were out so far along the walk that you believed it was no longer a pier but that you were surrounded by the sea- with night sneaking in over sea-water that lapped and kissed the stones in the gloom.
Dug in her heels: the same unwieldy gift as her father. Kathleen’s part of Iesult was the more civilizing, Minogue was sure.
“It’s not quaint, Da. It’s the only place we could get. Everywhere else is booked out, even at this time of year.”
“Fair enough. I understand it’s terrible popular with all classes of persons.”
He heard her drumming something on the hall table. She had something else in mind. He would have to draw her out.
“Is your mother home?”
“No, she’s not. She’s over at Costigan’s. They have a video-machine there and they rented Gone With The Wind.”
Minogue laughed this time. “Declare to God, your mother must have seen that a dozen times. She’s gone dotty.”
“I’ll tell her you said that, so.”
Minogue pounced. “When you’re telling her about going away for the weekend, like?”
“I haven’t told her yet. You know how she is.”
Minogue firmed up. “You mean you haven’t asked her yet. Yes, I do know how she is: that’s why I married her. I may be a bit gone in the head but your mother is very much in touch,” he said.
“Too much sometimes,” said Iesult.
“You want me to intercede for you because your mother suspects a dirty weekend but I’m more ‘progressive’. Am I getting warm?”
“Well, you’re always standing up for Daithi when he does something iijity,” Iesult said petulantly.
“Oh, that man should be getting himself tangled up as a go-between, and him slaving away at the office…”
“Stop it, Da. Be serious for a minute. You know Ma. I wouldn’t want her worrying or looking at Pat like he was a roaring divil. Pat’s very responsible. He’s actually quite conservative behind all the Marxist stuff, but don’t tell him I said that, do you hear?”
“I’m getting leery about this ‘don’t tell so-and-so this’. Your mother and yourself should talk man-to-man about this.”
“You mean I should sit Ma down and say: ‘Ma, Pat and I will not have sex in Ballyvaughan, I promise’?”
“Keep your voice down, would you,” Minogue hissed. “Bad enough to be giving me palpitations, but to be scandalizing my colleagues here… whatever effect you want to have, you just had it. But this is between you and your mother. I’ll certainly reassure her if she has doubts later on, but not before you let her know you’re going.”
“Very tricky exit there, Da.”
“Lookit, the both of us are well past the age where you should be Daddy’s little girl. Get to know your mother, would you?”
“But she’s so full of what the Church says about this and that, Da,” said Iesult, her voice rising with exasperation.
“And I’m easier to get around because I’m supposed to be a pagan or something? Listen for a minute. Did you ever hear me advising you what to do this last while?”
“No. That’s what I like-”
“You’re missing the point. Did it ever strike you that I may not have any sensible advice to give you? Ye have your own lives and no amount of talk is going to… ah, I don’t know. Being able to see clearly is what I mean. No gurus. Your mother is not afraid of standing up and saying what she believes is best for you, so you should be glad of knowing her. But face up to her and you’ll see something that might be entirely new to you, I’m telling you. She’d leave me in the ha’penny place.”
“She has changed a bit, I suppose,” Iesult murmured.
“Let me tell you, if Kathleen Minogue, or Kathleen O’Hare to give her her other title, if she ever turns turk on the Church and holy Ireland one morning, it would not surprise me. The Pope and the rest of them had better look out if and when she wants answers. Don’t you be worrying about dirty weekends, now.”
Minogue was suddenly aware of eyes upon him. Hoey was observing him through threads of cigarette smoke, his curiosity evident, and a small curl of amusement worked at the sides of his mouth. Minogue’s glance flickered recognition that that last remark had been overheard and he felt the blush begin immediately at his collar. It would make things worse if he were to plead that he had only been discussing things with his daughter. Only? Daughter?
“Hmmm,” said Iesult.
“Do you know what I’m saying?” Minogue was conscious of trying to keep his voice low now.
“I’ll think about it. Maybe I’ll practise that ‘Frankly, Mother, I don’t give a damn’ in case she freaks out. Tell me, anyway, what will you be wearing for the wedding? They all go to registry offices there, I suppose.”
“What wedding?”
“When Darling Daithi decides to tie the knot with Curvaceous Cathy, the All-American Girl, in the ol’ US of A.”
“You have a very sharp tongue, Iesult. I wouldn’t care to fall foul of it myself,” Minogue mustered. “Remember there’s many a man dug his own grave with his tongue, and didn’t know he was doing it until it was too late.”
After the call Minogue wondered if he had been less than truthful when he had told himself that he would not be jealous of Pat the Brain. It wouldn’t take a Freudian to drive this one home, especially when Patient Minogue freely admitted that he loved Iesult immoderately. Hidden in her cutting humour, he knew, was her own concern for Daithi.
Minogue phoned the Fines. The man’s voice answering was not Billy Fine’s.
“This is Inspector Minogue. Unless it’s a major upset to come to the phone, yes…”
Fine sounded like a man talking late at night, unhurried, tired but alert.
“Good man, Inspector. No, it’s all right. I had been thinking of phoning you. I wasn’t sure how your protocol works. We’ve had phone calls daily from the Garda Commissioner to tell us where things stand.”
“He gets his briefing from us.”
“All right. So what there is to know he has told us already,” said Fine.
“Now you have it. I was phoning, I think, to say hello. Just so as you know that any minute of the day there are policemen working on this. Everything’s being done that can be.”
“Well that’s reassuring, I suppose,” said Fine slowly. Minogue was certain there was no sarcasm under the delivery.
“And if I might inquire further, Justice…”
“You had better start calling me something other than that. Billy will do well enough.”
“If I might take a little of your time then, soon? I mean if I might put some questions to you about Paul. Very often the shock hides important facets of a person’s life, clues as to what might have happened. Returning to details after the initial shock can often yield up new, er…”
“Facts. Yes. I’ve been thinking, all right. Waiting for something to come to me. I’m fairly familiar with how the Gardai do this. I’m ready, if that’s what you want to know, but Rosalie may be out of the running for a little while yet.”
“I wouldn’t have expected-” Minogue began.
“Oh, don’t be too delicate now. Rose is a tough bird. But it’ll take a while longer. ‘If only’ is what comes to mind a lot.”
“There’s no getting used to it, I believe,” said Minogue gently.
“Isn’t that a fact. You will probably have realized by now that Paul was not like the other children. We found that we had to do things differently with him, and now of course…”
Neither man spoke for several moments. Minogue wondered if Fine was glad of somebody to chat to, someone outside the people in the house. The banter would help to sustain the mourning. There’d be plenty of time for weeping in between the stories, and for a lifetime to come after that.
