Despite the Angels (13 page)

“I wasn’t complaining, Kay. I was just asking was that it?”

“There you go again, criticising me when I’ve been slaving all day. I’m fed up of it.”

“Kay, love, I know you’ve been busy. I know you’re in bad form these days. I don’t mean to criticise and I love sausage and mash. You’re doing fine, look how well the girls are doing. And I’ve something interesting to show you, make you feel better.”

“Please David, don’t show her the Rome brochure. Please don’t. Tell her you’re enquiring about Wexford. Rome is too expensive. No, David, no no no.”

David hesitated, but went over to the door to where he had dropped his briefcase when he had come in and smelt burning. He took out the brochure he had got earlier from the travel agent about short breaks on the continent. He looked at it and thought maybe this is overkill, maybe we can get through this some other way. This is silly. Then he heard Kathleen behind him as she laid Caroline down in the pram, saying now go to sleep the pair of you and leave me alone, and he clicked his case shut decisively and turned around with the brochure.

“I went into a travel agent today and got this. We could stretch to three days in Rome, I could miss a Friday maybe, if you think it would help? It should be warmer than here, anyway.”

“Oh, David, what a great idea! Show me.” Kathleen snatched the brochure out of David’s hand and sat back down at the table. “Oh, this looks lovely. Look, Dave, a buffet breakfast with everything on it!”

David looked over her shoulder.

“That’s a four star hotel. We can’t afford that. I was looking at one on the next page,” he turned the page over, “look, bed and breakfast, convenient to the station. Looks nice.”

“Looks ordinary,” said Kathleen, turning the page back and studying the photos of the big hotels. She started to daydream, room service, huge fluffy towels, endless hot water, wonderful meals, deferential waiters, sunshine, the Colosseum, the Vatican .…

“Meet him half way,” said Haliken “any trip to Rome is more than you should afford just now. Don’t push it for luxury too. Bed and breakfast is good, you’re not tied to one hotel for dinner, you can shop around.”

….shopping, drinks at pavement cafés, walks under the stars…

“this isn’t a fortnight on the Riviera. This is three days in March, in a city. Come on Kath, I know you’re not meant to be here and I’m sorry, but don’t make it harder on yourself. Do something realistic. The Sunny South East would be better.”

Kathleen turned the page and looked at the entry about the small hotel near the station.

“At least this would be better than this ghastly Irish weather. I can’t stay here.”

“We do have to come back, you know,” said David.

“But not for a while. It’ll keep me sane, looking forward to it, so I’ll get weeks of value. Well, not too many weeks, I hope, I want to go quite soon. How soon can we go?”

“I have to let the pub know in enough time to find someone to fill in for me. And I can’t go for long, or they’ll find out they can manage without me and then I’m finished. We have to go at a weekend, because of college, but that’s when it’s most awkward for the job.”

“You should be thinking of me, not of them. They’re just a pub. There’s loads of pubs. I need to get out of this place.”

“I’m working on it. But if I don’t have a job to come back to, I can’t afford to stay in college.”

“You can’t afford to go to Rome. I told you. Wexford would be better.”

“So how long will we be away?”

“The basic package is three nights, so out Thursday, home Sunday”

“That’s only two days away! It’s hardly worth going.” Kathleen pushed away from the table and went into the kitchenette, switching off everything and snatching the potato pan up. She drained the potatoes and started mashing them with short hard strokes, throwing in a piece of butter which she cut off the block with the edge of the masher. She served out on two plates, banging the masher against them to dislodge the potato, and then put one plate approximately in front of David and sat back on her own chair with a grunt. Kathleen sat staring at her plate, saying nothing. David got up and fetched cutlery from the drawer.

“We could make it three, if we go on a Wednesday. But I lose more money by not working and miss more at College and have to copy someone’s notes. So the longer I’m away the dearer it is. The flight out is early, so we’d have most of the day there and the flight back is late. So from Thursday it’d be nearly four days. More than half a week.” 

