“We will have to put our heads together.”
“Finn, is there any way we can talk this old reprobate into returning to Ireland?” Harry Bailey asked as they sat drinking coffee after a very fine meal.
“It’s impossible to talk the man into anything. You should know that.”
“I’m going to try.” Harry sighed. “I’ve missed the old goat.”
“That old goat is sitting right here!” Emmet snapped.
“I really do want you to think about coming back to Ireland to live,” Harry said.
“I’m not ready to settle down yet,” Emmet growled.
“For God’s sake, man, none of us is getting any younger. You’ve been travelling for fifty years – how much more of the world do you need to see?”
“I like my life.”
“I’m not saying you don’t but surely you could give some thought to moving back home.”
“You’d want me to learn to play golf,” Emmet moaned. “That’s for old folks.”
“I’ve news for you, Emmet – we are old.”
“I am not,” Emmet insisted.
“Stay around a while. Give your daughter some support. She’s going to need it.”
“I promised Oisín I’d take him around Europe in the camper,” Emmet snapped.
Finn stood and began clearing the dishes. She couldn’t add anything to this argument. She’d love her father to stay longer but she refused to hold anyone back from following their dreams.
“Gentlemen, I think you would be more comfortable in the lounge.” She wanted to clear the table and tidy the room. “Emmet knows where I keep the booze. Why don’t you go in there and talk in comfort?” Finn didn’t feel guilty deserting her guest. These old friends didn’t need her sitting in on their conversation.
Chapter 24
“I’m sorry – it’s completely unprofessional I know, but I am so excited.” Orla Mountjoy couldn’t conceal her glee. They were in the lobby of the building on Merrion Square that housed the law office of Bailey, Shuster, and Byrne.
Finn had met with the dark-haired, frighteningly efficient lawyer several times to discuss this meeting. She’d never seen the other woman so energetic. You would think she was going to a pop concert to see her favourite star.
“I cannot believe Judge Bailey is going to sit in on this meeting. The man’s a legend in the legal profession. I’ve never had the honour of coming before him in court. To have him sit in on one of my meetings is blowing my mind.” Orla Mountjoy was practically bouncing in her black court shoes.
Harry had offered the use of his office for this first meeting between Finn and Patrick Brennan and their lawyers.
Finn had been impressed with Orla Mountjoy from their first meeting with the lawyer. Orla, after careful questioning, had reduced Finn’s mountain of paperwork to five pages of notes. She’d practically stripped Finn’s brain of information before agreeing to this meeting with Patrick and his lawyer.
Orla led Finn up the richly carpeted stairs towards the top floor of the building. They could have taken the lift, but they were early. Besides, Orla said, she wanted to take in every feature of this enclave of the top tier of the legal profession. One day she would be a judge. She’d need to know how she wanted to set up her rooms. This was a big moment for her.
Finn listened to her lawyer gush. Maggie had been accurate in her judgement of lawyers. Orla Mountjoy was enjoying the chance to show off in front of her peers. Patrick’s lawyer happened to be an old classmate of hers. Finn had no cause for complaint yet, but the feeling of being on the sidelines of her own life was not pleasant.
They reached Harry’s office and entered. His secretary announced their presence to the Judge through the intercom.
The door to the inner office was flung open.
“Ah! Come on in!” Harry ushered them inside.
“Harry, thanks for letting us have this meeting here.” Finn knew she was being a bitch referring to the judge as Harry, but she wanted every advantage she could get.
She introduced the suddenly solemnly professional Orla Mountjoy to the judge who offered coffee while they waited.
But before they could accept, a disembodied voice spoke from the intercom on Harry’s desk: “Mr. Brennan and Mr. Coyle have arrived, Judge.”
“Send them in.”
Harry walked over to stand behind Finn as she and Orla turned to face the door. He pressed her shoulder, apparently in sympathy, but the force of his grip helped Finn fight back the nerves. She had to hold it together.
The door opened and Patrick Brennan and his lawyer entered.
