Despite the Angels (46 page)

“I’ll wait for you,” David said gallantly, “in the meanwhile, I’m going to vote for divorce in the referendum and pray that enough other people see the light.”

“Have you any children? What about them, how do they feel?”

“Twin girls, they’re twenty-two. They know why their mother left. They remember being dragged on all those holidays, trip after trip. They’re a bit like me now, happy to stay here. It was Clare who made me take up the dancing, she wants me to meet someone new.”

“Did she? Goodness. Is she not worried that someone new would displace her mother?”

“From what? She has heard twice from her mother in five years. Her mother isn’t a big issue in her life at the moment. She’s looking for a man for herself, but she worries that I’ll be all on my own, if she settles down, like her sister’s going to.”

“I never met anyone with a story like this before,” Carmel was quiet, “I can see how you would vote ‘yes’,” she patted his hand again, “do you know, I think I might vote yes myself, to give you a chance. You deserve it. I had mine, my Con was the best man you could meet, kind and gentle and funny. I never thought I was lucky, just reckoned I got what I deserved. But now I see, I was very lucky, even though he died on me three years ago, the wretch. We had six beautiful children, they look out for me and we have good memories of the old days.”

“The children could vote yes too.”

“And maybe I’ll tell my children about you and we can swing the vote!”

“You’re very kind, Carmel,” David was moved. He guessed what kind of background Carmel had come from and knew what a big gesture she was making on his behalf. If she made it when she got into the booth.

“She’ll stick to her word. We’ll remind her.”

David stood up. He could hear music again from the ballroom. “May I have the honour of this dance, Madame?” Carmel took his arm and smiled up at him. “Delighted, Monsieur! Until I can find you a young one to take my place!”

Lucy swung into the driveway in an elderly baby Fiat, looking forward to showing off to the children and to Martin, that she had managed at last to make them a two car family. She had bought their other car several years earlier, but Martin insisted on using it most of the time, so Lucy was left feeling stranded. And not just feeling, she thought, really stranded more than once. Those business meetings of Martin’s give me the pip, the way they have to come first. But not anymore.

She let herself into the house and shouted “Hi! Anyone here?” A distant mumble came from the kitchen.

“Guess what I’ve got?” said Lucy as she went into the room, where Aisling was sitting at the table doing homework, still in her school uniform. Susan the baby-sitter was sitting at the other end of the table, her head down, working on problems from past exam papers. She never reacted to much.

“Where’s Robbie?” asked Aisling, looking up. She was eating a chocolate biscuit and showering crumbs down her school jumper. Fuzz was under the table, fielding the crumbs and hoping for larger accidents.

“If he didn’t come home from Marge’s, I suppose he’s still there. I came straight home,” said Lucy, “Did you check, Susan?” Susan shrugged.

“No. Ash got here as usual just after I arrived. Robbie didn’t come. I suppose he must be still there.”

“I thought he was with you, like always,” Aisling looked up at Lucy and frowned. “Didn’t you collect him?”

“No, I told him to come home with Marge today, stay there till you’d be home and then ring here for Susan to fetch him. He’s probably still playing with Jamie.” She went to the phone and talked to Marge’s sitter. Her heart began to pound.

“You mean he didn’t come home with Marge? You haven’t seen him at all?” Lucy sat down heavily and looked at Aisling’s wide eyes staring back at her. “Oh God, no. Oh please. Where is he?” She picked up the phone book and se
arched frantically for numbers.

Twenty minutes later, she had found the school closed and unanswering, Marge in a meeting and unable to come to the phone, Robbie’s best friend Greg safely at home and unable to say where Robbie was; his other friend, also at home, was able to tell her that he had seen Robbie waiting outside the school.

“Maybe he walked home. I don’t think he’s got lost, Mrs Fitzgerald, it’s not far enough.”

“No, thank you Marcus, I’m sure he’s not lost. But he’s not allowed to walk home. Did he say anything to you about who was collecting him?” Lucy’s mind whirled through the possibilities. Gradually she became a complete blank, as each phone call achieved nothing and she numbly realised that each hope was vain.

