Vengeance: A Novel (Quirke) Read Online Free Page B
Author: Benjamin Black
summer frock and when she lifted her freckled arm to pull a pint he glimpsed a smear of sweat-damp coppery moss in the shadowed hollow of her armpit. Her name was Sadie.
Watching the woman made him think of Jonas Delahaye’s girlfriend. Not that Sadie resembled Tanya Somers even in the least degree. Just picturing Tanya in her black swimsuit gave him an ache at the root of his tongue. Not a hope there, of course. On the other hand, you could never tell. He was more than twice her age, but some young ones, he knew, had a taste for older men—look at Mona Delahaye. That would be some row, if he were to have a go at Jonas’s stuck-up girlfriend and got found out. Jonas, that spoiled whelp. He knew Jonas and Tanya were sleeping together. They were in separate bedrooms, but that was only for the look of it, and not to scandalize old Ma Hartigan; every night after lights-out Jonas was in there like a shot, Jack knew it for sure. Victor Delahaye prided himself on being broad-minded and modern, now that his father was ailing and he was no longer under the old man’s thumb. Victor’s sister was a different matter, though; when Tanya came sashaying through the house, Maggie’s mouth got small and wrinkled, as if she were sucking on a sour sweet.
And what about Davy? Jack was uneasily aware that his son was of an age to be his rival when it came to the ladies. Davy was a handsome young fellow—Jack had seen the looks women gave him, even Mona Delahaye. What if Davy were to make a play for Tanya Somers? That was a possibility Jack did not care to contemplate. A row of that scale between the two families would be disastrous, especially now, when all his plans for the future of the firm were so delicately balanced.
* * *
He thought, not for the first time, how strange it must be being a twin. The Delahaye brothers, tall, blond, blue-eyed, were like two peas in a pod. Imagine having someone around all the time who was your spitting image. Jonas and James did not seem to mind; in fact, they were always together. What, he wondered, did James make of Tanya Somers? Would he resent her, would he be envious—resentful of her for coming between him and his brother, and envious of his brother for having her? And Tanya: Was she able to tell the difference between the twins? What if Jonas and James were to swap places some night and James were to slip into bed with her—would she know it was him? Or what if the two of them got in with her, one on either side—would she be able to tell them apart? Those two big blond lads in bed with Tanya in the middle, that was a thought he had found himself entertaining on more than one occasion over these past weeks, with a mixture of excitement, envy, and sweet regret. He was forty-seven, himself, and hated it.
He signaled to Sadie for another Jamaica red rum. He handed over a ten-shilling note and when she brought the change she gave him a queer sort of smile, her lips pressed together and one eyebrow arched, and he did not know what to make of it. Either she was telling him she knew his type and he was not to bother trying, or the opposite, that she liked the look of him and would listen to any offer he might care to make. If it was the latter, it would be impossible, down here. He had made that mistake once before, years ago—a cattle dealer’s wife over at Crosshaven, a redhead too, as it happened—and had got such a beating from the cattle dealer’s three brutes of sons that there were bones in his shoulders and his back that still ached when the weather turned wet. But surely Sadie must come up to the city sometimes, to shop, or whatever. He would slip her his phone number before he left.
A fellow he knew from the sailing club came in and Jack stood him a drink and they talked boats for a while. Jack loved being in a pub at this time of a summer evening, loved the sound of slow talk and the rich reek of whiskey, loved the look of sunshine the color of brass coming in at the
Watching the woman made him think of Jonas Delahaye’s girlfriend. Not that Sadie resembled Tanya Somers even in the least degree. Just picturing Tanya in her black swimsuit gave him an ache at the root of his tongue. Not a hope there, of course. On the other hand, you could never tell. He was more than twice her age, but some young ones, he knew, had a taste for older men—look at Mona Delahaye. That would be some row, if he were to have a go at Jonas’s stuck-up girlfriend and got found out. Jonas, that spoiled whelp. He knew Jonas and Tanya were sleeping together. They were in separate bedrooms, but that was only for the look of it, and not to scandalize old Ma Hartigan; every night after lights-out Jonas was in there like a shot, Jack knew it for sure. Victor Delahaye prided himself on being broad-minded and modern, now that his father was ailing and he was no longer under the old man’s thumb. Victor’s sister was a different matter, though; when Tanya came sashaying through the house, Maggie’s mouth got small and wrinkled, as if she were sucking on a sour sweet.
And what about Davy? Jack was uneasily aware that his son was of an age to be his rival when it came to the ladies. Davy was a handsome young fellow—Jack had seen the looks women gave him, even Mona Delahaye. What if Davy were to make a play for Tanya Somers? That was a possibility Jack did not care to contemplate. A row of that scale between the two families would be disastrous, especially now, when all his plans for the future of the firm were so delicately balanced.
* * *
He thought, not for the first time, how strange it must be being a twin. The Delahaye brothers, tall, blond, blue-eyed, were like two peas in a pod. Imagine having someone around all the time who was your spitting image. Jonas and James did not seem to mind; in fact, they were always together. What, he wondered, did James make of Tanya Somers? Would he resent her, would he be envious—resentful of her for coming between him and his brother, and envious of his brother for having her? And Tanya: Was she able to tell the difference between the twins? What if Jonas and James were to swap places some night and James were to slip into bed with her—would she know it was him? Or what if the two of them got in with her, one on either side—would she be able to tell them apart? Those two big blond lads in bed with Tanya in the middle, that was a thought he had found himself entertaining on more than one occasion over these past weeks, with a mixture of excitement, envy, and sweet regret. He was forty-seven, himself, and hated it.
He signaled to Sadie for another Jamaica red rum. He handed over a ten-shilling note and when she brought the change she gave him a queer sort of smile, her lips pressed together and one eyebrow arched, and he did not know what to make of it. Either she was telling him she knew his type and he was not to bother trying, or the opposite, that she liked the look of him and would listen to any offer he might care to make. If it was the latter, it would be impossible, down here. He had made that mistake once before, years ago—a cattle dealer’s wife over at Crosshaven, a redhead too, as it happened—and had got such a beating from the cattle dealer’s three brutes of sons that there were bones in his shoulders and his back that still ached when the weather turned wet. But surely Sadie must come up to the city sometimes, to shop, or whatever. He would slip her his phone number before he left.
A fellow he knew from the sailing club came in and Jack stood him a drink and they talked boats for a while. Jack loved being in a pub at this time of a summer evening, loved the sound of slow talk and the rich reek of whiskey, loved the look of sunshine the color of brass coming in at the