XVI

Everyone seemed eager to know what Johnny would say. Even Father. He wasn’t in a position to say anything for some time since Francesca had swept him off to her aunt’s restaurant somewhere

— and she and Auntie were feeding him with homemade minestrone and building him up again. Or that was the message that Stefan seemed to gather from the telephone call. Stefan was pleased but slightly fearful at Elizabeth’s announcement. He admired the ring, the single diamond which Henry had bought as soon as the jewellery shop opened the next day. He could have got Henry an antique ring at half the price, something much more beautiful but naturally he made no mention of it. Neither did Anna. Their congratulations seemed flat to Elizabeth, it was almost as if they were looking over their shoulders … expecting a fully-recovered Johnny to come in and overturn everything. Father said that he was pleased, he offered his congratulations to Elizabeth as if she were a stranger, a customer at the bank rather than his only child. He said that he liked Henry and hoped they would be happy. Then immediately he asked where Elizabeth would live, and what would happen to him for the rest of his life? He asked it flatly and not at all accusingly. Elizabeth had the answer ready. She thought that they should arrange for someone to rent her room at a low cost and that whoever the tenant was — perhaps a student, or a teacher she

should cook Father a meal each evening. Father said it would have to be looked into. Perhaps in the bank, it might not be thought, well, proper, to have a woman living under the same roof. Elizabeth kept her temper: yes of course it would indeed have to be looked into, but then of course there might be no need for it. Father was still a young man in his fifties, he was well able to look after himself. Elizabeth would be glad to show him how to make simple meals, and even when she was married she could come from time to time and do some baking for him. At no point in the conversation did Father say he would miss her, and she did not say she would miss him. Father put on his anxious face for a while and said that it all did seem for the best, and he hoped there would be no problems, no trouble.

‘What kind of trouble could there possibly be, Father?’

‘Well… the other young man, Johnny Stone … do you not think he may have had expectations? After all you have been seeing him for years and years. It’s not unreasonable for him to have expected… .’

‘Nonsense,’ Elizabeth said quickly, ‘I know I have been going out with Johnny and I’m very fond of him… but that’s different -Johnny’s not a person who settles down. He had no “expectations” as you call it.’

‘What does he say about you going to marry Henry?’ Father asked doggedly.

‘Nothing, he doesn’t know, he’s away.”

‘Aha,’ said Father.

Harry’s letter was muted in its warmth. Oh, he had all the right words but there was nothing behind them. There were three pages of Harry’s great sweepy handwriting. Elizabeth had a little bet with herself about whether he would mention Johnny on page two or page three. Probably two, she decided. She won her bet. She threw the letter on the floor in a rage and then had to go and pick it up. Damn Johnny Stone, why did he make everyone think he was right? Why did he have to cloud her marriage even now? She knew that Johnny wouldn’t mind if she married Henry, but nobody else knew this. Why did everybody take his side?

She told Henry Mason no lies. She said she had been Johnny’s lover, that he had been the only one, that she had loved him for a long time but recently, over a period of a year, she had begun to realise that it wasn’t any real relationship, it was an elaborate series of pretences and attitudes. Henry found this an entirely satisfactory explanation.

 

He had had one affair in his life too. It had not been so longstanding. It was with Simon’s sister; Barbara Burke was one of the first girls he had ever met, he met her at tennis parties, she was terribly good. She had found him endearing he thought, but she was very impatient with him, if he didn’t win the tennis match, catch the waiter’s eye quickly, find a taxi in the rain, she sighed and he felt that he was very inadequate.

Henry had become determined to please Barbara … and he had succeeded: for a year they had an affair and she did not think he should be patronised and patted on the head. It had been a very happy time, and Henry had wanted them to get married. But Barbara had said they were far too young, they should see the world a little. And oddly Simon had agreed. Henry had been afraid that Simon might have thought it was a poor show having an affair with his sister and not making an honest woman of her.

Anyway, it had all been for the best, because Henry began to realise that he was in fact involved in a complicated business of pretending that he was happy doing things when he certainly was not. He had to make such an effort all the time. Barbara became so impatient when he forgot things that he had a little notebook where he wrote things she said down. She accused him of not being aware of what was happening so he used to note headings in his book of things to talk about. When she was away and he telephoned her he had a whole list of things to say beside the phone. Then it dawned on him that this was no way to live. He explained it to Barbara, and she didn’t believe him, she thought it was all a game; but he assured her that the real Henry would bore her to death in two minutes … she only liked the rehearsed and constantly-aspiring-to-please Henry. Barbara never really understood what he meant but the romance ended.

What had happened to her? Oh, she married a doctor, a very successful chap called Donaldson. They all met from time to time — there had been no bitterness. In fact Henry would like to invite them to the wedding if that would be all right? Of course it would be all right, after all Johnny Stone would be invited to the wedding as well.

‘I wonder what he’ll say when he hears we’re getting married?’ said Henry.

Stefan had obviously decided that it was not up to him to tell Johnny the news. So when Elizabeth came into the shop muffled up against the cold January winds, he still didn’t know.

They hugged each other, she exclaimed at how well he looked. Italian soup must put strength into a man certainly, she laughed. Stefan went on polishing a candlestick that didn’t need to be polished, looking carefully the other way.

‘And what have you been up to?’ Johnny said. Johnny never discussed his dalliances, there had been the slightest little frown at Elizabeth’s reference to Italian soup.

Stefan had started to polish more earnestly than ever, and began to move unwillingly towards his own little office. Elizabeth had taken off her coat and long woolly scarf, her gloves and her knitted hat.

‘Lord, that’s better, I was beginning to feel like an Egyptian mummy. What have I been up to? Didn’t Stefan tell you? Henry and I decided to get married. Look, here’s the ring… you must wish us luck… .’

‘You and Henry decided to do what?’ said Johnny, holding her hand with the ring on it; he didn’t even notice that Stefan had scuttled off into his office.

‘Get married, some time at the end of the summer, if there ever is a summer, so now isn’t that a surprise?’

‘You can’t marry Henry. It’s … it’s ridiculous… .’

‘What on earth do you mean? Of course I’m going to marry Henry. It’s exactly what I want to do, I’m delighted to marry him, he is exactly the right person for me to marry, and I think I’m right for him too.’

‘Funny-face, is this some kind of silly joke?’

‘Johnny, of course it’s not. I wouldn’t make a joke about something like this… .’

‘Well, that’s what I thought, but you’re not serious?’

Elizabeth sat down on a carved hall chair. ‘I don’t know why you keep saying that.’

 

‘What the hell did you expect me to say? Well done, how clever, here’s to the bride and groom?’

‘Something like that, yes.’

‘Oh don’t be so stupid.’

‘But you like Henry, you like me … why aren’t you pleased?’

‘I had this silly idea that you were my woman. That’s all.’

‘Of course I’m not your woman, you would hate to think of a tie like that. You’ve never wanted one. Last summer when I asked you if you had any objections if I went out with Simon or Henry you looked surprised. “What objections can I have, pussy cat? You’re your own person.” Those were your words… .’

‘Yes and I meant them. But marrying one of them. Marrying Henry when my back was turned… . Oh, come on.’ ‘I didn’t marry him, I’m going to. If you were here I’d have told you. It wasn’t when your back was turned. He asked me on New Year’s Day and you weren’t… .’

‘Oh spare me the sordid blow-by-blow account, for heaven’s sake,’ pleaded Johnny.

Elizabeth shrugged. ‘It’s impossible to please you,’ she said.

‘You don’t try very hard to please me, do you sweetness? When my back’s turned going off to marry a twitching solicitor.’

‘He is not a twitching solicitor. God, how dismissive and cruel you are. Henry never says anything except nice things about you … why do you have to be so hurtful about people?’

‘He might say less nice things if he knew what I had been up to with his future bride.’

‘He knows.’

‘You never told prissy Henry about… .’

‘You are not to call him names. I told him that you and I were lovers for years, since I was eighteen. I know about his past. We’re not fools, but we don’t go over and over it with relish. …”

‘You are serious? You are going to marry him?’

‘Of course I am. Can’t you be happy for me, for us, instead of being all bitter and cruel? Can’t you?’

‘But I’m not happy, I’m not happy to have my lady love going off to marry someone else, let’s not be idiotic. Why should I be?’

‘I’m not your lady love. I’m one of them.’

‘The main one. For me … and I was the only one for you wasn’t I?’

‘Yes.’

‘So why can’t things be as they were?’

‘They can’t, it was nonsensical. I was pretending I didn’t care that you had other girls and that you didn’t want to settle down, but I did care, and I’m sick of pretending.’

‘You should have said. …”

‘If I had said … you’d have left me years ago, you left all the others who said, didn’t you?’

‘It’s rather drastic though, isn’t it? Going off behind my back and getting engaged to someone else.’

