Fragile Lies (25 page)

The spray was blowing strong off the sea. The hedgerows crouched into the wind, stilted limbs braced against the coming storms.

B
rahms Ward
, 7 p.m.

“
Y
ou don’t understand it
, Michael,” you cried one night when it seemed another beginning was possible and, for that instant, I was tempted to lose myself in the cold power of a needle. To share with you the ultimate deadening hit. To reach Nirvana. Was that what it was like, Killian? Wanting, not wanting?

I was singing her name when I awoke this morning. Sweet Lorraine … when I marry Sweet Lorraine. I loved that song once. Nat King Cole, the smooth crooner, evoking mystery and glamour and the hint of happy-ever-after endings.

Christmas will soon be here. A Santa Claus on every corner and reindeers on the roof. You were reluctant to stop believing in Santa Claus. No matter how often Lorcan placed irrefutable proof in front of you, you refused to accept reality. I hope that fat old man with his Coca-Cola beard is still alive in your mind tonight. Magic is important in a child’s heart.

She’s in my veins, Killian. I want to lie beside her and never rise. Her voice runs over my skin. This delirium can’t last. All I want is oblivion but her name sings in my head and I’m bereft.

She’s not the one. Don’t ask … I just know! Hold my hand, do you hear me?
Damn
you … hold my hand. Oh Jesus, this is unendurable. I love you, Killian. OK … where were we? Let’s talk some sense tonight. The next series of
Nowhere Lodge
starts production in the spring. I’ve started writing a new one. Roz O’Hara is pleased. How I love the world of fiction.

Look at the moon. Full as a rich man’s belly. Maybe we’re all a bit touched by its madness. You always wanted to catch the moon. Remember how we chased it, running behind it as it swept across rooftops, skidded giddy as a hoop around corners, somersaulted behind monkey-puzzle trees and lampposts. When we stopped defeated, and we were always defeated, there it was, still resting securely on your horizon. An old devil moon that cows jumped at random while the dish and the spoon ran fast and far away from home.

W
ant the moon
… the moon … chase the moon … wired to the moon … too many Killians … hospital … screens around the bed … Killian is my name …

I
t was too much
. Virginia forced her way up Grafton Street, ignoring carol singers whose cheerfulness and jingling tambourines increased her irritation to boiling point. The Sunday before Christmas, their first real Christmas together, and he was in Galway with his daughter. Surely Virginia would not deny him the opportunity of seeing Emily and wishing her a happy Christmas, he demanded when she protested. She knew better than to continue the argument. Christmas and family were sacrosanct. Her own parents always signed a peace pact for the season of goodwill and allowed harmony to reign over the turkey.

She was waiting at the tail end of a queue to exit the car-park when a text came through on her mobile:
Virginia – why are you alone on a Sunday afternoon? For answer meet me in our favourite restaurant. Unlike us, it remains unchanged. Some things were meant to last.

Quickly, she texted back.
Piss off Ralph and get a life!

He responded immediately.
I’ll be waiting for you at the usual table by the window at 7 p.m. Don’t be late. I’ve something important to tell you.

How did he know she was alone? Guesswork, she decided, cheeky bastard. Her hopes that Adrian had arrived home before her were dashed when she opened the door of the apartment. She rang his mobile. He was apologetic, hassled. The visit had taken longer than expected and he was just about to leave his father’s house. With the holiday traffic on the road, God knows what time she could expect him home. At six-thirty she showered, dressed and took a taxi into the city.

Temple Bar was noisy, a seamless flow of people enjoying the festive atmosphere. The glass-fronted restaurant – decorated with silver bows and bells and twinkling lights ordering her to be of good cheer – still managed to look unnervingly familiar, as did the sight of Ralph in a sharply tailored navy jacket rising from the window seat to greet her. He was dressed formally in a shirt and tie, the effect more suited to the office than a restaurant where the majority of diners were wearing reindeer horns and Santa hats.

“Virginia, you never fail to astonish me. Your text read like a she-devil’s jingle but here you are, as angelic as ever.”

“You said this was important.” She slid into the seat opposite him and linked her fingers on the table. “My time is limited. Make it snappy.”

