It's All About Him

by Colette Caddle

  Peggy's eyes filled up and she quickly wiped them on her sleeve. Neil had never confided in her before, why would he start now? Even when he was Sam's age he'd been a secretive little monkey and it would have concerned her more if he hadn't been so good-humoured and outgoing. She wondered now, though, if that character trait had had any bearing on his addiction and if there was something she could have done to change it. Maybe if his father hadn't died of a brain haemorrhage when he was only fourteen he wouldn't have strayed from the straight and narrow. Certainly, Mick would have stopped him going off around the world. But it was the very fact that she had lost her husband when they were still relatively young that had made Peggy realize she had to let her son go. Life was too short and she wanted him to experience it to the full. She loved getting the postcards every month – although she knew it was Dee who sent them – from exotic places and she was happy that he was doing it with such a lovely girl. She'd been proud of the way Neil had taken Dee under his wing. The young girl had been so shy and reserved when he had first brought her home but had positively blossomed as the relationship deepened. Peggy had had her doubts about Dee giving up her college place to go travelling and she had understood why Pauline was concerned that Dee was squandering her inheritance, but she had never doubted that Neil loved the girl or that he would take good care of her.

  Peggy slumped down on to the freshly made bed, letting the tears run unheeded down her cheeks. She had felt physical pain when she found out what had happened out in Greece and though he was her son and she loved him, she found it hard to come to terms with what Neil had done. It didn't help that he had always refused to discuss it with her.

  'I've made my peace with Dee, Mum, and recompensed her and that's all that should concern you,' he'd told her, several times, but it wasn't enough for Peggy. She wanted him to tell her what had made him do such a terrible thing; what it was that had turned him from being a confident and happy young man into a deceitful, pathetic excuse for a man. She wanted him to talk to her about the gambling and to rely on her for support if he needed it. Again, he dismissed her entreaties, saying that it was all in the past and she shouldn't worry about it. But she did.

  The first Peggy knew about the whole incident in Greece was when Pauline Fogarty, Dee's aunt, had made a brief but extremely angry phone call the night after Dee got home. It wasn't until after Sam was born that Dee gave her the full history of Neil's downward spiral into addiction. It had been hard to hear but after the long silence, Peggy had welcomed the information, feeling now she could at least help if ever Neil wanted her to.

  He had called briefly soon after the break-up and had merely told her that things hadn't worked out and that he was continuing his travels alone. When she'd questioned him about what Pauline had told her, he'd hung up.

  When Peggy first found out about her son's behaviour she went through a variety of emotions. The first, predictably, had been denial, but as the days passed and Dee refused to talk to her, she began to realize it must be true. Then had come anger; how could her son have done such a thing? She had brought him up better than that! She hadn't had much to give him when it came to material things but she prided herself that she had given him her moral code and she was horrified and furious that he could turn out so badly. Then had come guilt; what had she done or, indeed, not done, that had resulted in him turning out this way? And why, if he was really dealing with an addiction and all that that entailed, had he not felt he could turn to her?

  It was then that she'd phoned first the Samaritans and then Gamblers Anonymous. The people she had talked to in both organizations had been kind, informative and had given her the same advice; wait. Her son had a disease and it was impossible to help him until he was ready to be helped.

  'I don't even know where he is!' she'd wailed.

  'He'll probably come home when he reaches rock bottom,' she was told. 'You just need to be there for him when he does.'

  After that, Peggy had borrowed books on the subject from the library, determined that when Neil eventually came back to her she would be fully equipped to help him but instead of the broken shell of a man that she'd been expecting, a prosperous and confident one had walked through her door, one who very politely informed her that he didn't need her help, it was 'sorted'.

  That was what unnerved her most and stopped her from begging Dee to give him a chance. She would never say it aloud, but she wasn't quite sure she trusted Neil.

