He said it sounded great. They walked together through O’Connell Street, past crowds of people.
“I’ve never been here at night,” Emmet said.
“No. It’s changed completely.” They stopped and looked at the Liffey flowing under O’Connell Bridge.
“It’s not smelly,” Emmet said. “People are always saying it is.”
“It is a bit, to be honest, in the summertime but not now,” Kit agreed.
They went past Trinity College, and Kit pointed out students coming and going through the main gate.
“Are they very posh? English and upper class?” Emmet asked.
“I don’t think so, I used to think that, but apparently it’s just lots of foreigners and people who aren’t Catholics…but ordinary just the same.”
“It’s cracked Catholics not being allowed to go there. Brother Healy says it’s right, he says that for years when we wanted to they wouldn’t let us in.”
They walked up Grafton Street and looked at all the expensive things in the windows. They went by St. Stephen’s Green, all dark and shadowy now at night, and then up to Leeson Street.
“There’s a student pub here on the corner. This is where we’ll meet Philip afterward,” Kit explained.
“I’m glad he’s not coming to dinner with us,” Emmet said unexpectedly.
“Yes, well, he has improved but not so much as you’d want him round all the time. It’s just his parents are so awful it rubs off on him, you know.”
They went into the Indian restaurant and Kit picked a corner table. She advised Emmet about the menu.
“Suppose you have the mutton and I have the kofta curry—that’s meatballs.”
He nodded. His eyes were fixed on the menu as if he were trying to summon up the courage to say something. “This is quite dear, Kit. Are you sure we can afford it?” he asked.
“No problem,” she said.
“But all this and the pictures tomorrow and the tattoo parlor.”
“That won’t cost any money. Honestly, Emmet, don’t worry.” She put her hand to pat his as reassurance and to her horror his eyes filled with tears. “Oh, Emmet, what’s wrong?” she cried.
“Kit, I want you to do me a big favor. Will you do something for me, it’s a huge thing?”
“What is it?”
“Promise first.”
“I can’t promise until I know. That’s not fair. I’ll try, you know I will.”
“You have to promise…”
“What is it?”
“It’s Anna. She’s keen on Stevie Sullivan and he’s taking her out. She doesn’t want me anymore.”
“It’s only a crush, she’ll get over him.”
“No, they meet all the time, she’s crazy about him.”
“He’s too old for her. Much too old.”
“I know, but that makes him more interesting than ever.”
“But he can’t feel the same about her, can he?”
“Yes, he’s crazy about her.”
“What about Dr. and Mrs. Kelly? I bet they’re furious.”
“Yes, but all this makes it even more…I don’t know, dramatic.”
“What can I do…tell me what kind of favor could I possibly do you? Hypnotize her? Kidnap Stevie Sullivan?” Kit looked at him mystified to know what role he could see for her in all this.
“You’re not bad-looking, Kit. Fellows are always saying that you look terrific. Could you sort of set yourself at him and get him? Distract him from Anna…then she’d come back to me.”
Her first instinct was to laugh. Kit McMahon a Mata Hari who could attract the desire of any man away from a little blond beauty like Anna Kelly!
Then she saw his face and she didn’t laugh. Emmet was near breaking point. And he really believed she could do it. Poor, poor Emmet. Imagine feeling so strongly as this.
Kit had never loved anyone to the extent that she would admit it so openly, so wretchedly. She didn’t know anyone who could, except in books. Then with a shock she realized the only other person who had loved so foolishly and recklessly that she didn’t consider anyone else was Helen McMahon. Their mother. She looked at her brother, stricken.
“Will you do it for me please, Kit?” he begged.
“I’ll try,” she said.
The least she could do for him was try.
Chapter Eight
PADDY Barry apologized profusely. The man he had been going to visit in prison had been released.
“It was very bad luck,” he said over and over.
“Good luck for him, I suppose,” Kit had said.
“Yes, but bad for your brother.”
