Take a Look At Me Now

by Anita Notaro

  He shook his head. ‘I did my homework and discovered a great new place a few miles out towards Roundwood. It’s supposed to be excellent.’

  ‘Isn’t that rather a long way for you to drive?’

  ‘I have a driver waiting downstairs, if that’s OK?’

  ‘Fine, yes.’ She hopped up. ‘I’ll just get my coat.’

  ‘Take your time.’ William smiled nonchalantly. Round two to me, he thought, watching her disappear into the bedroom.

  ‘So, you mentioned earlier that you know your food.’ William helped her off with her coat. ‘I’ll be interested to hear what you think of this place. One of my colleagues reckons it’s the best for miles around. People travel from as far afield as Wexford, apparently.’

  ‘Yes, I know the chef,’ Lily told him. ‘He’s excellent.’

  ‘Really, how come?’

  ‘It’s what I do for a living, did I mention that before? I make it my business to know. In fact, I had intended to check this place out, so I’m delighted to be here . . .’ She smiled, a bit nervously, he thought.

  ‘You’re a chef?’

  ‘Well, I’m self-taught, but yes, I cook for a living. You sound surprised?’

  ‘You don’t look old enough.’

  ‘I’m the same age as Alison,’ she said quietly.

  ‘What I mean is’ – he was slightly disconcerted – ‘I always think of chefs as overweight, middle-aged men who go around playing God and terrifying people.’

  ‘That’s doctors you’re thinking of.’ She didn’t miss a beat and he laughed out loud.

  ‘Touché!’ He liked her style. This was turning out to be a very interesting evening.

  Lily asked him about his work but he sensed she wasn’t that impressed. She had many questions about his relationship with Alison, which didn’t throw him one bit. William found her to be an interesting dinner companion, intelligent and funny, and he really enjoyed her company. He in turn wanted to know all about the café thing she’d mentioned earlier. When he thought about the evening on the way home, William realized she’d actually said very little.

  ‘Have you children?’ she enquired during a gap in the conversation.

  ‘One of each. Monsters.’ William smiled.

  ‘I’m sure they’re not. How old?’

  He told her. ‘No, they’re great really. Beth, my wife, does a marvellous job with them.’

  He asked her a bit about Alison’s child, out of politeness really. William had no worries on that score; he’d always been careful and Alison had been on the pill – he’d seen her supply in a drawer several times.

  Lily declared the dinner excellent. At his insistence they shared a velvety chocolate concoction with their coffee.

  ‘I can’t, honestly.’ Lily laughed as he picked up her spoon and tried to force-feed her a last morsel. William saw some of the other diners looking at them – enviously, he imagined – and it gave him a hard-on. They had a connection, he decided then. But he wanted it to be different to what he’d had with her sister. He planned to take her to Paris and New York with him. Looking at her as she recounted a story about a temperamental chef, she seemed to glow. He’d met and been attracted to many women over the years. But this one was different and William decided he wanted her.

  21

  JAMES

  JAMES WAS NERVOUS and it showed. He tapped his foot anxiously and took a quick swig of his gin and tonic. It tasted warm and lacked the sophistication that a slice of lemon brought but it hit the spot regardless. He took a deep breath. ‘I’m afraid I only have about an hour,’ he said apologetically as Lily returned and handed him a glass of ice.

  ‘No problem.’ He thought she looked relieved. ‘I’m under a bit of pressure myself.’

  Lily sat down opposite him and tucked her legs under her. He noticed she was wearing black patterned lacy tights and high boots. She looked young and trendy. James felt old and tired beside her.

  ‘I’m racked with guilt about coming here tonight,’ he said straight away. ‘Even though it’s just a chat . . .’ He turned crimson.

  ‘If it’s any consolation I’m nervous too.’ She smiled at him. ‘This is not the sort of thing I do every night of the week – meet someone with whom my sister had a secret relationship, that is.’

  ‘Why, then?’

  Lily sighed. ‘Curiosity, I suppose.’ She sipped her drink. ‘I felt we made a connection that day you called to the salon and I know that you must have been very important to my sister, so . . . here we are.’

