Twisted Love and Money Read online

  “But I do,” Ann-Marie protested.

  “Not in the gate house,” Nana smiled and continued. “He was so upset, no he was terribly upset, and I could see behind the leathers that he might be a nice boy.”

  “What did you do Nana?”

  “I asked him in for a cup of tea. I asked him could it be he dated one of the maids up at the big house?”

  “And?” Ann-Marie was wide-eyed at the suggestion.

  “And he had a cup of tea and left.”

  “Nana!”

  “Don’t worry child. I thought that would be the last of him. But he comes back nearly ever night, late evening. Sits on his bike and watches the entrance. Its a wonder he has never seen you in or out. Clearly he is hoping to catch a glimpse of you.”

  “I have been grounded by Dad. I only go in and out to school. The chauffeur drives me. Mom let’s me use her Merc, the one with the frosted windows. She prefers the Rolls for town. I have not noticed Seamus at any time.”

  “He comes in the evening, so you probably miss each other. After a while he gets off his bike and walks towards the gatehouse. He never knocks.”

  “Has he come again and again?”

  “I wondered should I call the police. But he just seems sad. And the time I gave him a cup of tea he seemed so nice. Pity for him that he has a crush on such a frippery empty headed thing like yourself Ann-Marie.”

  “I’m not frippery.”

  “Yes you are. You have broken more hearts than I have had hot breakfasts and I usually have hot porridge for breakfast.”

  “I didn’t want to break his heart, at least not yet. My parents don’t want me to see him because he is just a courier. And that bitch Dorothy said she would ring him for me. I bet she didn’t and lied to me. I don’t care what he is, I liked him.”

  “He’s got nice manners,” Nana said approvingly. “And a lovely bum,” she added with a cackle.

  “Nana, behave yourself,” Ann-Marie remonstrated.

  After dinner Ann-Marie left Nana at the fireplace and said she was going to watch out for Seamus. There was a long upstairs room high in the inverted “V” of the gatehouse roof. Sitting back in the shadows Ann-Marie watched and waited. She had only her iPod for company in the silent evening.

  He came just as the evening light was fading. Ann-Marie watched him; her heart began to beat faster. He sat still on his bike for a long time. Then he got off the bike and came to the railings. Dimly she realized it was as if she was there. He was reaching through the railings as if he was pretending she was there. As if it was like on their date when he had reached through the bars and touched her breasts.

  Ann-Marie switched on the light in the bedroom. The curtains were still open and she peeped around at the corner, and then dropped the edge quickly. He was staring up at the window, hands on his hips.

  Then she decided. She stood at the window side on, as if she was looking for something in the room. Ann-Marie knew he would be able to see her clearly.

  Slowly she drew her sweater over her head. Then she went to the window as if to draw the curtain. She was clearly outlined in the window and she pretended to struggle with the curtain, pretended it was stuck.

  It was hard to see out the window into the gloom with the light on. But she could see his white face looking up. In his leather gear the rest of him blended into the gloom.

  Ann-Marie turned sideways again and slowly took off her bra. She was very proud of her young breasts, not that any man would have the privilege of seeing them, but she felt somehow Seamus was a special case. After all he had already got an eyeful that day of the Parade when he opened the door of the cab.

  She began to towel herself with a pillowcase from the bed. If this did not make him hers forever nothing would, she reasoned. She was too nervous to look out the window.

  Ann-Marie jumped about an inch when the doorbell suddenly rang thinking, ‘Oh God father’s come.’

  “Coming,” she shouted and hurriedly threw her sweater back on.

  As she flung the front door open her heart stopped. Seamus stood on the step filling the doorframe. He looked at her and seemed to have trouble finding words. He reached towards her and she stepped into his arms.

  “What is it dear?” Nana asked, coming around the door from the sitting room.

  “Oh it’s you?” she added.

  “May I come in?” Seamus asked.

  Nana looked fierce but her heart was soft. “If anyone finds out, I’ll be thrown out of this house.”

  “Please Nana,” Ann-Marie begged.

  Nana considered, better to have the two young ones in her company rather than wandering around the laneways. “You can some in but on my conditions.”

  “Please,” Seamus added.

  “You can only stay for half an hour and then you go. And no hanky panky, I stay in the same room all the time and when you go Ann-Marie says goodbye from here, not at the railings.”

  They both coloured, had Nana seen them messing on their date?

  “Its a deal, but for an hour,” Ann-Marie counter bid, and pulled Seamus in and closed the door behind him. Now she had him. He was hers and nobody was going to interfere.

  “I’ll make a cup of tea,” Nana offered and turned towards the kitchen.

  Seamus’s lips brushed the top of her hair.

  “I’m afraid I saw you at the window. I’ll fix that curtain for you.”

  “Its all right. It is just stuck,” Ann-Marie said uncomfortably.

  “That is the second time you have spied on me,” she added accusingly.

  Seamus had his hands around her waist. She seemed to stumble against him and his hand slid against her bare skin inside the bottom of her sweater. Ann-Marie turned her face up to his and he kissed her with confident pleasure. She responded warmly and, almost with a mind of its own, his hand moved up her side feeling her warm skin. His hand trembled as he touched the bottom of her breast and slowly his fingers came over her erect nipple.

