Evening Class (58 page)

‘I
know
.’

‘Could it have been a different bar, honestly?’

‘I don’t know.’ He was very glum.

‘Maybe they forgot they’d been to Rome,’ she said brightly.

‘Yes, it’s not the kind of thing you’d forget though, is it?’

‘But they remembered you.’

‘And
I
thought I remembered them.’

‘Come on, go to bed. We have to be bright-eyed for the Pope,’ Fiona said.

‘Oh God, the Pope,’ said Barry.

In their bedroom Connie had given her surprise to Signora. It was a full tape-recording of Aidan’s speech. She had bought the tape recorder and got every word of it for her.

Signora was touched to the heart. ‘I’ll listen to it under my pillow here so that it won’t disturb you,’ she said, after they had tried some of it out.

‘No, I’m happy to hear it again,’ Connie said.

Signora looked at the other woman. Her eyes were bright and she seemed flushed. ‘Is everything all right, Constanza?’

‘What? Oh yes, absolutely, Signora.’

And they sat there, each of them having had an evening that might change their lives. Was Connie Kane in any real danger from the mentally disturbed Siobhan? And would Nora O’Donoghue go back to the small town in Sicily which had been the centre of her life for twenty-three years? Even though they had confided in each other a little, they both had a strong tradition of keeping troubles to themselves. Connie wondered what had kept Signora from Aidan’s lecture, and indeed out so late on her own tonight. Signora longed to ask if Constanza had heard anything more from the person who had written the unpleasant letter.

They got into bed and discussed the time for the alarm.

‘Tomorrow is the Papal Audience,’ Signora said suddenly.

‘Oh God, I’d forgotten,’ Connie admitted.

‘So had I, aren’t we a disgrace?’ said Signora with a giggle.

They loved seeing the Pope. He looked a little frail but in good spirits. They all thought he was looking directly at them. There were hundreds and hundreds of people in St Peter’s Square, and yet it seemed very personal.

‘I’m glad it wasn’t a Private Audience,’ Laddy said, as if such a thing could ever have been possible. ‘This big one is better somehow. It shows you religion isn’t dead, and what’s more you wouldn’t have to think of anything to say to him, yourself like.’

Lou and Bill Burke had three cold beers each before they went and when Barry saw them he joined in quickly. Suzi and Lizzie had two very cold ice creams each. They all took photographs. There was an optional lunch which everyone took. Most of them had been too hungover or upset to have thought of making sandwiches at breakfast time.

‘I hope they’ll all be in better shape for the party at Signor Garaldi’s tomorrow,’ Laddy said disapprovingly to Kathy and Fran.

Lou was passing by when he said it. ‘God Almighty, the party,’ he said holding his head.

‘Signora?’ Aidan spoke to her after lunch.

‘That’s a bit formal, Aidan, you used to call me Nora,’ she said.

‘Ah well.’

‘Ah well what?’

‘How was your meeting yesterday, Nora?’

She paused for moment. ‘It was interesting, and despite the fact that it was in a restaurant, I managed to stay sober, unlike almost everyone else in the group. I’m surprised the Holy Father wasn’t lifted out of his chair with the fumes of alcohol from our group.’

He smiled. ‘I went to a bar and drowned my sorrows.’

‘What are these sorrows, now?’

He tried to keep it light. ‘Well, the main one was that you weren’t there for my talk.’

Her face lit up and she reached into her big handbag. ‘But I
was
. Look what Constanza did for me. I’ve heard the whole thing. It was wonderful, Aidan, and they clapped so much at the end and they loved it. It was so clear, I could see it all. In fact, when we have little free time I’m going back there and I’ll play the tape just for myself. It will be as if I got a special tour all for myself.’

‘I’d give you a repeat, you know that.’ His eyes were full of warmth, he was reaching out for her hand, but she pulled away.

‘No, Aidan don’t, please don’t, it’s not fair. To make me think things I shouldn’t think, like that you… well, like that you care about me and my future.’

‘But God, Nora, you know I do.’

‘Yes, but we’ve been over a year fond of each other in this way, and it’s impossible. You live with your wife and family.’

‘Not for much longer,’ he said.

‘Ah well, Grania’s getting married, but nothing else has changed.’

