Divided Loyalties Page 8

  ‘Well you have the house looking great,’ Carrie commented, battling through the throngs at the barrier.

  ‘Thanks to the mini-maids,’ Shauna said dryly, elbowing a busty blonde out of the way.

  ‘Excuse me!’ snapped the blonde.

  ‘Sorry,’ apologized Shauna and kept going, dragging Carrie behind her until they were at the front of the barrier.

  ‘You’re something else,’ giggled Carrie as the doors parted and a river of people spilled out into the arrivals hall.

  ‘Can you see him?’

  ‘No, can you?’

  They craned and stretched for at least ten minutes before their first welcome sighting. ‘There he is, there he is!’ Carrie exclaimed, waving madly.

  ‘Crikey, look at his highlights. Wait until Dad gets a load of that. It’s the Killer Queen himself.’ Shauna’s smile went from ear to ear as she pushed her way towards the barrier opening and reached out her arms to embrace her brother, tears in her eyes.

  ‘My turn,’ Carrie exclaimed, launching herself at Bobby.

  ‘Don’t you cry too,’ he remonstrated, but his own eyes were suspiciously bright as he hugged the both of them. They held each other, their gladness at being reunited tinged with sadness at the knowledge of how much their mother would have enjoyed such a reunion.

  ‘Come on, let’s get out of here. It’s worse than Heathrow.’ Bobby gave them a little nudge and pushed his trolley towards the exit.

  ‘Can we go for a coffee or a beer somewhere and have a little catch up, just the three of us?’ Carrie asked eagerly, holding on to Bobby for dear life. ‘Or are you in a desperate hurry to get home, Shauna?’

  ‘Not in the slightest.’ Shauna laughed. ‘Greg can take care of Chloe for another hour or two. It won’t do him a bit of harm, he gets away with murder as it is,’ she added with a slight edge to her voice.

  Bobby arched an eyebrow. ‘Everything not OK in Paradise?’ he queried.

  ‘Everything’s fine . . . well, apart from the Freeloaders inviting themselves for Christmas.’

  ‘You’re joking! Bloody hell.’ Bobby pulled a face. ‘Della and slobby Eddie. I’ve changed my mind. I’m going back this second.’ He halted dramatically.

  ‘Give over.’ Shauna grimaced. ‘I feel bad enough about it as it is.’

  ‘Oh, OK, then just for you. But Eddie better watch out. I might jump on him.’

  ‘It’s OK, Carrie’s got everything under control. She’s told me to put Dad sitting beside Della.’

  ‘You’re evil,’ Bobby grinned.

  ‘You don’t know the half of it. Come on, guys, there’s a little coffee shop in Swords that might be open. They do coffee cake to die for.’

  ‘Sounds good to me,’ Bobby agreed. ‘Lead the way.’

  Thirty-five minutes later they were tucking into a thick wedge of creamy coffee and walnut cake and drinking hot sweet tea.

  ‘This is the life. Cake and no argumentative kids,’ Carrie said dreamily, licking her fingers.

  ‘I never knew you had such a sweet tooth. You’re usually more into savouries.’ Bobby looked at her suspiciously. ‘Are your boobs a bit fuller? Is your hair straighter? Have you something to tell me?’

  ‘You’re so gay,’ Carrie teased affectionately. ‘A straight bloke would never notice.’

  ‘I have empathy, me, from my difficult childhood, you know. I’m very sensitive,’ Bobby mocked himself. ‘You’re preggers, aren’t you?’

  ‘You bet I am.’ Carrie smiled.

  ‘Are you pleased? Is Dan?’

  ‘Yeah, delighted.’

  ‘He’s a good bloke. I’m glad for you, Carrie.’ He leaned across and kissed her. ‘How are all my darlings? I am dying to see the kids.’

  ‘Believe me, they’re dying to see you. We had a row because they wanted to come to the airport,’ Carrie assured him.

  ‘You should have brought them.’

  ‘Are you mad? This is my sane time. As soon as I go back to that house I’ll be a fishwife after five minutes.’

  ‘And how is my godchild?’ He turned to Shauna.

  ‘Gorgeous. Wait until you see her. She’s a real little sprite. Isn’t she, Carrie?’

  ‘She’s adorable. I’m really going to miss her.’ Carrie’s lip wobbled.

  ‘Carrie, stop!’ Shauna exclaimed. ‘You can’t do that to me.’

  ‘Sorry.’ Carrie swallowed. ‘It’s my hormones.’

