It's All About Him (3 page)

'Thanks a lot,' he said dryly, heading into the shop.

Zoe grinned. 'Ah, sure it's not like you need the money, boss!'

'That's right,' he called over his shoulder, 'I'm just here for the fun.' He smiled to himself as he went to unlock the shop door of Better Books. It was true he didn't need the money. When he took early retirement from the civil service he had enough put aside to live a very comfortable life indeed but he wasn't the sort of man to sit back and watch the world go by.

Returning to live in his home town and taking over the local bookshop was exactly the challenge he'd needed. He loved working here and enjoyed the eclectic mix of people who came through his door. It attracted all sorts from the young girl looking for a juicy romance, to the academic in search of a book of poetry, to the art collector attracted by the prints and landscapes that graced the window and walls.

The tea shop had been Julia's idea as there was such a large, open space at the back of the shop and now the café brought in more money than the bookshop with a steady flow of customers throughout the day and a positive frenzy some lunchtimes. All in all, it was a thriving business and a valuable asset but Ronan wouldn't dream of selling it. He was only sixty-one and in good health so hopefully it would be a long time before he would have to consider that.

Ideally he'd love to pass it on to his son but Conor had no interest in taking on the business. He was a farmer and Ronan had never seen a man who enjoyed his job more. Though there had been no farmers in the family and Conor had largely grown up on a housing estate near Dublin, the outdoor life seemed to be in his blood. Conor reminded Ronan a lot of his own father – a solid, bear of a man with a quiet voice and a rather dry sense of humour.

Today was Conor's thirty-second birthday and Ronan was half hoping it would be marked with an engagement. For as well as being a wonderful cook, Dee Hewson was also his son's girlfriend. Ronan had to applaud his taste. Quite apart from being a very pretty girl with serious brown eyes and a fine figure, Dee was both kind and clever. Ronan had no idea how she managed to run that house, a business and raise a child and he admired her hugely.

Julia, however, didn't share his views. While she acknowledged that Dee was a great cook and a loving mother it was clear that she was suspicious of Dee's single-parent status. It was quite common these days, Ronan pointed out, and they had no idea of the history concerning Sam's father, but Julia dismissed his arguments. 'She's hiding something,' she said. 'I bet he's a married man. She wouldn't be the first to get pregnant in an attempt to get a man to leave his wife.' The fact that all of this conjecture had no basis in reality made no difference to Julia and so Ronan gave up arguing the point. He did, however, make it very clear to his wife that she'd better not meddle in their son's love-life. Ronan had never seen Conor as comfortable with a woman before and he was wonderful with the little lad.

The bell on the door jangled noisily and Ronan turned to greet his first customer of the day. His smile broadened when Vi Valentine staggered in, weighed down with canvases. 'Vi, I wasn't expecting you! I thought you were in Youghal doing seascapes.'

'It rained and you know how I hate the bloody rain. Still, I got some nice harbour scenes before the weather broke.'

Ronan relieved her of her load. 'Let's take them through to the back and I'll get you a cuppa.'

Vi followed him into the café and waved at Zoe. 'Hello, darling, how are you?'

'Don't talk too loudly,' Ronan warned, 'Zoe's a little sensitive this morning.'

Vi laughed. 'Good for you, girl. Oh, to be young again.'

'I'd say you were a wild woman.' Zoe grinned.

Vi's green eyes twinkled. 'I've had my moments.'

'Vi, these are wonderful,' Ronan marvelled as he stood the four canvases against the wall and studied them.

'I am quite pleased with them,' Vi said modestly. 'There's something wonderful about the light down there at this time of year; quite, quite beautiful.'

'Is that where you come from, Vi?' Zoe asked curiously.

'Lord, no, I was born and raised in Banford.'

'But I thought you only moved here a couple of years ago.'

'Moved back here,' Vi corrected.

'There must be something about this place,' Zoe marvelled.

With her café-au-lait skin, blonde afro hair and hazel eyes, Zoe was a perfect mix of her Irish mother and Ethiopian father and it was a shock to most people when they heard her strong Dublin accent. When her family moved to Banford – Zoe's dad had accepted a position as registrar in the local private clinic – she had been horrified at the thought of moving out of the city and had said she'd find herself a flat in Dublin instead.

As it turned out, though, Banford had worked its magic on her and she hardly went near Dublin these days. Her original plans to go to Dublin City University to study marketing had been scrapped and instead she came to work for Ronan and put her studies on hold.