‘Wish me happiness?’

‘You’re making the greatest mistake in your life, choosing him rather than me.’

‘You wouldn’t have me if I chose you. “Free as the air”, another of your expressions… .’

‘Ah yes, but what we had was super. I thought we got the best of each other and none of the tedium — no valleys, all peaks.’

‘A bit unnatural though, as a permanent way of going on, wouldn’t you say?’ Elizabeth spoke without guile; she was even surprised at being able to talk in this way to Johnny. Her heart didn’t race any more, she didn’t try to find the right phrase, the good approach. She wasn’t eyeing him nervously in case his expression might change.

‘Dear Lord, homespun philosophy already.’ But Johnny was laughing. ‘Right, if you’ve got such a puritan ethic, you want the bad times and the whole business, then you’re going to get it. And I wish you well. And I wish you happiness. Of course I do, of course I do.’Johnny took her by the shoulders and pulled her up to face him. He kissed her gently on each cheek. ‘All the happiness in the world. You’re a lovely, lovely

 

woman. He is a really lucky man. Hey, Stefan, you old humbug, come out here and give me an account of yourself.

Stefan appeared nervously from the office where he and Anna had been peering through the slit they used in case there was any shoplifting.

‘Stefan, you’re a fine watch-dog. While I was away getting my strength back, look what you did. You let that solicitor walk off with my lady love behind by back. And now we’ve got to wish them well… .’

Stefan and Anna burst into smiles of relief. So would Henry, Elizabeth realised, so would Father, and so would Harry. Johnny had decided to get over his pique. The wedding could go ahead.

Elizabeth had a letter from Jean, Henry’s sister, welcoming her to the family. Simon Burke was so thrilled he had a drinks party at once in his flat, which was much more elegant and stylish than Henry’s place. His sister Barbara was there, wearing a small hat made of smooth feathers shaped to fit her hair-style, a fur stole and a very expensive dress. Her husband, the doctor, looked considerably older than her, greying, a little paunchy and very charming.

Barbara embraced her and wished her every happiness. ‘Henry tells me you’re so kind,’ she purred. ‘That’s what he needs, lots of kindness.’

Simon kept up a witty act about how he was the loser in some contest. It had always been the same, he complained, hand on brow in mock despair. When either of them wanted something it was always Henry who got it first. The flat with a view over the park? Henry got it. The office upstairs in the solicitors’ firm, the one with the big desk? Henry had got it. And now Elizabeth, their beautiful art teacher. Henry had got her. Henry flushed with pleasure and disclaimers about his success. Elizabeth thought Simon was a very good friend, because actually neither Henry’s flat nor his office were as good as Simon’s.

After the party, Henry and Elizabeth walked in the crisp night air arm in arm and chatting companionably.

‘Isn’t Simon marvellous? I don’t know how he does it, just assembles people and pours them drinks, a few little savouries … and it’s a party… .’ Henry sounded admiring and envious.

‘Wait until we have our own place, we’ll give parties like that all the time,’ she said, struck at how quickly he had been echoing her own thoughts.

‘I’d love that,’ he said, his face lighting up. He stopped under a street light and kissed her. ‘We’ll have great times,’ he said.

‘Sensational times,’ she said.

‘Would you come home with me now?’ he asked. He had been about to take her home to Clarence Gardens; she had argued that it would take him too long, the journey there and back, but he insisted always on seeing her to her door.

‘But it’s in the other direction,’ she said, confused. ‘If I were to go back with you and then go to Clarence Gardens. It would take all night… oh, I see.’

‘Yes, I want you to stay with me,’ he said, face full of hope. ‘Why not?’ she said suddenly.

They lay in the narrow single bed sipping mugs of hot chocolate. Henry had got up and made them and brought them back to bed.

‘It’s not a very comfortable bed.” ‘It’s fine, it’s friendly,’ she said, laughing. ‘Yes, well, when I was getting furniture for this place, I thought it might be rather overoptimistic to get a double bed, you know. Tempting fate.’ They laughed together. ‘I feel I’ve been with you always,’ Henry said. ‘So do I,’ said Elizabeth. ‘It’s just right, somehow,’ he said.

Elizabeth laid her head on his shoulder. ‘You are the dearest and most loving man in the world, I can’t tell you how happy I feel.’

‘I was afraid … I thought that maybe… you know, I was worried that… .’

‘I don’t know what complicated process is going through your mind,’ said Elizabeth, who thought that Henry might

 

be about to look for some reassuring comparisons, ‘but whatever it is I want you to know that I feel safe and happy and loved … and you are my man forever and ever.’ Henry sighed with happiness and content.

Johnny and Elizabeth did the books for Stefan once a month. They had always treated themselves to an evening out when the figures were finished. It had become a little ritual.

‘I suppose all that is a thing of the past?’ Johnny said casually when they had put away the ledgers. ‘Home to my gloomy tomato sandwich for me.’

‘Well, I’d like to go out to supper, we usually do, don’t we?” Elizabeth said.

‘But what about Faithful Henry?’

‘What about him?’

‘Won’t he mind?’

‘Why should he?’

‘Good,’ said Johnny. ‘Hang on, I’ll get the car.’

‘Is good to see you Mr Stone,’ said the waiter in the little Italian restaurant. ‘I was afraid you an’ the young lady had a quarrel, you no come here.’

‘No quarrel. She’s going to marry another man. But we haven’t had a quarrel.’

‘You make a joke, Meester Stone.’ The waiter looked confused; he knew that somehow Johnny was making a fool of him.

‘Shut up, stop embarrassing people,’ she said. And after that they relaxed and talked about Stefan and the amazing woman with all that old glass who came in to sell it to him bit by bit, and how Anna was jealous because she thought the woman must secretly hanker after Stefan. They laughed over the contents of a house which had been offered to them, where nothing was more than five years old … a brand new bungalow with modern furniture, which had, not unnaturally, displeased its owners. Johnny’s flat was nearby.

‘Can I presume this eminently reasonable man’s tolerance will include your coming home for a nightcap?’ he asked elegantly.

‘I never checked, but mine doesn’t,’ she said lightly.

It was cold and windy in the street.

‘Well, goodbye then, my little chick,’ he said and kissed her on each cheek.

Elizabeth didn’t know why she felt so furious as she struggled against the wind and rain to the bus stop. After all, Johnny had very rarely driven her home to Clarence Gardens, nor collected her either. But here was something calculated. You don’t come home to bed with me so you are left out in the cold and rain. She caught the last bus and did not feel at all in the mood for a chat.

‘Coldest weather we’ve had for years,’ said the conductor.

‘Yes,’ said Elizabeth, telling herself she had no right to feel so angry with Johnny. He was sticking to his rules, it was she who had changed the pattern.

‘Not been a day as bad since 1895, did you know that?’

She smiled at him, it didn’t hurt to be pleasant, she told herself. ‘Where did you hear that?’

‘It was in the papers, you must have been up in the moon, or in love, if you didn’t see it. Was it in love?’

‘That’s right,’ she laughed.

‘Well, he shouldn’t let you come home on buses alone at this time of night. Next time you see him, tell him that from me, won’t you.’

‘Yes I will,’ said Elizabeth wondering how it appeared that almost everyone in the world, including strange bus conductors, thought that she was in love with Johnny.

… If I stop once I’ll never start again and you are right, you make all the running, you tell me everything and I’m the one who is buttoned up. So. What do I do all day? Now I work back in O’Connor’s again, and I’m happy. What used I to do all day? Cry, wander around the house, cry more. Wash my face, go in and see Mam. Come home. Wait for Tony.

What do we do when Tony gets home? Well that depends. If he comes home before midnight we usually have words. That’s not often. He is drunk, and bad-tempered, and the reason he has come home is because no

 

better alternative presented itself. No party with Shay, no session at the hotel. He says I am nagging and I am, I say he is a drunk and he is. Then we go to bed. But most nights he does not come home while I am awake, I go to bed at midnight usually. Or he doesn’t come home at all. We do not entertain people. I used to have his mother to tea but the pretences are over now, even with her. We are not invited to other people’s houses. Tony may be invited to other people’s houses, at two a.m., but if so he doesn’t tell me, and I don’t think he remembers.

What’s next now, sex. I think Catholics are allowed to talk about it, that is if they have it. I haven’t even known what it is like so I’m in a poor position to discuss it. Our marriage had not been consummated. We have never done it. Not once. I don’t know why I think it’s because Tony is impotent. It may not be that, it may be that we just didn’t get round to learning about it properly at the start, and then Tony became such a drunkard that he couldn’t manage it anyway. But there it is. You ask me do I enjoy sex, I don’t know, I’m sure I might. Everyone else seems to. Do I intend to have children? Well there’s no rule saying that a star couldn’t appear over Kilgarret and another miracle happen, but so far the Holy Ghost hasn’t arrived with any messages for me.

