Things We Never Say

by Sheila O'Flanagan

  ‘You’re not serious!’ Solí’s huge brown eyes were wide with disbelief. ‘He’s cut his family out for you and your mom? It’s like a movie.’

  ‘That’s what I thought,’ said Abbey. ‘But Hollywood has a habit of resolving things quickly. This is taking a bit longer and it’s not an entirely pleasant experience.’

  ‘No, I gathered that,’ said Solí. ‘All the same, it’s pretty amazing to think that you’re an heiress.’

  ‘I didn’t quite see it that way myself,’ said Abbey. ‘Sounds kinda cool to be an heiress, doesn’t it?’

  ‘And how.’ Solí looked excited. ‘But you deserve it, Abbey. You have to let yourself believe that.’

  ‘Hmm. That’s the sticking point,’ said Abbey. ‘Not everyone thinks so.’

  ‘Why shouldn’t the old man look after you and your mom?’ demanded Solí. ‘He walked away from his responsibilities before. Just because you’re adults now doesn’t mean he should forget about them.’

  ‘I never thought of it in those terms before, but you have a point,’ said Abbey.

  ‘You get in there and fight for your rights, girl,’ Solí told her. ‘I understand why your mom is putting her share back in the pot, but you should enjoy the feeling of being rich.’

  ‘I’m not rich yet,’ said Abbey. ‘I’m still not sure I’ll ever be. But it’s a nice dream.’

  It was more than a dream, Pete told her the following day when she called him. It was her right. And she and Ellen were being incredibly generous in giving back half of what had been left to them.

  ‘I thought your mom might give it to you,’ Pete said, and Abbey told him that in practice that was what would happen, but then she’d sign it over to the Fitzpatricks in whatever way the legal people thought best. Pete remarked that he would have started negotiations with a much lower offer, and Abbey told him that it wasn’t a negotiation process, at which Pete guffawed and said that life was all about negotiation but that he was very happy for her.

  It was nice for Pete to be happy for her instead of worried about her, thought Abbey. It was nice to see him smile.

  She’d barely finished talking to Pete when her cell phone rang and she saw Ryan Gilligan’s name on the display.

  ‘Hello, Ryan,’ she said.

  ‘Hi, I got your email and your proposal,’ said Ryan without preamble. ‘I’ve got to tell you something first, though.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Well, I spoke to Alex and we were about to put something to the Fitzpatricks, but before we did, we received an email ourselves. From Lisette and Zoey Fitzpatrick.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘They had a proposal to make too,’ said Ryan. ‘They’ve offered you and your mother a hundred thousand each.’

  ‘They have?’ Abbey was surprised. ‘D’you think Donald and Gareth know about it? Does Suzanne?’

  ‘I rather think this is an initiative from the Fitzpatrick wives.’

  ‘But that’s way worse than what we’re suggesting,’ said Abbey. ‘I couldn’t possibly buy the apartment with that.’

  ‘Ah,’ said Ryan. ‘So that’s what you plan to do with it.’

  Abbey told him about Pete’s purchase and how he wanted it for her.

  ‘Why would Zoey and Lisette think we’d take such a small amount?’ she asked, even as she acknowledged to herself that a few weeks earlier she would’ve jumped with joy at the thought of being offered that kind of money.

  ‘I suppose they felt you might be OK with it,’ said Ryan. ‘You were so embarrassed about anything at all at the start.’

  ‘I’m not embarrassed now,’ she said, reminding herself that everything was relative. ‘I’ve talked to my mom and she hasn’t said that it’d be easier for a camel to get through the eye of a needle than for me to get into the kingdom of heaven if I accept it. Besides, we’re still leaving a fair chunk to the rest of them. I think we’re being very reasonable. Don’t you?’ she added anxiously.

  ‘Yes, I do,’ said Ryan. ‘Alex will make your offer tomorrow and we’ll take it from there.’

  ‘OK,’ said Abbey. ‘Hopefully they’ll say yes and everyone will be happy.’

  ‘Total happiness,’ said Ryan. ‘The absolute aim of Celtic Legal.’

