Second Hand Jane (35 page)

“I said when I
need to.” His face was illuminated by the hall light shining into
the room as he grinned down at her. “You’re not planning on hiding
her away from me, are you?”

The thought had
crossed her mind, yes, but she could see the question behind his
eyes.

“It’s nothing
to do with you. It’s Mum—the way she is—but you’re not going to
take my word for it, are you?” How could she explain to him that
the whole reason her mother was hot-footing it over to Dublin was
to try to steer her away from him and in the direction of the dodgy
developer with distemper? Okay, so she hadn’t told her what had
happened with Nick yet but even if she did, it would make no
difference. She was coming to Dublin and there was no way she would
ever warm to the idea of her daughter hooking up with a pig farmer
with, as she saw it, a “past.”

“No, I’m not,
so how about you bring her up to the farm on Saturday? She can meet
Wilbur. If I don’t win her over then, he will if she’s anything
like her daughter.”

The idea filled
Jess with horror and as Owen carried on, the horror deepened.

“You could stay
the night or just come for the day? It’s up to you.” He winked at
her then. “Of course, if you stay the night then I’ll get to have
my wicked way with you again.”

Jess looked at
Owen, aghast. She didn’t know which idea was worse: that of her
mother staying on a pig farm or actually having sex while her
mother was in the same house? Either scenario was a complete
nightmare but she couldn’t see a way out of it without hurting
Owen’s feelings. That was something she wasn’t prepared to do for
anyone and especially not for her mother. Besides, the thought of
not seeing him for a whole fortnight while she played hostess with
the mostest was unthinkable. Nope, there was nothing for it; she’d
just have to buy her mother a set of wellies and tell her to
soldier on.

The plan began
to form. She’d ask Brianna nicely if she could borrow her car
again—that way they could just go up for the day. Mum might just be
able to behave herself for six hours but throw in a night as well?
Jess shuddered; she knew that would just be asking for trouble. Who
knew, though? If the opportunity presented itself, she might get to
whisk Owen away for some alone time in the barn. Wilbur’s sweet
little face flitted to mind—he’d just have to shut his eyes and
cover his ears.

They’d drifted
off to sleep not long after that conversation and the next morning
Jess had spooned into his warm and solid body, revelling in the
fact that he was there and not part of a dream from which she would
wake. The discarded pizza box on the floor further cemented the
reality of the previous evening, as did the odour it was emitting.
Owen was still out for the count, so she’d taken advantage by
sitting up and watching him while he slept. God, he was beautiful;
her eyes drifted over his broad strong features, his wide mouth.
She giggled as he let out a little snore, waking him up, and he’d
opened his eyes. As his gaze focused, he smiled lazily before
grabbing her.

“What’s so
funny?”

“You—you were
snoring.”

“I don’t
snore.”

“Oh yes you
do.”

He’d silenced
the argument with a kiss and then their day had started off with a
bang, literally. After showering and a quick breakfast, Owen
announced reluctantly that he had to get back to Glenariff for the
animals. Jess didn’t want him to go but she didn’t want him leaving
Wilbur unattended either. It was probably a good thing, she mused,
watching him tie his boots. She really did have to get this week’s
column written because she was going to be busy with her mother
from Tuesday night onwards.

Wrapping her in
a big hug and kissing the top of her head, Owen promised to ring
her that evening. Neither of them knew what the next step for them
would be. It was something they were going to have to wing as
Ballymcguinness was not just around the corner. Nor was there any
chance of Owen upping sticks and moving to Dublin, but she was
getting ahead of herself as usual, Jess had told herself. She had
to get through this Saturday with her mother first.

Her apartment
had felt bereft without Owen’s big presence filling it and she’d
drifted around aimlessly, trying to settle down to do some work but
ultimately when Brianna phoned, she was grateful for the
distraction.

She was abuzz
with the news that Bray Council, over the course of the weekend,
had come around to her way of thinking. They’d pulled out of the
deal Nick had been trying to negotiate. His company was not going
to be allowed to proceed with any development on the site. The sale
was null and void, and Brianna was over the moon. “It’s karma for
how he treated you the other night,” she’d stated gleefully. “See,
Jess, I might not know shite about shite but I do know right from
wrong!”