Mam isn’t at all well. She won’t admit it, but she has some very bad days where she looks very yellow and not well. She says it’s the weather, or the change of life or indigestion. But I wish she’d see a doctor. I want everyone to see doctors, as you can see. Dad’s fine, overworked, he’s glad to have me back. He picks rows with Eamonn over nothing; I wish I could tell him what real causes there are for rows but I begin to breathe a word against Tony and they all shut up. Maureen’s looking like a woman of seventy she’s

not thirty-two yet, and honestly she’s like an old woman. The Dalys are a crowd of devils really. Niamh is home about every second weekend with a college scarf and a smirk on her that would drive you up the wall. She and that friend of hers, Anna Barry, think they’re the cat’s pyjamas just because they’re at UCD. I said to her very cattily that we could all have gone to UCD if we’d wanted to and that she was making herself foolish going round pretending she was an intellectual and a genius. She said, truthfully of course, that none of us had the brains to get in there, and I must say it’s very galling that snotty little Niamh is the one who’s going to be a graduate. You were right all those years ago, I should have, I should have but

then there are so many things that I should have, and more important, things that I should not have done. And Donal’s fine. Did I tell you that the Moriartys are terribly pleased with him, and he’s almost like a medicine man in there behind the counter? I heard a woman coming to consult him about ointments the other day wouldn’t

have Mr Moriarty at all, had to speak to the young gentleman in the white coat who cured her baby the last time. Donal loved it, of course.

Things will not get better. They will only get worse. I am expected to cover up for Tony’s drinking. If he doesn’t look well in public, people blame me, I swear it. I’m not being a good wife to him, not looking after him. Do you remember that Doctor Lynch years ago? I honestly do remember people said that it was his wife’s fault because she was a sourpuss and she didn’t give him a good home. She’s dead now but I’d like to go up to the churchyard and dig her up and apologise to her for ever having thought such a thing.

I’ll certainly come to your wedding. I hope Tony won’t, I don’t think Mam would be able for it, or Dad to give the time, I think it would fuss Maureen to death, but she might like to be asked to show off to the Dalys. I’d hate Niamh to go, she’s had far too much in life already without being invited to a smart London wedding. Donal would adore to go, he would love it. So please make sure to ask him.

I’ll post this before I reread it and decide that I am mad —

love, Aisling

They found the dream flat. It was on the top floor but that didn’t matter. They were young and strong, they told each other, and if ever the funny little lift did break down, they

 

could manage the climb. It had big rooms with high ceilings, a huge living room and dining room opening into each other. ‘For our elegant dinner parties, Mr Mason,’ Elizabeth had laughed. A huge bedroom with bathroom attached. ‘For endless weekends without getting out of bed, Mrs Mason,’ Henry had said, putting on a music-hall leer. There was a big kitchen, and three other rooms. A study, they agreed, a guest room and a nursery. When the regulation boy was followed by the regulation girl they would think again: either change the study or move to a house with a garden.

‘By that time you’ll be the senior partner … we can probably have a weekend cottage as well,’ Elizabeth said teasingly.

They held hands in the spring afternoon and walked around their new home. Henry had been opening and closing doors happily. ‘I do hope so,’ he replied soberly.

‘We are going to be ridiculously happy here, you and I,’ she said.

After the terrible letter from Aisling Elizabeth had held herself back with an effort. She wanted to telephone, she wanted to write back an outpouring of sympathy. She was even tempted to find an excuse for a visit. But something made her feel that Aisling should have a cooling-off period. So she replied with a mildly sympathetic note about things seeming to be bad, but perhaps they were not quite as bad as they sounded. Elizabeth said she would wait to hear more news before agreeing that life was as black as Aisling seemed to think.

This appeared to have been the right course. A few weeks later there was a very cheerful letter. Tony had taken the pledge. He had gone to some priest in Waterford who was a marvellous man for getting people off the drink. This priest had been a two-bottle-a-day man himself once and now he was marvellous. He even offered Tony a drink while he was talking to him, and Tony had taken one but refused the second. He had agreed that it was ruining his life. He had come back to Aisling like a lamb. There had been no plans to have the other matter investigated, but now that the drink problem was over perhaps that would sort itself out. Aisling sounded very happy. She said that Tony had been paying far more attention to his work and that there were a lot of things that needed to be done to Murray’s. They were both happy and busy again, and looking forward to coming to London for the Wedding of the Year.

‘I brought that girl up very nicely. Look at the fine letter she’s written,’ Eileen showed it to Sean with a pleased smile.

‘It’s from Elizabeth, I thought it was from Niamh.’

‘Niamh!’ Eileen snorted. ‘That one, it’s very few letters we get from her unless she wants something… no, this is about her wedding.’

‘You’re not suggesting we go across the whole way to England for it now are you? Holy God, Eileen you get tired enough coming back up here from the shop, and there’s no way I could find the time, no it’s not possible.’

‘Read it you clown,’ she said affectionately. ‘She knows all that, that’s what I mean, didn’t I bring her up nicely, she’s a credit to me.’

Elizabeth had written that she and Henry were so looking forward to a good representation from the O’Connor clan, but she wasn’t going to insist that the grownups came. They’d have to talk to Father all the time for one thing and that would simply not be worth coming over to London for; whatever virtues Father had, small talk was not amongst them. She said she didn’t want to interrupt Niamh from her studies, she knew Eamonn would hate it, but perhaps Donal and Maureen might like to come… she was looking for their views on this.

‘Well, that’s very sensible of the girl,’ Sean said. ‘Maybe Maureen would like to go, would Brendan go with her? It might cheer the pair of them up. I don’t know whether Donal would have much interest though… .’

‘Donal would give his eyes to go … we’ll see about Maureen. I hope the child has a nice day for herself. I would go, I would really, but I get that tired if I do anything. …’

‘Ah, stay where you are Eileen, and don’t worry about the

 

tiredness, it’s been a divil of a summer, everyone’s exhausted with the heat.’

It had been a divil of a winter too. Eileen had been tired for over a year.

Maureen thought about the invitation for a long time. Brendan didn’t want to go, but there was nothing to stop her going on her own, he said. No, of course it wouldn’t be too expensive, she must go if she really wanted to. No, they could easily find the money. Yes, he had been putting a bit by -what for? Well for a bit of a holiday for them all next year. Maybe a house in Tramore for two weeks.

Now a house in Tramore wasn’t really a holiday, it would mean that Maureen would have to cook and clean and clear up for the family plus Brendan’s mother and his aunt. That wasn’t exactly what Maureen thought of as a holiday. A slightly rebellious streak came to the surface.

‘Yes. It would have been nice, but if you’re sure you don’t mind we having the money I think I would like to go to London. It’s the rest, you see, as well as the change, no four children to look after for a few days.’

Brendan did some rapid thinking. ‘Oh you must go, that’s definite. I hadn’t fixed it about a house in Tramore. We could consult of course, maybe if we all went to a guesthouse for a week instead … what would that be like? There’d be no cooking or anything for you in a guesthouse. But if you’re dead set on going to London… .’

A week in a guesthouse, now that was a proper trade-in. That was worth losing the wedding over. Maureen wrote a long letter to Elizabeth and thanked her warmly. She said that Elizabeth had always been very generous to her, and she still had the beautiful bon-bon dish which she had sent her for her wedding all those years ago. She said that another reason why she was sorry to miss it all was that she would love to have seen what an atheist wedding was like. Now she would never know.

Elizabeth had booked a restaurant room for the reception. It would have been far nicer to have had the group to lunch at home, but so many things were against it. Clarence Gardens, Father, Father and Harry. Neutral ground was far better.

Mrs Noble in the restaurant had never met a bride as composed and businesslike as Elizabeth. Here was a young woman with whom it was a pleasure to do business, she said several times. She had suggested a charge of thirty shillings a head. Elizabeth had pointed out that through this wedding she would be introducing a lot of possible clients, her husband’s guests would include lawyers and businessmen, and on her own side she would have the artistic world. Mrs Noble might see fit to reduce the price in the hope of making new contacts.

Mrs Noble thought not, she thought that thirty shillings

was a good price.

Elizabeth pointed out that Mrs Noble might take into account the bottles of sparkling wine which would be ordered on top of the regular rate; on each of these bottles Mrs Noble would make a profit.

Mrs Noble said that she might just make a small profit on the whole undertaking if she were to charge a guinea a head. At this stage both women smiled and shook hands, and Mrs Noble threw herself whole-heartedly into making the occasion a success.

Elizabeth confided that she was paying for this herself: there would be thirty guests, and she paid in advance. She did not want a sit-down meal, she wanted people to pass through constantly, offering drinks and the hot sausage rolls, the plates of chicken and ham, the wedding cake and the coffee. Mrs Noble seemed to understand.

