by Rachel Ryan
“D’you want to talk to me at all about what’s going on?” Jimmy asked her later, when Cody had settled in front of the TV.
Georgina shook her head.
“Well,” he went on, a little gruffly, “if you ever do want to talk, you know I’m here, don’t you?”
“I know, Dad.”
They sat in silence for a while. The only sound was the radio. A news piece on the war in Afghanistan was followed by a debate on abortion. “Jaysis, Georgina.” Jimmy got to his feet. “Let’s listen to something a bit more cheerful, shall we?” He changed the station. “Now, are you sure you don’t want a cup of tea?”
She smiled. “Really, Dad, I’m fine.”
“Well, how about I take Cody to the cinema for the afternoon? Give you a break?”
“Now that,” she said gratefully, “would be brilliant. Thanks, Dad.”
* * *
With Jimmy and Cody gone, Georgina was left alone with her thoughts.
Less than a year ago, her mother would have been here too. Cooking, cracking jokes, making Georgina feel better.
Without her, the big house felt so silent.
What would you have said, Mom? Georgina went into the front room to look at the photo of her newlywed parents on the mantelpiece. Did you ever have moments when you lost faith in your marriage? It was hard to believe. Her parents had always spoken so fondly of the past.
Last May, Georgina and her mother had stood right here and looked at this photo together. “Oh, we were happy back then,” Rose said dreamily. She’d been sick at the time, but not too sick to walk around. “Did you know that after we were married, we were stuck in a B&B for months? The purchase of our first house had fallen through, and everyone felt sorry for us, but as long as we could be together, we were happy. The B&B was in Drumcondra, on Clonliffe Road, and we used to walk by the canal. Then, of course, we ended up buying this house, so thank God the first one fell through. Everything happens for a reason, Georgina…”
Six weeks later, she was gone. Georgina could almost hear her mother’s warm voice echo in the room. She missed her so badly it felt like a physical ache.
Before going upstairs, Georgina walked from room to room, ensuring all doors and windows downstairs were securely locked. Paranoid, one voice whispered inside her. Sensible, another countered. Then she went to her childhood bedroom and lay down.
In the same spot she used to lie as a skinny teenager, worrying about acne and exams and boys, Georgina stared at the ceiling and wondered about Bren.
Last time she’d checked her phone, she had several missed calls from him. This afternoon was the appointment he had booked for her with the therapist. If Georgina hadn’t found those documents, she would be there right now, flicking through magazines in the waiting room.
When the mother can be proven an unfit parent…
Mentally ill or unstable…
She remembered, unbidden, the figure at the window on their date night, and shivered. A dark thought whispered to her: If Bren has been orchestrating everything, does that mean he got someone to stand at the window? To stare in at you while he was undressing you? To terrify you at your most vulnerable, then tell you it’s all in your head?
Georgina flinched from that thought as if it were an angry, buzzing hornet.
She rolled onto her side. After a while, her phone rang. She looked at the screen. Bren, again.
She turned her phone off. A minute later, the house phone began to ring downstairs.
Georgina didn’t budge. Bren must have guessed she’d gone to her father’s. She lay on the bed and listened.
Ring-ring. Ring-ring.
It rang out. Then, a moment later:
Ring-ring…
Someone was determined to get an answer. Maybe it wasn’t Bren at all. Maybe it was someone looking for Jimmy. Or—Georgina sat bolt upright—maybe it was Jimmy himself. Maybe he was trying to contact her and, finding her phone off, had called the landline. Maybe something had happened to Cody.
That thought sent her running down the stairs.
She grabbed the phone. “Hello?”
But the only sound on the other end was a faint crackle.
She looked at the screen. Private number. Bren never had his phone on private.
“Dad? Is that you?”
In the pause that followed, she could hear breathing.
“Who is this?”
The breathing was heavy, distinct. There was movement on the other end. A scratching noise.
And Georgina knew, with absolutely certainty, that this was the same person who had called before and sat without speaking on the line.
“I know you’re there,” she said, loud and angry. For a moment she forgot to be afraid. “Say something.”
Was she imagining things, or did it sound like a woman breathing?
“Emma?” she half whispered, disbelieving.
The line went dead.
Georgina put the phone down, a deep feeling of unease gathering beneath her rib cage. She dialed Jimmy’s number. “Hi, Dad, everything okay? You weren’t ringing me on the house phone by any chance, were you?”
“No, love. Everything’s grand. We’re having a great time.”
Georgina made some small talk about “just checking in” before hanging up.
Who was calling her?
And how had they known she was here?
She went to the front window and peeped through the curtains. A neat front lawn. A quiet suburban street. Nothing to see.
It was at that very moment that the half memory that had been bothering her returned. Clicking into place.
Rathmines. Emma lived in Rathmines.
Wasn’t a café in Rathmines one of the only outlets where Caffrey’s toffees could be purchased?
She pulled out her phone and swiftly searched the website. Yes, she’d remembered correctly. Conkers Café, Rathmines.
The golden wrappers in Cody’s pockets. The wrapper she had tugged out of the dirt in the icy park.