“Nuala, this is ridiculous.” Patrick Brennan, beautifully groomed as always, spread his arms around to encompass everyone in the room. “I’m afraid my wife is having a very difficult time right now. Perhaps you listen to my daily radio programme?” No one made any response to this piece of self-advertisement. “I’ve been interviewing experts on the distressing subject of the menopause, hoping to find someone who could help my wife deal with her delusions.”
Finn opened her mouth to blast the man but the force of the Judge’s hand on her shoulder shut her up. She was paying Ms. Mountjoy to be her mouthpiece, better let her do the talking.
“Gentlemen, you’re welcome,” said Harry in an effort to establish civilities. “Come and sit down.” He led the way to a grouping of comfortable chairs set around a circular table.
They all sat.
“I am here as an impartial observer of these proceedings,” Harry said then. “I hope you are all clear on that?” He wanted to hear right from the horse’s mouth what Patrick and his lawyer had planned. This could get ugly.
Patrick was suddenly on his feet again and addressing the room. “My wife is falling apart. Look at her, for goodness’ sake. She looks terrible. She needs medical attention.”
“Mr. Coyle, you need to ask your client to sit down,” Orla Mountjoy practically whispered.
“Patrick, take a seat.” Declan Coyle had given Patrick advice on how to behave in this meeting. He’d warned the man against trying to play the room.
Patrick sat and leaned forward, appearing distraught. “We have had a long and happy marriage – two wonderful sons – it is breaking my heart that it has come to this – my wife needs help.” His beautiful voice quivered – tears appeared in his lake-blue eyes.
“We are meeting today to set up the ground rules for a legal separation.” Orla Mountjoy smiled in Patrick Brennan’s direction. The man was a fool and a liar. Declan Coyle would be worried if he knew the facts.
“I will never agree. I take my marriage vows seriously.” Patrick jumped to his feet. His lawyer yanked him back down.
Finn waited for lightning to strike him at that blatant lie. Nothing happened. He continued to deliver what was obviously a prepared outpouring.
“Nuala, darling, I know you’ve been difficult to live with lately, but I’m sure we can work through this difficult time in your life – together.” Patrick was using his voice to express deep emotion. “You are not the first woman to lose her sanity because of the menopause and tragically you won’t be the last.”
“My client prefers to keep your transgressions private, Mr. Brennan. However, if you insist in this behaviour I will be forced to list my client’s grievances against you.” Orla Mountjoy would enjoy nothing more than wiping the floor with the smug grandstander.
“I’m unaware of any transgressions,” Declan Coyle said, wanting to drag Patrick Brennan out of this office and beat the truth out of the man. Orla Mountjoy was behaving like a cat that swallowed the canary. He did not appreciate being made to look a fool in front of Judge Harry Bailey.
“Mr. Brennan turned the family home into an unhealthy environment for his growing sons.” Orla had decided to use that little stinger as her opening shot. She had plenty.
“Nuala, how can you sit listening to these lies? I love my sons, you know that,” Patrick objected. “You’ll have to forgive my wife – she’s been under
a great deal of strain lately. I made an appointment for her with a renowned psychologist which she refused to attend. I’m frankly at the end of my tether trying to guide her through this difficult time in her life.”
“I am not aware that my client created an ‘unhealthy environment’, Ms. Mountjoy,” Declan Coyle said, “whatever you may mean by that.”
“Well, let me tell you …”
Finn sat back while the lawyers indulged themselves in extensive argument, using her private life like a rubber ball. She was mortified by the private matters being discussed openly in this office. Ms. Mountjoy and Mr. Coyle were like children showing off in front of a teacher. It did not impress Finn but even so she knew her lawyer was winning.
“Nuala, say something for God’s sake!” Patrick exploded. “I can’t believe you can allow these people to slander me like this. You love me, you always have.”
Finn was numb. She’d gone to a great deal of effort to appear cool and sophisticated for this meeting. Now she wanted to beat her breast and pull her hair out. These people had discussed things openly here she wouldn’t discuss with a priest.
