Oscar Lynch went through the gentle exercises the hospital’s physiotherapist had shown him. Little by little his strength and mobility was returning. The pain of arthritis in his hip no longer gripped him and he could sleep comfortably in his own bed. Coming home was the best thing ever and having Irina to help had been a godsend. It felt good to have a woman in the house again and he knew Elizabeth would approve of the sparkling china and glass on the sideboards and in the cabinets and the freshly laundered cushion covers, bedspreads and household linens that Irina provided.
She was a wonderful girl and he enjoyed helping her with her English, encouraging her to attend classes and improve her ability to speak her new language. She in turn was teaching him a few words in her complicated native tongue so that when he was back on his feet and out and about in Dublin’s restaurants and shops and bars he could exchange a few words with her countrymen in their own tongue.
The house was filled with music as Irina listened to the radio and sang as she worked in the kitchen baking fresh bread and cakes and concocting nourishing soups and casseroles to feed him up as if he were a child. Already he had put on three kilos! Every day she made him dress up and go out for a little walk, helping him negotiate the steps and stairs and getting him to the street corner and then the park and then right around the park. Having Irina was better than having nurses and carers as with her bright smile and blue eyes she encouraged him constantly to get better.
The neighbours had been more than attentive, Maggie dropping in regularly and Gerry Byrne bringing him down to the pub for a drink. The young Scot Angus called in and had played chess with him, kindly letting him win and promising a rematch next week. He had his newspapers, the TV, the radio but now with Irina living in the cosy flat in the basement he had something more. He no longer felt lonely.
He enjoyed her company and often they would watch soap operas together or those complicated medical murders that were solved by genius forensic examiners. Whenever her friends called, Irina always introduced him and chatting to them he found it interesting to see how this new community was making its way in Ireland. One young caller was more persistent than the rest and it was clear that the Polish plumber Adam who had come to fix their immersion heater was falling for Irina – and who could blame him? Night after night the young man sat in his kitchen talking to the girl or they played music and laughed down in the basement flat.
It was good to hear the music and young people laughing and in love in the old house. Perhaps someday Irina and this young man would marry; property prices in Dublin were outrageous, far too expensive for young couples to find a home, and yet here below him there was a perfect home for a couple, for children too. He found himself thinking of children playing on the landing, on the stairs, in the garden. Elizabeth would have liked that. Perhaps a simple visit to the solicitor with regard to his will and everything would be in order. He smiled thinking about the future, this house and the correct thing to do.