Heart and Soul (46 page)

Aidan and Nora were planning a Sunday lunch party for Aidan's birthday. Again, Carl was stunned to see how little money they had and how things had to be considered carefully before they were
bought. A revulsion for the showy anniversary party came over him. His mother hadn't one ounce of decency in her. He realized that now. Up to this, he had blinded himself to her ways, thinking that his father just needed an easy life. But now Carl realized that he must have been in denial. Someone should have stood up to Rosemary Walsh a long time ago.

“Will you join us for the lunch, Carl?” Nora was ever welcoming. Carl and Aidan had developed a friendship teaching at the same school.

“No, thank you, Nora. I'm not much company these days, and I will have to go home and collect my things sometime. I'd better do it this weekend.”

“You might even make peace with your parents.” It was the first time that Nora had mentioned any friction.

“I have always had peace with my father,” Carl said.

“Yes, but women are complicated. We twist things. Get things wrong …”

“You
don't.” He spoke simply.

“No, but I see it's upsetting you and I don't like to see you so down, Carl.” Nora's voice was full of sympathy.

“I am down because I was so stupid. I met a marvelous girl and I let her get away.”

“Did she like you?”

“I thought so, but I'm such a fool. I'd do anything to have that night all over again.”

“And where is she now, this marvelous girl?” Nora wanted to know.

“In a village in the south of Poland. She doesn't want to talk to me.”

“And when will she be back?”

“They don't think she is coming back.”

“I'm sure she will, Carl. You're a good lad. They're not easy to find.”

“I'm not a good lad, Nora. I'm a clown.”

“We're all clowns from time to time, believe me. I'm only sorry
you're spoken for. I had such high hopes of you and Aidan's daughter from his first marriage. Ah, well!”

Ania walked up the hill with a heavy heart.

She didn't really believe Clara that lots of people missed her. But she was back home now, with a bag full of money for her mother. Hardly an hour had passed when Ania had not been working. It would all be worth it when she saw her mamusia's face take in the amount of the gift.

She hoped that Mamusia would not cry. Ania felt that if she herself started crying again she might never stop.

Fiona and Declan bent over the rings and tried them on her finger.

This one had a lovely setting. That one had huge colors in it whichever way you turned it. Eventually, they picked one that had three little opals in a line.

“That was the very first one you went for. Always a good sign,” said the young man who sold stones all day and was very good with the patter.

“And when will the great day be?” he asked, as he polished the opals one more time.

“Not for ages and ages,” Declan said hastily.

“The end of this summer,” Fiona said.

“That's right, girl. You nail him down,” said the young jeweler, enchanted with it all.

They went to lunch at Quentins and showed the ring to Brenda, who said all the right things and brought them a glass of Champagne.

Then they rang Fiona's parents and told them that the ring had been bought. There was huge excitement and they invited the Carrolls to come for a Chinese takeaway that evening. Fiona wrote
e-mails to Tom and Elsa in California, to David in England and to Vonni in Greece.

She said she was very happy and that she wanted them all to meet Declan.

“Why did you change your mind about the timing?” he asked.

“I think because I saw the mess poor Carl and Ania made of it all and I didn't want us to get into a scene like that.”

“Where's Carl staying?” Declan asked.

“Don't know. Amazing it took him so long to see through his mother.”

“He was keeping the peace for his father's sake,” Declan said.

“You always have the kind word,” Fiona said adoringly, turning her finger to admire the ring again.

Simon and Maud were learning that catering was utterly exhausting.

“I think we may well be burned out by the time we're twenty-five,” Simon said.

“Cathy and Tom survived it,” Maud said, not ready to give up yet.

“Yes, but they were mad about each other,” Simon grumbled.

“Well,
we
get on all right.”

“But we're not
in
love like they were.” Simon worried at it like a dog with a bone.

“God, Simon, suppose we were to get partners that we were
in
love with? Would that make it all right?”

“It would get us over the worst bits, I suppose.”

“I think we should try to attract business. That's what we should be doing.” Maud was very firm.

“Like what?”

“Like Fiona and Declan's wedding. We could present them with a buffet choice and give them a price.”

“But where would we
do
it, Maud? We don't have any venues, as Tom and Cathy call them.”

“We could look for them. Tired tennis clubs? Old schools? There must be
something,
Simon.”

“And if we did find a venue?” Simon was anxious.

“We just come up with a menu.” Maud was confident.

“Brian?”

“James?”

“You've been running this hall already as a café, haven't you?”

“Yes, you know I have.”

“So, what's the problem?”

“What do you mean?”

“If Health and Safety says it's okay as a café, it should be okay for a wedding.”

“But the alcohol?” Brian asked.

“You're not selling alcohol, Brian. You don't have a liquor license.”

“That's what I mean.”

“And couldn't these people bring their own?”

“I don't think it works like that,” Father Brian said.

“It works the way you want it to work. How are you to be blamed if a whole lot of Poles turn up with their own firewater?”

“James, it won't work.”

“My
advice, on very good authority, is to try it and to plead total ignorance,
if
the matter ever comes up.”

Molly Carroll said she really liked Fiona's parents. Maureen and Sean Ryan and Fiona's two sisters, Ciara and Sinead, had made Molly and Paddy very welcome: they were levelheaded people with no airs and graces.

