Did they know at the mill yet? If not, how was she going to tell them without incriminating herself? They were bound to find out from the newspapers. Would she be mentioned as being at his house almost a day before he took his life?
Dark thoughts crowded in on her. Sleep was never going to come, and the way she felt she would never sleep easy again.
If she had only talked it over with Dermot, or her da, perhaps her conscience would be easier. It was too late now. Dermot might think she had only mentioned it out of guilt, and he would be right. Indecision swam around in her brain like tadpoles, and her eyes stung from lack of sleep until she eventually got up.
She threw back the eiderdown and blankets and slipped her feet into her slippers. Wrapping her dressing gown around her shaking body, she opened her door as quietly as she could. Mary was a light sleeper, and she didn’t want to disturb her. Miss Brady was still away, so she crept along the landing and down the stairs.
In the kitchen, sobs choked her as she sat warming her hands on a mug of hot milk. How could she face them at the mill? She had been looking forward to working her notice and returning to Dublin, but now it would look like she was running away. The excitement of finding her brother had now been replaced with feelings of fear, guilt and frustration. Even worse was the fear of losing Dermot once the news broke. All she wanted to do was hide away from the world.
The milk hadn’t helped, and back in her room she felt as wide-awake as before.
* * *
At seven thirty, Aileen heard Mary go to the bathroom and then descend the stairs, but she didn’t move. At eight o’clock, she forced herself to get up and pull on some clothes. She wasn’t sure how Mary might react this morning after sleeping on their discussion the previous night. She had so looked forward to seeing her landlady's face once she told her she had found her twin brother; now she felt a mess. Her life was in tatters and she couldn’t rid herself of the black cloud now hanging over her. What this could do to Mary’s business she hadn’t begun to contemplate.
‘Oh, you’re up then?’ Mary turned round as Aileen entered the kitchen. Aileen could hardly blame her for being annoyed.
‘I can’t apologise enough,’ she said. ‘Everything’s a mess. I don’t blame you if…’
Mary stood up and faced her, her back pressed against the worktop. ‘Oh, give over, will yea? It’s not your fault that the silly beggar decided to hang himself.’ She sighed. ‘What are yea goona do?’
‘I don’t know. I can’t face work today. Look at me? I’ve not slept, and I look like something the cat dragged in.’
Mary sighed. ‘I didn’t sleep myself. I heard yea goo down in the night.’ She turned back to the stove. ‘This is a fine how-do-you-do, and I don’t know how best to advise yea.’
Aileen sat down and leant back in the chair. How could befriending someone have led to this? She had let everyone down, and there was no way she could change things. ‘I’ll go in this afternoon and tell them everything.’
Mary shook her head. ‘No, I wouldn’t do that.’ She filled a mug with tea and brought it to the table.
Aileen sat upright. ‘Why not? Everyone will know sooner or later.’
‘You don’t know that, Aileen. Does this Val know Roy was taking you to the airport?’
She shook her head.
‘Well then, say nought!’
‘But what if it’s in the newspaper?’
‘Yea, well if it is, it doesn’t mean your name will get mentioned. If it does, you’ll have to tell the truth.’ She stood up and went into the hall. ‘I’m away to the shop. Freshen yourself up, and I’ll bring back a morning paper.’
* * *
That afternoon, Val seemed pleased when Aileen walked into the office, but Aileen could only muster up a watery smile. ‘Didn’t you have a good Christmas? You look proper poorly, I guess you’re not over the journey yet.’
‘I’m grand. I had a wonderful Christmas. How about you?’
Val flashed her hand across the desk. ‘We got engaged.’
‘Oh, that’s wonderful. Congratulations. When is the big day?’
‘In eighteen months’ time, I guess. It’ll give us time to save for a place of our own. How was your da?’
‘He was wonderful, thanks.’ Aileen smiled. ‘And the best thing is, we’ve found my twin brother.’ She went on excitedly, ‘I haven’t met him yet. I came back to give my notice and sort things out with Mary.’
‘Oh, you’re not leaving, are you?’
