Not that she wanted it now anyway. Whereas once she’d dreamed about living there, it had become a symbol of the growing division between her and her husband. They hardly spoke these days, their opposing views on Fred’s divisive legacy too far apart to bridge. Gareth spent most of his time in his den. Lisette presumed he was looking at French property sites. When he wasn’t at the computer, he was talking to Don in a low, urgent voice. Don had found out about Lisette and Zoey’s offer to the Americans. When Zoey told her, she said that he’d been angry with her at first, but then admitted that if Abbey and her mother had accepted, he probably would’ve agreed to it despite his principles, if only to get them out of their hair. But Abbey’s own offer was too far away from anything reasonable, and besides, it wasn’t about the money in the end, it was about the right to be a Fitzpatrick.
Gareth hadn’t said anything at all to Lisette about the offer at first. In fact neither of them was talking much. They seemed to have completely lost their ability to hold a conversation. All they did was snap at each other. The last time they’d spoken about the will, she’d said that Don was behaving like a child in wanting all or nothing, and that Gareth was too weak to stand up to him. Gareth’s jaw had tightened at that, and he’d retorted that he was supporting Don because they needed to stick together about this, not go off half-cocked like she and Zoey had done. She was relieved that he’d finally acknowledged it, but had yelled at him that at least she wasn’t pissing their frugal resources away on a pipe dream. And then she’d added something about pissing the children’s inheritance away too, and that all he was trying to prove was that he was as good as Don, but the truth was that when it came to business neither of them were, because they weren’t cut-throat like his father and they should stop trying to pretend that they knew what they were doing because they didn’t.
‘I know exactly what I’m doing,’ Gareth had responded. ‘I’m trying to save our family’s future, while all you want to do is hand it on a plate to someone else.’
That argument had ended with her storming upstairs and going to bed, thankful that their shouting hadn’t woken the children. She’d lain there, barely containing her rage, until she’d heard Gareth come upstairs too. But he hadn’t joined her in the bedroom; he’d slept in the guest room, where he’d stayed ever since.
Lisette couldn’t quite believe that her marriage was falling apart at the seams. She’d always been proud of how she and Gareth had resolved things in the past, how they’d always managed to stick to their self-imposed rule of never going to sleep angry. Not that there had been many instances of it anyway. They were a good team. They believed in the same things. They shared the same values. Or at least they had. Because it was all very different now.
When she walked into the living room and saw Alex, Ryan, Abbey and the woman she realised must be Ellen Connolly (although she didn’t look anything like the nun she’d imagined), Lisette stood still in shock. Although she’d noticed cars parked on the street outside, it hadn’t occurred to her that anyone would be at the house. The sight of them there, sitting on Fred’s sofa, drinking tea from Fred’s cups, was like a blow to the stomach.
‘Lisette.’ Alex stood up and extended his hand. ‘How are you?’
She shook it automatically even as a part of her brain registered that this was something else that would annoy Gareth.
‘I’m well.’ Her reply was automatic too, no matter how she felt.
Abbey looked at her with concern. The last time she’d seen Lisette, she’d thought that Gareth’s wife was as coolly elegant as she’d imagined all Frenchwomen to be. She’d looked quietly chic in her black dress, high heels and neatly styled white-grey hair. Today she was wearing jeans, trainers and the sort of fleece that Ellen had rejected. And even though there was still a certain elegance about her, her face was drawn and there were black circles beneath her eyes.
‘Would you like some tea?’ asked Alex.
‘I … what are you doing here?’ Lisette looked confused.
‘Having a meeting,’ Alex told her. ‘But you’re welcome to sit with us for a while. Did you come to tidy the house? It hardly needs it.’
‘I …’ Lisette didn’t know what to say.
Ryan Gilligan got up, went to the kitchen and returned with another cup. He filled it with tea and offered it to Lisette.
‘We’ve given you a shock.’ Ellen spoke gently. ‘I’m sorry.’
Lisette took a mouthful of hot tea (that bloody Lyons blend, she thought involuntarily; I should’ve thrown it in the bin). ‘Are you …’ She didn’t finish the sentence, but stared at Ellen.
