Stand by Me (10 page)

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Authors: Sheila O'Flanagan

Tags: #Fiction, #General

BOOK: Stand by Me
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‘Ah, don’t be worrying about it,’ he joked when she told him he was morphing into a true culchie before her very eyes. ‘You’ll soon pick it up, my little Dublin jackeen.’
 
Greg Delahaye was six years younger than his brother. He was more reserved than Brendan, but nevertheless he gave Dominique a welcoming hug and told her that they’d heard a lot about her and he was delighted to finally meet her. Dominique felt herself really relax for the first time since she’d discovered she was pregnant, as the two brothers chatted on the drive to the bungalow in the small coastal town of Castlecannon where the family had lived for generations. Greg reminded her of Gabriel, but without her brother’s quiet assurance. He was a gentle sort of man, who tried to draw her into their conversation, although since much of it revolved around the fate of the Cork County Gaelic football and hurling teams, she wasn’t able to add any words of wisdom. Nevertheless, she made a few jokes about culchie games, which made Greg laugh and Brendan say that he’d eventually convert her. Despite the light-hearted chat in the car, though, she tensed up again when they arrived at the house and clutched her overnight bag tentatively while she waited for Brendan to open the front door.
 
She followed Brendan and Greg into a wide hallway, which led into a large, bright living room bathed in sunlight that poured through a long picture window with a view towards the sea. The upper halves of the walls were rag-rolled in a pale orange paint, which reflected the light, while the lower halves were covered in mauve wallpaper. A wide border ran around the middle of the walls, dividing the two colour schemes. The carpet was orange with swirls of mauve and the curtains were mauve with orange flecks. There was a large painting of a sailing boat over the mantelpiece, while the other walls were hung with family photographs. It was very, very different to the pale floral wallpaper and grey twist carpet of the house in Drimnagh.
 
‘You must be Domino, lovely to see you.’ The woman who’d been sitting on the mauve sofa, a magazine in her hand, stood up. She was tall, and was wearing a red and white shell suit and white trainers. Her fair hair was cut in a bubble perm and her glasses, although the frames were blue, were similar to Dominique’s own.
 
‘Mrs Delahaye?’ she said doubtfully.
 
‘Lily,’ said the other woman. ‘Mrs Delahaye makes me feel ancient.’
 
Dominique knew that Brendan’s mother was a few years older than her own, but she never would have guessed it. Although Lily Delahaye’s face had more lines than Evelyn’s, her easy smile and made-up face made her seem younger.
 
‘And this is Maurice,’ she said, indicating the man who had just walked into the room through another door. ‘Brendan’s dad.’
 
Maurice Delahaye was an older version of his son. He had the same strong build, the same curly hair and the same blue eyes. His face was more weathered than Brendan’s and his hair was streaked with grey, but they were very clearly father and son. Looking at them side by side as Brendan hugged his father, Dominique suddenly felt connected to both of them through the baby she was carrying. She imagined her child running along the beach with them; pictured them sitting on the rocks together or walking along the road side by side.
 
‘Pleased to meet you.’ Maurice held his hand out to her and she grasped it.
 
‘June and Barry will be coming for dinner later,’ said Lily. ‘Roy’s out on the boat but he’ll be back soon.’
 
Dominique knew that June was Brendan’s sister, younger than him by a couple of years, and that Barry was her husband. Roy, the youngest in the family, was, at eighteen, just a few months younger than Dominique herself.
 
‘You’ll probably want to put your things away and freshen up,’ said Lily. ‘Brendan, we’ve put the two of you in the guest room. Your old one is too small and it’s a bit late for you to be in separate rooms, isn’t it?’
 
Dominique felt herself blush, but Brendan laughed and his mother winked.
 
‘A bit of a wash-up would be good,’ said Brendan. ‘And I’m looking forward to some home cooking.’
 
