Look into the Eye Page 3

  “Ho ho, now, Richard, easy there.” He looked around the foyer. “I was just chatting to Jack MacDonagh a second ago, but he seems to have disappeared.” He peered over his dark black-rimmed glasses at me then. “Anyway, how is life treating you?”

  “Great, thanks, Father. You heard I made business-and-economics editor last year?”

  “I did indeed, Richard, and I wasn’t surprised – you always were one of my star economics students. I read all your newspaper reports, you know. In fact, I’ve been meaning to ask you about one of them – that piece you wrote last year about the whale that turned up in the River Thames. I liked it very much indeed. Not your usual economic or business report though – how did you end up writing about whales of all things?”

  “Ah, that piece was just a fluke really, Father. I was over in Westminster meeting with a guy who was giving me the lowdown on a big property deal there –”

  “Anyone I might know?”

  “No, no, this fellow wasn’t an Ashvale lad. I don’t think you’d know him. Anyway, while I was in Westminster I got a call from our news desk to say that a northern bottlenose whale had been spotted in the River Thames. And, let’s face it, it’s not every day you get a call like that, is it?”

  Jangler shook his head. “No, indeed.”

  “So I got myself down there and was one of the first international journalists to arrive on the scene – even ended up getting taken on board the main rescue boat.”

  “That must have been wonderful,” said Jangler. “They’re such awe-inspiring creatures.”

  “They are, Father. In fact, the piece I wrote that day got picked up around the world, which made my editor happy – and when Edith’s happy, I’m happy.”

  “I’m not surprised she was happy. It was a very touching piece – especially when you described the impact on the rescue team when the whale eventually died. Very moving, and very well written. Your mother must have enjoyed it?”

  “No idea, Father. I try to avoid her as much as possible these days!” I laughed, but Jangler didn’t.

  “That’s a pity, Richard. I’m sure she’d like to see more of you.”

  “Wouldn’t bank on it, Father – she’s not my greatest fan. I see her once a year at Christmas and that seems to be more than enough for both of us.” I looked behind Jangler to see if Mr Mac had reappeared or if any of the other lads were nearby to provide a distraction.

  No joy.

  “I see,” said Jangler. “She doesn’t get home from London so much any more, does she? She’s quite settled there in Richmond now.”

  Originally from Wicklow, my parents moved to London in the seventies when my father bought a small site for his construction business there. At the time I was seven and Ed was six. He did well and in time his business grew, so we moved from our rented flat into a house in Richmond in the leafy suburbs of London. It was a big step up for us, and I’ll never forget the excitement of the move. My mother was ecstatic about the new house – she still lives there to this day. But as my father’s business went from strength to strength, my parents’ relationship started to crumble. He spent more and more time at work, coming home late or drunk, often both. And it was then that the arguments would start – they’d scream at each other for hours on end, followed by even longer periods of silence.

  The one thing that my parents did seem to come together and agree on at the time was our education. They both wanted Ed and me to go back to Ireland to my father’s old secondary school. I loved Ashvale from day one. It quickly became a home away from home – a welcome retreat from the tense atmosphere that clouded over my parents’ house. I felt a bit bad at first leaving Ed behind on his own with my parents, but he joined me at Ashvale a year later and, aside from his brief period of travelling, we’ve both lived in Ireland ever since.

  I really didn’t want to get into a discussion about my family with Jangler, but he wouldn’t let up.

  “And we haven’t seen your father at the annual reunion in many years,” he was saying. “Is everything all right with him?”

  I started to feel uneasy with the line the conversation was starting to take; whatever about my mother, there was no way I was going to get into a discussion about my bloody father. I’d barely seen or spoken to him since he left my mother over twenty-two years earlier.

  “I don’t know. I haven’t seen him in years myself – we’re not in touch at all.” Seeing Jangler’s raised eyebrow, I threw in: “Ed sees him the odd time though. I believe he’s still living over in Windsor with Louisa and the twins. But you know all this, Father – nothing much changes with my parents.”

