Set in Stone

by Catherine Dunne

  ‘Jesus, Lynda, it’ll take you hours.’ Robert sounded alarmed.

  ‘I don’t care. Katie and I will share the driving. You just keep Ciarán safe. I have to do this, Robert. I don’t have a choice.’

  He sighed. ‘Keep in touch, then. Constantly. And stay over in Waterford tonight. You hear? You’re not to be driving through the night.’

  ‘Of course we’ll keep in touch,’ said Lynda. ‘You take care.’ She hung up and turned to Katie. ‘Where’s your laptop?’

  ‘In my bedroom. Why?’

  ‘Come on. We need to look up the phone directory. As many Sweetmans in Waterford as we can find.’

  ‘There’s just the one,’ Katie said. ‘Here – look.’

  Lynda peered over her daughter’s shoulder. ‘Maybe there are others, ex-directory.’

  ‘Maybe,’ agreed Katie. ‘But let’s try this one first. At least it’s a start.’

  Lynda rested her index finger on the screen. ‘Jack and . . . is that Martina?’

  ‘Yeah,’ said Katie. ‘Jack and Martina Sweetman, 49 Waterville Avenue. Wait, I’ll look it up on Google Earth.’

  Lynda watched as the map appeared on the screen. Katie zoomed in and pinpointed the street. ‘There it is.’

  ‘Can you print that?’ Lynda asked.

  ‘Sure.’

  The printer whirred and spat out an A4 page in colour. Lynda folded it and put it into her handbag. ‘Let’s go. While there’s still a bit of light.’

  ‘Don’t you want a shower? And a sandwich?’ Katie was startled.

  Lynda shook her head. ‘That was just to keep your dad from fretting. I’ll be fine.’

  ‘Okay, if you’re sure.’ Katie shrugged. ‘I’ll do the first bit of the drive. I can get us out of Galway faster than you can, anyway.’ She walked over to Lynda and hugged her. ‘It’ll be okay, Mum.’

  Lynda kissed her forehead. ‘I know it will. I’ve got you in my corner.’

  The street was deserted. One of the lamps flickered, casting strange shadows across the pavement.

  ‘This is it,’ said Katie. ‘Number 49.’

  Lynda turned off the ignition. ‘Great navigating,’ she said. ‘Right. You ready?’

  ‘Yeah,’ said Katie. ‘But if there is anything that makes me uncomfortable, we’re outta there, okay?’

  ‘Absolutely,’ agreed Lynda. ‘I’m not feeling one bit brave.’

  Lynda locked the car and they both made their way up the short garden path. She knocked at the door. Lynda saw that the outside of the house was cared for, the garden neat, if still a bit bedraggled by winter. There were some cautious daffodils just under the living-room window. Curtains were drawn and things looked cosy. That was always a good sign. Katie stood close to her on the step. They waited, but there was no answer. Lynda began to feel the slow seep of disappointment.

  ‘Let’s just hang around for a while, Mum,’ Katie said. ‘They could be anywhere. On the phone – in the bathroom. Let’s give it another minute or two.’ And she pressed her finger to the bell. They could hear it ringing, shrill and insistent. And then it stuck.

  ‘I’m coming, I’m coming,’ said an irritable voice, making its way down the hall. The door was wrenched open and an angry woman stood just inside it. She was dishevelled, her hair in disarray.

  ‘It’s stuck,’ said Katie at once. ‘We’re very sorry, but we can’t get it to stop.’

  ‘Just a minute,’ said the woman, and disappeared down the hallway. She returned with a knife, and prised the bell-push from its housing. The noise stopped at once. ‘Thank God for that,’ the woman said, with a half-smile. ‘Now how can I help you? I’m not buying anything, so if that saves you time—’

  ‘And we’re not selling,’ said Lynda, quickly. ‘We’d just like to talk to you for a few minutes.’

  Her face looked wary. ‘What about?’

  ‘About a twenty-one-year-old man, who is in a lot of trouble.’

  The woman’s face clouded over. ‘What’s that got to do with me?’

  Lynda opened her bag. She pulled out the photograph of Jon and Ciarán that neither had known she was taking; the one where they stood together in the garden, talking, smoking. She’d intended to have it framed for each of them as a gift. Now, she handed it to the woman standing before her. There was silence for a moment or two.

  ‘Jesus,’ she said. ‘You’d better come in.’

