The Glass Lake (83 page)

“H
OW
did you get home?” Ivy asked, taking the small bag from Lena's hand and removing the wet coat from her shoulders.

“Home?” Lena's face was blank.

“Well, back here to London?”

“I came by boat and train. It was easier. No talking to people, no booking…no giving your name. You just get on.” The voice was flat and dead.

“You came by boat and train from Brighton?”

“I wasn't in Brighton.”

“Yes you were, Lena. I rang you there.”

“Oh, then? Yes, that's right.”

“So where were you since?”

“Ireland.”

“Ireland?”

“Lough Glass. I went to see them.”

“I don't believe you.”

“Yes.”

“What did they say?”

“They didn't see me.”

“They threw you out?”

“No, they didn't know I was there.”

“Look, Lena, could I ask you have you had anything to eat…?”

“I don't know.”

“Suppose I were to make you something now…what would you like? I won't offer you turkey…”

“I don't mind, I haven't had any turkey this year.” A very wan little smile, but it was better than nothing.

“Well, soup and a turkey sandwich?”

“A very small one, Ivy.”

The phone rang. “Wouldn't you know,” Ivy said. “The operator said it was a call from Ireland.”

“Kit!” Lena leaped up. “Give it to me.”

“No, we don't know…” Ivy tried to take the phone back.

“Hello,” a man's voice said. “Could I speak to Ivy please? This is Stevie Sullivan, I'm Kit McMahon's boyfriend.”

“This is Ivy,” Lena said.

“Well, it's about Lena. Kit wants to know is Lena all right? Has she phoned you?”

“Why isn't she phoning herself?” Lena wanted to know.

“She's sick and she's in bed.”

“Is she bad, too bad to phone?”

“No, I think it's a kind of secret and she's not meant to be heard phoning from home.”

“What do you mean, you think? You must know if you're phoning. You must know everything.”

“Ivy,” the man said. “I'm Kit's friend, she asked me to do this for her. She's distraught over someone called Lena. I don't know, truthfully I don't. But I want to go back across the street now and tell her if Lena's all right. Is she?”

“Yes,” Lena said slowly. “Tell her she is.”

“Excuse me, but could I give her just a bit more information than that? I don't want to know who Lena is, but Kit was very ill and distressed the other night and she kept calling for Lena. I don't know what it is, but it's important.”

“Yes,” Lena said in a flat voice. “It is important.”

“So?” He waited.

“So if you could say that Lena got home fine, by boat and train and that…and that she's fine now and will write soon, a long long letter.”

“She's very upset, is there anything you could say that would sort of prove I've spoken to you?” He was going to do this right, he wouldn't go back to Kit unless he had a message to convince her.

Lena paused for a moment.

“You could tell her…I suppose you could tell her that the hotel and the whole dance was a credit to her, that nobody could have believed the Central Hotel could look so well.”

“And that would prove that I talked to you?”

“Yes, it would, I think.”

There was another pause before Lena spoke. “You really don't know what it's about?” Lena asked.

“No.”

“Thank you,” she said.

“Thank you too, Ivy,” he said, and hung up.

         

He ran across the road to tell Kit. He repeated the message word by word. When he told her about the praise for the Central Hotel she looked at him with two eyes as big as dinner plates.

“Say it again.”

He did.

“You weren't talking to Ivy. You were talking to Lena.”

She burst into tears.

         

Ivy helped Lena back to the table. “Well now…wasn't that timing? Suppose he had rung half an hour ago, I wouldn't have had anything to tell him.”

“Oh God,” Lena said.

“What do you mean?”

“She's confiding in him. She'll tell him and then she'll be in his power forever.”

“What do you mean?”

“Stevie Sullivan will know her secret. He'll have total power over her from now on. He'll make her do whatever he wants with her. And however badly he treats her she'll have to put up with it, because she can never escape. He knows her secret, he'll always be able to hold that over her.”

“Why do you hate him so much?”

“I saw him, Ivy. I was as near to them as I am to you. I saw them kissing, I saw her eyes as she looked at him…”

“She's going to fall in love…you don't want her to be a nun?”

“No, but I saw him, Ivy.”

“And what's wrong?”

“He was Louis all over again. He could have been Louis's son. Or his younger brother. She's going to do what I did. Look at the legacy I've given the child. To love someone who's going to break your heart.”

         

“Jim, there's a letter from Lena,” said Jessie.

“Oh, thank God. I thought she'd abandoned us totally. What does she say?”

“That's she's suffering from stress and her nerves, and that the doctor says it's overwork. And advised her to take some weeks off. She says she'll be back at the end of January.”

“Well, that's a relief that she goes to a doctor anyway.”

“And she does work too hard,” Jessie said.

“We've tried to stop her, get her to take time off.” Jim had, many times.

“She says she might go to Ireland for a while.” Jessie was studying the letter.

“That would be good. It's more restful over there. That's where they're from so they probably have friends and family.”

“She doesn't say anything about him.”

“Well, he'll probably go too.”

“She just says ‘I' all the time…there's no ‘We' mentioned at all.”

         

Clio was having lunch with Michael O'Connor's family. They seemed to be very taken with her, accepting her into their number.

“You will come to Mary Paula's wedding?” Michael's mother asked Clio.

“Yes, I'd love to, Mrs. O'Connor.” Things were going very well since New Year's Eve. Huge praise had been lavished on the festivities at the CHL, as it was now known among them all. The Central Hotel Lough Glass had done a great job.

Fingers O'Connor had been interested in every detail. “And how did your stepmother enjoy the dance? Maura Hayes?”

“She's my aunt, actually,” Clio said.

“She's Kit's stepmother,” Kevin O'Connor said.

“And Kit is…?”