  “No, indeed,” said Jangler, pushing his glasses up further on his nose. “Anyway, I believe congratulations are in order? Ben MacDonagh’s sister no less?”

  I’d somehow managed to avoid meeting Jangler since Lucy and I bumped into each other again for the first time in years at my twentieth Ashvale reunion the previous year. She wasn’t long back in Ireland from New York, and she’d come along with her father on the night to thank Ben’s old school friends for our past support of Ben’s charity foundation. Living in New York over the years had clearly suited Lucy MacDonagh – she’d lost the braces and the puppy fat and had turned into an absolute stunner. I asked her out that night and we’d been seeing each other ever since, give or take a few breaks. Of course, my brother and a few of the lads told me I was mad to start going out with Lucy, with her connection to Ben and all of the history there. But I assured them there was nothing to worry about, and they came around in the end.

  “Yes, Father. You’ve heard right. I expect we’ll be calling on your services soon.”

  “I see. Well, congratulations to both of you.”

  Here it comes – no doubt I’ll get the whole marriage-preparation speech now.

  But instead Jangler looked quite solemn, then caught me unawares by what he said next. “Poor Ben, may God rest his soul. He would have enjoyed this day out – especially with all of the Ashvale crowd back together for it.”

  “Eh, yes, I’m sure he would have, Father,” I said.

  “It was such a terrible, terrible shame. I wish I could have done something for him that day.” Jangler shook his head slowly. “Too many of our young people taking their own lives – it’s such a sad waste.” He looked directly at me then. “You must find it a comfort being so close with Lucy and the MacDonaghs after all this time, Richard. He was your best friend after all, and you took his death very hard at the time. Does being around his family again now somehow help you to deal with his suicide all these years on?”

  I stared at Jangler. Ben had died over twenty years ago – why couldn’t he just leave it be? Why did he have to bring it all up again, and today of all days? Why was it that everyone wanted to talk about something that happened so long ago? When we’d started going out last year, Lucy kept wanting to talk about Ben as well – asking me questions like how did I feel about his death? Or how did I deal with life after the funeral? She’d regularly ask me if I had any theories about why Ben had done it, or about what we might have done differently to stop him. But I didn’t want to go there and, after she’d pushed me one too many times, I made it clear that I wouldn’t ever be discussing the topic with her. I knew she was hurt, and we even broke up over it all for a while, but she let it go eventually and we got back together.

  And now I had to deal with Jangler’s questions, on a day when all I wanted to do was kick back and enjoy a few pints with the lads.

  I looked right at Jangler. “That was over twenty years ago, Father – and you were really great about it at the time. I don’t know how I’d have got through it without you, but I’m absolutely fine now.”

  “Yes, it was a long time ago. Only . . . I’m just wondering . . . why Ben’s sister?”

  “Sorry?”

  “Why, of all the women in the world, Richard, would you choose to date Lucy MacDonagh? Let alone marry into the family?”

  “Eh, have you seen her lately, F
ather? She’s an absolute knockout!” I laughed.

  Jangler frowned.

  “Richie Blake! There you are, ya bollix!” A big hand rubbed my head roughly from behind.

  I swung around. It was my good mate Jonesy. He’d been sitting at another table throughout lunch and I hadn’t had a proper chance to catch up with him yet. I was never so glad to see the big lug.

  “Where the hell did you disappear to after the rugby last weekend?” Jonesy asked. “And what’s all this shite I’m hearing about you getting engaged? Is it true?”

  “A bit of respect, Jonesy.” I nodded at Jangler.

  “Sorry, excuse me, Father.” Jonesy looked suitably contrite.

  “Don’t mind me, Peter. I’ve long since given up trying to put manners on you lot.” Jangler held his hand out to shake Jonesy’s.

  “Good to see you again, Father.” Jonesy pumped Jangler’s hand, shaking the old fella’s entire body in the process.

  “And you, Peter.” Jangler straightened his glasses with his index finger and thumb. “I’ll leave you two to catch up.” He put a hand on my arm as he went to leave. “Try to see a bit more of the parents, Richard, if you can. They do their best, you know.”