  He seemed to tremble and hesitate, unsure what to do next. Ann-Marie pushed him away. “Inside and sit down and behave, or else I’ll send you away.”

  “Don’t, I love you,” he said hoarsely, anxious.

  Ann-Marie looked at him sharply. How could he mean it? She decided he did. She pushed him into the living room.

  Nana’s head appeared around the kitchen door. “Sugar or milk?”

  “Just milk please,” Seamus said.

  “Come and help me Ann-Marie.”

  Seamus stayed the allotted hour and Nana made sure they sat apart. Being forced to converse was new to Ann-Marie and she was amazed to find that she, Nana, and Seamus got along fine with plenty of laughs.

  As he made to go, together they persuaded Nana that he could call again for a further hour. The date was set for the following week at Nana’s suggestion.

  The lovers parted in the hall doorway with one long lingering kiss. Nana came and pushed him out and closed the door.

  When he was gone Ann-Marie danced around the room.

  “I’m in love, I’m in love.”

  “Hush child. Stay half an hour to be sure he is gone, then off with you.”

  A quarter of an hour later the doorbell rang again. With a frown of disapproval Nana signalled Ann-Marie to stay put and let her answer the door. The frown disappeared when she saw that it was Dorothy.

  “Nana,” she said, giving her a kiss. “I just dropped in on the way back to town to have a quick chat. I’m on my way back to town.”

  Ann-Marie went to get the obligatory cup of tea and left their Nana to have her chat with Dorothy. Then she busied herself tidying the kitchen.

  Dorothy came in to the kitchen. “Daddy said to send you home. You should go now.”

  Ann-Marie shrugged; as far as she was concerned she was not speaking to her sister.

  “Ann-Marie,” Dorothy whispered, “Are you not wearing a bra?”

  “Mind your own business,” Ann-Marie was stung to retort.

  Ann-Marie thr
ew down the kitchen towel, stormed in to her Nana, gave her a kiss and said good night. Dorothy decided she too would depart, and without speaking to each other they left together. Nana said nothing, she was used to the sisters quarrels.

  In the dark Ann-Marie ran back towards the house. Half way she stopped abruptly, remembering in the chill of the evening that her bra was on the bed in the gatehouse. Never mind she thought and ran on. She’d get it another time. Then the thought, what would Nana think? Then remembered. These days Nana slept downstairs.

  Spreading her arms she danced and skipped her way back to the house. Delighted spic and span ran to greet her and they ran around the gravel driveway until her mother called from an upstairs window for her to stop her nonsense and go to bed.

  Chapter twenty-six

  Dorothy drove back to town and soon her thoughts were on the day to follow. Her fingers gripped the steering wheel as her worries flooded in.

  She sensed him before she saw him. Dorothy had parked in her parking space in her apartment block and was putting her key in the lock of the main door. She swung around.

  “Its me Dorothy,” Jeremy said apologetic. “I got the key you gave me, but I didn’t want to use it without your permission. I could see your car was not there and no answer to the doorbell. I’ve been walking over and back from the bar up the road every half hour, hoping you would come home.”

  Dorothy looked coldly at him. She felt her hand shake so she pushed her key hard into the door.

  “We had better go up. We can’t talk here,” she said. Her voice felt remote from her. She felt pleased she was coping with the shock of seeing him, but almost as if she was detached from and observing herself.

  She let him into the apartment. “I have the key,” he said, “It did not feel right to go in I…”

  “I feel like hitting you,” Dorothy said, cutting across his start at another explanation.

  “You can if you like,” he said meekly. “I’m sorry.”

  “Where have you been?” she demanded, slamming the hall door shut.

  “I had to go to America with David. We are back for a reception for the new Grafton Street store. It opens soon.”

  “America?” Dorothy demanded, feeling rising anger at his apparent reason for his return to Dublin.

  “Yes America. We run a very large fashion business. My stay in Ireland has been a pleasant interlude, a break from the pressures. And a joy because I met you Dorothy. But the real world pressures are out there. I can’t walk away from them and my responsibilities. I can’t ignore the demands of the greater business.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “Dorothy.”

  “You used me for your visit to your mother and then you ran back to your lover, delighted with yourself that you had pulled it off.”

  “Now that is bullshit.”

  “Is it?” Dorothy slumped onto the couch and began to sob with her head in her hands. Jeremy sat beside her and waited.

  “Where is David?” she asked, wiping a tear from her eyes and snuffling.

  “Still in America, we are trying to set up a West coast deal to distribute our designs. We took over a group of dress shops, big stores. It is very complicated.”

  Dorothy dried her tears, “What is it like out there?” she asked.

  “Fantastic. The atmosphere is a bit fraught, threatening but stimulating.”

  “Atmosphere Gay?” Dorothy asked with apparent friendliness.

  “Gay, what do you mean? Hell yes, it is a great place for boys. If you discount the AIDS. But David and me are not like that. We stay close.”

  “So I have noticed.”

