‘Rubbish. Art belongs to everyone,’ Doug assured her.
Suzie shrugged. ‘Maybe, but if you’d told me a few years ago that I’d be content to spend my afternoon off in an art gallery, I’d have laughed my head off.’
He squeezed her hand. ‘Hungry?’
‘Famished,’ she said and realised how late in the afternoon it was. The time had flown.
‘Chinese or Italian?’
Suzie wrinkled her nose as she thought about it. ‘Italian. I fancy something with lots of garlic, washed down with lots of wine.’
‘I thought you had a two-glass-only policy,’ Douglas teased.
‘Fuck that,’ she said and clapped her hand over her mouth as her words echoed round the enormous room.
He threw back his head and laughed. ‘Aw, Suzie, don’t ever change.’
She looked at him, thinking her kids wouldn’t agree. She banished the thought. She was on her day off. She clocked a security man glaring at them. ‘I think we should get out of here before that geezer throws us out.’
‘Come on, then.’
‘Bye now,’ Suzie called out and gave the man a cheery wave before following Douglas out into the sunshine.
‘You’ve spent the last couple of weeks listening to my woes and I know so little about what you’ve been up to since . . . since you left. Travelling and writing, obviously, but what else?’ They were sitting sharing a plate of antipasti and sipping a crisp white wine. She could get used to this. On a day like this with good food and great company, she could forget all about her cares and responsibilities.
‘Travelling and writing is quite time-consuming,’ he pointed out, flashing his gorgeous smile.
‘You know very well what I want to know, Doug Hamilton. There must have been women, especially now you’re famous as well as rich.’
He laughed. ‘Travel writers are rarely either.’
‘Stop avoiding the question,’ she retorted, glaring at him.
‘I told you, Suzie. There have been no women.’ He kept his eyes on his wine. ‘I grew out of all that.’
‘I won’t tell Mandy tales out of school, if that’s what’s worried you.’
He shook his head, his smile sad. ‘There’s nothing to tell. I’m a changed man, partly because of you. I have a lot to thank you for, Suzie.’
‘Thank me?’ She frowned, confused. That wasn’t the way she remembered it. If anything, it was the other way around. He had given her a job when she was pregnant, put a roof over her head when her dad threw her out and stood firm when his wife demanded he evict her. She could still remember Pamela’s outrage when he’d moved her into the flat over his garage.
‘When I stepped down as MD and had the bypass and you moved in’ – Doug sighed – ‘that was one of the most difficult periods of our marriage. Escaping to see you kept me sane. Looking back, I think I’d have left Pam, only I knew if I did, she’d throw you out. So, I hung in there and, because we were forced to stay together, we stopped arguing and started talking, really talking, for the first time in years. If it wasn’t for you, Susie, I wouldn’t have had those last few precious years with my wife.’
Suzie reached for his hand. ‘Life is so fucking unfair. Pam was far too young to die and so soon after you’d sorted out your differences.’ She shook her head as she remembered the way Pamela’s eyes had lit up when she looked at her husband in those last couple of years. She’d transformed from a cold, hard woman into a warm and tender one. ‘She was so happy, happier than I’d ever seen her.’
‘I was, too.’ He put a hand to his mouth and Suzie’s heart broke at the hopelessness in his eyes.
‘Sorry, Doug, I didn’t mean to bring you down.’
He opened his eyes and smiled. ‘You didn’t. It’s nice to be able to talk to someone who knew her. I’m so glad you got to see what she was really like.’
‘She loved you, Doug, and I know that you adored her. But you were always such a flirt. Has there really been no one since?’
‘Ah, Suzie, I’d forgotten how direct you could be.’ He chuckled.
She frowned. That was the second time he’d referred to her being the same as he remembered. ‘You don’t think I’ve changed?’
Doug put his head on one side and looked at her as he considered the question. ‘You’re more confident,’ he admitted, ‘but, then, you’re older and have been a wife and mother, so that’s to be expected. That apart, yeah’ – his smile was full of warmth and affection – ‘you’re still my Suzie.’
