‘Oh my God.’ Abbey was completely shocked. ‘I never imagined it was anything like that amount! No wonder the family have gone postal over it. He really did leave us most of his wealth.’
‘Exactly,’ said Ryan.
Abbey got out of the car. She couldn’t think of anything else to say.
Chapter 24
There was a lot of discussion in the Fitzpatrick cars as the various members of Fred’s family drove home. Deirdre and her daughters veered from being happy that they’d been left something to being insulted that it wasn’t enough, then anxious about how things would turn out if it all ended up in some kind of legal battle.
Donald was saying very little as he drove, but that was made up for by Zoey, who wanted to know as much as possible about the law regarding wills and inheritances and who broke off halfway through the conversation to phone her mother and share the news with her. Predictably, Lesley was hopping with rage and told her daughter that she hadn’t married Donald, had she, to be left to rot on the sidelines while someone else swooped in and took what was rightfully hers. Donald kept his eyes firmly on the road ahead of him, although he was able to guess at most of Lesley’s comments by his wife’s replies.
In Gareth’s car, Lisette was regretting once again that she hadn’t looked at the will the day she’d seen it on Fred’s table, because she knew she would’ve torn it up there and then and saved them all a lot of heartache. She would have done it in front of Fred and told him that he was being foolish, and she knew he would have listened to her because he always said that the French were very practical people. She was worried about the cost of taking legal action and how that might turn out. If they lost, they’d have spent even more money and not got anything in return. She couldn’t help thinking that the only way forward was to persuade Abbey Andersen that the acceptable thing to do was to return her share to the family, even if the nuns insisted on getting their hands on her mother’s half. After all, how could anyone seriously expect to be left such an enormous amount by a person they hadn’t even known existed up until a few weeks earlier? It wasn’t right. It couldn’t be.
Suzanne had declined the offer of a lift from Lisette and Gareth and was instead walking back towards her hotel. She too was mulling over the events of the day. She was trying to decide if she was delighted by what her father had left her, hurt by the knowledge that he’d given the boys money years ago while ignoring her, or even more hurt that this time he’d left the house to two complete strangers. On the one hand, being singled out for a large amount of cash while seeing the boys get a couple of old cars was vindicating. On the other, learning that she was in third place behind Abbey and her mother was another kick in the teeth.
You were such a fool, Dad, she thought, as she neared the harbour. You were a fool to get that woman pregnant fifty-odd years ago and a fool to suddenly feel guilty about it now.It was almost certain that Abbey Andersen and her mother had had a perfectly good life without any input from him. The fact that Ellen Connolly had ended up in a monastery was a bit freaky, but it was her choice to make. The daughter, Abbey, seemed nice enough, but realistically, how likely was it that she’d say no to an unexpected inheritance? Not bloody likely, in Suzanne’s view. Why should she? She had no earthly chance of making that kind of money from doing people’s nails, after all.
However, regardless of how things worked out, Suzanne had to admit that financially she herself was a lot better off than she’d been a couple of weeks ago. And that meant, for the first time in her life, that she should be grateful to her father, even if she couldn’t quite find it in herself to forgive him.
After saying goodbye to Ryan, Abbey went into the hotel and up to her room. She eased her feet out of her shoes, curled her legs beneath her on the bed and stared out of the window at the boats bobbing in the harbour. She was trying to get her head around the idea that after meeting her for less than five minutes, Fred Fitzpatrick had made his decision to leave her and her mother a house worth around two million dollars. Two million dollars, half of which was hers! Even after taxes, it was still a huge amount of money.
