Three Wise Men, page 40
Eimear nods reluctantly, her breathing less ragged.
They’d better move on, thinks Kate, cars are slowing down and people are craning their heads to study them.
‘Eimear, Gloria’s still by the river. I have to go back for her, she shouldn’t be left to her own devices. Will you come with me?’
‘No.’ She shakes her head vigorously, blond tendrils escaping from the knot on top of her head.
‘Will you wait here for me then?’
‘I don’t want to see Gloria.’
Kate is perplexed. She can’t leave Eimear and she can’t leave Gloria.
‘Eimear, you’ll have to do the big thing here. I’m going down to collect Gloria and then the two of us are escorting her home to her mother’s, where hopefully someone will talk sense into her. You needn’t speak to her, you needn’t even look at her, but we’re not turning our backs on her now.’
Eimear regards her feet; her black patent shoes have a rim of earth from the graveyard.
‘Fine,’ she mumbles.
By the river, there’s no sign of Gloria. Kate looks left and right along the Camowen but the only movement is a hundred yards away where one of the fishermen reaches for bait.
Kate half-expects Eimear to have bolted too but she’s standing where she left her by the traffic lights.
‘She’s gone ahead of us to Mallons, we’ll catch up with her there.’
Mrs Mallon answers the door in a black skirt and blouse, a look just as dark on her face.
‘I have a houseful of visitors and no Gloria,’ she announces, as though it’s their fault.
‘Where is she?’ Kate asks.
‘She came flying into the house, completely ignored her Auntie Kathleen, grabbed her bags and dropped them in the car. Then she charged off towards the Dublin Road like a woman possessed, not a word of goodbye.’
‘She’s not herself, Mrs Mallon,’ Kate apologises.
Eimear turns to Kate. ‘What now?’
‘We go back to Dublin and pick up the pieces – I’ll give you a lift.’
They stop in Ardee for a coffee and sandwich. Kate studies Eimear as she picks at the tuna filling listlessly. She’s changed in the past six months, she seems older – not in a negative sense, but there’s more life experience there. As well as the indentations on her forehead there are two thin lines curving alongside each corner of her mouth. They’re not unattractive, Kate decides, they lend her face character. She also has a restrained quality, an air of watchfulness, and Kate realises with a pang that she and Gloria are responsible for that.
Eimear’s still a head-turner, even in the black trouser suit which is too severe for her – Eimear was designed for pastels. A waiter rushes forward with a lighter when she pushes aside her barely tasted sandwich and produces cigarettes. Whatever resentment she once harboured towards Eimear is long gone, her fling with Jack must have lanced that boil.
Stirring her coffee restlessly, Kate realises she and Gloria always under-estimated Eimear. She wouldn’t still be on speaking terms with a friend who stole her husband or used him to father a child. Obviously Eimear’s need for them is greater than her resentment.
‘You put me to shame, Eimear,’ Kate tells her.
She inhales, eyes narrowed against the smoke, and looks at Kate enquiringly.
‘With your ability to forgive,’ she expands.
Eimear sighs. ‘You have to let go so you can get on with life – my hostility was hurting me more than either of you. In truth it was never hatred, just injured feelings. I’d never do anything to jeopardise our friendship, it’s been my lodestone all these years. Then when it was snatched away I felt destabilised: no Jack, no friends, no home – it’s been dismal.
‘But I’ve been considering what’s happened between the three of us, I’ve been thinking about little else for the past few months. And what I’ve concluded is that friendship isn’t something that simply evolves naturally, there’s times you have to work at it and maybe this is one of those times. Sometimes, too, one of the friends has to give more than the others but it’s swings and roundabouts, life has a way of balancing out. Perhaps you’ve supported me more than I’ve realised all these years. Or maybe I’m due a bout of temporary insanity and I’ll need you two to stand by me in the future. Who knows?’
She stubs out her cigarette and inspects the dregs in her coffee mug. Kate is silent, reluctant to break the flow. Impatiently Eimear pulls a few pins from her bun and the white-blonde hair spills down her neck.
‘I’m not trying to come across like Mother Theresa of Calcutta, Kate, there’ve been times I’ve raged and damned you both and I still can’t believe you could be so stupid. It’s been tempting to turn my back on the two of you and pretend you don’t exist and I’ve tried that option, you’ve no idea how I’ve tried. But I’ve invested too many years in this friendship to jettison it and when I heard about Gloria’s baby, all I could think of was her sorrow and how she’d need both of us by her side to help her through.
‘It was a shock when she said she wanted Jack too, I didn’t think I could handle that, I’m still not certain I can. But it’s not because I still love him, it’s more a case of thinking, “Good God above, am I never to be free of that man?”’