‘Yes it has. A lot has changed.’

‘I can’t listen to you, Aidan. I have to make up my rnind about something huge.’

‘They want you to go back to Sicily, don’t they?’ he said, his heart heavy and his face rigid.

‘Yes, they do.’

‘I never asked you why you left.’

‘No.’

‘Nor why you stayed so long there either.’

‘So doesn’t that show something?’

‘I don’t ask about you either. I don’t ask questions I might like to know the answers to.’

‘I’d answer them, I promise you, and I’d hold nothing back.’

‘Let’s wait. It’s too hothouse to ask each other questions and answer them here in Rome.’

‘But if we don’t, then you may go away and live in Sicily, and then…’

‘And then what?’ her voice was gentle.

‘And then the whole point of my life will have gone away,’ he said, and his eyes filled with tears.

The forty-two guests arrived at the Garaldi residence at five o’clock on Thursday. They had dressed in their best finery, and they all carried cameras. Word had got around that this was the kind of house that you might see in
Hello
! magazine. They wanted it recorded.

‘Will we be able to take photos do you think, Lorenzo?’ Kathy Clarke asked.

Laddy was the authority on all aspects of the visit. He thought about it for a while. ‘There should be an official group photograph certainly, to record the occasion, and as many shots of the outside as we like. But I somehow feel that we shouldn’t take pictures of their possessions, you know, in case they were to be seen and stolen later.’

They nodded their agreement. Laddy had certainly worked it all out. When they saw the building they all stopped, amazed. Even Connie Kane, who was used to visiting splendid places, was knocked backwards.

‘We can’t be allowed in here,’ Lou whispered to Suzi, loosening his tie which had begun to choke him.

‘Shut up, Lou, how are we going to go up in the world if you panic in front of a bit of money and class,’ Suzi hissed back at him.

‘This is the kind of life I was born to,’ Lizzie Duffy said, bowing graciously at the staff who conducted them in, and up the steps.

‘Don’t be ridiculous, Lizzie.’ Bill Burke was anxious. He hadn’t learned any really good phrases about international banking that would advance his career. He knew she would be disappointed in him.

The Garaldi family were there and they had invited a photographer of their own. Would anyone mind if they took pictures, then these could be developed and given to the guests as they departed? Mind? They were thrilled. First there was Lorenzo and Signor Garaldi. Then one of Lorenzo and the whole Garaldi family. Then that group plus Signora and Aidan and after that, everyone ranked on the stairs. This was a house that had seen the need for group photography before.

The two sullen sons of the family whom Laddy had entertained in the snooker halls of Dublin had cheered up mightily, and they bore him away to show him their own games room. There were trays of wine and soft drinks. There was beer in tall elegant glasses, plates of crostini and little cakes and tartlets.

‘May I take a picture of the food?’ Fiona asked.

‘Please, please.’ Signor Garaldi’s wife seemed touched.

‘It’s my future mother-in-law, she’s teaching me to cook, I’d like her to see something elegant like this.’

‘Is she a kind person,
la suocera
… the mother-in-law?’ Signora Garaldi was interested.

‘Yes, very kind. She was a bit unstable, she tried to commit suicide you see, because her husband was having an affair with that man’s wife. But it’s all over now. Actually, I ended it. Myself personally!’ Fiona’s eyes were bright with excitement and marsala wine.

‘
Dio mio
.’ Signora Garaldi had her hand to her throat. All this in Holy Catholic Ireland!

‘I met her through the suicide,’ Fiona continued. ‘She was brought to my hospital. In many ways I pulled her around, and she’s very grateful to me, so she’s teaching me high-class cooking.’

‘High class,’ Signora Garaldi murmured.

Lizzie passed by, her eyes wide with admiration. ‘
Che bella casa
,’ she said.

‘
Parla bene Italiano
,’ Signora Garaldi said warmly.

‘Yes, well I’ll need it when Guglielmo is appointed to an international banking post, quite possibly in Rome.’

‘Really he might be sent to Rome?’

‘We
could
choose Rome, or anywhere he wants really, but this is such a beautiful city,’ Lizzie was gracious in her praise.

There was going to be a speech, people were gathered together, Laddy from the games room, Connie from the picture gallery, Barry from the car and motorbikes down in the underground garage.