  They followed her down the hall towards the kitchen.

  ‘Please,’ she said. ‘Sit down.’ She ran her hands through the tangles of her dark hair. ‘Excuse my appearance. I was just about to have a bath.’

  ‘I’m sorry for disturbing you. This won’t take long. I’m Lynda Graham, and this is my daughter, Katie. We’re looking for this boy, yes, but only because we want to understand what’s going on.’

  The woman held out her hand. ‘I’m Martina Sweetman. Everyone calls me Tina.’ She seemed about to say more and stopped.

  Lynda could see that she was making up her mind about something. She waited, searching the other woman’s face for clues. Who was she? She could see no resemblance to Jon at all. What if this had all been for nothing?

  ‘Where did you get that photograph?’ she asked, finally.

  ‘I took it,’ said Lynda. ‘That’s my son, Ciarán, with the dark hair. We know the other boy as Jon. They became great friends at UCD. We know nothing else about him, except what he’s told us. He said his parents were separated and he needed a place to stay, just for a while, to get his head sorted. We took him in.’

  ‘So – why are you looking for him?’

  Lynda hesitated. ‘It’s a long story.’

  The other woman shrugged. ‘You’re here. You obviously want to tell it. I can listen.’

  When Lynda had finished, Tina said: ‘I’ll put on the kettle. Would you like tea or coffee? Only instant left, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Instant’s fine,’ said Lynda.

  Katie nodded. ‘Yeah, grand.’

  ‘Sweetman is my husband’s name. Jack Sweetman.’ She nodded towards the adjoining room. ‘He’s in there with my three sons, watching football.’ There was a sudden roar from the room next door. Tina grinned. ‘See what I mean? Man U. More important than God in this house.’ She paused. ‘You found us through the telephone directory, I suppose? There aren’t too many of us.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Lynda.

  ‘And that’s how the boy you call Jon found us, too.’ Tina looked sad.

  Memories, thought Lynda. Tina’s expression had become distant, as though she had been taken away somewhere else.

  ‘What is his name, then?’ asked Katie.

  Tina looked at her, her face now unreadable. ‘By a very cruel twist of fate, his name is Daniel. Of all the names in the world, they called him Daniel. Daniel Morrissey.’

  Lynda didn’t understand, although something had begun to tingle at the base of her neck. It felt as though her throat was constricted. ‘Go on,’ she said. ‘Please just tell us.’

  ‘My maiden name is Munroe,’ she said. ‘I have one sister, whose name is Amy. We are incredibly close, always have been.’ Tina sipped at her coffee. ‘Sometime in 1988, my sister, who was nineteen at the time, fell hook, line and sinker for this absolute charmer that she met in a club. He was twenty-one at the time.’

  Lynda felt sick. She could feel where this was going.

  Tina looked at her. ‘It’s an old, old story,’ she said. ‘I loathed the guy, first time I clapped eyes on him. But Amy was very naive. She’d always been fragile, and I suppose a bit protected at home because of that.’

  Katie reached across and squeezed Lynda’s hand. ‘Mum, are you okay?’

  ‘I’m fine,’ she said. ‘Go on, Tina, please.’

  ‘You could write it yourself,’ Tina said, looking from her to Katie. ‘Amy leaves home, pretending she’s going to stay with a girl that she worked with. She and I had the most massive row, but there was no stopping her. She said I was jealous. That I didn’t want her t
o have somebody of her own.’ Tina looked down at her hands, hugging the cup of coffee. She shook her head. ‘Nothing could be further from the truth. But he was a dangerous man. I could smell it. In six months, it was all over. She got pregnant, he fucked off, end of story.’

  ‘And the child?’

  ‘Sorry,’ said Tina. ‘I must be accurate. She got pregnant and left him, before he knew about the baby. But he was going anyway. She was so terrified of him and so unhappy that she knew there was no way they could have the baby together. I admired her strength. It really surprised me.’ Tina looked at them. ‘I need a cigarette. I’m trying to stop, but in the circumstances . . .’ She reached into the cupboard behind her. ‘Anyway, Amy upped and left and came to me. To us, Jack and me. We’d moved from Dublin, so we were a safe distance from my parents. She didn’t want them to know.’

  ‘And the child?’ Lynda repeated, hardly trusting herself to speak.