  “Eh, right, Father.” I looked after him for a second.

  “Seriously, man, where did you get to after the match?” Jonesy asked once Jangler was out of earshot. “I thought we were going to grab a kebab, but you disappeared from the pub without a trace.”

  “Sorry, man, I was absolutely wasted,” I said, keen to move on from the topic of Saturday night. “Any sign of Dec? I’ve been trying to catch him to talk to him about that oversized property portfolio of his. He needs to start selling some of it off – the signals are all there for a shock in the market soon.”

  “He’s around somewhere,” said Jonesy. “But hey, can’t believe you got engaged, man – what happened there?”

  “Took your advice in the end,” I said. “Just decided to bite the bullet.”

  Jonesy patted me on the back. “Good on ya, Rich – I never thought I’d see the day.”

  “Yeah, well, life catches up with the best of us.” I turned to walk over towards the bar.

  Jonesy followed. “So Saturday night – what happened to you? We were all wasted. Come on – spill! Did you cave in and head over to Lucy’s in the end?”

  I gestured to the barman. “Two pints of stout, please.” I turned back to Jonesy. “Nah, I told you then – Lucy was in a strop all last weekend. She’d been banging on for weeks about moving our relationship on – gave me grief about it again on Saturday morning before the match. No way was I going back for more of that.”

  “So where did you go then, if not to Lucy’s?”

  I looked around to make sure nobody was about, but it was just me and Jonesy by the bar at that stage. So I turned back towards the counter, lowered my voice and spoke out of the side of my mouth. “All right, if you really have to know. I ended up with Sonya. Don’t remember much about it – it was all a stupid mistake. Just wish I could forget it ever happened.”

  “What the f–? Sonya? Your brother’s girlfriend Sonya?”

  “Keep it down, will ya, Jonesy? Ed’s here. He’d kill me if he found out.”

  “No shit! What the hell were you doing with feckin’ Sonya of all people? We don’t even like her – I mean, she’s smokin’ hot ’n’ all, but you’re always saying what a cow she is to your brother. What were you playing at, Rich?”

  “It wasn’t intentional, believe me,” I said. “She came on to me, then dragged me out the back of the pub. I was completely wasted, remember? Didn’t stand a chance.”

  Jonesy raised his eyebrows. “Back of the pub? Classy.”

  “Yeah, well, it happened, man. I’m not particularly proud of myself, but it was all over before it began, and she hasn’t mentioned anything to anyone since, so hopefully that will just be that. A stupid mistake, never to be repeated.”

  The barman put one pint of stout down in front of Jonesy, and went to finish off the other.

  “I don’t get you, Rich.” Jonesy shook his head slowly. “Why would you want to mess a great girl like Lucy around? If you get a move on, you could have your own sons starting at Ashvale someday – best thing I ever did was marrying Karen and having Petey Junior.”

  “Yeah, yeah – I’ve done it, haven’t I? I felt so damned guilty about messing around on Lucy that I went and spent a fortune on a ring, then proposed last night.” I grabbed Jonesy’s pint and took a very welcome mouthful of cold stout.

  “Oi!” he said.

  “Snooze, you lose,” I smiled and wiped the froth from my upper lip.

  The barman placed the second pint in front of Jonesy.

  “You know your problem, Rich?” said Jonesy. “You’re stuck in the past, man. You still want to be the big man about town, playing the field, screwing all those beautiful women.”

  “Nah, that’s not it –” I tried to interrupt.

  “Just settle down, man. Enjoy where you are with Lucy – stop resisting it. You’re not getting any younger. We’re pushing forty now, remember?”

  “Get lost. We’re still only thirty-eight.” I sighed. “Ah, maybe you’re right.”

  “Right about what?”

  I swung around to see Ed behind me. I shot Jonesy a warning look.

  He got it.

  “I’m just congratulating your big brother here on his engagement, telling him it’s the best decision he’ll ever make,” said Jonesy, slapping me on the back.

