by Val Collins
‘Did I fall asleep?’
‘About three minutes after you sat down.’ She picked up his plate and headed for the kitchen. ‘I’ll put your dinner in the microwave.’
‘Don’t bother. I’m not hungry.’
‘You have to eat something, Jason. You’ll make yourself sick, working all hours and not eating properly.’
‘I’ll be fine. I had a big lunch.’ He sat up and looked at his watch. ‘Ten o’clock. Why didn’t you wake me?’
‘I was putting Amy down.’
‘For two hours?’
‘It took ages to get her to sleep. I hope she’s not coming down with something.’
‘You spoil her. Let her cry for a while. That’s what my mother did. It didn’t do us any harm.’
‘Your mother had five kids. There’s nothing she doesn’t know about babies. How do I know why Amy’s crying? What if I ignore her and she’s really sick?’
‘You worry too much. Come here,’ he said, patting his armchair.
‘No, Jason. I’m exhausted. I just want to stretch out on the couch and relax for a half hour.’
Jason rose, took the plate from her hand and led her to the armchair. He sat down and pulled her onto his lap. ‘I can’t have you sitting so far away,’ he said, wrapping both arms around her and burying his head in her neck.
She was lucky Jason was so affectionate, but it was stifling sometimes. They could never sit on the couch, where she might have a bit of comfort. They always had to be squashed into an armchair. Sometimes she thought he was afraid that if he couldn’t touch her, she would disappear.
THREE
‘So, what do you think?’
Aoife put down the pasta she had spent the last few minutes winding around her fork.
‘I don’t know, Laura. Amy’s barely three months old. The agency said the job was for a week. I hadn’t intended working full-time until she was older.’
‘It’s only two days a week, and you can choose any days you like. Amy’s happy with your mother-in-law, isn’t she?’
‘Oh yeah, Maura’s great, but Jason would have a fit.’
‘Really? Gavin would be pushing me out the door. He’d think all his birthdays had come at once if I worked full-time again. He’s already taking all the overtime he can get, and he works for a friend on his days off, but we’re barely making ends meet.’
‘We’re broke too. Both our credit cards are maxed out, but Jason says I shouldn’t worry about money because it’s his job to provide for us.’
‘You’re joking.’
‘I wish I was. Not that I’m complaining, really. Jason’s great and I love him to bits, but his ideas about working mothers are from the last century. Well, the nineteenth century, actually. My mum and gran worked. Even my great-grandmother worked occasionally.’
‘Try and talk him round. I have to hire someone to work on this IT project or I’ll never get it done on time. I’d really like it to be you.’ Laura glanced at her watch. ‘Hell, it’s five past two. Come on. It doesn’t look good if I’m late. I don’t want to be another Delia, but I don’t want to go in the other direction either. Rachel and Joe already think they’re on holidays.’
‘They’re taking advantage of you.’
‘Not really. You’d understand if you’d known Delia. I shouldn’t speak ill of the dead, but she was very difficult, and now she’s gone it really does feel like being on holidays. They’ll settle down soon.’
*
‘She phoned again,’ Rachel said as Laura and Aoife entered the office. ‘First time this month. I thought she’d given up.’
‘Thanks. I’ll get back to her.’
‘Do you think the whole thing’s unhinged her? I mean, what does she expect—’
‘Thank you, Rachel,’ Laura said, opening the door to her office. ‘Do you have a minute? I want to discuss that problem with the Vista Foundation.’
‘Did she offer you the job?’ Joe asked when they were alone.
Aoife nodded. ‘I said I’d think about it.’
‘What’s to think about? It’s only two days a week and it’s not a bad place to work. Not now we’re rid of that cow.’
‘Joe!’
‘What? I’m not going to pretend I care. We were all glad to see the back of her.’
‘I know she wasn’t very nice, but she didn’t deserve to die.’
‘Didn’t she? Not many around here would agree with you. Not that they’d have the guts to admit it.’
