The Bright Side (36 page)

The fear turned to relief. “Really?
”

“Of course. Why would I want my children hating their dad? Never mind what he’s done to me. He’s still your father, like you said.
”

That middle bit stuck in my throat a little. But I got it out. Practice makes perfect
.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Robert said. “I could kill him.” “I know. Please don’t.
”

He laughed, briefly. It was a sound I hadn’t heard in a long while – the non-sarcastic version anyway. “Anyway – what about you? You said you’re not feeling the Mae West. Did something happen? I mean … something else?
”

I shook my head. “No. Nothing specific. I just . . . I don’t know. I thought it would be nice to see you.
”

“Christ,” he said. “Now I feel all pressurised.
”

“Don’t worry, Robert. I’m not expecting you to make it all go away.
”

“Phew! Probably just as well.
”

I began to smile, then aborted the move, replacing it with a deep sigh. “I haven’t slept a wink since,” I said
.

“No shit,” Robert replied. “Sure how could you with all this going on?
”

The best course of action, I quickly decided, was not to backtrack over the lie, but to fully embrace it and run like hell. “Yeah. As soon as my head hits the pillow, my mind starts racing, you know?
”

“I bet.
”

“I start wondering …” At that point, I hit a spot of trouble. I’d launched into a sentence for which I had no ending
.

“What?” Robert said softly. His tone was so sympathetic that I almost cracked and told him I’d been sleeping perfectly well and had just had a pleasant day at the zoo where his aunt and I had almost
hugged
. Instead, I closed my eyes and allowed my head to droop. As I struggled to think of a way to elaborate on my deception without making myself sick, Robert reached across the table and placed his hand over mine
.

“It’ll be all right,” he said in a voice that was so much like his father’s that I lost my breath. Before I knew what was what, I felt tears streaming down my face
.

“Come on, Mum,” Robert whispered. “Don’t cry. Everyone will think it was something
I
said.
”

I smiled through my silent sobs for a moment and then made a serious effort to get myself under control. When I had achieved a small degree of stability, I looked up and saw that Robert was on the edge of tears himself. That did it; I took a deep breath and cleared my throat. Equilibrium was soon restored
.

“I’m sorry,” I said sincerely, dabbing my eyes with a napkin
.

“Don’t worry about it.
”

“I didn’t drag you out here to give you a sob story.” Another lie: that was exactly what I had meant to do
.

“You didn’t drag me anywhere,” he said. “I wanted to come.
”

I withdrew my hand and placed it on top of his. “Thanks, son.
”

“What for? I didn’t do anything.
”

Just then, the nearer of the two women at the bar slid off her stool and began to slowly step towards us. I noticed before Robert did and looked up at her expectantly
.

“Excuse me,” she said, slurring slightly, as he turned to see what had caught my eye. “I don’t want to be a pain in the arse … but are you Valentine Reilly out of
The
O’Mahonys
?
”

“That’s me,” Robert said and stuck out his hand
.

The woman shook it for what seemed like several minutes
.

“I can’t think of your real name,” she said when she finally relinquished her grip. “It’s driving me mental.
”

“Will I give you the initials?” Robert teased. He was good at this, I thought. Slick
.

“Go on,” the woman said, enjoying herself immensely. “R O’C.
”

“R O’C … O’Connell! Something O’Connell, that’s right.” She turned to her pal at the bar, who, for some reason, had been pretending she wasn’t even watching. “Maggie! It’s something O’Connell! Begins with an R!
”

“
Robert!
” Maggie cried instantly, pointing at my son as if he might not have been sure himself
.

Robert clapped. “Correct. Congratulations.
”

“It was on the tip of my tongue,” the woman said. “C’mere, we were just finishing up – would you ever do us a photo before we go?
”

“Sure,” Robert said
.

For
the
first
time,
the
woman
acknowledged
my
existence.
“Maybe
you’d
take
it
for
us,”
she
said.
“Don’t
worry,
we’re
not
going
to
steal
him
away
from
you.” “You
couldn’t
if
you
tried,”
I
said.
“I’m
his
mother
.
”

I expected her to say what practically everyone said in this situation (or the corresponding one with Chrissy), which was “You don’t look old enough.” But she didn’t say that. She said – with an air of considerable satisfaction – “Ahhh! I was wondering …
”

Robert suppressed a grin as she withdrew her mobile phone and switched the camera on
.

“You just press the middle button,” she said cheerfully as I snatched it from her hand
.

“
Thanks
.”

Maggie hopped off her bar-stool and the three of them arranged themselves in a tight bunch. Both women put their arms around Robert. Most of the pub was watching proceedings by now. I felt slightly embarrassed and took the photo quickly – too quickly for Maggie’s liking
.

“Aw!” she said. “You barely looked! Do one more.” “Two,” her friend added. “Just to be sure.
”

I took the shots and handed back the phone
.

“Thanks,” the women said. They spoke as one; each addressed her gratitude to Robert
.

“Any
time,”
he
said.
“Will
you
be
watching
tonight?”
“Definitely,”
      
they
      
said,
      
once
      
again
      
speaking
simultaneously
.

And then, amid a flurry of handshakes and cheek-pecks and compliments, they were gone
.

“Sorry
about
that,”
Robert
said
as
we
retook
our
seats. I’d
found
the
two
women
–
or
more
correctly,
their
obvious
lusting
over
my
child
–
quite
annoying.
But
there was
an
upside
to
their
intrusion,
I
now
realised:
way
ahead
of schedule,
I
could
stop
pretending
to
be
more
miserable
than I
was,
while
still
giving
Robert
credit
for
the
improvement
.

“Don’t
apologise,”
I
said.
“I’ve
never
seen
that
happen before.
It
was
…
cool.
I
keep
forgetting
that
you’re
famous.” “Well,
now,
I’m
hardly
famous
famous.
It’s
not
like
I
can’t
walk
the
streets.
”

“Won’t be long though. Wait’ll you see.
”

He tried not to show that he was tickled by the idea. I was reminded of the time when he was eleven or twelve and my mother pointed out that he was turning into “a little heartbreaker”. He was too young for girls then and made a big deal of slapping the compliment away. But he’d been unable to keep his mouth straight. The same difficulty plagued him now
.

“Will I get you another glass of wine?” I asked, just to change the subject and put him out of his misery
.

“I’ll
get
it,”
he
said,
jumping
to
his
feet.
“Another
water?” “I’ll
have
a
Diet
Coke
this
time,”
I
said.
“Might
as
well
go
mad.
”

He nodded and went to the bar
.

We
took
our
time
over
that
second
round,
and
over
the
third
as
well.
Robert
did
almost
all
of
the
talking
–
out
of
nerves,
I
suspected.
Like
his
Aunt
Melissa,
he
wasn’t
used
to
being
alone
with
me.
I
listened
intently
as
he
trotted
out
one
harmless
anecdote
after
another
(most
of
them
featuring
various
nutter
neighbours
in
his
apartment
block),
smiling
and
frowning
when
appropriate.
When
we
realised
that
we’d
been
sitting
there
for
an
hour
and
would
miss
The
O’Mahonys
if
we
didn’t
leave
soon,
I
offered
him
a
lift.
He
declined,
but
he
did
so
politely,
pointing
out
–
ha-ha
–
that
he
just
wanted
some
air
and
wasn’t
trying
to
get
away
from
me
or
anything.
We
said
goodbye
on
the
pavement
and
briefly
hugged.
I
thanked
him
for
cheering
me
up,
a
statement
that
only
felt
like
half
a
lie
.