Continued from Weekend 1
'Then as soon as Mass is over he takes the woman up to the candleshrine. They light two small candles. The two of them together light a third candle and then set the candle on the spikes between their own two candles. The third candle is for a wish, 'Always wish for something good and happy for yourself, Maura. There's no use in a star falling and no one seeing it and no one making a wish. Always wish something for yourself.' You'd nearly die. If John Quinn was ever an actor our Johnny and even Patrick Ryan would be only trotting after him. And the ladies lap it up - good-o."
"And that's the sort of church you're trying to get me to return to," Ruttledge said.
"The fellow doesn't go to church for religion," Mary said dismissively. "He only goes to see shows like John Quinn. It'd be a poor lookout if people were to follow him to church."
Jamesie enjoyed the chastisement, but then countered, "We go to the door of the church anyhow, which is more than can be said for some others present whose names will not be mentioned," he intoned loftily.
"Why did John Quinn marry if he could have all those other women without benefit of ceremony?"
"I'm surprised at you asking. There could be only one reason. He thought she had money. Maybe as well he was finding it that bit harder to get women. Like the rest of us he's getting no younger. His name as well was probably going ahead of him. He was getting too well known."
"And had she money?"
"I think she had but John didn't get his hands on any. She wasn't that foolish. She may have parted with some things but she didn't part with money."
"That fella," Mary said with disapproval but went on to say, "John always had horses. He had a white stallion then. When the odd mare used to come to the house he'd order the wife out to the yard to watch the performance. 'Natural and healthy, what God intended,' he'd say. The flat-bottomed boat he keeps below in the reeds is a living danger. Of course he had her out in the boat. He could be trying to get the money out of her. I'm sure she wasn't far from the truth when she asked was he thinking of throwing her in. A lot he cared about the birds and the blue mountain and the swans sailing."
"Why would he regale us with the poetry?"
"Because he thought it would suit, that it would go down well. It might help get Kate here on his side. John would watch mice at a crossroads," Mary said with the same dismissiveness as she described Jamesie's churchgoing.
"Anyhow it wasn't long till she left. The brother took her back. I don't think John got a farthing, which was a God's charity. They were decent, quiet people who minded their own business. They had no idea what John was like. Somebody was telling me not long ago that the poor thing isn't all that well."
"If anything were to happen to her, John will be marching up the aisle again. Mark my words," Jamesie said.
"He'd be trying anyhow whether he'd succeed or not. He's a pure disgust," Mary said.
From That They May Face the Rising Sun by John McGahern, published by Faber and Faber (£16.99). Review: Weekend 8