Maeve Binchy - Tara Road

'Sit down, Danny,' Barney said to him. 'This is the day we hoped never to have to see.'

'Everything?' Danny said.

'Everything, including Number 16 Tara Road,' said Barney McCarthy.

Rosemary was also having dinner in Quentin's. With her accountant, her manager and two men from a multinational printing company who wanted to buy her out. They had approached her, she had not gone to them. They were suggesting very attractive terms but were finding it difficult to persuade her how lucky she was to be approached in this way.

One man was American, one was English, but they knew that their nationality had nothing to do with their incomprehension about this beautiful blonde Irishwoman with her flawless make-up, shining hair and designer outfit.

'I don't think you'll ever be able to realise capital in this way again,' the Englishman said.

'No, that's true, nobody wants to take me over as much as you do,' she smiled.

'And there's nobody apart from us with the money to do so, as well as the will, so it's not as if you can play us off against anyone else,' said the American.

'Quite true,' she agreed.

Rosemary had seen Danny go into the booth with Barney McCarthy. Nobody had joined them. That was a bad sign. She knew that if she agreed to this deal, if she sold her business, she could save them. It was almost dizzying to think that she had that much power. She lost track of what the two men were saying.

'I beg your pardon?' She went back to the conversation.

'We were just saying that time is moving on and as you approach forty you may want to get a life for yourself, rest after all this hard work. Put your feet up, take a cruise, live a little.'

It had been the wrong thing to suggest to Rosemary Ryan. She didn't see herself as a person putting her feet up. She didn't like strangers telling her that she was approaching forty. She looked pleasantly from one to the other. 'Come back to me in about six years. You will of course have worked out that by then I'll be half of ninety. Ask me again then, won't you? Because it really has been such a pleasure talking to you.'

Her mind wasn't fully on what she was saying, she had just seen Barney McCarthy, white-faced, storming out of the restaurant. Danny was not with him. He must be still sitting in that booth where people went when they wanted really private conversations. Rosemary Ryan would not rescue him from bankruptcy but neither would she leave him on his own after a body-blow.

'Gentlemen, I'll let you finish your coffees and brandies on your own. I'm so grateful for your interest and enthusiasm, but as you said for me time is moving on and I can't afford to waste any of it. So I'll say goodnight.'

The men were only struggling to get to their feet when she was gone.

'Rosemary?'

'Brandy?'

'Why are you here?'

'Have you eaten?'

'No, no there wasn't time to eat.' She ordered a large brandy for him and a bowl of soup and some olive bread. A mineral water for herself. 'Stop playing nursemaid, I don't want to eat, I asked you what are you doing here?'

'You need to eat. You're in shock. I was at another table and saw Barney leaving… that's why I'm here.'

'My house is gone.'

'I'm so sorry.'

'You're not sorry, Rosemary, you're glad.'

'Shut the hell up… pitying yourself and attacking me. What did I ever do bad to you except betray your wife, my friend, by sleeping with you?'

'It's a bit late to be getting all remorseful about that, you knew what you were doing at the time.'

'Yes I did, and you knew what you were doing playing with Barney McCarthy.'

'Why are you here?'

'To get you home.'

'To your home or my home?'

'To your home. My car is outside, I'll drive you.'

'I don't want your pity or this soup,' he shouted as the waiter laid down a bowl of parsnip and apple soup.

'Eat it, Danny. You're not functioning properly.'

'What do you care?'

'I care because you are a friend, more than a friend.'

'I told Barney McCarthy I never wanted to lay eyes on him again. You're right, that wasn't functioning properly.'

'That's business talk, panicky business talk, that's all. It will sort itself out.'

'No, some things can never be forgotten.'

'Come on, you and I were bawling at each other the other night and here we are sitting talking as friends. It will happen with Barney too.'

'No it won't, he's very shabby, he told me he'd settled up the bill here and it turns out he hasn't.'

'Why did he want to tell you here?'

'He said he needed neutral ground. All he was doing was humiliating me here in front of the Brennans, people I know and like.'

'How much is the bill?'

'Over six hundred.'

'I'll pay that now on my card.'

'I don't want your charity. What I want is your investment, I told you.'

'I can't do it, Danny, it's not there. Everything's tied up.' Out of the corner of her eye she saw the group of four leaving, her own office manager, her accountant and two bewildered people who had come to offer her a huge sum of money, more than enough to bail Danny Lynch out and leave her plenty to live on. She caught Brenda Brennan's eye. They had known each other a long time.

'Brenda, there was a misunderstanding. An old bill. It was never settled. Here, can we do it now on my card? No receipt to be sent to Barney McCarthy, this is Danny paying if you get my drift.'

Brenda got Rosemary's drift. The table was booked in your name, Mr Lynch, otherwise Mr McCarthy would not have been able to get a reservation,' she said crisply. 'He said that he was your guest when he arrived.'

'Which, as it turned out, he was,' said Rosemary.

'Drive along Tara Road,' Danny asked her.

'Stop punishing yourself.'

'No, please, it's not taking us out of the way.'

They approached Tara Road from the top end, the corner near Gertie's launderette.

'Look, she's got a new sign up: GERTIE'S. What a stupid name,' Rosemary said.

'Well, it's better than calling it Gertie and Jack's, I suppose.' He managed a weak smile.

They passed Number 68, the old people's home. 'They're all asleep in St Rita's, and it's not even ten o'clock,' Rosemary said.

'They're all asleep there at seven. Imagine, I won't even be able to afford to go there when I'm old and mad.' They passed Nora Johnson's little house at Number 48A. 'It must be about time for Pliers to go out and foul the footpath,' Danny said. 'Pliers always likes to go where it will cause maximum discomfort to everyone.'

The little laugh they managed over that got them past Number 32, the elegant renovation with its beautiful penthouse where Danny and Rosemary had spent so many hours together. Frances and Jimmy Sullivan were putting out their dustbins at Number 26 . 'Kitty is pregnant, did you know that?' Rosemary asked.

'No! She's only a kid, Annie's age.' He was shocked.

'There you go,' Rosemary said.

They were at Number 16. 'It was a beautiful house,' Danny said. 'It always will be. But I won't be living there any more.'

'You'd moved out already,' Rosemary reminded him.

'I don't like that woman Marilyn at all, I can't bear to think she's living there in the last few weeks that I own it,' he said.

'She's gone off me,' Rosemary said. 'I don't know why, she used to be perfectly pleasant, but she's curt to the point of rudeness now.'

'Madwoman,’ Danny said. They were passing Colm's restaurant. 'Plenty of cars,' he said. 'We were mad not to give him a start. Look where I'd be tonight if I had a piece of that restaurant.'

'We weren't mad, we were careful.'

'You may have been. I was never careful, I was just wrong, that's all,' Danny Lynch said.

'I know. How did I fancy you so much?' Rosemary said wonderingly.

'Can you turn the car?'