‘Things have changed at home, Val, and I want to go back. Besides, I’m missing Dermot, and I think he misses me, too.’ She smiled again, remembering how he had come to wave her off at the airport.
Val sighed. ‘Can’t blame you then. When are you going to tell Miss Grimshaw?’
They were both flicking through the stack of orders on the desk when the door opened, and Mr Bill walked in, his face grim. He cleared his throat and both women turned their heads towards him.
‘I’m sorry to be the bearer of sad news at the start of the New Year,’ he said. ‘Our rep, Roy Pickering, died over the Christmas holidays.’ He shook his head, his face grim.
Val’s eyes widened, and Aileen felt her heart thump in her chest.
‘Oh, that’s awful news,’ Val said. ‘What happened?’
‘We don’t have all the facts yet, but we are sending a wreath from the firm, and I’ve asked Miss Grimshaw to organise a message of condolence to his widowed mother.’ Shaking his head again, he left.
‘Good God!’ Val exclaimed. ‘How did that happen?’
Aileen, who was trying to stop herself from shaking, shook her head and forced herself to speak. ‘It’s… it’s such terrible news.’
‘When did you see him last, Aileen?’
She swallowed. ‘Before I went away, but I didn’t know he was ill.’
‘Nobody knew anything about Roy.’ Val leant her elbows on the desk. ‘I always thought he was weird, but you liked him, didn’t you?’
‘Yes, as a friend, that’s all.’ A terrible feeling gripped the pit of her stomach, and she excused herself and hurried to the toilet.
For the rest of the afternoon, when anyone spoke about Roy she acted shocked as if she’d heard the news for the first time. But her heart was heavy with sadness that his life had ended in that way.
Just before they finished for the day, Val asked, ‘Do you think we should go to his funeral?’
Aileen took a deep intake of breath before answering. ‘I, well, I don’t know, Val. We should leave that to Miss Grimshaw to decide.’
‘Aren’t you a bit curious to see his family?’
‘Not really!’ Aileen was determined to distract Val from talking about Roy. ‘You never told me how Peter came to pop the question.’
Val needed no encouragement, and she made Aileen smile as they walked together up the lane. But when they parted, Aileen felt the weight of guilt pressing down on her like a heavy blanket.
Chapter Forty-Six
There had been nothing about Roy’s suicide in the morning or evening newspapers. Even the obituary column carried nothing about him. Aileen began to relax, although it might be too soon for the police to release it to the press. She had dreaded going home to Mary, knowing what a mess she had made of things. The older woman had been supportive and kind to her since her arrival in Birmingham, and in return all she had brought was the police to her door.
Aileen’s plans of returning home for good would have to wait until all this was cleared up, and Roy Pickering had been laid to rest.
That evening, the two women sat in the lounge. Christmas songs played on the radio. Aileen was fidgety and restless; she couldn’t settle to do anything.
‘You know, you should take up knitting. It’s very relaxing,’ Mary said, stopping to count her stitches.
Aileen managed a weak smile. She had apologised to Mary so many times for the trouble she’d caused, and she was at odds to know what to do to make amends.
‘Look, love. This will all blow over in a few weeks, and yea can get on with your life. In the meantime, stop maulding and put the kettle on.’ She shook her head and carried on knitting. ‘And can yea cut a couple o’ slices of me Christmas cake?’
Aileen was glad to leave the room, as the clicking of Mary’s needles was giving her a headache. In the kitchen, she almost spooned sugar into the teapot and just caught herself in time.
She was desperate to tell Mary about her brother. But the fact that Mary hadn’t asked increased her reluctance to share the good news, in the light of what had happened. She took a couple of tablets to quieten her thumping head and checked the tray before bringing it in.
‘Pop it over here.’ Mary cleared a space on the table, gathering up the magazines and newspapers and placing them in the rack by the side of her chair. ‘I’ll pour, shall I? Yea haven’t tasted me cake yet, have yea?’Aileen shook her head.
‘Try and put him out of your head.’ Mary passed her a cup of tea. ‘You’ve done nothing wrong. Looking at yea, anyone would think you’d done a murder.’
Aileen let out a deep sigh.