She closed her eyes and tried to think of herself as a millionaire. She didn’t succeed. Because, of course, she wasn’t that person. And if the Fitzpatrick family got their way, she never would be. But she was part of the Fitzpatrick family too, wasn’t she? Just because she hadn’t known about them before didn’t mean that they couldn’t get to know each other now. Maybe even get to like each other. And come to some kind of agreement about the will. Because she couldn’t simply walk away from owning a house worth two million dollars. With that sort of money she could … well, the first thing she could do was to stop worrying about where she was going to live. She could afford to rent an apartment way better than the one she’d shared with Cobey. Hell, she could buy an apartment of her own! She thought of Pete and how he’d light up when she told him. He’d be thrilled for her, she knew he would. So would Solí and Vanessa. Selina too. Thinking about other people’s reactions made her realise that it would be cool to be the one to be envied for a change, cool to be the one with great news. She was exhilarated by the feeling.
She opened her eyes again and wondered about her mom’s reaction. She was pretty sure the Fitzpatricks were right in thinking that it wouldn’t be up to Ellen alone to decide what to do about her inheritance, that the monastery’s prioress, Sister Inez, would be the one calling the shots. Perhaps Ellen would want to decline it but not have any choice in the matter. So it might come down to a court case after all, although she wondered how successful the family’s argument that Fred hadn’t been in his full senses might be. Perhaps they’d be able to roll out a doctor to say that he was suffering from some kind of mental illness. Anything was possible. How reasonable was it for someone who was in his full senses to leave a house to two people he didn’t know, even if one of them was the daughter he’d given away?
She massaged the back of her neck. Things were far more difficult than she’d ever expected when she’d agreed to come to Ireland and meet her unknown grandfather. She should’ve followed her initial instincts and said no. He would have been disappointed but it would surely have stopped him from making such a radical change to his will and prevented all this bitterness.
She would have to call Pete soon and tell him what had happened. He’d be able to give her a legal perspective on things. But although she took her phone out of her bag and scrolled to his name, she didn’t select it. She wasn’t ready to talk to him and to hear his advice, which she was certain would be to sit tight and fight for what she’d been left. Pete wouldn’t understand the uncomfortable feeling that told her that she wasn’t really entitled to anything at all. He would be all for getting the house, selling it and securing her future. And, she muttered aloud to herself, he would be utterly right.
She opened the email app and took a deep breath. Even though she didn’t want to talk to Pete, she had to set the wheels in motion to meet with her mother. She thought long and hard for a few minutes and then began composing a message to Sister Inez. In it she said that an urgent family matter meant she needed to meet with her mother as soon as possible. She didn’t give any more details, didn’t talk about Magdalene laundries or unknown relatives and inheritances.
She sent the message and put the phone back in her bag. Then she unfurled her legs and stretched her arms over her head. She couldn’t sit here thinking about things any longer. She needed to get out and clear her head.
She’d timed it badly, she thought, as she walked out of the hotel door and almost collided with Suzanne Fitzpatrick coming in. The two women looked awkwardly at each other for a moment.
‘Ah, the heiress,’ said Suzanne finally. ‘Where are you off to?’
‘A walk,’ replied Abbey. ‘I need to clear my head.’
‘I’m not surprised,’ said Suzanne. ‘I’m sure you have a lot of things to think about. All the same – would you like to join me for coffee in the village?’
Abbey
wasn’t sure if she could deal with being told again that she didn’t deserve what Fred had left her. But Suzanne didn’t seem aggressive, and there was a hint of sympathy in her eyes. So she said that she’d be delighted to have coffee with her.
The two of them walked towards the harbour and Suzanne stopped outside a small café with pavement tables.
‘Here?’ she asked.
‘Suits me,’ replied Abbey.
‘I’m sure you’re exhausted after the day you’ve had,’ Suzanne remarked after the flat whites they’d ordered arrived.
‘No more than you,’ said Abbey.
‘It was hard for you.’
‘Funerals are hard at the best of times.’
‘I don’t think there is a best of times for a funeral,’ said Suzanne.
‘No, you’re right. I’m sorry. You must be devastated at your loss.’
‘I wouldn’t exactly go that far,’ said Suzanne. ‘But there is a part of you that thinks your parents will last for ever. My dad was stubborn. I thought he’d hang on till he was a hundred.’
‘Didn’t you get on with him?’
‘Not especially,’ said Suzanne. ‘Not that it matters now anyway.’
