The family silver was laid out carefully on the dining-room table. Goblets, platters, butter dishes, a cream and jam set, teapots and milk jugs lay in glistening array before Mary Abernethy’s satisfied eyes. She had been collecting pieces for years in auction rooms around the county, adding to what her in-laws had left in the house when they died. It was a handsome collection by any standards, though grudgingly she had to admit that her husband’s public life had garnered its own fair share of silverware. If it had not been spoiled by the engraving of his name and that of the blasted party she might have the same regard for it as she did for the pieces she had squirrelled herself.
The entire collection was taken down from the mahogany sideboards on the first day of each season and Mary Abernethy applied herself with relish to the task of polishing it. When the job was finished she would turn on the crystal chandelier in the centre of the room in order to admire her glittering handiwork. She was on the last piece when she heard the latch on the back door. Presuming it was Con, back from Shanahan’s or wherever he had taken himself off to, she polished the handle of the silver tray while bile rose within her. The door opened behind her and the lights from the hallway flooded in. If he has come back with a bellyful of drink and he feels like a fight he has come to the right place, she thought. Her son’s voice startled her.
‘Hi, Mam. Still taking excellent care of my inheritance, I see.’
‘Jesus, Mary and Joseph, what are you doing here, Dan? Is there something wrong?’
‘Well, you tell me. According to Columbo, who more or less kidnapped me in the hospital, you and Dad are about to kill one another. Some misunderstanding, he said?’
Dan thought it best to keep the whole thing low key, pretending that Columbo had only given him the bare bones of the story and not all the grisly details. There was still an outside chance that the normal and manageable level of hostility native to his parents’ relationship could be satisfactorily restored.
‘That lousy runt! I cannot believe he dragged you away from your studies. Do you know the night before last I caught him coming up the stairs to talk to me with his sweaty hands on my banisters and his ignorant boots traipsing across my carpets?
‘Your father and I will sort this out – or more to the point your father will. That little sneak Columbo had no right—’
Dan cut across her. He had listened to her berate his father and Columbo for as long as he could remember. It was doubtful that it would get them anywhere useful.
‘Just what exactly is going on, Mam? I couldn’t get a straight word out of Columbo. First it was nothing at all and then you were going to the papers to blow the whistle on him. Will you just fill me in, for God’s sake?’
Mary Abernethy put down the silver platter, irritated a little by the fact that she had not given it her full attention but irritated more by the fact that Columbo, obviously acting on Con’s instructions, had the temerity to drag Dan into all of this. There were it seemed no depths to which her husband would not stoop and no limit to how far his cronies, particularly his brainless sidekick, would go to pull him out of the firing line.
‘We had better make tea, Dan. You must be gasping for a cup. I know I am.’
Dan followed his mother into the kitchen. It looked as if Columbo had overstated the case a little bit. His mother was undoubtedly irritated with Con but on balance she seemed calm enough. So much for having to talk her down from the roof! He would have a word or two for Columbo before he headed back to Dublin in the morning. It would take some time to bring Consultant Mackey back on side and all for what?
Mary Abernethy brewed a pot of tea, one bag apiece and one for the pot. When the china mugs were out and the tea ready to pour she allowed herself to tell her side of the story. She felt bad for burdening Dan but it was lovely to have him home and she had not confided in anyone else, fearing their judgement but above all not wanting their pity.
‘Your father has been lying to me. The lying is nothing new but this time he has taken it too far. His latest stunt is just a bit sicker than I thought even he was capable of.’
Dan’s heart began to sink. It obviously was just as bad as Columbo had intimated. Mary Abernethy was on a roll now and she paused only to take a restorative sip from her tea.
‘Your father has been messing around with a young girl from the area. I’m not sure to what extent but there have been trips to the apartment in Dublin and dinners out. Leda Clancy is her name. You probably know the family. They live out in Briartullog, the townland that runs above the graveyard?’
‘I know who she is. She works in Shanahan’s as a lounge girl.’
‘Well, that she is the kind of girl that would be working in a pub when she should be attending to her homework does not surprise me. Your father spends enough time in that drinking pit to pick up some fluff on the way out. She must be a bit simple really. I mean, your father was never exactly a playboy but at fifty-seven and balding the girl must be a bit lacking if she thinks he is a catch.’
‘I know Dad has done some dodgy stuff businesswise and hasn’t always been up front with you about money and that, but this, Mam, this is different. Is there any chance that you could be reading too much into something innocent?’
‘Your father wouldn’t know innocent if it walked up and struck him on the face. I would never have dragged you into it, but seeing as he sent his lackey for you the least I can do is to tell you the truth. It’s a disappointment to you, I can see that in your face, but I am well used to the disappointment that comes with being Mrs Con Abernethy. I have supported his career even when I didn’t feel like it and he repays me with the disrespect of picking up a teenager and risking making us the laughing stock of Leachlara. He won’t get away with this.’
‘Well, are you going to go public and if you are what do you think that will achieve? If you are worried about people knowing, surely we should keep a lid on things. The whole thing is mortifying. Is there no end to the trouble that you two can create for yourselves?’