She shook her head and reached for her wine. ‘Makes you wonder. Anyway, you were telling me what happened after you left CML.’
‘When I left Ireland, I took the first flight I could get a seat on,’ he told her. ‘I ended up in Chicago and, yes, I’ll be honest, I drank too much and played the field for a while. There, satisfied? You wouldn’t believe the number of women who are attracted to a sad, unshaven man with an Irish accent. But I soon got bored of hanging out in bars, feeling sorry for myself. I never was cut out to do nothing.
‘So I went to Boston and got work as a tour guide. I found the route a little unimaginative so I came up with my own alternative, specifically aimed at Irish and British tourists. That did quite well, so I was given the task of setting up similar operations in New York and Washington DC. That’s when I started to take notes about the different places I visited and anecdotes about locations or personalities that the other operators missed. One man asked what other countries I arranged tours of and so I decided to take the business to Europe.’
‘But not Ireland.’
He shook his head. ‘No. I was asked to, many times, but I wasn’t ready to come home. I started off with the obvious places – Paris, Berlin, Rome – but the Eastern bloc was the unknown and it attracted me. I suppose I was still running away. I was ahead of the game, though. There were hardly any English-speaking tourists interested in going there. But I went anyway and wrote about the places I visited and submitted them to their tourist departments. Soon I was being commissioned to write specific pieces to draw tourists to the lesser-known areas.’
‘Jess would be fascinated; you two have to meet. You could make money anywhere, couldn’t you?’ Suzie was lost in admiration. ‘You’re a true entrepreneur.’
He shrugged. ‘I don’t know about that. It was all accidental. I was trying to escape the past, and stumbled upon opportunities to help finance my travels.’
‘But you didn’t need to work, surely? You were loaded.’
He laughed. ‘Not really. In Ireland I still had a lot of bills to pay, and the mortgage on the house and the lease on the CML office premises were enormous. That’s the downside of good locations: no matter how tough times get, the cost of owning or leasing property doesn’t change much. Then there was the banking crisis and by 2010 we had lost two-thirds of our clients and the ones that remained had tightened their belts considerably. I didn’t want to close CML but I knew the sooner I did it the better the severance package I could put together for Gina, Jack and Mal, and poor old Noreen too, of course.’
She frowned. ‘What about Greg?’ she said, remembering Doug’s younger, cocky brother whom Gina had drooled over for months before she saw sense and started dating Jack.
Doug’s expression darkened at the mention of his younger brother. ‘I haven’t set eyes on him since I left Ireland and I don’t want to. He took advantage of my grief and got me to sign a few papers that I thought were invoices relating to the services and maintenance of our mother’s house. It was a relief to hand over the responsibility to someone else but, it turns out, I basically signed over some bonds to him. He conned my poor mother, too. Then he fucked off to Melbourne.’
‘Bloody hell!’ Suzie looked at him, stunned. ‘I have to be honest, I was never a fan, but I didn’t think he’d sink that low. I take it your mum’s passed on?’ Suzie remembered that the woman was quite old when she first met Doug.
‘Would you believe that she only died three years ago at the tender age
of ninety-three?’ he said with a whimsical smile. ‘I felt bad for leaving her, letting her down, but I was with her when she died at least.’
‘You didn’t let her down: Greg did.’
‘He wouldn’t have been able to if I’d had my wits about me and stayed in Ireland.’
She stared into space. ‘We all have regrets, Doug, but there’s no point in beating yourself up about things you can’t change.’
‘Wise words.’ Doug smiled at her as their main course was served. ‘Enough sad stories. Eat up, you’ll need the energy. We’re going to get some exercise today.’
They were on a bus heading north of the city but Douglas still wouldn’t tell her where they were going. Finally he jumped up and grabbed her by the hand. ‘Come on, this is our stop.’
She got off the bus and blinked. ‘You’ve brought me to a graveyard? Seriously?’
‘Glasnevin is not just a graveyard: it’s where all the famous figures from Irish history are buried.’
‘Fascinating.’ She rolled her eyes as he led her across the road to the main entrance.