‘I’m Sister Benita,’ said Ellen. ‘I’m Fred’s daughter.’
Abbey looked at her mother. It was the first time Ellen had called herself Fred’s daughter, and the words took her breath away. Because quite suddenly it was real. Quite suddenly she actually believed it. Fred Fitzpatrick, the man who’d died before her very eyes, was indeed Ellen’s father, was indeed her own grandfather. And because of that, they were connected to people like Lisette and her husband, and Zoey and Gareth and Suzanne. They were part of their family.
‘You’re not what I expected.’ Lisette put the cup on the coffee table.
‘I’m sure I would’ve been more like you expected if I hadn’t had to buy some cold-weather clothes,’ said Ellen.
‘Maybe that’s it.’ Lisette continued to stare at her. ‘You look – you look like Suzanne.’
And that was it, thought Abbey. That was what had shocked her when Ellen had first changed into the skirt and jumper. She didn’t look like herself any more. She was an older version of Suzanne.
‘I haven’t yet met Suzanne,’ said Ellen. ‘I hope I will. But I’m glad to meet you.’
Ryan, Alex and Abbey were watching the two women. Lisette didn’t speak. But then her mobile, loud and shrill, broke the silence that had descended on the room.
‘I’m just outside the house.’
Lisette listened as Zoey told her she’d been driving past and seen her car outside.
‘What are you doing there without me? Not raiding the safe, I hope!’ Zoey was joking. She knew Lisette wouldn’t dream of it. They were partners in crime when it came to lifting things from Furze Hill. ‘Let me in, will you?’
Lisette looked at the people in front of her and told them Zoey was outside.
‘Excellent,’ said Ellen. ‘I get to meet someone else.’
‘I don’t know if …’ Alex looked doubtful.
‘Let her in,’ said Ellen.
Lisette got up and answered the door. They could hear her whispered words before she returned to the living room with Zoey.
Abbey looked at Zoey with interest. Unlike Lisette, she was as pretty and as up-to-the-minute as she remembered, wearing a pair of wool trousers and a fur-trimmed wool coat over wedge boots. A matching fur-trimmed hat was perched on her luxuriant brunette curls.
‘Well, this is a turn-up,’ she said when she stood in front of them. ‘Staking an early claim, are you?’
‘Hello,’ said Ellen. ‘I’m Sister Benita. It’s good to meet you.’
‘You’re the reason for all the trouble,’ said Zoey. ‘You’re the mad nun in the monastery. You don’t look mad, but I suppose appearances can be deceiving.’
‘I guess that’s why one should never go on appearances,’ said Ellen equably.
‘Tea?’ asked Alex.
‘You have some nerve,’ said Zoey, as she removed her hat and coat and draped them over a chair. ‘Bringing them here. Using this place like your own.’
‘And you’ve come here because …?’ There was a touch of frost in Alex’s normally urbane voice.
‘I saw Lisette’s car outside. I thought she was cleaning. I was going to help.’
Everyone looked at Zoey’s immaculate, stylish trousers and the silk blouse that had been revealed when she’d taken off her coat. Zoey realised that she wasn’t exactly dressed for cleaning.
‘I chat to her while she’
s working,’ she clarified.
‘How good of you,’ said Alex. ‘You come here a lot, do you?’
‘We had to,’ said Zoey. ‘You can see that Lizzie’s done a great job on the house. It was a tip before.’
‘That was thoughtful,’ said Ellen.
‘You can’t be a nun.’ Zoey was shaking her head. ‘You’re too … too … you’re normal. Which,’ she said abruptly, ‘isn’t good for us.’ She looked at Lisette. ‘That’s their strategy. Make her look as though she isn’t a nun at all. Make her look like Suzanne.’
Lisette stared at her and then at Ellen. And then she started to cry.
‘There’s no need to be upset.’ Ellen stood up and moved towards Lisette. ‘There’s nothing to cry about.’
But Lisette’s shoulders continued to shake with the ferocity of the tears that were now spilling down her cheeks. Alex and Ryan looked uncomfortable, while Abbey watched as her mother put her arm around the other woman and gently drew her towards her. Zoey, meanwhile, continued to stare at Ellen, as though unconvinced she was a real person.
