by Cat Hogan
Scott had also passed a few comments the night before. He seemed not to like Jen much, but Scott had always been so protective of him – to the point where it smothered him sometimes. He figured he was just looking out for him. Sharon and Scott had been great friends initially, but she had cooled in her affections towards him over the years because of his controlling ways when it came to Andy. Maybe that’s why Scott didn’t like Jen. Once he got to know her a bit better, he would see how lovely she was.
Like an old black-and-white movie, the scene always played out in his head in the same way, waking or sleeping. Most days he could push it to the back of his mind, and make himself busy. Other days it just played over and over.
It was the summer of 2011. Andy and Sharon were headed to Achill Island for a weekend college reunion. Adele was in the charts, and ‘Someone Like You’ was Sharon’s song of choice to sing over and over on the way down in the car. They had taken the following week off work for a mini-holiday. The weather was fantastic and it was magical standing on the pier with old friends waiting for the ferry to begin the trip. The cottages couldn’t have been more amazing, the half-moon-shaped beach looking as if it was smiling between cheeks of sheer rock.
Everyone in high spirits and, as the darkness swept in on the bay, the plan was to have a few drinks in the local pub, and then go back to one of the cottages for a party. Just like the old days, and oh had they partied hard in their college days!
He and Sharon had spent most of the evening sitting on the beach, chatting. It was always like that between them, rarely a cross word. They were lucky in every respect really – a great relationship and they both had really good jobs in Galway and had bought property before the whole country went crazy.
The trouble started at around three in the morning. She had warned Andy before the weekend not to let Scott lead him astray as usual. She believed Scott was too fond of his cocaine, and she didn’t want any part in his madness. ‘Domineering’ was the word she usually used to describe him, and ‘fucking obsessive about you’ was the language of choice when things got heated. ‘The Puppeteer’ she had named him.
If only he had listened, she would still be alive. She walked in on him and Scott doing drugs in the bathroom. She could see that they had been caning it. A row ensued. Scott went back to the others at the party, and she and Andy remained in the bathroom arguing. It all came out: she was furious with him, he had been like Scott’s sheepdog all night, vying for his attention, and her being the butt of the joke. Enough was enough – first thing in the morning she was getting the ferry and going home. People leave college and grow up but Scott hadn’t and he was not taking her husband back down that road with him.
He argued the toss of course, accused her of being uptight, being a square. He was partying with his friends, some of whom he hadn’t seen since their wedding day six years before. He hadn’t even taken that much, just a couple of lines. He didn’t know what she was on about with the accusation of his ignoring her all night – she had been with the girls.
And round and round they went – all the talk of love, adventure, babies and retirement from a few short hours ago forgotten.
She stormed out eventually. He let her go and went back to the party.
He woke in his bed to the sound of the front door being banged and Scott screaming his name. The first thing he noticed was the empty bed, the second was the time – half seven. He opened the door. Scott was standing there, crying. Beside him was a Garda, asking him if he was the husband of Sharon McClean. An incident had been reported, and he needed Andy to come with him.
She looked like she was asleep on the beach where she lay. Her beautiful black hair was pasted to her face and barely hid the bruise on her temple. She wasn’t moving. Scott was saying something to him, but he couldn’t hear him. He just kept calling out her name and telling her to wake up. She looked small lying there with her head on his lap as usual. He was holding on to her cold hand and couldn’t let go. A crowd had gathered, but he didn’t recognise them. He couldn’t breathe, and all he could hear was her, singing that Adele song in his head. The rest was a blur.
A memory of the coastguard helicopter, the drone of the chopper, landing at the same hospital where she was born. The Guards, her parents clutching each other as they stared in through the glass, afraid to walk through that door. Afraid of the reality of what lay before them. The hatred in her father’s voice as he told him he had failed to take care of his little girl.
There was an investigation of course, questions to be answered. Scott had sat with him for all those hours. There wasn’t much to say to the Guards. She had left the party that night. Why had she left? Well, they’d had a row. He couldn’t mention the drugs so he had to say it was because he was drinking too much. Scott had seen her before she left. She had been so upset, he said, and a bit drunk herself. After that, he had gone back in to Andy.
The cause of death was eventually deemed to be accidental. She had gone up the cliffs. She had fallen in the semi-dark, into the sea, washing up on the beach.
But had she fallen … or was it suicide? The thought haunted Andy – as it haunted Sharon’s parents.
He watched her go into the ground on that day, in her beloved Galway, and he never went back.
The curry lay untouched in front of him, and by now it was cold. He ate it anyway and washed it down with the last of the cold tea. Back to work he went, determined to put all thoughts of Sharon and his landlady out of his head.
Chapter 13
As Andy returned to his afternoon shift, back in Dublin Scott was getting up. He had left the harbour the previous evening, in time to get to the Twisted Lemon before closing. Tess had confirmed this as the venue for Doc’s gig, and he had known it was an opportune time to get Doc involved in his little business venture.
He padded downstairs to the kitchen, in desperate need of a coffee.
Doc joined him just as the kettle had boiled.
‘Morning, Doc,’ he said without turning around. ‘Coffee?’
