Tuesday

A tap on the door. “Eight o’clock,” he called, like he did every weekday.

Her eyes still closed, Carmel smiled. “Okay,” she called back, and listened to his footsteps going back down the stairs.

It wasn’t all sorted, far from it. He hadn’t said they could stay with him for good, he hadn’t said anything like that. What he’d said was for the moment, which could mean anything. She couldn’t relax, not completely.

And there was still the question of her getting a job. There was still no sign of anyone wanting to take her on. She would just have to keep on trying, every day until she found something.

But Barry had a granddad, it was official. And his granddad seemed to be okay with Barry being his grandson—not that he’d said anything, but she thought he was okay with it. And tomorrow Barry was going to start playschool, which would be good for him, even if thinking about it made her feel horribly lonely.

And his granddad knew now that Carmel had been telling the truth—which had somewhere along the way become the most important bit of all this.

She leaned over and kissed the top of Barry’s head. “Good mornin’, sleepyhead,” she said. “Time to get up.”

—————

“The thing is,” Irene said, lowering her cup, “Martin and I have been having some…difficulties.”

“Difficulties?” Her mother’s perfectly shaped eyebrows rose. “What kind of difficulties?”

Irene dabbed at her lips, leaving an imprint of cherry-red lipstick on her heavy linen napkin. “It’s hard to explain,” she said, wondering what had triggered her sudden impulse to confide—in her mother of all people. “We seem to have…drifted apart a bit lately.”

Her mother picked up the coffeepot and refilled Irene’s cup. “Darling, that’s perfectly normal in any marriage. Your father and I regularly drift apart. I shouldn’t worry about it.”

“You’re right,” Irene replied, adding a few drops of cream to her cup. “It’s nothing, I’m sure.”

“Put on your best outfit and get him to take you out to dinner,” her mother said. “Flatter him a bit, men love that.”

“I will,” Irene promised. “I’ll do that.”

The bleakness pooling inside her as she sipped coffee and nibbled almond biscuits so thin you could see right through them.

—————

The day at the lake must be going well, past six o’clock and no sign of Pauline’s car. Maybe they’d stopped for tea somewhere on the way home, decided to make a real day out of it, even though the sun had slid behind a cloud at around three and hadn’t been seen since. Hopefully Kevin had gotten his swim in early, before the chicken wings.

She hurried indoors, hauling her shopping bags with her. Barely enough time to put something together for dinner before she’d need to get ready for the art class. She opened the front door, thinking about beans on a toasted bagel, with a couple of rashers and a soft poached egg.

That would do nicely.

—————

As Zarek tucked his sketch pad into his bag the apartment door opened and Pilar walked in.

“You have luck?” he asked hopefully. Her third interview since the previous Monday.

She made a face as she unraveled her scarf. “Five childrens—​five! How I look after five childrens and clean house too? How? She think I am machine?”

“Five is big family,” Zarek agreed, zipping his bag closed, “but maybe childrens all good, maybe they help with jobs.”

Pilar flapped an arm out of her jacket sleeve, almost whacking him in the face. “Pah—no childrens help with jobs, childrens make more jobs.”

Zarek edged towards the door, hoping to make his escape before the subject of the café could be raised. “Well, I must—”

“Your boss say about me today?” Pilar demanded. “She give me job?”

“Not yet,” Zarek answered, his hand on the doorknob. “She very busy. Maybe tomorrow.” He opened the door and fled, Pilar’s indignant voice following him all the way down the stairs.

—————

A quick glance around the room confirmed what Irene had assumed—​there was no sign of Fiona. Of course she hadn’t come, she wasn’t the type for confrontations.

Not that Irene had been planning any kind of confrontation. In the unlikely event that Fiona had shown up at the life drawing class, Irene had planned to say nothing, to pretend their meeting on Saturday night hadn’t happened. She doubted very much that Fiona would approach her, let alone mention the encounter.

But now there was no need to pretend anything. She nodded at the others and took her usual place and began to lay out her materials as Audrey plugged in the fan heater and their model entered the room in her blue dressing gown.

“Anyone seen Fiona?” Meg asked, and Irene shook her head along with the other four.

—————

“By the way,” Audrey said just before the break, as they laid down pencils and pulled sheets off their boards, “I wanted to invite you all to my house for a little drinks party, as we’re finishing up next week. Just a glass of wine and some nibbles, nothing fancy. I was thinking Saturday night, say from eight to nine, so you’ll still have plenty of time to go out afterwards.”

“That’d be lovely,” Meg said. “Count me in.”

