Divided Loyalties (42 page)

‘Here we are. Chin up, chest out,’ Shauna encouraged as she drove into the drive and switched off the engine. The front door opened and Noel struggled out on his crutches.

‘God, he’s got old-looking!’ Bobby was dismayed in spite of himself.

‘I know. I felt that too, but don’t forget you haven’t seen him in a few years. Carrie said he’s eating like a horse and when he’s eating his meals OK she
doesn’t worry too much about him.’ Shauna unfastened her seat belt.

‘Better get on with it,’ Bobby murmured, opening the door. ‘Hello, Dad.’ He got out of the car.

‘Hello, son. Welcome home,’ Noel said, his tired grey eyes brightening. He held out his hand, the crutch hanging from his wrist.

How bony and thin it is
, Bobby thought in shock as he took his father’s hand in his own.

‘It’s good to see you, son,’ Noel said awkwardly. ‘It’s been too long.’

‘I’m sorry for what I said, Dad,’ Bobby blurted suddenly, unable to help himself.

‘So am I, son, so am I.’ Tears came to Noel’s eyes and he blinked rapidly.

Bobby felt a lump in his throat. His father, the tyrant of old, was apologizing. Never able to hold a grudge, Bobby clasped his father to him. ‘Forget it, Dad. Thanks for the
letter,’ he murmured, noticing how thin and wispy his father’s white hair had got.

‘I bought a new bed for you. I thought it would be more comfortable,’ Noel managed, smothered against his son’s lanky body.

‘Thanks, Dad. Let’s go have a look.’ Bobby smiled down at him as he draped an arm round his father’s shoulder and they walked into the hall together.

Shauna bit her lip and kept her head bent as she pretended to struggle with Chloe’s seat belt. She hadn’t expected to be so moved at the reconciliation between her father and her
brother. Maybe she too had finally let go of the past. Noel was elderly now and had no power over her any more. It gave her a great sense of freedom and release. She hoped that Bobby would come to
feel the same during this visit. She kissed the top of her daughter’s head and tried to compose herself as she helped her out of the car. A plop of rain wet her cheeks. The skies had clouded
over and a rumble to the east heralded the sound of a thunderstorm out to sea.

‘Quick, Chloe, hurry,’ she urged as the plops turned into a steady drizzle. What a shame the weather had turned; she hoped it was only temporary. Still, it was a treat now and again
to have rain. She could spend the afternoon on the sofa in her new mobile home, reading. Chloe could play with Olivia and their Barbies, their current craze. She’d settle her brother in, have
a cup of tea with them and head off to her little haven.

‘Are you sure you won’t have something else for your supper?’ Noel asked as Bobby took a bite out of a chunk of Mrs O’Neill’s currant bread that
he had smeared with thick creamy butter.

‘This is scrumptious. It brings me right back to when I was a child. It was very kind of her to remember how much I liked it.’ He took a drink of hot, sweet tea and wished Anton was
with him to share his tasty feast. It was still raining and the grey dusk had turned to darkness. He was tired. There was still an edge of awkwardness between him and his father, although Noel had
gone out of his way to make him feel welcome. After lunch he’d driven his father to Shauna’s mobile where they’d spent most of the afternoon before coming home after tea.
He’d settled his father in front of the TV and told him he was going to unpack. In the privacy of his bedroom he’d phoned Anton and given him all the news.

‘So it’s not as bad as you’d thought it would be?’ Anton’s deep voice came down the line. Bobby had felt lonely for him.

‘No, it’s OK really. It was great being with Shauna and the kids in the mobile; it takes the pressure off. It’s a pity it’s bloody raining. I’d have gone for a walk
on the beach.’ Bobby sighed. The night ahead seemed very long. They’d chatted for a while before wishing each other goodnight. Bobby lay on his new bed. It was good and firm, a far
better bed than the one he’d slept in on his previous visits home. He yawned. He was tired. It must be the sea air. He took his small photo of Anton, in its silver frame, out of his rucksack
and placed it on his bedside locker. He wondered whether Noel would make any comment about it. Was he being provocative by putting it on public view? He stared at the photo of his beloved. Anton
would tell him to put it away, he thought with a wry smile. But there was only so much he would do to appease his father. Denying Anton was like a betrayal of who and what he was and he
wasn’t going to do it. It was Noel’s problem if he couldn’t deal with it.

