“I know,” Kit remembered.
“Listen, it’s not the end of the world. They’ll forget it, eventually.”
“Oh, I don’t think so,” Kit said.
“They will, they’ll know it was just part of the madness of the night.”
“Not when they see me glued to him for the rest of my life they won’t.”
Clio’s eyes and mouth were round. “Kit, you’re crazy. Stevie Sullivan, of all the people in the world.”
“Yes, of all the people in the world.”
“No, Kit, he has a girl everywhere. He doesn’t care who they are, married or single, fat or thin, you know what he’s like.”
“I do. I love him.”
“You’re still fevered, that’s what it is.”
“You asked me, you wanted to find out the lay of the land. Now you’ve found it out.”
“Why did you tell me this…? It can’t be for real.”
“Because you’re my friend. You tell me you love Michael O’Connor and you’ve been to bed with him and that you love it. We’re friends, we tell each other things.” Her voice sounded a bit hysterical, Kit realized this as she spoke.
“But loving Michael is different, it’s…well, it’s what you’d expect. You can’t love the fellow in the garage who’s slept with every maid in the parish.”
“His past isn’t important,” Kit said loftily.
“Ah, don’t be ridiculous, it’s not his past. Didn’t you see Orla Dillon turn up at the dance looking like a madwoman just wanting more of it with Stevie?”
“Didn’t you see him sending her home?”
“You’re serious,” Clio said in shock.
“You’re the one who always said I was unnatural because I didn’t love anyone. Now I do and that’s wrong too…”
“Look, I’m going home…you’re not well enough for visitors.”
“Okay, and tell Anna what I told you, that I’m crazy about him, and I won’t rest until I get him.”
“I’ll tell her nothing of the sort, I’ll say you were so pissed drunk you don’t remember dancing with him.”
“I’ll tell her different and that’ll get you into trouble for doing your job so badly.”
“I’ll ignore you, you’re quite mad. I came down to ask was there anything I could do for you, post letters, get you messages…but now I think I should get you a psychiatrist.”
“Thanks, Clio. You’re a real pal.”
Kit realized that though she had known Clio as long as she could remember, it was an odd friendship. If Clio was the last person on earth she wouldn’t ask her to ring Ivy to give a simple message. She couldn’t say, Clio please ring this woman in England and ask her is Lena all right. No questions, just do it. Clio would want every detail and the whole country would know every detail.
“Are you too tired? I won’t stay long.”
“No, Philip, it’s fine. It’s great to see you. Wasn’t it the best dance in the world?”
“Oh yes. I’ll never be able to thank you.”
“For what, Philip? For making an eejit of myself…I just got upset when they started talking about ghosts.”
“Oh, that,” Philip said.
“Sure what did you think I meant?” Kit looked at him long and hard. “How are your parents?” she said eventually.
“Oh, throwing out a new wing here and a new wing there. They think it was all their idea, can’t understand why I never saw the potential of the place.”
“You’re great, Philip,” she said.
“But not great enough.” His face was different. There was less doglike devotion there now. It was as if the dance had managed to convince him that there would be no future for them together.
She could trust him to the ends of the earth. But could she trust him to ring Ivy for her?
When Stevie arrived she was sitting up flushed and eager. “Leave the door open,” she whispered.
“Why?”
“I want them to know we’re not at it like knives on the bed.”
“Why did you suggest that? I’m just about able to control myself, if I think it’s out of the question. Don’t even joke about it.” His smile was broad.
“And I want to ask you something.”
“Anything.”
“I have it written down. I want you to do something, to make a call, but no one is to hear you.”
“Where is it to?”
“To London.”
“Sure.”
“Would Mona listen in on the exchange, do you think?”
“Not to me, I have too many boring calls to Dagenham and Cowley and places like that.”
“Not when Maura’s there.”
“Understood.”
“It’s the most important thing in my whole life. Could you do it now?”
“Straight away.”
“I’ve written it down for you.”
“Right.”
“No, it’s not just an ordinary message, wait till you go through it…Only Ivy, not her husband Ernest. Say you’re my boyfriend, and that I’ve been sick and can’t get to a phone…say I think I saw Lena here in Lough Glass on New Year’s Eve. I want to know if Ivy’s heard from her since then.” Tears began to fall down Kit’s cheeks.
Stevie took a handkerchief and wiped them away tenderly. “Will she tell me?”
“She might be worried, but you could say I trust you to ask the question but that you don’t know anything else. You don’t know the full story.”
He nodded as if he understood. He was so dear to her, his long dark hair on the collar of his scarlet jersey. She knew he had washed and changed his shirt just to cross the road and visit her. That made her feel so touched she could have cried again.
“I’ll be back soon,” he said. “Drink your soup, it’s going cold.”
“Thanks, Stevie.”
He had gone, he would do it, he had asked nothing. Kit closed her eyes. She was absolutely certain she had done the right thing.
“HOW did you get home?” Ivy asked, taking the small bag from Lena’s hand and removing the wet coat from her shoulders.
“Home?” Lena’s face was blank.