  Ed looked unconvinced. “You disappeared pretty sharpish after the meal, Rich – Lucy was wondering where you’d got to.”

  I rolled my eyes. “What’s new?”

  “Getting the jitters already?” Ed asked. “How long you been engaged now, bro? Five minutes, is it? Or ten?”

  My brother was irritating me even more than usual of late. He’d been a thorn in my side since he’d jacked in his solicitor’s job to go off travelling just over two years earlier. As soon as he got back he’d started studying to be a teacher and with no income he’d been scrounging a rent-free room in my house ever since. All right, so shagging his girlfriend was probably going a little far –‒ I wasn’t proud of myself on that score – but it didn’t mean I could let him away with being an annoying git.

  “Get lost, Ed. I’m very happy with my decision as it happens,” I swirled the foamy liquid around the pint glass, “and I can’t wait to settle down.”

  “Well, I’ll believe that when I see it,” Ed said. “My brother? Make an honest woman out of someone?” He laughed. “That’ll be the day. Soon enough I’m sure you’ll mess things up with Lucy, the way you’ve done with every other woman you’ve ever gone out with.”

  “Laugh all you want, man,” I said. “I’d do it, if only just to get you out of my house.”

  Ed smiled. “You moving a wife in wouldn’t bother me one bit, Rich. I’d be quite happy living with Lucy as my sister-in-law.” He looked around. “In fact, she couldn’t be any worse to be around than my own girlfriend at the moment. There’s no pleasing Sonya these days. She’s been drinking for Ireland since we arrived, she’s half-trashed already and has been in a right mood all day. I can’t seem to do anything right.”

  Jonesy flashed me a knowing look, but I was careful not to react.

  “Ah, there’s Dec now.” I’d spotted him walking across the foyer. I threw a tenner on the bar, grabbed my pint, and escaped out of the bar.

  As I walked towards Dec I realised one of the people in the group talking to him was Mel McQuaid. She of hill-rolling fame was standing on the outskirts of the group. She looked up and smiled at me as I approached.

  I smiled back and had started to walk a little quicker towards them when a voice suddenly shrieked out across the foyer:

  “Well, would you look at who it is? Big Brother himself!”

  I didn’t have to look around. I knew the voice well.

  Sonya.

  Shite!

  I
glanced over at Mel who was staring behind me at Sonya. She looked back at me, then caught my eye for a second, before quickly looking away.

  I stopped dead in my tracks. Sonya caught up and stood straight in front of me. Her face was bright red, and so were her eyes – she looked like she’d been crying. And Ed was right: she’d obviously been drinking – the girl was actually swaying.

  “So does Lucy know you were out rolling around in the grass with some trollop earlier?” she shouted.

  I looked over at Mel to see if she’d heard.

  She’d heard all right – her eyes were out on sticks. She looked mortified.

  “I wondered how long it would take you to start messing around again, Richard,” Sonya said.

  “Cool it, Sonya. This is not the place.” I took her arm, but she shook me off.

  “Sonya, what’s going on?”

  I swung around to see Ed standing beside me.

  “Will you please tell me what in God’s name is the matter with you today?” he asked her.

  “Ed, man, don’t worry about it – go on back to the bar,” I said. “Everything’s fine.”

  “Oh, everything’s fine, is it?” Sonya said, her voice shaking. “I was very surprised to hear the news about your engagement today, Richard.” She straightened up to her full height. She glanced quickly at Ed then, before looking back at me. “Especially considering you were screwing me last week.”

  I closed my eyes. When I opened them I glanced over at Mel again – she, along with just about everybody else in the foyer was standing rooted to the spot, staring at us.

  Ed stepped forward and shook Sonya by the arm. “What is wrong with you, Sonya? Why would you say something like that?”

  She pushed him off. “Uh, I don’t know . . . maybe because it’s true?”

  Ed let go of Sonya, stepped back, and turned to look straight at me. That one look made me feel like a complete nothing.