Abbey sipped her coffee and said nothing.
‘Anyway, he’s really stirred things up,’ Suzanne said. ‘He was always good at that, but this has outdone anything that went before.’
‘I can imagine.’
‘My brothers are not impressed.’
‘I wouldn’t expect them to be.’
‘Their wives are even less impressed.’
‘And you?’ asked Abbey.
‘I don’t know what to think,’ said Suzanne. ‘Obviously I was delighted when he left me money. I need it. But it was hard to hear that he’d given something to the boys before. Not that I should’ve been surprised.’
Abbey wondered if she was going to be approached by each individual member of the family, each with their own version of what should happen with Fred’s will.
‘And what he did for you …’ Suzanne stirred her coffee idly, ‘well, it leaves me wondering about the justice of it all, from everyone’s perspective.’
‘Me too,’ admitted Abbey.
‘We didn’t know anything about his relationship with the woman before my mother,’ Suzanne said. ‘Getting her pregnant obviously made it significant, but the truth is that Dad had plenty of other relationships afterwards that could have been significant too.’
Abbey’s eyes widened. ‘Afterwards? After he got married, you mean?’
‘He was an unfaithful sod,’ said Suzanne. ‘God knows how many other half-siblings we might have.’
‘You can’t be serious.’
‘You exist,’ Suzanne pointed out.
‘I’m not actually your half-sibling,’ Abbey reminded her. ‘My mom is. So if there are others, they’re probably a lot older than me. At least …’ She wondered for how long Fred had carried on his extramarital affairs. If he was the sort of old stud that Suzanne seemed to think, he could have been having relationships after his wife had died, right up to his own death. Which left all sorts of possibilities open. ‘Regardless,’ she added, ‘he didn’t mention them in his will. I don’t think they can come chasing you for more of a cut, if that’s what you’re worried about.’
Suzanne was startled by the sudden waspish note in Abbey’s voice as she finished the sentence.
‘I wasn’t thinking that,’ she said. ‘I was wondering if … if there could be more Fitzpatricks out there, that’s all.’ She could see that Abbey wasn’t convinced. ‘You believe that all I care about is what my father left and who might claim it. That’s not true.’
‘Seems to me it’s what all of you believe,’ said Abbey. ‘At least as far as me and my mom are concerned.’
‘Is she really a nun?’ There was an edge of scepticism in Suzanne’s voice. ‘That’s so bizarre.’
‘Sure is.’
‘D’you know, if you’d said she’d become a Buddhist monk or something I’d have believed it quicker,’ Suzanne said. ‘The whole Catholic thing seems so out of date.’
Abbey couldn’t help smiling. ‘I once said that to her too. She was always a bit hippy-freaky. And a bit of a rebel. So I find it hard to believe that she’s contentedly living by the rulebook in the monastery. Which, as I said already, is a Christian community, not specifically Catholic, not that it makes much difference, I guess.’
‘So have you been in touch with her?’
‘No. I’ve sent a request to the prioress to meet her. But to be perfectly honest, I haven’t a clue what I’m going to say. Or what she’ll say either.’
‘Maybe she’ll take a very Christian view and say that no matter what happens, she’ll gift it back to the family.’
‘That’s what all of you want, isn’t it?’
Suzanne hesitated. ‘Part of me thinks that’s what’s fair,’ she said eventually. ‘But then I think of your mom being handed over to strangers and hauled off to America and airbrushed out of my dad’s past, and I can’t help feeling that she’s entitled to something.’
‘But not that I am,’ observed Abbey.
‘It’s a lot,’ said Suzanne.
‘I know.’
The two of them sat silently for a while, then Suzanne spoke again. ‘I’m using my share of the money for a hotel,’ she said.
Abbey looked at her curiously and Suzanne explained about the Mirador.
‘That’s very entrepreneurial of you,’ said Abbey.
‘I like to do my own thing,’ Suzanne said. ‘I love managing the El Boganto, but this would be a step up.’
