Cold Eye of Heaven, The by Christine Dwyer Hickey Page B

into the hall.
    She nearly jumps out her skin when she sees him. ‘Jesus Mary and fucken Joseph,’ she cries out, slamming two crossed hands on her chestand gasping at him, ‘you frightened the life of me yafuckabastardya.’
    â€˜O, that’s lovely language for a lady, I must say!’
    Noreen gives him a slap in the arm as she passes. ‘I can’t wait for you to leave,’ she says, ‘you oul bastard, I’m sick of the sight of you.’
    She takes off her coat and hangs it outside in the hall, alongside his. He notices she isn’t dressed up and hasn’t the hair done either. Their eyes catch, then look away. Noreen stretches her back and rubs one shoulder.
    â€˜Go out and stick on the kettle there,’ she says to him. ‘Go on. It’s the least you could do for me on your last day.’
    When he comes back in with the steaming kettle in his hand, she has the mugs out and ready, two napkins laid out on her desk, a small fat bun sitting in the centre of each one. ‘Special occasion,’ she says. ‘You’re early. Don’t tell me you walked into work again?’
    â€˜I did.’
    â€˜The bus strike is over – you do know that? So it’s not as if you would have had to get a taxi or anything,’ she says this with a glinty eye.
    He plays along, ‘Don’t start me. Hungry shower of bastards. The more I think of…’
    They smile at each other. ‘Ah, I felt like the walk,’ he says, accepting the mug of tea from her hand. He waits a moment before asking, ‘How’s himself doin?’
    â€˜You don’t want to know.’
    â€˜O. Well, will you be alright later like, for the little do, and that?’
    â€˜What do you mean
little
do? I heard half the city is coming. A few strippers, Catherine Nevin jumping out of a cake. That’s what I heard in anyway.’
    â€˜O yea, right.’
    â€˜I’ll have to go home first. I’ve asked his sister to keep an eye on him but well – I wouldn’t bank on it, Farley. She’s not the most reliable.’
    â€˜No?’
    â€˜That’s the worst about having no family of your own. If we’d had a few kids at least
one
of them would be bound to be alright. I mean they couldn’t all be selfish shitheads – could they?’
    â€˜Some families have them in litters.’
    Noreen nods. ‘So, any more about Jackie? How’s he doing?’
    â€˜One minute he’s grand. The next he’s… Well, I don’t know what he is really. They’ll be running a few tests on him in the next couple of weeks. They’re talking as if, as if it’s you know, the same thing as your fella, but I don’t know. He seems a bit young for that – like he’s younger than me. And a schoolteacher too, Jaysus, you’d expect them to, you know? He’s coming tonight. I think. Maybe. I hope. Well, I do and I don’t. What do you think? You know, after going through it with Jim, what do you—?’
    â€˜Shut up and eat your bun,’ Noreen says.
    Farley picks the bun up and holds it in the palm of his hand. Then closing his fingers around it, bites down; a dry bulge in his throat. He throws a wallop of tea in after it and gulps. ‘Sorry, Noreen. I shouldn’t have brought it up.’
    She shrugs, takes a sip of her tea, then begins plucking the bun apart with her fingers. ‘Not today, Farley.’
    Farley watches her. She probably knows him better than anyone else – since Martina died anyway. Things he would have told her, other things she would have just picked up by herself. If he was to be honest she could well be the best friend he has. And yet, after today he might never see her again, or at least seldom see her. ‘We’ll keep in touch, Noreen,’ he says.
    â€˜What are you on about? Of course we will. So – tell us, have you decided about your trip yet? Come on,