She had thought it odd that they didn't have a roast to entertain their future in-laws, but then it turned out they had only heard about the engagement very late in the day. And that Chinese food had been very tasty.

They had all agreed to stay out of it and let the young people make their own arrangements. Lord knew what kind of ceremony or wedding breakfast they had in mind.

Simon and Maud went to meet Father Brian Flynn when they heard he was looking for someone to prepare a christening party for some Slovaks.

“It's just eastern Mediterranean food,” Simon said.

“No problem. Heavy emphasis on aubergines, stuffed peppers, courgettes, olive oil,” Maud agreed.

“There's a problem about alcohol,” Father Flynn said.

“Oh, we know all about that, Father,” Simon said reassuringly.

“Our mother was the very same way” Maud patted him on the hand.

“Not
me,”
Brian Flynn said crossly. “It's the law, you see. Rules about selling drink.”

“Oh, I see,” Simon said. “I thought you had a problem yourself. So they just have to bring their own, is that it?”

“Yes, I gather that's within the boundaries.”

“Fine. We could provide pitchers of fruit juice and whatever they have on or under the table isn't down to us.”

“Yes. That would work, wouldn't it?”

“From what we hear around the place, that should cover everything,” Maud said. Wise beyond her years.

On the way home from the center, Simon said suddenly, “
That's
where we could have Fiona and Declan's wedding. We've found our venue.”

“You know that you and Fiona are going to be married this year?” Simon asked Declan anxiously.

“Yes, Simon, I
had
remembered that.”

“It's just I wondered, could you tell me is it going to be a religious or a civil ceremony?”

“Oh, well, a bit of a church wedding first, to please the old folk.”

“Yes, but what kind of a church?” Simon seemed very anxious. Declan wondered if he was some kind of zealot.

“Um, well, an ordinary church, I imagine. You know, a Catholic church somewhere.”

“So you haven't anywhere actually planned?”

“No, not yet. Simon, could I ask you, exactly what is this all about?”

“We thought of a terrific place for you to get married.”

“Did you?”

“We did.”

“Why am I nervous about this?” Declan asked.

“There's no need. It's a real church, a real priest and everything.”

“And what's the snag?”

“There isn't one.”

“There always is. Come on, tell me.”

“You have to bring the drink into the place … in paper bags.”

“It's a speakeasy,” Declan said.

“It's nothing of the sort!” Simon was indignant.

“So, what is it?”

“It's a lovely hall, down near the Liffey It's beside a church. It's where new Irish people come. Polish people, Latvians, Lithuanians. I thought you'd love it.”

“And we might well love it,” Declan said. “You haven't booked it or anything, have you?”

“Sort of,” Simon admitted.

Ania's mother had been wonderful. It was so good to have Ania home, she said, over and over. Such a lovely surprise when she had walked through the door.

But there were no pleas to stay. Her mother had more courage than Ania remembered. Nothing much had changed her, while Ania's whole life had altered.

Mamusia asked questions about Ireland. The nice man, Carl,
who had taught her English? He was well? Yes, he was well. And his parents’ fortieth wedding anniversary, that had been good? Yes, fairly good. Not great, but good.

Ania sat with her mother and took out the money she had worked so hard for. This would pay for all the changes in the little house. The changes that would make it into a real business and not a cottage industry. One of Ania's brothers-in-law would do the building work. It could begin any day now.

The light faded and it started to get dark. Mamusia pulled the curtains and turned on the lamps. Ania sat there wondering why she had ever left. Was this whole busy life in Dublin some kind of dream? She was very tired. She hadn't slept since she had fled from Carl's home. She'd been up all night waiting for the first flight to London and then the flight to Poland.

Her mother saw her nodding off and pulled a rug over her knees. She slept on and dreamed that Carl had sent her a big bunch of flowers with a card saying, “I love you, Ania. Come back to me.”

When she woke at four o'clock in the morning, she was very sad it was just a dream. And she went to her bed with tears in her eyes.

“How sure were you when you married Dad?” Linda asked her mother.

“Too sure, as it turned out,” Clara said.

“No, I mean what did
it feel
like when you decided you'd hitch your star to his?”

“We didn't put it that way then, Linda.”

“I'm just asking for honest information.”

“Okay. This is the truth. I fancied him. I fancied him rotten. When he said ‘Marry me,’ I thought of getting away from my mother, who, as you might recall, is pretty difficult. I didn't think people said ‘I love you’ and didn't mean it. I was there like a shot from a gun. Now, is that all right?”

“Not really. Nick and I are wondering if we should get a flat
together. But we're nervous. I mean, we both have perfectly reasonable mothers. I wished you liked Hilary more, by the way.”

“I
do
like her,” Clara said.

“Yes, but only in that sort of head-patting way. And we wonder whether we should get a place of our own in case it sort of exposes all the weaknesses in our relationship.”

“How wise of you both,” Clara said.

“You sound pissed off over something, Clara.”

“No, I don't. I had another lovely day at work. Ania has run away back to Poland because her boyfriend's mother thought she had come to her party as a maid. Frank Ennis is making my life hell on wheels again. Peter Barry's lunatic daughter turned up looking for a job, and I gave her one. Fiona and Declan have decided they are going to get married in an immigrant center on the Liffey I wrongly thought I was coming home to a nice bowl of soup, and I find you booted and spurred and wanting to discuss the meaning of life. Not even vaguely pissed off!”