CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

 

By the time Oona reached her mother’s, a mixture of strange emotions were buzzing around in her head. Jack Walsh had been kind. He was someone she felt comfortable talking about Eamon and Jacqueline with. On the way to the bus, he had asked her about Sean, and as they conversed freely, he’d said, ‘You’re an absolute brick, Oona. I don’t know anyone so brave.’

‘I’m not brave, Jack. I’m just trying to survive, with a son to bring up.’ Would he still think so, if he knew how reckless she had been in the past?

That night her father lit a fire in the lounge. Oona’s eyes drooped and she could hardly wait to get to bed. But when she lay down, her mind began to race. The mattress was uneven; a relic of happier times when she and Connie used their bed as a trampoline. The memory made her smile, but even so, it took her ages to get settled, and she dozed uneasily. At 4.30am, she got up, dressed and went downstairs.

Her father was already up, scooping tea from the caddy into the big brown teapot. When he saw her in the kitchen doorway, he put out an extra cup. ‘Couldn’t you sleep, love?’ He sat down to finish his porridge.

‘On that lumpy mattress, Dad?’ she joked.

‘Ah, sure, if you decide to stay, I’ll invest in a new one, so I will.’ He picked up his lunchbox, and kissed her forehead. ‘I have to go. Will you take your mother up a cuppa before you leave?’

Her father’s suggestion to live at home would certainly be a temporary solution to her problem. Her concern for Sean’s safety, and what Vinnie was capable of, consumed her thoughts. Not knowing when he would make his next move left her feeling powerless to get on with her life. He would be planning something, she was sure of it. It was as though she was on permanent vigil, and close to slipping into a deep depression she felt she would not be able to shake. Her stomach rumbled but she couldn’t eat, and it left her feeling lethargic.

How could she possibly go to work feeling like this? Having lied to her parents about meeting Monica, she was about to do the same to her employer.

She was on her third cup of coffee when she heard Sean moving about upstairs. She got up and began to cook his breakfast.

A short time later, he sauntered into the kitchen, still in his pyjamas. ‘Why didn’t you call me?’

‘I thought I’d let you sleep in.’

‘Why, what’s up?’

‘Nothing’s up,’ she said casually. ‘I’m having a day off work and I thought we might do something together.’

‘Like what?’

‘I don’t know. We’ll think of something.’ Something as far away from the house as possible was what she had in mind.

‘But, me and Tommy, we . . . we’re going swimming in Bray.’

‘It’s not very warm today, Sean. Won’t the sea be cold?’

‘’Course not. Anyway, some of the lads from the football team will be there. I can’t wait for the football season to start again, Mam.’ He yawned and flopped down at the table.

Oona was disappointed that he preferred to spend time with Tommy, just when she needed his company. She placed his breakfast of beans on toast, topped with a poached egg, in front of him. ‘How long are you planning to stay in Bray?’

‘All day. We’re going to the cinema afterwards.’

School holidays were proving expensive but it was worth it, knowing that Sean would be out of the area.

‘I want you to come straight back to Grandma’s afterwards.’

‘Why? Can’t I go to Tommy’s house? And why are we staying at Grandma’s?’

Trying to keep the anxiety out of her voice, she said, ‘Please, Sean, just do as you’re told. Grandad needs help in the garden. The holidays will be over soon, and you’ve hardly spent any time with him.’ She glanced towards the clock. ‘When you’ve finished your breakfast, get dressed. I’m just nipping to the phone box. I won’t be long.’

 

***

 

That evening, Oona crossed the bridge towards her sister’s house. She was a bundle of nerves. Connie threw open the door and welcomed her into the plush-carpeted, narrow hallway. A pretty chandelier, hanging from the high ceiling, was the main feature.

‘It’s great to see you, Connie. How was your holiday?’

‘Oh, it was grand. You’d have loved it, Oona. But the coach was delayed on the way back and we didn’t get home until after midnight. Anyway, come on through. Dessie’s gone to the newsagent’s for cigarettes. He won’t be long.’

Finding Connie alone was a relief for Oona. Dessie had strongly disapproved of Vinnie from the start and she was dreading his reaction. The last thing she wanted was for him to think she had encouraged Vinnie by going to meet him.

The living room was tidy, and the chandelier hanging from the ceiling was new. Connie was always spending money on the house, but tonight Oona barely noticed as she settled herself in the beige leather sofa under the window.