‘Get away with you.’ Lily grinned at him. ‘That’s all I’m good for as far as you’re concerned. Filling you with food.’
 
‘The way to a man’s heart,’ said Brendan.
 
‘Something you’ll need to remember, pet,’ Lily told Dominique. ‘He’s a ferocious eater. Loves his spuds. Likes them well mashed with a knob of butter and a decent sprinkling of salt and pepper.’
 
‘Right.’ Dominique was a little overwhelmed by the information. She didn’t cook very much at home, and Evelyn never encouraged her. Evelyn herself - although she wouldn’t admit it - wasn’t great in the kitchen. Her mashed potatoes were always lumpy.
 
‘Come on then.’ Brendan put his arm around Dominique and steered her out of the living room. ‘Let’s go upstairs.’
 
 
They made love before dinner, even though Dominique was terrified that someone would hear them.
 
‘But that’s half the excitement,’ said Brendan as he propped himself up on his elbows above her. ‘And the other half is knowing that you’re the loveliest girl in the whole world.’
 
It was the only time she’d ever felt uncomfortable making love to him, although hearing him say that she was the loveliest girl in the world made her melt inside. Afterwards she changed into a prim navy-blue dress with white piping on the collar and high-heeled shoes, while Brendan watched her in amusement.
 
‘Where on earth did you get that outfit?’ he asked.
 
‘Don’t you like it?’ She looked anxious.
 
‘It’s very nice,’ he said. ‘So not you, though.’
 
‘I can’t wear miniskirts and stuff for dinner with your mother,’ said Dominique.
 
Brendan guffawed. ‘She wouldn’t mind. Really. She’s not into fashion. She’s a sporty kind of woman herself, as you probably noticed. She’s the manager of the under-sevens football team.’
 
‘All the same,’ Dominique smoothed the bodice of the dress, ‘I want her to know that I’m a respectable girl and that I can look nice.’
 
Brendan guffawed again and Dominique blushed.
 
He hugged her. ‘You look absolutely lovely,’ he assured her. ‘No matter what you wear.’
 
‘Thanks,’ she said, and he kissed her on the nape of her neck.
 
 
She’d heard people arriving as she’d been brushing the blue eye shadow on to her lids, and so she wasn’t surprised to see June and her husband in the living room when they came down. She was surprised, however, to see that June was also pregnant, although given the size of her bump, she was a lot closer to having her baby.
 
‘It’s due next month,’ said June after she’d said hello. ‘And the sooner the bloody better. I hate being pregnant. It’s terrible.’
 
‘I don’t mind it,’ confessed Dominique. ‘I feel fine and my skin has improved no end.’
 
‘Lucky you.’ June eased herself on to a chair. ‘But don’t count your chickens yet. Wait until you’re my size. It’s the piles that get you.’
 
‘June!’ Brendan, Barry and Lily all spoke at the same time. ‘Spare us the disgusting details,’ added Barry. ‘I know I get to hear them - to live them, even - but nobody else should have to suffer.’
 
‘Domino needs to know,’ said June. ‘No point in her thinking it’s all a bed of roses.’
 
‘I don’t think that,’ said Dominique.
 
‘I did.’ June’s voice was grim. ‘Not a bloody bother on me for the first three months, even though everyone says that’s when you’re sickest. But since then - nothing but trouble.’
 
‘It’s nearly over now, darling,’ Lily told her comfortingly. ‘And you’ll have a lovely baby at the end of it.’
 
‘Huh.’ June didn’t look mollified. ‘I hope he or she is suitably grateful.’
 
‘None of your children are ever grateful,’ said Lily. ‘Now come on, let’s go into the dining room. Roy!’ She raised her voice. ‘Get yourself down here now.’
 
