When All Is Said(30)

He’d tracked me down to a farm in Balnaboy where Francie was harvesting a few acres. I’d gone along to check all was going well. Best always to keep an eye. No matter how good your lads are, the odd spot check doesn’t do any harm. I’d finished having the chat with Francie and was heading back to the Jeep at the far end of the field when I saw Robert’s Range Rover pull up. I watched him get out and walk over to my Jeep and lean his back against my driver door. He waved. I didn’t bother to reply.

‘Well,’ I said on arriving within earshot.

‘Maurice. How’s she faring?’

I came up along beside him and stood at my rear door. We remained that way for a bit, looking out on the cut rows. Like a badly shaved head, they were. Tufts sticking up everywhere. But the gold being poured into those trailers at the top of the field was a sight to behold. The yield was great that day. When I saw them fill, grains rushing down the funnel like some powerful waterfall, my heart fluttered a little. Not that it was my own grain. But still, the sight of a yield such as that always gave me a thrill. Robert pulled at a forlorn stalk and started to shred what was left of it. I watched him take it apart until only flakes remained and fell from his hand into the wheel tracks below.

‘Emily was over with me. She was wondering would you call to see her tonight.’

I looked at him, then out at the fields.

‘No,’ I said.

‘An hour. That’s all she wants.’

I watched Francie turn the harvester to begin on another row of oats. Inch by inch the crop was swallowed up. When he was a quarter of the way up the line, I’d had my fill of Robert waiting for me to change my mind and decided it was time to move on. I stood in front of him.

‘Listen,’ I said, ‘that’s your job to talk business with her. That’s what I pay you for.’

I gestured for him to move. But he held his ground.

‘Hilary’s away, she said. It’s nothing to worry about.’

‘Well, that’s alright then. Because we all know what a fierce man I am for the fretting.’

‘Ah, Jesus, Maurice. An hour. It won’t kill you. Seven, she said.’

And with that he left my door and opened his own. ‘I’m texting her now that you’ll be there, on the dot,’ he said, hanging out of his open window, his fingers already pressing buttons on his phone. He turned to me with a smile, pushed his last button, winked, and drove away.

I arrived at seven fifteen. The place was busy. There was a bit of activity around the reception desk so it was a while before I came to rest my elbow on it.

‘Is she about?’ I asked.

‘Yes indeed, Mr Hannigan,’ the young man said to me. I hadn’t a clue who he was and was a little taken aback that he knew me. ‘Let me show you the way. If you’ll follow me.’ He had an accent I couldn’t place. He rounded the counter with a big smile. My hands found their way back into my pockets and I followed him. He led me to a wide, expansive meeting room. Long trestle tables were pushed to the sides, leaving one round table in the middle, all set for dinner.

‘If you’d like to take a seat here. I’ll let Miss Bruton know you’ve arrived.’

He held out one of the chairs for me but I waved away his offer. He gave a courteous bow and left.

I sauntered to the table, giving it a good once over. All she was short of was the romantic candles. An envelope with my name on it stood leaning up against the vase of flowers in the centre. I took it up, turned it over once or twice, before replacing it and moving away to the windows to take in the street. I inhaled deeply like I might be able to smell the evening air outside, but what met me was the smell of business. The crisp clean air of efficiency, washed fabrics and hoovered carpets intermingling with the slightest waft of the posies from the table. I watched the cars come and go over the bridge. At the far side of it, I could see two people make their way into Hartigan’s, but I couldn’t place them. To my left, the lights went out in Lavin’s newsagents. I saw the door at the back of the shop that led to his private quarters close, pulling the last of the light out, leaving the place in darkness. The outside of the shop looked naked without its postcards and plastic toys that usually hung from the metal bars of his awning. When I heard the door behind me open, I turned my body a little in its direction, my head to the side.

‘You know I’m a happily married man,’ I called into the room.

‘And a good evening to you too,’ she replied.

I turned back to the road for a minute.

‘Will you be standing over there for the whole evening or might you be joining me?’

‘Robert said nothing about dinner. I’ve eaten already.’

I turned fully to face her now.

‘Well, I’m ravenous.’

She was seated and raised her hand in invitation to the chair opposite. My hands still in my pockets, I walked back and sat like a man waiting for a bus that was about to arrive. I felt her eyes on me.

‘Shall I put you out of your misery, Mr Hannigan, and tell you what this is all about?’ she asked. I shrugged. ‘It’s ten years. Ten years since you gave me … since we went into partnership.’

I hadn’t realised. ‘Is that right?’ I said, releasing one of my hands to take off my cap and run it through my hair.

‘And, given this place is at last turning a profit, I thought it only proper that we should celebrate.’ I raised an eyebrow. ‘Robert tells me you never ask about the place. That you don’t even care about your return, small enough though it’s been over the years.’