‘How’s Sean? I’ve brought him back a present.’ Connie sat down next to Oona, curling her legs underneath her.

‘He’s fine. He wanted to come over with me, but I need to talk to you alone.’

‘Why? What’s up?’ Connie gave her a worried look. It was a loaded question – one Oona was desperate to answer.

‘Vinnie Kelly’s in Dublin.’ She blurted it out before she could change her mind. Her head felt like it was about to explode.

‘What?’ Connie cried. ‘How do you know that? I don’t know how he has the gall to come back here after what he’s done.’

‘He wants to see Sean.’

‘Don’t tell me. You’ve not been to see him – have you?’

‘I went to meet him in McCarthy’s on Sunday night. Now I’m worried that he’ll try to see Sean behind my back.’

‘You did what? Are you mad, Oona Quinn? You know what he’s like. Does Dad know?’

‘Of course not! Look, Connie, what else could I do? He threatened to call at the house. I was worried sick about Sean.’

‘We can’t keep this to ourselves. Dessie will hit the roof, but we have to tell him.’

‘I don’t believe this,’ Dessie said when he heard. ‘I thought you’d burnt your bridges as far as Vinnie Kelly’s concerned. What in God’s name possessed you? Haven’t you learnt anything from the past?’

His harsh tone upset her, and she sniffed into her handkerchief.

‘Don’t be so hard on her,’ Connie said. ‘She did what she thought was best.’

Dessie lit a cigarette, and smoke swirled round the room. ‘Let me get this straight. Tell me exactly what happened when you went to McCarthy’s.’

Once she began talking, she could not stop herself, pouring out everything including her worry over Sean’s safety.

Neither of them interrupted. Then, stubbing out his half-smoked cigarette, Dessie sat down. He leaned forward in his armchair and rubbed his hands over his face several times. ‘Do you really believe he’s here to see Sean, Oona?’

‘Why? Don’t you?’

Dessie shook his head. ‘I know one thing: that scoundrel has more than Sean on his mind.’

‘What do you mean?’ Connie asked.

‘This is Vinnie Kelly we’re talking about. He’s never been one for domestic bliss now, has he? Emotional blackmail, that’s what it is. Am I the only one that can see through the blighter? Couldn’t you have waited until we got back?’ he said. ‘You acted foolishly. What were you thinking of?’

‘I . . . thought I could . . . I just wanted him to go away and leave us alone.’ When Oona could no longer hold back her tears, she sobbed bitterly. ‘This is entirely my fault. I should never have gone to see him.’

Sighing, Dessie stood up and began pacing the room.

‘Don’t get upset,’ Connie placed her arm around her sister. ‘You’re not to blame,’ she said kindly, glaring at her husband. ‘He could have come back at any time.’

Dessie walked over to the small cabinet in the corner of the room and took out a bottle of wine and some glasses. He poured them each a glass.

‘I’m sorry, Oona. Try this. You’re trembling. You mustn’t let him scare you like this.’

She wasn’t scared of Vinnie; more upset by the fact that her brother-in-law thought she’d gone there without any thought whatsoever. She sipped her drink, and would have downed the lot, if it would take away the pain and the shame she was again bringing to her family. She had never seen her brother-in-law so angry and was beginning to wish she hadn’t involved him.

‘He won’t have changed, you know.’

‘I know that, Dessie. Do you really think I want him in our lives?’

‘Well, you took a risk.’

‘I . . . I’d no choice?’

‘Of course you had.’

‘For the love o’ God, Dessie, will you stop going on at her!’ Connie was on her feet. ‘What are we to do?’

‘Well, I’m not going to stand by and let that villain upset this family again.’ He clenched and unclenched his hands.

‘But you could end up getting hurt,’ Connie said.

‘I’ll be fine, but others might get hurt if this is allowed to get out of hand. Your father mustn’t get wind of this. And there’s your mother to consider.’

‘Do you think I want to hurt them again?’

He placed both hands on his head. ‘Let me think.’

The room fell silent, apart from the ticking of the mantel clock. ‘Do you have any idea where he’s staying, Oona?’

‘I don’t know,’ she sniffed. ‘He looked as if he hadn’t two pennies to rub together.’

‘In that case, he’ll be staying in a hostel. Leave it to me now,’ he said, and poured more wine into her empty glass.