*
Saturday was a cold, breezy day, but the sun shone and Aoife longed to be outdoors. Jason had taken the car to work, and she no longer felt comfortable walking around Kildare. By lunchtime she had convinced herself she was worrying about nothing. She put Amy in the buggy and walked to the train station, looking behind every few minutes. Nobody followed them. The train was pulling into Heuston Station when Jason phoned.
‘Hi, sweetheart.’ Aoife held the phone in place with her shoulder while she put Amy in the buggy. ‘How’s the work going?’
‘Fine. What’s all that noise? Where are you?’
‘I’m just getting off the train.’
‘You’re in Dublin? Why?’
‘No reason. I just felt like window shopping.’
‘I can finish here in a half hour. Why don’t we meet for coffee and I’ll give you a lift home?’
‘You said you had to work all day. Don’t stop because of us. I’m looking forward to shopping, and it’s silly to waste my train ticket.’
‘But—’
Aoife was now on the platform, and the combination of the train engines and the PA system was deafening. ‘I’m sorry, honey, I can’t hear you. I’ll ring you later. Bye.’
Aoife spent a pleasant hour looking around Grafton Street, then took Amy to Stephen’s Green to see the ducks. Their section of the park was deserted. Aoife could see people in the distance crossing the footbridge, but as they were out of earshot, she felt comfortable singing ‘The Ugly Duckling’ to Amy. She was laughing at Amy’s excited babbling when movement on the bridge caught her eye. A man was standing there staring down at them. Although his head was uncovered, Aoife knew immediately it was the man in the hoodie. She did a quick scan of the park and was relieved to discover they were close to a side exit. As she grabbed the buggy, she glanced up at the bridge. The man had disappeared. Had he taken the main exit? Aoife hurried down Dawson Street and almost ran to the Luas stop in Abbey Street. She looked behind her every few minutes, but the streets were jammed with young men. Any one of them could be her stalker.
*
That evening Aoife had one eye on the clothes she was ironing and one on the TV. When Jason’s programme ended and five minutes of flicking through the channels hadn’t unearthed anything worth watching, she decided it was as good a time as any to mention Laura’s offer.
‘We agreed you wouldn’t work until Amy started school.’
‘You suggested that, Jason. I wasn’t sure it was a good idea. We need the money.’
‘Amy needs you at home. I will take care of the money. I knew I should never have agreed to you working for a week. You’re sick of being a mother already, aren’t you? You can’t wait to get out of the house.’
Aoife put down the iron. ‘You know I love being a mother, and you know I only took the week’s work so I’d have a little extra money for your birthday present. But, now you mention it, looking after a baby twenty-four hours a day is harder than you could imagine. I wouldn’t mind a break, and this is a great opportunity, Jason. It’s not easy to get part-time work, especially not two days a week.’
‘Why would you even want to work in that place after what happened? They nearly killed Amy.’
‘It wasn’t DCA’s fault I went into labour, and they’ve been really good to me. Laura came to the hospital every day and they all bought Amy that beautiful present.’
‘Huh! They were probably afraid you’d sue them.’ Jason switched off the TV. ‘Do you really want to go in there e
very day? Where you saw that corpse hanging—’
‘Jason, don’t! You know I don’t like thinking about that.’
‘Exactly. So why would you want to go somewhere you’ll have to think of it every day?’
‘Laura knows I don’t want to go into that room. She’s never asked me to.’
‘That’s fine for a week, but if you’re going to be working there long-term, you’ll have to go in there all the time.’
‘Laura and Joe spent a weekend decorating it. They repainted it and swapped furniture with other offices. Joe says I wouldn’t recognise it now.’
‘Why go near the place at all? I never thought it was a good idea keeping in touch with Laura. You don’t need a reminder of that day.’
‘I can cope. I like working for Laura.’
‘What about Amy? I won’t have her in some crèche, not even for two days a week.’
‘Maura enjoyed having her this week. I think she’d be happy to look after her.’