  Wiping her eyes, Peggy stood up to go – it wouldn't do for him to find her in here – when her eyes came to rest on the papers by the bed. They were probably just bills, he certainly wasn't going to leave anything important lying around; he was almost obsessively secretive. She bent and strained to read the small print; her glasses were downstairs but she was afraid to go and fetch them in case Neil returned. Neither did she want to pick up the documents in case she put them back in the wrong order and he noticed. Since when, she thought tiredly, had she become so afraid of her own son?

  The top document was, as she'd suspected, a bill. It was for seven hundred and eighty euros from a garage near the airport. She frowned. It seemed like too new a car to need a service and if anything had gone wrong with it, surely it would have been taken care of tinder warranty? She would think about that later when she had more time. She moved it slightly to one side so she could see the page underneath. The words made no sense to her, presumably it was Spanish. There was only one page left and it was slightly crumpled and, her pulse quickened, it was handwritten. The writing was small and untidy – definitely not Neil's – and Peggy struggled to make out the words, not even sure if they were actually in English.

  She froze as she heard Neil's key in the door and jumping to her feet, she quickly smoothed down the bedspread and fixed the pages back the way she'd found them. She was standing in the doorway, trying to look composed when he reached the top of the stairs.

  'What were you doing in my room?' he asked, frowning.

  'And hello to you too,' she laughed.

  'Mother?'

  When had he stopped calling her Mam, she wondered? 'I was changing your sheets.'

  He shot her a suspicious look and then brushed past her to go into the room.

  'You're welcome,' she muttered, heading for the stairs.

  'Sorry, Mam, thanks.'

  She turned back to see him standing in the doorway looking slightly shamefaced.

  She smiled. 'You're welcome. Neil—'

  'Sorry, Mother, can't talk now, I have to make a call.'

  'Sure, no problem.' She went downstairs and started to make some ham sandwiches for their lunch.

  Every time she tried to get close, tried to talk to him, he just backed off, she thought, feeling frustrated. Sometimes, he had paperwork to do or he had a meeting to go to, or like now, he had an important call to make. Peggy sincerely hoped he was as busy as he made out and it was business and not gambling that was preoccupying him. She wondered if she would get another opportunity to look at that letter; if only she had read it first maybe she would have had time to make sense of it before he had interrupted her. And then there was the mystery of the bill from the car dealership; what on earth could it be for?

  She wished she had someone she could ask; she cut the sandwiches with a little more force than was strictly necessary. She felt so alone and isolated; the only person she could really turn to was Dee and she couldn't do that; it would be the ultimate betrayal. There was her family and Mick's, all of whom were close but, despite that, she'd never told them about Neil's gambling problem. She told herself it was because she wanted to protect him but she knew that it was really because she felt embarrassed and ashamed. She understood it was an illness but she doubted that other people would believe that and so she bore her burden alone.

  When Neil had come back she had called Gamblers Anonymous again and asked the lovely man who answered if she could believe what her son was telling her.

  'It's possible,' he had said cautiously, 'but I would a
dvise you to be careful. Don't give him access to any of your bank accounts and if he asks you to invest in his business, don't.'

  'It seems wrong to be suspicious of my own son,' she'd replied.

  'You have to be.'

  'Is it normal for addicts to be so secretive?'

  'They are all very secretive when they're gambling for obvious reasons but when they start on the recovery process it's usually a huge relief to be able to talk about it. Perhaps he's just too embarrassed to tell you how bad things got. Is there anyone else he might talk to?'

  Dee was the only one Peggy could think of and she told the counsellor the story and how Neil wanted to get to know his son.

  'It would be good to get him to open up to her and, at some stage, even talk to his son about his addiction. But at the same time, and this goes for you too, you have to protect yourselves. It's up to him to prove to you that he's trustworthy again.'

  Peggy set the sandwiches on the table, made some tea and then went to the door.

  'Neil, lunch,' she called.

  She was sitting at the table on her second sandwich by the time he joined her. 'The tea might be too strong for you.'

  'It's fine,' he said, filling a mug. He grabbed three sandwiches and turned to leave.

