Where There's A Will

by Mary Malone

  “Strong coffee required before I delve into this,” she said aloud, hitting the power button on the radio as she passed it. Background music – that would help hopefully. She couldn’t believe how jittery she felt, unable to decide if the tremors inside her were as a result of fear, apprehension or ridiculous excitement at the thought of seeing a few familiar faces.

  At last, half a cup of strong coffee inside her, as well as the six biscuits she’d munched on without thinking, she set about creating her new profile, struck by the irony of ‘Someone That I Used To Know’ playing on the radio, lyrics poignant in the circumstances.

  Inebriated by the freedom of ‘being somebody else’ she pulled a name from the top of her head and typed it in. Mia Zepo, she entered, smiling as it appeared on screen. Mia – a cute, short, three-letter name. So much better than being lumbered with a lengthy, stuffy-sounding name like Charlotte. To be doubly sure, she put the name into a Google search engine and was relieved to find no one with that name. Good, she thought, I can’t be accused of impersonation.

  Choosing a predominantly Canadian profile, she enjoyed creating this new persona.

  Hometown – Montreal, she decided. Taking a train up there one weekend, she’d been intrigued by its old-fashioned atmosphere with its cobblestone streets and adorably quaint shops, the beauty of Notre Dame Basilica along with the art galleries forever etched in her memory. Yes, she thought, Mia from Montreal.

  Birthday – this she decided in an instant. It would definitely be summer. Having a Christmas birthday was an entire pain. Parties were non-existent and presents were generally wrapped into one with her Christmas gift.

  This is fun, she thought, carried along with the freedom of reinvention.

  About You – this one required a little more thought and she decided to skip it for now. She’d find out a little more about ‘herself’ first as she continued through the profile questions.

  Sex – female, she typed in, deciding that no matter how confusing things were, she wasn’t interested in a gender transformation just yet. She’d prefer to be a woman who could kick ass!

  Relationship – without thinking she entered ‘married’ into this slot. It’d be nice to try it for a while, even as an alter ego.

  Activities – another category she completed with little contemplation. Tennis, skiing, snowboarding and travelling. Skiing and snowboarding she had never attempted, but she could vouch for her love of tennis and travelling and experiencing new places was something that she only wished she could have more time to enjoy. Then again, what was stopping her? As she scrolled back to the About You question, she wondered about the vastness of Canada and all the places she’d promised herself she’d visit and hadn’t. It’s not too late yet, she decided.

  Carefree and home-loving, she typed into the blank field. Domestic goddess loves to entertain family and friends – all welcome to sample my exquisite home-cooked dishes.

  Charlotte smiled at Mia’s profile. Domestic goddess couldn’t have been further from the truth. She didn’t even venture as far as adding water to a packet mix! Home baking where Charlotte was concerned consisted of a trip to the local delicatessen or cake shop. But Mia was of a different variety. Mia had talents of her own. She ignored the flashing icon requesting a profile picture. That would remain blank. A faceless persona – perfect to pursue Philip Lord.

  Philip Lord had exploded into her life when he’d taken over as Branch Manager in the bank she’d worked for on South Mall, Cork. Recognising her potential and encouraging her to strive toward increased responsibility, on a professional level he’d been enormously influential in her life. Her career had lifted to great heights and, with his encouragement and support, she’d met increasing success every step of the way, evolving from one of the lowest paid clerks to a position equalling that of Assistant Manager. An astute Philip had deftly organised every competition and hurdle she’d jumped.

  But with elation came one very prominent downside. The physical attraction was one-sided. And despite Philip’s handsome good looks, his toned physique and easy charm, Charlotte despised him. The way he stood too close made her skin crawl but she hid it well. She’d looked forward to the day they’d take separate paths in the banking world, but greed made her hold out for the final few steps on the promotion ladder, a decision she’d had plenty of time to regret. Progressing to managerial if not directorship level was her ultimate ambition, her interest in anything else secondary while she was on the road to accomplishment.

