Unravelling Oliver(11)

It was my idea. I went to Alice’s mother myself and suggested it. I would come by every day before work and help Eugene get washed and dressed and bring him to the remedial centre where he spent his days. Mrs O’Reilly would collect him herself and then I’d come over after dinner and help get him settled, take him on a quick imaginary flight in the chair, read him a story and get him into bed. She wasn’t too pleased by the idea initially, but I eventually managed to persuade her that Alice deserved a break after all her years of minding the mad fella. We broke the news to Alice together. I was very proud of myself. I don’t go out of my way to do a lot of things that aren’t in some way for me, but I was doing this for Alice and, I suppose, so that she knew how much I loved her, without me having to say it. I’m useless at that soppy stuff.

Those three weeks were the longest of my entire life. Eugene was no problem. He whimpered a bit at bedtime because I didn’t read the stories like Alice did, but he really was very good. I missed Alice myself, more than I thought I would. So much so that two days before she was due back, I shut up the garage early and took myself into the Happy Ring House on O’Connell Street and bought a diamond engagement ring. I’d been saving up a long time, without really knowing it myself, and the fella in the shop was very helpful. It wasn’t a massive diamond, just a small flat one on a thin gold band. The fella in the shop said it was discreet. I think that’s probably polite for small.

I was expecting her back on the Saturday night. I was all prepared to go and collect her, but her mother said one of the gang was giving her a lift home from the airport. By Sunday evening she still hadn’t rung. The engagement ring in its velvet box was burning a hole in my pocket. I decided to go round.

Mrs O’Reilly answered the door. I remember thinking how lucky it was when she put me in the formal sitting room and told me Alice would be with me shortly. I didn’t want to propose over the kitchen table in front of Eugene and the mammy.

When Alice came in and avoided looking at me, suddenly I knew there was something terribly wrong. Even though her eyes were red-rimmed from crying, she looked beautiful to me then. Her skin was a kind of goldy-brown and her hair was lightened auburn by the sun. She had freckles I’d never seen before. For a minute, I felt that it was all going to be OK, that whatever was wrong could be solved by the box in my pocket.

‘Barney,’ she said, ‘I’m sorry.’

I knew instantly by the way she said it that she meant she was sorry for me. She was apologizing to me. How stupid could I have been? I felt an instant pain deep in my gut. I was actually winded. Somebody else. Oliver. Alice and Oliver. I had delivered her into his arms to prove how much I loved her.

‘Oliver,’ I said. Not a question.

Why in the name of Jesus didn’t I cop that sooner? He was hardly inviting us out to dinner for my company. I’d thought it was to do with work, but how could it have been when they rarely discussed work on those nights out? Still, even if I had guessed he liked her, I’d never have thought that she was into him. She was my girlfriend, after all.

The Happy Ring House wouldn’t give me my money back. I ended up swapping it for a brooch for Mam’s birthday a few months later. For a long time, I was very sad about the whole thing. I had had it all planned, you see, down to the three children and the extra room I would build on to our house for Eugene with his own record player so he could dance when he wanted. I hadn’t thought of a future without Alice. I was raging with jealousy and wondered if they’d slept together already. Probably. Oliver was some operator, but I fecking helped him. I couldn’t bear to see either of them for months after that. A couple of weeks after we split, I removed the spark plugs from Oliver’s car when I saw it parked outside Alice’s. And then, like a smack, in December I got a wedding invitation in the post with a note attached from Alice, saying she’d perfectly understand if I didn’t want to come, that she’d always be fond of me and that she’d never forget my kindness to her and Eugene.

Mam made me go. ‘Hold your head up high,’ she said, ‘and don’t let that snobby bitch think that you’re not good enough.’ I’d never heard her say the word ‘bitch’ before, but Mam took it as hard as I did myself. I’m sure she’d thought we were going up in the world. I never thought Alice was a bitch.

The wedding was quite small. Oliver had no family there. I thought that was peculiar myself. Maybe he hadn’t got family, but it’s unusual not to even be able to rustle up an uncle or a cousin. They didn’t go for the big fancy hotel reception. I was grand until they exchanged vows in the church, and then I went to pieces. Susan and DIY Dave took me out and gave me a proper talking to. Then there was a good dinner in a restaurant in town owned by some gay fella friend of Oliver’s. I don’t know how I made it through the meal. I probably wouldn’t have gone at all if I’d known it was such a small wedding. I wasn’t really able to get lost in the crowd. I did get to chat to Alice on our own for a bit. She looked gorgeous and I told her so. She tried to tell me that I’d meet the right person one day. I smiled and nodded and wished her and Oliver the best.

It annoyed the shite out of me that Oliver never even saw me as competition. He never acknowledged me as Alice’s boyfriend, or ex-boyfriend. I was beneath him. That’s how he made me feel back then. I know better now.

Mrs O’Reilly said I’d always be welcome in their house, and Eugene said he missed me and he was sorry if he’d done something bad and could we be friends again. I swear that fella would break your heart. They should have explained it to him, instead of treating him like an eejit. I did call in to the house after that, and I’d take Eugene out for a drive on the odd Sunday. I even taught him a few things. I think Alice and her ma had stopped trying with Eugene after a certain point, but I didn’t see any reason not to try and help him, so after a few months with me, he could eat his own dinner with a spoon if I cut up the food for him, and he learned to wipe his chin after I gave him a ‘magic’ handkerchief. Mrs O’Reilly was delighted with me. She told me one night that she thought Alice had made a mistake with Oliver, but as soon as she’d said it, she tried to unsay it. I suppose she felt it wouldn’t help anyone to say it, but I was glad because it helped me.