It would be great too to be able to tell his mother that there was someone new on the scene. One of Nancy’s fervent prayers was that someone kind and loving would come into his life and make him happy. Nancy was a wonderful mother, Jonathan thought gratefully. He was looking forward to spending the weekend with her and to seeing his sisters and his niece and nephews.
It was hard to believe that Nancy was almost eighty. She was still sprightly and looked years younger than her age. She cooked and baked and did her own shopping, in spite of her children’s protestations. ‘Thank the good Lord I can look after myself for now and when I can’t and I need looking after you can look after me,’ Nancy assured them spiritedly. But age had slowed her down and she couldn’t see well enough to sew any more, so she had turned to knitting blankets and hats, scarves and gloves and socks for children in orphanages around the world. She was in a knitting club, was a member of a bridge club, she had choir practice every Friday evening, and Jonathan often teased her that she had a better social life than he had.
It gave him great satisfaction to see his mother so relaxed and contented in her retirement after all the years of hard work and sacrifice. They were so lucky that Nancy was healthy and robust for her age and rarely had to go for the medical appointments that often accompanied ageing. Jonathan only had to take time off work once, to bring her to an optician, and only then because she was getting drops in her eyes that would have blurred her vision.
Every so often she would take the bus to Dublin and he would meet it at Busáras and watch her step jauntily onto the concourse with her neat travel case, looking smart and lively, and his heart would lift at the sight. Nancy would spend a weekend with him and enjoy a trip to the theatre or a music recital or art exhibition before getting the bus home after lunch on Sunday. Rachel or Maria would meet her in Rosslara and have her tea ready. Life had turned out well for all of the Harpur family, Jonathan reflected gratefully, swinging onto the slip road to exit the M50 and head for home.
An hour later he drove off the motorway and went south. He could see the church spire of St Anthony’s in the distance and he took another left turn that would bring him to the winding roads of home. It was almost 5.30 but still bright, although dusk was beginning to encroach. Nightfall wouldn’t come for another hour or so. He’d made good time. Jonathan loved arriving home before dark. It made the weekend seem longer. The lengthening days since Christmas lifted the spirit with the promise of spring and summer to come. The rain had eased the further west he’d driven, the setting sun flashing orange-yellow between the bare-branched trees and hedgerows. Already the winter barley was covering the rich loamy soil of the fields with a faint film of green. He touched a switch and the electric window slid down smoothly and he inhaled the fresh country air. The birds were chirruping and singing before settling down for the night and in the distance he could hear the drone of a tractor as it ploughed ruler-straight furrows in the winter-rested earth.
His mobile phone rang and the Bluetooth kicked in. ‘Hello, Jonathan Harpur,’ he answered, sliding the window up again, and hoping it wasn’t a client. Some of them could be very demanding, expecting him to be at their beck and call 24/7.
‘Hi, it’s me,’ came the greeting from an unexpected caller. Jonathan’s heart soared.
‘Hi, Leon.’ He couldn’t disguise his pleasure at hearing his new friend’s voice.
‘So where are you? Driving somewhere, clearly.’
‘Correct! As we speak, I’m about half a mile from my mam’s.’
‘Oh! You’ve gone home for the weekend?’
‘Excellent deduction, Sherlock,’ teased Jonathan and they both laughed. ‘So what are you up to?’
‘I’ve just finished up putting in bespoke wardrobes in a new extension and if I say so myself they look pretty damn good.’
‘It’s great when you’re happy with the way something turns out, isn’t it?’ Jonathan enthused.
‘Yep, although you’re lucky, you work for yourself. I’m very tied to the building contractor I work for. We’re starting a new build next week in Rathfarnham, miles from where I live, so that’s going to be a bummer of a commute.’
‘You should aim to work for yourself,’ Jonathan encouraged.
‘I’d love that! Who knows, we might work together sometime. Hey, if you’d like, I can show you the wardrobes so you can see the quality of my work. We don’t hand the house back to the owners until the week after next when the painters are finished,’ Leon suggested.
‘That would be great, I’d love to see them! I’ll check my diary and see how I’m fixed.’ Jonathan remembered to sound laid-back even though he was over the moon at the idea of meeting up with Leon.
‘So will you be back Sunday then?’ Leon asked casually.
‘No, Monday morning. I always like to spend a decent chunk of time with Mam when I come home and it takes the pressure off my sisters and gives them a free weekend because even though she’s very feisty and independent, they keep a great eye on her, so it’s good for them to have time for themselves,’ Jonathan explained.
‘And here was me thinking you had a big date with someone on Sunday,’ Leon confessed.
‘I