Zarek looked uncertain. “Maybe I work Saturday, I am not sure.”

“I don’t think I’ll manage it either,” James said. “It’s not that easy for me to get out in the evenings.”

Audrey’s smile slipped. “Oh, that’s a shame. Do try, both of you.” She looked at her one remaining student, uncharacteristically silent. Was she imagining it, or was Irene a little subdued this evening? “Irene? Can you make it?”

“Should do,” Irene said lightly. “Sweet of you to invite us.”

“I just wanted to do something small.” Audrey turned to her model, who was slipping on her shoes. “Are you free, Jackie?”

The girl looked pleasantly surprised—did she imagine Audrey would have issued an invitation in her company that didn’t include her?

“Thanks,” she said, “I’d love to.”

“Great, that’s settled then, Saturday it is. I’ll give Fiona a ring, hopefully she’ll be able to come too. Remind me to give you my address before you go home.”

The class trooped out for coffee and Audrey wrote Ring Fiona in her notebook before following them. Her first party, or whatever you wanted to call it, was officially on—even if the attendance might be less than she’d expected, only three definite guests out of a possible six. Still, she’d make the best of it, and maybe they’d all get there in the end, or most of them.

She walked slowly down the corridor towards the muted buzz of conversation in the lobby and joined the queue at the coffee station. Drinks, nibbles, music. A fire if the evening was chilly—​no, a fire either way; it made the room look much better. Dolly would have to be banished to Audrey’s bedroom in case anyone was allergic. Maybe softer lighting for the sitting room, get a few low-watt bulbs, add a bit of atmosphere.

She filled her cup with coffee. When you thought about it, it should hardly take any effort at all.

—————

The fabric of her sweatshirt was textured, like waffles, and colored the same shade of blue as tiles on swimming pools. Her eyes weren’t blue, they were grey, and fringed with dark lashes. Her eyebrows were thick and dark.

“Hello,” he said. “Fancy meeting you here.”

She smiled. “Only on Tuesdays.”

He sat next to her on the low wall. “I tell Charlie a bedtime story at break time,” he said. “That’s why I go to the car, she made me promise.” Feeling the need to explain, not wanting her to think he was avoiding everyone.

“That’s nice. Make sure she doesn’t tell Eoin though—I’d hate the pressure.”

He laughed.

And then she said, all in a rush, “By the way, if you wanted to go to Audrey’s thing on Saturday night you could bring Charlie over to my house and my parents would babysit. She could sleep over, I mean. Just a thought, just if you fancied it.”

James glanced at her, but she was poking at something on the ground with her shoe. “Well,” he said, “that’s…nice of you.” And then he stopped.

“We have a camp bed,” she said, still intent on whatever had taken her attention on the ground. “We could drop her back in the morning. Just, if that was all that was stopping you, I mean. Feel free to say no.”

Wasn’t it the last thing he wanted, to get involved with other people? To put himself into a position where someone might start asking questions, looking for the reasons that had brought himself and Charlie here, forcing him to revisit the past, when he’d vowed to leave it behind them?

Hadn’t he been dreading something like this ever since he’d moved to Carrickbawn?

Evidently not.

“Thanks,” he said. “I’m sure Charlie would love that.”

—————

As she listened to Fiona’s phone ringing Audrey wondered belatedly if she should have waited till the morning. Just gone half past nine, not very late—but Fiona could be sick, probably was sick, since she’d hadn’t turned up to the class. She was about to hang up when the phone was answered.

“Hello?”

Low, barely audible. Audrey pressed the phone to her ear. “Fiona? It’s Audrey, from the life drawing class.”

“Oh…hi.”

“I was hoping you weren’t sick, when you missed the class. I hope you weren’t in bed just now.”

“No, I mean, yes, I have…some bug, but I wasn’t in bed.”

She certainly sounded below par. “Oh dear,” Audrey said, “I’m sorry to hear that, with the baby coming and everything—but hopefully you’ll be better by Saturday, because I’m having a little get-together at my house—you know, just because we’re getting to the end of the classes. Next week is the last one, if you can believe it.”

“Oh…right.”

“About eight o’clock, just for an hour or thereabouts. I’d love if you can make it.”

“Yes…thanks. I’ll see how I feel, thank you.”

“Great—well, I won’t keep you. Take care, get well soon.” As she hung up Audrey realized that she hadn’t passed on her address. No matter, she’d phone Fiona again on Saturday morning, see if she was feeling up to it.

She hoisted her bag onto her shoulder and left the empty classroom.