She looked wistfully at the paintings. 'I wish I could paint.'

Ronan nodded at the walls of the café.

'You can have a go in here if you like; it could do with a fresh coat.'

'Ha ha.' Zoe made a face at her boss. 'Coffee,Vi?'

'Yes, please, and a scone would be nice, too,' she added.

'Sorry, Dee hasn't been in yet.' Zoe looked worriedly at the clock.

'I'll give her a call,' Ronan said and left them to chat.

'Sorry, Ronan,' Dee answered her phone, breathless, 'just loading up. I'll be with you in five.'

'Okay, love, I was afraid that Sam might be sick again.'

'No, he's as right as rain this week.'

'That's good. I'll see you soon.' He hung up and went back to join the two women in the café. 'She's on her way. So Vi,' he said, pulling out a chair and sitting opposite the artist, 'what price are you putting on these?'

'One hundred?' Vi suggested, taking a sip of her coffee.

'Too low,' Ronan retorted. 'Way too low.'

'Absolutely,' Zoe agreed as she placed a coffee in front of her boss. 'You could easily get twice that.'

'You think?' Vi said doubtfully.

'If the paintings are displayed properly, I'm sure they'll sell in no time.' Ronan tugged on his white beard as he pondered how he could rearrange his stock to showcase Vi's work to full advantage.

'So why did you leave Banford?' Zoe asked Vi when Ronan had to go through to the shop to tend to a customer.

'Itchy feet,' Vi said, smiling.

'And where did you go?'

'Here and there.'

'You're very mysterious,' Zoe said with a grin.

'I don't mean to be, there just isn't much to say. I've had quite a boring life.'

'Were you always an artist?'

'Lord, no,' Vi laughed. 'I only started painting a few years ago.'

'And yet you're so good!' Zoe shook her head.

'Well, thank you!'

'Can you give me a hand?' Dee said, staggering in the door of the bookshop, her face hidden behind a pile of plastic food containers.

Ronan rushed to her aid and brought the food through to the café.

'Hi, Zoe.' Dee followed him through.

'Hey, Dee.'

Ronan poured Dee a cup of tea and she took it over to Vi's table.

'I didn't think you were due back for another week,' Dee said.

'Hello, darling! Rain, I'm afraid,' Vi replied.

'Oh, hard luck.'

'She didn't do too badly.' Ronan gestured at the paintings leaning against the wall.

'Oh, Vi,' Dee breathed, 'they're fantastic.'

'Well, thank you,' Vi said with a regal nod.

'I think I might buy one,' Ronan announced. 'That stormy scene would look very nice over our fireplace.'

Vi and Dee exchanged a look. 'It'll never happen if
she
has anything to do with it,' Vi muttered when Ronan had wandered off again.

'I'm sure it will,' Dee said not altogether convincingly.

Vi and Julia were complete opposites who had never got on. Julia sneered at Vi's hippy clothes and made comments about mutton and lamb and Vi called Julia a do-gooder who stuck her nose in where it wasn't wanted.

'I can't believe she's Conor's mother,' she would say to Dee. 'He obviously inherited all of Ronan's genes.'

Privately Dee agreed, but she wouldn't dream of saying so; it would be very disloyal to Conor. She drained her cup and stood up.

'Going already?' Vi looked disappointed.

'Sorry, I must get back to work.'

'Will we see you tonight?' Ronan asked, walking with her to the door.

'Sure,' Dee said, stretching up to kiss his cheek. 'See you then.'

'Birthday tea?' Lisa giggled. 'I haven't been to one of them since I was twelve.'

'Shut up and pass me the garlic.' Dee continued to chop onions.

Lisa rummaged in the vegetable rack behind her. 'I'd have thought you'd be baking a cake, not making chilli.'

'I'll leave that to Julia.'

'And what does Conor think of this? I mean he's thirty-two, for God's sake.'

Dee shrugged. 'He's like his dad. They go along with whatever Julia wants because it's easier that way.'

Lisa rolled her eyes. 'Men; they do anything to avoid hassle, don't they?'

'You can't really blame them; I mean, it is Julia we're talking about.'

'She is a total control freak.' Lisa helped herself to a muffin from the cake tin on the table. 'I don't know how they put up with her.'

