Chapter 22

IT WAS AT PIERRE’S SIXTIETH BIRTHDAY PARTY in Wolfe Tone Grove that Betty announced she was expecting her second child. Agnes was thrilled at the thought of a fifth grandchild. The gathering in the kitchen included Agnes, her sons Mark, Rory and Simon, her daughters-in-law Fiona and Betty, and her friend Carmel Dowdall, and the kitchen was now abuzz with ‘baby talk’. The boys were feeling uncomfortable enough on the edges of this conversation, but when Betty exclaimed that she hoped her next birth wouldn’t take as long as her last, and then Agnes burst in with ‘Don’t talk to me about long deliveries. I was so long in labour on me fourth that they had to shave me twice!’ the boys made a hurried exit, while the girls howled with laughter.

The boys joined the rest of the party in the sitting room. In there, Pierre and Mr Brady, Buster’s father and Agnes’s next-door neighbour – a baker – were discussing the different techniques of baking. Mr Brady was passing on tips to Pierre that could be useful in Pierre’s pizza business. Pierre, on the other hand, while recognising the convenience of the sliced pan, was explaining to Mr Brady that only in France could ‘real’ bread be bought.

Pierre noticed that Rory seemed to be wandering aimlessly through the party, so he excused himself and went to join Agnes’s third-eldest son.

‘Dino is not coming then, Rory?’ Pierre got straight to the point.

‘No, Pierre.’ Rory looked down into his glass and added, ‘It’s over, Pierre, he’s gone!’

‘Don’t be silly, Rory, you two have fought before. You will see, in a few days everything will be all right.’

Rory shook his head. ‘No, Pierre, this time it’s over for real. I blame that fuckin’ shop, we should never have opened it!’

‘The shop’ that Rory was referring to was a hairdressing salon in Prussia Street named The Lazy Curl. Rory and Dino had indeed at last made the move to go into business for themselves. The premises had been a salon before, but not a very successful one, so the two men took a lease on the building in the hopes that they could turn it around. They didn’t. Where it’s not always true that lovers do not make good business partners, unfortunately in the case of Rory and Dino it was. The real problem was that, although both of them were excellent stylists, when it came to business neither of them knew their arse from their elbow. Also, jealousy began to creep in. The salon was unisex, and any man that came in to get his hair done by Rory would find himself attended to by Dino also, who would be sweeping up imaginary hairs from under the man’s feet, at the same time poking in little comments at Rory like, ‘God, that man’s hair must be very difficult, it’s taking you so long.’

Or if Rory was engaging a man in friendly conversation Dino would pop by and say, ‘Ah, Rory, it’s great to hear you laughing; you go on ahead, don’t mind me. I’m just going to unblock the toilet.’ After which the toilet door would slam.

While Rory tried to convince Dino that what he was doing was called PR, and was essential for business, Dino insisted that what Rory was doing was called flirting. Eventually the bills outweighed the profits. The shop closed after only ten months, although both men went straight into good positions in other salons.

This was the first time in ten years that the two men had been parted during working hours, and the parting began to put a strain on their relationship. They had one or two rows, after which one or the other would leave, but then return the next day, and the making up would nearly make the row worthwhile. But this last row was serious. Rory knew it was the end when Dino began dividing up the CDs, most especially when Dino insisted on keeping all the Leonard Cohen ones for himself. In a deep depression, Dino moved out into an apartment in Rathgar, and Rory returned to his mother’s.

When Rory had recounted the latter part of this story to Pierre, Pierre’s face was very serious. ‘He took the Leonard Cohens? Mmm, that is serious, Rory!’

They both smartened up when they were joined by Agnes. ‘How yis? Great night, isn’t it?’ she said brightly.

‘Yes,’ the two men answered, virtually in harmony.