The Bright One (26 page)

They were at Luke's house now, so there was no time for Dermot to say more. ‘Cheer up!' he whispered as she opened the door and he followed her in. ‘They won't eat you!'

He pushed past her and stepped into the living room first.

‘Hasn't Breda been telling me your good news?' he said cheerfully. ‘I couldn't but call in and give you both my heartiest congratulations.'

Luke and Molly both rose to their feet as Dermot crossed the room and shook each of them heartily by the hand. They smiled, pleased to see him.

‘Will you be having a glass of something?' Luke asked.

‘Oh no! No, I was on my way to the Harp. Such a long time since I've been there. Perhaps you'd come with me for an hour, Luke – if Molly can spare you, of course?'

‘Why certainly I can,' Molly agreed. ‘Off you go, Luke. 'Twill do you good!'

Breda had not spoken. There had been no need. She had ascertained with a quick glance that there was no broken glass around. There was no sign of the sherry bottle; everything looked back to normal except that on her mother's left ankle there was now a plaster. She felt herself redden when she looked at it.

The two men left quickly, Luke hardly glancing at Breda as he passed her.

‘Come and sit down for a minute,' Molly said to Breda when the men had left.

‘I think I will go to bed,' Breda said.

‘You will not just yet,' Molly said. ‘There are things to be said.'

She indicated the chair opposite her own and, like the child she had been wishing she was, Breda obeyed, and sat down.

She pointed to the plaster on her mother's ankle.

‘I'm sorry for that, Mammy!'

‘It is no matter,' Molly said. ‘It did not go deep, and 'twill heal soon enough. There are other matters which will take more healing. I would rather you were sorry for those.'

Breda opened her mouth to say something but Molly put up a hand to stop her.

‘Wait! I will have my say first, and you had better listen to it before you have yours.

The first thing I want to say is that I fully intend to marry Luke, and that no number of tantrums, no amount of opposition from you will make me change my mind. I know how you feel, and I am
not
putting Luke in Dada's place. Dada will always have his own place in my heart, and Luke will have his place too, though a different one.'

‘It's just that I can't—' Breda began.

‘I haven't finished,' Molly said. ‘The next thing is that while you live in his house I will not countenance your rudeness to him. Do you think he has no feelings? Do you think you are the only one who feels? Then let me tell you, you are wrong! He feels deeply about many things which you have never managed to see. So do I, for that matter, but I am talking about Luke now. I will not ask you to like him – though you could try – but I insist that you treat him properly, and give him the respect he deserves. Is that clear?'

She was trembling with the effort of what she had just said, and from the emotion of what had led up to it. She doubted whether her words had had the slightest effect on Breda, who sat there white-faced and rebellious.

‘Quite clear,' Breda said. ‘Can I go to my room now?'

‘In a minute. I have to tell you that Luke and I plan to be married in a month's time. We see no reason to wait. But you will be breaking my heart – and hurting him – if you will not be there, will not wish us well, will not try to live in harmony.'

It was too much. She broke into tears, then held out her arms to Breda, who went into them.

‘Oh Breda, I couldn't bear to lose your love! I couldn't bear it!'

‘Mammy, I'll always love you! You know that,' Breda said. ‘And I will try to be good. Truly I will!'

She still felt like a child, but now like one in the luxury of being comforted; and then less like a child, because wasn't she comforting her mother? She was a child and a woman all in one, and the woman in her knew it was not going to be easy, and that nothing could be quite the same again.

A little later, she went to bed. Luke was not yet back and Breda had offered to stay with her mother, but Molly refused the offer. It was seldom indeed that Luke went out drinking but, Molly thought, he had had enough to drive a man to it. She was not quite sure how he would be when he came in and, all things considered, it would be better for Breda not to be there.

Lying in bed, Breda also thought about Luke. Why did she not like him? He was always nice to her, when she let him be. He had long ago stopped following her around the shop with his eyes. All that had ceased before they came to live with him, and if his look followed anyone these days it was Molly, though not in any unpleasant way. It was obvious, though Breda hated the thought, that he adored Molly.

