doing. Did they cancel the conference? Let’s see, you were leaving the airport about four thirty – gosh, did they tell you at London airport or did you have to get into town?’
‘Dee, I can explain exactly what happened but not here and now; what did you really say to Candy?’
‘Oh just that, and she really did say that Rathdoon sounded pretty – ask her.’
‘You didn’t . . . but why?’
‘Because I felt it was all so confusing, all this business of lies and saying one thing and everyone knowing it wasn’t true. Everyone. I thought it would be easier not having to pretend so much.’
‘But . . .’
‘I mean she knows, Candy does, that you’ll be spending Monday night with me, and so now you don’t have to lie to her about that, and I know that you and Candy are having a marvellous tenth anniversary barbecue and that Mr Charles is there and Mr White and all your friends and they were all watching you start up the fire. She told me all that, so there’s no more pretending: it will be much easier from now on.’
‘You didn’t, Dee. You didn’t really say those things to Candy.’
Her voice was very hard now. Very hard. ‘You’ll have to find out now, won’t you.’
‘But she said it was Miss Morris on the phone.’
‘Oh, I told her to say that.’ Dee sounded as if she were explaining things to a child. ‘Much simpler for your guests; I mean I don’t know what you want to tell other people, but we’ll talk about it all on Monday, won’t we?’
‘Dee, please don’t go, you’ve got to explain.’
‘I have explained.’
‘I’ll ring you back.’
‘Ring all you like, this is a pub.’
‘Where are you going now?’
‘I see the real Miss Morris over here in a corner. I think I’ll buy her a gin and orange and tell her all about us. That will make it easier for me to ring you at work; you see, I couldn’t before because she knew me, but now with all this new honesty . . .’
‘What new honesty?’
‘What Candy and I have been talking about.’
‘You’re a bitch, you told Candy nothing; this is a game, some vicious little game.’
‘Hush hush, don’t let them hear you.’
‘Where will you be tomorrow?’
‘I’ll see you on Monday night, as arranged: come any time, straight from work if you like now that there’s no need to hide things any more.’
‘I beg you, tell me what you told Candy.’
‘No, YOU must ask Candy that.’
‘But if you told her nothing then . . .’
‘That’s right, you’ll have walked yourself into it.’
‘Dee.’
‘Monday.’
‘I’m not going to be blackmailed into coming round to you on Monday.’
‘Suit yourself. I’ll be at home then, if I don’t get called away or anything.’ She hung up.
‘If he rings again, Celia, will you say you never heard of me and I haven’t been in all night?’
‘Sure,’ said Celia.
She went back to the house. Fergal was explaining that there came a time in your life when you couldn’t play any more – you had to face up to things.
‘Jesus Mary and Joseph, Fergal, you should have been a philosopher!’ Dee said admiringly.
‘Did you have a drink with Celia Ryan?’
‘I had two large brandies, mother dear,’ Dee said.
‘How much was that?’ Fergal the man saving for a mortgage was interested now in the cost of fun.
‘I don’t know, I only paid for one small one when I come to think of it.’ There were sudden tears in her eyes.
‘Dee, why don’t you and I go for a walk for a bit and let the wedding talk go on to a crescendo here?’ Dr Burke had his blackthorn stick in his hand.
They walked in silence. Down past the chip shop and over the bridge and on to the fork in the road.
It was only coming back that there was any chat.
‘I’ll be all right, Dad,’ she said.
‘Sure I know you will, aren’t you a great big girl and won’t you be a solicitor one day, a fierce terror making them all shake in the district court?’
‘Maybe.’
‘Of course you will, and
‘Dee, I can explain exactly what happened but not here and now; what did you really say to Candy?’
‘Oh just that, and she really did say that Rathdoon sounded pretty – ask her.’
‘You didn’t . . . but why?’
‘Because I felt it was all so confusing, all this business of lies and saying one thing and everyone knowing it wasn’t true. Everyone. I thought it would be easier not having to pretend so much.’
‘But . . .’
‘I mean she knows, Candy does, that you’ll be spending Monday night with me, and so now you don’t have to lie to her about that, and I know that you and Candy are having a marvellous tenth anniversary barbecue and that Mr Charles is there and Mr White and all your friends and they were all watching you start up the fire. She told me all that, so there’s no more pretending: it will be much easier from now on.’
‘You didn’t, Dee. You didn’t really say those things to Candy.’
Her voice was very hard now. Very hard. ‘You’ll have to find out now, won’t you.’
‘But she said it was Miss Morris on the phone.’
‘Oh, I told her to say that.’ Dee sounded as if she were explaining things to a child. ‘Much simpler for your guests; I mean I don’t know what you want to tell other people, but we’ll talk about it all on Monday, won’t we?’
‘Dee, please don’t go, you’ve got to explain.’
‘I have explained.’
‘I’ll ring you back.’
‘Ring all you like, this is a pub.’
‘Where are you going now?’
‘I see the real Miss Morris over here in a corner. I think I’ll buy her a gin and orange and tell her all about us. That will make it easier for me to ring you at work; you see, I couldn’t before because she knew me, but now with all this new honesty . . .’
‘What new honesty?’
‘What Candy and I have been talking about.’
‘You’re a bitch, you told Candy nothing; this is a game, some vicious little game.’
‘Hush hush, don’t let them hear you.’
‘Where will you be tomorrow?’
‘I’ll see you on Monday night, as arranged: come any time, straight from work if you like now that there’s no need to hide things any more.’
‘I beg you, tell me what you told Candy.’
‘No, YOU must ask Candy that.’
‘But if you told her nothing then . . .’
‘That’s right, you’ll have walked yourself into it.’
‘Dee.’
‘Monday.’
‘I’m not going to be blackmailed into coming round to you on Monday.’
‘Suit yourself. I’ll be at home then, if I don’t get called away or anything.’ She hung up.
‘If he rings again, Celia, will you say you never heard of me and I haven’t been in all night?’
‘Sure,’ said Celia.
She went back to the house. Fergal was explaining that there came a time in your life when you couldn’t play any more – you had to face up to things.
‘Jesus Mary and Joseph, Fergal, you should have been a philosopher!’ Dee said admiringly.
‘Did you have a drink with Celia Ryan?’
‘I had two large brandies, mother dear,’ Dee said.
‘How much was that?’ Fergal the man saving for a mortgage was interested now in the cost of fun.
‘I don’t know, I only paid for one small one when I come to think of it.’ There were sudden tears in her eyes.
‘Dee, why don’t you and I go for a walk for a bit and let the wedding talk go on to a crescendo here?’ Dr Burke had his blackthorn stick in his hand.
They walked in silence. Down past the chip shop and over the bridge and on to the fork in the road.
It was only coming back that there was any chat.
‘I’ll be all right, Dad,’ she said.
‘Sure I know you will, aren’t you a great big girl and won’t you be a solicitor one day, a fierce terror making them all shake in the district court?’
‘Maybe.’
‘Of course you will, and
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