“If we’d a car we could go and search,” said Aisling.

“We have, come on! Please stay here, Susan, in case Robbie comes back,” and Lucy was out the door, Aisling right behind her, full of excitement when she saw the car, - “you bought it just the right day, Mum!”

“If I hadn’t bought it, I’d have been at the school to walk home with Robbie and he wouldn’t have gone off like this,” Lucy cursed herself inwardly. Why had she gone off like that to surprise everyone? It would have been better to tell them, maybe even bring them to fetch it. She was being punished for trying to have fun, trying to make life easier. Oh please, help me find Robbie. Quickly.

“It’s all right, he’s safe. Don’t get in a fuss.”

Lucy reversed carefully out of the drive and considered which way to go first. Up to the school and retrace his steps. No, that didn’t seem right. How did you start a search, when Robbie probably wouldn’t be on the street, but safe inside some as yet unknown friend’s house - I’ll kill the woman who didn’t make him ring home - and if he is hurt somewhere I won’t see him. Lucy’s shoulders started to shake and she put her head down onto her hands where they gripped her new steering wheel.

“Don’t cry, he’ll be home soon,” said Trynor. “Come on, listen. Make yourself feel better, go for a drive, the car is great.”

“Aisling, Robbie is OK, but your Mum isn’t. Be a distraction. Be annoying,” Lekna gave Aisling a poke in the chest.

“Ow! Mum, this seat belt is too tight, it’s cutting into me. Are we going anywhere or just sitting here, ’cos I don’t want to be cut in two for no reason.”

“We’ll go around a bit and see what we see,” said Lucy. “The seatbelt is fine, just ease it out a little.”

An hour later, Lucy was crabby and on the verge of tears. They had driven around the whole area twice, crisscrossing their path several times. They had called to the Garda station and reported Robbie missing; a laconic Guard had taken details but had failed to give any sense of alarm.

“We’ll let the cars know, Ma’am. They’ll be watching out. Did he not go with his father?”

“No, my husband left early this morning to do some business in Athlone.”

The Guard was calm, but not calming. It seemed Robbie was not missing long enough to cause worry and he thought half three in the afternoon was not dangerous. “Let us know, Ma’am, if he doesn’t come home for his tea. They mostly do,” was his encouraging suggestion. They had called back into the house three times to see if Robbie had arrived, but could tell each time by Fuzz’s ecstatic welcome and Susan’s casual “No, not yet,” that there was no good news. They came home again in silence to let Susan go home. Aisling’s grizzling about the discomfort of the whole episode was silenced by the seriousness of a visit to the police station. Once again, Fuzz greeted them, full of joy that her people were home.

“Trouble with you, Fuzz, is that you can’t count. There should be three of us,” said Lucy.

“Four,” said Aisling, “shouldn’t Dad be back? He sometimes is by now.”

“Should he? Even from Athlone? What time is it?”

“It’s nearly half six.” Aisling went over to the television and switched it on. “Let’s see if there’re any accidents on the news, then you can ring the hospital.”

Lucy sat down heavily. It was said that bad news travels fast and no news is good news, but supposing that was wrong and like her Dad said, the world had ended and no-one had remembered to tell her? I never hear anything unless I ask specifically, she thought. I wouldn’t make a reporter, I can’t ferret out gossip. And now I don’t even know where my own boy is. What sort of mother does that make me?

“I’m not going to ring hospitals just yet, I’m going to ring Jen. I need to talk to someone who’ll say something encouraging, not depress me worse.” She reached out to the phone and as she touched the receiver, it shrilled. Lucy grabbed for the phone, but it slipped and fell onto the carpet, where it squeaked “Mum? Mum?”

“Robbie? Where are you? Why didn’t you ring? Are you all right? Where are you?”

“We won, it was great, they were beating us at half time, but then we got a cool try and beat them by 3 points!”

“Who’s ‘we’ Robbie?” Lucy was trying to be calm, now that Robbie was obviously all right. Now he would have to be fetched and reprimanded.