“Nuala!” Patrick’s voice was at its most beseeching.
“My name is Finn.” Finn dragged herself back, becoming aware Patrick was standing over her.
“I don’t want this, any of it.” Patrick was finally beginning to realise that he couldn’t charm himself back into her good graces. “We’ve been married for twenty years. Don’t throw our happy marriage away in a moment of anger.”
Finn looked around, wondering how the others were reacting to this. All three lawyers were in a huddle. Finn didn’t get the impression the talk was related to her case. The two younger lawyers were sucking up to the judge. Nothing that had taken place in this room affected them. She was a miserable wreck.
“Our marriage lasted twenty-one years, Patrick, but only because I was willing to turn a blind eye to all your shit.” Finn smiled sadly. “Guess what? I’m not doing that anymore. It’s over, Patrick, let’s end the thing with dignity.”
“Patrick.” Declan Coyle approached Patrick. “We should go now.”
“Go? What do you mean ‘go’? I’m not giving up fighting for my marriage!”
The lawyer tried to lead his client from the room. There was a brief struggle but shortly both men left the room, arguing in low voices.
“Finn, my dear, are you alright?” Harry Bailey pulled Finn from the chair into his arms as soon as the door closed behind her husband and his lawyer. He was sure that wasn’t the last they would hear from the man. There was a great deal of money involved in this case – he’d been surprised that matter wasn’t raised here today. But it would be. Of that he was certain. Patrick Brennan was a fool. He’d had a good life he’d thrown away. Finn was an attractive woman – if she had not also been the daughter of a good friend, he’d try his chances with her. After all they did say ‘the older the fiddle the sweeter the tune’ – he wasn’t past it yet.
Orla Mountjoy’s eyebrows were in her hair. Finn Emmerson was obviously held in great esteem by the Judge. She’d have to make sure the woman’s case was handled only by herself. She wouldn’t pass this one along to her assistants.
Finn walked around Dublin in a daze. She’d refused lunch with the Judge, wanting to be alone. She felt bruised by the meeting with Patrick and the lawyers. It was an effort to put one foot in front of the other. She felt as if she walked along enclosed in a plastic bubble that rendered her invisible to all who passed her. Was that really the beginning of the end of her marriage? Shouldn’t there be a great deal more fanfare than this?
“God, Angie, it was a nightmare. I still can’t believe it happened.” Finn shivered, clutching a mug of whiskey-laced tea while she sobbed. “You would not believe how clueless Patrick appeared. The man really thought if he gave me enough time I’d change my mind.”
“Don’t keep doing this to yourself, Finn.” Angie was sitting on the ground holding Finn’s hands. She had rushed over to Finn’s house, knowing the meeting would have been difficult. Maggie Spenser had warned her. Maggie wanted to be here herself but her twins made that kind of gesture on her part impossible, so she’d asked Angie to be available for Finn.
“Where is everyone?” Angie thought Finn’s family would be here with her.
“They’re shooting in Bray.” Finn hadn’t wanted her family here. They were men and at this moment in time men were not her favourite people. “I asked my da and Rolf to keep the boys busy.” She fought her tears. She had to get control of herself.
Angie sat back and stared at Finn. She had no advice to hand out in this situation. When her husband left her she’d buried the pain and carried on. Of course, she had no money and no property which simplified things.
“Want me to make another pot of tea?” Angie was gagging for a cup of tea. They had talked and cried themselves dry.
“Great idea, Angie, a straight cup of tea sounds like heaven right now. I left some sandwich makings and dip in the fridge. With any luck there is still something left. I would swear I had kitchen gremlins except I know that the men in my life are like a shower of locusts where that fridge is concerned. Thankfully my da is having a blast discovering favourite foods from his youth. He cooks up a storm almost every day and that is keeping us all going at the moment.”
“Some people have all the luck. I can’t imagine the wonder of having a man around the house who can cook. I’ll root around in the fridge and cupboards. I’ll put something together for us to eat. I’m starving.” Angie pushed up from her position on the floor.