  'Couldn't we at least have lunch together?' Peggy asked. 'I hardly ever see you these days.'

  He hesitated and then came to sit down. 'Sorry, but there's a lot involved in setting up a business.'

  'So you've definitely decided to stay in Ireland,' she said, trying to keep her voice light and conversational.

  'It's early days.'

  'And if you did, would you sell the business in Spain?'

  He frowned. 'I'd prefer not to, but Ireland is an expensive place so I may have no choice.'

  Peggy stiffened. 'Could you not just get a loan?'

  'Banks aren't very keen on lending money to someone who doesn't have a financial history in the country.'

  'But surely your bank in Spain could vouch for you,' Peggy pressed.

  'It's not that simple, Mother.' He shoved the last piece of sandwich into his mouth and stood up. 'Got to get back to work, thanks for lunch.'

  'You're welcome.' Peggy watched him walk away and wished she didn't feel so suspicious. She needed more information, she decided, and as soon as he went out again she would be back in that bedroom. She needed to know whether she could trust him. More importantly, she needed to know if he really deserved to know his son.

  Chapter 33

  The mystery of Sam's rash was cleared up the following week when Paula arrived for babysitting and went pale when Dee told her what had happened.

  'Oh, God, Dee, I'm sorry, I think it was my fault.'

  'But you don't have any pets, Paula.'

  'No, but I was visiting my friend and she had just bought this new puppy. He curled up on my jacket and went asleep and though I brushed it when I get home, there could have been some hairs still on it. I am so sorry.'

  Dee smiled and patted the young girl's shoulder. 'Don't worry about it, Paula, it's impossible to protect him from everything. I'm glad that the mystery has been cleared up, though, I hadn't a clue what it was that had triggered the rash and that's much more frustrating.' Dee pulled on her jacket and looked around for her handbag. 'I'm only going to the pub for a quick drink, Paula, so I shouldn't be long.'

  'No problem.' Paula grinned. 'Is Conor taking you?'

  'No, he isn't,' Dee said briefly. 'I'm going out with the girls.'

  'Have a nice time, then.'

  After Dee had run upstairs to say goodnight to her son, she let herself out of the front door and began the short walk to the pub. She wished Paula hadn't mentioned Conor as it had reminded her of exactly how miserable she was. It seemed, like Lisa, she had been dumped. When Conor hadn't returned her text after their night together, Dee had finally got up the courage to call him that night but he had been distant and after a few minutes of stilted conversation, Dee had made her excuses and hung up. He hadn't asked to see her again or made any comment about the previous night and she was completely confused and very frustrated. Now, almost a week later, he still hadn't been in touch and Dee realized he must have regretted their night together after all.

  When she walked into the pub, Lisa and Lauren were already there, a bottle of white wine and three glasses in front of them.

  'What's up?' Lauren asked, pouring her a glass. 'You look miserable.'

  'It's Conor,' Lisa told her.

  Dee shot her a warning look. 'We're not going to talk about boyfriends, now, are we, Lisa?'

  Lisa smiled apologetically. 'No, we're here to talk about Dee Hewson Inc.'

  'Yes, tell me more,' Lauren said, leaning forward.

  'It's probably not an option,' Dee started. She had given a lot of thought to Lisa's idea and the more she thought, the more anxious she got.

  'Oh, don't be so bloody defeatist,' Lisa told her and then, turning to Lauren, filled her in on her idea. 'I thought with your marketing experience, you might be able to help,' she said when she'd finished.

  'Well?' Dee looked at Lauren expectantly.

  'I think it's a great idea,' Lauren said enthusiastically.

  'But it would cost a fortune to get it off the ground, wouldn't it?'

  Lauren shrugged. 'It's been a while since I worked on a project like this so I'm not sure how much the costs have increased but I can easily find out. Your USP, of course, would be the fact that you're marketing fresh, home-cooked food.'

  'USP?' Dee looked at her.

  'Unique Selling Point,' Lisa said with a grin, 'even I know that.'