“Kit's the one I used to fancy,” Kevin explained helpfully.

“Well, how is she?” Fingers was persistent.

“I think she's losing her marbles actually. She's involved with the local rake.”

“Maura Hayes?” cried Fingers in disbelief.

“No, Kit,” they all said.

Fingers was going to get no more information about that nice plump woman he had always had such hopes of having a dalliance with.

         

Kit was back in Dublin. By an unspoken agreement Stevie Sullivan was not mentioned when she met Clio.

“Tell me about Mary Paula's wedding. Is it going to be a big one?”

“No, dead quiet.”

“That doesn't sound like the O'Connors.”

“Apparently the lovely Louis hasn't any family…or any fit to field at a wedding.”

Clio sounded so snobby Kit hated her for a moment. Then she remembered who she really hated. “So how are they going to do it, then?”

“Not one of their own hotels. Marriage in University Church and sixteen people to lunch in a private room in the Russell. Just along Stephen's Green.”

“The Russell! Lord, how posh.”

“I know. I don't know what I'm going to wear. You wouldn't tell me where you keep getting these gorgeous outfits.”

“You want to wear an off-the-shoulder scarlet evening dress to a lunch in the Russell?”

“Oh all right. I'll never know. There's so much I'll never know about you, Kit.”

“And me about you. Aren't we women of mystery?”

“You look very pale. Are you better from whatever it was?”

“Yes, I'm just a bit tired.” In fact she had been awake all night waiting for the letter that Lena had promised to send. A letter explaining everything. But which hadn't arrived yet.

         

“Aunt Maura, it's Clio. Do you remember that lovely little fur cape you wore at the dance?”

“Hello Clio. How nice to hear from you. All the way from Dublin.”

“Yes. Yes, well, I can't talk long. But I was going to ask you a great favor.”

“What's that?”

“I was wondering would you lend it to me for a wedding I'm going to. I really want to look terrific and I think it would be smashing over my cream-colored suit.”

“You're very young for furs, Clio. They're really for older women like me.”

“I know what you mean, but your one was particularly nice. It was really more suitable for a younger person altogether.”

“Oh really,” Maura said.

Clio tried to retrieve it. “What I meant was it looked so smart on you.”

“Good, I'm glad you liked it.”

“So I was wondering…” Maura let the pause rest between them. “I was wondering if you'd lend it to me. I'd be so careful of it…”

“No, I'm sorry.” Maura's voice was cool. “I'd love to be able to help, but that's a very special gift and I don't want to leave it out of my hands.”

         

Stevie came to Dublin four nights a week, and on every one of those nights he and Kit went out together. They agreed that they meet out. The temptations of the bedroom, the quiet little bed-sit where no one would notice who came into the building and who left, had too many dangers.

Stevie wanted to be true to his promise. If staying with Kit meant staying out of bed with her he said that was the deal; he wanted to be with her.

They sat in chip shops and held hands. They took the bus to Dun Laoghaire and walked along the pier in the wind and rain. They went to the pictures in the big cinemas in O'Connell Street. They met no other people. They didn't need anyone.

And who would they meet? Philip, whose face would break both their hearts. Clio, who thought that Kit was throwing her life away. Frankie, who was so wrapped up in Kevin O'Connor that she had time for no one else.

But they never tired of talking and touching and laughing. If anyone had asked her what they talked about, Kit thought one night, she couldn't tell. The time had flown, but she didn't know what they had spoken of. They didn't talk about his past. Or his wish to love her in a different way. As they never mentioned the woman that he had spoken to that day on the phone. The woman who remained a secret that he never wanted to know. One day Kit would tell him it was her mother, but not yet.

My dearest Kit
,

I have tried so many times. There's a wastepaper basket full of pages torn up, screwed into little balls. I think I had a sort of breakdown. That's all I can say. I hope it's over. But it won't be over really until Louis marries. It's on January 26th in Dublin. When it's all over and done with then I think I'll be back to normal again. Please believe me, Kit. Forgive me in this as you have in so many other things. Tell me you are well and strong. That you are back at work
.

I talked to Stevie. He thought it was Ivy but you know it wasn't. He sounded very concerned about you. As if he loved you a lot. I'm saying this
because I know you want to hear it. And also because I think it's true. This doesn't mean it's all for the best. I love you so much, Kit. Whatever happens remember that
.

Your loving mother,
Lena
.

Kit was very worried. Lena had used the word “mother” again in a letter. Did she really have a breakdown? What was her warning about Stevie? And most of all why was she warning her to remember that Lena loved her whatever happened? What could happen that hadn't happened already?

         

“Do you know what I'd love you to do?”

“No, I dread to think,” Kit said.

Clio's eyes were too bright. “Could you pinch Maura's cape for me to wear, she'll not notice it's gone. I'd pay your fare down to take it back after the wedding.”

“Are you out of your mind?” Kit asked.

“That's my line to you. You're the one who's mad, not me. You're the one whose name is up with Stevie Sullivan all over the place. My mother was asking me what you were up to.”

“I don't give a damn what your mother thinks, asks, or says.”

“You've been saying that as long as I remember,” Clio said.

“I must have had some reason. You always quote her as if she knows everything and the rest of us know nothing.”

“Why are we fighting?” Clio asked.

“Because you were very rude and hurtful to me, as you almost always are.”

“I'm sorry.”

“No you're not, you just want Maura's cape.”

“For a loan. Look at the way we lend each other everything, shoes, bags, lipsticks…”

“But those are ours, not someone else's.”

“She won't know.”

Kit paused. Imagine the irony that she was being asked to lend someone Lena's cape for Louis's wedding. Maybe Louis had given that cape to Mother. Years and years ago. Father didn't remember buying it. You'd remember buying a fur coat, for heaven's sake.