'Ronan just switches off. In fact, they both do,' Dee said as she peeled and crushed four cloves of garlic. 'They tell her what she wants to hear and then do their own thing anyway.'

Lisa looked unconvinced. 'You're still all going to a birthday tea at seven,' she pointed out.

Dee chuckled. 'True, but what harm is it? I'll probably be just as bad when Sam's grown up. By the time he's sixteen he'll be dying to move out!'

'He won't move far, though. He'll be back to eat and to drop off his washing.'

'No way,' Dee retorted, 'he can look after himself.'

'Yeah, sure, I believe you.'

Dee sighed as she poured some olive oil into a large frying pan and turned on the gas. 'Yeah, who am I kidding? I'll probably be even worse than Julia. You know, she still irons Conor's shirts.'

'She doesn't!'

Dee nodded. 'He says it keeps her happy, so why should he object.'

'I don't know how she gets time to do it all. I mean, there's the nursing home, the parish council, the Women's Institute.'

'The church flowers,' Dee reminded her.

'And she cooks, cleans and irons too!' Lisa shook her head. 'What a life. You know, when you and Conor marry he'll probably expect you to do all of that.'

'Who said anything about marriage?' Dee scraped the onions and garlic into the pan and stirred.

'Maybe that's what this tea is all about,' Lisa said, her eyes lighting up. 'Maybe he's going to propose!'

Dee looked at her, horrified. 'In front of his mum and dad?'

'Ah, so you don't mind the idea of a proposal, it's just how and when he does it you're worried about,' Lisa surmised.

'Lisa, haven't you got a nappy to change or puke to clean up?'

Lisa glanced at the clock and jumped to her feet. 'Damn, I didn't realize what time it was. I'd better go or Martha will murder me. She was supposed to go home ten minutes ago and she's got a hot date this evening – just like you!'

'Get out.' Dee shook her spoon at Lisa's fleeing back but she was smiling as she stirred the mince into the pan.

Lisa always made her smile. She teased and joked continuously but there was no malice in her and Dee had never seen anyone as good with children; such a shame that she had none of her own. And despite her constant smile and effortless good humour, Dee knew Lisa would give anything to have children.

It was never going to happen with Ger; at least, Dee shuddered, she hoped not. Ger Clancy was a waste of space and it was clear to everyone except Lisa that he was just using her. Lisa, however, couldn't do enough for him. She talked about Julia waiting on Ronan and Conor but she was worse. She would love nothing better than to move in with Ger and to clean up after him. Dee couldn't understand how an otherwise clever girl could be so gullible. Ger never took her out, saying he preferred to keep Lisa all to himself – but it was because he was mean. He said he preferred her cooking to any restaurant rubbish – but he was mean. And the couple of times Conor and Dee had met them for a drink, Ger had rigged it so that he only ever bought a round when the girls weren't having anything – he was mean.

Dee couldn't stand it. Ger had a reasonable job working in the council, he had his own house, and yet he lived off Lisa at every opportunity. Conor went mental one night when they went on to the local Chinese restaurant and Ger had chosen the cheapest food on the menu and then produced a calculator when they were splitting the bill. 'He argued with me because I'd had the spring roll and he'd only had the soup and it was twenty-five cents cheaper – twenty-five cents!' he'd told Dee.

Dee chuckled as she added chilli powder, chopped tomatoes and tomato purée to the pan. Maybe Sheila was right and they should have a night out. Lisa might meet someone nice and finally dump Ger. Though that was unlikely in a small town like Banford where everyone knew everyone else and there were few eligible men available. Still, they could always go into Dublin city and really do something special. Maybe Sam could even spend the night with Aunt Pauline; surely one night with the old dragon wouldn't kill him?

Anyway, she had noticed that Pauline was slightly less austere when Sam was around. She certainly wasn't the strict disciplinarian that Dee remembered from her childhood. Pauline had taken over when Dee's mother died of breast cancer when she was only nine and she was a very different person from her softer, younger sister.

She shivered slightly as she remembered times when all she'd wanted was a cuddle and what she'd got was a sharp direction to 'pull herself together'.

Her dad hadn't been much better. He'd been devastated when he lost his beloved wife and had been too caught up in his own grief to notice or care about his young daughter's feelings. As the years had passed, Arthur Hewson had become more remote, if that was indeed possible, and by the time he died just after Dee left school, she didn't feel as if she'd lost a father; rather, she felt as though she'd buried a loved but distant relative.