“I don’t mind,” Emmet said. “Is the tattooist still there?”
Paddy’s cheerful freckled face lit up. “Emmet boy, he is still there and we’re going to meet him this morning.”
“There’s no question of any of us getting things done on our arms is there…?” Kit regarded Paddy with some awe and anxiety. Anyone who could trick Fingers O’Connor into such craven submission was a force to be reckoned with.
“I might have a very small anchor done myself…I’ll see,” Paddy said. “No obligation on the rest of you, of course.”
“Does it hurt?” Emmet asked.
“Excruciating, I believe,” Paddy said.
The tattooist was a very small man with an anxious face. “Any friends of Mr. Barry’s are welcome here,” he said, looking doubtfully at Kit and Emmet.
“See, I told you.” Paddy was triumphant.
It had never been clear what particular service Paddy Barry had done for the tattooist. Kit didn’t really want to know. She felt it may not have been on the right side of the law that he was learning to uphold. It had something to do with giving him a warning about smuggled cigarettes from sailors. Whatever it had been it had been a matter deserving great gratitude.
“Would you all like tea?” the tattooist offered, and provided it out of grimy enamel mugs.
He showed the needles and the fluids and a book of designs, as well as letters from satisfied clients.
Kit looked at Emmet. He was utterly delighted with the experience. This had been a brilliant idea. She could hardly recognize the troubled face that had sat opposite her last night in the Indian restaurant as Emmet toyed with his food and begged her support.
They had agreed that Kit would give it her best. But in her own time and in her own way. Emmet must not keep inquiring how it was going, he must make no efforts to help. They had shaken hands on it and he had cheered up in time to meet Philip in the pub.
Philip had wanted to come to the tattooist as well but Kit had said that the thing was sufficiently like a circus already…they didn’t want to have to sell tickets for the visit. What about lunch? Philip had wondered. That was no use either. Emmet and Kit were meeting Rita and her boyfriend.
“Rita who worked for you?” Philip said.
“The very same.”
“What would you have to say to each other?” he asked. It was uncanny the way he sounded like his mother. You really could hear Mildred O’Brien in some of the things he said.
“We have lots to say to each other,” Kit explained. “Rita brought us up.”
Philip had felt the reproof and regretted his attitude but it was too late. He wouldn’t be able to see Kit and Emmet until the evening when they would meet for the pictures.
Kit brought her mind back to the conversation taking place in the tattoo parlor. Emmet seemed to be pricing a small heart with a four-letter word inside it.
“Don’t consider it for two seconds, Emmet,” she cried.
“It would be discreet,” the tattooist said.
“And a sign of how much I cared,” Emmet said.
“You wouldn’t want to commit yourself to one name at too early a stage though.” Paddy Barry was wise in the ways of the world.
“I’ll never want any other name,” Emmet said in a voice that chilled Kit to hear it.
“This is my friend Timothy,” Rita sa
id, and introduced the man from the car-hire firm.
Rita looked well. She had her hair cut smartly and she was wearing makeup. She wore a bright uniform jacket, as did Timothy. They worked Saturdays so were only free for a short lunch hour. Rita asked Kit all about the people in Lough Glass and Timothy told Emmet about the cars.
“Not a sign of his stammer. Isn’t it wonderful,” Rita said when she knew she couldn’t be overheard by Emmet.
“It comes and goes when he’s upset,” Kit said.
“Well, there’s probably not too often that happens. And Maura’s running the house all right with Peggy?”
“Nothing to the way you did,” Kit laughed.
They both knew that was only a politeness. Maura McMahon managed their home magnificently.
“Is this the real thing?” Kit jerked her head toward Timothy.
“I hope so, Kit, he’s very good to me. He’s mentioned marriage several times.” Rita looked pleased and proud.
“Can I come to the wedding?” Kit whispered.
“Of course you can, but it may not be for a while, we have to save a bit first. Perhaps I’ll be at yours before then.”
