Faithful Place (Dublin Murder Squad, #3)(57)
“Come on,” I said to Holly, finding her other shoe and tossing it to her. “Let’s go bring your auntie Jackie for a walk, and then we can get that pizza I promised you Friday night.”
One of the many joys of divorce is that I no longer have to go for bracing Sunday walks in Dalkey, swapping polite nods with beige couples who feel that my accent brings down the property values. Holly likes the swings in Herbert Park—as far as I can gather from the intense low-level monologue once she gets her momentum on, they count as horses and have something to do with Robin Hood—so we took her there. The day had turned cold and bright, just the right side of frosty, and lots of divorced dads had had the same idea. Some of them had brought the trophy girlfriend along for the ride. What with Jackie and her fake-leopard jacket, I fit right in.
Holly launched herself at the swings, and Jackie and I found a bench where we could keep an eye on her. Watching Holly swing is one of the best therapies I know. The kid is strong, for such a little snip of a thing; she can keep going for hours without getting tired, and I can keep watching, happily getting hypnotized by the rhythm of it. When I felt my shoulders start to drop, I realized just how tight they had been. I took deep breaths and wondered how I was going to keep my blood pressure under control once Holly outgrew playgrounds.
Jackie said, “God, she’s after growing a foot just since I saw her last, isn’t she? She’ll be taller than me in no time.”
“Any day now, I’m going to lock her in her room till her eighteenth birthday. I’m only waiting till the first time she mentions a boy’s name without making gagging noises.” I stretched out my legs in front of me, clasped my hands behind my head, angled my face to the weak sun and thought about spending the rest of the afternoon exactly like this. My shoulders went down another notch.
“Brace yourself. They start awful early, these days.”
“Not Holly. I’ve told her boys don’t get potty-trained till they’re twenty.”
Jackie laughed. “That just means she’ll go for the older fellas.”
“Old enough to understand that Daddy has a revolver.”
Jackie said, “Tell me something, Francis. Are you all right?”
“I will be once the hangover wears off. Got any aspirin?”
She rummaged in her bag. “I’ve nothing. A bit of a headache’ll do you good: you’ll mind your booze better the next time. That’s not what I meant, anyway. I meant . . . you know. Are you all right, after yesterday? And last night?”
“I’m a man of leisure in the park with two lovely ladies. How could I be anything but happy?”
“You were right: Shay was being a prick. He should’ve never said that about Rosie.”
“Won’t do her much harm now.”
“I wouldn’t say he ever got next nor near her, sure. Not that way. He was only trying to annoy you.”
“No shit, Sherlock. You can’t keep a man from doing what he loves.”
“He’s not usually like that. I’m not saying he’s a saint these days, but he’s after chilling out loads since you knew him. He’s just . . . he’s not sure what to make of you coming back, know what I mean?”
I said, “Don’t worry about it, babe. Seriously. Do me a favor: let it go, enjoy the sunshine and watch my kid being gorgeous. OK?”
Jackie laughed. “Grand,” she said. “We’ll do that.”
Holly did her share by being every bit as beautiful as I could ask for: wisps of hair had come loose from her ponytails and the sun was setting them on fire, and she was singing away to herself in a happy undertone. The neat sweep of her spine and the effortless bend and stretch of her legs worked their way gradually through my muscles, loosening them sweetly like a first-rate spliff. “She’s done all her homework,” I said, after a while. “Want to go to the pictures, after we eat?”
“I’m calling in at home, sure.”
All four of the others still put themselves through the weekly nightmare: Sunday evening with Mammy and Daddy, roast beef and tricolored ice cream and it’s all fun and games until somebody loses their mind. I said, “So get there late. Be a rebel.”
“I said I’d meet Gav in town first, for a pint before he goes off with the lads. If I don’t spend a bit of time with him, he’ll think I’m after getting myself a toy boy. I only called round to see were you all right.”
“Tell him to come too.”
“To some cartoon yoke?”
“Right at his level.”
“Shut up, you,” Jackie said peacefully. “You don’t appreciate Gavin.”
“Definitely not the way you do. But then, I doubt he’d want me appreciating him the way you do.”
“You’re bleeding disgusting, so you are. I was meaning to ask, what happened to your hand?”
“I was saving a screaming virgin from Satanist Nazi bikers.”
“Ah, no, seriously. You didn’t have a fall, did you? After you left us? You were a bit—now, I’m not saying you were langered, but—”
That was when my phone rang, the one my boys and girls in the field use. “Keep an eye on Holly,” I said, fishing it out of my pocket: no name, and I didn’t recognize the number. “I have to take this. Hello?”