 
There couldn’t have been a bigger contrast than that between the Bradys and the Delahayes, thought Dominique. Maurice, Lily and their children talked incessantly, arguing and interrupting each other constantly throughout the meal. They’d tucked in without saying grace, too, which rather shocked her even though she knew it shouldn’t. After all, nobody in American Burger ever said grace before attacking their hundred per cent pure beef meal. But at home, around the dinner table, Dominique was accustomed to saying grace. And it felt wrong to start eating without it. So she’d hesitated for a split second while everyone else started, muttering it quickly and silently to herself, and only then helping herself to vegetables from the big tureen in the centre of the table.
 
The food was great, and Dominique couldn’t understand why the Delahayes talked instead of eating. She concentrated on her plate and on listening to the conversation rather than getting too involved herself, while Brendan and Maurice discussed how busy the nearby port town of Ringaskiddy was becoming (Maurice had worked at the ferry terminal since the 1970s), and Lily and June talked about June’s recent decoration of the nursery at her house near Cork city. Later, Roy, Brendan, Maurice and Barry argued over Cork’s chances of winning another all-Ireland hurling medal, with Greg interjecting from time to time to keep the peace.
 
‘You’re very quiet, pet,’ said Lily to Dominique when there was a brief lull in the conversation. ‘Are you all right? Would you like some more food?’
 
‘Oh, gosh, no thanks, Mrs Delahaye,’ said Dominique. ‘I’ll explode if I eat any more.’
 
‘I hope not. There’s still apple pie. And you’ve got to call me Lily.’
 
‘Of course. Lily.’ Dominique felt shy about using the other woman’s name. ‘And just a sliver of apple pie for me. I’m sure it’s gorgeous but I really am stuffed.’
 
Lily nodded, although her idea of a sliver and Dominique’s differed greatly. But the apple pie was as delicious as the roast beef had been earlier.
 
After dinner they sat around and chatted with the TV on in the background. Lily said that they were looking forward to the wedding and to meeting Seamus and Evelyn, and Dominique smiled tightly and replied that she was sure her parents couldn’t wait to meet them either. ‘Although,’ she added, feeling that she owed it to the Delahayes to be perfectly honest with them, ‘my parents aren’t at all happy about me and Brendan.’
 
Beside her, Brendan frowned. ‘I thought they were fine about it,’ he said. ‘I thought that us getting married meant everything was OK.’
 
‘To a point,’ agreed Dominique. ‘But my mam thinks we were wrong to . . . well, you know. And she finds it hard to forgive me.’
 
‘She’ll be grand after the baby is born,’ Lily assured her. ‘And lookit, child, we weren’t exactly delighted ourselves. But the truth is that our lump of a son should be married by now and so we’re glad you’re going to take him on.’ She grinned widely and winked at Dominique. ‘And if you need any advice, or if he annoys you in any way, you only have to give me a shout and I’ll knock some manners into him.’
 
Dominique laughed. She loved the Delahayes. She loved Brendan. She loved her life.
 
Chapter 5
 
It was a small wedding.
 
As Dominique walked up the aisle of the church on her father’s arm and saw Brendan at the altar waiting for her, she was filled with a sense of purpose. This was her dream and her ambition, after all. This was what she’d always wanted. To be with someone who loved her and thought she was the most important person in the world. She felt lucky to have found him.
 
The reception was being held in the Green Isle Hotel on the Naas Road, which was also where the Delahaye family were staying. Dominique had been a little concerned about all of them being in the same hotel, but Brendan had laughed and told her not to worry; his family would be up all night partying, he assured her, whereas they would be leaving them to it and continuing their own party action in their room.
 
He was right, of course. The Delahayes had a great time at the reception. Greg, as the best man, was heckled occasionally during his speech, and they all whooped and cheered when Brendan got up and uttered the words ‘my wife and I’, which made Dominique flush with pride and pleasure.
 
‘Honestly,’ muttered Evelyn under her breath to Seamus, ‘you’d think this was all a great laugh instead of a shotgun wedding because our daughter, who should have known better, shamed herself and us in front of everyone.’

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