  It was Alex Shannon who emailed the family with Ellen and Abbey’s offer. He sent the same mail to all of them, advising that as Donald and Gareth currently intended to challenge Fred’s bequests, there would be an inevitable delay before any funds could be released to them, but that if they accepted Abbey’s proposal, he, Alex, would try to expedite things as soon as possible.

  Suzanne, who a moment earlier had received a phone call from Jaime Roig telling her that a firm offer had been made by a rival consortium for the Mirador Hotel, picked up the phone and called Donald straight away. As far as she was concerned, Abbey and her mother were being very honourable and her brothers should accept the offer without any more fuss.

  ‘I’m not happy,’ said Donald.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘They’re saying half the estate. But there’s a lot of stuff in the house that we don’t know about and that might be valuable.’

  ‘So what? I’m sure you can come to an agreement about dividing that too. You hardly want anything for sentimental reasons, do you?’

  ‘We need to get it all valued. To see exactly what’s what.’

  ‘Oh for crying out loud!’ exclaimed Suzanne. ‘Accept the damn offer so that we can get on with our lives.’

  ‘It’s a ploy,’ said Donald. ‘We can get more out of them. And, being honest, it’s not more I want, it’s everything.’

  ‘Why?’ demanded Suzanne. ‘Why does it have to be all or nothing?’

  ‘Because Dad shouldn’t have done it in the first place,’ said Donald. ‘He usurped my position in the family and he’s made fools out of everyone.’

  ‘It doesn’t bloody matter!’

  ‘Yes,’ said Donald. ‘It does. I’m the eldest in this family. I’m his heir. He should have consulted me.’

  ‘Get over yourself, Donald Fitzpatrick.’ Suzanne could hardly contain her fury with her older brother. ‘Who cares about that stuff? Nobody but you. Say yes to Abbey and put all this behind us.’

  ‘I’m not agreeing,’ Donald retorted. ‘I don’t see why I should and you can’t make me.’

  ‘But I need my share now!’ cried Suzanne.

  ‘You’ll do better when we win this case. I promise.’

  ‘Use your head!’ Suzanne implored him. ‘Dragging this through the courts as much to prove some kind of point as anything else is sheer madness – and will cost us a fortune anyway.’

  ‘I don’t care,’ said Donald obstinately. ‘I want what’s ours and I don’t want that madwoman acknowledged as part of our family. And that’s final.’

  Suzanne ended the call without another word, yearning for the time when you could bang the receiver on to its cradle with a satisfying thump to release your rage. Stabbing at a keypad button didn’t allow the same release of energy. Her brother was such a dick, she thought, with his antiquated ideas of ancestry and inheritance. Not to mention commercially thick, because she knew she was right about the costs of any protracted legal action. She’d been under the impression that Donald needed that money because of his divorce, but he couldn’t be that badly off if he was refusing to negotiate with Abbey Andersen. Gareth, however, was definitely in a financial hole. Everyone in Ireland who’d fancied themselves as a player in the property market had come a cropper. Suzanne had a certain amount of sympathy for her second brother, but his problems were of his own making. He’d never been a businessman, had scoffed at chasing profit in the past. It was a pity he’d been suckered in like so many others. Agreeing to the settlement was surely a way out for him.

  She needed to get Gareth onside, make him talk to Donald and point out how stupid their older brother was being. She dialled the number.

  It was Lisette who answered, sounding, to Suzanne’s ears, tired and strained as she to
ld her to hold on for a moment. Then Gareth came on the line. Suzanne asked if he was prepared to accept Ellen Connolly and Abbey Andersen’s offer.

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Gareth. ‘There are other considerations.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Well, they’re trying to keep a lot. The house is worth at least a couple of million. Why should they get half of that sort of money?’

  ‘Maybe it’s not ideal,’ said Suzanne. ‘But the reality is that Dad made a decision and we have to live with it.’

  ‘No we don’t,’ said Gareth. ‘Don says—’

  ‘Oh for God’s sake, I’ve just been talking to Don. And he’s an idiot!’ retorted Suzanne.

  ‘He’s not,’ said Gareth. ‘He’s been pretty successful, you know. And he was hard done by by Deirdre. She took him to the cleaners with a vengeance.’