They ate in silence. David was aware only of the crashing of Kathleen’s cutlery and the sharp clack of the salt cellar as she put it back down. Kathleen was aware only of her own over-riding misery.

David gave a small tip to the taxi driver, picked up the bags and struggled up the path to the house, veering awkwardly into the flowerbed as Kathleen’s overstuffed bag won the battle for his balance. The front door was shut. David let the bags drop and stood silently for a moment, wondering. It’s not significant, he thought, read nothing into it. We’re tired after the flight. He rang the bell. After a few minutes when nothing had happened, he rang again, longer. Eventually, the door opened an inch and as he pushed it further he could see Kathleen going back up the stairs. David heaved the bags into the hall, shut the door and hauled himself and the luggage up the stairs to the flat.

“I’ll put on the kettle, shall I?” David asked as he pushed in through the half open door, “then we have to go round to your mum for the girls.”  There was an inaudible mutter from the living room.

“What, love?” said David, as he went into the room.

“I said do what you like and go if you want.”  Kathleen was lying on the couch with her eyes closed and her coat spread over her legs.

“Why don’t you go in to bed if you’re so tired. I’ll bring you in a cup of something and then you can get some rest before the babies get here. I’ll go for them, if it helps.”

“I suppose.” Kathleen put an arm over her eyes and stayed where she was. David went through into the kitchenette and put some water into the kettle. It’s still cold here, he thought. Maybe a hot water bottle’s a good idea. He set off in search.

After a minute or two more on the couch, Kathleen noticed David making noise in the bedroom. She sat up slowly, and swung her feet down. She sat for a moment, curled forward, trying to dispel the despondency that threatened to overtake her. Rome was all right, she thought. But it’s over now. It feels like it’s all over, all over again. She stood up quickly and swayed as the blood drained from her face. She sat down again and put her head between her knees. David came in.

“Kathleen! What’s the matter?” he knelt beside her.

“I don’t know, I feel faint all of a sudden. Maybe I caught a chill.”

“Maybe you did, lying still in this cold room. Come on. We’ll get you into bed. I’m organising a hot water bottle.” David put his arm round Kathleen and gradually she allowed herself to be led into the bedroom.

David let himself out of the house and set off to walk the mile to his mother-in-law’s house. As he walked he found his mood lightening as he anticipated seeing the girls again. He’d missed the softness of them, the beginnings of smiles, their happiness to connect with people without asking anything of them. So much easier than Kay. He pushed the disloyal thought down. Poor Kay, she can’t help it, it’s been tough on her, being ill and all.

“She could help it if she tried,” said Jotin. “Haliken is working on her, trying to get through. It’ll help if you don’t fuss over her too much. Don’t encourage her. Make her care for the twins when you get home. And tell your mum about what happened in Rome, how she behaved. Don’t carry this all alone.”

I’ll talk to Mum, thought David. Get her advice, she’s had babies too, she might understand. She had to look after us alone, too, with Dad being away so much. He had a frisson of guilt as he remembered; I still have to confess to Kathleen that I’ve applied to go on that field trip to Oxford. For two weeks. And I really would like to go and it really would help me, would look good on my C.V., never mind just impressing the Prof. And it will be interesting, seeing the labs there, how they do things.  David rang the doorbell and waited, watching his breath make clouds, filling the porch momentarily with his own microclimate.

“You’re back! Come in quick, before that damp gets in too. The girls are just back, they’ve been visiting,”

“Yes, and you didn’t get him here fast enough, now he’s missed her again.”

“Who, Trynor?” asked Jotin.

“They were taken round the block to meet Mary and Peter, you know, half their garden backs onto ours. Their nieces were visiting, such nice little girls, Lucy and Alison. They came and wheeled the twins round. Much more fun than dolls.”

“How are they? Did they miss me and their mum?” David went through to the back room, which was always kept snug. The babies would be there.