Mary sat down with her drink. ‘Where’s the sugar?’
Aileen stood up. ‘Sorry.’
‘I’ll get it,’ Mary said, making for the kitchen. ‘If yea want owt doing, do it yourself,’ she mumbled. Aileen had grown fond of Mary; she had stood by her in all this, and she had to struggle to keep her emotions in check.
Over their tea and cake, Mary said, ‘With all that’s been goon on, I forgot to ask yea how yea got on in Dublin.’
‘Oh, Mary, it was grand. I couldn’t wait to get back to tell you about Da and my twin brother. But the joy I felt when I arrived at the airport, evaporated like sand through my fingers when I ended up in the police station. Dermot and Da want me to come home.’
‘Did you say twin brother?’ Mary sat forward eagerly, and Aileen related how she and her da had found her brother.
‘God Almighty, that’s grand news. So it is true, Jessie had another baby. Well, this calls for a celebration.’ Mary went to the cupboard and took out a half empty bottle of sherry and two glasses.
After a few sips, Aileen felt the tension in her body ease and she relaxed back into the armchair. Mary listened intently as Aileen related everything about her happy Christmas back in Dublin, and most importantly the discovery and the whereabouts of her brother.
‘Ah, sure isn’t that just grand news? Have yea seen ‘im yet?’
‘No. I was planning to return home, for good, like.’ She sniffed into her handkerchief. ‘I can hardly do that now.’
‘What do yea mean? Are yea goona let this business with Pickering ruin the rest of your life?’
Aileen sipped the rest of her drink and popped the last piece of cake into her mouth. ‘I should have given my notice today, but when the news of Roy’s death broke, I lost my nerve.’ She lowered her head. ‘I guess I feel partly responsible.’
Mary poured another glass of sherry and then she pointed her finger at Aileen. ‘Now you listen to me, I–’ The telephone rang out, stopping her in her tracks. She frowned. ‘I’d better answer that.’ She eased herself out of her chair and went out into the hall.
Aileen went as far as the door, hoping with all her heart that it wasn’t the police. Dermot often phoned her late at night, and she would love to speak to him before she went to bed.
‘Bead, lovely to hear from you,’ Mary said. ‘Yea, she got back safe. She’s here with me now. Do you want a word with ‘er?’ Mary turned around and nodded to Aileen. ‘Your Aunt Bead.’
Aileen took a deep breath before taking the phone.
‘Hello, Aunt Bead. How are you? You heard then? Yes, it’s wonderful. I know. I know. Yes. I’ll be back home as soon as I can. I can’t wait to meet my brother.’
Smiling, Mary left Aileen to chat. ‘I’m away to me bed,’ she whispered, and Aileen nodded.
‘What’s that, Aunt Bead? She’s definitely emigrating then? Does Da know? Really! Oh, thanks for phoning, that’s grand news.’
She felt better. Her chat with Bead had stopped her dwelling on Roy’s death. So Lizzy was going to live in America? Where Aileen was concerned, it couldn’t be far enough away.
Chapter Forty-Seven
For the remainder of that week, the topic of conversation at the mill was Roy. Miss Grimshaw said she was flabbergasted to hear that he’d had a mental disorder. ‘How did that go unnoticed?’ she repeated several times. Val said it was obvious he had problems, but Miss Grimshaw said he had hidden it very well.
‘Did you notice anything strange about him, Aileen?’ the older woman asked.
Aileen sucked in her breath. ‘Not at first. He could be moody; unpredictable, I’d say.’ She was relieved to answer without the words choking in her throat.
‘Anyway, the poor man’s dead. Mr Bill and I will represent the firm at his funeral.’ Sighing, Miss Grimshaw went back up to her office.
‘I wonder what they’ll do now without a rep,’ Val said, placing her elbows on the desk and linking her fingers.
‘There’ll be no shortage of applications,’ Aileen said.
‘Orders are down already.’ Val picked up a few from the pile and handed them to Aileen, and the rest of the day passed without much incident.