“I knew there was a good reason I kept you around. Thanks for reminding me.” Finn laughed as she watched Angie hurry towards the kitchen. She squared her shoulders, unconsciously heaving a sigh that seemed to come from her toes. She had to put this behind her and get on with her life.
Chapter 25
“Ronan, clear the table – Oisín, serve fresh tea and coffee.”
Finn sat at the head of the table in her dining room, staring around at her men. The table was covered in the remains of the breakfast Emmet had prepared and served. In the two weeks since her meeting with the lawyers, this was the first time she’d had a chance for a serious conversation with her menfolk. She’d taken time to nurse her wounds but now it was time to act.
“I want to talk to you all.”
“We need to get going,” Emmet objected.
“I need to talk to all of you,” Finn insisted. “I had thought to ask Rolf to take my sons out of the firing line while I pinned your ears to the ground, Da, but I changed my mind. They can hear what I have to say.” She stood up and moved away from the table. “I need a pad and pencil.” Making notes on an electric notebook just wasn’t the same. She opened a drawer in the sideboard and removed what she needed.
She swung around at a noise behind her.
Emmet was on his feet.
“I’m serious, Da.” She strode over and, putting her hand on his shoulder, she pushed him back into his seat. “I’ll have the boys sit on you if I have to, but by God you are going to talk to me.”
“I was going to give the lads a hand clearing the table,” Emmet objected.
“My eye.” Finn had the bit firmly between her teeth.
“No, seriously. Let’s clear first. Then we can give you our full attention”
“Very well. Go ahead. I’m waiting.”
The table was cleared – the dishwasher in the kitchen was turning – they had all settled down around the table – coffee and tea had been served.
“OK, missus,” Emmet sulked. “We’re all here – what’s this about?”
“First item on the agenda – this house.”
“We’ve a bloody agenda now,” Emmet muttered.
“Emmet!” Rolf tapped his partner’s knuckles with his teaspoon.
“You need to decide what you are going to do with this house, Da.” Finn glared at her sulking parent. “I cannot afford to run it. The taxes are killing. You lot
,” she waved around the table, “are having a rare old time, making plans but no-one has thought to ask me what I’m going to be doing. You all seem to expect me to sit here like Penelope and wait for my men to come home. Well, guess what – yez can all go fuck yerselves!” She hadn’t realised how angry and hurt she was by their total disregard for her thoughts and feelings.
“What is it you want to know?” Emmet finally broke the uncomfortable silence that had fallen.
“This house is yours, Da. I’ve spent the last twenty-one years of my life being married to the bloody thing.” She held up her hands to stop the objections she saw coming. “I was happy to take care of the changes that needed to be made. I loved raising my children in this house – but times have changed. I’m not willing to be a house servant anymore. I have no money to put into this estate. A decision has to be made and you are the only one who can do it, Da.”
“Do you want me to sell the place?” Emmet had been astonished by the changes in the house. Patrick Brennan had not welcomed his company so to keep the peace for his daughter he had stayed away. He’d seen photographs through the years but nothing had prepared him for the changes his daughter had made to the family home. It was a little palace and worth a fortune. “I could sell the place and give you your inheritance now.”
“If my opinion matters,” Ronan raised his hand like a child, “I love this place. I don’t want to lose it. I’d hate to see it go out of the family. I’m proud to live in a house that has been in my family for generations.”
“To add to what my bro said,” Oisín couldn’t stay silent, “I love this place as well. We had a great childhood here – the house is full of love and happy memories for me. Yeah, I want to travel but only knowing I have a home to come back to.”
“That’s lovely, lads,” Finn clenched her teeth on the words she really wanted to say. “Would yez care to discuss how such a thing might be achieved? I am deadly serious when I say I will no longer spend every morning of my life cleaning up this house – that makes no mention of the work in the garden. The house eats my time and a great deal of money. I’m no longer willing to give my time and I have no money.” She sat back, almost panting at the effort it took not to scream at them. “Talk among yourselves.”
Her Revolution Page 18