Circle of Friends (64 page)

But he didn’t say it. He didn’t dare to say it out of politeness, and out of superstition.

Nan watched fields turn into first factory premises and then housing estates. They would soon be home. She would ask him to leave her at the corner of Maple Gardens. As soon as his car had disappeared, Nan would go to the bus stop.

She would come into College early and get herself ready for lectures.

Not that her heart was in them. But she couldn’t go home. Her father thought she was staying with Eve Malone in Dun Laoghaire, instead of sneaking into Eve’s cottage in Knockglen.

It would confuse and worry her mother. Let Jack go home to his house with hot water and clean shirts, and a mildly perplexed mother and a maid putting bacon and egg on the table. He had nothing to worry about, a lover and a patient, loving girl friend. From what you read in books it was what all men wanted.

Nan bit her lip as they drove along in silence. She would have to tell him very soon. She could see no other way out.

That night when she lay on her bed she examined the options. This was the only one that looked as if it might possibly work.

She was not going to think about Benny. Jack had said that was his business. It had nothing to do with what was
between them. Nan didn’t really believe that. But he had said that it was up to him to cope with. She had enough to worry about.

She could not confide in one single person because there was nobody alive who would condone what she was about to do. For the second time in a month she was going to have to tell a man that she was pregnant. And with the unfairness of life, the second one who had no duty or responsibility would probably be the one to do the right thing.

Mossy’s mother said that May was nice for a wedding. Paccy Moore said they could have the reception in the room behind his shop. After all, his sister Bee was being the bridesmaid, and Patsy didn’t have a home of her own.

It wasn’t what Patsy had hoped. The guests coming through the cobbler’s shop. But it was either that or let it be known she was coming in with nothing to her mother-in-law’s house and have the gathering there.

What she would really have liked was to be able to use Lisbeg, and have the reception in the Hogans’ house, but it didn’t look likely. The master would only be four months gone. The mistress and Benny spent that much time above in the shop they would have little time and energy to spare for Patsy. She was getting a dress at Pine’s. She had been paying for it slowly since Christmas.

Clodagh told Benny about Patsy’s hopes. “It may be impossible, I’m not suggesting you do it, it’s just that you’d hate to hear afterward and not have realized.”

Benny was very grateful to be told. It was bad of them not to have thought of it in the first place. They had assumed that all the running would be made by Mossy’s side and didn’t even think of suggesting a venue.

Patsy’s joy knew no bounds. It was one in the eye for Mossy’s mother. She began to get the wedding invitations printed.

“And how’s your own romance?” Clodagh inquired. “I believe he was down here the other night.”

“God, I wish he had been. I
think
it’s going all right. He’s always coming looking for me and suggesting this and that, but there’s a cast of thousands as well.”

“Ah well, that’s all to the good. He wants to show you to his friends. And he has friends. That lunatic across the road there has no friends except people who sell pinball machines and jukeboxes. I could have sworn I saw him at Dessie Burns’ getting petrol.”

“Who? Fonsie?”

“No, your fellow. Oh well, I suppose there’s dozens of handsome blokes in college scarves getting petrol in Morris Minors.”

“It’s not only Mr. Flood who’s seeing visions,” Benny said to Jack next day. “Clodagh thought she saw you getting petrol in Knockglen the other night.”

“Would I have come to Knockglen and not gone to see you?” he asked.

It was a ridiculous question. It didn’t even need an answer. She had only brought it up to show him that he was a person there, that he had an identity.

He breathed slowly through his teeth and remembered the shock that he and Nan had got when he realized the petrol gauge was showing empty. They had to fill up there and then. There would be nowhere open when they made their dawn escape.

Another very near miss. He wouldn’t tell Nan about it. He hoped Benny wouldn’t.

Sean Walsh was taking his early morning walk. These days he was accompanied by the two unattractive Jack Russell terriers with whom he would be sharing his home. They
were less yappy and unpleasant if they were wearied by this harsh morning exercise.

He had ceased to look at the houses with the resentment and longing that he had once felt.

Things had turned out very much better than he would have dared to hope.