  ‘And how’s Dad? Has he got the red carpet out? Do you think he’ll like the hair?’ Bobby gave a dramatic toss of his blond locks, lightening the mood immediately. His sisters laughed.

  ‘Dad’s himself.’ Carrie threw her eyes up to heaven. ‘He wants me to go to Midnight Mass with him tonight. He had me doing all his Christmas shopping, and I could have throttled him because he was so pernickety. Oh, he’s himself all right.’

  ‘I’ll go to Mass with him. Just think of it as my contribution to the Christmas effort,’ Bobby volunteered.

  ‘You’re on.’ Carrie jumped at the offer. ‘Thanks, lovey. I want to go to bed as early as I can because my two are so excited, I bet they’ll be awake in the middle of the bloody night, but I didn’t like the idea of him going on his own. It’s too lonely. Needless to say he wouldn’t miss it even though he’s coming with us in the morning as well.’

  ‘You get your beauty sleep and don’t worry, I’ll accompany Papa to Mass. I’ve got a gorgeous maroon mandarin-style jacket, very seasonal. I’ll wear it, and a green silk scarf. Whiteshells Bay, prepare to be dazzled.’ Bobby grinned.

  ‘I’d nearly drive all the way up just to see you.’ Shauna couldn’t hide her amusement. Noel would be horrified. He’d far prefer to see his son dressed in a ‘proper’ suit. It really irritated him that Bobby wasn’t prepared to tone it down. Christmas certainly wouldn’t be boring, she mused, as she signalled the waitress for the bill.

  ‘I’ll wear it tomorrow, weather permitting,’ Bobby promised. ‘We’ll be going to the grave, won’t we?’

  ‘Yep.’ Shauna nodded.

  Bobby sighed. ‘It doesn’t get any easier, sure it doesn’t. Part of me is dreading going home because it just hits me all over again that Mam’s not there. I keep expecting to see her sitting in her chair doing her crossword.’

  ‘It’s easier for us, I suppose,’ Carrie reflected. ‘We’re here all the time. It’s not that we’ve got used to it, you never get used to it, but you just don’t expect to see her.’

  ‘Until it’s happened to you, you don’t really understand what people go through, sure you don’t.’ Shauna sighed. ‘You say all the platitudes and feel sorry for people who’ve had a bereavement and after a while you forget that they’re still sorrowing. Life goes on, you think. It goes on for sure but the missing of them never goes away. I never really realized that until Mam died.’

  ‘I know it’s awful, but lots of times I wish it had been Dad that went, not Mam,’ Bobby said quietly.

  ‘Me too,’ Shauna murmured.

  ‘Ah guys, please don’t. He’s getting old. He’s lonely. His life isn’t easy either,’ Carrie chided.

  ‘Oh, listen to us,’ Bobby exclaimed. ‘Maudlin talk and we’re not even drunk.’

  ‘No, it’s good to talk like this. At least we’ve always been able to talk and share. We’re lucky.’ Shauna patted Carrie’s arm. ‘I didn’t mean to upset you.’

  ‘Me neither,’ Bobby assured her.

  ‘That’s OK. You know, we should be getting a move on. It gets dark so early these afternoons, doesn’t it? It’s just gone half three.’ The grey, gloomy dusk had descended, the Christmas tree in the corner of the small coffee shop coming into its own in the twilight.

  ‘I love Christmas trees at this time of the day. At dusk they always look so magical,’ Shauna said as she wrapped her scarf round her neck.

  ‘Me too. I hate sunny Christmas Days when you can’t see the lights properly.’ Bobby shrugged into his leather jacket.

  ‘And I hate mild Christmas Da
ys too,’ Carrie interjected. ‘I love frosty, crisp, cold Christmas mornings when you can see your breath going to Mass.’

  ‘You might have your wish. It’s bloody freezing now.’ Shauna shivered as the three of them walked back to the car. It was a light-hearted drive back to Malahide to collect Carrie’s car. They were glad to be in each other’s company, catching up on all the news, just the three of them.

  Bobby was gobsmacked when he saw Chloe, who hid shyly for a little while before gaining confidence and coming to stand at his knee.