  Tina nodded towards the photograph. ‘That’s him. That’s Daniel. I couldn’t believe it. That’s what his adoptive parents called him. Of all the names.’ She shook her head again.

  ‘And the father?’ asked Lynda, heart hammering.

  Tina looked surprised. ‘Oh, I thought that was why you were here. To track him down.’

  ‘In a way,’ Lynda admitted. ‘I just need you to confirm it.’

  ‘His name is Danny. Danny Graham. He’s the father.’

  Lynda exhaled. She felt as though she’d been holding her breath for years.

  ‘This guy is my cousin?’ blurted Katie. ‘What is going on here?’

  Lynda put one hand on Katie’s arm, the pressure asking her to hold on, just a little bit longer. She turned to Tina. ‘If he didn’t know that Amy was pregnant, then how did he know he had a son?’

  ‘He didn’t, until his son went looking for him. And his son came here first. Talk about a chip off the old block.’

  ‘I still don’t understand,’ said Lynda.

  ‘We had Daniel adopted when he was three weeks old. Jack and I used our surname, to put as much distance as possible between Amy and Danny. That was what she wanted. She wasn’t even able to hold the baby after he was born. She spent months afterwards being almost catatonic. It was a nightmare.’ Tina stood abruptly and filled the kettle again.

  ‘The baby went to an adoptive family in County Meath,’ she went on. ‘And that’s all I know about them. When the time came, they didn’t stop him looking for his biological parents, although it must have broken their hearts. And so, he came here first. He thought I was his mother.’

  ‘And did you tell him who was?’

  She nodded. ‘Eventually. The minute he stood on the step, I knew who he was. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. He intimidated me, I don’t mind telling you.’

  ‘And what about his father? How did he get to Danny?’

  ‘I promised to give him all the information I could about his father. As long as he left his mother alone. He promised he would – not that I’d put much store on that. He insisted on knowing everything.’

  Tina ground out her cigarette and almost immediately lit another. ‘I appealed to his better nature,’ she said, dryly, ‘said that his mother was very unwell. I told him Danny’s name, date of birth, everything I could, including the fact that he had gone to England. I presumed he was still there. He left, then, and I haven’t heard from him since.’

  ‘Well,’ said Lynda, ‘he found his father. Or they found each other.’ She rested her head in her hands, suddenly exhausted.

  ‘I’m sorry for you,’ said Tina. ‘Truly I am. I know how destructive Danny – the father – was. I can only assume that Jon, as you call him, is following in his footsteps. I’m not all that happy myself that either of them – both of them, now – know where I live.’

  ‘You’ve been very good to talk to us,’ said Lynda. ‘We really appreciate it.’

  ‘Not a problem,’ Tina said. ‘I’m curious – how did you trace him to me? I mean, how did you know what name to look for? Or did you know all along?’

  Lynda smiled sadly. ‘Well, as you now know, he left our house under something of a cloud. We had no way of finding him. But he’d told Katie his surname. They spoke on the phone one night, just before he moved in. I think he wanted us to find out who he was. It’s like some sort of a cruel game.’ Lynda stopped. ‘And my son is the pawn.’

  ‘Jesus,’ said Tina. She was silent for a moment. ‘If he’s anything like his father, then I don’t envy you.’

  Lynda nodded. ‘He’s done a lot of damage. And he’s still doing it. He and his father. An unholy alliance.’

  ‘I’m truly sorry,’ said Tina. ‘The two of them, the two Dannys together. Talk about a force of nature. They were peas in a pod. Couldn’t believe my eyes, the day young Danny – Jon – turned up here. It’s like my mother used to say. Set in stone.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Katie was curious.

  Tina shrugged. ‘My mother had this old-fashioned belief that badness was handed down, parent to child. If a mother or father was evil, then the child was likely to be evil as well.’

  ‘Evil,’ repeated Lynda. ‘It’s not the word I would have used.’

  ‘It exists,’ said Tina. ‘Whatever you call it.’

  ‘So you’ve no chance if one of your parents is bad?’ Katie’s voice was sceptical.

  ‘I’m not sure that that’s what she meant, in fairness,’ said Tina. ‘It wasn’t a blanket that covered everything. But she did believe the bad stuff was handed down; that nature was way more important than nurture.’

  Lynda stood and held out her hand to Tina. ‘Thank you again, Tina. Here’s my mobile number if you ever want to contact me. Feel free. You’ve been very kind.’

