he felt now.
They woke late and had to scramble for the bus. They thought that everyone in the clinic knew what they had done, though this could not possibly be so. Declan didn't care if they did know. He would be proud for them to know. And in two days’ time Fiona was coming home with him to meet his parents to have supper in St. Jar-lath's Crescent. What could go wrong with life now?
Molly had got a new perm for the occasion and she had warned Paddy a hundred times that he was to wear a jacket and tie for the meal. She had ironed the table napkins, which had been a wedding present when they married and hardly ever used since.
Tim had told Declan that he would give him the loan of his car for a few days.
“Am I insured?” Declan wished that he weren't always so cautious.
“Sure, you're on my insurance, and have my permission to drive the car. Anyway, you're not a maniac driver, I'd say!” Tim laughed.
Declan rehearsed the journey so that he wouldn't be a complete amateur. On the day of the big meal he saw that Fiona had fixed her hair and had brought smart clothes into work. A cream silk dress and jacket. Her best outfit. Possibly too smart. His mother would find fault with that too. Back home, Dimples had been washed and brushed and refused permission to sit on his favorite chair. Dad's friend Muttie Scarlet had been warned not to call in and ask Paddyout for a pint. Declan's mother was wearing lipstick at breakfast. She told them she was breaking it in since she didn't normally indulge. He wanted to hold her newly permed head to him and tell her that she was marvelous and he loved her and that he would never abandon them, but of course he did nothing except grin foolishly and say it would be a wonderful evening.
The day seemed endless. Bobby Walsh had been having chest pains, and his wife said he was not going into that ward where everyone from all parts of this country and the Lord knew what other countries was gathered. Whatever he came in with, he would be much, much worse when he came out.
Declan wished that their son, Carl, was with them. He would be able to calm his mother down.
For the second time since he had gone to work there, Declan found himself watching the clock. Finally it was time to leave and he opened the door of Tim's car proudly for Fiona. His girlfriend. They drove cheerily through the traffic, Fiona chattering happily about the day that had just ended. What a marvelous man Lar was, his mind so full of information. How Mrs. Walsh, Bobby's awful wife, had sighed and groaned at Lavender when she was giving her a diet sheet for Bobby.
“At least you're Irish. I suppose that's one thing that can be said about you,” was how Mrs. Walsh had finished.
“Right in front of Ania. Really, the woman is a monster!”
After a while she noticed that Declan wasn't responding. “Am I talking too much? I'll be quieter when we get there,” she promised.
“No, don't be quiet, please don't. Just be yourself. But you will realize that they are themselves too.” He looked very sad.
“But they're your mam and dad. I'll love them. They produced you. What's not to love about them?”
“They're awkward and shy. They're not normal and casual like your parents.”
“Ah, God, Declan! Would you come on! No one's parents are normal. It will be fine.”
• • •
Back at St. Jarlath's Crescent, Molly and Paddy were ready. The kitchen was glowing with its peach-colored walls and gleaming white paintwork. The melon was sliced and each piece had a glacé cherry on top. The roast was cooking away in the oven, beef chosen carefully by Paddy Carroll, master butcher, that day. Was there anything else that should be done?
“That dog will want to have a wee the moment the girl arrives,” Molly declared.
“Right, I'll take him out now,” said Paddy Carroll, who thought this night would never be over.
“But be back in time!” Molly screamed.
Paddy put the big dog on the lead and
They woke late and had to scramble for the bus. They thought that everyone in the clinic knew what they had done, though this could not possibly be so. Declan didn't care if they did know. He would be proud for them to know. And in two days’ time Fiona was coming home with him to meet his parents to have supper in St. Jar-lath's Crescent. What could go wrong with life now?
Molly had got a new perm for the occasion and she had warned Paddy a hundred times that he was to wear a jacket and tie for the meal. She had ironed the table napkins, which had been a wedding present when they married and hardly ever used since.
Tim had told Declan that he would give him the loan of his car for a few days.
“Am I insured?” Declan wished that he weren't always so cautious.
“Sure, you're on my insurance, and have my permission to drive the car. Anyway, you're not a maniac driver, I'd say!” Tim laughed.
Declan rehearsed the journey so that he wouldn't be a complete amateur. On the day of the big meal he saw that Fiona had fixed her hair and had brought smart clothes into work. A cream silk dress and jacket. Her best outfit. Possibly too smart. His mother would find fault with that too. Back home, Dimples had been washed and brushed and refused permission to sit on his favorite chair. Dad's friend Muttie Scarlet had been warned not to call in and ask Paddyout for a pint. Declan's mother was wearing lipstick at breakfast. She told them she was breaking it in since she didn't normally indulge. He wanted to hold her newly permed head to him and tell her that she was marvelous and he loved her and that he would never abandon them, but of course he did nothing except grin foolishly and say it would be a wonderful evening.
The day seemed endless. Bobby Walsh had been having chest pains, and his wife said he was not going into that ward where everyone from all parts of this country and the Lord knew what other countries was gathered. Whatever he came in with, he would be much, much worse when he came out.
Declan wished that their son, Carl, was with them. He would be able to calm his mother down.
For the second time since he had gone to work there, Declan found himself watching the clock. Finally it was time to leave and he opened the door of Tim's car proudly for Fiona. His girlfriend. They drove cheerily through the traffic, Fiona chattering happily about the day that had just ended. What a marvelous man Lar was, his mind so full of information. How Mrs. Walsh, Bobby's awful wife, had sighed and groaned at Lavender when she was giving her a diet sheet for Bobby.
“At least you're Irish. I suppose that's one thing that can be said about you,” was how Mrs. Walsh had finished.
“Right in front of Ania. Really, the woman is a monster!”
After a while she noticed that Declan wasn't responding. “Am I talking too much? I'll be quieter when we get there,” she promised.
“No, don't be quiet, please don't. Just be yourself. But you will realize that they are themselves too.” He looked very sad.
“But they're your mam and dad. I'll love them. They produced you. What's not to love about them?”
“They're awkward and shy. They're not normal and casual like your parents.”
“Ah, God, Declan! Would you come on! No one's parents are normal. It will be fine.”
• • •
Back at St. Jarlath's Crescent, Molly and Paddy were ready. The kitchen was glowing with its peach-colored walls and gleaming white paintwork. The melon was sliced and each piece had a glacé cherry on top. The roast was cooking away in the oven, beef chosen carefully by Paddy Carroll, master butcher, that day. Was there anything else that should be done?
“That dog will want to have a wee the moment the girl arrives,” Molly declared.
“Right, I'll take him out now,” said Paddy Carroll, who thought this night would never be over.
“But be back in time!” Molly screamed.
Paddy put the big dog on the lead and
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