‘Mum has a life of her own, as you keep reminding me. A week is one thing, but she’s not going to want to commit to something that ties her to the house for two days every week.’
‘If she doesn’t, I’ll tell Laura I can’t take the job.’
Jason smiled. ‘That’s all right, then. I knew you’d want what’s best for Amy. I’ll make tea. Want some?’
Aoife picked up the iron. ‘I’ll get some later. I need to finish these shirts while I still have the energy.’
FOUR
‘I’m not imagining it. It’s happened five times now. Someone is definitely following me.’
The middle-aged guard raised his eyebrows. ‘So you say. But you only know two of the dates, your only description is a young man with a black hoodie, and you can’t even be sure it wasn’t five different men.’
‘It was the same man.’
The guard sighed and glanced over his notes. ‘This man generally follows you around Kildare. He’s followed you to the shops, the park and the train station but he never gets on the train.’
‘That’s right.’
‘And he didn’t follow you to the train on Saturday.’
‘No.’
‘So how could he have followed you to Stephen’s Green? He wasn’t even wearing a hoodie. There’s no earthly reason to suppose it was the same man.’
‘It was him. I felt it.’
‘Oh right, we’re in the realm of women’s intuition now? I think you’ve been watching too much TV. If a man had been following you for’—he looked at his notebook—‘three months, don’t you think he would have approached you by now? He hasn’t spoken to you or threatened you. No crime has been committed.’
‘Are you saying he has to attack me before you’ll do anything?’
‘We can’t arrest every man in a black hoodie who walks in the same direction as you. Look, I’ll tell you what I’ll do. The next time you think you’re being followed, take a picture with your phone, bring it here and we’ll look into it.’
‘How can I take his photo? He never gets close enough for me to see him.’
‘If he keeps his distance, he’s not much of a threat, is he?’
‘But—never mind. Thank you for your help.’
As she left the station, Aoife felt tears pricking her eyelids. She wanted to believe she was overreacting, but after three months, she was convinced she had a stalker. If only she could discuss it with Jason, but he’d panic and refuse to let her out of his sight, and Maura might feel obliged to tell him. The police had been her only hope and they obviously didn’t give a damn.
*
‘I’ve just got here, Jason. I won’t be long.’ Aoife disconnected the call and let herself into Maura’s house.
‘Sorry I’m late. How was she?’ she asked. Amy was fast asleep in the ancient blue playpen which occupied half of Maura’s kitchen. The playpen, a large rectangular monstrosity with bars, was Maura’s pride and joy. It had been in her family for three generations. ‘All my boys slept in this from the day they were born, and they played in it until they were three. You’ll never have to worry about Amy while she’s in this house,’ Maura had said. Aoife detested it. The playpen might be practical but she hated seeing her daughter behind bars.
‘Oh, she’s a dote, Aoife. Sit down and I’ll put on the kettle. I don’t know what I’d do without her. I was wondering how I’d cope when Evan went to college. Pilates classes and shopping can only occupy so much of your day.’
‘Well, remember, it’s only a trial period. You can change your mind at any time.’
‘Don’t worry about that, love. You leave Jason to me.’ She threw her eyes up to heaven. ‘Trial period indeed! I don’t know why you let him boss you around. Twenty-three is far too young to be stuck in the house with a baby all day. You have every right to work if you want to. You’re obviously very good at it. How many other people have DCA asked back after only working for them for one day?’
‘Well, considering the circumstances, they weren’t likely to forget me, and Laura asked for me because we stayed in touch. I don’t think it was anything to do with my work.’ Maura handed her a cup of tea. ‘Thanks. I’m glad you enjoyed having Amy, because I have a favour to ask. Would you mind taking her an extra day each week?’
‘I’d love to. Are you going to be working three days? That’s fantastic, Aoife.’
‘No, this is something else. My job won’t bring in much money, and Jason can’t keep working the hours he’s doing now. We hardly see him. So I’ve decided to try journalism again.’
‘I thought you hadn’t made any money from that?’