“Old St Christopher’s of course. We were playing Howth College.”

A new anger began to grow in Lucy: “Are you with your Dad?”

“Yes. We’re in O’B s now having a jar. Well Dad is and I’m having a Coke and crisps. Dad sent me to ring you and say we’d be home later.”

“Get Dad to the phone please, Rob.”

“Okay.”  Lucy heard a crash as the receiver at the other end was dropped and then just a distant hubbub. She waited, but no-one came. After a minute or two, the line went dead. Lucy hung up and stared at the phone. Thank God Robbie is okay.

“OK then Aisling, dinner to make.” Lucy was all business. They’d be home soon, explanations and apologies would be given, dinner eaten, normality restored. She got out an onion and started to peel it. She had no idea what dinner would be, but she’d get an idea while chopping.

At half-eight Robbie and Martin still weren’t home. Lucy and Aisling had finished dinner and left enough for microwaving later.  Lucy was having a cup of coffee and trying to read an article in her professional journal, but she couldn’t concentrate. She read the words and each one made perfect sense, but she had no idea what the author was actually saying. It might as well be in Russian, she thought, Cyrillic wouldn’t be any less meaningful. She put the magazine down and looked into her coffee. There must be a reason, he’s met someone who can give business advice, that’s half the point of going to the club, to keep in touch and make new contacts. I haven’t many contacts, not business ones, just Jen and Gina. And the people at work. And Alison. Actually, that’s quite a lot really. And all those people that we know as a couple, but they don’t count in this tally because Martin knows them too and he has loads of friends I never get to see. Which is crazy, because I like going to matches too, but I never seem to get the chance. Could have gone today, though, if I’d known about it; we could all have gone and been a family again. And we could have come home together at a better time for Robbie’s bedtime.  Lucy looked at her watch, it was nine o’clock. She felt so trapped, sitting at home waiting, unable to do anything, until she remembered the car. Her freedom was sitting in the drive waiting for her.

“Aisling, come on, we’re going to Donnybrook to get Robbie.” Aisling grumbled about having to go out again, but complied. She waited in the car on double yellow lines outside O’Bs, to explain to curious policemen or irate motorists that her mother was rescuing her six year old brother from the pub. Inside the pub it was crowded and smoky and Lucy had to push through the groups of men, as she looked for Martin. Eventually she saw Robbie, slumped back on a seat, his eyes shut. Martin was a few yards away, gesticulating excitedly with his friends, but he glanced over at Lucy.

“Hi guys,” Lucy raised her voice to be heard, “I’m taking Robbie home now.”

“Hi Lucy, have a drink, help us celebrate! Ah, come on, what’ll it be?”

“No, Martin, he should be in bed.”

“Don’t ruin the party, sit down.” Martin pushed a hand into Lucy’s chest and she staggered back a pace. Colm, one of Martin’s friends, put out a hand to steady her and Martin came closer.

“You are making a show of me, Lucy. Now have a bloody drink,” Martin spat the words into her ear. She shook her head. Martin took a ten pound note out of his pocket and thrust it at her. “You always say I don’t pay,” he muttered, “so now buy yourself a gin and stop being ridiculous.” He turned away and was soon shouting about the winning try. Lucy reached for Robbie and pulled him up.

“Come on, sausage,” she whispered to him, as she put her arm round his drooping shoulders. Colm made a space for her through the crowd and she smiled at him.

“Thanks. Tell Martin I’ve gone when he stops talking, will you?”

Robbie, when he came out with Lucy, was tired and fractious. He protested several times that it was not his fault.

“Was too. You were meant to come home with Marge after school,” Aisling was smug. It was good not to be in trouble.

“I was waiting for her, but Dad came, and I went with him. But we didn’t come home, we went to the match.”

“You should have come home first and told me, then I could have told Mum. Then I wouldn’t be out again looking for you.”

“That’s enough, Aisling. It’s not Robbie’s fault. I’m sorry for being so cross, Rob. I was just worried.”