  He looked troubled. ‘When we talked that day, I hoped we’d meet again. You remind me so much of her.’ James wasn’t sure what he was saying.

  ‘I guess I need to piece her life together as best I can.’ Lily looked far away for a moment. ‘I never knew about . . . you two . . . you know.’ Lily sighed. ‘She kept you a secret and it’s kinda hard, to be honest.’

  ‘She was lovely,’ he said softly. ‘And she became very important to me.’ He seemed to be talking to himself. ‘And I’ve really no idea why.’ He realized that he had tears in his eyes. Christ, she’d think he was a complete looper.

  ‘James, perhaps by talking about it – we can help each other.’ She sounded very young.

  ‘I love my wife. Does that seem strange?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘I mean really love her. I’m not just saying it.’ He gave a little laugh. ‘This is not one of those my-wife-doesn’t-understand-me conversations, I promise. She’s my soulmate.’

  ‘You’re lucky then.’ It was an odd thing for her to say, he thought. He didn’t feel lucky.

  ‘Alison was marvellous. Being here with her was so . . . so liberating, I guess is the word.’ James saw she looked like she wasn’t sure about hearing this. ‘She made me feel very special,’ he added quickly.

  Lily nodded and she reminded him so much of Alison that James suddenly felt like a teenager again. He also felt comfortable with her, which loosened his tongue. ‘Things have been so strained at home where sex is concerned.’ He told her a bit about their attempts to have a child. ‘I get the call, she’s ready, it’s all about precision timing.’ He hoped he didn’t sound as bitter as he felt. ‘Sometimes, I can’t even . . . get an erection.’ He buried his face in his hands. ‘I don’t know why I’m telling you all this. I suppose it’s that I feel I know you, in a way.’

  ‘Have you told your wife how you feel?’

  ‘Yes. Although not in those words. We talk about everything, of course. Well, almost everything.’ James laughed sarcastically. ‘But any time I tried to explain about how it wasn’t really working for me, how having to do it on command all the time wasn’t easy . . . and her making no real effort . . . to turn me on, that is . . . at least, not like she used to . . . she’d just get upset and then I’d feel like a monster or something.’ It all came tumbling out. James looked intently at Lily, as if working it out for himself. ‘Can you understand what I’m saying?’

  ‘Yes, I think so.’

  ‘I suppose it would have all been worth it if she’d conceived, but we’re one of many “unexplained infertility” cases, although apparently I’ve got a low sperm count anyway . . .’ James laughed. ‘Great catch, eh? And now . . . it’s all been for nothing and I’ve got this huge guilt thing going on.’ He stared straight ahead, not really seeing her. ‘If Alison hadn’t died,’ he said eventually, ‘I don’t think I would have been able to give her up.’

  ‘I’m sure once you got through this patch . . .’

  ‘Lily, it had been going on for years,’ James told her.

  ‘Really?’ The thought hurt.

  ‘I’d become addicted to her.’ James didn’t seem to hear her. ‘She was . . . magic.’

  ‘Yes, she was,’ Lily agreed, even though they meant it in completely different ways.

  22

  LILY

  STRINGING THEM ALONG was going to be much harder than I’d originally thought, I decided over the next few days. William Hammond sent the bigg
est bouquet of flowers I’d ever seen to the salon. The note simply said, ‘Thank you for the pleasure of your company.’ It was unsigned. Dave left a couple of ‘hey, babe’-type messages that might have sounded cool if he’d been a nineteen-year-old black rapper and James kept texting me to tell me what he was doing, as if I was his new best friend. What surprised me most was how much I liked the feeling of power I imagined I now had over them. In my head it compensated for the feeling I had that somehow they’d been responsible for Ali not telling me about them. I’d concluded that they’d called all the shots and she’d simply played whatever role they wanted. Well, not any more, boys, I told them over and over again in my mind as I worked out my frustration by cooking up a storm.

  Soon the freezer was groaning under the extra weight and I still had no answers. In bed at night I had weird dreams about having sex with all four of them together and each one telling me they were Charlie’s father.

