High Potential

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High Potential Page 16

by Ber Carroll


  ‘It must be – all the names fit.’

  ‘What age is she?’

  ‘Sixty. That would make you fifty-five and Carmel fifty-six. Is that right?’

  ‘Yes . . . Yes . . .’ Liz was becoming rattled by the mounting evidence. ‘But it doesn’t make sense at all . . . Why would Mam and Dad say she was dead?’

  She stared at Katie but Katie didn’t have the answer.

  A few moments passed.

  ‘Rose must have eloped,’ said Liz in answer to her own question. ‘And they were so furious they cut her off, pretended she was dead and gone. Could that be it? How cruel of them!’

  ‘Maybe they were cruel to be kind . . .’ Katie suggested, not quite believing it.

  ‘No!’ Liz was vehement. ‘Your grandparents were cruel, Katie. And pious. A lethal combination that made life miserable for Carmel and me. As soon as we had the means, we lost no time in getting out of there. It seems that Rose was just faster off the mark than we were . . .’

  Liz started to cry, sobs strangling her words.

  ‘I can’t believe it . . . Rose has been alive and well all these years . . . It’s too much to take in . . .’

  Shock was setting in and Katie felt terribly guilty for not calling ahead, for not giving her warning.

  Feeling helpless she asked, ‘Did you have no idea that she might be alive?’

  ‘I was only twelve . . . and Carmel thirteen,’ Liz replied in little gasps. ‘We weren’t brought up . . . to question what we were told . . . Looking back, we were so naive that we bordered on stupid . . .’

  Liz’s crying intensified. It was as though once she’d started, she couldn’t stop.

  ‘Is . . . Rose . . . happy?’

  ‘Yes,’ Katie assured her. ‘She and Dad have a good marriage and a wide circle of friends.’

  ‘What was it like for them . . . you know . . . in Australia?’

  ‘I think the first few years were tough. They didn’t have much, but they’re comfortable now.’

  ‘How many children?’

  ‘Just Stephen and me.’

  But for the most part, Liz was too upset to ask coherent questions or impart more than erratic information. It became clear to Katie that her aunt needed time to get over the shock.

  ‘Here’s my phone number in Dublin,’ she said, writing it on a slip of paper. ‘I’m there most evenings.’

  ‘Can you give me Rose’s number?’

  Katie had no option but to be honest.

  ‘I didn’t tell her that I was coming here,’ she confessed. ‘She was always so secretive about Ireland. And the more secretive she was, the more curious I became . . .’

  Liz managed a watery smile. ‘You must take after your Aunt Carmel. She’s always been a nosy bat!’

  ‘Are you all right?’ asked Jim when Katie slid in next to him.

  She answered with a nod. She didn’t have the energy to speak. After an hour, two cups of tea, and torrents of tears, there was only one thing that was clear to her: she had not just found her aunt, but also Stephen’s aunt, Rose’s sister and Frankie’s sister-in-law. Not to mention Carmel in England, her husband, her three children, two grandchildren, and the crisscross of relationships that came with them too.

  The silence in the car restored Katie’s equilibrium, and eventually she told Jim everything that had happened with Liz. She imparted the information in a sporadic manner. She’d tell him something, then be exhausted from the vast implications of that one thing and revert back to silence. A few miles on, she’d tell him something else. He didn’t ask questions and she, for once in her life, didn’t analyse.

  ‘Enough about me and my screwed-up family,’ she yawned when they were about an hour outside Dublin. ‘Let’s play a game.’

  ‘I spy?’ he laughed.

  ‘No. Two truths, one lie. And it’s your turn.’

  He waited to speak until he had overtaken a car that was going about twenty miles less than the speed limit.

  ‘Country drivers,’ he muttered before asking, ‘Where were we? Oh yes, the game . . . I’ve wanted to kiss you ever since that night you walked into the function room in Darling Harbour. You were soaked through but you still looked so – defiant – as if you were saying, “Stuff the lot of you!” ’

  ‘Mmm,’ she leant back in her seat, ‘I hope that one is true.’

