‘Nothing.’ But I smiled, thinking of the two of them. Red always brought out the best in people. Long ago, I would have been singing along with him, not being the pursed-lip buzzkill.
‘The problem is,’ I said, ‘but don’t tell anyone, okay, but I see her point too. But it’s bloody infuriating that she’s doing this. I need to make the decision about whether to sell the land or not without the pressure of a protest outside the school gates. It might be a very good idea to sell it. We can create another wildlife area. But she’s not giving me the space to make this decision.’
‘They won’t be there much longer,’ she assured me. ‘They’ll find something else to protest against.’
‘Shhh… there’s Bridget.’ I waved a hand to shush her.
‘Thanks, Clodagh, a-may-zing.’ Bridget was looking particularly sexy this evening, wearing a dress which was skin-tight with one long zip from the top to the bottom which she had pulled tantalisingly low around her cleavage. ‘So, how’s it going with you, everyone?’ She looked straight down the camera. ‘Hope you’re all nice and comfortable, I know I am. Let’s see what the weather was like around the country…’
We watched as she spoke about rain in Donegal, strong winds on the Aran Islands, scorching sun in Co Kerry and intermittent showers on the East Coast. Just another day of perplexing Irish weather. ‘And now back to Clodagh… over to you Clodes!’
‘Thank you… er, Bridget. And finally,’ said Clodagh, her face a mask of professionalism, ‘a local County Dublin school has found itself embroiled in an interesting domestic drama. Head teacher Tabitha Thomas of Star of the Sea primary in Dalkey, Co Dublin, had to confront a group of protestors who have vowed to protect a plot of land which the school wishes to sell to raise money. The protestors claim that the plot contains ancient oak trees, as well as being the habitat of birds and squirrels. And one of the protestors is the mother of the head teacher, Tabitha Thomas, herself. Our reporter Barry Whelan headed down to Dalkey to find out what was behind this unusual mother-daughter scrap…’
And there was Nora, speaking brilliantly about the importance of standing up for those things that would otherwise remain undefended. She was sorry that I was involved, but she was compelled to act in this case. Nellie, Arthur, Robbo and Leaf, all had their turn and were entirely sympathetic and convincing. And then there was me, at a weird angle, looking as though I was looming at the camera. My eyes kept flickering to one side (towards Mary), which made me appear slightly shifty and untrustworthy.
‘Not one of my best professional moments,’ I said to Rosie after we had both sat there in stunned silence for a few moments.
Chapter Eleven
Dun Laoghaire has two piers which reach into the sea in two curves forming an almost complete circle. And it’s along their limestone flags, either on the West or the East pier, most of south county Dublin stretch their legs. And it was where I went when I needed to clear my head. The sale of the Copse was bothering me, the money seeming less and less important as different issues clouded what I had once thought an obvious and simple issue.
The pier was full that summer evening, dog walkers, couples, small children on trikes weaving precariously close to the edge as we made our way to the lighthouse and back again. But just as I reached the bandstand, halfway along, I saw Red with his dad; the two of them, like everyone else, taking an evening stroll in the pink-tinged dusk.
For a moment, I panicked. It was one thing dealing with Red every day; we’d transcended awkwardness and were easing into a grey area of not friends but not acquaintances. But Christy was different. I’d let him down as well, rejecting him when I ghosted Red. I’d managed to avoid Christy all these years, our paths and worlds never colliding. Until now.
I thought I might get away with pretending I hadn’t noticed them, but Red saw me and said something to Christy, who looked up, bright-eyed, like an elderly meerkat. And I had no choice but to lift my hand in a wave and they both waved back. There was nothing for it but to go over. I felt a burning shame at my cowardice but also a loss for these two good men. My life, I realised, had been poorer without them.
‘Hello Tab,’ said Red. ‘Lovely evening.’
‘Yes it is,’ I said and leaned towards Christy and kissed him on the cheek.
‘Well, well, well,’ he said. ‘Where have you been hiding, Tabitha?’ He peered at me, wonderingly, as though I was some great unsolved mystery. ‘Now you’re a sight for my old eyes. We haven’t seen you in some years. And you’re looking all the better for it. Red told me he was teaching in your school.’
‘Hello Christy,’ I said, ‘nice to see you too. After all this time… and Red, lovely evening.’ I smiled at them both without actually making eye contact.
‘Red insisted we came down,’ said Christy, the same eyes as Red, I remembered, and the same smile. ‘Says I’ve been stuck inside so much, twiddling the old thumbs. I don’t come down to the pier. I like to shuffle about the town instead.’
‘How are you feeling? Red told me you’d been ill.’
‘Still kicking. It’ll take more than a stroke to knock me over. Like an ancient oak, I am. But then this fella here turns up…’ he nodded at Red, ‘…as though I’m on my way out. So I says to him there was no need, no need at all, but he insists on sticking around.’ He looked at Red affectionately. ‘Who’d have thought it?’ went on Christy. ‘You two in the same school.’
‘I know, small world, isn’t it?’
‘It’s only to the end of term, though,’ said Red, as though he didn’t want to give Christy any ideas of a great reunion. ‘It’s been… nice seeing Tab again.’
‘Well, it must be!’ said Christy. ‘Lovely girl like Tabitha. Head teacher at the school. I’ve been following your progress, young lady. And married. To Michael Fogarty. Well, I didn’t see that coming… but maybe there’s more to him than the stuffed shirt.’
For a moment, I wanted to laugh. Trust Christy to cut straight through the awkwardness and put everything out there. But Red looked annoyed.
‘Dad…’ he warned.
‘What? Statement of fact, is it not. Tabitha, statement of fact?’
I nodded. ‘No, that is true.’ But I wanted to tell them both that it had been a mistake, that to the outside world, it must seem as though Michael and I were happy. After all, we were still together. I wanted to explain why I hadn’t left, or why I’d married him in the first place. ‘And a daughter,’ I said instead. ‘Rosie.’
‘Ah! The rose of summer. Lovely,’ said Christy, smiling, oblivious to Red’s shifting from foot to foot, itching to get going again and away from me and all I represented. It was one thing being polite to me in school but he obviously didn’t want to socialise with me and chatting on the pier would definitely qualify as socialising.
‘Now, the school,’ went on Christy. ‘I saw on the news. The protest. Nice to see some of the old faces again. I recognised Arthur Fitzgerald. Haven’t seen him for years now. And your mam, of course. Might have a wander down myself and say hello.’
‘Dad,’ said Red. ‘Please don’t you join the protest? It’s enough that one parent of the teaching faculty is involved. Another would be a parent too far.’ He smiled at me, apologetically, shaking his head.
‘They look like they are in for the long haul,’ continued Christy, ignoring him. ‘You’ll find it hard to shift that type, you know, the ones with the Primus stove and the camping chairs. They’ll be there next Christmas with the oil barrel fire, the tents.’
‘It’ll be fine,’ I told Christy. ‘I’m sure of it. There’s no way this’ll still be going until Christmas. We have to make a decision one way or the other.’
‘And which way are ye leaning? Trees or no trees?’