Abbey explained about Fred’s dislike of nuns and the Fitzpatricks’ belief that they could use that as a basis to challenge the will if necessary.
‘Not relevant,’ said Pete. ‘You’ve hit the jackpot, honey.’
‘That seems to be the general view, but I didn’t come here to hit the jackpot.’
‘All the same, you have. And I’d take up the sister on her offer to visit her in Spain, too. Find out what makes her tick. Of course she has her own selfish reasons for asking you. Do likewise. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.’
‘She’s not an enemy.’
‘Don’t be so naive,’ said Pete.
‘Hmm. Well, right now I’m not sure about staying with her. I only have a few hundred left in my checking account and I don’t want to load up my credit card …’
‘Abbey Andersen! Didn’t you just say you’ve been left a house worth a couple of million?’
‘Me and Mom.’
‘And five thousand in cash?’
She’d completely forgotten about that. The drama about the house had pushed it out of her mind.
‘So you can afford to spend some of it.’
‘I’m sure I won’t see that for ages yet. Besides, I don’t feel it’s mine to spend.’
‘Yes it is,’ said Pete. ‘You’re a good person, Abbey. Your mom is a good person. Why shouldn’t you both be rewarded?’
‘What sort of karma is it to take what we’re given when the rest of them will hate us for ever?’
‘Your mom doesn’t believe in karma,’ Pete reminded her. ‘She’s a reward and punishment person. And it’s time for you to collect your reward.’
‘It sounds almost reasonable the way you say it.’
‘Because it is,’ said Pete. ‘You’re entitled to that money and you’re taking it for yourselves and for that girl, Dilly, too. Don’t forget her. She’s why he wanted you to have it.’
‘I can’t forget her,’ confessed Abbey. ‘I keep thinking about her and how terrible things were for her.’
‘She was your grandmother, Abbey. She was connected to you. That’s why Mr Fitzpatrick is leaving you and your mom the house,’ said Pete. ‘So suck it up, honey. Take what you’ve been given and move on.’
‘It all seems so black and white when I’m talking to you,’ she said.
‘Good. That’s how you’ve got to see it. In the meantime, though, don’t let any of them pressurise you. Go to Spain, get to know this Suzanne woman. Think of this as a business opportunity.’
Abbey could understand why Pete might have that view. He was a lawyer, after all; they saw opportunity all the time. But she didn’t have that perspective and she couldn’t help thinking that perhaps this apparent inheritance was nothing more than a millstone around her neck, making people hate her and her mom. She’d never felt hated before. But then she’d never been rich before either.
Chapter 25
She was at breakfast the following morning when Donald and Gareth Fitzpatrick strode into the hotel and sat down at the table opposite her. She felt at a total disadvantage because when they arrived she was tucking into what was known as a full Irish, with bacon, sausage, tomato, egg and mushrooms, along with granary toast and home-made marmalade. It felt to Abbey as though she were feasting on their father’s account as she wiped away the crumbs from her mouth and offered them coffee.
Even though Donald said that they hadn’t come for coffee and pleasantries, neither he nor his brother objected when the waitress placed two cups in front of them and brought another cafetière, along with more toast, to the table.
‘My father is paying for it,’ said Donald as he filled his cup. ‘So I suppose we might as well have something.’
Abbey didn’t know what to say to the two men. She wondered if Suzanne (who she never saw at breakfast) knew that they were here.
‘OK,’ said Donald after he’d added milk and sugar to his coffee and buttered himself a slice of toast. ‘We’re here to tell you that you’d better do the right thing and give up any thoughts of getting your hands on our house.’
‘You’re not entitled to anything from my father,’ Gareth told her. ‘And for you to think otherwise is nonsense.’
‘We want to do this as cheaply and as easily as possible,’ Donald continued. ‘We’ll offer you and your mother twenty-five grand each to forget this ever happened.’
‘Quite frankly, we think that’s more than enough to assuage our father’s misplaced sense of guilt,’ said Gareth. ‘It’s the same sum as he left us and his grandchildren, so it seems perfectly fair to us.’
‘We assume you’ll do the right thing,’ said Donald.