Roy’s death was recorded in the newspaper as another suicide statistic. It only got a small notice in the newspaper, and if you weren’t looking you wouldn’t find it. Aileen felt an overwhelming sense of relief that her name wasn’t mentioned. Only Mary and herself, and Roy’s mother knew that she had been to his home days before he killed himself. That’s how she hoped it would stay.
As soon as the funeral had taken place, she planned to give notice. She was longing to get back to Dublin and explain everything to Dermot and pray he would forgive her. She couldn’t put back the clock, and what had happened to Roy would always be a sad reminder of her time in Birmingham.
* * *
A week after the funeral, Alan surprised both Aileen and Val when he walked into the office dressed in a smart suit and tie. ‘Say hello to your new rep,’ he chortled.
Val’s mouth dropped, and Aileen glanced up. ‘You’ve got Roy’s job?’
‘Not yet. I’m applying for it. How do I look?’
Aileen and Val exchanged glances just as the door to Mr Bill’s office opened, and Alan was called inside.
‘What do you make of that?’ Val said. ‘Who’s going to take the orders? We’re not taking them in here. We have enough to do.’
Aileen sighed and carried on typing. ‘Sure, if he gets it, someone else will fill his job.’
‘Yes, I know,’ Val said. ‘But that could take ages.'
Aileen wanted to mention that she was leaving, but thought it best to wait until Monday after she had told Miss Grimshaw.
On Friday, after work, she arrived back at the lodging house to find a letter from her father. Her excitement mounting, she opened it.
Dearest Aileen,
I know it’s only been a couple of weeks since you went back to Birmingham, and I wondered if you had thought any more about coming home. I don’t want to put pressure on you in any way; perhaps you’ve decided to stay after all, and that’s fine. I was thinking of employing someone full time as the shop is quite busy, and I’m run off my feet.
If you were planning on coming home, I’d keep the job for you; that’s if you want it. You might have other plans.
Whatever you decide to do, can you let me know? I hope everything is well with you and Mary. If you feel that your life is in Birmingham, I’ll come over for a visit in the summer months once I’ve got someone established here to look after things.
All the best
Your loving father,
Jonny Maguire.
She folded the letter, not sure whether to laugh or cry. If only he knew how much she wanted to come home, help him in the shop, and be part of his life. She put the letter in the pocket of her dress and sat down on her bed.
She would have been on her way home if it hadn’t been for the tragedy that had met her on her return.
She wanted to tell her da, but not in a letter. Then there was Dermot. How could she expect him to understand? Once she told him about Roy, things might never be the same between them. There was only one way to find out. It was the time to end all secrets and come clean. However, if Dermot let her go, it would break her heart.
That night Aileen had a long talk with Mary.
‘Sure, I’ll miss yea, so I will, but I think it’s for the best. You don’t want to lose that young man of yours.’
Aileen shifted her gaze. ‘I don’t, but he knows nothing about Roy Pickering.’
‘You’ve done nothing wrong, Aileen; perhaps just been a little naïve.’ Mary looked at her with raised eyebrows. ‘Sure, I was young meself once and know how it feels to be lonely.’ She sighed. ‘It’s my guess you never wanted to come away in the first place. So there’s nothing to stop you giving notice at the mill and goon back ‘ome now, is there?’
‘You’re right. Thanks, Mary. I could stay until you get a new lodger?’
‘Not at all. I’ll soon fill that room. Sure, I’ll be packing up in a few years. Me sister and me are going to retire to Rhyl. We’ve planned it a while back, so yea needn’t go worrying about me.’
‘Sounds nice.’ Aileen reached for her bag. She always paid her board on Friday night, and she still owed Mary for the flight on Christmas Eve. ‘I’ll pay you back the rest of what I owe you next week.’
‘Sure, yea can send it over when yea get home.’ Mary stuffed the notes into her apron pocket. ‘Don’t forget, yea’ve another flight to buy.’
‘That would be really helpful.’ Aileen had been planning on taking the ferry, but at this time of year the sea could be rough. She just might be able to buy a cheap ticket with Aer Lingus.
Mary got to her feet. ‘Well, I’d better get back to me ironing.’
Dublin's Fair City Page 23