“
Have you been watching
Erin Brockovich
again?” It was Brianna’s
all-time favourite film.

“Yeah, that
movie always makes me feel so empowered and that is exactly how I
feel at the moment—like I took on the big boys and I won.”

“That’s exactly
what you did do and I for one am very proud of you for holding firm
to what you believe. Well done, Brie.”

“Thanks.” Her
jubilance disappeared. “Hey, Jess, there’s no hard feelings, I
hope, where Nick is concerned, is there? You did mean what you said
yesterday, didn’t you?”

“I meant every
word and I am glad he is not getting his own way. You were right
about communities needing a place where people can go to get
together. That’s not something Nick can relate to; his world is
ruled by the almighty dollar, not people.”

“Euro
actually.”

“Euro, pound,
punt—whatever! Anyway, enough about him. Owen stayed last
night.”

Brianna
shrieked down the phone. “Oh my God, you didn’t waste any time. I
thought it was coffee he was coming over for, not sex? Details,
please!”

Nora had rung
on her lunch break and between stuffing down a sandwich—the Dukan
diet was a distant memory—she, too, demanded the details. “I have
to live vicariously through your sex life until Ewan gets back on
Monday, so come on, spill!”

She listened to
her friend gush and in her guilt for pushing Jess toward Nick, she
resolved to be open-minded where Owen was concerned. He might be a
pig farmer from Northern Ireland with a family tragedy lurking in
his past but on this occasion she was prepared to trust Jess’s
judgement and give him the benefit of the doubt. “You know, from
what you have just told me, I think that this is one man who you
might just have helped heal.”

“He said he
feels like he can put the past where it belongs now—in the past. I
just hope Mum’s prepared to be as magnanimous as you because he has
invited us to the farm on Saturday.”

“Wow! He does
mean business. Your mam will be impressed by that; I mean, he’s
obviously serious.”

“Yeah,
seriously mad inviting her up. He has no idea what he’s in
for.”

“Give your mam
a bit of credit. I am sure that once she meets him, she will see
exactly what you see in him.”

“You reckon? I
think all she will see is a pig farmer with a thick accent.”

Nora tried to
cover her laugh and it came out as a snort. “Sorry, it’s just that
it is not the most salubrious of job titles.” Her tone grew sage.
“Like I just said, Jess, I reckon it’s time you cut your mammy a
bit of slack.”

“You are
forgetting I know her—you don’t.”

“Fair play to
you, I suppose.”

They’d changed
the subject then, with Nora informing her that Ewan had been really
pissed about Nick’s behaviour and wouldn’t be hanging out with him
again anytime soon. “He reckoned Nick just liked being seen out
with him because it was good for his public profile—a spot of free
publicity, so to speak. In Ewan’s line of business, you learn fast
who your real friends are.”

“Yes, I suppose
you do.”

Owen kept his
word, ringing just after nine that evening. Her mother had been
banished from her brain as she had lost herself in his sing-song
accent while he gave her Wilbur’s health report before filling her
in on his day.

Jess blinked, coming back to the present
as the doors in front of her finally slid open to disperse the
first load of weary travellers. They trickled forth in a steady
flow and she scanned their crumpled faces one after the other in
anticipation of the familiar one she was expecting. As they came
and went with no sign of her mother, she experienced a twinge of
anxiety. Where was she? If she hadn’t seen the Cheap-Cheap plane
land with her own two eyes, she might have fretted that its engines
had given up the ghost somewhere over the Atlantic. But it
had
landed, which could only mean
her mother had been delayed by Customs.

Oh no! Surely
Mum wouldn’t have attempted to smuggle in her homemade Yo-Yo
biscuits, knowing they were her favourites? She wouldn’t put it
past her to try. Jess chewed on her thumbnail, unsure of what to do
next.

As she began
envisaging the wrestling match between her mother and a surly
customs officer over a tin of biscuits, the doors opened once more
and released a frazzled and none-too-happy-looking passenger—Marian
Baré.