Dorothy was a woman in a million.

From Eve Malone’s cottage he saw two figures emerge. The early sunlight was in his eyes and he couldn’t see who they were.

They ran hand in hand, almost scampered down the path that led to the square. He squinted after them. They both looked vaguely familiar. Or perhaps he was imagining it. They must be Dublin people who had rented or borrowed the cottage.

But where were they going?

It was much too early for a bus. There had been no cars in the square.

It was a mystery, and that was something Sean Walsh didn’t like at all.

Lilly Foley spoke to her husband about Jack.

“Three nights last week, and three again this week John. You’ll have to say something.”

“He’s a grown man.”

“He’s twenty. That’s not a grown man.”

“Well, it’s not a child. Leave him be. When he’s passed over for a team, or fails an exam,
that’s
the time to talk to him.”

“But who could he be with? Is it the same girl, or a different one each time?”

“It’s a fair distance on the old mileometer I notice, whoever it is.” Jack’s father laughed roguishly.

He had found a receipt for petrol from Knockglen. It must be that big girl Benny Hogan. Which was a turnup for
the books, and where on earth did they go? Her father had died, but her mother was strict. Surely she wouldn’t have been able to entertain Jack in her house?

Heather rang Eve. “When are you coming home? I miss you.”

Eve felt absurdly flattered.

She said she’d come soon, next weekend or the weekend after.

“It doesn’t have to be the weekend.”

Eve realized that was true. It didn’t.

She was free to leave any afternoon. She could travel on the bus with Benny. She’d have tea with Mother Francis and the nuns and then take Heather up to the cottage. She’d hear at first hand how the plans for the Easter pageant were going. She could go to see Benny’s mother and admire the changes in Hogan’s. She could call to Mario’s to end the evening. Knockglen was full of excitement these days. She might go tomorrow, but she had better check it wasn’t a night that Benny was coming to town. It would be silly to miss her.

Benny said they’d skip a lecture and meet on the three o’clock bus. That way they’d have a bit of time. They had sandwiches in the place that the boys liked. The pub with the relaxed view about the Holy Hour.

Aidan, Jack and Bill were there. Rosemary had called in to borrow ten shillings. She needed to have a hairdo in a very good place. Tom the medical student had been harder to pin down than she had hoped. It was time for heavy remedies now, like new hairstyles.

Nobody felt like work, but Eve and Benny refused the offer of being taken to play some slot machines in an amusement arcade.

“I’m getting the bus,” said Benny.

“Good-bye Cinderella.” Jack blew her a kiss. His eyes were very warm. She must have been mad to worry about him.

Benny and Eve left the pub.

Aidan said that he felt sure those two would be up all night and maybe bopping till dawn in Mario’s.

“What?” Jack spilled some of his drink.

He hadn’t realized that Eve was going back to her cottage. He had arranged to meet Nan on the quays at six o’clock. They had been planning to go to the very same place.

Nan Mahon walked briskly down toward the river. Her overnight bag contained the usual sheets, pillowcases, candlesticks, breakfast and supper materials. Jack just brought a Primus stove and something to drink.

But this time Nan had packed a bottle of wine as well. They might need it. Tonight was the night she was going to tell him.

Heather was overjoyed to see Eve. As she went through the school hall she called her over excitedly. There was a rehearsal in progress, and she was wearing a sheet. Heather Westward was playing Simon of Cyrene, the man who helped Jesus to carry his Cross.

It was something that Knockglen would not have believed possible a few short weeks ago.

“Are you coming to cheer me on when we do it for real?” Heather wanted to know.

“I don’t think cheering you on is what Mother Francis had in mind …”

“But I’m one of the good people. I help him. I step forward and lighten his burden,” Heather said.

“Yes. I’ll certainly come and support you.”

“You see, I won’t have any relations here like everyone else has.”

Eve promised that she would be there when the pageant was performed. She might even bring Aidan so that Heather would have two people. Eve Malone knew very well what it was like to be the only girl in the school who had nobody to turn up with a cake for the sale of work or with applause for the pageants and the plays. That had been her lot all during her years in St. Mary’s.

