‘It’s so hard to explain. It doesn’t mean that people want to believe all of it, it’s just a nice tradition.’
‘But it’s a real thing, you know, baptism opening the floodgates of grace.’
‘I thought you believed Protestant baptisms didn’t count,’ Elizabeth laughed.
‘They do and they don’t. They do if you can’t have the real thing, though maybe in your case you have a duty to get her the real thing. After all you were brought up in the Catholic faith by me for five years.’
‘I know, and it terrified me to death.’
‘So this is only a social affair, is it?’
‘Social and ceremony really. Ceremony and tradition – I think that sums it up.’
‘Right. What kind of eats will we serve for ceremony and tradition? Roast beef of Olde England?’
‘No, you idiot. Elegant hors d’oeuvres, things that can be eaten in one hand while champagne is clenched in the other.’
‘Who will be there?’
‘Most of the wedding crowd.’
‘Will Harry come?’
‘Certainly he will, I’m not going to put up with a lot of old-womanish nonsense from Henry and Father. Certainly he’ll come. He can stay at Stefan’s if that makes everyone feel better. No, he can’t, he can stay here like he did the last time. And I won’t have Father being brave about it, and noble.’
‘You are marvellous Elizabeth … I wish there were somebody in Kilgarret who would smooth my path home like you smooth Harry’s.’
‘I’ve told you a dozen times … there’s nobody keeping you away from Kilgarret except yourself.’
‘So you say. Now let’s think about food. Will we do it ourselves and say we got caterers?’
‘Or shall we get caterers and say we did it ourselves?’
Dear Aisling,
I know, I know, I’m the one that didn’t write to you. But I didn’t know what to say. Apparently even Eamonn sent you a birthday card. I didn’t know. I thought you were in disgrace. Anyway it turns out that you write more letters than St Paul. So I’m sorry, I’ve been away so much and so involved in other things that people didn’t tell me things. Eamonn knows nothing. Donal’s like a lovesick calf, Maureen spends her whole time giving out to me for even existing so she’s not any help, Mam always thinks of you as her pet and she won’t talk about you at all.
Anyway, I didn’t write to apologise or to whinge and whine, I wrote because I think Mam looks awful. Nobody else will tell you that in their letters because they don’t notice. I only come home now and then so I’ve seen an awful change in her. She’s got very thin, and looks kind of sallow. She doesn’t eat much and sometimes sits down suddenly as if she had a pain. I may be exaggerating it, but I suddenly thought last night if it was me that upped and left and nobody told me that Mam was looking badly, I’d feel very cross.
I don’t know what to say about the whole other thing, I really don’t. I suppose it’s like when a love affair ends only worse because there’s all the fuss and bother. Don’t tell Mam I wrote, she’d be very annoyed, she gets sharp with me if I tell her she’s looking badly. And I’m not saying it to make you feel guilty so that you’ll come home. If things were bad you were quite right to go, and Donal thinks that too. But you might be the one to persuade her to go to a doctor … she listens to you.
Imagine Elizabeth having a child so quickly, she must be disgusted. I thought that there were no unplanned babies born in England these days, she must still have her Kilgarret training rooted in her.
Love, Niamh
*
‘Just enough to worry us to death and not enough to tell us what might be wrong,’ fumed Aisling when she read the letter. Ten months of silence and then this. Isn’t she really unspeakable?’
‘If it’s such a village,’ Johnny said, ‘why can’t you ask someone you know and trust to go and have a look at her and tell you honestly?’
‘That’s harder than you think, rumours start. … It’s probably nothing, Niamh sounds as if she just got the idea into her head and wrote it while she was still thinking about it.’ They were sitting in the Manchester Street flat having little cups of china tea which Johnny said was an elegant thing to do: he had shown her what kind of cups to serve it in and she had now quite taken to the notion of sipping tea that smelt of perfume and which you put no milk in.