  'The fact that you are now a minor celebrity certainly helps and will open doors with both the banks and the supermarkets. I like Lisa's idea about this being a cottage industry type of operation. It will keep the costs down and convince people that this really is about homemade food. I also think you should go for very simple, natural packaging.'

  'We'd need advice on all of that,' Dee told her, 'I don't know the first thing about what type of packaging is necessary to prolong shelf-life. And that's another problem. How do we decide on things like "best before dates"?'

  'There will be guidelines from the government departments for that sort of thing,' Lauren assured her confidently. 'There's a lot of help out there for new businesses, you just have to know where to look.'

  'And I don't.' Dee looked glum.

  Lauren winked. 'But I do.'

  'But you have the twins to mind, how can you possibly help?'

  'It will be a welcome break,' Lauren assured her, 'my brain is beginning to seize up and the twins have two grannies and three aunties queuing up to mind them.'

  'And you really think it's a good idea?' Dee asked, beginning to feel excited.

  Lauren's eyes sparkled. 'I think it's a bloody great idea!'

  'So where do we start?' Lisa asked.

  'Hang on a minute,' Dee put up a hand, 'we need to agree on something before we go any further. If you two are going to help get this business up and running, you have to be a part of it. You should be my partners.'

  'No, that wouldn't be fair,' Lisa said. 'You're the one who'll be doing all the real work.'

  'But I'm not going to let you help me for nothing,' Dee said.

  'You can hire me as a consultant,' Lauren told her. 'I could do with the extra money and it would be a nice way to wean me back into life as a business woman.'

  'That would be fine, except I don't know exactly what I need you to do,' Dee admitted.

  Lauren laughed. 'Why don't I put together a proposal and an estimate and we'll take it from there?'

  Lisa's eyes widened. 'Ooh, you'll be sorry you mentioned money, Dee!'

  Dee shook her head. 'No, I'd prefer to do this on a proper business footing from the start. I haven't a clue how to go about any of this and I'd hate to have to depend on a stranger to help me.'

  'Well I'll be the lackey and you just tell me what to do,' Lisa told her. 'And you can pay me with food
. Now that Ger's gone I have no intention of wasting any of my time cooking ever again.'

  Dee laughed. 'That's a deal!'

  'What are you going to call it?' Lauren asked.

  'It has to incorporate her name,' Lisa said.

  Dee made a face but Lauren nodded her agreement. 'It would be madness not to, Dee.'

  'I suppose.'

  'Dee Hewson's Food,' Lisa suggested. 'Or just Dee's Delights?'

  'That sounds more like a naughty lingerie shop,' Lauren drawled.

  'Or a massage parlour,' Dee agreed.

  'How about Dee's Delicacies?' Lauren said.

  'Not bad,' Lisa admitted.

  'I quite like that,' Dee said.

  'Good, Dee's Delicacies it is for the moment.' Lisa held up the empty bottle. 'Can we have a drink to celebrate?'

  'I'll get them, it's the least I can do,' Dee said, standing up. 'Thanks, girls, I wouldn't ever dream of doing something like this without you.'

  Going to the bar, she ordered a bottle of champagne.

  'What's the occasion?' the barman asked curiously.

  'Life, Eamon, just life,' Dee said unwilling to reveal her plans just yet. If she told the barman it would be all around the town in no time.

  After some rummaging, he located a dusty ice bucket, filled it with ice and brought it, the champagne and three clean glasses to the table.

  'Champagne!' Lisa clapped her hands in delight.

  'What do you say, ladies, will I give it a shake?' Eamon gave them a lewd wink.

  'Only if you're going to pay for it,' Lauren retorted with a withering look.

  After he'd poured the champagne and left them, Dee raised her glass to her friends.

  'Thank you for your faith in me,' she said feeling slightly tearful.

  'To Dee's Delicacies,' Lisa said.

  'May it make the top one hundred companies list within five years!' Lauren joked, but there was a determined glint in her eye.