He grinned. ‘It will be, I promise.’
And it was. Their tour guide was entertaining and made her country’s history sound a lot more interesting than she remembered from her school days. But she was even more spellbound by his anecdotes about the various liaisons, particularly that of William Butler Yeats and Maud Gonne.
‘The years come and go but people don’t change much, do they?’ she said as they sat over a coffee afterwards. ‘Do you think Maud loved him?’
‘Who, Yeats? Who knows?’
‘She packed a hell of a lot into her life. That’s what I want to do, Doug.’
‘Have you made a bucket list?’ he teased.
‘I have.’ She saw his look of surprise. ‘No, it’s more of a to-do list about things I need to put right before I die, family stuff.’
‘Your family are adults, Suzie. Let them get on with their lives and concentrate on your own.’
‘There speaks a man with no kids,’ she retorted. ‘They may be adults but they’ll always be my babies.’
‘You’ll turn into an interfering old bat that they’ll only invite round once a year out of duty if you don’t loosen those apron strings,’ he warned. ‘What about you, Suzie? You said you wanted to travel, try new things, meet new people, so where exactly is it you want to go, what do you want to do? And, more to the point, when are you going to start?’
Suzie shrugged. ‘I have Bobby to look after now, not to mention Percy, so I’m no longer free to take off whenever I choose.’
‘You won’t be looking after Bobby for ever and you can put the dog in a kennel or take him with you. Turn your dreams into a reality while you’re still young, Suzie.’
‘You told me that I should be careful with my money,’ she protested.
‘You don’t have to spend a fortune to see the world,’ he assured her. ‘Just be smart. If you are happy and fulfilled, you will be better able to cope with anything that life throws at you.’
She raised her eyebrows. ‘Easy, Doug. You’re beginning to sound like some kind of bible-basher.’
He chuckled. ‘I suppose I am but I don’t think I’d have got through that first year after Pam’s death if I hadn’t left the country. Going somewhere that no one knows you is liberating. In Dublin I was pitied for months because my wife was dying of cancer. Then I was the poor widower that people whispered about but were afraid to approach. In Chicago I was just a guy in a bar.’
‘I can see the attraction,’ Suzie admitted. Her own experiences when John was killed and since waking from the coma hadn’t been that different. ‘I’m not like you, though, Doug. I love my home. And, while I’d like to take holidays in faraway places – some of the ones you’ve written about – I’d always want to come home.’
‘I’m happy for you,’ he said and she could see a wistfulness in his eyes.
‘Set up a night with the gang, Doug,’ she said on impulse.
He looked taken aback. ‘We have a deal.’
‘We do, and I’ll keep my end of it, but it will be at least a couple of months before I could go to Croatia with you. A night out with old friends would do us both some good right now.’
‘All right, then.’ He sighed, but he was smiling. ‘I suppose Doug Hamilton has to reappear at some stage.’
Chapter Twenty-Five
Jess gave her little flat a whirlwind tidy and had just brushed her hair and slicked on some lip gloss when the doorbell rang. She hurried down to answer it and smiled at the sight of her brother bearing a massive pizza box.
‘Oh, well done, bro. I’m just in the door and never got a chance to stop by the supermarket.’
‘Like you were going to cook for us,’ Noel jeered, climbing the stairs.
‘Hi, Cal. Thanks for coming.’ She smiled up at him and he surprised her, yet again, by bending to press his cheek to hers. It was gentle and not in the least intimate, and yet it felt good. She inhaled his spicy aftershave and stepped back, blushing. He seemed to fill her small hallway. ‘Come on up,’ she said and led him up to the flat and into the tiny kitchen, where Noel had left the pizza on the table and was hunting in the fridge for beers.
‘Plates?’ she asked.
‘No need,’ Noel said, pulling up a chair, opening the box and taking a slice.
‘How are things, Jess?’ Cal asked, folding himself into one of the chairs.
‘Fine, busy. You?’ Jess pushed the box towards him.
‘Yeah, I’m good.’