‘Will it be a bit difficult?’ she asked sympathetically.

‘A bit.’

‘Second marriage is it? Divorces and exes and so on?’

‘No, only one divorce, my Father, my stepfather will be here… but there’s not an easy mix … or maybe everyone thinks that.’

‘Everyone thinks it dear, but hardly anybody says it, that’s why you’re streets ahead.’ Mrs Noble was positively motherly. ‘We’ll give you a great day dear, just you see.’

 

‘I’m looking forward to meeting Aisling, I’ve met all the other people you like … Harry, Stefan, Johnny, Anna. Aisling’s a funny name though.’

‘It means a dream or a fairy woman in a dream. I forget now, I just think of her as that name. I never heard anyone else have it. I hope you’ll like her. But it really won’t matter if you don’t.’

‘What on earth do you mean? Of course I’ll like her. I’m sure I will.’

‘No, I wasn’t trying to be hurtful, I mean that before she got married, she said she hoped and hoped I would like Tony and that he would like me. And, well, to be truthful we didn’t all that much.’

‘Well that’s not your fault. Tony’s a drunk isn’t he?’

‘Yes, but Henry can I ask you, however excited and relaxed and friendly we all become, let’s not say anything about that… .’

‘Darling girl, of course I wouldn’t… .’

‘I know, I know. It’s just that I’ve told things to Aisling that she has never told to a soul, and I want her to think that I’ve respected all she said too.’

‘But telling me doesn’t count.’

‘Not to me it doesn’t. I tell you everything, my love, but it would hurt Aisling if she knew I’d breathed a word. Anyway he’s cured now, he doesn’t touch a drop she says, we’ll have to get Mrs Noble to serve some lemonade.’

‘An Irishman who doesn’t drink. There’s a turn-up for the books!’

‘Henry that’s exactly the kind of remark I’m afraid you might make!’

‘Oh, don’t be an idiot darling, of course I won’t. I tell you I’m looking forward to meeting them.’

‘Aisling will know Father, and Stefan and Anna — and Johnny of course. From her last visit.’

‘Oh did you know Johnny all that time ago?’

‘Yes, I knew Johnny when Aisling was over here last.’

‘What are you going to wear to the wedding?’ Maureen asked Aisling.

‘Do you know, I’d never given it a thought,’ Aisling said. ‘I’m very glad you reminded, me. We might stop in Dublin and get something. And I’d better get Tony respectable.’

‘Isn’t Tony always respectable?’ Maureen sounded envious of the ability to buy clothes if they were needed.

‘He is not. When he was on the jar he used to look like a pig when he came home sometimes, half his suits are ruined, you

know.’

‘Aisling, don’t talk like that about your husband.’ ‘Maureen, you know Tony used to be pissed six nights out

of seven, I know it, why pretend it didn’t happen?’

‘Oh I don’t know. It sounds very coarse the way you put

it.’

‘It’s a lot more coarse taking it all for granted that he should come home maggoty drunk. No, he’s fine now, thank God, and please God, while we’re at it, it will last. But I’d be very hypocritical pretending to my own sister that my husband wasn’t in the horrors of drink until a few months ago.’

Maureen was uneasy. She didn’t like this way that Tony was being discussed. ‘He’s very good to you Aisling, don’t ruin it by being too high and mighty. He lets you go on working in Mam and Dad’s, though what you want to for I’ll never know.’

‘I love it, it’s something to do, I earn good money which I put in the post office. Elizabeth taught me about saving. She was always very good, you know. That time I went over to London to see her she told me I was mad not to save. Do you know, all the years she lived with us in the square, she used to be mortified because Mam and Dad gave her pocket money … ? They never gave it a thought, but she was embarrassed every week, she told me that. And she was only a kid often or eleven or whatever.’

‘She’s very nice, I hope she’ll be happy. I do wish I could go to the wedding, I really do… .’

‘You know I’d give you the money,’ Aisling said eagerly. ‘Go on, what else am I saving for except things like this? I’ll give you the fare. Please take it.’

‘I can’t, it’s not really the money, it’s the fact of going … you don’t know Brendan.’

 

‘He keeps saying you can go.’

‘Yes, but___’

‘Why not tell him you won the money on a horse … ? Then he wouldn’t mind you having it, he won’t be able to say that your sister gave it to you. Let’s look up a race and see what won and say you had five pounds on it.’

Maureen screamed with laughter. ‘I had five founds on a horse… oh, Aisling, will you stop! He’d have me taken off to the county home in five minutes!’

Simon said that it looked as though they had timed their wedding to coincide with a war — things looked very dicey in the Middle East. Elizabeth told him to stop being a scaremonger. Henry began to look anxious when Simon spoke like this.

‘Well, it makes sense, Henry, Nasser knows what he’s at, and the French troops aren’t all sitting in Cyprus for the good of their suntans are they?’

‘But there’s not going to be a war. I mean, they wouldn’t -or if they did, we wouldn’t — would we?’

‘We need the Suez canal, it’s as simple as that. Britain didn’t stand by in 1939 and let people walk over Europe, it’s not going to stand by now. Mark my words, everyone’s ready

for it___’

‘Oh I don’t think… .’ Henry looked so distressed that Elizabeth decided it was time to interrupt.

‘No I don’t think either, and I read the newspapers just as thoroughly as Simon. Neither of us has confidential chats with Anthony Eden, but nothing is going to happen. People are not ready for it. It’s only ten years since there’s been a war, nobody wants another one. Come off it Simon, just because you want to remain a gloriously free bachelor there’s no need to start rumours of wars once any other bachelor is wise enough to go and get himself married… .’

‘Were you always so sharp and witty, even when you were a little girl?’ asked Simon, teasing.

‘No,’ said Elizabeth. ‘No I was very mousy actually.’ ‘Oh, come on, we’d never believe that,’ Simon said.

‘I can’t imagine you mousy, a beautiful blonde like you,’ Henry said.

‘Really I was so timid and shy. I was for ages, I got a bit less mousy at Kilgarret, I think. But it was only when Mother left home that I stopped being… so… well, so much part of the wallpaper.’

‘I suppose we should all be pleased that she did leave home in a way,’ said Simon.

Henry frowned, that might be going a bit too far. But Elizabeth didn’t seem to think so.

‘Yes, it’s odd, I do think that more people benefited by Mother leaving home. Even Father. They wouldn’t have become any happier, only more miserable had she stayed. I never thought that I would hear myself saying that, I cried so much when she left I thought my eyes would fall out of their sockets … my face ached with crying.’

‘Oh Elizabeth, my poor Elizabeth,’ Henry said, reaching for her hand. ‘What a terrible thing to do to a child … poor Elizabeth.’

Simon looked upset too.

Elizabeth wondered what she had said that sounded so sad. It had all been true.

Ethel Murray had sent a hundred pounds to the priest in Waterford in order that his good work could be continued. She thanked him warmly and said that her son’s cure had been miraculous. To her great annoyance the priest had sent back the hundred pounds. ‘It’s very kind of you and I know you meant well,’ he had said in his letter, ‘but I would prefer you to give this money to some charity in your own town. I didn’t cure your son, your son isn’t cured any more than I am, he has only agreed to stop drinking if he can. Please realise that if he does go back to drink again it’s not because he is an evil man or uncaring, it is because the lure of it is too strong to resist. I am afraid every day when I wake up that I may be drunk by night time.’

Mrs Murray was very piqued; she showed the letter to Aisling ‘He’d have done better to have kept it, I suppose, and

 

just sent you a thank you note. He’s being too honest.’

‘But he’s being far too pessimistic. Tony’s marvellous -he’s totally cured now. It’s a miracle. I’m not afraid to say to you Aisling that I thought one time that he was really dependent on the bottle.’

‘Well, he was,’ Aisling said, surprised that Mrs Murray seemed to think that it could have been otherwise.

‘Oh no dear, he was not. Doesn’t the fact that he hasn’t touched a drop for over six months prove that he couldn’t have been dependent on it?’ She smiled triumphantly.

Mam had been pleased when Tony gave up drinking; pleased but not surprised.

‘I always told you that you were exaggerating your problems, child. Now that he has a nice clean house and a civilised wife to come back to, isn’t he grand?’

‘I don’t think it had to do with the nice clean house, Mam, though I am grateful to you for all your help that day.’

‘I was doing it for myself, not for you. Do you think I wanted Ethel Murray going around the town saying I’d reared a tinker?’

‘He’s not looking forward to the wedding at all, he’s said, oh, a whole lot of times, that it’s nonsensical going to a wedding when you can’t drink. …” ‘Well, can’t you go on your own … ?’ ‘I could and in many ways I’d prefer to, but you know that priest said I shouldn’t let Tony slip out of normal life. There wasn’t any help for him in just turning into a hermit.’

