Despite the Angels (41 page)

Fifteen minutes later, Lucy heard the car in the drive and went out to the hall, as Martin came in calmly, as though nothing had happened.

“Where were you?” Lucy shoved her arm into her coat sleeve, pushing the ripped lining through so that it dangled. “Oh damn.” She pulled the lining back up the sleeve and held it at the shoulder while she manoeuvred more carefully this time. She buttoned herself up and pulled on a hat. She looked at Martin.

“Well?”

“Looks like you could do with a new coat,” said Martin, “that one is shot.”

“I know I could. And shoes. And just about everything. What are you going to do about it? You haven’t earned a penny for four years.”  She searched through her bag for her keys and went to the door. “Aisling is asleep, but I’m not sure about Robbie. Over to you.” Lucy let herself out into the frosty evening and got into the car.

The restaurant manager came over to David and William.

“Your table is ready, sir.  Would you like to order here, or come through?”

“Order here, please order here.  She’ll be here soon.  Remember, David?  You’ve got an important meeting here any minute” Jotin pleaded.

“We’ve an important meeting…” said David and faltered.

“Yes, in the morning,” said William. “We don’t want to be up too late. I think we’ll come through in a moment.”

“Thank you sir.  When you’re ready”

Lucy drove into the underground car-park and started the zigzagging process of finding a place.

“Just get out and run, you’ve taken long enough getting here as it is.  Never mind parking.  Come on.”  Trynor was exasperated.  Everything took so long.  He and Jotin had put such a lot of work into setting up this evening.  He was tired.  Tired made mistakes.  Careful, that’s why you’re in this situation, lapse of concentration about forty years ago and she was born too late.  Now she might arrive too late again.  No, here’s a place.  Well done.  Now on we go.”

Lucy stepped out of the lift and looked around for the lounge.  She walked down the corridor to her left, following a buzz of conversation and found herself at ‘Barnacle’s Bar’.  She pushed through the throng in search of her group,
Trynor at her heels, shouting unhappily, “No, No, not in here, you’re wasting time.”

“Can I help you?” The floor waitress was young and perky.

“I’m looking for a group.  From the Earlsfort Clinic.”

“Did you try the lounge?   Past reception and straight on.”

“Thanks,” Lucy pushed her way back out of the bar and hurried along the corridor. Why do I feel so worried? It’s only a work meeting. Same old faces. Same old jokes. She came into the lounge and caught sight of her colleagues, squeezed around a rather small table. A group of business men were just standing up from the next table along and moving away.

“Hi, Lucy.
Was the traffic awful?” Her colleagues spread out to take over the table recently vacated and made room for her. “We’ve a few more minutes before the meeting, would you like a drink?”

Lucy looked around vacantly.
She felt terrible, as though she had just been robbed. She checked for her bag at her feet.

“No, it’s all right, the drinks are on the company. What’ll you have?”  Gemma was getting to her feet.

“I don’t know, I’m driving.” A wave of despair ran through her.

“I’ll go now, Lucy.  You don’t know what you’ve just lost.  I’m making you feel bad.  I’ll see what we can do.  Maybe he’ll be around later, after your meeting.  Have a drink.”

“On second thoughts, I’ll have a G and T.  It’ll have worn off by the time I leave.  Might as well.” Lucy leaned back and smiled. She was glad she had moved from the hospital to the private clinic, apart from the small rise in salary. She had a little autonomy, was able to try out some of her own ideas. These were good people.  She felt at home with them.

David looked
at the menu without interest. There didn’t seem to be anything he really fancied, though he felt really hungry, empty even. Yes, there was a huge hole in his stomach, the toast he’d had before coming out must have gone down really quickly. Better have something filling.

“We’d better sort a more foolproof plan the next time and quickly,” Jotin was talking to Trynor in the hall between the lounge and the dining room, “or David will get so heavy Lucy won’t look twice at him, if he’s going to try to fill his emotional void with food.”

