A Week in Winter(101)

‘No, sadly not. I have to stay on here. More meetings. It won’t take much longer; I’ll get away as early as I can.’

The smile vanished from her face. ‘Oh no, but I’ve booked to have some time off!’

‘Well, I won’t make so many arrangements in future. Is that OK? Would you like me to cancel my business meetings?’ He sounded angry.

‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything.’ Freda was confused.

There was a pause.

‘All right,’ he said eventually. ‘I’m sorry, I’m under a lot of pressure here. We’ll speak tomorrow. I’ll know more then.’

‘Tomorrow, then,’ she agreed, shaken. And then as a thought just struck her, she asked, ‘Mark, why didn’t you call me on my mobile?’

‘I didn’t bring mine with me so I don’t have the number,’ he said smoothly. ‘I remember you said Ennio’s, so I looked it up in the book.’

‘Tomorrow, then,’ she said.

Back at the table, Lane asked her, ‘Was that him?’

Freda smiled. ‘It was, as it happens.’

‘Why didn’t he ring you on your mobile? Was he checking up to see if you were really where you’d said you’d be?’

Eva looked up sharply.

Lane’s tone had been light, but Freda found herself feeling very tense. After all, she had asked Mark the very same question herself. But she would admit none of this to Lane.

‘Oh, definitely, that’s it, a martyr to jealousy he is,’ she said with a very insincere little laugh.

‘What’s worrying you?’ Eva asked.

‘Nothing,’ Freda said. ‘He’s just having to stay on in London.’

For the very first time since she had gone to work there, Freda didn’t want to go in to the library. There were too many calls on her time. Lane still didn’t understand Mark; even Eva had lost patience. They just didn’t understand. Miss Duffy was being so demanding about categories. ‘A misfiled book is a lost book,’ was her great mantra.

There was that bossy woman who had complained that some book was sheer pornography and that she had mistakenly recommended it to her book club up in Chestnut Court. Someone else had thrown a tantrum about the lack of Zane Grey books. She needed to find Joe Duggan, and apologise again for not being at the library for his talks.

And she could deal with it all if she didn’t feel so uneasy after their conversation the night before. She had dreamed about the blonde again, and now she was sure Mark was married. But she didn’t care. He loved Freda. He told her so many times.

She straightened her shoulders and walked slowly up the steps that normally she took two at a time when she went into work.

A few days later, Eva invited Lane to come for lunch with her.

‘There’s a report of a great flock of Common Scoters over the other side of Howth, and there might be some rare ones among them.’

‘Uncommon Scoters?’ Lane suggested.

‘Well, Velvet Scoters, they’re called actually.’

‘Velvet? Sounds good.’

‘They’re sea ducks, the males are all jet black with yellow bills, the females have white necks and dull grey bills. Winter visitors. Come with me in the car and we’ll have a sandwich in a pub out that way,’ Eva suggested.

‘And what will I wear?’

‘Nothing too bright that would alarm them. Don’t know what the weather’s doing but, you know, lots of waterproof anoraks and scarves and sweaters and maybe a backpack or lots of pockets.’

It was the best offer Lane had had. Freda was like a weasel, with Mark making plans and then cancelling them at the last moment; when he wasn’t around, she just sat staring at her phone waiting for him to ring. Lane said she’d love the drive.

As they left the main roads behind and headed towards the sea, Eva pointed out the migrating birds newly arrived: flocks of white-fronted geese as well as the ducks, swans and wading birds that came down from the Arctic. Now they would have plenty of things to see.

Eva concentrated hard on the busy traffic.

‘Will we go somewhere there’s easy parking?’ she suggested, and that was why they chose the dark wine bar near the sea.

Which was where they saw Mark Malone, who was meant to be in England at a conference.

He was sitting at a table over by the window. Opposite him was a blonde woman in jeans and a thick Aran sweater. Between them was a little girl. She looked very young and very happy. They were the perfect happy family, as if there was nobody but the three of them in the place.

Mark and the woman were feeding each other forkfuls of pasta and then laughing after each mouthful. The little girl was laughing at them gleefully. The three of them shared such affection and closeness, there was no doubt that they all belonged together.

Eva and Lane looked at them, stunned.

They were unable to back out of the restaurant before being seen. As Mark looked up and caught sight of them, his face froze into an angry mask.

Eva and Lane looked at each other and at exactly the same moment they both said, ‘The bastard!’ Then without another word they walked out, got into Eva’s car and began to drive back to the city.

As they drove off, Lane asked, ‘Do birds do that, you know, cheat all round them?’

‘It’s complicated.’