“First things first.” He accepted the menu from the waitress, choosing, as Virginia had known he would, a fillet steak, rare. She ordered prawns and he smiled, as if he had also anticipated her choice. After the waitress departed with their orders he glanced around. “As you can see, it’s hardly changed at all.”

“What did you expect?” she snapped. “A changed décor to match our changed circumstances?”

“Yes, I keep expecting everything to be different. Don’t you?”

“What do you want to discuss with me?”

“All in good time,” he said. “Happy Christmas.”

“Perhaps you’ve time to waste but I can’t stay long.”

He bent towards her and traced his finger along either side of her lips in a provocative semi-circle. “Do you know something, Virginia? I believe you’re getting a disgruntled mouth. Is the sanctity of a monogamous relationship already beginning to pall?”

She felt her skin contract, as if his touch had already furrowed her smooth skin. No matter how much she tried to deny the facts, there were deepening lines around her eyes and in the mornings her complexion was puffy until she applied make-up. Lack of sleep was the problem, not age, she assured herself. But what was she to do about it? Sleeping tablets helped but they only provided fitful relief.

“Why did you ask me here?” She sat perfectly still until he took his hand away.

“I want a sensible answer to a sensible question. Why him, Virginia? The others I tolerated. Like fleas, they could be eradicated. But him? Why take that step too far?”

“I was in love with him.”

He shook his head slowly. “You never intended leaving me. I know you too well, my darling. You scorch your wings but you never fly too close to the flame. You went with him for a reason. Don’t call me a fool by pretending it was love.”

The waitress returned and laid their meals before them.

“
Bon appetit
, Virginia.” He cut deeply into his steak. A thin drizzle of blood ran across the plate. “How is business?” He raised his eyebrows quizzically.

“Excellent.” She bit down on a prawn, tasted ginger and garlic.

“And Adrian?”

“The same.”

“The days of lying to me are gone, Virginia. I’d advise you to keep a close eye on him or he’ll drag you down when he hits the deck.”

“Such concern,” she mocked. “It would be touching if you were not such a vindictive bastard. I know what you’re trying to do to him.”

“Trying?” He shook his head. “I think succeeding would be the operative word. Where is he today?”

“Minding his own business.”

“Minding his own business in Trabawn, you mean. Be warned, Virginia. No matter how many times he goes to Trabawn, Lorraine won’t forgive him. But, this is a teaser, will Adrian be able to forgive you? And, more importantly, will he ever be able to forgive himself? As for me …” He paused, his fork in mid-air. “Now that is the
real
million dollar question.”

For an instant her composure deserted her. “Not that it’s got anything to do with you but Adrian does not go to Trabawn.”

“Even when he visits his daughter?”

“They meet in Galway.”

“Geography was never my strong point so correct me if I’m wrong. I was under the impression that Trabawn was in the majestic kingdom of Kerry. At least it was the last time I saw Emily.” He continued to carve his steak into small tender pieces and she felt cold suddenly, even though they were seated near the open kitchen where flames leaped from ovens and grease spat viciously against the bars of the grill.

“What are you suggesting?”

“Nothing at all. If Adrian says he’s in Galway who am I to suggest otherwise? We both know he
never
lies.”

“You’re the one who’s lying.”

“Always the optimist, Virginia. But I never believed you to be a credulous fool.” He stretched back in his chair and watched her rise to her feet. “Going so soon? What a pity. I was hoping we’d have the rest of the evening to enjoy each other’s company.”

“You’re pathetic, Ralph. You can’t bear the thought that I could be happy with someone else.”

“Your happiness was all I ever wanted, Virginia. All I’m advising you to do is be alert. As your mother would say, ‘Love in rose-tinted glasses is such a blind bitch.’”

She searched his pockets, the drawers where he kept his underwear and socks, found his briefcase keys and discovered the photographs. She spread them across the kitchen table. Emily with her arms around her boyfriend. Emily blowing out birthday candles. Proud parents sharing the moment. The man’s arm around the woman’s shoulders. Red hair spilling. Lorraine’s smile straining the corners of her eyes.

