Maeve Binchy - Tara Road

'I wish they had e-mail here,' Marilyn said.

'You could have taken your laptop, I suppose?' he said,

'I know. I didn't think of it at the time.'

'I spoke to Ria Lynch by the way. She called me here, she sounded very pleasant.'

'Nothing wrong?'

'No, just to check if Andy was who he said he was. He was passing through Westville and wanted to contact you.'

'That was good of Andy. And did Ria meet him?'

'No, no she just called him at the motel.'

'I hope she's getting on okay. I don't want to call her there too often; it sounds as if I'm checking up on her,' Marilyn said.

'I know what you mean,' Greg said. 'And what sort of feeling do you get about her, from being in her home?'

'What do you mean, feeling?'

'Does she sound a bit odd or anything?'

'Why do you ask that?' Marilyn's voice was cold now. 'I thought you said you had a conversation with her yourself?'

'Sure. I just got the impression that she might be very religious, spiritual or something.'

'I never got that,' Marilyn said puzzled. 'In Ireland of course the place is coming down with churches and bells ringing and statues but I didn't think she was into all that.'

'No, maybe I got it wrong. It was just something she said.'

'What exactly?'

'Well, no, nothing important I guess. As I said, I got it wrong. What's the place you're staying in like?'

'It's a beautiful house, everything's so old here. People are different, they keep dropping by but they don't stay long. Oh, and there's a cat, Clement, an enormous ginger cat.'

'That sounds good, and have you things to do?'

'Yes, I garden a lot, and I walk and... it's all okay, Greg.'

'I'm glad you're happy,' he said.

'Yes. Well.'

'But you're all right anyway?' He sounded anxious.

'Sure, Greg, I'm all right,' she said.

Marilyn went back into the garden and dug with renewed vigour. She would not ask Greg why Ria had sounded odd. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered except that she put in her time here and got on to whatever happened next.

A shadow fell over her and there was Colm standing beside her. She put up a hand to keep the sun out of her eyes.

'Hallo,' he said.

'Hi,' Marilyn said.

'I'm not a great believer in words as apologies, so I brought you some flowers instead.'

'It wasn't your fault.'

'It was my place where it all happened. Anyway it's over. Please Almighty God may it be over! In all my anxiety-dreams about running a restaurant, and they were pretty vivid let me tell you, I never thought up that particular scenario.'

In spite of herself Marilyn found that she was smiling. 'As you say, it's over. Thanks for the flowers. I also need your advice about where to get soil and fertiliser when I've cleared that undergrowth.'

'I’ll take you.' Colm looked amazed at her achievement. She had done the work of three men uprooting and cutting back. Soon the earth would be ready to function.

'Danny Lynch must be very grateful to you.'

'What on earth for?' She was genuinely surprised.

'For improving the value of his property, that sort of thing is a big priority in his life.'

'You don't like him very much.'

'I don't like what he did to Ria and how he did it, that's true. But I don't know now whether I liked him before or not. I think I probably did.' Colm tried to remember.

I'm not doing it for him, I'm doing it for Ria and the house,' Marilyn said.

'Well, same thing. They'll have to sell it eventually.'

'Never!' Marilyn was shocked.

'Well, how can he keep two families and keep this place going?

But enough about Danny Lynch and all the trouble he causes everywhere he goes.'

'Was he the problem with the little blonde chantoosie as my dad used to call them.'

'Chantoosie! That's a marvellous word. Yes, he was one of her problems, another was a carnation vase filled with vodka.' She looked at him open-mouthed. 'Come to Ireland, Marilyn, and see it all, nature red in tooth and claw. Will you come out to dinner tonight? I want to check out some of the opposition. I'd love your company.'

'Thank you so much,' said Marilyn Vine.

She would not mention it, however, when Gertie next came in to clean the house and iron her clothes. Nor did she refer to it in the thank-you note she wrote and left at Rosemary's elegant house. No need to overburden people with information.

'I was wondering would you like me to call you Nora, Granny?'

'Have you gone off your head, Brian?' his grandmother answered.

'Told you but you wouldn't listen,’ Annie said triumphantly.

'What's all this about?' Nora Johnson looked from one to the other suspiciously.

'It's one more sign that he should be in a strait-jacket,' said Annie.

'Well I know you're pretty old, Granny, but you're not that old, are you? And I thought it would be more friendly, make us all the same somehow.'

Annie raised her eyes to heaven. 'And will you call Dad "Danny" when we go down to the boat tonight? And will you have a few more upsetting things to say to your friend "Ria" when she rings up from America next?'

Nora Johnson looked at her grandson. His face was troubled. 'You know what, Brian? I'd actually like to be called Nora, on reflection I would. That's what they call me in St Rita's.'

'But they're a hundred and ten in St Rita's,' cried Annie in rage. 'Of course they call you Nora.'

'And of course Pliers calls me Nora,' said her grandmother.

Annie looked at her in horror. 'The dog calls you Nora, Granny?'

'In his heart he does, he doesn't think of me as a Mrs. Johnson figure. Yes, Brian, I'm Nora to you from now on.'

'Thanks, Granny, I knew it was for the best,' said Brian happily.

The entire family was going mad, Annie decided. And now they had to go to Tara Road and say hallo to Mrs. Vine before they left for the boat on the Shannon. Mam wanted it. It would be friendly she said, and courteous. Mam lived in a different world when all was said and done.

Mrs. Vine had a plate of horrible ginger-snap biscuits that would break your teeth and she had made some ham sandwiches.

'Nothing, thank you,' Annie said firmly.

'But please do, I got them ready for you.'

'I'm very sorry, Mrs. Vine, I don't eat dead animals, and I find the biscuits a bit hard, so is it all right if I just drink the tea?'

'Of course, let me see… I have some frozen cheesecake, I could defrost that for you, it won't take long.'

'I eat ham sandwiches,' Brian said. 'I’ll eat them all so that they won't go to waste. I mean apart from the ones you'll be eating yourself.' He reached out for the plate. 'We could divide them up.'

Annie didn't have to say 'Brian', her face said it fairly loudly.

'Or indeed leave them where they are and eat them as the urge comes on us,' he said apologetically.

Marilyn felt that she couldn't have made a worse start. 'I hope you'll both enjoy your visit to Westville,' she began.

'Do they have proper biscuits there?' Brian wondered.

'Yes, quite a range,' Marilyn assured him.

He nodded, pleased.

'I'm sure it will be great, Mam says she loves it. We were talking to her on Saturday night.' Annie was trying hard to be polite and to make up for rejecting both kinds of hospitality. 'I think she's getting to know the place. She was going out to dinner in a Thai restaurant.'

This was puzzling. Who could have invited Ria to that new place that had opened a couple of months back? Or would she have gone on her own? 'Does your mother like different food tastes?'

'She's always cooking certainly.'

Brian looked around the kitchen of Tara Road, empty of its normal wire trays filled with scones, breads and cakes. 'You don't do much cooking yourself, Mrs. Vine?' he said slightly censoriously.