  ‘You are a stunner, young lady. Look at how big you are. The last time I saw you, you were crawling around the floor, and now look at you, practically ready for the catwalk,’ he teased, making outrageous faces at her, causing her to burst into hearty guffaws. ‘Shauna, she’s amazing. I’m so glad I came home. I’m dying to see Olivia and Davey as well. We’ll have fun tomorrow, no matter what.’ He hugged his younger sister. ‘I’ll spike Della’s drink for her and get her blotto—’

  ‘You can’t. She’s pregnant, unfortunately,’ Carrie informed him as she slipped her jacket back on. ‘Come on. I need to get home.’

  ‘Nuts! Well, I’ll think of something, never fear. Chin up, sugarplum. We’ll see you tomorrow.’ He winked at Shauna.

  ‘Welcome home, Bobby. It’s great to see you.’ She hugged the daylights out of him and was hugged tightly in return.

  Noel buttered some of the fresh bread he’d bought earlier and laid a slice of cooked ham down on the first piece, with thin slices of tomato on top. The kettle had boiled, and some fruitcake already cut and buttered sat in the middle of the table. Carrie had told him that she’d made a lamb shank casserole for their dinner, which he and Bobby could eat later in the evening. He wanted to have something prepared for when they arrived; he wanted his son to feel that he had gone to some trouble. He dropped a small piece of ham down to Twiskers, who pounced on it delightedly. Bobby had always liked cooked ham sandwiches as a child. Noel hoped he still liked them.

  He shook his head as he made the sandwiches. Theirs was such a fraught relationship and always had been. His son was the most stubborn character he’d ever met. From when he was a youngster, he’d pitted himself against Noel, and poor dear Anna had been stuck in the middle, trying to keep the peace. His late wife had been misguided. If she’d let Noel take a firmer stance with their youngest child he might not have turned out the way he had. Anna had mollycoddled him, Noel thought sorrowfully. Not only had she mollycoddled him, she’d pandered to his every whim.

  It had infuriated Noel. Even to this day the memory of it made him bitter and cross. Bobby had come between him and his dear wife on many occasions and although forgiveness was the aim of every Christian, it was difficult sometimes. He was quite convinced that poor Anna’s end had been hastened prematurely because of the behaviour of their son.

  Noel sighed deeply. He must try hard to let go of the anger and resentment he felt towards his youngest child. Fortunately he was going to confession later tonight. He would pray hard to be absolved of all his sins and he would pray even harder that Bobby would sort himself out.

  It seemed to him that Bobby went out of his way to be girlish and outrageous. Why couldn’t he be more . . . Noel struggled to find a word . . . more . . . more manly. He had tried to get him interested in hurling and football, he’d made him join the Boy Scouts to toughen him up, insisting that he go camping and hiking, but all Bobby was interested in was playing his guitar and writing poetry.

  Noel hadn’t wanted him to get a guitar; he’d been vehemently opposed to it. But Anna had got him a job in the local greengrocer’s and out of his wages he’d saved enough to buy that damn instrument, and once he’d started working he’d refused to play hurling and football any more. Noel had been extremely angry. To his remembered shame, he hadn’t spoken to his wife for two weeks, God forgive him. And God forgive Bobby, he thought bitterly. He had a lot to answer for.

  His behaviour was an affectation, a looking for notice, that had always afflicted his son. Noel was sure he could behave normally if he made the effort. And as for the other unmentionable thing . . . the liking of other men . . . that was too distressing to contemplate. The Bible was very clear on it, as he’d told his son and indeed his daughters over and over again. It was too painful to think about. The sigh came from the depths of his being. He dropped more ham on the floor for Twiskers, who devoured it and rubbed her head against his leg, and pressed the top slice of bread onto the last of the sandwiches.

  Maybe he’d get a pleasant surprise when Bobby arrived home. Maybe he’d got all that nonsense out of his system and was now ‘normal’. Noel fervently hoped so. He cut the sandwiches in half and arranged them on the plate, then went into the sitting room to put another few logs on the fire. It was good to come home to a blazing fire. By making the effort he was acting in a forgiving manner, he comforted himself. God would surely be pleased with him. He heard the crunch of tyres outside the window and saw Carrie’s car pull to a stop in the drive. Noel peered out eagerly, hoping to see a smartly dressed, ‘normal’-looking young man get out of the car.

  An apparition dressed in a brown leather jacket and a beige floaty silk scarf got out. Noel stared at Bobby’s hair. The last time he’d seen his son his hair was its ordinary brown colour. Now it was different shades of blond. Just like a woman, Noel thought in dismay.