‘Especially given that your mother is apparently a religious person and will immediately realise the injustice of what’s happened here.’
‘If you don’t give it up, we’ll go to court and we’ll win,’ said Donald. ‘Don’t underestimate our ability to get this done.’
‘Or our ability to portray you as a money-sucking leech.’ Gareth spoke bitterly as he refilled his cup.
‘We’re Dad’s true heirs,’ Donald said. ‘His sons. We’re entitled to that house and we’re going to have it.’
‘What about Suzanne?’ asked Abbey as the brothers finally stopped talking.
‘Suzanne has been well looked after,’ replied Donald. ‘A quarter of a million! She can probably hardly believe her luck.’
‘But didn’t you two get money before?’ asked Abbey.
‘That was different,’ said Donald. ‘Dad was entitled to give it to us.’
‘But not to Suzanne?’
‘Suzanne is none of your damn business,’ Donald said. ‘Nothing that goes on in this family is any of your damn business and you’d better get that into your head. You and your mother are nobody to us. Nobody.’
‘We’re the people who’ve been left your father’s house,’ said Abbey. ‘That means we’re somebody.’
‘You don’t have any rights to that house,’ said Gareth. ‘You have to see that.’
‘So what happens if we give it up?’ asked Abbey.
‘You get your fifty grand and you’re out of our lives for ever,’ replied Donald.
Abbey stared at the brothers. ‘You don’t want to keep in touch or anything like that? You don’t want to get to know me, or Mom?’
‘Why would we?’ asked Gareth. ‘You’re nothing to do with us.’
‘But we are,’ said Abbey. ‘I saw it myself. Suzanne is so like my mom it’s untrue.’
‘Wishful thinking.’ Donald’s words were dismissive.
‘No,’ said Abbey. ‘Inherited genes.’
‘You’re not part of the family,’ said Gareth again. ‘You live a different life. On a different continent, for heaven’s sake. You’ve nothing to do with us and you never will have. This … situation should never have arisen in the first place. It only happened because Dad was old and easily confused.’
‘I see,’ said Abbey.
‘So you’ve got to do the right thing,’ Donald told her. ‘Look, maybe you’re thinking that we’re here playing the big bad wolf, trying to grab money for ourselves when we’re already loaded. But that’s not the case. I’m a divorced man with a demanding first family and an extravagant second wife. I have debts and obligations and I need the money that the house will bring.’
‘All right.’ Abbey turned to Gareth. ‘And your reason for wanting everything is …?’
‘The financial crisis of the last few years has caused me a lot of trouble,’ said Gareth. ‘My property investments are under water and it’ll take a long time for them to come back to the surface again. I need hard cash, and soon.’
‘So you see, Abbey, we’re under a lot of pressure and you can’t spend time swanning around thinking about things. You’ve got to do the only right thing now and end this once and for all,’ Donald said. ‘Most importantly, neither you nor your mother were relevant to my father and we shouldn’t have to be worried about what you want now. D
ad lived his life without you and without caring about you and you got on fine without him. There’s no need to try to make us all one family. We’re not and we never will be.’
‘Regardless of what I think or what I might do, I still have to talk to my mom,’ Abbey reminded them.
‘You mean you haven’t spoken to her yet?’ Donald looked incredulous.
‘I’ve emailed the monastery. Sister Inez will set something up as soon as my mom is available.’
‘When will that be?’ demanded Gareth.
‘I don’t know.’
‘Call her again,’ ordered Donald. ‘Tell her how urgent it is.’
‘It’s the middle of the night on the West Coast right now,’ Abbey reminded him. ‘But Sister Inez knows it’s urgent. She’ll organise the meeting as soon as she can.’
‘See that she does,’ Donald said. ‘My brother and I don’t have time to faff around. We want our inheritance and we don’t need you delaying matters.’
Abbey looked at them enquiringly.
‘Suzanne doesn’t fit into it at all as far as you’re concerned?’
‘What’s your obsession with Suzanne?’ demanded Donald. ‘Is this some girl-power thing? Do you think she will be on your side? She won’t. Suzanne only looks out for herself.’
‘She was never here,’ said Gareth. ‘She left us. She doesn’t deserve anything.’
