by Anita Notaro
‘I see. What sort of things did she do, exactly?’
‘Well, she joined his gym for a start,’ I lied, trying to think of all the things William loved. ‘And she took a taxi there every evening the same time as him, so they could “have a bit of quality time on the way home, darling” – at least I think that was the way she put it. Oh, and she started going out herself, and suddenly there were no babysitters to be found and so he had to come home early. Lastly, I believe she arranged for his brand new Jag to be stolen and then insisted they could cope with one car to save the environment.’ I had a horrible feeling I’d just taken this story a step too far.
‘She did not?’ Beth’s eyes were out on stalks.
‘Well now, her family weren’t exactly model citizens, it has to be said.’ I tried to make it more plausible. ‘There were lots of questions about where they got their money, I believe. Apparently, there was a cousin – Vinnie or somebody, who’d done time for theft. He sorted out the car.’ Shut up now, I warned myself. Quit while you’re ahead.
‘Well, it serves him bloody well right,’ Beth announced.
‘I’m sure you’d be a bit more subtle.’ I smiled. ‘Of course, all this is just supposition on your part . . .’
‘Lily, you’ve helped me a lot.’ She patted my hand.
‘Really?’
‘Yep, you see, even if he’s a model husband, I’ve let him get away with murder for years. For instance, what am I doing hinting about going on this upcoming trip to Paris with him? It’s what fifteen-year-olds do when they want a boy to ask them out.’ She burst out laughing. ‘This has actually cheered me up, can you believe it?’
‘Me too.’ I checked the time on my phone, relieved that my conscience was clear about the Paris thing, at least. ‘Now I’d better get going,’ I told her.
‘Thanks.’ She gave me a hug. ‘Oh, and Lily, it might be better if we kept this to ourselves – just in case you meet William when, hopefully, you cook for us in the future. In fact I’m not going to even mention you were here, if that’s OK?’
‘Sure,’ I told her and beat a hasty retreat, not feeling very good at all about what I’d done.
I had arranged to call in to Brian Daly’s office at five thirty that same afternoon, to go through a few things. We were having dinner afterwards and I was staying over at the flat in Dublin. I was looking forward to it. It was weeks since I’d had a night away from Wicklow and I was enjoying the buzz of Dublin after so long.
‘You look well.’ Brian seemed pleased as he ushered me into a chair. ‘How’s it all going?’
‘So far so good.’ I knew he was still very cautious about the venture.
‘Not sorry?’
I shook my head. ‘It’s the best thing I’ve ever done,’ I told him honestly.
We had just finished going through some papers and had arranged one or two financial matters when there was a tap on the door.
‘Sorry to disturb you, I was just— Hey Lily, how are you?’ Kevin Daly strolled in, not missing a beat when he saw me. I could smell the cologne before he got to within ten feet of me. He was all dressed up, obviously on the pull, and I had to admit he looked good. All brawn and no brains, I thought, relieved that he appeared so relaxed. While I still hadn’t forgiven him for his parting comments that night, right now I was just happy that he wasn’t holding a grudge.
‘Hi,’ I said casually.
‘I was just wondering if you fancied a quick drink?’ he asked Brian. ‘I didn’t realize you had company. Your secretary is gone . . .’ He smiled at us both and looked straight down my top.
‘We were just finishing.’ Brian always looked uncomfortable any time his brother was around, I’d noticed. ‘Actually, Lily and I are off out to dinner.’
‘A date, eh?’ He managed to make it sound like a dirty weekend. It was his constant smirk that did it. I wondered how the hell I’d ever dated him, even for a couple of weeks.
‘Just dinner,’ I told him, smiling, but it had absolutely no effect.
‘Well, I won’t disturb you two lovebirds so, but how about I buy you a drink across the road beforehand?’
‘Fine by me.’ I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of making up an excuse.
‘Are you sure?’ Brian looked a bit put out.
‘Yeah, why not? We have time for a quick one, don’t we?’
‘I suppose so. Give us a minute or two . . .’ Brian indicated his papers.
‘OK, I’ll get them in. What’ll it be?’