‘And he’ll enjoy it when he gets there.’ Mam sounded hopeful.

‘He doesn’t enjoy anything much, he sits there, you know, and he’s not a reader, Mam, he wouldn’t sit in a room peaceably and read like you and I would do, he doesn’t even read the paper with energy the way Dad does. He sits there looking in front of him.’

‘Well, I suppose you talk to him, presumably you don’t sit in silence.’ Eileen sounded a little anxious.

‘Oh I talk, it seems a bit empty though, he’s thinking of Shay and the lads and the laughs. There’s no centre to his days now.’

‘With the help of the Lord when you have children that will all change. If you knew what it does to a man your

father, now, when Sean was born, I remember it well back in 1923 he

was like an eejit running round with him in his arms and playing games. He’d got a bit used to it when you came along and the others but he was thrilled with the lot of you. Tony will be just the same.’

‘Mam, I’ve tried to talk to you about this, but you always change the subject. There won’t be any children.’

‘Now, you are not to say that, Mrs Moriarty was ten years married before she… .’

‘I could be married a hundred and ten years. Mam… .’

‘I tell you … you don’t know … now you’ll say I’m just being a Holy Mary about all this, but the Lord does take an interest in every single one of us … and he knows when the time is right. Look now at the way Tony doesn’t drink any more, it could be that the Lord was waiting until all that had been sorted out… .’

‘Mam, I beg of you, don’t talk to me about what the Lord is waiting for or not waiting for, what I am waiting for is to have a normal sexual life with Tony. We don’t have one.’

‘Dear, dear, dear, now what is a normal sexual life, as you call it? There’s far too much written in books and magazines nowadays, it’s only making people uneasy … is mine normal, is hers normal? What’s normal in the name of the Lord?’

‘I suppose having sexual intercourse is normal, Mam?’

‘Yes, well, that’s what we’re talking about.’

‘Not in my case we’re not.’

‘Well, maybe all this drink and giving it up took a greater toll.’

‘Not ever, Mam, not once, not once since we got married.’

‘Ah no, no Aisling, you’re not telling me that?’

‘Yes, very simply that’s it.’

‘But why ever not… what… ?’

Aisling said nothing.

‘I don’t know what to say,’ Mam stopped.

‘Nobody does.’

‘You haven’t been discussing it with people, surely?’

‘No, I mean Tony won’t talk about it, I don’t know what to

 

do. I did write once, oh ages ago, and told Elizabeth about it, but she didn’t really refer to it again, except to say it would probably work out all right.’

‘And it will,’ Eileen grabbed at this slender thread. ‘She’s quite right, it will. You’re a sensible girl, and you won’t be the type to take this … well, take it wrong, you know.’

‘Were you going to say I’m not the type to take this lying down?’ Aisling laughed mischievously.

‘I was, as a matter of fact,’ Eileen said and they both laughed for a moment.

It was the moment that Dad came into the kitchen. ‘Well, that’s cheerful. Will you share it with me? I need a laugh after dealing with that thick brother of yours.’

‘Dad if I told you what we were laughing about you’d drop down dead on the floor, so I won’t,’ said Aisling. ‘Listen, I’m off home, Mam can I take that cake of soda bread for our tea?’

‘You cannot. Make your own.’

‘Oh Mam.’

‘Take a quarter of it. Easy now, that’s a big quarter.’

‘Oh, there’s nothing as hungry as a man that’s given up the drink.’

‘Go home, Aisling.’

‘All right, Mam. I’m going.’

Aisling sat between them on the plane. Every pocket of air, every little lurch seemed to go through her like an electric wire. She had Donal trembling on one side and Tony shaking on the other.

‘Nothing to worry about,’ said the air hostess. ‘Just a little turbulence. Captain says it will only last for a few minutes.’

‘Yes,’ said Tony, ‘but will we last for the few minutes?’

The air hostess smiled. ‘Of course we will. Can I get you anything, a drink?’

‘No thank you,’ said Aisling.

‘Yes, can you get me a large Power’s?’ said Tony.

‘Tony, no please …’ she began, but the air hostess had gone.

‘Just for the journey, God Almighty what kind of gaoler are you? Just to steady my nerves until we’re on the ground.’

‘Please, Tony, anything, an aspirin, I’ve got a sleeping pill, you have that, and a cup of tea, please… .’

‘Oh shut up, Ash, shut up for God’s sake… .’

The hostess had brought a little tray with the miniature bottle on it and a glass of water; she smiled at the three of them.

‘Only one of you having a drink? Nothing for the rest of you?’

‘Please take it away, please,’ Aisling said to her. ‘My husband isn’t well, he’s not supposed to drink.”

The girl looked bewildered, she looked from the man to his wife and back again, not knowing what to do. She looked at Donal for some kind of middle road. Donal was embarrassed. He knew that Tony didn’t drink these days and he had heard tales of his drinking in the past. But really, Aisling was behaving disgracefully in public. Imagine saying that Tony couldn’t have a drink.

‘Aisling,’ he hissed, ‘stop making a scene, for heaven’s sake let

Tony have a drink, one isn’t going to kill him.’

Tony had his hand out; he took the drink and paid for it. Aisling said nothing. She didn’t speak at all to either of them for the rest of the journey, not even when Tony pressed his little bell and asked for the same again.

As they came through the customs at Heathrow, Donal said sadly, ‘Are you going to keep this up the whole time, Aisling? It’s going to spoil the visit for all of us.”

‘Too right,’ said Tony.

‘It’s my first time abroad, please Aisling, get back into a good humour otherwise it’ll all be desperate.’

Aisling’s eyes filled with tears. ‘I am a selfish cow. You’re quite right. Tony I’m sorry I made a scene on the plane. I really am.’ Tony was surprised.

‘No, you’re both right. I behaved badly. You said you only wanted a drink because of flying and I had to be so rigid I said no. I’m very sorry. It’s over now, is it?’

‘Yes, well of course,’ Tony said.

 

Donal relaxed. ‘I’ll say one thing about the pair of you, when you have a row you make it up handsomely,’

Aisling gave Tony a peck on the cheek. ‘Now that’s to prove it’s over.’ She picked up a case purposefully. ‘Now, which way to the bus? We’ve got to show Donal O’Connor London.’

Tony and Donal followed after her as she walked with her little case in one hand and over the other arm, wrapped in cellophane paper, her wedding outfit, the wild silk dress and coat in the striking lilac colour that everyone in the shop in Grafton Street said was sensational. Please God may he not have another. Lord if you are looking after us, as Mam seems to think, will you look after us very carefully just at the moment? I have the feeling that we need a lot of attention.

The papers were full of Suez, much more so than at home. Donal said they seemed to be taking it very seriously. ‘Do you think they will send a force out there?’ he asked Tony.

‘Who?’ said Tony.

The English, the British?’

‘Out where?’ said Tony.

Oh God, thought Aisling, oh God. I know this, I know this path, I’ve been down it before.

People stared as they ran across the room to embrace each other. The girl with the glorious red hair and the green dress had leapt up from the table where she was sitting; she and the pale, blonde girl in a kilt and a black polo neck jumper, who had left the man she was with, held each other away for a moment and looked with delight, then hugged again.

Only then did they remember the introductions. ‘Aisling this is the man, this is the lucky fellow, Henry Mason.’ He was tall and fair; he wore a very formal, dark grey suit, a nice sober tie, a nervous look in his eyes and a big smile waiting to break out.

‘Henry!’ Aisling said, ‘you’re beautiful. You’re quite perfect, I’m delighted with you.’

Henry’s smile did come out and it was a happy one. He seemed quite oblivious of all the people watching them and laughing at Aisling’s over-effusive Irish greeting.

‘And Tony … ?’ he said courteously, looking at the man standing behind Aisling.

‘Oh Tony had to go off somewhere, this is my brother Donal. Donal, salute Henry like a Christian now, before you wrap yourself around your beloved Elizabeth.’

‘How do you do, and may I offer you my warmest congratulations,’ Donal said shaking Henry’s hand, then, as Aisling had encouraged him, he did throw his arms around Elizabeth.

‘I’m so glad to see you, I’m so glad to see you. And if you wouldn’t wait to marry me, well I’m glad you’re marrying Henry.’ It was very touching and bound them all together for

an instant. Then Henry asked, ‘Will Tony be back or shall we go

ahead and order a drink?’

‘Oh let’s go ahead,’ Aisling said lightly. ‘Tony Murray’s movements are very difficult to plot.’

Henry busied himself with a waiter and when he had ordered the drinks Donal asked him what he thought was going to happen in the Near East. ‘Well, I think we should stay a million miles away from it all myself,’ he began.

