The Bright Side (54 page)

“Jackie O?” she said with more amazement in her voice than the situation really warranted
.

I made a big show of looking all around, as if I had no idea who could possibly be calling me. When I caught Carmel’s eye, I tossed my head back in fake delight
.

“Carmel!” I said. “Well, well, well.” I walked over to her table
.

“Fancy seeing you here!” she said, once again with unnecessary wonder
.

“Small world,” I agreed. “How have you been?
”

“Can’t complain, you know yourself. Oh, this is my friend Frances and my sister Julie.
”

We exchanged nods and nice-to-meet-yous
.

“Wrecking the joint, are you?” Carmel said. “Not happy with the service?
”

“That’s me,” I said. “All thumbs and knees.
”

“I wouldn’t be far behind you. So – you escaped from First Premier, did you?
”

My thoughts ran away from me, tripped up, ran again, tripped again. I could say that I had, but that would only lead me into further lies. It seemed simpler to tell the one quick one
.

“No, no. Day off, that’s all.
”

“Good woman. You’ll get as much thanks.” “You said it.
”

“Jackie
works
for
the
same
crowd
I
used
to
work
for,”
she explained
to
Frances.
(Julie
had
immediately
lost
interest
in me
and
was
perusing
the
menu
with
the
look
of
a
woman whose
day
had
involved
too
much
shopping
and
not
enough eating.)
“Oh,
very
good,”
Frances
said.
“The
old
…”
She
mimed fingers
tapping
on
a
keyboard
.

“Yeah,” I said. “Data entry.” Even saying the words made my head droop. “It pays the bills.
”

“That’s about all you could say for it,” Carmel said. She frowned then, afraid she’d been offensive. “I mean, it’s grand and all, you know, it’s –
”

“No, I know what you’re saying,” I assured her. “It’s not exactly challenging. Where did you move on to, Carmel, I forget?
”

“I
went
back
to
child-minding.
A
crèche
in
Artane.
Don’t know
why
I
ever
gave
it
up
in
the
first
place,
to
tell
you
the
truth.
Just
got
fed
up,
I
suppose.
”

I nodded. “A year or two with First Premier changed your mind.
”

“You can sing that one. Is Jenny still there?
”

“Jenny? Jenny will only leave the place feet first. She’s my manager now.
”

Carmel
closed her
eyes and shook
her head,
signalling both sorrow and pity. It was as if I’d told her about the death of a loved one. “I thought that was on the cards when I was leaving. Just goes to show you, doesn’t it? If you didn’t know anything else about the place and someone told you that
that
yoke was a manager, you’d come to the right conclusions, wouldn’t you? End of story.
”

“Yeah. Oh well. What can you do?” Carmel raised one shoulder. “Leave?
”

“Hmmm,” I said, pushing my one little lie a bit further. “The day off has been nice …
”

“There you go. Sure take a few thousand more of them.
”

I smiled. Carmel smiled. Frances smiled. Julie kept looking at the menu
.

“Anyway,” I said. “I’d better head on. Nice to see you again, Carmel. Take care.
”

“All right then,” she said. “Be good.
”

I nodded goodbye to Frances and the top of Julie’s head, and left
.

CHAPTER
23

Eddie’s
street
wasn’t
easy
to
find.
I’d
been
creeping around
the
enormous
estate
for
fifteen
minutes
and
had
driven
down
four
different
cul-de-sacs
before
I
finally
spotted
the
heavily
graffitied
bench
that
he’d
told
me
look out
for.
I
swung
a
left
there
and
imagined
I
heard
a
choir
of angels
when
I
saw
the
words
“Hanley
Gardens”
on
a kerbside
sign-post.
The
house
itself
was
easier
to
locate. Even
if
Eddie
hadn’t
given
me
the
number
–
which
he
had, several
times
–
I
would
have
spotted
it,
no
problem.
It
was the
only
one
with
a
middle-aged
man
standing
on
the
front step
wearing
a
pink
apron
and
waving
both
arms
above
his head
so
frantically
that
he
looked
as
if
he
might
get
airborne. “You
found
me
all
right,”
Eddie
said
as
I
approached
the
door
.