That was his last memory. He’d fallen fast asleep and only woken up when Noel had knocked on the door to see whether he wanted a cup of tea and a slice of currant bread.

‘Wha . . . what? What time is it?’ Bobby jerked up, blinking at the light spilling in from the landing.

‘It’s almost half ten,’ Noel informed him as he made his way into the room and pulled the curtains to shut out the blustery, wet night. Bobby switched on his bedside lamp.

‘Sorry, Dad, I fell fast asleep,’ he apologized.

‘It’s the sea air. It’s better than any sleeping tablet.’ Noel chuckled.

‘It’s a bit rude to come on a visit and spend it sleeping,’ Bobby said ruefully, stretching.

‘Who’s that?’ Noel pointed with his crutch to the photo of Anton.

Bobby took a deep breath. ‘That’s my best friend, Anton,’ he said quietly.

‘I see. What does he do?’ Noel leaned on his crutch and stared at his son.

‘He designs websites for businesses.’

‘Oh. That’s different, I suppose. Do you share a flat?’ Bobby knew his father wanted to know if they lived together. But at least he wasn’t being aggressive or
disapproving, which was a step forward.

‘No, not yet. We might buy a place together sometime. Property is very expensive in London.’ He put it in a way that would be more comfortable for his father to deal with. ‘I
don’t think I’d ever be able to buy anywhere on my own and rent really is money down the drain.’ He stood up and smoothed the bed cover.

‘You’re always better to have your own roof over your head,’ Noel agreed, as he preceded him out of the room. ‘And when I go, there will be a share of this house for the
three of you.’

‘Ah don’t say that, Dad. You’re not going anywhere.’ Bobby patted him on the shoulder.

‘Well I just wanted you to know,’ Noel said gruffly.

‘Thanks, Dad,’ Bobby said appreciatively, knowing that this was his father’s way of saying that he hadn’t cut him out of the will.

They sat at the kitchen table drinking tea and buttered currant bread as the rain battered the window and Twiskers purred contentedly in her cushioned nest.

‘If the weather improves I’ll whitewash the back yard for you,’ he offered.

‘It needs doing. I’d be very happy if you did that, son; I don’t like to annoy Dan, he’s busy enough. I’d planned to do it myself until I had my
accident.’

‘I’ll do it. Carrie said the weather was only a blip and it should be dry tomorrow.’ Bobby buttered himself another slice of bread.

‘She knows. She and Dan always watch the weather forecast for his farming.’

Bobby topped up their teacups with more tea and felt himself relax. The worst was definitely over. Anton had been introduced into the frame, and Noel hadn’t thrown a wobbly. A miracle in
itself. Things had changed and very much for the better. The trip wasn’t going to be half the ordeal he’d expected. In fact, he reflected, as he spooned sugar into both their cups, he
was actually enjoying himself.

O dear Lord, help me not to judge
. Noel lay in bed, praying, wishing that sleep would overtake him. It had been an eventful day. The return of the prodigal son. His
heart had lifted at the sight of Bobby, in spite of the blond hair and the red scarf coiled in a flamboyant manner round his neck. His son had been very kind and gracious and apologized for his
harsh words at their last parting. It had made it easier for him to apologize also and their hug had been one of awkward forgiveness.

Mrs O’Neill had cautioned him over and over to accept his son as he was. She’d reminded him that he was beloved of God and created by the Divine hand just as he, Noel, was. He was
trying to remember that now. It had been all right until he’d seen the photo of the young man beside Bobby’s bed. If he had a photo of him they must be very close. A fine, handsome man
that should have a wife and children for himself, not another young man who was clearly misguided. Bobby too would make some young woman a good husband. He was good-natured and kind. Why had he
turned out the way he had?

Noel sighed. It was hard to understand, very, very hard, but Mrs O’Neill was right, even though it was annoying to admit it. No matter how much he felt he had the right to, he should not
judge his son. The Lord himself had said
judge not, lest ye be judged
. Difficult one. Very difficult, he thought solemnly. Mrs O’Neill had told him it was probably a great lesson
that Bobby had to teach him. The lesson of not judging. She had some very strange notions, but the thing about it was that when he really thought about it, everything she said was right in a funny
sort of way.