Elizabeth and Aisling sighed with happiness. They were free to talk, for hours if they needed.

‘You must tell me what’s expected of me at this pagan ceremony tomorrow. Do I have to deny God or anything?’

‘Aisling, where’s Tony?’

‘On the piss, I don’t know where. Forget it, forget him. Tell me what I have to do, do I have to answer responses? Imagine me as a witness at an atheist wedding!’

‘Aisling, do stop calling it pagan and atheist, everyone there thinks they’re Christians of a sort. . , but look, about Tony, do you think we should … ?’

‘I’ll tell you this about Tony, if we can drop the subject afterwards. When we checked in here around five o’clock he said he had to go out and do a bit of business. There is no business — we both know that. So I said, can you just take ten

 

pounds with you, so if you decide to spend everything then only ten pounds goes… .’

‘And what did he say?’ Elizabeth was horrified.

‘He said I was mean-minded, low and suspicious and that I never gave anyone a chance, I always believed the worst of him and never the best. He deliberately took all his money and gave it to me except what he said was a tenner, but I could see was two tenners. Then he bowed and said, “Permission to leave, Major?” to me, and went out. That was just after five and it’s eight now. No word, no message. There won’t be. At best he’ll come home after closing time, maggoty drunk; at worst tomorrow morning maggoty drunk. But I’ll have him in shape for your nuptials. Now, please can we leave him and talk about tomorrow? Who’s going to be

there?’

Elizabeth looked at Henry who was eagerly explaining why he was a Labour voter, and why Gaitskell was right and Eden was wrong. ‘But you’re a professional man, I thought you’d be a Conservative?’ Donal was saying. Elizabeth smiled affectionately at them. ‘Right, I’ll make a list… .’

There wasn’t nearly enough time, not nearly, but it did seem sensible that Elizabeth should go home and get some

sleep.

‘Tell Tony I’m sorry we missed him, but we look forward to seeing him tomorrow,’ said Henry courteously.

‘Yes indeed.’ They waved goodbye from the foyer.

‘Let’s go to Soho, and I’ll point out dens of iniquity to you,’ Aisling suggested.

‘But aren’t you tired?’

‘I wouldn’t sleep anyway.’

‘Suppose Tony comes back.’

‘Let him come back.’

They wandered around in the bright lights and the cosmopolitan crowds and the young men standing at the top of stairways that led down to strip shows. There were bookshops open late and at the back they had sections which had filthy books.

‘How do you know all this?’ Donal’s eyes were out on

sticks.

‘Years ago, years and years I

was much younger than you — I came down here with Elizabeth and her boyfriend that time, Johnny. Johnny told us all these things, we couldn’t believe him. But it’s all true.’

‘What happened to Johnny?’

‘He’s still a friend, you’ll meet him tomorrow.’

Tony came in at one a.m. and the porter helped him to his room.

‘I’m afraid there’s a pound owing on the taxi,’ he said apologetically.

‘Thank you so much.’ Aisling was icy calm. ‘Can you give him twenty-five shillings, and can I ask you to have ten shillings please for a couple of drinks yourself tomorrow? Thank you very much for helping my husband home.’

‘Thank you, lady.’ The porter was pleased there had been no embarrassing scene. ‘I’ll give you a hand getting him on the bed if you like.’

Aisling accepted this willingly, and she took off one of Tony’s shoes while the porter removed the other.

‘Should we try to get him undressed?’ he asked doubtfully.

‘No, I have his good suit hanging up. You are kind.’

‘You’re a great little trooper lady,’ said the porter.

Aisling got up early on the morning of Elizabeth’s wedding. She went to the chemist and bought mouthwash, a bottle of eye lotion, some witch hazel and cotton wool. She ordered a pot of black coffee to be sent up to their room and then from the foyer she rang Elizabeth to wish her luck. She went up to the room and arrived at the same time as the coffee. She took it from the waiter before he could see the spectacle of a man in bed with a suit jacket, shirt and tie still on him. She ran the bath with lukewarm water and wearily pulled back the clothes on the bed.

‘Up,’ she said crisply.

‘What? What?’

‘Up. You can get as pissed as you like after the wedding, I don’t give a damn, but for the wedding you will look right. Up.’

 

Tony tried to move. His head hurt him and he swallowed hard. ‘How did … what happened?’

‘You went out at five o’clock to do some business, the business took somewhat longer than you thought. It also seemed to cost you twenty pounds plus a pound for a taxi from Kilburn, which is where the business seemed to end up.’ She was moving his feet, still in their socks, towards the floor.

‘Ash, will you stop, let me rest.’

‘No, I will not. Get up now and walk towards the bathroom, then start peeling off your clothes one by one and throwing them to me.’

He did it, like a slowly moving clockwork toy. When he was naked she handed him the first cup of coffee and kept them coming even though he gagged and said he could drink no more. She sat on the bathroom chair while he made feeble attempts to wash himself then she put a towel behind his head and told him to lean back.

‘What’re you going to do?’ he asked fearfully.

‘I’m going to mend your eyes,’ she said. As he lay almost drifting off to sleep, she dabbed and soothed and patted his eyes, she soaked the cotton wool in cold water and, after half an hour, the swelling and blotchiness had improved greatly.

‘Ash, I feel dreadful,’ he said pathetically. ‘It’s just going to be this weekend, when we get back home again I swear I… .Just let me have a couple to get me on target again?’

‘As many as you like. After the wedding. …” She handed him his clothes, garment by garment, and with a hotel clothes brush she dusted his shoulders.

‘You’re a fine-looking man, that’s the pity of it.’ ‘Ash, stop horsing about, get dressed yourself… .’ ‘I’m not horsing about, I’m saying the truth, you are handsome and now that you’ve lost all that weight you look very well. Very well indeed. Can’t you take a compliment?’ ‘I feel dreadful, I’m not in the mood for playacting.’ ‘Isn’t that funny, neither am I? Now you still stink of drink I

don’t know why, God knows you should have washed it out of you. Drink this.’ ‘For God’s sake___’

‘Now.’ she went into the bathroom to wash and she heard him frantically trying to open the bedroom door.

‘Shit, the door’s stuck,’ she heard him say.

‘No, Tony dearest, it’s not stuck, I locked it,’ she said from the bathroom as she shook on some expensive talcum powder. She had bought it at the chemist at the same time as all the medicaments; it had made the trip less depressing.

In the taxi on the way to the wedding Donal found them curiously relaxed. If he had been Aisling he would have been very cross indeed that Tony had disappeared last night. Aisling was very peculiar in some ways, here she was laughing in a very friendly way.

‘So that’s the bargain. Three drinks of your choice at the reception, and when we’ve waved them goodbye then you’re on your own … you get miles away from the wedding party and do as you like, for as long as you like.’

‘Why am I being sent away from the wedding party? That’s a bit highhanded.’

‘No, it’s the bargain, you can drink yourself into a pig’s mess like you did last night, you can slobber and pee in your trousers, as you also did last night, I noticed, but not with Elizabeth’s friends, you don’t.’

‘Jesus Christ, what a boss.’

‘Good, now that’s settled. Donal, we’re nearly there, that’s Westminster… we’ll come back here and see it when we’ve time tomorrow maybe, or Monday. Do you see Big Ben, now we know we must get the right time. It’s a quarter to eleven, perfect timing.’

They got out at Caxton Hall, where the sightseers who came to look at weddings brightened up when they saw Aisling’s fiery hair, her lilac outfit and her lilac and white hat. It looked like something glamorous.

‘Is it a film star’s wedding?’ a woman said, pulling at Aisling’s sleeve.

‘No, I’m afraid not, it’s a solicitor and an art teacher.’ The woman was disappointed. ‘But it will be full of glamour, stay around,’ she said.

‘I will,’ said the woman, pleased.

 

Father looked very smart, he was wearing the buttonhole that Henry had brought the night before.

‘Are you sure there won’t be any call for me to make a speech?’ he asked.

‘None, Father, I told you over and over. Simon will make a speech, and that’s it. Henry may say a few words, thank you for giving me to him, and for the reception.’

‘Well, that’s not right, I mean you paid for the reception….’

‘Yes, Father, but that’s not the point. Anyway, you gave me board and lodging here, and educated me and everything, so in a way any money I saved came because of you and that’s you paying for it indirectly, isn’t it?’

‘I suppose that’s right,’ Father was doubtful.

‘Of course it’s right.’ She straightened his tie. ‘How do I look Father, do you think I’ll do?’

He stood away from her and looked her up and down approvingly. ‘Oh yes, my dear, you look …” he paused. Would he say she looked lovely, or beautiful, or neat? What kind of things had he said to Mother when she was all dressed up? ‘You look very …presentable,’ and he gave a little laugh to show that the word was a little joke.