“I doubt it,” Kit said. “I’m not great with the fellows at all.”
“Too choosy more like it, you have them all admiring you.”
Kit hoped this was true. If she could just get Stevie Sullivan to admire her for a bit, that would honor her promise to Emmet. She wondered would it involve going the whole way. Kit swallowed nervously at the thought of it. Surely nobody could be expected to do that just for a childish promise to a brother.
“I often meet Clio on a Sunday,” Kit said to Emmet. “Would you like that or not…?”
His eyes lit up. Even the thought of being close to Anna’s sister was a delight. “And don’t forget, her family know nothing of her meeting Stevie…”
“So why don’t we let her get caught, make more trouble for her? Clio would help with that.”
“No, you don’t understand.” Emmet’s face had the tight tense look again. “She came and told me honestly, she made me promise as a friend that I’d not tell tales on her.”
“And you promised?”
“I did of course,” Emmet said.
“Heigh-ho,” said Kit.
“I hope my mother doesn’t hear you’ve had Emmet up here for a weekend,” Clio grumbled on the phone when Kit rang.
“You can be sure she will, they hear everything in Lough Glass,” Kit said.
“She’ll think I should be having the dreadful Anna.”
“Well, why not? It would be nice for her.” Kit was being very cunning. Perhaps it was an opportunity to get Anna away from Lough Glass and Stevie.
“We’ve always said that she and Emmet are two different species. Are they still in love with each other, by the way?”
“Hard to say,” Kit lied. “You know boys don’t talk much about that sort of thing.”
“Anyway she’s working very hard. Horrible little sneak that she is, she’ll get much more honors in her Leaving than I did. Apparently she’s off studying all the time.”
Kit nodded glumly. She knew about all this studying and what form it took.
Clio couldn’t stay long, she said as soon as she arrived. She was going to Michael O’Connor’s house. It was his sister’s birthday and there was a family lunch party for them.
“They’re very family-conscious,” she said proudly to Kit. Clio loved being included in the O’Connor rituals. “Mary Paula is allowed to choose what she wants for lunch and it’s made in one of the hotels and then served in the house.”
“Will there be champagne?” Emmet wanted to bring news home to Anna when he saw her as a friend.
“No, I don’t think so. Mr. O’Connor has probably had to make a few economies recently. He had to pay out unexpected sums of money.”
Clio glared at Kit, who giggled, pleased at the joke. It was as far as Clio would go, she would not risk the story getting home. It would reflect no credit on the beloved O’Connor family.
Philip and Kit said that Emmet would have to be on the train in good time, it got crowded early and there were a lot of people going home after spending a Sunday in Dublin. They went to have chips in a cafe first.
The girl at the cash desk in a bright green tentlike dress looked familiar. All three of them looked at her with interest and then they spoke at the same time.
“It’s Deirdre,” said Kit.
“Deirdre Hanley,” said Philip.
“And she’s pregnant,” said Emmet.
Deirdre was delighted to see them. “Imagine you lot being old enough to go out on your own,” she said. “I’ll get them to give you bigger helpings.” She called to the man in the white apron: “Gianni, these are friends of mine, huge helpings.”
“Molto grande,” Gianni cried enthusiastically.
“That’s my Gianni,” she said proudly to Kit. “He owns the place.”
“He’s very nice-looking,” Kit said admiringly.
“Yes, he’s not bad,” Deirdre said.
“Emmet came up for the weekend, Philip and I are doing hotel management.” Kit felt that Deirdre might not be up-to-date with all the details of their lives.
“You’re in Patsy’s year, Emmet, aren’t you?” Deirdre said. Patsy was the entirely different younger sister. All the mistakes Mrs. Hanley considered she had made with her eldest were being righted in her second daughter. Patsy was watched like a hawk.
“That’s right, I often see her,” Emmet said. He hardly noticed Patsy Hanley, if the truth were told, but he was being polite.