Still, it was nice to have all his family around him. Noel turned his thoughts to more pleasant matters. Carrie had said that she and Shauna were going to have a barbecue. He’d never been
to a barbecue; it was something to look forward to. Eating out in the open with the children would be fun; they truly were the greatest joys in his life. He’d told Chloe he’d take out
his photo album and show her photos of her granny. ‘You look very like her,’ he’d whispered, anxious that Olivia wouldn’t overhear. He didn’t want to put her nose out
of joint. There was a little bit of ‘he’s my grandpa too’ going on.

Chloe had gone pink with pleasure at his whispered words. He felt sorry for his young granddaughter. There was something lonely about her, and as far as he could make out her father spent
precious little time with her. It was just as well that she was spending the summer in Whiteshells Bay. He’d make a great fuss of her, discreetly of course, so the others wouldn’t be
jealous. She needed to know that her family in Ireland loved her dearly.

The loving thoughts eased his mind and soon Noel’s snores rumbled to the ceiling as Twiskers lay asleep at his feet, whiskers twitching, dreaming of plump mice.

Shauna lay snug in her bed as the rain hopped off the roof of the mobile home and the wind rustled through the branches of the fir trees. The sea crooned its rhythmic lullaby,
soothing and relaxing her better than any tranquillizer. The lemon and terracotta décor of the room gave it a warm, cosy ambience and the peachy glow from her bedside lamp was reflected in
the gleaming mirror on the small wardrobe door. It was a peaceful room and she was delighted with her new purchase.

It had been a dreadful day, weatherwise, but she’d really enjoyed it. She’d read her book lying on the sofa as the girls played with their dolls. She hadn’t been so relaxed in
years, she decided, as she listened to the cousins chattering happily together. This was just what she needed. The perfect antidote to her hectic social life out in the Gulf. Bobby and Noel had
come to visit in the afternoon, then Carrie had called in and they’d spent an enjoyable few hours catching up.

Who would have thought that her father and Bobby would be reconciled after all these years? It was hard to believe, she thought drowsily, as her book slipped from her hand. She switched off the
light and burrowed down into the bed, glad of her bedsocks and electric blanket. It was going to be a mega summer, she determined as her eyes closed.

Peace had come to the family at last.

‘Well what’s all this? Shauna, you dark horse.’ Della’s brittle accusatory tones rang out along the veranda as she stepped up onto it, followed by a
surly Eddie, and their two children.

Shauna’s stomach lurched in dismay. She couldn’t believe her eyes. Della was marching down her veranda with a sickly-sweet smile on her lips, arms out to greet her.

‘What are you doing here?’ she asked weakly, handing a glass of chilled white wine to Carrie.

‘Oh well, if we weren’t going to get to see you in Malahide we thought we’d pop over to Whiteshells Bay to see how you were and how Mr McCarthy was?’ She air-kissed her
sister-in-law and turned to Noel, all insincere concern, and bent down to give him a kiss. ‘How are you, lovey?’

‘Ah it’s yourself,’ Noel exclaimed, quite unaware of the tension rending the air. He was sitting on a cane chair with a plate of steak, baked potato and salad on his knee,
thoroughly enjoying himself. Bobby, wearing a chef’s apron he’d bought in Drogheda, was barbecuing like a madman. Curlicues of smoke from the grill wafted out to sea. He flipped over
two steaks, and a couple of ribs, their juices sizzling onto the hot coals beneath. He was far from pleased to see the interlopers and muttered a greeting.

‘So, I met Mr McCarthy’s next-door neighbour when I couldn’t find anyone in Carrie’s,’ Della explained, eyes darting here and there, taking everything in.
‘And she told me that you’d bought a mobile home, Shauna. You never said!’ Her sly, piggy eyes were cold and accusatory even though she had a smile plastered on her face.

‘Any beer there, Bobby?’ Eddie asked, plonking down into the white chair Shauna had been sitting on.

‘I’ll check,’ Bobby murmured, knowing that Shauna was furious.

‘So, when did you buy and why the big secret?’ Della persisted, acerbically.

‘No secret. It all happened very quickly. I didn’t even know, the last time I was talking to you, that I was going to buy one,’ Shauna said tightly. ‘I suppose you could
call it an impulse buy. That wouldn’t be your style, I know.’ She couldn’t hide her annoyance and she didn’t care if Della took umbrage at her tone. She was hopping mad.
They were having a lovely, relaxed family lunch, making the most of the returned good weather, and now bloody Della and her gang had gatecrashed it.

‘I see. I believe you own this place, Carrie? The gates were closed so we left the car parked outside and came in through the pedestrian gate. How long have you had it?’