‘It sounds lovely.’
‘Why don’t you come?’ Suzanne made the suggestion without giving it much thought. ‘Stay with me for a few days.’
‘So that I can see that you need more of your father’s money?’ asked Abbey.
‘I wasn’t thinking like that,’ said Suzanne. ‘But I guess you have a point.’
Abbey stayed silent.
‘You’re not as sweet and helpless as you seem, are you?’ Suzanne’s tone was thoughtful.
‘Do I seem sweet and helpless to you?’
‘A little,’ said Suzanne. ‘But you’ve clearly got some Fitzpatrick blood in you somewhere. You’ve got some inner toughness too.’
Abbey was taken aback. Nobody had ever called her tough before.
‘Do you want to visit?’ asked Suzanne. ‘No strings, Abbey, I promise. I’d like … well, y’see, I was the only girl. It’s interesting to have another female Fitzpatrick around. It would be nice to get to know you a bit better.’
‘I’m not a Fitzpatrick, I’m an Andersen,’ said Abbey. ‘Besides, I have to get back to the States.’
‘Why?’
‘I have a job.’
‘Doing nails.’
‘And what’s wrong with that?’ Abbey hated sounding defensive.
‘Nothing at all. But you can surely take some time out from it without the world crashing down around your ears?’
‘I’m not sure most of my clients would agree,’ Abbey told her. ‘If the world was crashing down around their ears, they’d want to be sure that at least their nails looked good while it was happening.’
Suzanne laughed. ‘Fair enough. But I’d like you to come. I’d like to get to know you better.’
So that you can ask me to hand over more money to you? wondered Abbey. So that you can buy your hotel?
‘I’ll think about it,’ she said.
‘OK, I’ll admit it.’ Suzanne looked sheepish. ‘I want to freak the boys out.’
‘Why?’
‘One of us getting friendly with the heiress,’ she said. ‘They wouldn’t take that at all well.’
‘Divide and conquer?’
‘Something like that.’
Abbey finished her coffee. ‘I don’t know what my plans are yet, but I’ll tell you when I do.’
‘Sure.’ Suzanne drained her cup too and then stood up. ‘No matt
er what we think, and no matter what I might say to you, you’re entitled to whatever Dad gave you. Don’t feel bad about it.’
‘If your brothers get their way, I won’t be seeing any of it,’ said Abbey. ‘So don’t you feel bad about that either.’
‘You’re definitely tougher than you look,’ murmured Suzanne.
‘Perhaps everybody is,’ said Abbey.
‘Coming back?’ Suzanne slung her bag over her shoulder.
‘I think I’ll stay here a bit longer,’ Abbey told her. ‘My head still hurts.’
She finally rang Pete and told him everything. He gave a long, low whistle before saying that it was a good thing she’d gone to Ireland because otherwise the old man wouldn’t have given her anything. Obviously Fred had drawn up the will in anticipation of meeting her, and if he hadn’t liked her, he would’ve torn it up. If she’d refused to meet him, he wouldn’t have left her anything at all. It was possible, remarked Pete, that the grinding sound she’d heard had been him shredding the previous will. Abbey said that it would’ve been far more sensible for him to have drawn up the will that favoured her and her mother but not to have signed it until after they’d met. Pete said that older people did strange things sometimes but it was as well he hadn’t waited to sign it, because otherwise he would’ve popped his clogs without leaving her anything. He also said that he was certain the courts would find in her and Ellen’s favour. After all, Fred had brought the will to his solicitor to be witnessed, the solicitor himself was the executor, and there was no obligation on the old man to leave anything to his children. Families often wanted to contest wills because they didn’t like what was in them, but the courts weren’t concerned with what they liked or didn’t like. The courts only wanted to ensure that the dead man’s last wishes were carried out. Given that Fred had no dependent children it was entirely up to him what he did with it.
‘So I doubt they’ll succeed in changing it,’ he finished. ‘If it was my case, I’d be very confident fighting against them.’
Things We Never Say Page 23