  ‘When we’re both back in Sydney, I’m going to take you for a drink in the Oyster Bar, right on Circular Quay, where we can look at the ferries come and go and spend a lazy afternoon mulling over the differences between Dublin and Sydney.’

  ‘I like that one too,’ she smiled.

  ‘And I’m going to take you to soccer and rugby games every weekend . . .’

  ‘That’s the lie.’

  ‘Maybe not every weekend . . .’

  Her heart tripped at the thought of spending weekends with him. ‘I can bring a book, read while you watch the game . . .’

  He laughed and eased the car to a halt at the first red traffic light on the outskirts of the city.

  ‘Can you stay tonight, Jim?’ she asked softly.

  ‘I’m sorry.’ He turned to give her his full gaze. ‘I’d like nothing better than to spend the night with you – but I promised Laura’s family that I’d call around.’

  ‘Will I see you tomorrow before your flight?’

  ‘I wish I could say yes . . .’

  Disappointment mingled with her tiredness and she closed her eyes for a little while. The car sped along, encountering mostly green lights, as though some higher power was wishing Jim away from her.

  She opened her eyes, curiosity getting the better of her exhaustion, and asked, ‘Do you mind me asking what Laura was like?’

  ‘No – I know how nosy you are.’ He cast an affectionate sideways look at her. ‘Laura was lots of fun, a child at heart.’

  ‘What did she look like?’

  ‘Pretty. Long straight brown hair. Medium height.’

  ‘Would she mind about us? About you being with someone else?’

  ‘I’m quite certain that she’d be happy for me.’

  It seemed no time at all before he pulled up outside her apartment. He undid his seatbelt and leant across to take her in his arms. His face was sincere as he promised, ‘Seven more weeks, then you and I will finally be in the same city.’

  He was right. Seven weeks was nothing in the scheme of things. So why was she hugging him as if this would be the last time?

  Chapter 21

  Deep down, Katie still held out some hope that Jim’s family commitments would miraculously disappear and he would drop into the clinic the next day. Just to say hello. Or goodbye. She didn’t care what. But no matter how many times she looked at the door, or how hard she tried to will him to walk through it, he didn’t show.

  All in all the day wasn’t very busy, mainly because Ted had given his permission for the graduate to stay on a trial basis. Her name was Sarah. Just twenty-two years old and very eager to learn, the dynamics of the office were totally changed by her presence.

  ‘I’ll research that for you, Katie.’

  ‘I can write that letter for you if you like, Mags.’

  ‘Anyone for a tea, coffee?’

  As soon as Sarah left the room, Mags took advantage of their first moment alone to ask, ‘How did you get down to Cork in the end?’

  Katie decided to be honest. ‘Jim drove me.’

  Mags went back to the matter she was researching without commenting. Her disapproval didn’t need to be voiced, it was already loud and clear. Katie struggled to understand it. Did Mags believe that Jim would always be Laura’s? Did she find it hard to think of him with someone else?

  Sarah burst into the room carrying a tray of steaming coffees. Mags smiled as she took hers. The atmosphere cleared somewhat but a residue was left behind, a tension.

  There was no need to work late that evening – everything was smack up to date with Sarah’s extra pair of hands. It was five-thirty when Ka
tie opened the door of her apartment. She put down her briefcase and walked to the bedroom, where she changed into her most comfortable old jeans. At five forty-five she went to the kitchen and defrosted some bolognese. At six-fifteen she loaded the dirty dishes into the dishwasher. Ten minutes later she switched on the television and at the same time opened her novel at the marked page. Never had she felt at such a loose end. For the first time in a week there would be no texts or phone calls from Jim, and somehow her book or the TV didn’t seem enough to fill the hours before she went to bed.

  Then the phone rang. She pounced on it.

  ‘Katie, it’s Liz here.’

  ‘Hello, Liz.’

  ‘Is this a good time to call?’

  ‘Yes, it’s fine.’

  ‘I got such a shock yesterday.’ Liz sounded a little breathless, as if she was nervous. ‘When you left I realised there was so much that I didn’t know, that I hadn’t thought to ask you.’