‘Yes, I’m sure it’s all a bit overdramatic.’ Johnny got up and stretched. Aisling remembered that Elizabeth had always said that about him. He didn’t like to talk about unpleasant things.
‘I’m sure you’re right,’ she said putting away Niamh’s letter.
Johnny smiled, stretched again like a cat and sat down. ‘What will we do tonight?’ he asked.
‘It’s my bridge night,’ she said.
‘Oh tell them you can’t go …?’
It was a big decision. She telephoned Henry and said she had to go out suddenly. Someone had turned up out of the blue.
‘Why didn’t you say you were going out with me?’ Johnny asked.
‘I don’t know,’ said Aisling honestly, ‘I just didn’t.’
Mrs Moriarty wrote to Aisling a long reassuring letter; she had been into the shop, and though Eileen looked a bit wishy-washy the light there was never good at the best of times. She had made an excuse and called to the house in the square too. Eileen had been in fine form, full of chat about young Donal and Anna Barry. Not a complaint out of her. Mrs Moriarty had asked quite specifically how Eileen had been feeling and had discovered that she had been feeling in top form. Mrs Moriarty said that Aisling was a good daughter to be so concerned but she really mustn’t worry. Mrs Moriarty said she would tell no one of the enquiry, not even Donal, who had become like a son to them. She ended by saying that she was praying that Aisling’s problems and worries would be sorted out satisfactorily, and in the meantime, Aisling should rest assured that the Good Lord always looked after people in His Own Way.
Niamh wrote a short letter and said that Mam said she had been feeling a bit under the weather but she was much better now. She had been to Doctor Murphy and got some good tablets. And she did look a lot better.
I’m writing to tell you all this because it’s silly to write and tell you the alarming news without writing back when the news stops being alarming. Thanks for not upsetting everyone about it. Or maybe you were too busy over there to be able to get in touch. I hear you work as a receptionist in some specialist’s place. Tim and I will be going to London some time before Christmas for a weekend. Could we have a bit of the floor in your place? We’ve got sheepskin jackets so we won’t need much in the way of bedclothes. I’ll let you know nearer the time.
I hear Tony has gone off to England to learn more about the business. Diversification, is what Mrs Murray told Anna Barry’s mother. Whatever that means. But of course you probably know all this already. I suppose you know that Donal and Anna are thinking of buying the ring. Or so I hear from other people. I find that the older I grow the less people tell you. Or maybe it’s just Kilgarret. Or maybe it’s just me. Look after yourself and see you in December for two nights, if that’s all right.
Love, Niamh.
Johnny took her to the ballet one night and to a little Greek restaurant another night.
‘I never knew people had wines like this,’ said Aisling happily. ‘What’s it called again?’
‘Retsina. It’s a special way they have of making wine.’
‘Have you been to Greece?’
‘Yes, it’s terrific, I’m going to go again next summer. You should come with me. You’d love it, I thought the Squire would have taken you to the Greek islands. I thought that was the kind of thing squires did.’
‘This squire took me to the pubs of Rome twice and that was it. So Greece is still to come.’
‘It’s a date,’ Johnny said lightly.
‘Can I pay for the meal tonight, you’ve spent a lot?’
‘No, no, heavens no.’
‘What can I do
to repay you?’
‘Ask me to supper in that tasteful flat that I practically furnished for you.’
‘Of course. When?’
‘Tomorrow?’
‘Tomorrow.’
‘Hallo, Elizabeth, is it a bad time?’
‘No, no of course not. I’m just putting her into the cot, Conchita has arrived.’
‘Oh yes, you’re off to the college.’
‘I hate leaving her actually, very boring and Mumsy suddenly. I thought wouldn’t it be great if I could put her in a sling over my arm?’
‘I don’t see why not, in the art college they should be nice and Bohemian now. They’d accept it.’
‘They might, but it’s pouring with rain, she might drown on the way there. How are you?’
‘I wanted to ask you something. It’s a bit awkward. …’
‘Go on, what is it?’