  Pouring a glass of her favourite white wine, she wondered about her nemesis. Unusual names were easier to find – less of them. Charlotte had barely brought her drink to her lips when Philip’s face appeared on her screen, his sleazy grin exactly as she remembered. Clicking on his photograph, she held her breath while his profile appeared on screen.

  She pulled the laptop on to her knees, filled with a mixture of intrigue and disgust as she read through his personal details. His single status wasn’t surprising. His wife had obviously seen the light and left him to his own devices.

  She clicked to view his photographs, disappointed when access was denied. He only shared with people he was connected to on Facebook. Damn, she thought, clicking to add him as a friend. “Let’s see how long it will take Philip to befriend Mia!”

  Needing distraction, she scanned the material she’d printed in the library, content in the knowledge that few conditions applied to Polly and the terms she’d applied to her will. The date she’d signed it was a factor but other than that, she couldn’t see any major grounds for overturning her decision to leave it to Kieran, despite her specific set of terms and conditions.

  Polly’s ownership of the property wasn’t questionable, at least as far as Charlotte knew. Questioning her mental state appeared to be the only option applicable. Dad would have a fit if Mum and Beth even tried to go down that route, Charlotte thought, glancing at the clock.

  Then the phone rang. Definitely someone from home at this hour, she groaned.

  “Hi, Beth,” she said, sitting cross-legged on the couch.

  Beth began to tell her about the responses to her website and Charlotte’s thoughts drifted back to the question of the will.

  “So what do you think?”

  “Sorry, Beth, I didn’t catch that.”

  “Just wondering if you’d help me with a response to the enquiries?”

  “No problem. Forward them and I’ll look at them while we’re talking.”

  Opening the email account on her laptop, her Facebook page disappeared from view and her sister’s correspondence appeared in the Inbox.

  “Promising,” she said. “I like that one wanting to hire it for a birthday party. A marquee’s the solution there.”

  “You really think so?”

  “Look, read what it says –” Charlotte’s sentence caught in her throat as a pop-up message appeared on her screen. Unable to resist a peek, she changed between screens, gasping when she realised Philip Lord had accepted her request. Her body trembled, her mouth dried and her pulse raced at the base of her throat, Beth’s voice going unheard on the line.

  “Charlotte, are you listening to me? This is a long-distance call!”

  “Sorry, Beth, I’m distracted. What is it you were asking me?”

  Her sister repeated her questions and Charlotte responded as best she could, finding a logical solution to all apart from the financial issue. “Take part payment in advance if they’re willing to go ahead with the booking. Asking for 60% isn’t exorbitant in the current environment, getting the balance on the day of their event. That way, you won’t be out of pocket for very long and will have some compensation for cancellations.”

  “Are you still contemplating a visit home?” Beth ventured.

  Philip’s eyes bored into Charlotte’s – even if it was from a 15-inch screen – bringing a flood of distressing reminders, particularly those of their last meeting and the evil threats being bandied about the boardroom.

  “I’ll hav
e to check if I can get time off,” she improvised, “but I’ll let you know. And in the meantime I’ll help in whatever way I can from here.”

  “Okay, thanks. One last thing, Mum’s been on to Seth about the will.”

  “Seth! How is he?” she asked. She hadn’t been expecting Slimy Seth (as she’d nick-named him years before) to be dragged into this. A clever move on her mother’s part but not good for Kieran, she knew. Her uncle’s incredible ability to turn even the most difficult situation to his advantage could seriously endanger Kieran’s right to sign on the dotted line.

  She’d have to intervene, offer to mediate with Seth if there was any chance of her keeping a step ahead and cutting him off before he had the opportunity to do serious damage. God damn it, this was turning into a complicated charade, one she mightn’t be able to manipulate quite as easily as she’d first believed, particularly with her devious uncle involved.

  “He was full of bright ideas for Mum, although I can’t say I like the sound of them, Lottie, to be honest.”

