the place. Colleen indeed! Really! Now, how are you feeling?’
He looked at her as though checking how far he could push her credulity.
‘Come on, tell me honestly.’
‘Tired, aching and depressed,’ he said, not sounding at all Irish. Then he grinned. ‘But it’ll go. I’ve never been depressed for long, after all, and haven’t they been telling me I’ve not much cause to fear another of these things?’
‘That’s great news. Have they done more tests then?’
‘That’s right. Today it was an angiogram. The results will be through in the morning.’
‘And are they giving you rules about diet and—’
‘Don’t fuss now, Trish. I’ve had enough of that from your mother.’ The mischief was back in his eyes. ‘And from Bella.’
‘Right.’ Trish had never found the idea of her father’s lovers easy to absorb. He’d been apart from Meg for twenty-five years, and there was no reason why he shouldn’t have taken up with someone else, but Trish didn’t want to hear about it. She didn’t mind her mother’s relationship with Bernard, but for some reason Bella was difficult to take.
‘She’s a great girl is Bella.’
‘Woman.’
‘Woman then.’ Trish saw that he was laughing at her. ‘She’ll be here in about ten minutes. Will you stay now and meet her?’
‘I’m not sure.’ Trish looked at her watch. These days she hardly ever felt flustered, and she didn’t like the sensation. ‘I have to get back. George … I’ll have to cook for George.’
‘You ought to meet her, Trish. You’ll like her.’
‘I’m sure.’ She smiled and knew it must look false. ‘But maybe not this time. There’ll be plenty of chances.’
He shrugged. ‘She’s busy too, you know. She has a – what do you call it, Trish? A pretty crunchy job of her own. Today would be a good time.’
He was pushing her. And she didn’t like that either. She never let anyone tell her what to do. She put the grapes in their bag on his table, and added the two books to the pile at
the back. Then she bent down to kiss his forehead. ‘I’m sorry. I’ll get used to the idea soon. But this time I really do have to run. I’ll be back tomorrow, the same sort of time.’
‘Sure.’ Paddy had turned away to pull some of the fat muscat grapes off their stalks, instead of breaking off a neat bunch. Trish felt her nerves shrieking. She could never bear seeing a bunch massacred like that, with blobs of grape flesh hanging wetly against the whole fruit, ready to rot them.
Outside the ward, waiting for the extraordinarily slow lift with a group of other visitors impatient to get back out into real life, she wondered whether he had done it on purpose to punish her. Or perhaps it had been provocation. Perhaps both the grapes and the demand that she stay to meet Bella had been designed to make himself feel tough again after the massive humiliating terror of the heart-attack.
Impatient with her need to analyse everything, Trish banged the lift button again with her clenched fist. Life would be so much easier if you didn’t spend your time wondering about people’s subconscious drives and took them as you found them, trusting them to do the same for you.
At last the lift arrived. People were pressing forward behind her even before the doors were open and the new influx of visitors could get out. There was one tall, beautifully dressed woman in her fifties. She had very smooth pale-grey hair and a well-kept face. Catching Trish’s eye, she grinned suddenly, revealing a character much quirkier and more interesting than her clothes suggested. Then she was gone, leaving Trish to wonder if she might have been Bella.
Trish rather hoped she had been, but it didn’t seem likely that Paddy would attract a woman like that.
George was waiting in the flat when Trish got back, busily cooking for her, or at least arranging the sort of cold food that made eating seem possible on such a stuffy night. He
came out of the kitchen at
He looked at her as though checking how far he could push her credulity.
‘Come on, tell me honestly.’
‘Tired, aching and depressed,’ he said, not sounding at all Irish. Then he grinned. ‘But it’ll go. I’ve never been depressed for long, after all, and haven’t they been telling me I’ve not much cause to fear another of these things?’
‘That’s great news. Have they done more tests then?’
‘That’s right. Today it was an angiogram. The results will be through in the morning.’
‘And are they giving you rules about diet and—’
‘Don’t fuss now, Trish. I’ve had enough of that from your mother.’ The mischief was back in his eyes. ‘And from Bella.’
‘Right.’ Trish had never found the idea of her father’s lovers easy to absorb. He’d been apart from Meg for twenty-five years, and there was no reason why he shouldn’t have taken up with someone else, but Trish didn’t want to hear about it. She didn’t mind her mother’s relationship with Bernard, but for some reason Bella was difficult to take.
‘She’s a great girl is Bella.’
‘Woman.’
‘Woman then.’ Trish saw that he was laughing at her. ‘She’ll be here in about ten minutes. Will you stay now and meet her?’
‘I’m not sure.’ Trish looked at her watch. These days she hardly ever felt flustered, and she didn’t like the sensation. ‘I have to get back. George … I’ll have to cook for George.’
‘You ought to meet her, Trish. You’ll like her.’
‘I’m sure.’ She smiled and knew it must look false. ‘But maybe not this time. There’ll be plenty of chances.’
He shrugged. ‘She’s busy too, you know. She has a – what do you call it, Trish? A pretty crunchy job of her own. Today would be a good time.’
He was pushing her. And she didn’t like that either. She never let anyone tell her what to do. She put the grapes in their bag on his table, and added the two books to the pile at
the back. Then she bent down to kiss his forehead. ‘I’m sorry. I’ll get used to the idea soon. But this time I really do have to run. I’ll be back tomorrow, the same sort of time.’
‘Sure.’ Paddy had turned away to pull some of the fat muscat grapes off their stalks, instead of breaking off a neat bunch. Trish felt her nerves shrieking. She could never bear seeing a bunch massacred like that, with blobs of grape flesh hanging wetly against the whole fruit, ready to rot them.
Outside the ward, waiting for the extraordinarily slow lift with a group of other visitors impatient to get back out into real life, she wondered whether he had done it on purpose to punish her. Or perhaps it had been provocation. Perhaps both the grapes and the demand that she stay to meet Bella had been designed to make himself feel tough again after the massive humiliating terror of the heart-attack.
Impatient with her need to analyse everything, Trish banged the lift button again with her clenched fist. Life would be so much easier if you didn’t spend your time wondering about people’s subconscious drives and took them as you found them, trusting them to do the same for you.
At last the lift arrived. People were pressing forward behind her even before the doors were open and the new influx of visitors could get out. There was one tall, beautifully dressed woman in her fifties. She had very smooth pale-grey hair and a well-kept face. Catching Trish’s eye, she grinned suddenly, revealing a character much quirkier and more interesting than her clothes suggested. Then she was gone, leaving Trish to wonder if she might have been Bella.
Trish rather hoped she had been, but it didn’t seem likely that Paddy would attract a woman like that.
George was waiting in the flat when Trish got back, busily cooking for her, or at least arranging the sort of cold food that made eating seem possible on such a stuffy night. He
came out of the kitchen at
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