Maeve Binchy - Tara Road

'Do you really believe that?'

'Yes I do.'

'Well, of course, I won't get tea, I'll sit down and talk to you now.'

That didn't please him either. 'Now I do feel a shit,’ he said. 'Come on, let's have tea.'

'You make it,' she said. 'I’ll sit here.'

He put on the kettle and took out the tea bags. Maybe she should have let him do this kind of thing more.

'You have a message on the machine,' he said.

'Take it for us, Danny, will you?' The old Ria would have leapt up with a pencil and paper.

'It's Hubie Green, Mrs. Lynch. I didn't catch Annie's telephone number and I thought it would be good to give her a call during her weekend away. I did leave you an e-mail about it but I guess you don't have time to look at your messages now with all the action going on. Say Hi to Mr Lynch for me.'

'Do you want to call him with her number?' Danny asked.

'No. If Annie had wanted him to have it then she'd have given it to him,' Ria said.

Danny looked at her admiringly. 'You're right. Shall we check your e-mail in case there are any more messages?'

'I thought you wanted to talk, now who is putting it off?'

'We have the evening, the night to ourselves.'

The old Ria would have started to fuss about what they would eat for supper and whether it should be earlier or later. But now she just shrugged. 'Right, come into Greg's study and see how good I am at it.'

Expertly she went for her Mailbox and saw three messages. One from Hubie, one from Danny's office, and one from Rosemary Ryan.

'Do you want the office?' she asked.

'No, who needs any more grief?'

'Well, will I see what Rosemary says?'

'More bad news surely,' he said.

'She knows? Rosemary knows?' Ria was startled.

'She had heard already from her own sources, then I met her yesterday just as I was leaving. She drove me to the airport.'

Ria brought Rosemary's message up on the screen. Ria read the message over several times, as if trying to read between the lines. She didn't want to raise their hopes unnecessarily.

Ria, Danny, you should access the Irish Times this morning .

There's an item about Barney that would interest you. All may not be lost after all. Enjoy New England.

'She says we should look up the Irish Times , the business gossip column,' she finally said.

'Can you do that?' he asked, impressed.

'Yes, hold on a minute.'

Very shortly they had the website and got the item. The paragraph said that rumours around the city seemed to suggest that Barney McCarthy's financial death might be like that of Mark Twain, somewhat premature. The word was that there had been a rescue package from sources outside his company. Things didn't look as dire as had been thought. Ria read it aloud, her voice getting lighter all the time.

'Danny, isn't that magic?'

'Yes.'

'Why aren't you more pleased?'

'If there was anything, Barney would have phoned me here; he has the number. This is just him doing the PR job.'

'Well, let's see what your office says on this. He might have sent you an e-mail.'

'I doubt it, but let's call it up anyway.'

'Message for Danny Lynch could he please phone Mrs. Finola Dunne at her home number urgently.'

'I told you it would be grief,' Danny said.

'Do you want to call her?'

'No, I can get the earful about how irresponsible I am when I get back,' he said.

'You'll probably get a similar earful from my mother too,' Ria said ruefully.

'No, to give poor old Holly her due, she'd put it all down to That Adulterer, as she calls him. Though these days it's hard to know who she'd describe as that.'

They had gone back into the kitchen and picked up their mugs of tea. The garden lights went on automatically, lighting up the place. Ria sat down and waited. She ached to speak, to reassure him about that paragraph in the newspaper, to encourage him to ring Barney and Mona at home. But she would do none of these things, she would wait. As, apparently, she should have waited in the past.

Eventually he spoke. 'What are you saddest about?' he asked.

She would not say that she was most sad because she thought he had been coming back to her. That would be the end of any meaningful conversation between them again. She tried to think what was the next most awful thing on the list.

'I suppose I'm sad that your dreams and hopes are ended. You wanted so much for the children and indeed for us all. It will be different now.'

'Will we tell them together tomorrow, do you think?' he asked.

'Yes, I suppose so. I was wondering if we should let them have their holiday in peace but that would be lying to them.'

'And I don't want you to have to do it on your own, make excuses for me as I know you would,' he said.

'There are no excuses to make. Everything you did, you did for us all,' she said. Danny looked quite wretched. She was determined to cheer him up. 'Right, they'll be home tomorrow, let's try and guess what horrific thing Brian will say.' He forced a smile and Ria went on determinedly. 'Whatever we guess it won't be quite as bad as what he'll come up with.'

'Poor Brian, he's such an innocent,' Danny said.

Ria looked at him, calmer than she had been for a long time. He really did love his family, and this was Danny without any disguises. Why did she not know what to do to help him or make things better? She just knew what not to do. Almost everything that her instinct told her would be right would only annoy him.

Tears fell down her face and splashed off the table. She didn't lift her hand to wipe them away, half hoping that in the fading light he would not see. But he came up to her and gently took her tea mug out of her hand and placed it on the table, then he pulled her up from the chair, held her close to him and stroked her hair.

'Poor Ria, dear, dear Ria,' he said. She could feel his heart beating as she lay against him. 'Ria, don't cry.' He kissed the tears from her cheeks. But more came in their place.

'I'm sorry,' she said into his chest. 'I don't mean to.'

'I know, I know. The shock, the terrible awful shock.' He still stroked her and held her away from him, smiling at her to cheer her up.

'I think I am a bit shocked, Danny, maybe I should lie down for a bit.'

They went to the bedroom where she had been hoping he might join her tonight. He sat down and gently he took off her lilac-and-cream-coloured blouse, which he hung carefully on the back of the chair. Then she stepped out of her silk skirt and he folded that too. She stood in a white slip like a child being put to bed with a fever, and he turned back the sheet and counterpane for her.

'I don't want to miss your visit. I want to get value out of your being here,' she said.

'Shush, shush, I'll stay here beside you until you get a little sleep,' he said.

He brought a face flannel from the bathroom wrung out with water and wiped her face. Then he stroked her hand as he sat beside her in the chair. 'Try to sleep, dear Ria, and to know how fond of you I am, how very fond of you.’

'I know that, Danny.'

'That never changed, you do know that?'

'Yes I do.' Her eyelids were heavy. He looked so tired as he sat there minding her, his face half in the light that came in from the garden. She sat up on her elbow and said, 'It will be sort of all right, won't it?'

He put his arms around her and held her again. 'Yes, Ria, it will be sort of all right.' His voice was weary.

'Danny, lie down on the bed and sleep too, just close your eyes. It's been worse for you.' She didn't mean any more than that, lie down in his clothes on top of the bedspread and sleep beside her for a couple of hours.

But he clung to her and she realised that he wasn't going to leave her go. Ria didn't allow herself to think about what might be happening. She lay back in Marilyn Vine's bed and closed her eyes while the only man she had ever loved gently removed the rest of her clothes and made love to her again.