‘Pint of Guinness for me.’
‘Pint of Heineken for me,’ I told him.
‘Pint, eh? Not very ladylike,’ he leered. ‘And you look so demure.’ He winked at his brother.
I noticed Brian looking closely at us.
‘What century do you live in?’ It was a vain attempt to put him down. He laughed and pulled my hair. With anyone else I could take it. With Kevin Daly I simply wanted to kick him in the goolies.
By the time we joined him in the pub ten minutes later he was chatting up a less well-heeled version of Madonna.
‘Don’t let us disturb you.’ I snatched my pint while Brian signalled to the barman that he was ready for his Guinness.
‘Now, now, don’t be jealous.’ He patted my bottom as I walked away and I swear I had to stop myself flinging my drink all over his moisturized, combed chest. ‘You know I only had eyes for you at one time.’ He grinned at me and winked at the Madge lookalike, who wouldn’t be singing ‘Like A Virgin’ to him later, I guessed.
Thankfully, it was just one drink, although Kevin dominated the conversation with stories of deals he was about to do and trendy places he’d been to. For brothers they were polar opposites. Luckily for me, Brian seemed as keen to get away as I was and afterwards we had a lovely dinner in Howth.
‘I have to tell you something,’ I said eventually. ‘Kevin and I had a brief – very brief – fling a while back.’ I was mortified just thinking about it. ‘Madness,’ I explained, hoping he wouldn’t take offence. ‘Sheer madness.’
‘I wondered what was going on between the two of you.’ He sipped his drink thoughtfully.
‘It ended a bit . . . well, badly, I suppose.’ It was all I was going to say.
‘Were you hurt?’ he asked and I almost choked on my prawns.
‘No, no,’ I said quickly, too quickly. ‘Just . . . not suited, I guess.’
‘Be careful, Lily.’ Brian put down his knife and fork. ‘I know he’s my brother, but he’s not always the most . . . honourable. He’s a charmer, too good-looking, really. You wouldn’t be the first woman to fall for him. I’d hate it if he . . . left you high and dry.’
I bet I’d be the first woman to puke at the thought of him, though, which was what I was about to do. How could Brian automatically assume that his sleazeball of a brother had dumped me and not the other way round?
‘Actually, Brian, I sort of . . . ended it.’ I’d had enough of being nice.
‘Oh, I see’ was all he said.
Later he dropped me back to the old place in a taxi, and walked me to the door while the driver happily let the meter run.
‘I had a lovely time. You’re a funny girl,’ he was laughing at one of my jokes, ‘and you’re also very good company.’
‘So are you.’ I knotted my hands through his arm. He felt like the brother I’d always wanted. ‘You’re so kind to me, I don’t know what I’d have done without you these past few months.’ I was glad of an opportunity to say it.
‘It’s a pleasure.’ He smiled down at me. ‘Any news from Cork, by the way? How’s Charlie?’
‘He’s fine, learning new words every day.’ I always worried he thought I wasn’t doing enough where Charlie was concerned.
‘Will you see him soon?’
‘Unfortunately not soon enough.’ I sighed. ‘We’re even open Sundays until Christmas, I’m afraid. It was a tough decision to make, because it means I can’t get down to Cork even for one night, but we’ve been inundated with bo
okings for lunches and parties and I simply had to do it, just in case January is a dead month.’
‘I can see how it might be,’ he said.
‘Everyone with massive credit card bills, so no one eating out.’ I hoped it wouldn’t be as bad as I feared. ‘My aunt was going to come up to help out for a day or two next week and bring Charlie but she can’t face the train journey at this time of year.’
‘Would she not drive?’
‘I hinted at it but she hasn’t made the journey in a car in years, and Charlie’s not the best traveller.’ I wanted so badly to see him I’d even considered sending a car to pick them up, but the cost was astronomical. ‘Anyway, I can’t wait for Christmas.’ I smiled, determined not to get maudlin.
‘Poor little lad, he needs a father figure,’ Brian said quietly.
I was a little bit tipsy or I’d never have taken offence. ‘We manage,’ I said, more sharply than I’d intended.