“Well, back here to London?”
“I came by boat and train. It was easier. No talking to people, no booking…no giving your name. You just get on.” The voice was flat and dead.
“You came by boat and train from Brighton?”
“I wasn’t in Brighton.”
“Yes you were, Lena. I rang you there.”
“Oh, then? Yes, that’s right.”
“So where were you since?”
“Ireland.”
“Ireland?”
“Lough Glass. I went to see them.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Yes.”
“What did they say?”
“They didn’t see me.”
“They threw you out?”
“No, they didn’t know I was there.”
“Look, Lena, could I ask you have you had anything to eat…?”
“I don’t know.”
“Suppose I were to make you something now…what would you like? I won’t offer you turkey…”
“I don’t mind, I haven’t had any turkey this year.” A very wan little smile, but it was better than nothing.
“Well, soup and a turkey sandwich?”
“A very small one, Ivy.”
The phone rang. “Wouldn’t you know,” Ivy said. “The operator said it was a call from Ireland.”
“Kit!” Lena leaped up. “Give it to me.”
“No, we don’t know…” Ivy tried to take the phone back.
“Hello,” a man’s voice said. “Could I speak to Ivy please? This is Stevie Sullivan, I’m Kit McMahon’s boyfriend.”
“This is Ivy,” Lena said.
“Well, it’s about Lena. Kit wants to know is Lena all right? Has she phoned you?”
“Why isn’t she phoning herself?” Lena wanted to know.
“She??
?s sick and she’s in bed.”
“Is she bad, too bad to phone?”
“No, I think it’s a kind of secret and she’s not meant to be heard phoning from home.”
“What do you mean, you think? You must know if you’re phoning. You must know everything.”
“Ivy,” the man said. “I’m Kit’s friend, she asked me to do this for her. She’s distraught over someone called Lena. I don’t know, truthfully I don’t. But I want to go back across the street now and tell her if Lena’s all right. Is she?”
“Yes,” Lena said slowly. “Tell her she is.”
“Excuse me, but could I give her just a bit more information than that? I don’t want to know who Lena is, but Kit was very ill and distressed the other night and she kept calling for Lena. I don’t know what it is, but it’s important.”
“Yes,” Lena said in a flat voice. “It is important.”
“So?” He waited.
“So if you could say that Lena got home fine, by boat and train and that…and that she’s fine now and will write soon, a long long letter.”
“She’s very upset, is there anything you could say that would sort of prove I’ve spoken to you?” He was going to do this right, he wouldn’t go back to Kit unless he had a message to convince her.
Lena paused for a moment.
“You could tell her…I suppose you could tell her that the hotel and the whole dance was a credit to her, that nobody could have believed the Central Hotel could look so well.”
“And that would prove that I talked to you?”
“Yes, it would, I think.”
There was another pause before Lena spoke. “You really don’t know what it’s about?” Lena asked.
“No.”
“Thank you,” she said.
“Thank you too, Ivy,” he said, and hung up.
He ran across the road to tell Kit. He repeated the message word by word. When he told her about the praise for the Central Hotel she looked at him with two eyes as big as dinner plates.
“Say it again.”
He did.
“You weren’t talking to Ivy. You were talking to Lena.”
She burst into tears.
Ivy helped Lena back to the table. “Well now…wasn’t that timing? Suppose he had rung half an hour ago, I wouldn’t have had anything to tell him.”
“Oh God,” Lena said.
“What do you mean?”
“She’s confiding in him. She’ll tell him and then she’ll be in his power forever.”
“What do you mean?”
“Stevie Sullivan will know her secret. He’ll have total power over her from now on. He’ll make her do whatever he wants with her. And however badly he treats her she’ll have to put up with it, because she can never escape. He knows her secret, he’ll always be able to hold that over her.”
“Why do you hate him so much?”
“I saw him, Ivy. I was as near to them as I am to you. I saw them kissing, I saw her eyes as she looked at him…”
“She’s going to fall in love…you don’t want her to be a nun?”
“No, but I saw him, Ivy.”
“And what’s wrong?”
“He was Louis all over again. He could have been Louis’s son. Or his younger brother. She’s going to do what I did. Look at the legacy I’ve given the child. To love someone who’s going to break your heart.”
“Jim, there’s a letter from Lena,” said Jessie.
“Oh, thank God. I thought she’d abandoned us totally. What does she say?”
“That’s she’s suffering from stress and her nerves, and that the doctor says it’s overwork. And advised her to take some weeks off. She says she’ll be back at the end of January.”
“Well, that’s a relief that she goes to a doctor anyway.”
“And she does work too hard,” Jessie said.
“We’ve tried to stop her, get her to take time off.” Jim had, many times.
“She says she might go to Ireland for a while.” Jessie was studying the letter.
“That would be good. It’s more restful over there. That’s where they’re from so they probably have friends and family.”
“She doesn’t say anything about him.”
“Well, he’ll probably go too.”
“She just says ‘I’ all the time…there’s no ‘We’ mentioned at all.”
