Maeve Binchy - Evening Class

She smiled at him. 'It wouldn't have been proper,' she said.

'And then he went and died,' Lou said. Suzi had filled him in on Signora, a widow, apparently, even though Suzi's mother thought she was a plain-clothes nun.

'That's right, Lou, he went and died,' she said gently.

' Mi spiace ,' Lou said. ' Troppo triste , Signora.'

'You're right, Lou, but then life was never going to be easy for anyone.'

He was about to agree with her when a horrifying thought struck him.

It was a Thursday and there had been no man with an anorak. No van. The school would be locked up for two weeks with all of whatever it was in the store cupboard in the hall. What in the name of God was he to do now?

Signora had brought them the words of Silent Night in Italian and the evening was coming to a close. Lou was frantic. He had no car with him, even if he could get a taxi at this late stage what on earth would he do to explain why he was carrying four heavy boxes from the store cupboard. There was no way that he could come in here again until the first week of January. Robin would kill him.

But then it was Robin's fault. He had given no contact number, no fall-back position. Something must have happened to whoever was due to pick up. That was where the weak link was. It wasn't Lou's fault. No one could blame him. But he was paid, very well paid, to think quickly and stay cool. What would he do?

The clear-up was beginning. Everyone was shouting their goodbyes.

Lou offered to get rid of the rubbish. 'I can't have you do all that, Luigi, you're far too good already,' said Signora.

Guglielmo and Bartolomeo helped him. In no other place would he have been friendly with two fellows like this, a serious bank clerk and a van driver. Together they carried black sacks of rubbish out into the night and found the big school bins.

'She's terribly nice, your one, Signora, isn't she?' said Bartolomeo.

' Lizzie thinks she's having a thing with Mr. Dunne, you know, the man in charge of the whole thing,' Guglielmo whispered.

'Get away.' Lou was amazed. The lads speculated about it.

'Well, wouldn't it be great if it were true.'

'But at their age…' Guglielmo shook his head.

'Maybe when we get to their age we'll think it the most natural thing in the world.' Lou somehow wanted to stand up for Signora. He didn't know whether he should deny this ridiculous suggestion or confirm it as the most normal thing in the world.

His heart was still racing about the boxes. He knew he had to do something he hated; he had to deceive this nice kind woman with the amazing hair. 'How are you getting home, will Mr. Dunne be picking you up?' he asked casually.

'Yes, he did say he might drop by.' She looked a little pink and flustered. The wine, the success of the evening, and the directness of his question.

Signora thought that if Luigi, not the brightest of pupils, had seen something in the way she related to Aidan Dunne then it must be very well known in the class. She would hate it to be thought that she was his lady friend. After all, it wasn't as if words or anything else except companionship had been exchanged between them. But if his wife were to find out, or his two daughters. If they were to be a subject of gossip that Mrs. Sullivan would hear about, as she well might considering how her daughter was engaged to Luigi.

Having lived so discreetly for years, Signora was nervous of stepping out of her role. And also, it was so unnecessary. Aidan Dunne didn't think of her as anything except a good friend. That was all. But it might not look that way to people who were, how would she put it, more basic, people like Luigi.

He was looking at her quizzically. 'Right, will I lock up for you? You go ahead and I'll catch you up, we're all a bit late tonight.'

' Grazie, Luigi. Troppo gentile . But be sure you do lock it. You know there's a watchman comes round an hour after we've all gone. Mr. O'Brien is a stickler for this. So far we've never been caught leaving it unlocked. I don't want to fall at the last fence.'

So he couldn't leave it open and come back when he thought up a plan. He had to lock the bloody thing. He took the key. It was on a big heavy ring shaped like an owl. It was a silly childish thing but at least it was big, no one would be able to forget it, or think they had it in a handbag if it weren't there.

Like lightning he put his own key on to the silly owl ring and took off Signora's. Then he locked the school, ran after her and dropped the key into her handbag. She wouldn't need it until next term, and even if before, he could always manage to substitute something, get the real key back into her handbag somehow. The main thing was to get her home thinking she had the key.

He did not see Mr. Dunne step out of the shadows and take her arm tonight, but wouldn't it be amazing if it were true. He must tell Suzi. Which reminded him, he had better stay with Suzi tonight. He had just given away his mother and father's key.

'I'll be staying with Fiona tonight,' Crania said.

Brigid looked up from her plate of tomatoes.

Nell Dunne didn't look up from the book she was reading. 'That's nice,' she said.

'So, I'll see you tomorrow evening then,' Grania said.

'Great.' Her mother still didn't look up.

'Great altogether,' Brigid said sourly.

'You could go out too if you wanted to, Brigid. You don't have to sit sighing over tomatoes, there are plenty of places to go and you could stay in Fiona's too.'

'Yes, she has a mansion that will fit us all,' Brigid said.

'Come on, Brigid, it's Christmas Eve tomorrow. Cheer up.'

'I can cheer up without getting laid,' Brigid hissed.

Grania looked across anxiously, but her mother hadn't registered it. 'Yes, so can we all,' Grania said in a low voice. 'But we don't go round attacking everyone over the size of our thighs which, it may be said in all cases, are quite normal,'

'Who mentioned my thighs to you?' Brigid was suspicious.

'A crowd of people came by the bank today to protest about them. Oh, Brigid, do shut up, you're gorgeous, stop all this anorexic business.'

'Anorexic?' Brigid gave a snort of laugher. 'Suddenly you're all sweetness and light because lover boy has materialised again.'

'Who is lover boy? Come on, who? You know nothing.' Grania was furious with her younger sister.

'I know you've been moping and moaning. And you talk of me sighing over tomatoes, you sigh like the wind over everyone and you leap ten feet in the air when the phone rings. Whoever it is he's married. You're as guilty as hell.'

'You have been wrong about everything since you were born,' Grania told her. 'But you were never more wrong in your life about this. He is not married, and I would lay you a very good bet that he never will be.'

'That's the kind of crap people talk when they're dying for an engagement ring,' said Brigid, turning the tomatoes over with no enthusiasm.

'I'm off now,' Grania said. 'Tell Dad I'll not be coming in so that he can lock the door.'

Their father was hardly ever at the kitchen supper any more. He was either away in his room planning colours and pictures for the wall, or up in the school talking about the evening class.

Aidan Dunne had gone to the school in case Signora might be there but the place was all locked up. She never went to the pub on her own. The coffee shop would be too crowded with last-minute shoppers. He had never telephoned her at the Sullivans' house, he couldn't start now.

But he really wanted to see her before Christmas to give her a little gift. He had found a locket with a little Leonardo da Vinci face inside. It wasn't expensive but it seemed entirely suitable. He hoped she would have it for Christmas Day. It was wrapped up with Buon Natale printed on the gold paper. It wouldn't be the same afterwards.