‘I’m sorry, Lily,’ he interrupted immediately. ‘I didn’t mean—’
‘No, I’m sorry.’ I had an urge to tell him what had been keeping me awake lately. ‘I’m a bit sensitive . . . It’s just,’ I looked at him, ‘there’s someone I . . . came into contact with recently who . . . might be . . . Charlie’s father.’ I felt better once it was out.
‘What did you say?’ Brian’s face was chalk-white.
‘I met somebody who . . . used to know Alison.’ I realized I wasn’t prepared for this at all, standing in a draughty hallway with a man I liked a lot and didn’t want to upset. ‘It’s only a vague possibility.’ I was backtracking now.
‘Who is he?’
‘Nobody you know.’
‘Lily, this is important. We need to talk about this. I don’t want you doing anything foolish.’
That annoyed me. ‘I’m responsible for Charlie now.’
‘Look, let me get rid of the taxi.’ He was already halfway down the stairs. ‘Make me a coffee? Please?’
‘I’ve no milk.’ I wasn’t giving in that easily. ‘And besides, the place is freezing. I was planning on going straight to bed.’
‘Please,’ he repeated. ‘I won’t be a second.’ He disappeared, leaving me with little choice.
* * *
The flat was indeed cold and without my sister’s homely touches it looked neglected. A few potted plants had died and there were cobwebs in corners and the windows looked grimy.
‘So, why are you so concerned?’ I asked him a couple of minutes later as I handed him a mug of vile-looking liquid, made with a jar of instant coffee past its sell-by date.
‘You know how fond I was of Alison.’ He seemed uncomfortable. ‘And I know that she wouldn’t want this.’
‘How do you know that?’
‘She wanted no contact with the father. I got the impression she didn’t even like him.’ I had the distinct feeling he was talking off the top of his head, which was unusual for him. He was always so considered.
How could anyone dislike James? I wondered. ‘Well, this person, he and his wife . . .’
‘Wife?’
‘Yes, he’s married.’ I was ashamed of myself when I thought about it later, but I got some sort of perverse pleasure out of letting him know that Alison wasn’t a saint, as he thought. ‘They can’t have children.’ I watched him closely. ‘His wife recently found out that her husband and my sister had a . . . thing . . .’ I wished then I’d never started this conversation.
‘So what’s this got to do with you?’ He looked grim.
I sipped my coffee and played for time. ‘They want to . . . have some sort of role in his life,’ I muttered.
‘That’s not possible.’
‘I haven’t agreed to anything.’ I was on the defensive right away. ‘And what do you mean, that’s not possible?’
‘Lily, this is crazy.’ He came very close to me and made me look at him. ‘Alison wanted you to bring up her child. You know how much she loved him . . .’ I knew he was genuinely upset, but even so I resented the vague innuendo that I was somehow neglecting Charlie. I wanted to tell him that I wasn’t the sort of person who’d ever give him up, not even to his father. But childishly I wanted him to know that without me having to tell him.
‘Listen to me, Lily, this is extremely important. I’ll help you.’ He seemed to be searching for words. ‘But he’s not Charlie’s father.’ I had a feeling he was sorry he’d started this too.
‘How do you know that?’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ he said too quickly.
‘Oh, but it does.’ I thought about it for a second. Maybe I was putting two and two together and getting forty-four, but I immediately felt I had to ask.
‘Brian.’ I stood up. ‘Are you Charlie’s father?’ I knew it was ludicrous the minute I said it, but he’d been acting very strangely ever since I’d mentioned James.
‘No,’ but he wasn’t looking at me.
‘You are, aren’t you?’
‘No, I’m not, Lily.’ He looked straight at me and I knew he was telling the truth.
‘So why are you so concerned about him?’
He wrestled with something in his head. It was written all over his face.
‘Tell me,’ I begged him.
‘I’m his uncle.’ He waited for my reaction.
‘His uncle?’ I couldn’t figure it out. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘He’s Kevin’s son,’ he told me quietly.
