Bronagh nodded and went to fetch her coat from the hook in the hallway. She couldn’t bring herself to wear her new one, not now, in fact she may as well take it back to the store given the tag was still attached. She popped her head in on her mam who was laughing at something on the television. She’d leave her tonight, tell her in the morning. ‘Kevin and I are going for a drink down at the Four Horses, Mam. I’ll be home later.’
‘Enjoy yourselves.’
‘G’night, Myrna.’ Kevin called.
She held her hand up in an absentminded wave not wanting to miss a second of her programme and Kevin and Bronagh ventured out into the still night.
Powdery snow was falling, muffling the world around them. Bronagh wondered if it would settle or if it would be gone by morning as though it had never been there in the first place. Kevin’s arm was draped around her shoulders adding to the heavy weight she was carrying as they walked along in silence. They only passed one other hardy soul braving the cold on the short jaunt to their local.
Gerry, the publican at the Four Horses, greeted them in his usual jocular manner and Bronagh went to sit at an empty table as far away from the door, to avoid the draft each time it opened, as she could find. She took her coat off and settled in her chair, toying with the beer mat as she waited for Kevin to return with their drinks and a packet of his customary Big D peanuts, despite not long having had his dinner. A pint wasn’t a proper pint without a packet of peanuts, he’d maintain. A haze of smoke hung over the room and the traditional music was underway, several people clapping along and stamping their feet.
She’d have to shout to be heard, she thought, watching as Kevin weaved around the tables, the packet of peanuts tucked under his chin, a pint glass in one hand and her glass and bottle of Babycham in the other. He put her drink down in front of her and then took the packet out from under his chin, plopping the nuts down on the table. Lastly, he placed his pint glass down, before pulling the chair out and sinking into it.
‘Is everything alright? You’ve been quiet since dinner,’ he asked, leaning across the table to be heard.
‘Not really. It wasn’t Rhoda on the phone. It was Hilary.’
He raised an eyebrow over the top of his pint glass. He knew there wasn’t much love lost between the sisters. ‘Did she say something to upset you?’
‘Only, Erin’s got the flu, there’s no question of Mammy going to Tramore for the weekend.’ Her insides twisted at the unfairness of it. Why now? She knew she was being irrational; it wasn’t Hilary’s fault her daughter was sick but she’d been so looking forward to their weekend in Donegal and she couldn’t possibly go now.
‘I’m sorry, Kev,’ her voice cracked, ‘I’m not going to be able to go with you to Donegal. It’s too short a notice to sort anyone else out to stay and I don’t want to make a fuss about it because Mam will feel badly enough as it is.’
‘You could leave her, it’s only for a night or two. One of her friends or a neighbour could call in and check on her,’ Kevin said, sitting back in his chair and running a finger around the rim of his pint.
‘No,’ Bronagh shook her head, wishing he wouldn’t make this harder than it already was. ‘It wouldn’t be fair on Mam. She’s used to someone else being in the house at night with her. What if she got up in the night and fell? I couldn’t live with myself.’
She had to strain to hear as Kevin said, ‘But it was all arranged.’
‘I know,’ she took his hand. ‘I was looking forward to it so much but Mam needs me. You know how it is, Kev.’
His expression was sulky and Bronagh dropped his hand feeling a frisson of annoyance penetrate her despondent mood. He was behaving childishly because he did know how it was, he’d known it right from the start. She wasn’t free to come and go and she didn’t mind because she loved her mam. Things were what they were. She and her mam, they were a team and they came as a package deal. She leaned back in her chair and focused on the band playing in the corner of the pub grateful their music meant she didn’t have to try and jolly things along by making conversation.
When Kevin kissed her good night after walking her home later that evening, Bronagh detected a cooling between them that hadn’t been there before.
Chapter 35
‘Maureen, you look wonderful, sure you remind me of—’ Donal said.
‘Loretta Lyn.’ Maureen supplied for him preening in her lacy yellow, nipped-in-waist dress.
‘Exactly what I was going to say.’
He leaned in to kiss her and she turned her head at the last minute so his lips landed on her cheek. ‘I can’t have lipstick all over my face, Donal,’ she said. ‘Not when I’m going to be performing shortly.’
‘Fair play