Georgina stood statue-still before sinking slowly into a seated position on the stairs. She sat there for a long time.
Rathmines. Was it a connection or coincidence? All Georgina knew was that a cold fear was spreading through her.
Yes, Jimmy bought those sweets. But that didn’t mean he was the only person in Dublin who did.
Small details kept coming back to her. All the nights Bren had been working late. The way Cody’s eyes had flickered towards him—“I made her up.” Of course he would lie for his own father.
The thought formed itself, finally, the one she hadn’t wanted to face.
Could Cody’s “new granny” be Emma’s mother? Was the plan to replace Georgina—a new granny and a new mommy too?
Chapter 27
Stay here, her mind offered. You don’t have to give your dad the details. Just tell him you and Cody need to stay a few days. He won’t pry.
But what about Cody’s school stuff? Her laptop, her makeup, her phone charger? What an enormous inconvenience, what a lot of awkwardness and difficulty, and for what? Yes, Bren had some questions to answer, but he was still Bren. It was ridiculous to be afraid of going home to her husband.
Wasn’t it?
Georgina was still sitting on the stairs, struggling with her thoughts, when Jimmy and Cody got back from the cinema.
“You all right, Georgina?” Jimmy asked as Cody rushed to hug her.
“Much better.”
She thought about how strong Bren was. How lean, muscular. All those hours at the gym. The arms that wrapped around her during sex and held her afterwards while she fell asleep. Usually those strong arms made her feel, in some deep primal way, utterly safe. Now…
Cody yawned widely.
“I think someone’s a bit tired,” said Jimmy. “Might be time to get him home.”
“I am not.” But Cody yawned again, leaning into his mother’s arms.
Georgina looked down at her child’s perfect, innocent face and felt sud
denly clear-eyed. Bren would never hurt their son. It was impossible.
Of course she and Cody could go home. Of course they would be safe.
“Yes, time to go, sweetie,” she said, getting to her feet. She kissed Jimmy goodbye. “Thanks for everything, Dad.”
Cody was nodding off in the back seat all the way, but Georgina felt anxiously awake and alert.
When they reached the house, however, Bren wasn’t there.
“Where’s Dad?”
“He must be working late, sweetie.”
It was long after dark. Cody fell asleep on the sofa, and Georgina pulled a blanket over him.
Where was Bren? She turned her phone back on. She had no new messages.
Walking into the kitchen, she tried calling him, but his phone was off.
This was most unlike him.
With a growing sense of unease, she went back into the hall, where she stumbled over a bag of trash waiting to be carried out to the recycling. And—dammit—the garbage can had to be put out for collection. That was Bren’s job.
She thought of Bren’s strong, capable hands. The crook of his neck where her head fitted so perfectly. He had always seemed so clear to her, so vivid. Now, when she tried to picture him, the image was blurred around the edges, distorted.
How could she ask him about the terrible thoughts she was having? But how could she make any decisions without giving him a chance to defend himself first?
Her head was spinning.
Focus on the small things, one at a time.
Georgina grabbed the bag of trash and made for the front door.
Her hand was on the latch when something caused her to hesitate. Perhaps the memory of that anonymous phone call. Maybe she shouldn’t go outside. Maybe she should wait until Bren got back.
Don’t be ridiculous. You’re just taking the trash out.
She had enough problems right now without the garbage overflowing for the next fortnight. She opened the door.
Cold night air prickled her skin. Briskly she walked across the garden, put the bag into the can, and began to wheel it out to the road.
The night was quiet, almost unnaturally still, as if the whole city was holding its breath. Despite herself, Georgina couldn’t help imagining this as a scene in a horror movie. Eerie music getting louder as she got farther away from the door. The audience covering their eyes. Don’t go out there! Get back inside! Unable to watch as Georgina made her way down the short driveway, pulling the garbage can behind her—
Stop it. She maneuvered the can onto the road.
Right. Job done. Time to go back inside.
She paused at the gate and took one last, thorough look around. Nobody about. Not even a passerby in the distance.
Just then, she heard a small sound, like someone suppressing a cough.
Georgina took two steps back, into her own garden. Her eyes flicked up and down the road, but there was no one in sight.
There it was again. A muffled half cough.
Muffled, but close.
Georgina turned towards her garden and looked at the car.
There couldn’t be, she thought numbly.
Very slowly, she lowered herself into a squatting position. Braced on the balls of her feet, she leaned forward, hands on the ground, and lowered her head so that her cheek was parallel with the concrete.
Through the narrow gap between the ground and the body of their car, she saw feet. A hunkered-down shape.
There was someone crouched behind her car.
Chapter 28
How Georgina managed not to cry out in alarm, she did not know. The person on the other side of the car remained completely still.
Very slowly, Georgina pushed her upper body away from the concrete and looked towards the house. She just had to make it inside and close the door…
She sprang to her feet and began to run. In the periphery of her vision, she saw the person behind the car straighten up. In her terror, she stumbled and hit the ground. Hard.