She looked around the hall of Clarence Gardens and in the small mirror caught sight of herself in the cream wool dress and jacket, with the big orchid pinned to the lapel. She pulled the brim of her hat forward and fixed four hairpins in the ends of her hair so that they were guarded against the wind; the hair was meant to flick out not run wild, so she sprayed on a little lacquer. She would take them out when the car stopped at Caxton Hall. Henry was meeting her there with Simon. They had decided to go separately, to make it more formal in a way. And she wanted to have this last journey with Father so that he would realise that he was still special. He had been very silent about Harry coming to the wedding, so travelling to the ceremony with him alone might be some kind of gesture. Elizabeth gave herself a final check and had a last look at the house. In twenty years she had put very little of her own personality into it. It had always been Father’s house. She hoped that the flat in Battersea would be different, Already she and Henry had found furniture and rugs and knick-knacks. All her clothes were there in the old-fashioned wardrobe they had bought, and Henry had moved his things in too. He left his own flat officially today.

Superstitiously they decided not to spend a night there until they were married. It would make it more significant they agreed, and laughed at themselves and each other for

their silliness.

In under an hour she would be Mrs Henry Mason. Did every woman who got married go through this sort of unreality bit just at the last moment? She thought of Henry’s face eager and expectant, and she smiled happily. After all the lonely times in this house, after all the upsets and uncertainties she was finally being rewarded. She was going to marry a man who was goodness itself. That was a phrase Aunt Eileen had used about people who were very kind. What a pity she hadn’t been able to come, and she had forgotten to ask what was actually wrong with her. They had had too many other things to talk about. Aisling was so strong about everything; most women would collapse if their husband had disappeared on the rampage in some strange city. But Aisling took everything in her stride.

‘My dear, I think we should … the taxi has been here for five minutes.’ Father hated waste even though Henry had paid for the taxi.

‘Right, come on, let’s go and get me married and off your

hands.’

‘You were never any trouble to us. Your mother and I had no problems with you. Ever.’ He said it with his back to her as he was double locking the door. Possibly the only compliment he had ever given her. She couldn’t answer him because she was afraid she might start to cry, and anyway the people across the road, the rather prim and proper Kentons, were waving like anything. They had come out to see her go, and other neighbours had too. Elizabeth waved to them all, delighted, and Father smiled as they got into the taxi and went off to get her married.

It was much nicer and much more like a real wedding than Aisling had expected. The nuns had said that registry office

 

weddings were mere formalities at the desk of a clerk or a lawyer — they had only been invented because British people had turned away from all religion, even their own. But this was very impressive, and the registrar was almost as good as a priest when he was asking them did they take each other for lawful wedded husband and wife. Aisling had thought that it was all a matter of mumbling and writing things down in a book.

Simon, the handsome best man, was utterly charming. In a different way to Johnny, he was flowery in his speech, he paid extravagant compliments and told her that her loveliness had not been conveyed in any adequate manner, although to be fair, attempts had been made. Aisling thought this was great fun.

‘You’re the smooth elegant colleague,’ she said triumphantly. ‘Have you met my husband, Tony Murray?’

‘I wish that you had met Tony Murray long after you had met me,’ he said over-gallantly, bowing and shaking hands with Tony who looked very pale and not at all able to cope with such flamboyance at this time of the morning.

The ceremony passed in a flash and as they came out, and Stefan and Harry and Johnny organised the confetti, there was another wedding party waiting to go in.

Henry was smiling so broadly that it looked as if his face would break. Donal was busy taking photographs. Elizabeth looked so lovely, Aisling was amazed. She had always thought that Elizabeth was gentle and pale and blonde and pretty in a pastel way, but today she looked different; even though her outfit was pale she looked colourful. Her face was strong, her lipstick was bright, her orchid was dark purple, her hair looked bouncy, not wispy, her eyes were sparkling. Thank God she’s having a nice day, thank God, after all the awful things that happened to her, Aisling felt. Who would ever have expected a day like this, with her stepfather cheering as well as her father, and Johnny Stone apparently delighted for her too? If anyone deserved a great wedding day it was Elizabeth.

Mrs Noble was waiting for them, a high-necked blouse, a cameo brooch; she almost made herself the unofficial hostess. In one minute she had decided that Harry and Johnny were her best allies and singled them out whenever anything needed to be done.

‘Mr Elton, might I ask you to move that little group near the door down here towards the main body of the room, they seem to be a little left out… .’

And Harry was off like a terrier dog. ‘Hallo. Might I introduce myself? I’m Harry Elton, on the bride’s side… .’ Jean and Derek were shy at gatherings and were delighted with Harry; he introduced them to Stefan and Anna and only when a conversation about old folding draught screens seemed underway did he leave them.

Mrs Noble was vigilant. ‘Mr Stone, can I suggest that you direct the waitress with the wine over there towards the rather sad-looking man?’

‘That’s the father of the bride, you couldn’t cheer him up,’ Johnny said.

‘Oh dear, I see,’ Mrs Noble felt she might have said the wrong thing.

‘He’s a widower, Mrs Noble. Now if you were unattached I’d say you might be able to cheer him up!” Johnny winked at her. Mrs Noble was delighted.

‘You are dreadful, Mr Stone,’ she said, patting her hair.

Johnny got the message though. Elizabeth’s father did look like a wet week. Johnny went over to him and refilled his glass.

‘Elizabeth looks lovely,’Johnny said.

‘Yes, yes.’

‘Very nice, this reception, very generous of you, Mr White.’

‘Yes, well, indirectly, only indirectly.’

In desperation Johnny looked for someone to rope in. Tony Murray was nearby. Johnny filled his glass. He was a handsome fellow, this husband of Aisling’s. ‘Have you met Aisling O’Connor’s husband, Mr White?’ They had, and obviously hadn’t found much to talk about then either. Johnny battled on, and filled Tony Murray’s glass again.

 

With relief he saw that Mrs Noble was organising the food on the tables at the end of the room and he was able to direct them both towards it. Tony Murray said he had to slip downstairs to make a phone call. Fine-looking fellow, but a bit restless, Johnny thought.

Aisling had taken down Harry’s address and promised to visit him in Preston. She was stunned to find herself laughing so heartily with the terrible Mr Elton who had come to take Elizabeth’s mother away. After a while she even felt bold enough to tell him that.

‘I know,’ Harry was solemn for a moment. ‘I think Elizabeth sometimes feels the same. She’s such a good friend to me, but I think she stops now and then and puzzles over it all.’

‘No, she always talks of you with great love,’ Aisling said,

‘Does she now? That’s good to know, she’s a great lass, I think of her as my own daughter. She always loved being over in your place too, mind. She said it was the best time of her life.’

‘We are being polite to each other,’ Aisling looked around for Tony; she couldn’t see him, but he must be in that group which was moving to the food. ‘Elizabeth’s very happy today, she’s delighted with Henry and the whole thing… .’

‘Yes.’ Harry nodded, but his earlier enthusiasm didn’t seem so marked now. ‘Yes, I hope she made the right choice, she says she has, she says she has. I always thought she’d marry Johnny Stone.’

‘Yes, well they both took long enough to consider that one, and it didn’t work out at marrying each other did it?’

Harry laughed. Aisling was a great girl, he thought, a corker to look at too. ‘Yes, but you see Elizabeth’s her mother’s daughter, there’s a flash of Violet in her all the time. I hope this fellow will be enough for her.’

‘Well, if he’s not, let’s hope that history won’t repeat itself, and we won’t see another wicked Mr Elton coming to carry her off in the future.’ They moved towards the table and Aisling saw that Donal was having an animated chat with an attractive blonde, and she noticed with some relief that Tony had come in the door; he must have been to the toilet. He looked a bit better now, less pale and sickly.

Mrs Noble could whisper without even appearing to move her mouth. ‘Mr Elton, do you think we should discourage the waitress from passing any more wine to that rather stocky, well-built man near the door? An Irishman I think.’

‘Thank you,’ said Harry, ‘I’ll see she passes him no more.’

A little later: ‘Mr Stone, just before the speeches begin can I call your attention to that dark-haired Irishman? Over there.’

The Squire,’Johnny smiled.

‘Well, I don’t want to say anything to Miss White, or indeed Mrs Mason as she must be called now, but he does seem to have a half bottle of spirits in his hip pocket. It may be unimportant but I felt you should know.’

Johnny stood behind Tony Murray for a while. Twice he saw the wine glass which had contained white wine until Harry had motioned the waitress away being refilled from a half bottle of vodka which now only had a third of the contents left. He did it very cleverly, with one hand, glass on the table, bottle out, cap off, filling down and bottle replaced in a moment; all the while Tony was looking innocently ahead of him, and with his other hand he was taking little puffs from his cigarette and waving across the room but

there was nobody returning his wave.