“Sorry I’m late.” It was after eleven when he finally arrived home. “When will the government get off its arse and sort out the traffic problem? I must have been forty minutes coming through Enfield, not to mention –”

“How is your father?” She rose from an armchair, cut across his apology.

“In good form. He sends his love.”

“Don’t patronise me, Adrian. If your father was to send me anything it would be a hand grenade with a defective pin.”

“Give him time. He’s coming round.”

“Like Emily?”

“Definitely softening up.”

“Did you invite her to visit us over Christmas?”

“Of course I did. But she’s still very negative about staying here. I just have to keep pushing the door open a little further each time.” He crossed to the drinks cabinet. “Jesus, I need a drink after that drive. Want to join me?”

When she nodded he poured two generous measures of whiskey, added ice and water, handed a glass to her. “Cheers.”

“Cheers,” she replied. “Tell me about Trabawn. Has it changed much over the years?”

He paused, startled. “I was in Galway. I told you. Emily took the train over to meet me.”

“We lived inside a lie for too long, Adrian.” Her voice remained calm. “Truth was the one thing we always promised each other. Remember? If we couldn’t trust each other we had nothing. Don’t lie to me now.”

He lowered his glass and placed it on the table. His stricken expression when he noticed the photographs added to her fury.

“Would you like to explain what all this is about?” She swiped the photographs and sent them flying to the floor.

“I’m sorry Virginia. I wanted to tell you but I knew you wouldn’t understand. Emily won’t come here, so Lorraine decided the best solution was for me to visit Trabawn.”

She stood rigidly before him when he tried to draw her into his arms. “How often have you met Lorraine?”

“Just the once. It was Emily’s birthday. For her sake, we had to spend the evening together.”

She lit a cigarette, dragged smoke deeply into her lungs. “Where did you do that? In the barn or the haystack?”

“For Christ’s sake, Virginia! You saw the photographs. We were in O’Callaghan’s.” His defensive tone softened, became placatory. “You wouldn’t believe how much it’s changed. It’s quite up-market now and the restaurant is –”

“I’m delighted O’Callaghan’s slum-clearance programme has been successful,” she snapped. “Tell me, did my name come up during this intimate little celebration?”

“Not that I can recall.”

“You can’t recall? What are we dealing with here? Amnesia or Alzheimer’s? Have I become so unimportant that you can’t even remember if I was a subject for discussion?”

“Why are you being such a bitch?” Unable any longer to control his temper, he banged his fist off the table. “I’ve lost my wife, my daughter, my home. All I’m trying to do is put a small piece of my life back together again and you’re not even willing to try and understand. I won’t be able to see Emily on Christmas Day because she refuses to come here and it’s not –”

“How
dare
you assume the lion’s share of pain!” Furiously, she interrupted him. “What about me? I’m trying to hold on to Blaide House by my fingernails. I’m the one making contacts, trying to lift you from this mess while you spend your time moaning because your family doesn’t love you any more. What did you expect? You made your choice when you left –”

“And what have I got in return?” he shouted. “Neurotic jealousy and a cheapskate apartment that reminds me of a fucking shop window.”

“How
dare
you!”

He ducked when she lifted her arm and flung the whiskey glass towards him. The crystal shattered against the wall. She watched the whiskey trickle towards the floor.

Shocked, he stared at the broken shards. “I lied because I knew this was how you’d react. I’d no intention of seeing Lorraine but I had to mend bridges. Emily is all I care about. You have to trust me, Virginia.”

“No more weekends apart,” she said when their anger finally subsided. “You’ve signed O’Callaghan’s upmarket register for the last time. If Emily wants to see you she comes here. Otherwise, you don’t come home to me.”

In bed, she waited for him to join her. We should be making love now, she thought, banishing angry words, finding the energy to keep going.

At last, unable any longer to endure the empty space, she entered the living-room. He was slumped in front of the television, aimlessly changing channels. The stations flicked in rapid succession, weather forecasts, shoot-outs, political debate, war zones. She removed the remote control from his hand and switched off the television. Without a word he rose and followed her.