘I wouldn’t want to keep the computer to meself, not really,’ Danny said. He looked quite shaken by the argument. ‘Victoria surely meant it to be for Patrick too. I’m sorry about what I said before, Paddy.’ He nudged Patrick’s shoulder with his own and Patrick managed to raise a half-smile.

‘Ah, well, so that’s settled,’ Liam said easily. ‘I think I’ll go upstairs and have a wee read where it’s quiet.’

‘Are you all right now, Patrick?’ Marie asked after Liam had gone and the ensuing silence seemed to go on for far too long.

‘I’m OK.’ He didn’t look it. His face was still red and he was trembling with anger. ‘Can we go on the Internet d’you think, Ma? Me and Danny could log on to all sorts of interesting sites – it’d help with our homework. Someone has to come and fix it to the phone line.’

Danny’s eyes lit up. ‘Crazee! Oh, Ma, that would be great.’

‘If you want, son.’ Marie was surprised, not so much by the request, but that Patrick should make it now when he was so wired up and angry over Liam.

‘I’ve got all the stuff about it in our room. Danny, will you go and fetch it, please? It’s on the bookcase or the desk, I’m not sure which. I think it might be in a brown envelope.’

‘Sure thing.’ Danny sped eagerly upstairs.

‘I’ll be having a word with Liam,’ Marie promised when she and Patrick were left alone. ‘I don’t suppose he realises you’re almost a man. He …’

Before she could continue, Patrick broke in. ‘I think you could do with having more than a word, Ma. I think you could do with bolting your bedroom door an’all.’

Marie felt a blush spread from the roots of her hair down to the soles of her feet. ‘I don’t know what you mean, son,’ she gasped.

‘I think you do, Mam. I heard you with the priest last night. Our dad’s hardly been in his grave a year. If I were you, I’d be desperately ashamed.’ He looked at her sadly, his face no longer red, his eyes accusing.

‘We didn’t do anything, son, I told him to go away.’

‘Then you took a long enough time telling him: a good ten or fifteen minutes by my reckoning.’

‘I don’t know what got into me,’ Marie breathed, which was the God’s honest truth. ‘I do feel ashamed for letting him go as far as he did. I’ve felt so ever since. Everyone thinks he’s me husband, yet he’s a priest.’ The words tied themselves in knots in her throat. For months now, she hadn’t known if she were coming or going, her head a muddle of mad thoughts that she couldn’t make sense of, yet refused to go away.

Patrick was looking at her as if indeed she was completely mad. ‘When I was a girl,’ she continued, ‘there was this priest, Father Murphy. He was only young and as handsome as a film star. All the girls were madly in love with him – not just the girls, but the married women too. If he’d wanted, all he’d have had to do was snap his fingers and he could have had any one of us. He made us go weak at the knees. There’s nothing in this world we wouldn’t have done for him.’

‘Because he was a man or because he was a priest?’ Patrick asked.

‘A priest.’ Marie hung her head. It didn’t seem right to be talking to her son in this way. Upstairs, Danny could be heard searching the room for the Internet stuff that she suspected wasn’t there. Patrick had just used it as an excuse to get him out the way.

‘Priests are only flesh and blood like other men,’ Patrick stated. ‘It’s daft to put them on pedestals, invest them with some sort of magic and look up to them as if they were God Himself, vastly superior to everyone else. I’m surprised at you, Ma. This is the twenty-first century, you’re not a teenager, and I’d have thought you’d have grown out of it by now.’

‘I know I should have,’ Marie conceded, shamefaced. ‘I won’t do it again, lad, I promise.’ She felt as if a tremendous load had been taken off her mind. Like a silly little schoolgirl, she’d been blinded by the fact that Liam was a holy man and it had taken her seventeen-year-old son to make her see the light. ‘Your daddy’ll never be dead while you’re alive, Patrick. He was full of common sense, just like you.’

‘Tonight,’ Patrick said authoritatively, ‘you’re to bolt your door, just in case Liam has another try.’

‘The door doesn’t have a bolt.’

‘I know. I bought one this morning. I’ll put it on in a minute.’

The conversation had been stilted all night. They were both inhibited by what had happened before – had
nearly
happened before – that they didn’t feel easy with each other any more.

It was early when Gareth announced it was time he
went home. ‘I haven’t done anything on me footy site for days.’

‘Don’t forget to take Tabitha with you,’ Victoria reminded him.