‘Tea if you have it handy.’ Doc was hoarse from singing and from the late night. He fired up his phone, knowing what was to come. Message after message came in. He was sick with guilt and knew he had really fucked up again. How could he have been so stupid? He had planned to leave after the gig the previous night and go straight home to his family. But then Clara, and eventually Scott, showed up. The whiskey, narcotics and his mistress had scuppered the idea of hitting the road.
Doc couldn’t believe he had given in to her charm again. She had been so upset when he told her he wanted to call it a day. What the hell am I playing at, he thought. It was all too much for him, and now Scott knew about his little indiscretions. I’m a lousy husband. I have to make this right.
‘Scott, can we talk about last night?’
Scott put the tea in front of him and smiled. Now was the time to get Doc on board.
‘Doc, what you do with your life is none of my business. I don’t care how many women you are banging, so your secret is safe with me. We are all allowed to have fun, and if that’s your fun, so be it.’
Doc didn’t reply. He was playing with his phone on the table, the screen telling him he had seven unread messages. He pulled his cigarettes out of his pocket, and Scott gestured for him to smoke where he sat.
‘Tess mentioned you were playing in the Twisted Lemon. I got back in time for the last couple of pints. When I saw you and her at the bar, I knew she was more than a groupie. I watched you for a few minutes before I joined you. You are careless. You need to cover your tracks a bit better.’
‘It’s a fucking mess. I mean, I love my wife and my son, but I really like Clara. Tess is hard work and I need a bit of fun in my life – it’s all too much.’ His guilt had turned to anger and he needed to apportion blame. He coughed out the lungful of smoke he had just inhaled. ‘Tess treats me like shit and I’ve had enough. She’s a fucking control freak and a workaholic. You can’t blame me for being flattered when a ho
t young one throws herself at me. She had been chasing me for ages and I didn’t go near her. I gave in eventually, quite a while back and now I can’t keep away from her. She didn’t want anything from me other than sex and a good time.’
So he was pretending his wife had pushed him to it – the fool, thought Scott. Tess impressed him – she was very strong and driven. He could see how someone as apathetic as Doc would drive her insane. Chalk and cheese.
‘As I said, Doc, I won’t say a word. You’re a big boy, and if that’s what you want to do, go for it. Just be a bit more discreet. And kudos to you for having two hot birds on the go at the one time. That Clara is a cracker. Total whore but a great rack on her.’
Doc laughed with relief.
‘Doc, I have a bit of a business on the side that you may be able to help me with. I keep my mouth shut about your bit on the side, and you do the same about mine.’
‘Go on, Scott, tell me more – is it legal, like?’
‘No, it’s certainly not legal, but the pay is good and all you have to do is collect the odd delivery in the harbour for me, and then deliver it where it needs to go. Do you think you can manage that for me?’
‘Hmmm, I dunno, Scott. What am I delivering, and to whom?’
‘Small deliveries of some top-grade cocaine, to some of my employees dotted around the country. You won’t have to worry about money again, and you also get a percentage of the stuff to do with as you please. Money, women and drugs, man – what’s not to like? They loved you last night at the party here – you need some fun in your life.’
Doc didn’t respond. The party the previous night had just happened. Scott knew the barman in the pub and they had stayed there for a few late drinks. Another couple of his friends arrived, and were let in the back door. It was obvious to all and sundry that Clara was with him, so they didn’t even bother hiding it. The party migrated to Scott’s apartment, and carried on until the sun came up. The reservation in the hotel had been forgotten about, and they crashed out together in Scott’s spare room. He could barely remember the names of who had been there, but it had been such good fun. He had felt so free.
By now, another two messages had come through on his phone, and he was afraid to read them. She was always moaning at him to come home – for fuck sake, he felt like a caged animal. Tired of being told what to do and when to do it. What was her problem? It wasn’t like she knew about the affair – he had dodged that bullet and in the end she had almost apologised. He didn’t think Scott would grass him up, but then again, why take the chance?
She’s your wife, Doc, and you’re having an affair. It’s no surprise she’s giving you a hard time, the voice whispered in his head. She’s your wife, you lying prick.
‘Fuck it, man, I’ll do it.’
What are you doing, Doc? Have you got a fucking death wish?
‘That’s the spirit, Doc. We’re in for one hell of a summer. Wine, women and song! And plenty of cash.’ Boom. The deal was done. Doc was in the bag.
Doc needed to get home. Better late than never, he guessed. He picked up his phone and sent a text to Tess.
Baby, really sorry. Got drunk with promoters, they showed at gig. Crashed in their place, phone died. Just awake and hitting road now. I will make it up to you – promise. See you at home XXX
‘Thanks for a great night, man. I’m back up next weekend in The Workhorse – give me a shout if you’re free.’
‘Brilliant, that sounds good to me. The code for the carpark is 3425.’
‘Fuck, I forgot I drove last night. Saves me the walk to the pub though.’ He found his jacket buried behind the cushions of the couch and gathered up his phone and cigarettes.
‘I’ll be in touch about our arrangement, Doc.’
Doc thought it sounded like a threat. He nodded and let himself out.
What are you getting yourself into here, Doc?
