A Week in Winter(100)

Freda would say that Lane had an army of brooding young men who fancied her. Lane would laugh, and say that these were all out-of-work actors; all they fancied was two weeks’ work in her theatre. Lane said that she knew of at least three people who went in to that library just to talk to Freda rather than to open a book. They were always wanting to ask Freda out, but she never seemed to understand this and kept finding books for them instead . . .

This strong reaction both for and against Mark Malone had been so out of character for both girls.

Due to the success of Joe Duggan’s ‘Don’t Fear Technology’ lecture last week, the Friends of Finn Road Library have decided that there should be twice-weekly sessions on this topic.

Freda called to Eva to borrow a black beaded jacket. She had been invited to a drinks party at Holly’s Hotel in a couple of weeks’ time. Mark had gathered some journalists and tour operators for what he called a social drink. It was really part of his long-term plan to get the press on board over the plans for the hotel.

Eva had hoped Freda would stay for lunch.

‘You see, Eva,’ said Freda, guiltily, ‘I don’t really have all that much time . . . I have so many things to do just now.’

Eva looked at her directly.

‘What, exactly?’

‘Oh, you know, all the stuff at the library; this Friends thing has really taken off due to Joe Duggan, and they can’t get enough of him.’

‘No thanks to you, though.’

‘What do you mean?’ Freda was startled.

‘Well, you weren’t there to show him round the library, Lane and I did that. And then you took off for a weekend with Mark the actual night of his talk.’

‘Yes.’ Freda looked at the ground.

‘So he had an elderly twitcher like myself, and the manager of an experimental theatre to help him set up. Lord knows what he would have been able to achieve if he’d had a real librarian on the case.’

‘You were great, you and Lane, I thanked you, you did brilliantly.’

‘You weren’t there.’ Eva was stern.

‘Look, you know . . . you know the way things are.’

‘No, I don’t, actually. Why don’t you come looking for woodpeckers with me? And why don’t you ask Mark along too?’

‘Thank you so much, Eva, but when I said I was busy, I really am. I have a few fences to mend, if you know what I mean.’

‘I know what you mean.’

Freda knew Aunt Eva was right. As far as Lane was concerned, it was as if a curtain had fallen over their friendship. She would put on her polite face, which was more unsettling to Freda than her angry face. It was so distancing, so chilly.

Lane had not forgiven Freda for disappearing the night of Joe Duggan’s talk.

To Freda, it was really most petty and unfair of Lane to take this attitude. Joe had been a huge success; he was going to have his own series. In all her years at the library, Freda had never taken any time off like this before. And this was not even real regular library hours: this was something she had arranged as a volunteer, for heaven’s sake.

And Joe had understood. He had said that she was very kind to have arranged such a pleasant person to greet him. It wasn’t as if she had abandoned him or anything.

Such a fuss over nothing.

Mark had to be in London for a few days, so Freda felt easy about inviting Lane and Eva to have dinner at Ennio’s. She hoped that they would understand how she felt. It would be all right.

It was a happy evening as Freda, Lane and Eva sat in Ennio’s restaurant eating pasta and catching up.

Eva was organising her next birdwatching trip to the West of Ireland. There was a new hotel opening in a couple of weeks’ time, up on the cliffs above Stoneybridge. Perfect for birdwatchers. Eva was already planning her visit.

She paused dramatically and then proposed a toast. ‘You two are not to have a fight,’ she announced, ‘I won’t allow it. Especially over something as foolish as a man.’

By this stage, both Freda and Lane were laughing.

‘You’re such a stirrer, Eva, there’s no row,’ Freda said.

‘I’d never fight with Freda,’ Lane promised.

‘Great, that’s sorted, then.’

Lane and Freda looked at each other helplessly.

‘My aunt, the drama queen!’ Freda said.

‘Whatever made her think that we were going to have a row?’ Lane asked.

‘My saying I love Mark Malone, you saying he is a shit . . . that might have given her food for thought.’

‘I’ll never say anything like that about him again. I just thought you would have wanted to be there for Joe and his talk. But as it happens, it has worked out – he has asked me out on a date, so I forgive you,’ Lane said.

Freda leaned over and patted her on the wrist. And then, right in the middle of the meal, Freda was called to the phone. The waiter led her to a little desk which had the reservations book and handed her the phone.

‘Hallo?’ Freda had no idea who knew she was here.

‘Ciao, bella,’ the voice on the phone said.

‘Mark!’

‘Just wanted you to know I miss you, and it is quite ridiculous that I am at one boring dinner and you are at another when we could be together.’

‘Mine’s not a boring dinner, I told you – it’s friends,’ she said. ‘And anyway, you’re back tomorrow, aren’t you?’