“Yeah. Just about.
”

He stepped around to my side and put his hand in the small of my back. “Come in, come in, please.
”

“What’s with the apron?” I said as I went (or was pushed, rather) inside
.

“You don’t like my tie, you don’t like my apron –
”

I turned to apologise and saw that he was joking. “I’ve been baking,” he declared with some pride
.

“Not for me, I hope.
”

“Well, for me too. But yes, for you.
”

“There was no need to go to any trouble, Eddie.
”

“The buns in the shop were brutal-looking. And besides, we did a bit of baking in cookery class and I never bothered trying it out at home. I hope they’re all right. Scones. They’ll be done any minute.
”

“I’m sure they’ll be lovely,” I said. “Straight ahead?” “Straight ahead, that’s us.
”

I moved on down the hall and into the kitchen. Eddie followed so closely behind that he stood on my heel
.

“Sorry! Sorry!” he said. “Now, take a seat. What can I get you, tea or coffee? Or wine? Vodka? I think there’s gin here somewhere. Beer? Orange juice?
”

“Tea’s fine,” I said. “Vodka and scones wouldn’t go so well.
”

“You might have a point.
”

I
took
a
seat
at
his
doll-sized
kitchen
table
and
tried
not
to make
it
obvious
that
I
was
having
a
good
look
around.
There were
touches
here
and
there
that
were
just
what
I
would have
expected
to
find
–
a
cutesy
kitten
calendar,
luridly
floral
tea-towels,
a
radio
from
about
1976
–
but
generally
speaking, I
was
impressed.
The
place
was
brightly
lit
and
spotlessly clean
.

“This is lovely, Eddie,” I said, trying not to sound surprised
.

“I make an effort to keep it tidy, at least,” he said, reluctant to take the compliment. “And we won’t be in here long, we’ll move into the sitting room in a minute. I just want to keep an eye on the boyos.
”

I looked around for a pair of pet cats or a fish-tank. Then I realised he was talking about his scones
.

“Don’t move on my account,” I said. “I’m grand here.” “Okay then. If you’re sure.
”

As Eddie busied himself making tea and getting plates and cutlery together, I found myself turning mute. I wanted to hear how he’d got on with Margaret after our last phone call but was afraid of setting him off the way I’d set Nancy off. He didn’t seem to mind the silence. I did
.

“So, how did it work out with Margaret?” I asked before very long. “Did she go for the tragedy and mystery angle?
”

He put a teapot and two mugs down the table. “That can wait. What about you?
”

I could have kissed him. “Me? Ah, you know … Things haven’t been … I mean, the last couple of days …
”

The oven pinged
.

“Sorry,” Eddie said. “Won’t be a minute.
”

He was true to his word. The ping was still echoing around the room when he deposited the scones on to the table and sat down opposite me
.

“Wow,” I said, nodding at his handiwork. “They look lovely. Smell lovely too.
”

“They do, don’t they?” he said with a smile. “Beginner’s luck, maybe. Tuck in, tuck in.
”

I grabbed and quickly buttered a scone, hoping for all I was worth that I wouldn’t have to fake a positive review. But there was no danger of that
.

“Eddie!” I said, not caring that my mouth was full. “They’re
delicious
!
”

He took an experimental nibble of his own. “Christ, they are as well,” he said. “I don’t believe it.
”

“You could go into business with these.” “Well, now …
”

“They’re fantastic. Just fantastic.” “I can’t say I’m not chuffed.” “Lovely straight from the oven …” “Yeah.
”

“Much nicer than mine. You’ll have to show me what you did.
”

“No problem.
”

“Little hint of cinnamon in there …” “A wee bit, yeah.
”