39
WILLIAM AND BETH
‘HI, GUYS,’ WILLIAM called to no one in particular. He was relieved to see lights on and smell dinner. He’d been deliberately cool with Beth these past few days and it had obviously paid off. After long days in the clinic he didn’t deserve her vaguely sarcastic comments and ever-changing moods, he’d decided.
When he went into the kitchen the table was set and there were fresh flowers and candles prettily arranged and even an open bottle of wine.
‘What’s the occasion?’ He smiled at his wife and indicated the setting. He decided to forgive her.
‘What do you mean?’ From her voice it seemed that she wasn’t playing ball.
‘Flowers and candles? It’s Tuesday. Are we expecting company?’
‘No. I just thought we might as well get into the Christmas spirit. Only a little over a week to go.’
‘Yes, and normally you’re fussing about with lists, on the phone all the time, at your desk after dinner, that sort of thing. Yet you’ve hardly mentioned it this year.’ He accepted the glass of wine she offered. ‘Did the tree arrive?’ he asked, a bit miffed that he’d had to order it himself.
‘Yes, and I’ll be organized, don’t worry.’ Her smile was a touch too bright, he thought.
‘Cheers.’ He took a sip then set down his glass. ‘Actually, let me get changed and say hello to the kids first. What’s to eat, anyway?’
‘Stuffed pork steak. Tell them it’s time for bed while you’re there, will you? Harry was up twice last night so he’s exhausted.’
‘Will do. Back in a minute.’ He did as requested and returned to find everything ready and just as he liked it, down to the snow-white napkins and proper cutlery.
‘So, tell me what we’re doing for the holidays?’ William asked his wife as soon as he sat down.
‘Well, we’re not doing the traditional Christmas Eve thing for your family,’ she told him casually. ‘Can’t get a caterer for any money.’
‘Oh, who have you tried?’
‘Everyone. Audrey tried to get me somebody, then told me I was wasting my time.’
‘What about that girl we used last time?’ William had no idea why he was saying it except that he was becoming obsessed with seeing her and she was not playing ball.
‘Lily? No, she was the first one Audrey asked, apparently. I think she said she was going away somewhere,’ Beth said vaguely.
This was news to William.
‘Anyway, unless you want to organize something yourself, William, I’m just too busy at the moment.’ Wit
hout pausing she regaled him with all the usual stuff – Santa presents ordered by phone from Selfridge’s and Hamley’s – oh, and she was going to London for the day on Thursday with her friend Shirley, early flight. Could William babysit? The kids loved it when he took care of them.
‘Fine.’ He decided to humour her. ‘How’s Shirley?’
Beth looked at him for just a moment too long, he thought, and then said quietly, ‘She thinks Martin’s having an affair.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ It was out before he realized he didn’t need this. He saw his wife’s mouth set in one of those ‘don’t you dare say that to me’ looks and decided he’d better be careful.
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ was all she said.
He took a bite of his food. ‘It’s just, Martin of all people. Quite frankly I can’t see it.’
‘I can.’
‘He’s a vet, for God’s sake. He spends all his time with smelly animals.’
‘Those smelly animals have owners, you know. Some of them young and attractive.’
William snorted. ‘What on earth’s put this notion into Shirley’s head, anyway?’
‘Stuff.’ His wife sipped her wine.
‘What sort of stuff?’
‘He’s out a lot . . .’
‘Beth, every man I know is out a lot. Come to think of it, you’ve been missing a bit lately yourself.’ He winked at her. ‘Anything I should know?’ He made an attempt to lighten the mood.
‘Very funny.’
‘So, is that where you’ve been? With Shirley?’
‘Once or twice, yes.’
‘Darling, I don’t think you should get too involved,’ he said gently. This was definitely not the sort of conversation he wanted to be having with his wife.
‘Would you ask him – in a roundabout way? Find out anything you can?’
William was appalled. ‘I most certainly will not.’ He saw her look. ‘Beth, no, I mean it. Leave me out of this.’ The very idea made him uneasy. ‘Anyway, we’re merely social acquaintances, hardly bosom buddies.’
‘I suppose he’d deny it, anyway.’ She attacked her food again.