  ‘In which case, he hasn’t shown himself to be great at negotiations in the past.’

  ‘He thinks we can get everything,’ said Gareth. ‘The legal team he’s putting together—’

  ‘Excuse me? Legal team?’ Suzanne was astounded. ‘He doesn’t need a legal team. Just advice.’

  ‘Yes, but we need the best possible advice,’ Gareth said.

  ‘Give me patience!’ Suzanne rolled her eyes in exasperation. ‘Alex has already given us good advice. Don has his head up his arse, and from that position he’s certainly not seeing anything clearly. Talk to him, Gar. Make him accept this damn offer. Then I can get my money and you’ll get yours and we can all get on with our lives.’

  ‘The problem is,’ Gareth said, ‘under their offer, I wouldn’t even get half a million. And that isn’t enough. There’ll be taxes and—’

  ‘Listen to yourself!’ Suzanne interrupted him. ‘Since when were you the sort of person who thought half a million wasn’t a huge amount of money?’

  ‘Since I became a property tycoon,’ replied Gareth wryly.

  ‘You’re a teacher,’ said Suzanne. ‘You were never a property tycoon. Would you please stop thinking like that.’

  ‘I might not be a tycoon, but I’m still up to my neck in property.’

  ‘Oh Gar, everything will work out, honestly it will. But you need to get a sense of perspective on all this. So does Don.’

  ‘I’ll talk to him,’ said Gareth. ‘But I’m not sure it’ll do any good.’

  After he’d finished talking to Suzanne, Gareth went up to his den and started looking at French property sites again. The prices of houses in La Rochelle were marginally higher than they’d been the previous year. And the agent on the site he was looking at was actively seeking more properties. If they accepted Abbey’s offer and also sold Papillon, they might conceivably break even. But if Donald was right and they won their challenge, then he might be able to hold on to their French home. Even though right now he hated anything to do with bricks and mortar. No matter how Lisette felt about it.

  I don’t know what to do. Lisette was messaging Zoey on Facebook. Suzanne wants to accept the offer. Gareth is in two minds. My head hurts thinking about it.

  There’s no way Don will accept half, typed Zoey. It’s a matter of honour with him.

  Half is better than nothing, responded Lisette.

  I was hoping she might counter our own offer. Zoey’s fingers flew over the keyboard. I thought she might come back with a counter of 250K, which would have been doable.

  Don’t you think this is?

  What I think doesn’t matter. It’s what Don thinks that counts.

  Can’t you work on him?

  Perhaps if she’d come back and suggested 250K I might have been able to persuade him. But not half. He thinks it’s way too much.

  What if Deirdre had a word with him?

  Are you mad? He hates the bitch.

  She’s not that bad.

  Oh, please, typed Zoey. She feeds off him. And so do those leechy kids of his. He gives the girls money so that they’ll like him, you know.

  They love him because he’s their father. Not because of money.

  I’m not so sure about that, returned Zoey. You should hear their demands sometimes.

  What are we going to do? Lisette could feel despair seeping through her fingers.

  Let’s meet. Zoey was typing quickly because she could hear Donald in the hallway outside their room and she didn’t want him to see what she was doing. How about at Fred’s. Tomorrow afternoon?

  I’ve classes until 4 p.m. Does 5 work?

  Perfect, typed Zoey. See you then.

  Chapter 31

  The exhibition hall that was holding the nail art competition that Abbey had entered was buzzing with excited participants and their models. The women wore their newly adorned nails with glamour and confidence and Abbey couldn’t help thinking that she’d been far too conservative in the work she’d done. The theme for the competition was Seasons, and most of the other competitors had gone all out to make the nails of their models as bright and as colourful as possible. The girls in the 3D division had pulled out all the stops – Abbey had seen one of the models wearing nail extensions depicting branches on trees with tiny leaves dangling from the ends. It was amazing to look at, although obviously impractical on a day-to-day basis as the wearer wouldn’t have been able to use her hands for anything. But still, she thought, the work was so brilliant it deserved a prize. Selina, who’d been surprised and pleased when Abbey told her she was entering the competition, had immediately offered to be her model, and now she was holding her carefully painted nails in front of her, showing them off to their best advantage even though Abbey wasn’t at all hopeful that her depiction of the changing seasons across Selina’s nails was good enough.