  ‘Ask anything you want,’ said Katie as she took the phone over to the sofa and leant back into the cushions.

  ‘What’s your dad like?’

  ‘He’s big. Blocky, not fat. He likes reading newspapers and watching sport. He adores the ground that Mum walks on.’

  ‘Who is the eldest, you or Stephen?’

  ‘Stephen – he’s five years older.’

  ‘Married?’

  ‘No,’ Katie laughed, ‘despite all our best efforts.’

  ‘What does he work at?’

  ‘He works with Dad – he’s an engineer.’

  ‘And you’re a lawyer.’ Liz was impressed. ‘You must be a very brainy family.’

  Katie laughed again as she asked, ‘Does that come from the Carey side of the family or the Horgans?’

  ‘The Careys, of course,’ replied Liz without missing a beat. She had a nice laugh, a girlish giggle that made it impossible not to join in.

  ‘And Rose, what does she do?’

  ‘She helps Dad with the business. And she cooks, gardens and fusses over Stephen and me.’

  There was a brief silence and Katie assumed that Liz’s curiosity was at least temporarily satiated.

  ‘Do you work, Liz?’ she asked.

  ‘I retired earlier this year. I was with Bank of Ireland for thirty-seven years – I enjoyed it. I wasn’t at all sure about taking early retirement when it was offered, but it was a generous offer and I thought I could use the money to travel. I’m a bit long in the tooth to see the world but I suppose it’s better late than never. I’m going to France in October and who knows where after that.’

  ‘That sounds great,’ said Katie. ‘You’re so lucky to have Europe on your doorstep.’

  Liz sounded regretful as she admitted, ‘I never took advantage of the proximity before now. I went from Portmarnock to Cork and no further. Of course, I asked the bank for the transfer down here. Carmel had gone to England years before and I thought I’d better get away from my father while I still had the nerve.’

  A quiet descended and the mood became markedly more sober.

  ‘Was it that bad at home?’ asked Katie.

  ‘You know, I’ve questioned myself many times over the years,’ said Liz, her voice thoughtful. ‘I’ve gone over my memories one by one, trying to be objective, trying to account for the fact that they were different times. But no amount of reasoning can justify their actions . . .’

  ‘Like what?’ Katie couldn’t help prompting.

  It took Liz a few moments to respond.

  ‘The sixties were a revolutionary time in Ireland. Women were starting to think for themselves, become independent. In the summertime the village was full of girls wearing miniskirts – some smoked, others would kiss their boyfriends in full public view. Your grandfather felt the world was changing for the worst. He was determined that his daughters wouldn’t flaunt themselves like those brazen girls in the village. He made our house a prison. We weren’t allowed to see our friends after school or go to parties, and we didn’t dare wear lipstick. When we left school and went out to work, we’d always have to be on the six o’clock bus home.’

  Katie couldn’t help but notice that Liz called him ‘your grandfather’ rather than ‘Dad’. It was as if she had totally disassociated herself from the man.

  ‘Why didn’t you leave home sooner?’ she asked.

  ‘A number of reasons,’ Liz sighed on the other end of the line. ‘When you live with a tyrant you doubt yourself and your ability to survive without him. But money was also a factor. Our wages were poor, and after we had paid board at home, there wasn’t much left to save. It was easier for Carmel, they were crying out for nurses over in London and the hospital paid her fare. I was twenty-five before I got the money together. I only just had enough to pay four weeks’ rent on a tiny bedsit in Cork. I can clearly remember that first night away from home. I cooked myself a chop and potato for dinner, then I lay on the bed reading until midnight. I wasn’t one bit lonely.’

  Listening to Liz, Katie was at last starting to understand her mother’s reluctance to talk about her family in Ireland. But, regardless of the tyranny of her father, what about her mother, Maureen? Surely some kind of long-distance relationship could have been salvaged with her before she died?

  ‘Your grandmother never once disagreed with him,’ said Liz as if reading her thoughts. ‘She was a cold woman – very detached. I remember very clearly what she said when Rose “died”. “You’re not to mention her. She’s gone. No amount of crying will bring her back.” ’

  ‘That was cruel,’ Katie exclaimed.