‘Well, it’s a bit childish, but Johnny asked himself to supper in my flat tonight.’
‘Yes?’
‘And I was wondering … I wondered did you mind?’
‘Mind what?’
‘His coming to the flat.’
‘Heavens above, hasn’t he been going to the flat since the day you found it, haven’t we all? Why should I mind?’
‘Well, just him and me, in case … God, this sounds silly, in case there was any lingering anything, you know?’
‘I see,’ Elizabeth said, emphatically. ‘Oh, I see. No, Guide’s honour, and cross my heart and hope to die, the coast is clear. …’
‘And I’m not …?’
‘Treading on any broken hearts? No, not at all. Go ahead. With all the usual warnings.’
‘It’s nothing like that, it’s just that. …’
‘I know, and you don’t have to tell me, but if you do I won’t mind.’
‘There’ll be nothing to tell.’
‘Enjoy yourself.’
‘I hope you don’t mind my taking this extraordinary attitude.’ Aisling was almost purple with embarrassment.
‘Heavens, no, my dear girl, it’s entirely up to you.’
‘It’s just I feel that by asking you to supper I sort of implied that the other was also … on the menu.’
‘No no, shall we have another little drink instead?’
‘Johnny, you’re far too smooth, and like the hero of the film … why aren’t you flustered like I am?’
‘Darling girl, what is there to be flustered about? We were kissing each other very delightfully and I suggested that we might go to your bed and kiss further there, and you said you didn’t want to, I said fine, let’s have a little drink instead.’
‘Yes, that’s right, it’s not a matter for getting flustered about.’
‘You’re very pretty flustered.’
‘No, I’m not, my red face clashes with my hair. I’m best when I’m pale with anxiety. I once saw my face in a mirror when I was so anxious about something or other that Tony had done – I can’t remember now – but I looked quite ravishing.’
They had a companionable drink and Johnny left before midnight.
‘It was a lovely meal and a lovely evening.’
‘I’m sorry about the other thing.’
‘Don’t worry about it, I’ll suggest it from time to time – or better still, you do if it occurs to you. Otherwise we won’t worry about it.’
‘Are you going to get the tube back to Earls Court?’ she asked.
He had his address book out. ‘No, love, I think I’ll go and call on a friend, it’s early still.’ He waved at a taxi and was gone.
She went up to her flat which smelt of food and cursed herself for being so stupid. Why could she not have said yes, she would like to have kissed him in her bedroom. Why could she not have learned about making love from a smashing lover like Johnny Stone?
*
‘Nothing happened,’ she told Elizabeth next day on the phone.
‘You forgot to cook dinner?’ Elizabeth asked.
‘No I forgot to go to bed with him,’ she said.
‘He’ll ask you again.’
Ethel Murray had never written a full reply to any of Aisling’s long warm letters. But she did reply when Aisling said she had heard Tony was in England, what possible course could he be doing in ‘diversification’?
I had to say something, Aisling, when people asked me where he was, but in fact Father John was able to use his connections and get Tony into this very nice nursing home. They have a special Catholic chaplain there and mass and confession for all the Catholic patients; others have their own services. I know I’ve pleaded with you long and often to see him, and I understand in a way some of your reasons for not coming back to Kilgarret, but now that he’s in England, over in the same country, could you not go and see him? Make no promises, just go to see him. He’s very bad, Aisling. Doctor Murphy here sent him for some medical tests and he definitely has a liver infection. So this is being treated as well as his craving for drink. That wonderful priest in Waterford has been a great support; he told me, and I believe him, that Tony did not mean to hit you that night, that they often do the very reverse of what they would do when sober. It’s just their illness. I enclose the address in hope and prayer that you may find it in your heart to visit him. It’s not near London, it’s more in the North of England. It’s near Preston.
Your loving mother-in-law Ethel Mary Murray
Johnny telephoned and asked her if he could cook supper for her one night the following week.
‘That would be great. What time?’