  “Really?” She glanced at the time. “Will I call you back, Beth? That way we can share the cost of this conversation.”

  “Please,” Beth agreed and disconnected.

  Unable to resist the temptation to check Philip’s page before returning the call, Charlotte was instantly engrossed. He’s still in banking, she thought, although not where we worked. Typically, his friends were mostly female. Her eyes opened wide when she recognised a few familiar names. “Damn him!” she said. Mud hadn’t stuck for very long. With a sinking heart, she logged out of Mia’s account, unable to put herself through any more home truths. He had come out unscathed while she had to recreate a version of herself in a brand-new country.

  Draining her wineglass, she went to get a refill, standing at the window and staring at the twinkling Toronto lights, her fingers undoing the button of her pyjamas and tracing the jagged scar on her chest, tears falling on her cheeks.

  “Oh shit,” she said after a few minutes, running her sleeve across her cheeks.

  She had almost forgotten Beth.

  “About time too,” was Beth’s greeting when she answered on the first ring.

  Instead of inventing an excuse, Charlotte picked up their conversation where they’d left it. “So, what exactly has Seth got in mind?”

  Listening to an account of her uncle’s proposal, she closed her eyes in dread. How the hell am I going to intercept a geriatrician’s report? Would it be enough to relay her knowledge of the bogus report to the solicitor? She jotted down as many details as possible, her gaze straying to the laptop, longing to slide into Mia’s life in place of her own. Looking around the pristine apartment, she tried to imagine a different lifestyle, one filled with fun and love, a family unit – like the one described by the librarian. What would it feel like? Closing her eyes she tried to imagine trading places with Mia, swapping one life for another, obliterating all else and easing into a world of nappy changes, play dates and school runs. If only it were that easy. If only.

  “Has Mum said any more about it to Dad?”

  “They’re barely speaking. He doesn’t want to know apparently.”

  “I’ll give Seth a call for an update.” The lightness in her tone belied the heaviness in her heart.

  “And you’ll forward a few sample responses to those emails I sent you too?”

  “I’ll do it straight away,” Charlotte promised, then asked her sister for her uncle’s number, hoping a call would lift the feelings of desperation that had settled over her.

  She rang him straight away.

  “Uncle Seth! Charlotte here,” she said, feigning a sweetness to the old codger even though she didn’t trust a word that came out of his mouth.

  “Dear God, girl, aren’t you on the other side of the Atlantic?”

  She met his sarcasm head on. “Sure am but we have phones over here too.”

  “And you only thought to use it now!”

  He’s no fool, she thought, picking her words carefully and enquiring about his health and golf handicap in that order.

  “Not on the course as much as I’d like these days. And you? Taking Toronto by storm, I’m sure?”

  She laughed, genuine this time. “Making my stamp in a very small pond.”

  “Want to tell me why you called?”

  “Mum’s been hankering on about this will business. She said you’re in the driving seat on our behalf.”

  “Setting a few things in motion. The objection has already been lodged. Waiting for a response.”

  “Using what grounds?”

  “Sharp as ever, my young niece!”

  Charlotte was impatient. “Sharper,” she retorted, reminding herself to mask her eagerness to find out what was going on.

  “Polly’s sanity is the easiest route but to safeguard I’ve planted a few seeds of doubt for the solicitor in relation to ownership too. Distract her while my acquaintances work on the medical records.”

  She took a sharp intake of breath. He was devious. “But surely full ownership reverted to her when her husband drowned?”

  “The body never turned up, conveniently making things a little more complex.”

  Charlotte gulped, feeling an unfamiliar rush of sympathy for her aunt, imagining her heartache as she’d waited all those years. “I’d forgotten that,” she admitted. “It must have been a dreadful time for her.”

  “She survived! And her life turned out okay afterwards.” Seth’s tone was mysterious.

  She could hear another phone ringing in the background. “I’ll let you get that,” she offered, glad of the excuse to break off. She had more than enough to think about.