“And Lucy is going to get drunk. Oh, Jo, what are we going to do? We have to be more sure things will work and stop them feeling our panic and disappointment. It’s not fair to them, we got them in this mess and we’re not helping them feel good.”

“Well, you have to work on Lucy, to make sure she leaves Martin. Is she anywhere near, yet?”

“Not really.”

“Well, why don’t we talk to all her colleagues’ guides and fill them in? Then some of them could say some things that would make her think?”

“Good idea.”

So Jotin and Trynor went back into the lounge and talked quietly and intensely to the guides who were gathered loosely around and who had thought they were more or less off duty for the evening. Many of them nodded and said ‘see what I can do’ and ‘well, maybe not tonight, but I’ll try’. One of them leaned forward and whispered in a woman’s ear.
Elaine turned to Lucy and asked

“So, are you going to go on the job-share scheme when they bring it in next year? I think it’s a great idea. I’d love to share with you, I know we’d get on really well, be able to work it out between us to suit us both.”

“No, I can’t,” said Lucy, feeling embarrassed.

“Why not? Your kids are little, aren’t they, like mine? I mean, it cuts down on child-minding. After paying that and the tax, it’s hardly worth our while working. I got almost nothing last month. Just do it to get me out of the house.”

“I need the money at the moment. I can’t afford to do fewer hours, ideally I should do more. This is really only a big part-time job anyway. I can’t afford full time child-minding at all. I just juggle things with my Mum and sitters.” Lucy didn’t mention that Martin did not help. Elaine wouldn’t expect him to. Husbands seemed to be creatures whose salaries pushed their wives’ earnings into the higher tax bracket, not people who helped at home. Lucy wondered what Elaine’s husband earned. She plucked up her courage and asked. When Elaine told her, she felt even more embarrassed.

“Why, what does yours earn?” Elaine was on her third drink; the speaker had been delayed.

“Oh, Martin is setting up a business. It isn’t making anything just yet.”

“What does he do?”

“He’s selling equipment to manufacturing jewellers. He did a course in jewellery-making a while ago, found it wasn’t something he wanted to do,”

“Hadn’t any talent.”

“and decided to go into supply instead. He used to be in Sales, so he knows the ropes.”

“Oh, he’ll do well, so.” Elaine took another slug of her wine.

“You weren’t meant to say that bit!”

“Maybe I’ll wait and do the job-share with you when he gets going? Or if you don’t want to, I’ll ask Clodagh.”

“I think maybe you should ask Clodagh,” said Lucy, in a small voice.

“Oh, for God’s sake, would somebody please find me a parking space, quickly?”

Trynor leapt to his feet. “Alert! Alert!” he shouted. “I’ve a chance to Get Through! Everyone with a car on St Stephen’s Green check their person please. Wheewhoo, wheewhoo!!”

Jotin had been chatting with a group nearby. He came over when Trynor started his emergency vehicle noises.

“What’s the fuss, Try? Lucy sick?”

“No,” said Trynor, “she wants a parking space, to get to some sort of class on time and this time she actually asked ‘somebody’ for one. So if we’re quick, I can make contact. David parked on the Green?”

“No, I can’t help directly. He’s in work, went in by bus. But he’s doing routine stuff, doesn’t need me just now, that’s why I’m here gossiping. I’ll come and help.”

Lucy was on her second circuit of the green, wondering if she would be lucky, or if she should try further away. But with the amount of time she had to get to the class and the state of her puff, she’d never run back in time. I should take up some exercise, go back to my badminton, do a keep fit class. Or a get fit class. Maybe I’d get a parking space easier if I was trying to do something really useful, instead of just amusing myself with ‘art therapy’, whatever that is. But maybe I need therapy. I certainly need something therapeutic, something has to change about me, I can’t go on like this. Oh, wait, there’s a woman coming to her car.

Lucy slowed down and pulled in just behind the woman, who was putting several large bags into her boot. Lucy tried to catch her eye, to smile an ‘are you leaving?’ at her, but the woman, aware of Lucy’s presence, turned away feigning not to have noticed and walked back towards the shops.