Clio was having lunch with Michael O’Connor’s family. They seemed to be very taken with her, accepting her into their number.
“You will come to Mary Paula’s wedding?” Michael’s mother asked Clio.
“Yes, I’d love to, Mrs. O’Connor.” Things were going very well since New Year’s Eve. Huge praise had been lavished on the festivities at the CHL, as it was now known among them all. The Central Hotel Lough Glass had done a great job.
Fingers O’Connor had been interested in every detail. “And how did your stepmother enjoy the dance? Maura Hayes?”
“She’s my aunt, actually,” Clio said.
“She’s Kit’s stepmother,” Kevin O’Connor said.
“And Kit is…?”
“Kit’s the one I used to fancy,” Kevin explained helpfully.
“Well, how is she?” Fingers was persistent.
“I think she’s losing her marbles actually. She’s involved with the local rake.”
“Maura Hayes?” cried Fingers in disbelief.
“No, Kit,” they all said.
Fingers was going to get no more information about that nice plump woman he had always had such hopes of having a dalliance with.
Kit was back in Dublin. By an unspoken agreement Stevie Sullivan was not mentioned when she met Clio.
“Tell me about Mary Paula’s wedding. Is it going to be a big one?”
“No, dead quiet.”
“That doesn’t sound like the O’Connors.”
“Apparently the lovely Louis hasn’t any family…or any fit to field at a wedding.”
Clio sounded so snobby Kit hated her for a moment. Then she remembered who she really hated. “So how are they going to do it, then?”
“Not one of their own hotels. Marriage in University Church and sixteen people to lunch in a private room in the Russell. Just along Stephen’s Green.”
“The Russell! Lord, how posh.”
“I know. I don’t know what I’m going to wear. You wouldn’t tell me where you keep getting these gorgeous outfits.”
“You want to wear an off-the-shoulder scarlet evening dress to a lunch in the Russell?”
“Oh all right. I’ll never know. There’s so much I’ll never know about you, Kit.”
“And me about you. Aren’t we women of mystery?”
“You look very pale. Are you better from whatever it was?”
“Yes, I’m just a bit tired.” In fact she had been awake all night waiting for the letter that Lena had promised to send. A letter explaining everything. But which hadn’t arrived yet.
“Aunt Maura, it’s Clio. Do you remember that lovely little fur cape you wore at the dance?”
“Hello Clio. How nice to hear from you. All the way from Dublin.”
“Yes. Yes, well, I can’t talk long. But I was going to ask you a great favor.”
“What’s that?”
“I was wondering would you lend it to me for a wedding I’m going to. I really want to look terrific and I think it would be smashing over my cream-colored suit.”
“You’re very young for furs, Clio. They’re really for older women like me.”
“I know what you mean, but your one was particularly nice. It was really more suitable for a younger person altogether.”
“Oh really,” Maura said.
Clio tried to retrieve it. “What I meant was it looked so smart on you.”
“Good, I’m glad you liked it.”
“So I was wondering…” Maura let the pause rest between them. “I was wondering if you’d lend it to me. I’d be so careful of it…”
“No, I’m sorry.??
? Maura’s voice was cool. “I’d love to be able to help, but that’s a very special gift and I don’t want to leave it out of my hands.”
Stevie came to Dublin four nights a week, and on every one of those nights he and Kit went out together. They agreed that they meet out. The temptations of the bedroom, the quiet little bed-sit where no one would notice who came into the building and who left, had too many dangers.
Stevie wanted to be true to his promise. If staying with Kit meant staying out of bed with her he said that was the deal; he wanted to be with her.
They sat in chip shops and held hands. They took the bus to Dun Laoghaire and walked along the pier in the wind and rain. They went to the pictures in the big cinemas in O’Connell Street. They met no other people. They didn’t need anyone.
And who would they meet? Philip, whose face would break both their hearts. Clio, who thought that Kit was throwing her life away. Frankie, who was so wrapped up in Kevin O’Connor that she had time for no one else.
But they never tired of talking and touching and laughing. If anyone had asked her what they talked about, Kit thought one night, she couldn’t tell. The time had flown, but she didn’t know what they had spoken of. They didn’t talk about his past. Or his wish to love her in a different way. As they never mentioned the woman that he had spoken to that day on the phone. The woman who remained a secret that he never wanted to know. One day Kit would tell him it was her mother, but not yet.
My dearest Kit,
I have tried so many times. There’s a wastepaper basket full of pages torn up, screwed into little balls. I think I had a sort of breakdown. That’s all I can say. I hope it’s over. But it won’t be over really until Louis marries. It’s on January 26th in Dublin. When it’s all over and done with then I think I’ll be back to normal again. Please believe me, Kit. Forgive me in this as you have in so many other things. Tell me you are well and strong. That you are back at work.
I talked to Stevie. He thought it was Ivy but you know it wasn’t. He sounded very concerned about you. As if he loved you a lot. I’m saying this because I know you want to hear it. And also because I think it’s true. This doesn’t mean it’s all for the best. I love you so much, Kit. Whatever happens remember that.