Jess poured herself a glass of wine and then helped herself to a slice of pizza. ‘Mmm, this is delish.’ She closed her eyes, nodding her appreciation.
‘So, I’ve been telling Cal about our weird nephew,’ Noel said, washing down his pizza with a mouthful of beer. ‘He had some thoughts.’ He nodded to his friend before stuffing a huge chunk of pizza into his mouth.
‘Noel, you have the manners of a pig.’ Jess looked at Cal. ‘I’d appreciate any advice you can give us, Cal. We’re completely out of our depth. Nora added to my worries today. I’ll fill you in on that later,’ she said when her brother looked up, eyebrows raised.
Cal sat back and twisted his body sideways in an effort to get more comfortable. ‘I’m no expert and I haven’t met the child so I’m just throwing some things out there. Can you tell me more about him first?’
Jess tried to give Cal a balanced and fair description of her nephew and a few examples of his behaviour.
Cal listened carefully, asking the odd question. When she’d finished he leaned forward on the table and looked at her. ‘When did he start behaving like this?’
Jess frowned. ‘I think he’s always been like this. When he was younger, it seemed cute. He’s always been shy and clung to Sharon, though.’
‘He’s never bothered playing with other kids,’ Noel said between mouthfuls.
Cal nodded. ‘What makes him happy? What relaxes him?’
‘Playing video games, watching TV or playing with his toys,’ Noel said.
‘And he likes to colour, although he’s not very good at it.’
‘Does he do these things alone?’ Cal asked.
‘Pretty much,’ Jess said. ‘Once he’s engrossed in something, he’s oblivious of everyone.’
‘I never thought about that before, but you’re right,’ Noel said. ‘If I try to discuss a movie or game with him, he doesn’t have much to say.’
Jess looked at Cal. ‘What do you think?’
‘I think he should be assessed for ASD. From what you’ve told me, I’m surprised he hasn’t been already. If you’ve noticed these things, his parents must have.’
‘ASD?’ Jess frowned.
‘Autism spectrum disorder,’ Cal explained. ‘In the old days it was just called autism, but now they know there are many different types and levels, some worse than others.’
Jess shook her head. ‘Bobby isn’t autistic.’
‘Note the word “spectrum”,
Jess,’ Cal said gently. ‘From what you’ve said I’d say Bobby has a mild version. Doctors are wary of labelling any child until tests have been carried out, but the sooner they get started, the sooner Bobby can get the help he needs.’
‘I still don’t think he has it.’
Noel stared at Jess in disbelief. ‘Seriously? Are we talking about the same kid? The one who lines up his food, has no real friends and throws tantrums almost daily?’
‘I know that he’s difficult but he’s smart. He’s good at reading and writing and he’s great at maths,’ Jess argued.
‘Do you honestly think that he’s a little devil everywhere except in school?’
‘But they would have said something to Sharon.’
‘They probably have.’ Noel sounded weary.
Cal looked from one to the other. ‘She may be finding it hard to face.’
Jess met his gaze. His eyes were warm and kind, nothing like— She shivered and forced herself to concentrate on the subject at hand.
‘Does he hate loud noises or bright or flashing lights?’ Cal asked.
Jess remembered Bobby, cowering in a corner, his hands over his ears last Hallowe’en, and how her mum refused to take him to the cinema anymore because he always threw a tantrum. She gave a reluctant nod.
‘Does he only play with a couple of toys and seem almost obsessed with them?’ Cal went on.
Noel groaned. ‘Mum’s snow globe and a couple of his cars.’
‘Does he talk, or hum, or rock himself?’
Jess swallowed hard and looked at her brother. ‘How could we have been so blind?’
‘Hey, don’t beat yourself up.’ Cal touched her arm. ‘All little kids have habits, some stranger than others. When you’re around someone all the time, you stop seeing them or think it’s just that child’s quirk. Do you know, many parents, mostly dads, only recognise that they also have ASD after their child is diagnosed? It’s a relatively new condition. When we were kids, autistic children were either naughty or thought of as slow or simple. These days we know different and are better able to help those affected live full and happy lives.
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