Part 32 (1/2)

UNCLE MAURICE WAS IN much better humour that morning. He was so cheerful, in fact, that Tess was suspicious. Something had to be wrong.

She helped him, all the same, as he finished the milking.

'You're up early,' he said. 'Do you always get up so early? At home, I mean?'

'Not usually,' said Tess, pulling open the sliding door of the milking parlour to let the last of the cows go out. 'Specially not at weekends. It's different here, somehow.'

'It is,' said Uncle Maurice. 'The light is different. It comes earlier in the country than it does in the town.'

It didn't, but Tess knew what he meant. There was a clarity about the dawn and an urgency in it. Maybe it was the racket that the birds made, or the fact that no buildings or exhaust fumes obscured the sun. Maybe it was none of those things, but Tess's own urgency; her knowledge that time was running out.

Her uncle's voice disturbed her thoughts. 'What do you make of that boy, then?'

'Which boy?'

'The lad that took the rats away. Did you see that?'

'I did. It was amazing, wasn't it?'

'Amazing is right,' said Uncle Maurice. 'Would you say he could do it again? In another place, like?'

'I don't see why not,' said Tess.

'No. I don't either.' He took the pipe out of the creamery tank and connected the milking system up to the tap to be cleaned out. He was whistling as he worked, uncharacteristically happy. There was definitely something wrong.

After breakfast, Tess and Brian shared the was.h.i.+ng-up. Orla sat in the corner of the kitchen wheezing, and reading the book with the deer-man on the cover.

'Did you ever read this, Tess?' she asked.

Tess shook her head. 'We did a lot of that stuff in primary school,' she said. 'I've forgotten most of it now.'

'You should read it,' said Orla. 'It's all about the Tuatha de Danaan.'

The mention of the name of the old G.o.ds of Ireland sent one of those electric feelings up Tess's spine, but before she could a.n.a.lyse it she was distracted by an excited yell from Colm outside. Brian ran to the front door and, when he didn't come back, Tess and Orla followed.

The source of Colm's excitement was Kevin, who was just arriving at the yard gate on his bicycle. Colm was there before him and had climbed up to the top bar when Uncle Maurice caught up and gathered him into his arms. It seemed that everyone was converging on Kevin.

'Come in, come in,' said Uncle Maurice, setting Colm down and opening the gate. Again his cheerful mood set alarm bells ringing in Tess's mind.

'Come in till we get a cup of tea,' he went on, leading the way into the house. Everyone followed except for the ever dutiful Brian, who was left with the job of closing the heavy gate.

Aunt Deirdre had come in from the garden and the kettle was already on. Kevin sat down at the table or, more accurately, he slumped. Tess was so accustomed to seeing him that she hadn't noticed the changes in his body, but all of a sudden they had become obvious. He was like a bag of bones, big bones, all loosely connected and not very well coordinated. His feet were enormous and his hands were long, with knuckles everywhere. He seemed acutely embarra.s.sed by this strange body but it would, Tess realised, soon begin to make more sense. The hollows would flesh out and the shambling slackness would turn to smooth strength. Kevin was growing out of being a boy and would soon be a man.

The dawning truth was a shock to Tess. Kevin s.h.i.+fted uncomfortably and she realised that, while the rest of the family had been bustling about getting comfortable, she had been staring at him. She turned away quickly and helped her aunt to get out cups and biscuits. Uncle Maurice was settling himself into a chair opposite Kevin. As Tess poured milk into a jug and set it down on the table he began to speak.

'Have you done much of it, then? This rat clearance?'

Kevin tapped his fingers on the table and watched them. 'Not so much, really,' he said.

'You wouldn't be well known, then? Around the place?'

'No. I wouldn't be, I suppose.'

Tess set out the cups. She didn't like the way the conversation was going. Uncle Maurice nodded, absorbing what Kevin had said. In the brief silence, Colm climbed on to a chair beside Kevin and reached across the table for the best biscuit; the pink wafer.

'Colm!' said his mother, in a warning tone.

But if Colm heard her, he made no response. He continued with what he was doing and, to everyone's surprise, handed the special biscuit to Kevin. His face was as pink as the biscuit, glowing with shy charm. When Kevin shook his head his face clouded over with disappointment.

'He wants you to have it,' said Brian. 'He'll be disappointed if you don't.'

Kevin took the biscuit and ate it. Uncle Maurice began again.

'Where do you live, then?'

'Dublin,' said Kevin.

'On holiday down here, are you?'

'Sort of,' said Kevin. Tess made a point of not looking at him, but from the corner of her eye she could see that he was acutely embarra.s.sed by the continued attention of the children. Colm was standing on the chair and gazing into his face with undisguised adoration. At a slightly more respectful distance, Orla and Brian were also staring with admiring expressions. It was clear that, as far as the younger members of the family were concerned, they were entertaining royalty. But Uncle Maurice was not of the same opinion.

'Are your mother and father on holiday with you?' he asked.

It was one question too many. Kevin stood up. 'If you don't mind,' he said, 'I'll take my money and get on my way.'

'Ah, now,' said Uncle Maurice, standing up as well. 'No need to be hasty. I didn't mean to pry. Sure, what does it matter, anyway?'

Aunt Deirdre spoke for the first time. 'Have your tea, now. 'Tis made and all.'

She poured it out and Kevin sat down again, reluctantly. Colm handed him another biscuit, a jam one. The silence while he ate it threatened to be a long one, and Tess broke it before it became too awkward.

'You have great weather, anyway. For your holiday.'

'I have,' said Kevin.

'He has, he has,' said Uncle Maurice and Aunt Deirdre together.

The silence fell again and Uncle Maurice finally got round to saying what was on his mind. 'No,' he began. 'It's only ... Just ... I thought you could make a great business out of that rat-catching game.'

'I could, I suppose,' said Kevin.

'If you had the right backing, that is. The right kind of manager.'

Tess turned away to hide the expression of disgust on her face. So that was what he was up to.

'I'm not sure,' Kevin began, but Uncle Maurice had launched his campaign and could no longer stem his excitement.