  Sally had rung a few times and I was avoiding her calls, not wanting to talk to her until I’d worked it all out a bit more. When sleep wouldn’t come I tore the flat apart looking for clues. In the process I found out quite a bit more about Alison’s secret life, but the more I learned, the more confused I became. And not in any drawer or cupboard could I find the answer to another question that now haunted me. And it was a much less complicated one, really. Why?

  I made another appointment to see Brian Daly and we went through Alison’s affairs in detail. At least here I felt I could get some results.

  ‘Brian, what if Alison had had more than one child?’

  ‘There was a certain amount set out for each . . . male child,’ he told me, ‘but the main funds were to be paid once the firstborn turned three.’

  ‘And would she have known that there was . . . more?’

  ‘No. I wasn’t at liberty to tell her.’

  ‘I see.’ But I didn’t really. ‘So how come you’re telling me now?’

  ‘Because it doesn’t apply any more now that Alison’s dead.’

  ‘So what happens to the money that might have been hers if she’d had more children?’

  ‘I’m sorry, Lily, I can’t really go into . . . details of your father’s will that don’t directly concern you.’

  ‘Right.’ I sighed. It was all so complicated. My father shot up to number one on my hit list again. ‘But apart from that, the money that was meant for Alison up to now goes to me?’ I blurted out. ‘Sorry, that came out all wrong,’ I said quickly. ‘It’s just that every time I think about him . . . I turn into another person entirely.’ I glanced at him. ‘I’m afraid he always had that effect on me.’

  ‘Yes, it all goes to you, and you’re quite right to ask,’ Brian said matter-of-factly.

  ‘Provided I keep Charlie, of course?’ I’d no idea where that came from except it seemed like the sort of thing my father would have thought.

  It was the only time I’d seen him look perplexed. ‘Is that an issue?’

  ‘No, no, of course not.’ How could I tell him that I was worried about who might be the father? I didn’t know what I’d do if any one of the men I’d met tried to claim him, although what was left of the rational side of my brain told me that that was highly unlikely. ‘It’s just that . . .’ I could see he was watching me closely. ‘I . . . really don’t know how I’m going to cope without her,’ I told him. ‘She was an amazing mother too, you know that. I’m a very poor substitute for Charlie. Not many maternal instincts, I’m afraid.’ That part wasn’t really true; I just didn’t seem to trust my instincts – maternal or otherwise – any more.

  ‘He’s a lovely little fella.’ It sounded unusually soft coming from a man. ‘How are you getting on with him so far?’

  ‘Great, actually. I saw him last weekend.’ Brian looked confused. ‘I did tell you that he’s in Cork with Aunt Milly, didn’t I?’ I watched his face. ‘That is OK, isn’t it? I mean it’s not a problem as far as . . .?’

  He shook his head. ‘No. Lily, Alison left everything to you, the money, the business, the flat. It wasn’t conditional on you . . . keeping him with you all the time.’ His face softened. ‘I know how hard this must be for you.’ He sighed. ‘From what you’ve told me, having a child of your own wasn’t on the cards right now.’

  ‘No, and not many candidates queuing up even if I had wanted one,’ I told him. ‘But I love Charlie to bits, you know . . . just in case you have any doubts.’

  ‘I know that.’

  ‘Sometimes, though, I feel so guilty that I didn’t pay more attention when she was with him. I’d know much more about what to do now that she’s gone. I got all the good bits of him.’ I smiled. ‘Ali got all the broken nights, the heat rashes, the teething.’ I grinned, remembering. ‘Sometimes, we’d hide on her, the two of us. Under the bed. Especially when she was trying to feed him parsnips, or make me go through the bank statements.’ I closed my eyes and thought about all we’d shared. Everything except the things that were tearing me apart right now, that is.

  ‘She loved him so, so much, you know.’ I jolted myself back to the present just as an image of my sister swinging Charlie in the air one day in the park flashed through my mind. I remembered the look of pure, unconditional love I’d seen on her face. ‘Anyway’ – I tried to shut it out immediately, because it was too painful – ‘the Aunt Milly thing is just to give me time to get my head around all this. As far as I’m concerned, Charlie’s my number one priority now.’ Then I asked the question I’d been wanting to ask all the time. ‘Unless you’re going to tell me anything about anyone else who might have a claim on him?’