‘I would never do anything to jeopardize your future or your career, Dan, but I had to make some sort of threat to get his attention. I wanted him to think about how long it would take for his ministerial ambitions to evaporate under the scrutiny of a few journalists with the scent of a scandal. He has a responsibility to be discreet and not show me up in Leachlara. This is my home more than it is his now. I am the one that’s here to face the people.’
‘So you are just playing games? You don’t even care if he is really sleeping with her, do you? It’s just the scandal, the way it looks to people. Everything is just about appearances with you both. Can’t we sort it out in this house between ourselves without having everyone laughing at us?’
‘Oh, the squirming and the worried looks have been enjoyable. That little rancid sidekick of his has sweated more than an Alsatian in heat in the last week and it has been worth it for that alone!’
‘So how long are you going to dangle him before you put him out of his misery? The stress of the whole thing could bring on a heart attack.’
‘I wouldn’t worry about your father’s heart, Dan. I doubt his body devotes much time to its upkeep.’
‘Please stop talking about him like that. I wouldn’t let him say ugly things about you so—’
‘Look, I’m sorry. It wasn’t my choice to involve you, but maybe you can be a go-between as I can’t look at that man now.’
‘Charming. Stuck in the middle of this fucking mess. Go on, let me have it. What do you need to bring this to an end?’
‘I want that Leda girl out of Leachlara, as far away as she can manage.’
‘She is only sixteen or seventeen, Mam. I think she had better stay with her family.’ Dan pleaded for common sense. Mary Abernethy wasn’t listening, so in thrall was she to her own grand plan.
‘Then I want a renewal of our marriage vows ceremony in Leachlara and a second honeymoon, in Rome maybe – although I haven’t decided if that is the most desirable destination yet. The travel agent in Tipperary did say that Rome was being replaced by Venice and Florence as the most popular place. Anyway, somewhere in Italy definitely.’
‘You are joking, aren’t you, Mam? I wasn’t aware that the first honeymoon was such a roaring success that you would want to relive the experience. You can’t stand the man – why on earth would you want to go to Rome with him?’
‘He doesn’t even have to get on the same plane. Just as long as he doesn’t show his face in Leachlara or in the Dáil bar for the duration I will be happy. He can go to his brother’s place in Aughasallagh. That would keep him nicely out of harm’s way. In fact, now that you mention it, your father would be the ruination of Rome. Hanging around with the party yes men for all these years has done nothing for his conversation skills. And you can tell him in no uncertain terms that he got off lightly because, of all things, I would not upset you, Dan.’
‘God, I think it’s a bit late in the day to be worrying about my feelings. It never stopped you pulling each other to ribbons before.’
‘Don’t be cross with me. I couldn’t bear that.’ Mary Abernethy had adopted her wheedling tone accompanied by the little-girl eyes that made her son embarrassed even to look her straight in the eye.
‘I’m not cross. It’s fine. I will talk to him, although I imagine he will faint laughing at your little revenge drama.’
‘You are the best thing I have done, Dan Abernethy, and you are the sole reason I stay with your father.’
Dan muttered under his breath that sometimes he wished she didn’t bother but his mother was not listening. She busied herself putting the milk jug into the fridge and washing her mug. Dan looked at the mottled skin that the milk had formed on his untouched tea. No matter how many times he felt he was making good his escape from this house and all the unpleasant memories it held it could always draw him back and threaten to sink him. He had been in the house less than an hour after nearly two months’ absence and already he felt he was suffocating in a swell of negativity and small-mindedness. This house may have reared him but more than that it had filled him with an instinct to flee for his own good.
Mary continued her fastidious clean-up oblivious to her son’s discomfort. It was so nice to have him home, especially tonight, when he was not monopolized by his father. She went to bed deciding that she would make a habit of visiting Dan in Dublin. She missed him and she knew he missed her too. He was just too proud to show it. As she fell asleep she congratulated herself on rearing him well – and rearing him mostly alone.
Dan spotted his father’s car was pulled on to the grass verge just inside the entrance gates. He had waited up until well past midnight hoping to talk to him but there had been no sign of Con Abernethy. His mother didn’t know where her husband had gone. She wasn’t, she reminded Dan, privy to that sort of information. The phone in the hallway had remained resolutely silent, so Dan concluded that his father must be with his party workers at a meeting or more likely at a lock-in at Shanahan’s or Power’s. In fact, Dan thought Columbo had probably been going straight to meet him when he had left himself off at the house to defuse his mother. Now out on a stroll before bed to clear his head and to stop a headache in its tracks, he could make out his father’s Mercedes with the headlights dimmed. He walked towards it, afraid of what he might find but compelled to look nonetheless. Surely, he thought, he hasn’t brought Leda Clancy here? But what else could he be doing, hiding like a thief in the grounds of his own home in the early hours of the morning? His pace quickened. His heart pounded in his chest, echoing the gravel crunching beneath his feet. He reached the navy Mercedes ready for anything at all except perhaps for what he found. Con Abernethy’s head was tilted back against the soft pillow of the headrest. His eyes were closed and tears were streaming down his face.