  ‘I thought you’d have to be able to use your hands afterwards,’ she remarked as another model with impossibly long nails walked by. ‘Neither hers nor the Fall Tree set are at all practical.’

  ‘It’s art,’ Selina pointed out. ‘Art doesn’t have to be practical.’

  Abbey nodded, realising that the competition was about the skills you could use as a nail technician, not what your model could do afterwards. It’s like high fashion, she thought. Bizarre but brilliant.

  In the end another technician won the overall prize (she’d chosen spring as her theme, and her model’s nails represented budding flowers), but Abbey did take the top prize in the art division, which meant a bear hug from Selina to go with her prize of product samples.

  ‘The thing is,’ Selina told her, ‘if you start making a name for yourself, people might want you to endorse their products. You could even do a line of your own!’

  Abbey could feel the salon owner’s enthusiasm. And she was already thinking about how she could improve her designs and what she might do to make them stand out more. At the very least, she told herself later that night when she was curled up in front of the TV watching CSI: LA, she should do some 3D work as that seemed to get most of the attention. And she should come up with more art templates of her own. Old Masters, she thought suddenly. They’d be good. People would like to wear the Mona Lisa on their fingertips.

  The following day Selina put up a huge poster in the window of the salon, advertising that the award-winning Abbey Andersen worked there and offering personal consultations with her. Abbey, who thought it was a bit OTT, was nevertheless astonished when the number of people making appointments for manicures and nail art doubled.

  ‘You see,’ said Selina. ‘These things matter. I told you. Get yourself out there, girl. Put your name in lights.’

  Abbey entered another competition a couple of weeks later. This time she was the overall winner for her 3D Mona Lisa, which everyone agreed was amazing. Selina put her trophies in the window and her client list grew again.

  Claudia, who’d never come to the salon before, made an appointment to have her nails done before attending a business dinner with Pete. She brought a friend with her, a tall, stylish woman named Tina, who worked in a private investment company.

  ‘Abbey is thinking of d
eveloping her own line of products,’ Claudia told Tina. ‘Might be a worthwhile investment for you.’

  Abbey looked at Claudia, speechless. It was true that she’d mentioned it to Pete the last time they’d talked, but it was part of a casual conversation in which she’d said that when her money from Fred’s estate finally came through (and obviously that was still a long way away), she might invest some of it in her own range of nail colours and art templates.

  ‘There are plenty of products on the market already,’ said Tina. ‘Why would yours be any different?’

  ‘Colours.’ Abbey surprised herself by how quickly she answered. ‘There’s scope for creating a different type of palette and colours that give more special effects.’

  ‘You think so?’

  ‘Yes.’ Now that she’d expressed aloud to a stranger what she’d been thinking about for the last couple of weeks, Abbey grew more animated. ‘There are designs I’d love to do but the colour schemes aren’t quite right.’

  ‘Here’s my card.’ Tina handed it to her. ‘Let’s talk sometime.’

  As they left, both delighted with their high-gloss finishes, Claudia turned to Abbey and kissed her on the cheek.

  ‘I always knew you had talent,’ she said. ‘It’s nice to see it blossom.’

  Abbey was so astonished that she almost didn’t notice the size of the tip that the two women had left her.

  She had a fifteen-minute break at midday and so she popped out to buy a sandwich, still deep in thought about the potential for a business of her own. It seemed a huge step and one that she was ill-equipped to take, but now that the idea was taking hold in her mind, she couldn’t help giving it more and more space. It seemed to her that this was totally doing what Pete had said about developing her talents, and that Ellen would be proud of her too. Clearly Tina had thought that both she and her idea had potential or she wouldn’t have passed over her card, and as for Claudia – Abbey had always felt Claudia simply tolerated her, but there had been real affection in the other woman’s words. Abbey felt her heart beat faster as she thought more and more about it. Abbey’s Art, she thought. Or Fab Fingers. Or – even better – Nailed!