  Chapter 21

  Jess’s phone rang, the sound of the vacuum-cleaner drowning out the ring tone as she hurried through her cleaning routine to try and get it all done before collecting Greg from school. She moved from room to room in Number 4, letting the cleaner do its work sucking up dust and crumbs, bits of food that Greg dropped as he moved around the house with a lopsided plate in his hand, and so much sand that she wondered if there was any left on the beach. While she was humming a tune and remembering Greg’s excitement the previous day, the ringing phone remained unheard.

  She dragged the vacuum upstairs to clean her bedroom, Greg’s room and the bathroom floor. She wouldn’t bother with the other room – it wasn’t as if it was ever used any more. Even Greg avoided it. Only the day before, when he’d returned from his trip to the beach with Kieran, running around the house with his arms stretched wide either side as he pretended to be the kite Kieran had promised to buy him, he still avoided that room, despite it being larger with plenty of ‘flying space’.

  She smiled as she watched the sand being swallowed into the vacuum cleaner. He’d had such fun with Kieran the previous afternoon, his eyes bright with excitement when they’d returned. He’d babbled on and on while she’d bathed him, his voice rising as he told her about the massive tunnel Kieran had helped him dig.

  “I swear, Mum, Kieran thinks it could almost go down to Australia!”

  “Koala bears and kangaroos will be burrowing through it in the morning then?”

  “Don’t be silly! We’re not finished digging yet.”

  She moved from room to room, remembering how he’d run around the house, full of beans as though it were first thing in the morning and not nine o’clock on a school night!

  But Greg’s good humour had disappeared overnight. He’d been stubborn and difficult when she’d called him for breakfast, arguing and doing his utmost to skip school. Tired and irritable, he’d fought with her from the moment he’d opened his eyes.

  Her thoughts turned to Kieran. She already found it impossible to ignore the excitement she felt around him. His presence made her forget about everything that had come before. Her heart soared every time he was in close proximity. Loath as she was to admit it, she was well aware that the feelings erupting inside her resembled those of a love-sick teenager.

  Jess kne
w she was a poor substitute for a real daddy figure, had been from the time he’d reached toddler age. He was a typical boy, loving dirt and mess, seeing an adventure in every game and loving being outdoors. It frustrated him when she wouldn’t allow him to explore things further – particularly when it came to worms and wriggly insects and how many he could poke out of the ground. He complained strongly when she pulled him away. No matter how hard she tried to fill that particular void in his life and be macho about things she detested, she failed miserably.

  He craved male company – no doubt of that in her mind. She had seen enough evidence in the short time since Kieran had come knocking on their door. The dynamic between her and her son had changed. Oh, she knew he still adored her. She would always be his number one – that wasn’t concerning her. But he’d found another adult, one who understood his maleness, appreciated the rough and tumble boys thrived upon. All to the better where little Greg was concerned. And Jess couldn’t deny she agreed. But would it last? Would Kieran stick around?

  She changed the attachment on the vacuum cleaner and set about getting into the difficult-to-reach places, wondering how on earth spiders managed to create so many cobwebs between her cleaning stints. She hated cleaning, hated the monotony of doing the same thing over and over and seeing very little reward – at least not once Greg returned from school and undid her hard work.

  As she stooped to retrieve one of Greg’s many dinosaurs from the bedroom floor, she accepted with a pang of remorse that dinosaurs of the plastic variety would be the nearest she got to uncovering history for quite some time. Looking at the grumpy face of Tyrannosaurus Rex, she couldn’t help grinning. It reminded her of the scowl on her son’s face as they had approached the school gates but, no matter how much she loved him, there were days she’d have given anything to be on an archaeological dig, exploring the present for evidence of the past, spending endless hours searching and trawling through earth, researching every aspect until she’d uncovered its place in history. Delving into the world of archaeology had instilled a permanent sense of anticipation, anxiety about the ruins to be uncovered yet a heart-thumping excitement at the treasures waiting to be explored.