“When did you and Gianni get married?” Kit asked. It was something she had never heard at home, and Mrs. Hanley was great with news and information. Surely the eventual settling down of her troublesome daughter with an Italian who ran his own restaurant was worthy of mention.
“We didn’t actually get married,” Deirdre said. “You see, there’s this business…Gianni has a first marriage which has to be annulled. It will, of course, but it all takes time.”
“I know, I know.” Kit nodded sympathetically. She wished she hadn’t mentioned the word.
But Deirdre didn’t seem at all put out. “So the bambino may well be able to come to the wedding,” she laughed.
Emmet and Philip were amazed at the conversation that was taking place.
Gianni came to shake hands with them. “Deirdre tells me everyone in Lough Glass is old and old-fashioned,” he said, stroking the bump on her stomach. “But this is not so.”
“Not at all,” gasped Philip.
As they went to the station Kit said to Emmet: “Maybe you shouldn’t necessarily mention…”
“About Deirdre? I wasn’t going to,” he said.
“No, indeed. Wiser not,” Philip said.
But Kit knew that Mildred and Dan O’Brien would be told.
“ISN’T ‘Slough’ a funny word?” Lena said to Louis, shuffling some papers around. Normally she took very little work home, he hated to see her working.
“Why is it funny?”
“I thought it was pronounced sluff, you know, like enough, like to slough something off…”
“And what made you think of it?”
“I have to go there on Saturday to talk to a couple of schools.”
“Dawn going with you?”
“No, she left. Remember?”
“Oh that’s right.” He hadn’t remembered. But at least it meant that Dawn hadn’t contacted him and said that she had been fired because of her past.
Dawn had more style than that, Lena thought regretfully. The girl was a loss to them. They were grooming Jennifer but she didn’t have the same appeal.
“I’m going on my own…but you’re off that day, why don’t you come with me?”
“Much as I’d love to wander round a few girls’ schools, I don’t think it’s really my scene.”
“No, it’s only a couple of hours for me…then we could go and stay somewhere.”
“It’s all buses and trains,” he grumbled. He would love to have had a car.
“There must be nice places…we deserve a bit of a treat, a night out, a night away. The two of us.”
“All right, I’ll look into it. I’ll ask James, he knows everywhere and everything.”
Louis sounded a little restless these days. She had hoped that the mention of a change in their routine would brighten him up, but it seemed just another wearying chore. She wished that her location had been somewhere more glamorous than Slough.
She had forgotten how unpredictable Louis was. Next day he telephoned the office. “James knows the perfect place. He’s lending us the car, it will be a great weekend.”
“Where are you off to?” Grace asked.
“I don’t know. Louis found a hotel. We’re spending tonight there and tomorrow.”
“A real holiday,” Grace said admiringly.
“The nearest we get,” Lena said.
“Why don’t you go abroad?” Grace wanted to know.
“Too many complications.”
“Still, Buckinghamshire is nice.”
“I hope so.” Lena sounded a little unsure of herself.
“And you look lovely as always.”
“Ah, Grace…” Lena caught her eye in the mirror.
“Look at yourself, woman.” Grace was impatient. “You’re fantastic. Slim as a reed…gorgeous. But you’re not if you don’t believe it.”
“Sound advice, Miss West,” Lena said, laughing a real laugh and banishing all the strain from her eyes.
They had dinner at the elegant country hotel where James Williams had got them a fifty percent reduction for bed and breakfast. A wine bucket came to the table as soon as they sat down.
“We haven’t ordered anything yet,” Louis said.
“It has been ordered for you,” said the waiter. James Williams had wanted them to have a good weekend.
There was a small dance floor, a pianist and a saxophone player made music for the diners. Sometimes there were only two or three couples dancing. Louis and Lena held each other and danced to the music. They were a handsome couple. Anyone looking at them would have thought it might be an anniversary or an illicit weekend. They didn’t look like an ordinary married couple having a night out.