‘Je suis désolée.’ Lisette finally moved away from Ellen. ‘I am sorry. I didn’t mean to …’ She took the tissue that Ellen handed her and wiped her eyes. ‘This is silly of me.’
‘You’re upset,’ said Ellen. ‘Everyone gets upset. There’s nothing silly about it.’
‘What’s silly is why she’s upset,’ said Zoey. ‘Why she has to be. Why I have to be. You’re supposed to be a nun. You’re supposed to embrace poverty. But you’re grabbing our inheritance from under our noses. You and your daughter. You have a plan, haven’t you, to take it all and leave us without a thing.’
‘Hardly without a thing,’ said Alex. ‘Sister Benita and her daughter made a more than generous offer, which you turned down. As you already know, Mr Fitzpatrick made previous provision for his sons as well as the money and goods he left this time. In this current will he also made provision for his daughters. And his grandchildren.’
‘I wasn’t married to Donald back then!’ cried Zoey. ‘I didn’t see any of it. Disgruntled Deirdre got her mitts on everything.’
‘Disgruntled Deirdre?’ Ellen was confused.
‘His ex-wife. Though I suppose that’s another thing that counts against him as far as you’re concerned. I’m his second wife. He’s divorced. You lot don’t believe in divorce, do you? You think men and women should stick together even when they’re utterly miserable. He didn’t meet me until after that bitch Deirdre had cheated on him. Then she took him to the cleaners, the skanky cow.’
Ryan stifled a grin at Zoey’s words. Abbey hid her own smile behind her hand. Alex said nothing.
‘There is clearly a lot of emotion going on here,’ said Ellen as she sat down again, having given Lisette another comforting hug. ‘Perhaps you’d better explain it all from your point of view.’
So Zoey, with occasional input from Lisette, told Ellen about the impact that Fred’s decision had had on the two brothers: Don’s rage at being usurped as the eldest, Gareth’s view that he had to support him, their anger about what their father had done and their belief – certainly in Gareth’s case – that Fred’s legacy would have eased his money worries.
‘Then you guys sail in here without a care in the world and take what’s rightfully ours, and that, you know, is plain wrong!’ said Zoey.
‘But as we said, they made an extremely generous offer, which you turned down,’ said Alex.
‘Why should anything go to them?’ demanded Zoey. ‘Half will probably get hoovered up by the convent, sorry, monastery and the rest – well, little Miss Butter-Wouldn’t-Melt-in-My-Mouth there will be able to live a life that she damn well shouldn’t be accustomed to.’
‘And why shouldn’t she?’ asked Ryan. ‘What makes you more entitled to it than her?’
‘Stop!’ Ellen held up her hand. ‘Stop with all this bitterness and anger and self-justification. Can’t you see that it’s poisoning your souls?’
‘Easy to say!’ Zoey couldn’t contain her rage. ‘Easy to say when the poisoning of yours has been greatly eased by what the old man has left you.’
‘Zoey.’ Lisette put her hand on her sister-in-law’s arm. ‘Sister Benita is right. We are … This is wrong. All of it. Everything we’ve said and done.’
‘We’re not wrong.’ There was a warning tone in Zoey’s voice. ‘We’ve only ever done what we thought was fair.’
Ryan looked at her curiously, but Ellen was speaking again.
‘I think we should pray,’ she said.
‘For crying out loud!’ Zoey was infuriated. ‘Now she’s playing the God card.’
But everyone fell silent as Ellen bent her head and began to speak. ‘Oh Lord, fill our hearts with Your love. Help us to understand Your will.’
Fred’s will, more likely, thought Abbey, as she peeped at the others from beneath her lowered lashes. Her eyes locked with Zoey’s, which were as amused as her own. That surprised Abbey. She’d thought that Zoey was hard and tough, but all at once she realised that although the other girl’s words might have been angry, they were fearful too. And concerned. For herself, she wondered, or for her husband? The man who’d been cheated and who’d lost everything.
Money should make things easier, she thought. But somehow, for everyone in the Fitzpatrick family, it had led to some very difficult choices.