Am I jealous, Breda asked herself? But she refused to accept that. It was impossible.

She deliberately put Luke O'Reilly and the whole situation out of her mind, turned over on to her other side, and gave up her thoughts to Rory Nolan. She had been disappointed in him this evening. He had not sprung to her rescue like the knight in shining armour she knew him to be. But, she thought, giving him the benefit of the small seed of doubt in her mind, perhaps that was because Dermot Brady had taken control right from the outset. Rory had had no chance to do anything. Perhaps, being dependent on his uncle, he was a little in awe of him. She had not made any plan to see Rory tomorrow, but she was quite sure he would come into the shop and fix something. Perhaps he would take her to see the film. Or for a walk. It didn't matter what. When would he tell her he loved her, as she did him? Soon, now, she was sure.

On the point of falling asleep she thought she heard Luke come into the house.

‘Where is she?' Luke demanded.

‘Gone to bed this hour past,' Molly answered.

He grunted. She scrutinized him. He was flushed in the face, and she could smell the drink on him, but no more than that. His voice had been harsh when he'd asked about Breda, but was that any wonder? All the same, she was thankful Breda had gone to bed.

‘Did she give you a hard time, then?' he wanted to know.

‘I didn't give her the chance. I told her what was what. It's really not you, you know. It's to do with her Dada. She took it so badly when he died.'

Luke shook his head, not quite believing her. ‘She never really liked me,' he said. ‘I always knew that. Did you tell her we were getting married in a month's time?'

‘I did. And I said nothing would stop us!'

He knelt on the floor beside her armchair and took both her hands in his, covering them with kisses. ‘I wish it was now,' he said. ‘I wish I was taking you to bed this minute!'

For a brief moment, desire stirred in her – and was gone again.

‘It won't be long now,' she said. ‘And don't worry about Breda. She'll come round.'

‘Once you are mine, I will not be giving a toss,' he said.

‘Will I make you some cocoa?' she asked him.

‘No. I have enough liquid on board!'

‘Then I'll be off to my bed.'

His eyes followed her with longing as she left the room. But wasn't he the luckiest man in the whole of Ireland?

The next morning was surprisingly good. The sun shone from the moment dawn broke. Breda rose with the firm intention of being as civil, if not downright nice, to Luke as she possibly could. She saw no solution to the problem of the marriage but she would try, for one day at the very least, to put it out of her mind.

She was pleasant to Luke over breakfast, and was rewarded, as she got up from the table to go to her work in the shop, with her mother's grateful smile. It was a morning also, quite by coincidence, of her favourite customers. The only shadow over it all, as the time went by, was that Rory did not appear, and she had been so sure he would.

But then, she asked herself, did he not have to work? He was not a free agent. Of course he did, she answered herself, but didn't he practically always find a way of calling in, usually when he was on his way to or from delivering a prescription? Weren't there always ways? He had said it himself, more than once.

Had she done anything to offend him? Was he displeased, and blaming her, that his uncle had taken the initiative last evening, and made him stay behind to get on with the stocktaking? Or was he immersed in the stocktaking? In case that was it, she would go along to the pharmacy herself just to say hello. She would not keep him from his work.

At dinnertime she said to Luke, ‘Can I take twenty minutes to go out? I will not spend any time at all on my dinner. Sure, I am not the least bit hungry!'

‘As you wish,' he said. He was not in the mood to deny her. She had been more than reasonable all morning.

Molly tut-tutted when Breda went out instead of coming to the table. ‘'Tis that Rory Nolan, I'll be bound,' she grumbled to Luke. ‘And him not worth missing one mouthful of food over!'

At the pharmacy, Breda stood waiting while Rory finished serving a customer. Dermot was nowhere to be seen. As the customer left and Breda stepped forward, the door behind the counter, which led to the living quarters, opened, and a young woman stepped out. She had golden blonde hair cascading to her shoulders, and a pert, pretty face, with a mouth like a ripe cherry. As if she had not even seen Breda, she spoke to Rory.

