A Grand Old Time: The laugh-out-loud and feel-good romantic comedy with a difference you must read in 2018. Judy Leigh
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Автор: Judy Leigh
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Современная зарубежная литература
isbn: 9780008269203
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‘But I need—’
‘Why don’t you pop to the chemist over the road and buy something to sort it out for the time being? Will I make you an appointment with another doctor for tomorrow morning?’ She dropped her voice conspiratorially. ‘Dr Singh. She’ll sort your diarrhoea out for you, sure enough. Nine sharp. Will that do?’ Maura smiled prettily, all teeth.
The young man’s shoulders slumped. He moved away from the counter and the pregnant girl with the child started to whisper something about painful piles. He saw Maura flash a warm smile and he couldn’t remember when she had last turned the same smile on him. Brendan strained up on his toes and wiggled his hand.
‘Maura?’
She was writing something down. He shifted from one foot to another and looked behind him. He was the last in the queue. Almost two o’clock. The old man in the mac took his place at the front of the queue. Maura raised an eyebrow at him.
‘Yes? How can I help you today?’
Brendan marvelled at how she dealt with the public with such genuine warmth. The man took off his cap and leaned against the reception desk.
‘Good afternoon to you, my lovely. I have an appointment with the nurse. Ten to two.’
Maura’s tone brightened. ‘You’re looking a million dollars yourself, but you’re still late, Mr O’Malley. The nurse is ready for you. Will you go to the top of the stairs, turn right, and wait?’
Suddenly it was Brendan’s turn, and he wanted to tell her his news so that she could sort out the problem. Maura met his eyes and her brows crossed. Her hair was pulled tight to the top of her head; she had combed it smooth and the strands separated into tramlines, the curls pinned and sprayed like a brittle golden crown. Her suit was blue and firmly buttoned across the chest, and the blouse collar stuck over her jacket like twin rasping tongues.
Brendan drew his breath to speak but she was there first.
‘Brendan, why in heaven’s name are you—?’
‘It’s my mother, she’s gone!’
‘God rest her soul.’ Maura did not seem unhappy; her face did not move.
‘No, Maura, she’s not dead, she’s run away. Left the home.’
At first, Maura did not speak. Her mouth was open; red lips, the beginnings of wrinkles around the corners. ‘Well, she’s really lost the plot this time.’
‘Jenny Marshall at Sheldon Lodge rang the Guards. They are keeping an eye out for her.’
‘And there’s a good thing.’
‘I’ve the afternoon off. I’m going to fetch her back. Come on.’
Maura stared at Brendan as if all this was his fault. ‘I don’t finish till four.’
‘The car’s outside.’
A loud beeping came from Brendan’s pocket and he pulled out his mobile.
Maura frowned. ‘The Garda, maybe? Perhaps she’s been on the brandy again and they’ve found her drunk in a ditch.’ She smiled at her own joke but Brendan was absorbed with his mobile.
‘Hello? Yes, this is Brendan Gallagher … Yes, she’s my mother. What?’
Brendan listened. His fingers fumbled as he put the phone away in his pocket.
Maura rolled her eyes. ‘Well?’
‘That was the Guards. They’ve found Mammy’s coat and handbag. In a bin.’
Evie was talking to herself. In the airport lounge, sitting with a caramel latte that tasted like creamy pudding. She decided that she was telling herself it was delicious and she liked this modern coffee. As she stared at the froth in the cup an hour later, a clipped voice announced over the speakers that the plane would be delayed for an hour.
She drank two more coffees, visited the toilet twice and, when she sat down again, she noticed her hands were shaking. She watched as other passengers picked up luggage and moved excitedly as if flying was quite normal. Her breathing had become shallow and she wondered if she shouldn’t buy herself a small brandy. When they called her flight number, she whispered to herself that people flew on planes every day and what on earth was she so worried about.
In the aeroplane, sitting by the window, lost in thought, she muttered to herself that flying in an aeroplane was quite safe, nothing bad ever happened, well, not often, only in the films. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision, to take her life in her hands and fly in a plane, to do something she’d never done by herself, to be up in the air for over an hour and to go shopping with her winnings. She’d never been on an aeroplane alone before, but she didn’t regret it, no, not at all.
Other people were looking at her. She was becoming one of those mad old ladies who talked to themselves because they had nobody else to listen. The flight to John Lennon Airport would only take a short time, it would soon be over and she would touch down in England. The last flight she had made was with Jim to Majorca five years ago and she had squeezed his hand all the way there.
Jim. Evie shook her head; he had been alive last year, but gaunt and coughing in a hospital bed. The sheets were a shroud the day he died and when she returned home the house still smelled of stale cigarettes and the aftershave he wore, once warm and alive. It was a summer day but everywhere was filled with cold.
She fiddled with her safety belt. ‘Calm down now, Evie. There’s nothing at all to worry about. It’ll be grand once you get there.’
‘We’re sitting here, love – all right?’ A red-haired young man indicated the two seats next to her; one held her handbag. He had a Liverpool accent. Evie nodded towards him, wondering if he had heard her talking to herself. He sat down next to her with his friend, who was smaller and dark-haired. Evie huddled towards the window and stared out again. On the tarmac, some people in uniforms were moving luggage on a trolley. The young men slid down in their seats. The red-haired one in the centre next to her tucked his legs under the seat in front of him and withdrew them again, crossing them uncomfortably, and he gave a little laugh.
‘We’ll get a bevvy when we take off, Paul?’ He nudged his friend. Then he turned to Evie.
‘I’m Danny; this is Paul.’ The dark-haired one, Paul, bobbed his head at her.
‘I’m Evie Gallagher. I’m going shopping to Liverpool and I’ve never been on a plane by myself—’ The plane began to rumble and the vibrations rattled in her chest, making her suck in air. ‘Oh my …’ She felt the plane lurch and then the engine juddered. Her fingers twisted around the arms of her seat.
Danny СКАЧАТЬ