‘Where is he?’

‘On my bed, asleep.’

‘I’ll fetch him.’

‘It’s the room on the left at the top of the stairs.’

Her room had windows at each end. The big double bed with ornate wooden boards at the top and bottom, sat beneath the window overlooking the square. There was an old-fashioned wardrobe and a chest of drawers to match, and a piece of furniture that was a cupboard with drawers underneath. His mother had one and he tried to remember what it was called – a tallboy, that was it. He wasn’t sure if you could still get them nowadays. The floorboards were badly in need of a fresh coat of varnish and there was a rag rug beside the bed.

If there’d been anything on top of the dressing table and tallboy then it had been removed and the room looked very bare apart from one corner where, in stark contrast to all this antiquity, a computer stood on a metal desk that was heaped with books and files and paper. More papers had spilled on to the floor.

This was where Victoria slept. Gareth went over to the bed – Tabitha was asleep in the centre of the rose-sprigged duvet. He knelt on the floor. ‘Time to go home, young man,’ he said, but Tabitha didn’t hear and slept on. He looked so vulnerable, Gareth thought, so tiny and isolated in the big stretch of flowered cotton, completely oblivious to the dangers that existed in the world outside.

Just like Victoria. All her relatives had died or gone
missing like her father. She had no one, yet she faced life with such cheerfulness and courage and innocence that it made him want to weep. In a few days, she was about to fly to a strange country where she didn’t know a single soul. A lump formed in his throat when he thought of all the terrible things that could happen to her in New York. He bent his head and laid it on the pillow where Victoria’s lay at night when she was asleep. ‘Please don’t go, darling,’ he whispered. ‘Stay here with me.’

‘I’m afraid that’s not possible, Gareth,’ Victoria said softly from the door. She came and sat on the bed. ‘I thought you’d fallen asleep.’

‘I was just thinking about how much I loved you.’

‘Don’t think it. Don’t say it. Don’t let it enter your head again.’ She looked terribly sad and terribly wise.

‘I can’t help it,’ Gareth groaned. He got to his feet, sat beside her, and took her in his arms.

Victoria sighed and lifted her face to his. This is very wrong. If I wasn’t going away, I wouldn’t be doing it.’

‘Say you love me, Victoria.’

‘I love you,’ Victoria said, just as Gareth’s mobile rang.

He groaned again, pulled it out of his pocket, and was about to switch it off when he saw Debbie’s name on the screen, but Victoria stopped him. ‘Answer it. It might be important.’

‘Gareth,’ Debbie said in a frightened voice. ‘Where are you?’

‘At a mate’s house.’ He did his best to sound considerate because she really did sound upset. ‘What’s the matter?’

‘I’ve just come home and there’s no sign of Tabitha. I’ve looked everywhere, but he’s disappeared. I thought you’d be here. I came back especially.’

‘I brought Tabitha with me. Don’t worry. I’ll be home in a minute.’ He rang off and made a face at Victoria. ‘I’ve got to go. Can I see you tomorrow?’

‘I should say no,’ she shrugged helplessly, ‘but I can’t.’

When he entered Hamilton Lodge, Debbie flew into his arms. ‘I’m sorry,’ she cried tearfully, ‘sorry for everything. I couldn’t find Tabitha and I wanted to die when I saw you weren’t here either. Oh, Gareth! It was horrible.’

Gareth patted her back and murmured, ‘There, there,’ in a kindly way, although all he could feel was irritation that the wife whom, until recently, he’d loved to bits, had interrupted him when he was about to make love to Victoria. He felt even more irritated when he noticed the two Per Una carrier bags on the floor. Debbie had been shopping again.

‘What’s the house like?’ Michael asked.

‘Very small, very modern, rather nondescript,’ Kathleen replied. ‘You’d hate it. The neighbours are nice, the ones I’ve met, that is.’

‘Well, at least it’ll be warm in winter. This place is like a fridge.’

‘We used to spend most of our time in the kitchen, didn’t we? I miss that kitchen, not that I’ve done much cooking so far.’

‘Do you miss
me
, Kath?’

Kathleen could imagine the sweet smile on her husband’s face as he spoke, the way his lips curled around the words in a way she’d always found very appealing. She reached for an ashtray and put it beside her on the floor. Steve was asleep, it was nearly midnight, and she’d
got up and phoned Michael because she needed someone to talk to and he was the only one she could confide in.