Redemption - Leon Uris [219]
“Thanks.”
“This brothel was strictly for nobility. As beautiful as Villa Valhalla…until those foul brutes from the Bradford Bulls came in…we were willing to share, but you know how it goes…everybody wanted the same two or three ladies and one thing led to another and someone made a rank anti-Irish remark…mind you, Conor wasn’t there.”
“And the shit hit the fan.”
“In diamonds. Rory, it was the punch-up of all times. Girls screaming, bodies flying, glass smashing, and then came the police. A few lads escaped, but I was hauled away in the paddy wagon, minus two teeth, along with most of our lads. You should have seen the headlines next morning…‘Lord Jeremy loses teeth for mates’…‘Future Earl of Foyle arrested in brothel brawl’…‘Midnight escapades of future member of Lords’…”
“And Conor was clean?”
“He didn’t have a clue. So, next day I’m on the carpet in Grandfather’s suite with my mother roasting my ass and Freddie trying to crawl under the couch. Conor is called into the room. Mother starts grilling him, not buying that he was innocent. He said—God, I’ll never forget it—’What do you want for a son, the Christmas fairy?’ Mother hauls off to slap him, but he catches her hand in midair and tells her he’d paddle her butt right before her father and son.”
Rory laughed aloud. His envy was silent.
“The three of us fellows were doubled up, hysterical, even me with my missing teeth. Mother smashed up a few vases, then joined us, laughing hardest of us all. That’s when my father came in.”
Jeremy suddenly went silent and wore an expression of hurt that Rory had come to know.
“He slapped me in the face and walked out.”
“That must have hurt real bad,” Rory said.
“It still does,” Jeremy said.
He patted Jeremy’s shoulder. “The Squire never got around to hitting me, but the way he looked at me, I sometimes wished he had beaten me instead. I got into brawls to get his attention. Maybe it was to win his love…or have him respect me for being a tough guy…then after a while, just to piss him off. That was the one that worked, pissing him off. I did plenty of that.”
The sadness flowed away. “Along with the Villa here, the Midlands trip has been it for me. Trinity, although there was Molly, I only remember in betrayals. Father, I expected to pound on me…and Swan, that was his vocation. But, Chris. Anyhow…I didn’t know at the time Conor was already involved in gunrunning for the Irish Republican Brotherhood.”
Rory held tight.
“I went on to Trinity in Dublin, met Molly. I saw Conor in Dublin only a few times. He was always in a hurry. I didn’t realize why until Sixmilecross. I desperately tried to get to see him in prison. It was impossible. Things were caving in on Molly and me. Conor would have made me do what was right. Everyone around him drew strength from him. Maybe, if I’d seen him, I could have been motivated to behave like a man…. I miss him very much, Rory.”
I do, too, Rory thought.
Leilah had been patient, just out of range. She softly made her presence known. Jeremy noted that he’d be in soon. She smiled and danced off.
“She’s crazy about you,” Rory said.
“She does her act well,” Jeremy answered.
“It’s more than that. You’ve treated them like ladies and made them feel beautiful. They can go a lifetime in Cairo without having felt that once. Sonya told me so.”
Jeremy wove into the villa. Rory submitted to an onrush from the hashish. Where would it end with him and Jeremy? How could it end in Ireland without disaster?
Ireland, which had once been life’s siren call now had ominous tones on its scale. Was he big enough to carry the Larkin name into Ireland? What could he do? Always be compared to Conor? No one was Conor. Sometimes it seemed that Conor wasn’t even Conor….
He stood gingerly and wove his way up the circular stair, balancing himself with his hand on the outside wall. A wind shift brought a din of street noises from across the Nile, high and shrill and flutelike….
Conor! You’re pissed at me for smoking hashish. Look