Eimear is plaiting the hair now, winding one pale skein around the other.
‘I wanted his baby too, Kate, that’s why it hurt so much when I heard about Gloria’s pregnancy. I thought if I were the mother of his child it would copperfasten his love for me, give me an edge over all the other women he has an eye for.
‘In a strange way, Kate, I didn’t mind too much about his affair with you because it was just sex and I thought that Jack and I had transcended that – more fool me. I objected to his cheating with a friend because that was the real betrayal for me, not his adultery. I suppose I’ve always known one woman would never be enough for him. But after I calmed down, I knew you were probably suffering too and in a nasty little part of me, I realised I’d be able to count on your friendship for life because you’d always feel guilty over Jack.’
Eimear pushes her sandwich plate away, food spilling from its edges. ‘But then Gloria turned out to be pregnant by my husband and it was a disloyalty too far – I felt abandoned and I panicked and shoved you both out of my life. The idea of her having his baby when I couldn’t … it was misery.’
She grinds to a halt, staring sombrely ahead.
‘Eimear,’ Kate touches her arm, ‘you do realise it wasn’t a love affair, he simply supplied her with some sperm.’
‘So she told me.’
‘Gloria was frantic when Jack wanted an involvement in her life, when he seemed inclined to claim a share in the baby. And now there’s no baby, there’s no longer a reason for them to have any contact with one another.’
‘So why did she hare off to Dublin to see him?’
It’s a question Kate can’t answer – she pays the bill and bundles Eimear into the car.
As they hit Dublin and drive down O’Connell Street, she’s unsure where to head – to Jack’s rooms in Trinity, to Gloria’s house in Ranelagh, or should she deliver Eimear home to Dundrum? Eimear’s been through an emotionally draining day, she spoke in monosyllables for the remainder of the journey. Kate realises she doesn’t even know where her cottage is.
‘I’ll drop you home if you point me in the general direction,’ Kate suggests, as they curl past Trinity College.
Eimear glances in through the entrance archway and shivers.
‘Someone stepped on my grave. No, let’s go to Ranelagh, it’s my guess that’s where Gloria is now.’
‘Are you sure you’re up to it?’
‘What’s the worst that can happen – I find her in a clinch with Jack? I’ve imagined that so often the reality can’t harm me.’
Gloria’s car is parked outside the house – and so is Jack’s. Kate swivels towards Eimear again. ‘They’re both inside – is this wise?’
She hesitates, tugging at her earlobe. Then she reaches a decision.
‘Since when were any of the three of us ever wise?’ Eimear shrugs. ‘I must face him sooner or later and I have to find out where I stand with Gloria, it may as well be now.’
She clutches Kate’s elbow for support. ‘I need to find out whether it’s just the two of us now or whether we can ever be a threesome again.’
Kate unhooks her seatbelt and strains towards Eimear, as close as lovers in the Triumph Spitfire. ‘Mulligan, whatever happens I’m your friend. I know I let you down once but I’ll never do it again.’
Eimear eyes Kate as anxiously as a lost child.
‘Promise?’
‘Cross my heart and hope to die.’
Eimear’s face breaks into a smile. ‘Let’s get this over with.’
‘We’re not afraid of Jack O’Brien,’ says Kate, on the garden path.
‘No, but we’re afraid of what he means to Gloria.’
There are raised voices inside and Kate has to jam her finger on the doorbell before it’s answered. If Eimear’s nerves are in tatters, Gloria’s must be twice as ragged, she thinks.
‘Kate,’ Gloria materialises in the hall and grabs her, ‘come in. I’ve been kicking myself I didn’t wait for you.’
She doesn’t seem to notice Eimear, who drifts in after them. Kate cranes her head over a shoulder, checking she’s coping, and Eimear nods almost imperceptibly.
‘So, the coven’s assembled,’ remarks Jack as they congregate in the living room. ‘Time for some double, double, toil and trouble.’
Kate’s taken aback: what’s happened to the caring, shaken Jack she saw in the hospital – the cynical, drawling model seems to have taken his place.
‘I’ve just been explaining to Jack that he’s to stay out of my life forever.’ Gloria’s voice is defensively loud. ‘That he was my friend’s husband and he hadn’t the sense to hang on to the best thing that happened to him. That he’s brought nothing but discord between the three of us and I accept a full share of blame for my part in it. That I made a mistake trying to have a baby with him because it was never meant to be. That I feel nothing but pity for him but it doesn’t extend to wanting any further contact with him. That he’s to go away and attempt to learn something from this miserable episode, as I’m trying to do.’
Jack sweeps the three with a disdainful glance.