Chapter 36
The snow was falling more heavily by the time Abbey and Ellen returned to the hotel. They went into the lounge and sat beside another gas fire, although this one was much bigger than the one in their room. Ellen warmed her hands in front of it while Abbey stared into the blue and yellow flames. When one of the hotel staff asked if they’d like anything to eat or drink, they both declined.
‘I couldn’t possibly ingest any more tea,’ said Ellen. ‘I’m not used to it at weird hours of the day.’
Abbey thought her mother sounded tired. She was tired herself, and all the information that Ryan had given her was making her head spin. He’d kept up a conversation on the way back to the hotel, telling them that they’d meet with the barrister before going into the court the next day and that nothing either Lisette or Zoey had to say would make any difference – not that they’d be likely to get a chance to speak anyway. The truth was, Ryan said, that most cases ended up being more legal argument than anything else. And it was always possible that the Fitzpatricks would suddenly realise they were wasting their time and withdraw it. Which would be good for Alex, Ryan added, who was annoyed at having his professional integrity called into question.
‘Why does he think it’s being called into question?’ asked Ellen, and Ryan replied that challenging the will insinuated that Alex had given wrong advice to Fred when he’d turned up with his home-written document.
‘So it’s important for him to be seen to win?’ asked Ellen.
‘Yes,’ said Ryan.
‘And important for the two Fitzpatrick brothers to be seen to win too,’ she mused.
‘If it was only about the money, they would have accepted your offer,’ Ryan pointed out. ‘It was a seriously good deal. Clearly position in the family is very important to Donald, and the discovery that he’s not his father’s eldest child seems to have left him feeling disrespected in some way.’
‘That’s mental,’ said Abbey. ‘His position in the family won’t come to much if we win and get everything! He’ll be in a worse situation.’
‘Sometimes people don’t think clearly under pressure,’ said Ryan.
Ellen had nodded at his words and then retreated into a contemplative silence that Abbey hadn’t wanted to break. As she’d got out of the car, Ryan had squeezed her hand and told her not to worry, that everything would work out fine.
‘Grand?’ she murmured, and he’d squeezed her hand again and said yes, grand.
But, she thought, as she turned up the flames of the gas fire, legal battles never turned out to be grand, even if the decision went your way. Pete had told her tha
t before, and Pete was always right.
Her phone rang, startling her.
‘Babes?’
‘Hi, Cobey.’ She lowered her voice. ‘What’s up?’
‘Nothing,’ he said. ‘I thought I’d call, see how things were going for you.’
The last time they’d met, the night before Ellen had arrived in San Francisco, she’d told him about going to Ireland to sort out the situation regarding Fred’s will. She’d tried to keep it all low-key, but somehow she’d ended up telling him more than she’d meant to about the Fitzpatricks, the house and the money. He’d been determined that she should fight for what was hers. He’d told her that she was lucky that the Fitzpatricks hadn’t accepted the offer of half, because in the end, when the judgment was handed down and she got everything, she’d be much better off. And it was right, Cobey added, that her mother was handing over her share to Abbey; nuns didn’t need money, but single girls living in the city did. He had then proceeded to tell her how best she should spend it. He wasn’t so keen on the idea of her buying the apartment (who wants to be tied down to a single place? he’d asked); he thought she should take time out and travel the world. Live a little, he’d said, enjoy the good things in life.
Abbey had listened to Cobey itemising the things that money could buy and wondered if, at the end of his shopping list, there’d be anything left. Then he’d added that they could rent a nice place overlooking the bay – better than the apartment they’d previously shared and better than the one she was now living in. When she’d told him that she liked where she lived, he’d remarked that it wasn’t a rich girl’s apartment and she was going to be rich. She owed it to herself, Cobey told her, to get somewhere great. And then he’d mentioned a downtown block with amazing views towards the ocean which would suit her perfectly. And him too, he’d added, because it was an easy commute to the office where he hoped to start work.
Abbey hadn’t missed the fact that he was continually talking as though the two of them were going to live together on her return from Ireland, but she didn’t say anything. Now, despite Cobey asking her questions about the legal process, she didn’t say very much either.
Things We Never Say Page 36