A Keeper(16)

‘I’ve just lit the fire. I wasn’t expecting you for a while. You made great time.’

Edward stood in the doorway holding the case and still wearing his coat. He looked as much of a visitor as Patricia did.

‘There was very little on the road.’

‘You weren’t speeding, I hope. Was he speeding?’

Patricia opened her mouth to reassure her that he hadn’t but it turned out the question was rhetorical. ‘Sit down there,’ Mrs Foley continued, patting the back of the small over-stuffed sofa. ‘Will you take the poor girl’s coat, Teddy? I have the kettle on.’ The last few words were called over her shoulder as she left the room.

Edward and Patricia stood and looked at each other. He reached out his hand and Patricia unbuttoned her coat and gave it to him.

‘Teddy?’

‘My mother calls me that.’ He paused and something unsaid passed between them. The sense that they were on one team and Mrs Foley was on another. ‘You can call me Teddy if you want,’ he offered.

‘I think I prefer Edward.’

He held up her coat and case to indicate he was going to deal with them. ‘Sit, so.’

‘Thanks.’

Alone, she looked around the small room. Everything seemed to be shades of brown and orange. The wallpaper was a dense mesh of autumn leaves and the fire burned in a small beige-tiled fireplace that looked much newer than the house. A rug in swirls of gold and hazel covered most of the floor, with a border of wood-effect lino covering the gap between it and the wall. Patricia was struck by how unlived-in the room seemed. Apart from an underwhelming oval mirror on the chimney breast, the walls were bare. Small wooden tables were pushed against the walls but there were no ornaments, books or magazines. The only light came from the shadeless single bulb hanging from the ceiling. It looked like the people who lived here had moved out.

The door burst open and Mrs Foley appeared with a tray of cups and saucers and a fat brown teapot. She hesitated, unsure of where to place it, and then opted for the low table to the right of the fireplace.

‘Where’s Teddy? Is he hanging your coat? You must be parched after that drive. I’m boiling a ham for the dinner. I hope that will do you. It’s Teddy’s favourite. Do you take sugar?’ A pause for breath. Patricia shook her head and took the cup of milky tea that she was being offered.

‘Thank you,’ she said quietly, not wanting to interrupt Mrs Foley’s flow.

‘Aren’t you a great girl to make that journey all by yourself? Outside Kilkenny you’re from, is it? Teddy told me. I’ve never been there myself. The ICA did a trip there once to see the castle and they had a tour of the brewery but sure, why would I want to see that, so I didn’t go. The girls loved it though. Said it was a very nice city. Narrow streets. Sure, I suppose you go there rarely enough yourself. You were looking after your mother, weren’t you? Teddy mentioned it. Very sorry for your loss. It must be hard for you being all alone. You have a brother, I think Teddy said. Are you two close?’

The room suddenly fell silent and Patricia realised that she was being asked to speak. It was becoming clear to her why Edward was a man of so few words.

‘Not especially, no.’

Edward stepped sheepishly back into the room and was handed a cup of tea and encouraged by a cushion-patting hand to sit next to Patricia on the sofa. All of this occurred while his mother continued her monologue.

‘Of course boys and girls are very different. I would have loved a little girl but it wasn’t to be. I just have Teddy now, and it’s a long time since anyone called him a boy. He works hard, don’t you, Teddy? Dairy isn’t an easy life but it’s the life we know and we get by, don’t we, Teddy?’ Edward didn’t even look up. He evidently understood that the tsunami of chat would just wash over him and it did. Patricia sipped her tea and occasionally nodded or smiled when she felt it was appropriate. Somehow, like a ventriloquist drinking a glass of water, Mrs Foley had managed to consume her tea without pausing for breath. Putting her cup back on the tray she concluded. ‘Look at the time. You should be getting on with the milking. I have the dinner on. Would Mary like to go with you?’

Edward froze and stared at his mother, who at first didn’t seem to have noticed her mistake, but then a ripple of horror crossed her face.

‘Patricia! Patricia! My mind is away!’

‘Don’t worry about it.’ Patricia wasn’t sure what had just happened but she knew it hadn’t offended her. Edward had his back to her and his mother.

‘Where did you put Patricia’s coat?’ Mrs Foley was back in full flow. The two young people were herded into the hall and towards the back of the house. Patricia’s coat was retrieved from a heaving row of pegs and Edward slipped on a pair of waiting wellington boots. He opened the back door and the rush of wind came as a welcome relief from the incessant chatter of the last few minutes.

Head bowed, Edward looked sideways at Patricia.

‘She likes to talk.’

‘She does.’

They exchanged a look and again she felt that they were somehow on the same side.

Edward pointed back towards where the car was parked. ‘That’s the orchard.’ Patricia looked at the couple of dozen stunted trees permanently cowering at right angles against the tireless wind. She followed him as he walked towards the ruins of the castle. Mounting what she assumed had been the steps to the main entrance, she took his arm for balance. Under the rough material of his jacket, he felt solid, manly.