“Bitch,” said Lucy, “you could have at least looked at me.” She thumped the steering wheel with her fist. “Oh come on,” she said, “somebody, if there is anybody, get me somewhere to leave this car! Or I’m just going to go home and not do the wretched class. Such a waste, after organising Jen to mind the kids. Or maybe I’m not meant to do the class, maybe I’m just meant to sit at home the whole time I’m not working.”

Trynor was running down Grafton Street calling out “parking alert, parking alert, any cars on the Green? Quick response please?”

An elderly guide put his head out of a burger shop. “Your person have to get somewhere?” he asked, “or are you Getting Through?”

“Getting Through, if we’re quick,” Trynor panted, “can you help?”

“I’ll try. Maybe we can get this ‘to go’ instead of sitting down. Carry on with others, though. It mightn’t work.” He turned back into the shop and Trynor heard him urging the young man at the counter to order to take away - 'your meter’s nearly up, you’ll get fined. It’s not worth waiting. Come on, go home quickly…’

Jotin was just inside the door of Switzer’s. He raised his voice:

“Anyone parked on the Green, ready to go, NOW? My pal can Get Through if you move.”  There was a general low muttering
and in three sections of the shop two women and a man looked at their watches and headed towards the door. As the first woman went out into the street, a young man carrying a MacDonald’s bag collided with her.

“Oh, I’m sorry” he said. “Are you OK?”

“Yes, I’m fine” she said.

“Tell her about your meter,” said a voice at his shoulder.

“Oh good, sorry about that. I’ve just realised my meter’s nearly up. I wasn’t thinking,” and he dashed off. The woman looked at her watch again, muttered ‘Blast’ and set off quickly towards Stephen’s Green. Behind her, the other woman, who had left the perfume counter in the middle of trying to decide between two fragrances, stood in the doorway feeling puzzled. Why did I come out here, she thought.

“Because you overheard someone else’s guide talking. You ought to listen to me more and other peoples’ guides less, my scatterbrain. Go on back, we can’t help on this one. Go back and buy perfume.”
  She turned back into the shop, still puzzled and returned to the perfume counter. “Sorry, I don’t know what came over me. I suddenly thought I should move my car, but I didn’t bring the car today! Ridiculous, isn’t it? The early Alzheimer’s again!” She picked up a tester bottle and sprayed the inside of her wrist.

Lucy was driving slowly, wondering whether to go around again, or to go off down a side street and risk getting stuck in the one-way system and maybe still finding nowhere to park. Maybe just one more turn, she thought, and pulled out into the right hand lane to go round the corner. The lights turned red and she was stopped behind three other cars. She watched, feeling helpless as a stream of traffic entered the Green from her left. Probably all going to park in my place, she thought bitterly.

“No, I think we have it sorted. Just get over to the right as soon as you get round the corner.” Trynor looked over to the parking spaces, where Jotin was standing, beckoning towards the group of guides who were ushering their people up the street.

The lights changed and Lucy moved slowly around the corner. As she did, three people reached their cars and realised they were all slightly early, there was time left on their meters.  But moments later, three cars moved slowly out into the traffic.

“Wow,” said Lucy. She pulled up beside the first car and waited. The young man grinned at her as he passed slowly by and waved her into his space with a hamburger. Lucy moved past the space, indicating to back in.

Trynor stood guard on the other side of the space, grinning, arms akimbo, saying to any friends he saw “Parking Angel, hands off this space!”

Another car pulled up and waited for Lucy to park. As she put on her handbrake and turned off her engine, she said “I don’t know if it’s just coincidence, but if anyone just arranged that, thanks.”

“You’re very welcome, my love,” said Trynor. “It worked, Jotin, it worked! And she said thank you! I’m through!”

“No you’re not, not by a long chalk. You’ve started and that’s great. But you’re going to have to be very interactive for a long time before she’ll realise you’re there. Took me forty two years to get through to the last one I managed to contact. Mostly they don’t ever realise. David’s nowhere near.”