“Mum!” Jess
stepped forward to greet her, taking in her dishevelled appearance
as she did so with shock. Her normally coiffed auburn curls were
limp and hung in straggles around her face. Her makeup was
non-existent, aside from the black smudges under her eyes, giving
her face a zombie-like quality, and her clothes, which would have
been immaculate when she left Auckland two days ago, were now
stained and crushed. Something was missing, too, she thought as
Marian sagged into her arms. Taking a step back from the embrace
and holding her at arm’s length to steady her, Jess realised what
was wrong. She had no bags with her.

“Where’s your
luggage, Mum?”

“My suitcase is
in Taiwan. That means I have no clothes, no makeup, and no hair
rollers!”

The latter,
Jessica knew, for her mother was a true tragedy indeed to have to
bear.

“Calm down,
Mum; we’ll sort it out. They do have shops in Dublin, so if your
case isn’t here by tomorrow, I’ll pop out and get you a few
necessities. In the meantime, you can borrow anything you need from
me. I don’t understand, though; what the hell is your luggage doing
in Taiwan?”

“They forgot to
load it on the bloody plane, didn’t they, but I have given the
airline your address and been assured it will be couriered there by
tomorrow afternoon at the latest. I blame your father, Jessica. If
it wasn’t for his insisting I fly budget now that I am officially
retired and we are a one-income family… It’s all part of his new
belt-tightening regime. I have a good mind to phone him when we get
back to your place to tell him that unless he books me a return
flight with Air New Zealand, I am not coming home. I refuse to put
myself through that…that journey from hell again!”

Jess’s eyes
widened. If it came to that, she’d bloody well foot the bill for
the new booking.

“It’s true, you
know, that saying that you get what you pay for. In the last
forty-eight hours, I have been to Taiwan, Bangladesh, and touched
down in most of the states belonging to the former USSR. I have had
a small child throw up in my lap, and I have sat next to a woman
for the last ten hours of my journey with Tourette’s syndrome and a
fear of flying—can you imagine?”

Jess burst out
laughing at the picture her mother had just painted.

Marian looked
aghast. “It’s not funny, Jessica. We didn’t even get any in-flight
perks. Not so much as a cup of coffee.” She stared hard at her
daughter and then her own mouth twitched and she, too, had to
laugh.

“Come on,
Mum—put it behind you. You’re here now, so let’s get you home for a
cup of tea and a hot shower. You look like you could do with one.”
She started laughing again and then, linking her arm through her
mother’s, she led her outside of the terminal building to the
waiting taxi rank. Perhaps the next fortnight mightn’t be so bad
after all.

“Welcome to
Ireland, Mum.”

True to her
word, the first thing Marian had done upon stepping inside Jess’s
apartment was insist on phoning Frank. Once she’d made her call,
she had found herself being herded off to the shower and now
freshly scrubbed and smelling sweet, she lay prone on the couch,
waiting for Jessica to finish making her a cuppa.

“I appreciate
the loan, darling, but these pyjama bottoms are too tight.”

“You’ll be
fine, Mum; just don’t bend over.” Jess handed her a steaming mug.
“It’s hot, so be careful. Do you feel better after giving Dad
what-for and having had a hot shower?”

“Hmm, yes,
thanks. Both were very cathartic.” She blew on her tea and then
took a tentative sip before resting her head back on the settee. “I
must say, you have this place looking lovely. It’s a proper home.
Well done, sweetheart.”

Jess stood a
little taller; she was pleased. She hadn’t been sure what her
mother would make of apartment living but then she went and spoilt
it.

“Yes, I can
definitely see the benefits of living in a complex like this when
you’re single. Much more secure but of course it would be no good
for a family.”

Right, Jess
thought; it was time to burst her mother’s bubble. “Actually, Mum
there’s something I need to tell you.”

“Oh my God,
you’re not pregnant, are you?”

“Oh, for
goodness’ sake!”

“Sorry, dear,
it’s just a conclusion most mothers jump to when their daughters
utter those words.”

“Well, I am not
pregnant. What it is…is that well, what’s happened is…”