  Jeremy wrung his hands. “Sorry Dorothy I did not mean it that way. I meant…”

  “How do you know he is not out there getting AIDS?”

  “Because we trust each other,” Jeremy said, and then realized he had said the wrong thing again.

  A silence descended between them. It seemed to grow.

  “You can punish me, if you think I am a bold boy,” Jeremy offered.

  “You would like that wouldn’t you. Ease your conscience, would it?”

  “Forgiveness Dorothy.”

  “You never rang, wrote or even sent a postcard.”

  “You have to understand Dorothy. I was with David. He is very possessive. I was hardly out of his sight.”

  “Did you make love?” Dorothy asked forcing herself to hold his eye. He looked down and then up again.

  “David and me, we are married, in practical terms Dorothy. David and I live together as a couple. I try to discourage him. But I can’t say no. It always hurts him so. Physically, that is in our physical relationship, he always takes the... eh...initiative.”

  “And you are passive?” Dorothy asked.

  “Mostly. When we are in love I respond. At least I used to. Afterwards I always feel so guilty. Sometimes I wake up suddenly. It is as if I can hear Hell’s fires burning, waiting for me.”

  “Hellfire is for practicing Catholics Jeremy. It’s your early training. But you are an intelligent man. No longer a child. You should have worked out your true leanings by now.”

  “I think it is my catholic upbringing. It stays burnt on your soul, the values I mean. Even if you reject the logic, the practice, the values are hard to shift.”

  “Only if you believe in them Jeremy, do you believe deep down?”

  “The fact that I ran away from the priesthood does not mean I deserted all my values.”

  “And Homosexuality?”

  “If that is your natural inclination, then it is a trial sent to test your soul. It is not what you do, but whether you end up a lesser person. You have to treat yourself as valuable.”

  “Make me good God, but not this year, is that it?”

  “In a way. I pushed it all down. Down deep inside me. When I came back to Dublin it all bubbled back up again.”

  “And when you went to America with David.”

  “Funny, outside Ireland it is easier. I feel less threatened.”

  “We don’t stone Gays over here.”

  “I know, but Ireland is a part of my values. I can’t explain, not logically.”

  “You don’t have to.”

  “Dorothy I want to explain to you. I need you to understand.”

  “To understand that you used me.”

  “That’s not true Dorothy. When we met we clicked. Then when you took me home and smacked me with that whip. I was so scared and so excited all at once. I’ve never felt such an excitement.”

  “Did you consider my feelings when you just disappeared.”

  “Dorothy. How can I explain? Listen for a minute and don’t blow up. Look, you are the other woman. If I were married to a woman, you would be the other woman. I’d be saying things like ‘my wife does not understand me,’ or ‘I’m trapped in a relationship,’ and so on. You’d understand. You would cut me some slack. You would help me to work it out. Christ I can’t just walk away from David. We are bound together in so many ways.”

  “Will you leave him for me?” Dorothy asked directly.

  Jeremy took her hand. He was silent for what seemed to her to be a long time.

  “Dorothy, I want to marry you.”

  Dorothy looked at him with shock and surprise. Then she kissed his nose. “Really,” she asked eyes wide and voice softened almost husky.

  “I thought it out in America. I was overjoyed. I realized I really do want to marry you. I want you to own me. I want to change my relationship with David to business and friendship, if I can. If not, well, I decided I want you Dorothy. You will be my choice if you say yes.”

  “I say yes Jeremy.”

  Jeremy leaned over and kissed her.

  “But you have been a naughty boy.”

  Jeremy knelt in front of her and kissed her again. Then he took her hands and looked deep into her eyes. Then he looked down.

  “Naughty Jeremy,” he said.

  She could feel his hands tremble with excitement. She opened her kn
ees and pulled him in close. Now she was in charge.

  Chapter twenty-seven

  There was a tense silence in the office. Michael was red in the face and very agitated. He walked up and down, twisting his fingers around each other as he strode with nervous jerking movement, holding his hands behind his back.

  “Sell out, are you mad Peter! Do you know how much effort it has taken to build up this business?”

  Peter shrugged. His father had learned the business alongside his own father. For Peter it had been different. Prosperity had arrived in Peter’s time. Peter had ended up with a good education in Castleknock College. There he had met others from privileged backgrounds. What Peter wanted was not the business for what it was. What he wanted was the business for what it brought. The power, the spending money, the status amongst his friends. Peter was the third generation in the business and his priorities were different.

  Michael tried not to focus his anger on his own son. He reminded himself that Peter was the messenger. No need to shoot the messenger. The cock up had occurred in procurement and supply. That was O’Rourke’s territory. And not to forget Finance where they were overstretched. Still Michael remembered the folklore; ‘rags to rags in three generations.’ Was Peter, with his soft upbringing, man enough to carry the business on?

  “Peter, I saw this business going to you and you carrying it on. The O’Byrne name on a Public Company.”

  “Realism Dad. We have hit a major difficulty. Our major customer thinks we have shit management. They are stopping their dealings with us. They recognize our long association and are prepared to do a rescue package. They want to put in new management. They will pay for the business and take it over. However they will not pay us for the business they give to us. Makes sense. They can stop us from going under.”