While they assembled Signora took Aidan’s arm. ‘You won’t believe what the Garaldis have made of this, I heard the wife explaining that someone in the group is an international surgeon who saves lives, and Elizabetta has said that Guglielmo is a famous banker contemplating settling in Rome.’

Aidan smiled. ‘And do they believe any of it?’ he asked.

‘I doubt it. For one thing, Guglielmo has asked three times can he cash a cheque and what is today’s rate of exchange. It wouldn’t inspire huge confidence.’ She smiled back at him too. Anything either of them said seemed warm or funny or full of insights.

‘Nora?’ he said.

‘Not yet… Let’s try and get the show on the road.’

The speech was warm in the extreme. Never had the Garaldis been made so welcome as in Ireland, never had they met such honesty and friendship. Today was just one more example of it. People had come to their house as strangers and would leave as friends. ‘
Amici
,’ a lot of them said when he said friends.

‘
Amici sempre
,’ said Signer Garaldi.

Laddy’s hand was raised high in the air. He would come to this house for ever. They would visit his nephew’s hotel again.

‘We could have a party for
you
when you come to Dublin,’ Connie Kane said, and at this they all nodded eagerly, promising to take part. The pictures arrived. Marvellous big pictures on elegant steps in the courtyard. Amongst the thousands of shots taken on this
viaggio
, snaps of people squinting into the sun, these would have pride of place in all the different homes over Dublin.

There were a lot of
CAIOS
and
arrivedercis
and
grazies
, and the evening class from Mountainview were out again on the streets of Rome. It was after eleven o’clock, the crowds were beginning to have their little
passeggiata
, the evening stroll. Nobody felt like going home; they had been having too exciting a time.

‘I’m going back to the hotel. Will I take everyone’s pictures?’ Aidan said suddenly. He looked across the group, waiting for her to speak.

Signora spoke slowly. ‘So am I, we can carry them back for you and so if you all get drunk again you won’t lose them.’

They smiled at each other knowingly. What they had all suspected over the past year was about to happen.

They walked hand in hand until they found an open-air restaurant with strolling players. ‘You warned us against these,’ Aidan said.

‘I only said they were expensive, I didn’t say they weren’t wonderful,’ said Nora O’Donoghue.

They sat and talked. She told him about Mario and Gabriella, and how she had lived happily in their shadow for so long.

He told her about Nell, and how he could never see when and why the good times had gone from their marriage. But gone they had. They lived now like strangers under the same roof.

She told him how Mario had died first and Gabriella then, how their children wanted her to go back and help with the hotel. Alfredo had said the words she had ached to hear, that they had always thought of her as a kind of mother anyway.

He told her that he knew now Nell had been having an affair. That he had neither been shocked or hurt by this, but just surprised. It did seem a very male response, he thought, a little arrogant and very insensitive, but that’s the way it was.

She said that she would have to meet Alfredo again and talk to him. She didn’t know yet what she was going to say.

He told her that when they got home he would tell Nell that they would sell their house and give her half the proceeds. He didn’t know yet where he was going to live.

They went slowly back to the Hotel Francobollo. They were too old to have the where-do-we-go problem of youngsters. Yet that was exactly what they had. They couldn’t lock Laddy out of his room for the night. Nor Constanza. They looked at each other.

‘
Buona sera
, Signor Buona Sera,’ began Nora O’Donoghue. ‘
C’e un piccolo problema
…’

It wasn’t a problem for long. Signor Buona Sera was a man of the world. He found them a room with no delays and no questions asked.

The days flew by in Rome, and then it was just a short walk across to Termini and the train to Florence.

‘
Firenze
,’ they all chorused when they saw the name come up on the noticeboard at the station. They didn’t mind leaving because they knew they were coming back. Hadn’t they all put their coins in the Trevi Fountain? And there would be so much more to see and do once they had mastered Intermediate or Improvers’ Italian. They hadn’t decided what to call it, but everyone was signing on.

They settled in the train, their picnics packed. The Buona Seras had left out plenty of supplies. This group had been no trouble. And imagine the unexpected romance between the two leaders! Far too old for it, of course, and it would never last when they went back to their own spouses, but still, part of the madness of a holiday.