"My brother used to do this at the start," Patrick explained. "But he's a family man now and he'll be going out to get us the vegetables, so we hired Buzzo. Poor divil, it's his only way of having a proper breakfast, getting a few euros together and still getting to school by nine a.m. He gets the money in his hand from me. I don't really approve, but if you had Buzzo's family . .."
"Drink, I guess?" Derry enquired.
"Oh, no. Drink they could cope with. Drugs, I'm afraid. Lives in a bad area. All his brothers are addicts and his father's a dealer."
"His mother?"
"Away with the fairies, spaced out for years now."
"No hope for the kid then?"
"He's survived so far. He's very bright, you see, so a few of us just make it easier for him to get by without having to be tempted by the drug money. Soon he'll be old enough to have a place on his own. He's gone down now to make tea and tidy up a bit for Kennedys" men, who are doing a job down the road."
"Are they a good firm?"
"About the best. They did our last repaint job and I couldn't praise them enough."
There was the sound of a horn outside.
"It's the linen, Mr Brennan. I'll take the sack down to them now," Buzzo called out.
Yesterday's dirty tablecloths and napkins went off at speed down the lane and Buzzo returned carrying a large box of folded replacements. This had just been placed in what was called Brenda's cupboard when the meat arrived.
By now the chef trainee had arrived, so he took over and Buzzo, with his folded bank note in his pocket, was heading off for the second job of the day. It reminded Derry so much of his own early years, finding any job that was going and nailing it down. He wished he could tell Buzzo how well it had turned out for him, but kids hated these preaching speeches, so he would say nothing.
The trainee, who was called Jimmy and was a bit slow for Patrick's liking, was being hastened through his coffee. His job now was to cut up the meat and have it ready for Chef to cook when the time came. At the same time he was to make a stock with the bones, chicken carcasses and vegetables that were in the cool room all tied up in plastic bags.
And then Blouse Brennan appeared to check the list of what they needed. "I'll have to buy courgettes. My own are ludicrous," he apologised.
"That's all right, Blouse, a lot of places buy all their vegetables," Patrick assured him.
Then the fish box came, from the fishmonger, and then boxes of wine from the supplier and the cheeses.
The assistant chef, Katie, said that there were three new cheeses today. She laid them out expertly on a marble-topped trolley in the cool room. "That's three more to teach the waiters how to explain and pronounce. I'll have to ring up the cheese man and check myself first. We don't want to look like eejits."
Derry smiled at her. If she were to say that to the camera, it would be very endearing. Ella had been right. Following a day in the restaurant was a good way to let the story unfold.
Ella! She was going to be fine. She had promised to ring if she wasn't.
Ella wanted to be alone. She needed to think. She did not need
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endless helpful voices of friends telling her she was all right and that it was all right and everything was going to be all right. None of these things was true.
Don Richardson was coming after her. Or was he?
Could she take Sasha seriously? She needed to talk to somebody. It wasn't fair to wear Derry down with it all again. Perhaps Don would go to her parents" house.
She called her mother. And discovered that he had just left.
"How was he, Mother?"
The question seemed to upset Barbara Brady. "He was ... well, he was all right."
"No, Mother, I mean it."
"Well, what do you want to know? He wasn't pale or anxious .. ."
"I mean, was he sane or did he look as if he were going to come after me with a cleaver?"
"He thinks he's coming after you with an offer you can't refuse. He thinks you're going back to him."
"Then you've answered my question, Mother. He's far from sane and we must bring in the cavalry."
She phoned the Fraud Squad. They had heard. He would be in custody by evening.
Dee wasn't able to come to the phone, her message said. Ella saw Nick and Sandy watching her covertly through the glass door .. . she couldn't wait like this in a trap until he arrived. She had to get out. But she knew they wouldn't let her.
Leaving her jacket over the back of her chair and her handbag on the desk so that they would think she was coming back, she took her telephone and her wallet with her. She slipped out to the bathroom and to the side door into the lane. They would be annoyed, but she had to be alone. She hailed a cab and asked to be taken to Stephen's Green. From the back of the cab she dialled directory enquiries and got Michael Martin's number. She got through straight away.
"Yes?" he said crisply.
"Tell him to stop looking. I'm on my way to Stephen's Green. I'll be beside the duck pond. I'll see him there."
"Yeah, you and half the Guards in Ireland."
If they're there it's not because I'll have brought them," she said and hung up.
"You okay?" the driver asked, looking at her in the mirror.
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CI don't know," Ella said. "Why do you ask?" "You're shivering. You've no coat. You look worried." "All of these things are true," Ella agreed. "So?"
"So I have to do something I don't want to do and I'm a little bit afraid," she said.
"Take someone with you," the driver suggested.
"I can't."
"You've got a phone. Then tell someone where you're going."
"But I don't want anyone coming in and interrupting it."
"You're in a mess then, aren't you," the driver said agreeably.
"I am indeed," she said.