  ‘Yes,’ Liz said bitterly, ‘I told you they were cruel.’

  In the end it was after nine when Katie hung up the phone. She felt exhausted in the very same way she had when she left Liz’s house. There was so much to take in, the implications so far-reaching that they were downright daunting.

  I know I should call Mum, but I’m too tired now. Tomorrow.

  She closed the novel that she hadn’t read, turned off the television that she hadn’t watched, and went to bed.

  She knew it was cowardice, but the next morning she tried Stephen first. She thought that by answering his questions she would be better prepared for Rose. Still in her pyjamas, she sat cross-legged on the bed as she waited for him to answer. His phone rang through to his voicemail. She didn’t leave a message.

  Looks like I have to jump in cold, she thought and dialled the number for home.

  Rose answered straightaway. ‘Hello, love. You’re up early today.’

  She had worked out the time difference and established that it was just after 6 am in Dublin.

  Katie could have made small talk. She could have told Rose that the sky outside was a curious mix of grey and white as dawn crept across the city, or that the sound of traffic on the quay had woken her before the alarm clock. However, she said only what was relevant.

  ‘I’ve met Liz Carey.’

  Not surprisingly, the announcement was met with stunned silence.

  ‘Mum?’ she prompted a few moments later when there was still no reaction from Rose.

  ‘Mum?’

  A stifled sob came down the line.

  ‘Mum? Are you okay?’

  Even while she was asking the question her conscience was screaming, She’s not okay, you idiot! She’s crying!

  ‘I told Frankie . . .’ Rose was crying so hard that Katie could hardly make out what she was saying, ‘I told him this would happen . . . that you’d go digging around . . .’

  ‘But I’ve found your sister,’ Katie reminded her. ‘That’s good, isn’t it?’

  ‘No, it’s not good!’ Rose shrieked. ‘How many times must I tell you? Everything is not for you to know!’

  Never had she heard her mother so upset. Or so angry. She had no option but to defend her actions.

  ‘Liz is my aunt, Mum. I think I have every right to know her.’

  Her logic seemed to make Rose even more angry.

  ‘You don’t care who you hurt, do you?
’ she accused. ‘As long as you get what you want.’

  ‘That’s not fair, Mum.’ Katie tried to restore some calm. ‘I understand how you feel – Liz told me about your parents, how cruel they were. But they’re dead now. And Liz, Carmel and Carmel’s family are alive –’

  She was cut off by the sound of the dial tone. Rose had hung up. It seemed that the most caring and loving of mothers didn’t want to know about her sisters. It just didn’t make sense.

  Katie put the phone down and went to the bathroom for a shower. She dressed for work and sipped a coffee to the end of the cup. She lingered for as long as she could without making herself late, but Rose didn’t call back.

  That day was another quiet one at the office. It wasn’t just Sarah’s contribution that made the difference: there were noticeably fewer clients.

  ‘It’s so hard to predict,’ Mags remarked in the afternoon. She tapped her pen as she spoke, her face flushed. The afternoon sun streamed through the metal grilles on the window and the room felt unusually suffocating.

  ‘From what I’ve seen, we seem to be busier early on in the week,’ said Katie. Today, of all days, she needed the distraction of being busy. But they’d had only two people come in so far, and there was nothing to stop those awful words with Rose from replaying in her head. She couldn’t brush them off, couldn’t claim that the hurt caused was totally unintentional. Because she’d known from the outset that she was going against her mother’s wishes. But she’d gone ahead anyway.

  ‘Maybe you could introduce appointments for the quiet days,’ Sarah suggested. ‘It might help spread the load.’

  Mags stopped tapping her pen. ‘That might be an idea.’

  Katie’s mobile phone started to vibrate with an incoming call. She picked it up.

  ‘Is Liz happy?’ asked the ragged voice at the end of the line. Rose.

  ‘Excuse me,’ said Katie to Sarah and Mags. ‘I need to take this outside.’

  As she walked down the narrow hallway, she registered that Rose and Liz had asked the same question. Happiness was the summation of everything, the fastest way to bridge forty years apart.

 

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