She let Heather get back to rehearsal and said she’d see her later in the cottage. It was time to talk to Mother Francis.

Eve said she had to go down to Healy’s Hotel to have a cup of coffee so that she could get a close up look at Love’s Young Dream, Dorothy and Sean, Great Lovers of Our Time. Mother Francis said she wasn’t to be making a jeer out of them. Everyone was being very restrained, and Eve must be the same.

Hadn’t it turned out better than anyone dared to hope, Mother Francis said sternly, and Eve realized that she must have known or suspected something of the secret Benny had told her, the missing money and the terror of the confrontation.

But if she did, it would never be discussed.

Up in her own cottage, waiting for Heather to come pounding up the convent path, Eve looked around.

There was something different. Not just the way things were placed. Mother Francis came here often. She polished and she dusted. Sometimes she rearranged things. But this was different.

Eve couldn’t think what it was. It was just a feeling that someone else had been there. Staying there, cooking even. Sleeping in her bed. She ran her hand across the range. Nobody had used it. Her bed was made with the neat corners she had learned at school.

Eve shivered. She was becoming fanciful. All those stories about the place being haunted must have got to her. But on a bright April evening this was ridiculous.

She shook herself firmly and started getting the fire going. Heather would need toast within minutes of her arrival.

Later, down in Healy’s Hotel, Eve saw Sean. In his dark manager’s suit.

“Might I be the first to congratulate you?” she said.

“That’s uncommonly gracious of you, Eve.”

Eve inquired politely about when they intended to marry. Was courteously interested in the expansionist plans for the hotel, the honeymoon that would include the Holy City and the Italian lakes, and inquired whether Mrs. Healy was around so that she could express her congratulations and pleasure personally.

“Dorothy is having a rest. She does that in the early evenings,” Sean said, as if he were describing the habits of some long-extinct animal in a museum.

Eve stuffed her hand into her mouth to stop any sound coming out.

“I see you’ve decided to capitalize on your property,” Sean said.

Eve looked at him blankly.

“Let your cottage out to people.”

“No, I haven’t,” she said.

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

She thought he was maneuvering the conversation around to a point where he would ask her to rent it to him or to let it to someone he knew.

A feeling of revulsion rose in her throat. She decided that this must be nipped in the bud. Sean Walsh must be left under no illusion that her home could be let to anyone, not to anyone for money.

“No, I’m sorry for speaking so sharply Sean. It’s just that I never intend to. I’m keeping it for myself and my friends.”

“Your friends. Yes,” he said.

Suddenly he realized who he had seen coming out of Eve’s cottage. It was that blond girl he had seen several times before, most recently getting off the Knockglen bus, on the quays in Dublin.

And the man. Of course he remembered who he was. He was Benny’s boyfriend. The doctor’s son.

So
that
little romance hadn’t lasted long. And there had been precious little said about its being over.

He smiled a slow smile. There was something about it that made Eve feel very uneasy. That was twice this afternoon she had got goose bumps. She must be getting very jumpy. Aidan was right. Eve Malone was a deeply neurotic woman. She felt an overwhelming urge to be away from Sean Walsh and out of his presence.

She jumped up and started to hasten out of the hotel.

“You’ll pass on my good wishes to Mrs. Healy.” She tried to say Dorothy, but somehow the word wouldn’t form in her mouth.

The traffic was bad on the quays. Jack saw Nan but he couldn’t attract her attention. She was leaning against the wall, and looking down into the Liffey. She seemed many miles away.

Eventually by hooting and shouting he managed to make her hear him. She walked threading her way confidently between the parked cars in the traffic jam. He thought again how beautiful she was, and how hard it was to resist these nights with her. However, he would have to resist it tonight. His heart nearly stopped when he realized how near they had been to discovery. In future they would
have to check and double-check that Eve was not going home mid-week.

It was terrifying enough that time they had seen the man with the dogs, the tall thin fellow that Benny hated so much, the one there had been all the fuss over about getting him to leave.