“Did you organise that, you chump?” Jotin looked at Trynor and tried to put on a stern expression. “Didn’t I tell you, the age gap is too big now. And what if Lucy had met Kathleen?”

“What if she had?” said Trynor.

“She could have ended up as Kathleen’s pal, as a useful babysitter in a few years, far sooner than she will be able to meet David on equal terms. That could ruin everything. Keep her away from those babies.”

“But she was meant to be their stepmother and bring them up,” Trynor protested. “How can she do that if she never meets them? As their babysitter at least she’d have some input.”

“Yes, she was, before you fluffed by forgetting to get her born in time. She can’t bring up these babies. And it’s far more important that she gets together with David eventually. If we don’t mess things up again. Now, go and stop her getting run over, or something.”

“Nag nag nag. I’m gone.”

Jotin followed David through into the back room.

David was holding Clare in the crook of one arm and was stroking Caroline with the other hand. A cup of tea stood cooling on the low table beside him.

“Why didn’t Kath come with you?” Mrs Kearney was fussing around, offering cake and tucking in the babies.

“She’s not very well. Nothing in particular, just low.”

“After the travel, I suppose. You should have let us give you the money to stay longer, get more rest.”

“Well, it’s a nice idea, Mrs K, but I don’t think it would have been better. Kay really enjoyed the first day, she came right out of herself, back to how she used to be. The second day she was okay, but by the third day she said Rome was horrible and she couldn’t wait to leave. It was lovely to see her so well on Friday,” he ended lamely. It had been. They had done almost no sight-seeing that day, had stayed in bed all morning, finding out again what the original attraction between them had been. He had had to get up eventually, to go out in search of more condoms. Easier to get in Italy than at home. He had bought a huge supply, but by the next day Kathleen had lost interest again and they were stuffed into his luggage, while he hoped the Customs would not search him and ask embarrassing questions about how many could be for ‘personal use’. They had run the gauntlet safely, he had ignored Kathleen’s suggestion to ‘throw them away, we won’t be needing them’; and they were now waiting to be unpacked into a safe place in the bedroom, tucked away with his hopes. He noticed his father-in-law was speaking.

“Is she depressed? I hear it can happen after a baby.”

“I don’t know. I’ll get her to go to the doctor and see. But she seemed all right on the Friday. No problems at all.”

“She’s not really depressed, David. Nothing that medicines will fix. It’s soul deep. But you work on it from your end, and Haliken will do what he can. He needs to find something to fill the void for her. Don’t you start trying. Your responsibility is to the babies. And eventually to the baby you and Lucy will have, whenever we can get this mess sorted out.”

“It’s a mess,” David said without thinking.

“What do you mean?” asked Mrs Kearney sharply.

“Uh, Kay being unwell and me with exams coming up.”

“But surely you can do the exams again? The babies will only be babies for the one year. They should come first.”

“Oh, they do. But I can’t afford to repeat a year. I’d have to pay for it and a repeat looks bad on your C.V. I have to finish this time.”

“Lot of nonsense, all this book learning,” Kathleen’s father leant back comfortably in his chair and lit his pipe. “I never went to any college, particularly not that Trinity and I got on well. Paid for all this,” he waved the stem of his pipe at the ceiling.

“Yes.” David stood up. “I’d better get going, see how she is. Come on girls!” He turned the pram around and headed out into the dank evening. Kathleen’s mother came running out of the kitchen with a little parcel in tinfoil which she tucked into the pram.

“Cake, for Kath. Cheer her up. Bye now. Bye little darlings, be good girls.” She kissed the babies and went back in to the warmth.

David brought his coffee out to the back step and sat down carefully, lifting his face to the low rays of the dying sun. He rested his head back against the wall and allowed the warm light to wash over him, as he took a huge breath and let it out in a rush. He imagined all the bad stale thoughts he’d been having all day rushing out and smiled slightly as he thought of the effect on his struggling garden. Maybe he would wilt the purple sprouting broccoli. A little hand stroked his face.