‘Omagh girls, you’re more trouble than you’re worth. You’re all a bit long in the tooth anyway. Don’t bother to show me out, I know the way.’
‘On the contrary,’ says Eimear, ‘it’s a pleasure to show you the door.’
And she slams it in his face.
‘We shouldn’t demonise him,’ says Gloria when they’re alone. ‘We both buried a child today.’
‘And he played the hero convincingly when he rushed you to hospital,’ admits Kate.
‘Plus there’s the small matter of a sperm bank withdrawal,’ Eimear points out. With only the suspicion of an edge.
The other two decide against answering the unanswerable. Kate races in: ‘He can’t help it, he’s only a man. There’s no getting away from that chromosome deficiency.’
There’s a tense moment as the three women look at each other, unsure what to do next.
‘I’m gasping for a drink,’ says Gloria. ‘I’ve a bottle of champagne put by for the christening’ – her face turns to stone momentarily but she musters courage and continues – ‘it’s not chilled but at least it’s fizzy. Fancy some?’
They nod.
‘What shall we drink to?’ asks Kate.
‘To the three wise men,’ suggests Eimear.
‘As opposed to the three prudent virgins.’ Gloria pulls a face.
They clink flutes tentatively – each of them knows the friendship can never be exactly as it was before but perhaps the troika might survive intact after all.
‘So how’s your love life?’ Kate asks Eimear after they’ve emptied the bottle and debated tossing a coin for a takeaway – head’s an Indian, harp’s a pizza.
‘Is Christy still bowing at the foot of your pedestal?’
Eimear’s chin sinks on to her hand. ‘He’s convinced we were lovers in a previous life. He photographed a woman who claims she’s the reincarnation of Sarah Curran, Robert Emmet’s fiancée, and he’s hooked on the subject. Christy’s got it into his head he was a soldier in Wolfe Tone’s army of Frenchmen and we met after I hid him in the shed behind my father’s tavern when they were defeated and the victorious mob went on the rampage.’
‘So you were a buxom serving wench ladling out the ale and cavorting in the hayloft,’ says Gloria.
‘That’s right.’ Eimear extends her chest in a vain attempt to look buxom.
‘That little fantasy says more about Christy than he might like to admit,’ Kate smiles. ‘How long has he had this fixation on barmaids?’
‘Since the seventeenth century, obviously,’ giggles Eimear.
Kate wrinkles her nose. ‘I want to be reincarnated as one of those Japanese bulls that make the most expensive steaks in the world – you know, the ones they massage in gin to keep their flesh tender.’
‘You could have trained that malleable young Brad boy of yours to perform that task,’ says Gloria.
Eimear looks interested, Kate winces.
‘It was a relief when he went south. Literally. I gave him his fare to Cork to investigate the Munster branch of the family.’
‘I’m ratted,’ complains Gloria. ‘I haven’t had a drink in so long, two glasses has left me legless.’
‘You always were a cheap date,’ Kate tells her. ‘So, Mulligan, is this Christy fellow the love of your life?’
‘Do me a favour,’ she shakes the Veuve Cliquot bottle in the hope of rustling up some dregs. ‘He was a bit of fun to start with but now he’s a commitment bore and threatening to bin me if I don’t agree to move in with him. So it looks like I’m flying solo again.’
‘That’s bad news,’ says Gloria.
‘Good news, bad news, who knows,’ responds Eimear, falling backwards on the sofa. ‘I never could take a man seriously who asked if it was all right to kiss me.’
‘He did that?’ Kate is wide-eyed.
‘To begin with anyway. I suppose he thought he was treating a wounded damsel in distress with consideration.’
‘Whereas really you wanted someone to sweep you off your feet and be masterful,’ Kate muses.
‘Pathetic, isn’t it.’ She’s suddenly sober.
‘But sure isn’t it what we all want,’ suggests Gloria.
‘No,’ Kate contradicts her. ‘It’s only what we think we want. When you encounter the reality, in the shape of a Jack O’Brien, say, it’s not so alluring any more. Not after the initial euphoria.’
‘Where does that leave us then, on the shelf at thirty-three, unloved and unlovable?’ Gloria sounds glum, the alcohol’s wearing off her too. ‘Prawns caught and discarded in the fishing net of life?’
‘It leaves us choosier,’ Kate tells them. ‘It leaves us unwilling to accept second-best just so we can have the comfort of coupledom. Maybe we’ll be in pairs again one day, maybe we won’t. But at least we’ll always be a trio. Three wise men who grew up – and wised up.’
The other two look solemnly at her and Eimear opens her mouth to speak. ‘Would you ever feck off down to the off-licence, Kate.’
‘And while you’re at it,’ says Gloria, ‘bring back some winegums.’
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