by Andrea Mara
“And Sam never said a thing all these months?”
“Nothing. I don’t know why – I wouldn’t have minded. I mean the past is the past and I already knew about the one-night stand. But she says he didn’t want to tell me until he could find the right moment.”
“And is this supposed to be the right moment?” Sylvia asks. She meets the taxi-driver’s eyes in the rear-view mirror. Even he’s interested now.
“Well, that’s just it – she thinks there’s something up with Sam. She hasn’t seen him since July, then he texted her on Sunday to break up with her, which is obviously completely bizarre. She didn’t know what to make of the message, and wondered if he’s losing it. She replied to ask if everything was okay, but he never got back. And she’s never been out to our house so didn’t know how to reach him in person.”
Sylvia shakes her head slowly. “That’s really odd. And how did she find you?”
“Apparently she’s seen photos of me and the boys, including one in their uniforms, so she worked out which school it is.”
The taxi driver interrupts to ask if he should take the next turn, and Kate confirms he should. Rain is pelting down still, and the windscreen wipers are on full.
“So that’s weird – that text she got from him. What’s that all about?” Sylvia asks.
“I don’t know. I couldn’t make any sense of it either – she even showed it to me. And there’s more – he told her he’d fallen down the stairs and couldn’t see her, because I was taking care of him. Maybe the novelty of having a surprise love-child wore off and he was trying to put distance between them – but that doesn’t explain the break-up text.” Kate pauses. “And to be honest – it wouldn’t be like Sam. He’s been a complete dick recently but, if he found out he had a child, I can’t see him rejecting her. It’s just not him. And ‘break-up’ is not the term anyone would use to reject their child! It’s all very odd.”
It’s pitch dark now and feels more like winter than early autumn. Kate shivers in her light summer coat – she’ll have to pick up some winter clothes while she’s at home. And there’s the small matter of confronting her husband about the daughter he forgot to mention, and why his cousin is pretending to the neighbours that he’s Sam. She shakes her head and wishes she’d had one less glass of wine.
The taxi driver turns the radio volume up as the news headlines come on.
“Gardaí are investigating the discovery of a body of a man in the sea at Dún Laoghaire this morning. The victim has been identified, but Gardaí are not releasing his name until all relatives have been informed. The body, that of a man in his late forties, was spotted by a local woman walking the pier this morning . . .”
Sylvia sits up straighter in the seat. “Oh my God, did you hear that? What if that’s Noel?”
“Who?”
“The guy from across the road – he’s been AWOL since last week. Rosemary and I were joking earlier that he’d done a runner with another woman. Jesus, I feel awful now for saying that.”
“Ah, it probably isn’t him,” Kate says. “You’d have heard, I’m sure, and the Guards would have been around today if it was.”
“But they were – Rosemary said two of them called into Georgia this morning. Jesus, the poor woman! God, you just never know what’s going on with people.”
“Tell me about it,” Kate says. “I appear to be married to a complete stranger. I literally have no idea what to expect next.”
“Well, if he’s pushing his daughter away, cheating on you, and has moved his cousin into your house, maybe he’s going through some kind of mid-life crisis?” Sylvia suggests. “I still can’t believe the person I’ve been calling Sam isn’t really your husband. Bizarre.”
Kate can’t believe it either. But even if Sam’s gone off the rails, surely Michael will be able to explain what’s going on? She sits back in the seat and looks out at the rain, as the taxi takes its final turn towards home.
Chapter 76
Kate – Friday, September 9th
Sylvia is still counting out money for the taxi-driver when Kate puts her key in the front door. Why is she nervous all of a sudden? Something feels odd as she steps into the hallway and it takes her a moment to realise what it is – the house is pitch dark inside. Sam is always telling her to leave the landing and hall lights on when they’re out, to make it look like they’re home. Flipping light switches as she walks through to the kitchen, she takes a moment to look around. There are two cups on the counter, and what looks like tea in the bottom of both. His girlfriend? Michael? She shrugs. It could be anyone. He’s entitled to have callers.
Sylvia comes through to the kitchen and they stand looking at one another for a moment. What now? After the dramatic race to a taxi, it feels anti-climactic.
“I don’t think there’s anyone home,” Kate says. “Maybe I should check upstairs now that I’m here, though?”
Sylvia nods. Kate doesn’t move.
“Will I go up with you?” Sylvia asks.
“Yes. Do. I know, ridiculous. It’s my own house. But it feels a bit creepy tonight.”