‘You clearly link deserving something with being in Ireland,’ said Abbey.
‘Too right,’ said Donald. ‘We put up with him. Me and Gar and Zoey and Lisette. We looked after him. We’re the people who matter.’
‘And we damn well need the money!’ Gareth’s voice rose as he spoke and a few of the other guests looked around at their table.
‘You don’t realise what we’ve been through over the last few years,’ he said more quietly. ‘Everyone in Ireland has lost money. So have we. We need to be compensated.’
‘You messed up your lives and your investments and now you want your dead father to bail you out?’
‘Don’t get stroppy with us.’ Donald’s eyes narrowed. ‘You don’t want us as enemies, Abbey Andersen.’
‘I think you already are,’ she said.
‘We’ve made you a fair offer,’ Gareth told her. ‘Take it and get out of our hair.’
‘I’m not sure that anyone else would think fifty K was fair,’ she said.
Donald turned to his brother. ‘Y’see,’ he said. ‘Like I told you. A couple of weeks ago she didn’t know we existed. A couple of weeks ago she probably would’ve jumped at the chance of fifty K, but now she wants everything.’
‘I don’t!’ cried Abbey. ‘But …’
‘But nothing.’ Donald stood up. ‘You have twenty-four hours to accept our offer, and after that we’re going to court.’
‘Don’t be so damn silly,’ said Abbey. ‘What are the chances of you winning a court case against me? Your father left me and Mom that house and you don’t have a good case.’
‘Who told you that?’ asked Gareth.
‘I spoke to my … a friend back home,’ Abbey replied. ‘He’s a lawyer. He—’
‘So you haven’t been able to talk to your mother but you’ve already been in touch with a lawyer!’ Donald’s face was like thunder. ‘That takes the biscuit, it really does. My father was off his trolley when he wrote that will. And I’m still not convinced that you didn’t say or do something to cause him to have that heart attack.’
Abbey’s eyes widened, but Gareth put his hand on his brother’s arm.
‘Cool it, Don,’ he said.
‘Whatever.’ Donald shook himself free. ‘What’s happened is plain wrong and I want to fix it. For me and my family. Which doesn’t include you, little Miss American Pie. Twenty-four hours. And that’s that.’
He stood up from the table. Gareth did too. Then they both walked out of the breakfast room, leaving Abbey staring after them.
While Donald and Gareth were meeting Abbey, Zoey decided to call to her mother’s. As soon as she walked into the house, Lesley told her to sit down and fill her in on what was going on.
‘Let’s face it, Donald is right. That woman and her daughter aren’t family. You are,’ she said.
‘Too right,’ agreed Zoey. ‘But what we believe and what the court says …’ She tapped her fingers on the arm of the chair. ‘Oh Mum, I want that house. I’ve always wanted it.’
‘It’s a nice property,’ agreed Lesley. ‘Take a lot of cash to bring it up to scratch, though.’
‘We could borrow.’ Zoey made a face. ‘Aargh, this is so not how I expected things to turn out when I married Don!’
‘Do you love him?’ Lesley had never asked Zoey that question before.
‘Of course I love him,’ Zoey replied. ‘He’s a good man. But I didn’t think I’d have to be listening to him whingeing on about his bloody ex all the time, or paying off those daughters of his. I put up with it because I thought we’d win out in the end, but now …’
‘You’re still young,’ said Lesley. ‘If you don’t think you’re going to get what you want from the marriage, maybe you need to reconsider.’
‘That makes it sound like I only married him for the money,’ said Zoey. ‘It was more than that and you know it. He’s good and caring, and he can be generous when he puts his mind to it. It’s just that he doesn’t have as much to be generous with as I thought.’
‘I’m trying to be practical,’ said Lesley.
‘I know.’ Zoey leaned back in the armchair and closed her eyes. ‘Stupid old fool, why didn’t he keep it in his pants?’
‘He was in his twenties back then,’ said Lesley. ‘None of them do then. None of them do any time, if you ask me.’
Zoey opened her eyes again and laughed. ‘They’re so easily led, aren’t they?’