‘Come earlyish, about seven say. That will give you plenty of time to catch a tube back home – if you want to.’ It couldn’t have been more straightforward, he could hardly have made it more plain.
She wore not only her best dress, but her good slip, and the only panties with lace on them. She even bought a new bra because she thought the one she had was grubby. She put a mouth-freshener and a small talcum powder in her handbag. Then she remembered having made all those preparations for her honeymoon and her heart became like a stone.
Johnny cooked some dish with rice: she couldn’t identify what it was, it tasted like sawdust. The wine was bitter, yet she knew this was all in her mind. After dinner they sipped brandy by his fire and he played ‘Unchained Melody’ over and over on the radiogram. He kissed her several times … and said that they would be more comfortable in the other room.
‘That would be nice,’ she said weakly.
He helped her take off her clothes and kissed her again as she stood in her slip.
‘You won’t believe this, but I’ve never done it before.’
‘I know, I know.’ He was very soothing.
‘No, you don’t know. ‘I’ve never done it at all. Not even when we were married. …’ She didn’t dare look at him. ‘That was part of the problem. He didn’t, he couldn’t … so I never. …’
Johnny folded her in his arms very tightly and stroked her hair. ‘Poor Aisling, stop trembling, it’s all right, it’s all right.’
‘I’m very sorry, I should have told you before … at my age it’s ridiculous.’
‘Poor Aisling.’ He stroked her hair and held her to him. He was so nice and kind she could hardly believe it.
‘So if you’d prefer us to get dressed and forget it, if it would all be a lot of work for you. …’
‘Stop burbling, Aisling.’ He stroked her hair still, she felt safe and happy in his arms. ‘Whatever you like my sweetheart,’ he said. ‘If you’d like to stay with me, that’s wonderful. If you want to go home, of course home you go.’
‘I’d like to stay with you,’ she said in a small voice.
‘Then we’ll just take it very easily, very gently,’ he said. ‘You’re so beautiful Aisling, you’re so lovely – I’m very glad to be the first.’ He held her tight to him and she could feel his heart beating.
She was glad he was the first too.
She lay and looked at him as he slept.
It had been so gen
tle and natural and as if it had been meant to be like that always. In fact it seemed ridiculous to kiss and stroke someone without fitting exactly together with them like that. It had been so lovely to think she was giving pleasure only by welcoming him towards her.
To think how worried she had always been about this. She must have been very silly and immature. There was nothing awkward. No shame, no awful moment of when you did and when you didn’t.
Suppose she had met Johnny years ago, years and years ago when it had all been groping and shoving and awkward and rough? Suppose she had always known this kind of loving, that it was there at the back of her mind? Then surely she would have been less hopeless. How great to have been able to love somebody properly, to have been part of this lovely man. If only it had happened to her long long ago, when she was a young girl.
Like it had happened to Elizabeth, she remembered suddenly. Then she looked at the sleeping Johnny and put that very firmly out of her mind.
XIX
AISLING FOUND THAT being a doctors’ receptionist was not very challenging. She welcomed the patients as they came in, settling them in the elegant waiting room with its highly-polished furniture and copies of Country Life and The Field on the huge table. She kept three immaculate appointment books, the card indexes and a detailed day by day book in three different-coloured pens, so that any of the doctors could look back and see what had related to him on any given day.
They were very pleased with her and each one of them told her separately that when she had taken two weeks’ holiday at Christmas there had been utter chaos. The temporary girl had confused everything, and had not been able to follow Aisling’s simple system.
‘Maybe I’ve become an old retainer, a treasure … wonderful Old Miss O’Connor.’ Aisling smiled.
They hastily assured her that she didn’t seem at all old to them.
‘They have absolutely no sense of humour, that’s what’s wrong with them,’ Aisling said to Elizabeth and Henry as she was doing one of her impersonations. ‘But I suppose if I was raking in all the money they are, I wouldn’t have time for a giggle either, I’d be too busy counting it and gloating over it.’
‘Do they make a lot?’ Henry was interested.