Dazed, she scrambled to her feet—
And found them standing in front of her, silhouetted against the warm light from the hall, face in shadow.
The figure moved forward, and Georgina flinched back.
A new light fell on their face—his face.
Bren’s face.
“Bren.” Georgina pressed a hand shakily to her chest. “Jesus Christ. You scared the life out of me!”
He said nothing.
“What the hell were you doing?”
Still, Bren didn’t speak. He was swaying slightly.
Then she realized he was drunk. Very drunk. Drunker than she’d seen him in years.
“I was looking through the window,” he slurred. “To see if you were in.” He looked awful—eyes red-rimmed, skin pasty. “Didn’t want you to see me like this. When you came out, I hid behind the car.”
He took a couple of staggering steps forward. He stank of beer. She stepped back.
“I thought you were at work.”
“Yeah, well… went for a few afterwards, didn’t I?” His bleary eyes focused on her. “It’s your fault anyway,” he said, his voice suddenly clearer and harder. “So don’t give me that look.”
Instinctively, Georgina found herself gauging her chances of dodging past him and into the house. Some primeval part of her brain made the evaluation without being asked and delivered the answer to her consciousness: Yes, you could make it, just move fast.
Bren saw her eyes flicker from him to the door. Drunk as he was, understanding crossed his face.
Then his features crumpled. She had never seen him look so hurt.
“Georgina,” he said, making an obvious effort not to slur his words, “are you afraid of me?”
She couldn’t answer. For a long moment, neither of them spoke.
Then Bren took several unsteady steps to the side, out of her way. Hands outstretched, palms up.
“Go in if you want,” he said. “I would never try to stop you. You know that, right? If you want to leave me, I understand. But I don’t understand how you could ever think I’d hurt you.”
He looked so unhappy, so sorry.
But the documents on his computer. The toffees that were sold in Rathmines.
“I know what you think.” He swayed slightly where he stood. “You think I’ve been seeing Emma.”
Georgina hugged her arms around herself. Somehow they were having this conversation here, in the garden, in the icy cold. But she didn’t want to risk breaking the moment by suggesting they move inside. She must proceed with caution.
“Why would I think that?”
Bren looked at her with real anguish. “I know it looks bad. But I swear to Christ, it was just that one night. And I know I should have told you the whole truth from the start, but—fuck. I was too much of a coward. I was terrified you’d leave me.”
Georgina said nothing.
Child custody: how dads can win.
When the mother can be proven an unfit parent…
“I found something on your computer.” The words came pouring out of her mouth; she felt powerless to stop them. “I wasn’t snooping, it was an accident. I downloaded something, and when I went into your downloads folder, I just stumbled across…”
Bren stared at her uncomprehendingly. “Across what?”
“Some documents about child custody. How fathers can get custody.”
Bren looked blank for another moment. Then slow comprehension spread across his face—and, with it, horror.
“Oh, no… Georgina, no. It’s not what you’re thinking. I was afraid you were going to leave me. You were so angry and hurt when you thought I’d just kissed someone else… I kept picturing you learning the whole truth and leaving. So I read up on custody. I downloaded loads of resources, but only skim-read most of them. Some of it was really nasty stuff. I can understand why you would think—but, Georgina, I swear—” Bren spread his hands imploringly. “I only wanted to know what the situation would be if you wanted
a divorce. What rights I would have to my son. That was all.”
Georgina felt every atom of her body exhale simultaneously. She hadn’t realized how much tension she had been holding until that moment.
“I love you, Georgie,” Bren said. “I’d never leave you. You know that, don’t you? I can’t picture my life without you.”
The relief was extraordinary. It had all been coincidence, circumstance, miscommunication. Georgina almost fell into Bren’s arms right then, beer stink and all. But there was something holding her back.
“So you’re telling me you haven’t seen Emma in person since that night?”
“No. Georgina…” Bren trailed off. He hesitated, then spoke with a little more force. “D’you really want to know the truth about Emma?”
Oh, God. When he said it like that, did she?
“Yes,” she said. It was the only answer she could give.
“All right,” he said quietly. “This is the truth.” He closed his eyes for a long moment, opened them again, and continued.
“I was bored. It’s such a fucking cliché, and I hate to admit it, but I was bored. The seven-year itch or whatever. Before I went out to that stupid reunion, I’d been bored for a while. Bored with my life. Bored with us. Wondering if I’d made the right choice getting married. Wondering if there wasn’t still something new out there for me, some new woman or new adventure…”
Georgina felt an icy sensation spreading through her gut that had nothing to do with the cold.
“You know what I’m talking about. The grass-is-always-greener kind of thing. It’s not that I thought I could ever do better than you. It’s just that I missed meeting someone new for the first time. That’s not something we could ever give each other again. I was curious. I was uncertain about what I wanted. I was sure I loved you, but I wasn’t sure I wanted only us, this, for the rest of my life…”
He gestured, implying the unseen bonds that tethered them. There was silence for a moment. Georgina waited. Bren’s breath puffed clouds of moisture. The moonlight shone silver on the frosty grass around his feet.