‘Rory, me darlin' boy, will you please be coming in for your dinner,' she said persuasively. ‘Or 'twill spoil. 'Twill not be fit to eat!'

There was no mistaking the proprietary air with which she laid her hand on his arm. And on the third finger of her hand she wore a wide gold band, as bright as her hair. But there was more. Her waist was thick, and below that her belly was swollen. She was several months pregnant.

Breda looked at Rory. His face was ashen. ‘I can explain . . . ' he began.

‘You'll get your dinner first!' the young woman said. She turned him around and gave him a playful push through the door.

‘There!' she said, turning to Breda. ‘A firm hand my husband needs, and I have one! Is there something I can be serving you with?'

‘No! Yes! I mean . . . I will take a small packet of aspirins, please!'

‘You don't seem a bit well,' the woman said, looking intently at Breda.

‘I'm . . . It's just . . . ' Breda began.

The woman's gaze met hers head on. ‘I do hope my husband hasn't been a naughty boy!' she said. ‘He's like all men, no worse for watching!'

Breda took a deep breath. ‘Why no!' she said firmly. ‘I hardly know him!'

Afterwards, she couldn't remember how she had got home, whom she had passed, not seeing, on the way. When she reached home, she was sick.

‘'Tis that Rory, I know it!' Molly said. ‘Whatever happened,
alainna
?'

Breda nodded, but she could tell them nothing. The words would not come.

Dermot Brady came around that evening. ‘I had not known that Rory was involved with Breda, or with anyone in Kilbally, or I would have spoken out,' he said. ‘He came to me because he was in trouble in Dublin, just until it blew over. His wife thought he had been away too long, and she was getting big with the baby, so she came after him.'

If you didn't know about Rory and Breda, Molly thought, you must be the only person in Kilbally who didn't. She found it hard to believe.

‘I would like to get my hands on him!' Luke said fiercely.

‘That you cannot do,' Dermot said. ‘They took the afternoon train back to Dublin. But I have no doubt his wife will sort him out!'

It was soon around Kilbally, it took no more than a few hours, that that charmer, Rory Nolan, was after all a married man, and what was more, with his wife expecting, seven months gone. And hadn't she come from Dublin and dragged him back, practically by the hair of his head?

No-one quite knew how the news got out. Dermot said nothing more to his lady customers who enquired after Rory, than that he had returned to Dublin. Luke and Molly kept quiet. As for Breda, she would have died rather than utter a word. Someone, Molly said to Luke in private, must have seen him being borne off to the railway station by a pregnant woman. That was quite enough for Kilbally to make up the rest of the story, which in this case happened to be true.

She was deeply sorry for Breda, who appeared at breakfast with red-rimmed eyes, swollen into mere slits from crying all night. She ate nothing, but sipped at a cup of tea.

‘Would you like me to take your place in the shop today?' Molly asked. ‘I'm sure Luke wouldn't mind. You could take the day off.'

‘No thank you,' Breda said thickly. ‘I have to face it some time. Best do it right away.'

She remembered with what pride she had walked arm in arm with Rory, pleased to be seen by so many friends and acquaintances. What would they have to say now?

‘You are well rid of him,' Molly said. ‘In any case, didn't I know he was not fit to black your boots!'

‘I would rather not talk about him, Mammy,' Breda said. ‘Now or ever.'

Unexpectedly, not a single customer in the shop that day made any mention of Rory, though she knew very well that they noticed her swollen eyes and her out-of-character sad face, for she found it impossible to smile.

‘It was very nice of them,' she said to Molly later. ‘Even Mrs Fitzpatrick kept quiet.'

‘And the Lord knows what an effort that would be,' Molly said. ‘But that's Kilbally for you. They are quick to gossip, but they defend their own against any outsider.'

On the following Wednesday Luke, for the first time ever, took the whole day off to take Molly into Ennis to choose an engagement ring and a wedding ring. Breda was left in charge of the shop for the morning. When the happy couple returned Molly, having moved James's wedding ring to her right hand – which Breda immediately noticed and was deeply hurt by – proudly displayed a ring set with two small diamonds and a garnet.