Upstairs, Kate puts on the light in her bedroom and looks around. There’s no outward sign of any girlfriend – she’s being more careful about where she leaves her stuff. Kate opens the wardrobe. Nothing but Sam’s suits, all pristine in their dry-cleaning bags. She pulls out a drawer in his locker as Sylvia watches from the doorway. The usual jumble of old receipts, half-eaten packets of sweets and loose coins. She closes it, then moves to the dresser at the far wall and opens the top drawer. Inside, there’s a mix of black and grey T-shirts. She lifts one out and holds it up. Putting it down on the bed, she takes out another. None of these are Sam’s – unless he’s completely changed taste in clothes along with everything else. But no – sports-logo T-shirts were never his thing – he’s a polo-shirt guy through and through. So, are these Michael’s? And why if he’s staying here would he be in the main bedroom instead of the spare room? None of it makes any sense. She takes out her phone and hits the button to call Sam. Enough is enough. But her phone clatters to the floor when the familiar sound of Sam’s ringtone blares out from the top of the dresser – it’s vibrating and turning like a distressed beetle, balanced on top of the metal dish she uses for her rings. She grabs it and disconnects the call.
“I’m getting jumpy. This house is freaking me out tonight for some reason,” she says, putting Sam’s phone back on the dresser. “Why doesn’t he have his phone with him? Maybe we should just go. I’ll call him tomorrow to find out what’s going on with Michael.” She points at the clothes on the bed. “They’re all Michael’s – well, they’re not Sam’s. But if he is staying here, why wouldn’t he have his stuff in the spare room – odd, isn’t it?”
“Should we take a look in the spare room?” Sylvia suggests.
“Okay. It was locked last time I was here though.” Kate walks past Sylvia and tries the handle of the spare-room door.
This time it opens. If Michael has been staying here, is it rude to go in? She’ll just have a small look. And after all, it’s still her house. She pushes the door open and switches on the light and that’s when she sees him. He’s pale and gaunt and has lost some of his hair, and he’s wearing an old T-shirt she’s never seen before that’s far too big for him. He’s lying back against the pillows, with a duvet thrown over his legs. She takes a step closer. His arms lie by his side, on top of a grey, dirty sheet. There’s something tied around his left arm – a small belt of some kind. And needle marks all over his skin.
“Sam!” she whispers, taking a step towards him. “Sam! Wake up!” She shakes him, but there’s no movement other than a very slight rise and fall of his chest. There’s a bottle on the bedside locker with something called midazolam inside according to the label. She holds it up to show Sylvia. “He must be on some kind of drugs – or is he sick?” She turns again to Sam. “Oh my God, I’ve never seen him like this – Sam, wake up!” She grabs him by the shoulders and shakes harde
r now.
His eyes flicker slightly but stay closed.
“Pass me the bottle – I’ll google it,” Sylvia says. “Shit, I left my bag on the table downstairs – give me your phone too.”
Kate puts her mouth to Sam’s ear. “Sam, wake up – I don’t know what’s going on but I think you’ve taken too much of whatever that is. Come on, Sam, wake up!”
“It’s a sedative,” Sylvia says. “It says here it can cause breathing problems or respiratory arrest or death if used without close medical supervision. Kate, we need to call an ambulance.”
“Do it, call.” She’s slapping his cheeks now, and his eyelids are flickering again but he’s still out. “Sam, for fuck’s sake, wake up – what the fuck have you been doing to yourself!” she shouts, pulling the duvet off him.
She claps her hand over her mouth when she sees his legs. His left knee is twisted and his lower leg is lying at an unnatural angle, not straight down as it should be.
“Sam, what happened?” Now she’s yelling, and she might be crying, but she doesn’t know.
This time his eyes open. They show no recognition – he seems dazed. He stares at her – then suddenly, like a light going on, he sees her.
“Kate.” His voice is barely there.
She leans close to him.
“Yes, it’s me. Oh Sam, what have you done?”
“Kate,” he whispers again, and closes his eyes.
“Did you get an ambulance? Are they coming?” she calls behind her to Sylvia.
“They’re coming – I told them it’s a possible overdose – they’re on the way. Oh my God, what happened to his poor legs?”
Tears are streaming down Kate’s face now. “I don’t know. I don’t know.” She turns back to him “Oh Sam. Stay awake, please stay awake. I’m here now.”
“Kate,” he says, one more time, through barely parted lips, and she hears the sound of a siren in the distance.
Chapter 77
Kate – Friday, September 9th
“Sylvia, can you lock up the house?”
Sylvia nods. Kate’s hands are shaking and she can’t find her keys in her bag. The paramedic tells her they need to go, and starts to close the ambulance door. “I can’t find them – the bloody keys. Look, the house will be fine. I’ll call you from the hospital.”
Sylvia nods again and the door is closed.
Kate watches her through the ambulance window, growing smaller in the distance as they pull away at speed. The paramedic is checking Sam’s blood pressure and asking her something but she doesn’t hear.
“Sorry, I said do you have the bottle with you?”
“The bottle?”
“The midazolam. Just so we can see if that’s what it is – sometimes drugs end up in wrong bottles or with incorrect labels.”
“Shit, sorry, no, I didn’t think to take it. My God, will he be all right?”
“The doctors will talk to you once he’s in hospital and stable.”