‘Nobody was interested in anything I wrote, but how many people have first-hand experience of a murder? It would be stupid not to write about it. Someone’s bound to print it.’
‘I never understood why the police decided that woman was murdered. Didn’t you say she committed suicide?’
‘That’s what it looked like to me, but the autopsy said it was murder.’
‘Why?’
‘I don’t know. The police haven’t spoken to anyone in DCA since they finished examining the crime scene and interviewing everyone.’
‘Will the police talk to you?’
‘Not a hope, but they always appoint a family liaison officer to keep the next of kin informed. I checked Delia’s HR file. We all have to fill out a next of kin form in case of emergencies, and Delia listed her sister Irene. I took her phone number and address and I’ve spoken to her. She seems anxious to talk to me.’
‘Couldn’t you be fired if someone found out you’d taken her details from the file? Isn’t that information confidential?’
‘Yes, but Irene’s not going to say anything and I won’t tell anyone we’ve spoken. The thing is, you can’t mention this to Jason. He’d think investigating a murder would be too upsetting for me.’
‘I won’t tell him, but I won’t lie to him either. I don’t like this sneaking around, Aoife. Keeping secrets isn’t good for a marriage.’
‘I’ll tell Jason once I’m sure it’s going to work out. I might start interviewing people and find there’s not enough material for a story. There’s no point upsetting him over nothing.’
Aoife’s phone rang.
Maura’s lips tightened. ‘Can I talk to him, Aoife?’
‘Sure.’
‘Jason, Aoife and I are having a chat. She will leave when we have finished talking and not one second before. Goodbye.’
Aoife looked at her. ‘Is everything okay with you two? You get this look on your face if I even mention his name.’
Maura drank her tea in silence for a few minutes. ‘We had a fight a while back. Jason has a lot of good points, but sometimes he makes me so furious I could throttle him.’
‘I know it’s none of my business, Maura, but I don’t like to see you arguing.’
‘Don’t worry about it. That boy and I have been fighting since the day his father left. I think deep down he blames me.’
‘I’m su
re he doesn’t. He’s always said he doesn’t know how you managed to raise five boys on your own. He’s never forgiven his father, though.’
‘He’s not the only one. What kind of man walks out on his family without even saying goodbye? Ten years without a phone call, or even a postcard! I could understand if he didn’t want to talk to me, but why not phone the boys? In a way, I could even understand him wanting to escape. It wasn’t his choice to marry at nineteen. His family pressurised him into it when I got pregnant with Jason. I suppose he hit thirty and realised life was passing him by, so instead of having the guts to talk to me—’ She grinned at Aoife. ‘Sorry, my bitterness is showing.’
‘I’m not surprised. I can’t even imagine what it was like.’
‘Let’s just say, it wasn’t a lot of fun. The boys were so upset.’ She shrugged. ‘I suppose I should be grateful he at least sent us money. If he’d just disappeared, I might have spent the rest of my life wondering if he was dead or alive.’
Amy screamed and Aoife lifted her out of the playpen. ‘I’d better get her home.’
‘Okay, love. Just remember, don’t make the same mistakes I did. You need a life of your own. I’m not saying Jason would ever run out on you, but I never would have believed his father was capable of doing that either. You tell that boy you are going to work and that’s the end of it.’
Aoife laughed. ‘If there’s one thing I’m absolutely certain of, it’s that Jason will never leave me. He doesn’t want me to work because he had a full-time mother when he was little. He just wants the same for Amy.’
‘Is that what he wants?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Don’t mind me. It’s none of my business. You’re both happy and that’s what counts.’
*
Aoife sipped her coffee as she jotted down notes for her meeting with Irene. Her hospital appointment had ended early, and as there was a two-hour gap between trains, she had walked from Holles Street to Nassau Street and treated herself to a croissant and a cappuccino. Time to herself was a rare luxury these days, and she wanted to be fully prepared for her meeting. The elderly lady sitting opposite her had other plans. She had already asked Aoife her age, marital status and how many children she had.