Derry King walked back to the building where the major painting job was taking place. He saw the professional sign for the painters. His father could have been part of this firm, lived in this city. Derry could have grown up here. But then, if he had, he might well have been like that boy Buzzo, cleaning out dustbins, making tea on sites before school. Like his own childhood in New York.
He saw two men walking towards a van with the name Kennedy on it. They stood discussing a sheaf of papers, some attached to clipboards. He watched them for a long time with a lump in his throat. They were square men like himself, same bristly hair, a little taller than he was, but they had the same lines coming out like stars around the eyes. You would not need a college degree in genetics to know that these were his relations.
He should be their friend. They were, after all, the sons of brothers. But there was so much to regret. To try to forget. He would walk way.
At that moment they looked over. He couldn't run.
"Scan? Michael?" he said.
"Well, Derry, you came to see us at last," said one of them.
"You knew me?" He didn't know wh ether to be pleased or outraged.
"Of course we did."
"Kim, I suppose?" he said.
"Well, she did show us a photo of you when she was here, but that was a while ago, and anyway, aren't you the spit of us?"
"That's right."
Derry still seemed uneasy.
The bigger man said, "Now it's easy for us to know you. There's
Ionly one of you. You don't have an idea which of us is which. I'm Scan and this is Michael, the brains of it all, and can we buy you breakfast?"
"I've been eating breakfast for hours," he said with a half-smile.
"It's the one meal you can't overeat on, they say." Scan was eager. Touchingly eager to treat the cousin who had ignored them for decades.
He looked from one to the other. "You don't seem surprised to see me," he said.
"Kimberly sent us a message saying you might be here and to look out for you," said Michael.
"And one of the painters said there was a Yank who was the dead image of us, ask
ing about us in the cafe," added Sean.
And they laughed like old family friends as they went to Derry's third breakfast of the day.
Possibly ducks were not as content as they looked. Maybe they were up to their little feathered armpits with worry, but they looked fairly sound, Ella thought. As if they had it sorted.
She looked around. There was no sign of him yet.
She sat down on a bench and found a paper bag with the remains of someone's breakfast croissant. Normally she would have been appalled at the Dublin litter problem. Now she could give it to these quacking ducks as she pleased. Maybe it was what they called an Act of Random Kindness to leave the bag there.
She saw people moving around, some of them hurrying, others idling. None of them was Don. And yet she knew he would come. He had moved so quickly from Spain. He must be desperate to find her. Perhaps he had known she was lying when she spoke to him last night about having given the laptop in already. He must have flown out of Spain immediately, gone by London possibly. What passport had he used?
Suddenly she felt frightened. Why had she arranged to meet him here?
She dialled the number of Derry King's mobile. It was up on the screen, but she needed to press the green button for it to start ringing. Before she could do that she saw Don. He was moving towards her, arms out.
"Angel," he cried. "Oh, Angel, nothing matters now. I'm just so glad to see you again."
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Derry didn't know how the day passed, so much happened, so much was seen and noted. Even in his busiest days setting up his own business in the USA, he had not met so many people in the space of one day.
His cousins brought him back to their headquarters and explained the business from the ground up. How it had seemed such a great idea to hire themselves out to builders as master painters, to put a seal on their work as it were. But there were problems.
They told him unemotional stories about their own father, now dead, and their mother, who was in an old people's home and would love to see him, but maybe in another visit, not this one. They pushed him not at all and he felt he had known them all his life.
He went back to Quentins to follow how the day was unfolding there. He met the staff, saw them learning the names and nature of the new cheeses, watched the clever switching of tables as bookings changed minutes before lunch was served. And noted the clockwork precision of the kitchen, where everything had its own rhythm.
Derry saw Brenda on the phone and she told him she had just heard that Don Richardson was in Dublin.
"Does Ella know?" he asked immediately.
"Apparently so, she's safe at Firefly Films. With Nick and Sandy." .
"He didn't waste much time," Derry said.
"No, I suppose he thought he'd better run in before the Guards got their paperwork ready," Brenda said.
"If he sees her ..." Derry began.
"He won't."
"No, but if he does, do you think she might go back to him?"
Brenda noticed what she thought was more than a professional interest in the question. His face was very concerned. Wishing she believed what she was saying, she assured Derry that there wasn't a chance in hell that Ella would look at that man again.
"Hallo, Don." Ella's voice was flat. "Oh, my darling Ella." "No, Don, none of that." "But nothing's changed. There's been such hell and I know that I
put you through it, but I had to. So that in the end we would be..."
"No, Don, you didn't. You didn't have to do anything."
"It's going to be all right now, Angel. You and I can go away now. We'll get that money your mother and father wouldn't take, that will get us abroad anywhere, then with the computer we can get everything sorted out."
She looked at him in disbelief. He really meant it. He thought it was possible that she would drop everything and run away with him.
What did he think her life had been like for all these months, what kind of grasp on reality did he have?
She looked at his face, wondering how he could be so confident and loving. He really did think she was going with him.
"I can't believe that you're here, Don, walking right back into the lion's den .. ."