Kate takes his hand. “Sam, don’t you go doing anything ridiculous like dying on me now. Whatever you’ve done, we can get past it. You can’t leave the boys without a dad – they miss you horribly. I didn’t tell you, because I wanted to hurt you, but my God they’re missing you. So don’t fucking think of dying on me!”
The paramedic touches her arm. Her voice is soft. “The doctors will give you the full picture, but I can tell you his sats are good – please don’t worry.”
Kate nods, still gripping Sam’s hand. Through the rain-splashed window she watches her neighbours’ houses zip by – they’re all tucked up with wine and TV and early autumn fires, and no idea what’s going on outside their walls or inside hers.
Her phone buzzes in her pocket and on autopilot now, she takes it out. A text from Miller. Jesus Christ, he picks his moments.
Hi Kate, how are you? I just want to check if you’ve seen Sam – I called again and there’s still no answer. I know you think I’m just being annoying calling all the time, but I’m a bit worried about him. Can you check in on him?
Oh God. Now she really is going to cry. The one person who spotted that something was up with Sam, and she ignored him completely. And yet he kept trying, no matter how shitty her replies. Her eyes are blurred and her thumbs awkward as she types.
Miller, I’ll text u properly later but please don’t ever change, love Kate
The ambulance slows to go over the speed bump at the main entrance to the estate, and Sam opens his eyes again. He whispers something but she can’t hear.
She bends closer. “Say it again?”
“Michael.”
“What about Michael?”
“Guards. Call Guards.”
“Has something happened to him too? What is it, Sam?”
He closes his eyes again but he’s gripping her hand now. “Michael – did – this.”
“Did this? What did he do, Sam?”
“Did – this – to – me.”
“Jesus Christ!”
She turns to the paramedic. “Please – would the drug make him confused – hallucinate maybe?”
“If it’s midazolam, it can cause memory loss. And, if he’s been on it a while and coming off it, it can cause hallucinations. But it looks like he’s still on it, so I don’t know. If he’s telling you to call the Guards, I’d take that on face value and call them.”
My God. What on earth would make Michael do this? Trembling, Kate takes out her phone and finds the number for the local Garda station. The story isn’t easy to explain. She tells the desk sergeant that her husband appears to have been injured and drugged and that his cousin Michael Boyle may be responsible. Michael is out at the moment but will be home later – possibly to her house at 26 Willow Valley or maybe to his flat in Chiswick Street in the city centre. Even as she says it, it sounds ludicrous.
But they record the details matter of factly. They will try to locate him.
Disconnecting the call, she turns her attention back to Sam. “Sam, can you hear me?”
He opens his eyes and gives her hand a small squeeze.
“Did Michael do this to you?”
The nod is brief but enough.
“My God, why?”
He opens his mouth to answer but can’t seem to find the words.
“Okay, don’t worry,” Kate says. “I’ve called the Guards and given them his address. I know he’s at the game in Belton tonight but there’s no point in them trying to find him there. They’ll pick him up and find out what’s going on. Dear God, how could he do this?”
“Sorry – I couldn’t help overhearing,” the paramedic says, “but that game was cancelled earlier. There was a suspicious device in the stadium and they had to call in the army, so it never went ahead. Just in case that matters.”
Kate picks up her phone again and clicks into Facebook. Michael’s photo is still there.
Looking forward to a good game tonight – great atmosphere here at Belton already.
“You mean they had to send everyone home during the game?”
“No, it never went ahead at all – word went out on the radio earlier that it was cancelled and people shouldn’t turn up. Traffic was chaos then around there, because some people were already on the way and trying to turn back.” The paramedic shrugs. “Of course it was nothing in the end – it never is.” She pauses for a second. “Not that I mean I wish it was something of course.”
Kate stares at her phone, at Michael’s smiling face. So the photo isn’t from today – it could be from any time. And he could be anywhere right now. Or in the house. Maybe he was there all along.
And Sylvia’s there too.
“Shit. We need to turn back,” she says, searching in her phone for Sylvia’s number.
“What? We can’t turn back – we need to get your husband into hospital.”
Shaking her head, she presses Sylvia’s number. It rings out. She tries again. Still no answer. Shit.
“I need to get back to her.” She looks at Sam again. �
�Is he going to be okay?”
“The doctors will talk to you – I can tell you he looks stable right now, but not so much that we could risk turning back. We still don’t know how much he’s been given or that it’s definitely midazolam. We should keep going.”
“I know. But I need to go back. Can you ask the driver to pull over and let me out?”
“Are you serious?”
“I need to go back to my friend. Once I know she’s okay, I’ll get her husband to drive me to the hospital – I’ll only be a couple of minutes behind you.”
“We’re a good ten minutes’ walk from your house now – it’s none of my business but why don’t you let the Gardaí handle it?”
“They might not get there in time – and this is all my fault, I brought this on her. I need to go back.”