Scott and Clara had been quite friendly to each other the night before. If he didn’t know better, he would have thought they were already acquainted.
The bright sun hurt his eyes, and he had to search for the car in the carpark. Time to go home, and face the music.
Chapter 14
‘Something smells amazing, Jen.’ Sal threw her coat on the back of a chair and flopped down at the table. She could hear Danny and Butch upstairs having what sounded like great fun.
‘Don’t get too excited, Sal – it’s a whatever-was-left-in-the-fridge-thrown-into-pasta dinner this evening! How are ya anyway?’
Jen was at the stove stirring the sauce, and the smell of garlic bread was wafting from the oven.
‘All is good with me, painting away and feeling motivated. I’m getting lots of shit done, Jen. I think it’s the lovely weather that has put a bit of jizz in me. But, I have a bit of news. Scott rang me this morning – he has an interview lined up for me with one of his arty friends!’
‘Oh Sal, that’s great news!’ Jen rummaged around and found the corkscrew. ‘Is this the gallery person he was talking about?’ She put the corkscrew and wine bottle on the table.
Sal grinned at her. ‘Yes! Yes! Yes!’ She hopped up from the table and started dancing around the kitchen like a woman possessed. ‘I’m so fucking excited, Jen!’
‘Language, Sal.’ The stern tone of Danny’s voice made both of them laugh.
‘Sorry, Dan, you’re right – I shouldn’t use bad language.’ Gone were the days where she could sweep him up into a big hug, or spin him around the room, so she settled for giving him a kiss instead.
‘Eww, Sal, what is wrong with you?’ Danny pushed her away and started laughing. ‘Mam, I think Sal’s gone bonkers.’
‘You’re only seeing that now, Dan?’ Jen quipped. ‘Now, sit down there. Dinner is ready.’
‘Can I eat mine by the telly, Mam? I have all my homework done! I want to watch some cartoons!’
‘No, love, sit down here and you can watch them later.’
‘But, Mam!’
‘No buts, Danny, and don’t argue. I’ve told you that before. Now come on, sit down and eat.’
He sulked, and wolfed down his dinner. Five minutes later he was in front of the telly.
When he was out of earshot, the girls got on to the subject of men.
‘Well, Jen, what happened Friday night after we left? There was some serious chemistry between you two. How come you didn’t kiss the face off him?’
Of course Sal had texted her the day after the party, looking for all the juicy details, but there was nothing to tell. It was all too messy. She had thought about him a lot during the week and was feeling a bit unsteady about it. Sure, he was lovely, and really handsome, but he was leaving.
‘You were mistaken about the chemistry, Sal,’ she lied. ‘He was nice to everyone. It’s not going to happen, and I don’t want it to. Too complicated and I have Danny to think about. Let’s just leave it.’
Sal was going to respond and tell her she was just being stubborn as usual, but decided against it. She needed to broach another subject with her.
‘Scott seemed to fit in really well with everyone Jen, didn’t he? He was great fun, and there’s no denying he is fecking hot.’
‘Sal, you can’t be serious? He is a snob, and completely condescending. He is like a jealous child having to share his toys when it comes to Andy. I’m not a fan.’
‘You made that pretty obvious on the night! Honestly, I thought you were quite rude to him at times. It didn’t go unnoticed. He’s all right, Jen – you just take things way too personally sometimes.’
‘Jesus, Sal, I wasn’t rude to him. He’s just domineering and wants to be the centre of attention the whole time.’
‘That’s horseshit and you know it. He chatted to everyone and let Doc take centre-stage singing all those songs! Anyway, just give him a chance is all I’m saying. He’s Andy’s best friend at the end of the day, so he’s going to be around. Make life easy on yourself and try and get on with him!’
Jen pushed the pasta a
round her plate. ‘Sal, I just have a feeling about him, that’s all. There is something about him that makes me really uncomfortable.’
‘Jen, he’s all right. He had nothing to gain by making calls for me, but he still did it. You said yourself what a great guy Andy is, so Scott has to be decent to be his friend. Naturally enough he’s going to look out for his friend – and don’t forget Sharon was a friend of his as well. You would do the same for me if the shoe was on the other foot.’
‘OK, fair enough, Sal. I didn’t think about it that way. I’m delighted of course that he’s helping you – it’s great. For you, I’ll be nicer the next time.’
She tried to sound genuine but Sal wasn’t convinced. Changing the subject, she asked about Tess and Doc. Something had been afoot with those two that night as well. Tess seemed really on edge, and Doc got wasted pretty quickly.
‘Ah Sal, Doc is being a real pig to her. He messed up again on Sunday and they haven’t really been speaking all week. He is just out of control at the moment. Tomorrow is Friday, and he’ll be gone all weekend again. It’s crap for her at the moment.’
She didn’t mention anything about the affair, or the pregnancy for that matter. Tess had rung her in tears on Sunday, so she and Danny had gone for lunch with her. Tess had taken the day off to spend some family time together before telling him about the new arrival, and he had come home late, hungover and wrecked. She didn’t tell him.
Sal topped up the wineglasses. ‘Poor Tess! He was always so chilled out and quiet. What the hell has got into him?’