‘Too right. What about the jewellery he left you? What’s that like?’
‘His dead wife’s jewellery.’ Zoey made a face. ‘How could he even think I’d want any of that! Some of it isn’t too bad – there’s a couple of gold chains and a silver bracelet that aren’t too horrific – but mostly it’s crummy costume jewellery and old-lady brooches. I don’t think it’s even worth trying to flog, and if I did I’m sure Don would have a fit anyhow. But until we sort out the whole will thing, I can’t even get my hands on that.’
‘Maybe you should get to know the American girl a bit better. Try to appeal to her good side.’
‘She’d see right through that,’ said Zoey. ‘She pretends to be syrupy sweet but I don’t think she is at all.’
‘I know men always go headlong into things,’ said Lesley. ‘But there’s more than one way to skin a cat.’
Her mother was right, thought Zoey. Although she wasn’t entirely sure that Abbey Andersen was a cat who’d let herself get skinned.
Lisette was searching the internet for information on inheritance law. None of the cases that she was reading about sounded like Fred’s. Mostly it was old men who’d left their fortune to a young second wife and completely neglected the first family. Understandably in these cases the family insisted that the dead man had been coerced into it by his new wife. The other cases usually concerned old dears who’d left millions to their pet cat or dog. There were no cases of men leaving money to women who were the antithesis of everything he believed in. Lisette was a hundred per cent certain that if Fred had known that his long-lost daughter was a nun, he wouldn’t have left the house to her. As for Abbey – Lisette’s views echoed Donald’s as far as she was concerned. She was convinced that the American girl had somehow persuaded Fred to include her in the bequest. Maybe because she was afraid there’d be a problem about a legacy to her mother. Perhaps the courts would see that too. But even so, Abbey would get half the value of the house.
Lisette grimaced. Half of Furze Hill divided between Gareth and Donald would be better than nothing. But it wasn’t anything like what they’d originally hoped for. In the meantime, she couldn’t even take the bloody silverware
that Fred had left her. She hadn’t said anything to Gareth, but she was hoping that maybe one or two of the pieces could be valuable. Not Antiques Roadshow material. Not the kind of valuable that made you gasp in surprise. But worth a few thousand anyway.
Still, none of that was enough. None of that could set them back on the road to security. None of that could stop Gareth looking at Papillon and thinking that selling their beautiful French home would solve everything. Damn you, Fred, she thought. Damn you for snatching away everything we hoped for. She leaned her head on the table and started to cry.
Chapter 26
The double doors leading on to the tiny terrace outside Abbey’s room at the El Boganto hotel were open, and the sound of laughter and conversation wafted up from the street below. Through the windows she could see a hodgepodge of buildings of various heights, backed by the magnificent cathedral – the pealing bells of which had woken her at seven that morning. She’d got up straight away and followed the aroma of coffee to the breakfast room – a converted cellar with narrow windows which allowed diners to see the feet of the people in the street outside.
She’d been finishing her second cup of coffee (and thinking that the El Boganto was far better at it than the Harbour Hotel had been) when Suzanne came in, expressing surprise that she was up so early.
‘The bells,’ explained Abbey, and Suzanne nodded.
‘I’m used to them by now,’ she said. ‘But they can be a bit of a shock.’
Suzanne told Abbey that, having been in Dublin for the best part of a week, she had lots to do, but she armed her with maps and informational leaflets and told her to explore the city.
‘We can meet up for dinner if you like?’ she offered, and Abbey said she looked forward to it.
Abbey had spent most of the day wandering around the old city, losing herself in the narrow maze of streets, hearing the excited clamour of voices, recognising the Spanish and remembering the times she and her mom had walked through the streets of cities or towns in Colombia or Venezuela or Ecuador. She recalled those days with a mixture of happiness and regret. She’d loved being part of her mom’s life. ‘You and me against the world,’ Ellen had sometimes said, and her words had strengthened Abbey, made her feel important. Yet she’d also felt angry with Ellen too – when her mother told her that they were moving on, leaving whatever town it was she’d come to love, to start over somewhere else, thinking that it wasn’t really her mom and her together but her mom alone who took on the world.
Things We Never Say Page 24