Simon was courteous, wordy, flowery and urbane. Those were the words that Aisling thought she would have used to describe him. He didn’t say anything real about either Elizabeth or Henry, it was all little witticisms but people liked them and

indeed he said them very well.

The cake was cut, the champagne was produced, and toasts were drunk.

‘Are you going to make a speech?’ Aisling asked Elizabeth’s Father.

‘Oh heavens no, no, she promised, she said I didn’t have to,’ he looked worried.

‘Go on out of that, she’d love you to say a few words … just a word or two, it would mean a lot.’

‘I don’t think …’ he looked flustered.

 

‘Tell them she was a smashing daughter, and she’ll be a good wife and you’re glad that everyone is here enjoying themselves and it’s a happy occasion.’

‘Is that all I’d have to say?’

‘Certainly that’s all. Go on now, slay them, knock them sideways.’

Father cleared his throat. Elizabeth looked up, startled. It had all been going so well, Father wasn’t going to do anything absurd like saying it was over now? There were still five more bottles of champagne to be passed around.

‘I’d like to tell you all that I am not a good speaker, but I cannot let the moment pass without expressing my gratitude to you all for coming, my hope that you are enjoying the reception. …” A lot of hear-hears at this. ‘And I would mainly like to say that I am very happy that my daughter, Elizabeth, is marrying such a splendid man as Henry Mason, I am sure he will make her very happy and I can tell him that if she is as good a wife as she has been a daughter, he will be a lucky man. Thank you very much.’ It was so simple and unflowery, after all Simon’s complicated and convoluted phrases, that it touched everyone. Glasses were raised again to the bride and Elizabeth had to concentrate very hard on the table cloth to stop the tears coming into her eyes. Fancy poor Father steeling himself to do that, he must have been practising it all the time. Who would ever have thought Father could have thought of just the right thing to say?

Harry had asked Mrs Noble if they could use the piano. She was most enthusiastic, so before Elizabeth was even aware that Harry was on the piano stool he had struck up, ‘For They Are Jolly Good Fellows’, and everyone in the room including Father was joining in. Harry was in his element, he got them singing ‘On Ilkley Moor Baht ‘at’, and to the cries of more, he had ‘My Old Man Said Follow The Van’.

He played ‘It’s A Long Way To Tipperary’, specially for the contingent from Ireland, and then that turned into ‘Pack up Your Troubles In Your Old Kit Bag’.

‘Another Irish song,’ Stefan called. ‘The Irish have the best songs.’

‘I’ll sing one,’ Tony said.

‘Oh my God,’ Aisling turned round to see who could come to her aid. She saw Johnny not far away. ‘He doesn’t sing, stop him,’ she said desperately. Tony said, ‘Do you know Kevin Barry?’

‘No,’ said Harry goodnaturedly. ‘But you start and I’ll pick it up.’

‘In Mount Joy gaol one Monday morning, High above the gallows tree Kevin Barry gave his young life For the cause of Liberty… .’

‘Please Johnny,’ Aisling begged.

‘Hey what about some song we all know?’ Johnny called out.

‘No, let me finish,’ Tony said.

‘Let him finish,’ Simon said. ‘Can’t cut a man off mid-song.’

‘Just before he faced the hangman In his lonely prison cell. British soldiers tortured Kevin Just because he would not tell… The names of those … The names of those …’ Tony looked around irritated. ‘What comes next? Come on, someone must know?’ Everyone looked blank.

‘The names of those …

His something comrades…

And other things they wished to know …

Tell us now or we will kill you …

Barry proudly answered no.’

‘Ash you know the words, come on, you can hold the tune join in.’

Aisling spoke clearly across the room. ‘I can’t remember them, I think you’ve skipped a verse, but, honestly, it’s not; song for a wedding. Hangmen, prison cells, can’t you sing something more cheerful and we’ll all join in … ?’

 

‘It’s important that we finish it,’ Tony said doggedly. ‘There’s another verse:

‘Kevin Barry you must leave us, On the gallows you must die, Wept his broken-hearted mother As she kissed her son goodbye. …”

Harry did a loud crescendo at that point, by way of ending, Johnny started to clap; so did a couple of others and then everyone joined in.

Tony was very obviously not finished, but Harry had a louder voice. ‘Right, we’ve had Ireland’s turn … anyone from Wales … ? Come on, there must be someone from a Welsh choir … ? Or Scotland … ?’ With the heaviest chords he introduced ‘I belong to Glasgow’, and Mrs Noble made sure that the remaining champagne was being poured among the guests.

Aisling said to Donal, ‘Get him out, Johnny Stone will help you.’

‘Aisling, I don’t know… .’

‘Right out of the room. If you want to do something to help I want him right out of here.’ She saw Donal talking to Johnny and Johnny walking over to Tony. Tony was pointing back at the piano; Johnny was making a sign with his hand of a person who had a glass in his hand — he was asking Tony out for a drink. Tony gesticulated towards the bottle of champagne which he could see circulating. Johnny was shaking his head. He was indicating the stairs. Mrs Noble was with them. Whatever they were saying Tony was going like a lamb.

Harry in his role as compere was saying that as the humble pianist he had been informed that the bride and groom would leave shortly so could everyone join in a chorus of ‘My Dear Old Dutch’? He had his arm tightly around Elizabeth’s shoulder and she was smiling at him, Stefan was patting Anna on the hand, and everyone was joining in because Harry had a way of roaming around and catching your eye if you didn’t sing.

Donal put his arm into Aisling’s, and they sang together as Harry swept them back to the beginning of the song again.

‘We’ve been together now for forty years And it don’t seem a day too much… .’

Aisling looked at the door; Mrs Noble and Johnny were standing there singing too. There was no sign of Tony. The goodbyes were being shouted. Elizabeth came over and held on to Aisling.

‘Bless you for coming. It wouldn’t have been a wedding without you.’

Aisling said, ‘I remember saying the same thing to you in Kilgarret. Oh, Elizabeth I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.’

‘What about?’ Elizabeth’s clear expression meant she didn’t know what Aisling was apologising for.

Tony. I’m so sorry, I don’t know how he got that drunk, I watched him like a hawk. I’m so sorry he stood up like that and disgraced himself and us… .’

‘Goodbye, Aisling,’ Henry interrupted. ‘Goodbye, thank you so much for being our bridesmaid, witness. You are good to have come all this way.’

‘Thank you Henry,’ Aisling fingered the little brooch with the pearl in it that Henry had given her. ‘It’s beautiful, I’ll never forget the day.’

‘Oh and say goodbye to Tony for me. I can’t see him,’ Henry said.

‘I spend my time saying goodbye to Tony for people, I think I should say goodbye to him myself… .’

They all went downstairs in a happy troop, and clustered around the car. Elizabeth pecked at Father’s cheek; she had given Harry a hug on the stairs. She was kissed by everyone and when Johnny kissed her very tenderly he said, ‘You’re the loveliest lady I ever met, I always said it and I always meant it. Be very very happy.’

Mrs Noble saw Tony and two men coming out of the bar where she had directed him; he had an arm around each of them. She blocked him from view by pretending great surprise. ‘Hallo Mr Murray. Fancy seeing you here,’ she said, while she could hear the taxi revving up.

‘How do you know who I am?’ Tony growled suspiciously;

 

he felt he was being prevented from doing something he wanted to do, but wasn’t sure what it was.

The two men who were being dragged with him said, ‘Come on back in the pub mate, they close soon.’

‘Yes, we’ll all be in then, everyone’s coming in, in a moment,’ Mrs Noble said.

‘Great,’ said Tony, and re-entered just as the final cheer

saw the taxi off. The crowd were dispersing on the pavement.

Mrs Noble drew Aisling aside. ‘I thought I’d mention that

he is in that establishment across the road Madam, if you

wanted to know.’

‘You’re a brick,’ said Aisling, ‘I don’t want to know. I’m going to take my brother off to the pictures. But thank you for telling me, and thank you for getting him there.’

‘Not at all — a very high-spirited man, your husband.’ ‘Very,’ said Aisling. ‘Listen, what will you do when the pub closes if he tries to get back into your place?’ ‘I’ll tell him the crowd moved on, I’ll point him off towards … where would you like him to head … ?’

‘I’d say the River Thames but that would sound a bit strong. Anywhere at all, he knows the hotel we’re staying at so he’ll end up there.’

‘Poor Aisling, this must be so awful for you, and the last time you saw Elizabeth was your own wedding,’ said Donal as they set off. ‘That’s right.’

‘It must be sad for you … you know your wedding day turning out so great and now this so awful. …”

‘Actually, Donal, my own wedding day turned out pretty awful for me too, but that’s a long story and let’s not tell it now.’ She smiled at him and slowly his white, anxious face broke into a sort of a smile too, and they went off to buy an evening paper and see what film they would go to.