  ‘What do you mean?’ His face was straight out of solicitor training school.

  ‘His father?’

  ‘No.’ He shifted in his seat. ‘Actually, that was one thing Alison never discussed with me. I do know that she was adamant that no DNA tests or anything would ever be carried out on the child.’

  ‘Why?’ It seemed an odd thing to have discussed with your solicitor.

  ‘I’ve no idea. We only ever talked about it briefly, when she was making her will.’

  ‘DNA tests came up in her will?’

  ‘Not quite as baldly as that, no.’ He smiled. ‘But we discussed the possibility of his father coming forward some time in the future.’

  ‘And?’ My heart was thumping.

  ‘She said it wasn’t a possibility.’

  ‘Is he dead?’ I asked hopefully. That would explain why she’d never talked about it.

  ‘I’ve told you all I know.’ He seemed uncomfortable.

  ‘But what if someone came forward now?’ It was my worst nightmare. ‘Say if the person got to know about the money, for instance?’

  ‘That’s highly unlikely, I think.’ I could see he didn’t know what I was getting at. ‘Are you worried about it?’

  ‘I . . . think about it, yes.’ I wished I could just tell him everything, but I couldn’t do that to her, even after what she’d left me to find out for myself. It seemed wrong, somehow.

  ‘Lily, the only two people who know about your father’s will are me and you, unless Alison told somebody, which I doubt. You were the only one she wanted to tell, as far as I’m aware. And obviously, I won’t be telling anybody . . .’

  ‘I know, you’re right, of course.’ I sighed. ‘It’s just, this is all so complicated.’

  ‘We’ll work it out, don’t worry. Let’s just take it one step at a time.’ He paused and then said quietly, ‘I should tell you that Alison did leave a letter.’ He seemed a bit distant, and for the first time since we’d been thrown into all this he looked unsure of himself. ‘But it is only to be opened in the event of someone trying to claim rights in relation to Charlie.’

  ‘What?’ I was thrown. ‘So he is still alive?’ That one faint hope vanished into thin air.

  ‘I’ve no idea,’ he said. ‘But she made it crystal clear that it was extremely unlikely to happen. She was adamant.’ He must have seen my face. ‘I don’t know what the let
ter contains,’ he added quickly. ‘My instructions were that the letter was only to be given to you if you presented me with proof that some individual was claiming to be the child’s father.’

  ‘Given to me? I don’t understand . . .’

  ‘The letter is addressed to you.’

  It was all too much for me to get my head around. My mind was completely addled. ‘Brian, I think I need to see that letter.’ I tried to sound calm and reasonable. I couldn’t explain to him that it might just answer all my questions.

  ‘That’s not possible, Lily, please understand.’ He looked put out. ‘I probably shouldn’t even have said anything to you at this time. It was just that you seemed . . . upset about the child and I thought it might help you to know that this was here in the event of anything . . . arising.’

  ‘OK, I understand, I think.’ I tried to think logically again and then sighed. There was nothing logical about any of this. ‘I’m not really happy about it but I guess there’s nothing I can do, is there?’

  ‘No,’ he said quietly and that seemed to be the end of it.

  After that we went on to more mundane matters such as funeral expenses and the transfer of the business, which left me totally brain-dead. I said goodbye to him after another hour, feeling more confused than ever.

  ‘By the way, Brian, what about if I have a baby?’ I asked him as I walked ahead of him to the door. ‘Is there any provision in his will for my children?’

  ‘I’m sorry, Lily, I’m not at liberty to discuss that with you unless the situation arises.’

  ‘I should have known, I suppose.’ I turned back to give him my regular sardonic grin. ‘It’s just that me having a baby would have been his very worst nightmare. In my case, he’d have had the local wino down as a potential father. I was always the wild one, as far as he could see. I regularly got the dire warnings, never Ali.’ I looked at him. ‘Funny that it turned out the other way . . . Ali having the baby, I mean.’