"You didn't give it to them, Ella. I know your voice. I know everything about you, honestly I do. I know "what you're like asleep and awake. I think of you all the time. I know every heartbeat. I can tell when you're lying, when you're frightened. I never knew anyone as well as I know you. I know every breath you take." He "was shaking now, trembling, and there "was a heavy sweat on his forehead.
Suddenly she got frightened. She pressed the green button on her phone, which was behind her. She could hear the number being dialled. Please God, may Derry be there. Please may he hear me.
"Don, believe me, I'm not going away with you," she began.
"You are of course, Angel Ella, and we'll be together as we were always meant to be."
She could hear something click on the phone behind her. May it be Derry picking up.
"I didn't come out to meet you in Stephen's Green to talk about this, Don," she said.
"Why did you come then, if you don't love me, want to go away with me to have a life together? Why else did you come?"
"To say goodbye and to say sorry, I suppose."
"Sorry? You're not saying sorry for anything, Angel. You haven't given anything to anyone. It's all somewhere waiting for us to collect."
"No. I gave it in."
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"Before or after you talked to me?"
"After," she said, looking at the ground.
He smiled almost dreamily. "I knew, I was right about that, that I could tell when you were lying."
"Well, can you tell now? Can you tell that this much is true .. . that as soon as I put the phone down I rang the Fraud Squad and they came round and took the laptop. And we went and got the bag from the safe deposit. And they took that too." She looked at his face. He did believe it now.
"Why did you do this to me?"
"To have the courage to look you in the face and say it's over and you should give yourself up. Say you're sorry. Put your hands up. There has to be something that can be rescued. Do your time, give the boys some dignity in their father. And your wife, too, for that matter."
His face seemed contorted now. "Will you shut up. Do you hear me? Shut up, mouthing these pious wishes. Are you going to come in and visit me in the gaol for twenty-five years and wait until you are an old woman?"
She was very scared of him now, afraid that he would hit her. "I'm only just up the road from you," she shouted over her shoulder, hoping it would reach the phone behind her.
"What are you talking about?" he cried.
I'm saying where I am to stop myself being frightened of you, Don, and the horrible look in your eyes. I'm in Stephen's Green beside the ducks. That's where I am, and I'm not afraid. It's the middle of Dublin City. You're not going to add to all you've done by hurting me."
"Hurt you, Angel? Are you mad? I love you," he cried.
"No, you never loved me. I know that now."
"I came back for you
"You came back for your computer," she said.
His eyes seemed very mad. Had they ever been like this before?
"Go away, Don," she said in a weary voice. "Please, go away."
"Not without you."
"You don't want me any more. I've given away what you thought I had. You should never have come back."
"You are such a stupid, stupid fool, Angel."
"Oh, yes, Don, I was, I know that now."
He was very near her and he looked totally out of control. "You could have had everything, Angel, anything you wanted."
"I want you to go. Maybe you might even get away. Escape before they catch you. You've plenty of friends who'll hide you."
"Not so many nowadays, Angel. Not without the computer."
Then she saw people moving towards them. Out of the shadows, behind the trees and bushes of the park. The mother duck had taken
the little ducklings away from the scene as if she knew it wasn't the place for them to be. A place where a grown man sobbed like a child to policemen and howled out, "I did it for you, Angel. I did it all for you."
And here Ella Brady trembled and shook in the arms of Derry King, who held her as if he was never going to let her go.
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Chapter Sixteen.
The meeting in Quentins that night was cancelled. There had been too much drama. No one could concentrate on a possible film documentary when real life itself had been so full of passion and fear. Over and over, people told each other the events of the evening. Nick and Sandy told Deirdre how they had run out to get a taxi to Stephen's Green when they heard from Derry what was happening. Brenda and Patrick told Tom and Cathy how Blouse had been crossing Stephen's Green on his way back to the restaurant and had seen it all. There was Mr Richardson crying out and roaring like a child. Barbara Brady told anyone who would listen that she had finally found her courage and her voice possibly when it was too late. But she would remember for ever that she stood up to Don and told him she didn't care what happened to him in the future.
Sasha was told by her uncle Mike Martin that she was to unpack at once and re-establish herself in the Killiney house. Mike Martin himself was going abroad. Mr Richardson would not be coming back, and the best move was to establish squatter's rights immediately.
Nuala rang Deirdre to say that two of Frank's brothers had been in Stephen's Green also, in case the laptop was being handed over. They had been phoned by Mike Martin as a last-ditch stand. They had been horrified by Don's behaviour, and said that Ella had hired an American lawyer to protect her interests.
Square kind of a fellow called King.
There were photographs in the morning's paper of Don Richardson in custody and some eye-witness accounts of the scene. But there was one picture of Ella captioned "woman being consoled at the scene". Only those who knew her recognised her. Neither the press nor the public made any connection with Love Nest Ella of many months back. Except Harriet, who had met Ella on the plane to New York. She might get a couple of hundred euros if she rang a newspaper and tipped them off. But still, Ella was a nice kid. She deserved a break.
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