  ‘O Mother of God give me patience and strength,’ he prayed as he heard Carrie’s key in the door. ‘This is a hard cross to bear.’ Bobby had become even more outrageous. He hadn’t straightened himself out one bit. If anything, he was a thousand times worse.

  ‘Hello, son,’ he said heavily as Bobby came through the door. He didn’t even bother to shake hands. What was the point? If his only son wouldn’t even try to make an effort on his visit home, why should he bother?

  ‘I’ve made sandwiches, they’re in the kitchen. Help yourself; Carrie will make you a cup of tea. I’ve to go and see Father Doyle about something. I’ll see you later.’

  Just for an instant, Bobby looked crestfallen as Noel went into the hall to get his coat. ‘See,’ he whispered to Carrie. ‘He can’t even bear to be in the same house as me.’

  ‘Don’t forget it’s Christmas Eve. There’s always a lot of things to do in the church,’ Carrie said lamely, hurting for him.

  ‘Nah.’ He shrugged despondently. ‘Some things never change.’

  10

  ‘Mammy, Daddy! He’s come, Santa’s come!’ The shrieks of excitement penetrated the fog of sleep that shrouded her, and Carrie struggled to come to consciousness. Beside her Dan snored contentedly.

  ‘Wake up.’ She gave him a dig in the ribs as Olivia and Davey danced into their bedroom, light from the landing shining onto their faces, which were radiant with excitement.

  ‘Daddy, I got a chopper bike!’ Davey could hardly get the words out he was so excited.

  ‘Mammy, Mammy, I got a bike too and a Barbie Bride. Look, she’s got a veil and everything.’ Olivia was in ecstasy as she waved her doll under her mother’s nose.

  ‘And we got sweets in our stockings, real chewy toffees.’ Davey’s cheeks were bulging.

  ‘Give us one,’ Dan said groggily, hauling himself up into a sitting position. ‘What time is it, Carrie?’

  Carrie squinted at her alarm clock. ‘Four thirty-five. Ten minutes later than last year.’

  ‘Dad, watch me cycle up the hall,’ Davey urged.

  ‘Come on so,’ Dan agreed, flinging back the duvet. ‘If you give me another one of those sweets.’ He smiled at Carrie and she smiled back at him as she lay against the pillows with Olivia snuggled in beside her. This is happiness, she realized. That rare fleeting moment when everything is just perfect.

  Della gazed with dismay at the heap of puke-stained sheets and clothes strewn in her bath. She ran the shower hose over them then piled them all into a basket and headed for the kitchen and washing machine. This was the third time that Kathryn had puked. The girl in th
e crèche had told her that there was a bug going around when she’d gone to collect her at midday.

  When she’d taken her to the doctor he’d just given her Dioralite and told her to keep Kathryn hydrated and not to let her mix with other children for a couple of days. Her daughter was sleeping fitfully now, after her last bout. She was flushed and hot in the bed in the spare room. Eddie had come in from the pub well pissed and was snoring, oblivious. It was five a.m.

  Della was utterly browned off. They could hardly go to Dublin if Kathryn was puking. The doctor had said not to have her around other children, as the bug was highly contagious even if it was only a twenty-four-hour thing. She felt like crying. Such rotten luck. Christmas ruined. She supposed she should soak some aduki beans and take a leg of lamb or a joint of beef out of the freezer, seeing as she had no turkey. She went to open the door and paused. She’d give it another hour or two. If Kathryn didn’t puke any more she’d take her chances. She wasn’t going to let a bloody bug spoil her Christmas jaunt to Dublin.

  Bobby stirred in the bed, conscious that he was cold. His feet were like two ice blocks. He was sleeping in his childhood divan and the duvet had slid off him. Noel, parsimonious at heart, did not believe in keeping the heating running all night and the house had grown chill. He shivered and pulled the duvet back over him, burrowing down into the warm spot his body had created. He had slept badly, his body tense and restless. He wanted to go back asleep but his mind was racing.

  He knew Noel had been dismayed when he’d made his offer to go to Midnight Mass. ‘Carrie’s coming with me,’ his father had assured him hastily.

  ‘No, I told her to go to bed early. She’s tired from her pregnancy. I told her I’d go with you,’ he’d said firmly.

  ‘You’re grand. I can go myself; you go to bed. I’m sure that you’re tired after travelling. Go to Mass in the morning with the family,’ Noel urged.

  ‘I promised Carrie that I’d go with you and besides, I like Midnight Mass. I love the carols.’ Bobby dug his heels in.