  ‘Not at all,’ said Tina. ‘To be honest, I feel pretty helpless.’

  ‘We all do,’ said Lynda. ‘But it’s some comfort to know what we’re dealing with.’

  ‘Jesus,’ said Katie as they drove away. ‘My own cousin.’

  Lynda nodded. ‘Yes. I’m not as surprised as I should be. I always felt Danny was behind this. What an awful thing to do, though. To corrupt your own child like that, make them part of your revenge.’ How had Danny done it, she wondered. Had Jon just been an innocent teenager, before his father got his hands on him? Or was there something, after all, in what Tina had said?

  Katie chimed in, echoing her train of thought. ‘It’s a very bleak view of life, what Tina says, though, isn’t it?’ She looked sideways at her mother. ‘You don’t believe in that stuff, do you, Mum? That kind of pre-destination?’

  Lynda concentrated on the road ahead. ‘Katie, I don’t know what I believe in any more, to tell you the truth. Apart from my family.’

  Neither of them said anything for a moment.

  ‘Are you and Dad okay?’ Katie’s question was sudden.

  ‘How do you mean?’ Lynda knew exactly what she meant, but the question had taken her aback.

  ‘I’m not a child. I wasn’t a child when it happened, either. Jesus, sometimes parents haven’t a clue what their kids see.’ Katie turned and stared out the passenger window. She was angry.

  ‘I made a mistake, Katie,’ said Lynda. As she spoke, Lynda knew that it was true. ‘Probably the worst mistake of my life. I had an affair and I regret it, bitterly. Even more when I realize how many people I hurt. I thought it was just me.’ She slowed down, moved into the inside lane.

  ‘I’m not judging you,’ said Katie. She still kept her face turned away from Lynda. ‘I just want to make sure that you and Dad are okay now.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Lynda. ‘Yes, we are.’ She risked a sidelong glance at her daughter. ‘Everything else is falling apart all around us. But strangely, we are okay, the two of us.’

  ‘Good,’ said Katie. ‘I’m glad to hear it.’ She turned back to look at her mother, her face full of emotion. ‘I knew all along, and I was really mad at you. But I understand more now how these things happen. Now that I’m older.’

&n
bsp; Lynda stifled a smile. Twenty-one. Such wisdom. She asked a cautious question. ‘Did Ciarán know?’

  Katie snorted. ‘You must be jokin’. Ciarán saw nothing but himself. He was always the same. Self-centred little shit.’

  Lynda was surprised at her vehemence. ‘Why do you say that?’

  ‘He got away with murder. You spoiled him.’ Katie’s tone was furious now. She glared at Lynda. ‘You picked up after him all the time – or had me do it. And I bet you’re still doing it. You sheltered him – both you and Dad, although I’ve no idea why. I used to think it was because he was the baby. Then I believed it was because he was the boy. I got used to being second fiddle.’

  Lynda felt as if she’d been slapped. ‘Katie – that’s just not true!’

  ‘It is! It is true! You just won’t see it!’ her voice cracked.

  Lynda indicated and pulled over onto the hard shoulder. She turned off the engine and pressed the hazard light switch. The blinking started at once. She turned to Katie, her eyes searching her daughter’s face. ‘Is that really what you believe?’

  ‘Yes!’ said Katie. ‘You took me for granted. You expected good marks and good behaviour from me, always. But Ciarán – you always made excuses for his shitty behaviour and let him away with way more than I was ever allowed.’ Tears had started. ‘And no matter what I did, I was always second best. Why do you think I couldn’t wait to get away from home and go to college in Galway?’

  Lynda’s head reeled. Second best. Danny’s cry, all his life. She took Katie’s hand. ‘I’m devastated to hear you say that,’ she said. ‘I can’t tell you how much we both love you, how proud we are of you. And how much I miss you.’

  Katie snatched her hand away, and wiped angrily at her tears. ‘Yeah, well, I never felt that. Ciarán always came first. He always took up so much room. I felt like there wasn’t enough . . . space . . . for me.’

  Lynda thought about that. She stroked Katie’s hair back from her forehead. ‘What you say is partly true. Bad behaviour always takes up more room than good, Katie. But he didn’t come first, not in the way you think.’ Lynda paused, trying to figure out the best way to say it. ‘He occupied a lot of our attention and we knew we could trust you. I’m sorry if that made you feel sidelined.’