“Never more than one,” she protested defensively.
The conversation went on in general terms again and then the doctor was back to the point.
“I hear you and Michael are going abroad for a while?”
“So he tells me.”
“What do you think about it?”
“This house,” Ann stood up and waved her hands about. “I hate it with a passion. When Michael brought me here his mother was in charge. I was not allowed to lift a finger. ‘Leave it to the maids’ or ‘that’s the cooks job.’ The old bitch, she never let me change anything.”
“She is long dead now.”
“I know,” Ann sat down with a sigh. “I know, but I still can’t change it. Not after all these years. I just sit around and drink. Everyone is against me. The Gardener watches me, and the maids, and the parish committee. They are so stuffy.” Ann spoke bitterly.
When Dr. Miller left nearly her an hour later he left Ann sitting on her sofa finishing another gin. Ann’s eyes were shining, partly from the drink, partly from the chance the Doctor had given her to talk. Michael never talked to her. He always told her. She sipped her drink and let the Doctor go. She was uneasy. He had said nothing and done nothing, not even an examination. But she did not trust him.
Michael was waiting in the Library off the main hall. He indicated to Dr. Miller to come in.
“Well?” he asked.
Dr. Miller considered his verdict. “She is an alcoholic. I presume you know that?”
“An alcoholic?” From the tone of Michaels reply the Doctor knew this was news to him.
“It’s worse than that,” he continued.
“Worse?”
“Yes. This business at the jumble sale. From my discussions with her I think she is in the early stages of Schizophrenia.”
“Jesus, what is that?”
“It is a behavioural problem. Not quite split personality. She has moods, is detached from reality, and thinks people are out to get her. If you do nothing her behaviour will become increasingly bizarre. She will withdraw and become increasingly unsocial.”
“Can she be cured?”
“Alcoholism first needs her to recognize the problem. In her circumstances that may be difficult. She needs treatment. With the right programmed of medication schizophrenia can be brought under control. But she needs help now.”
“What do you recommend Doctor?”
“Committal.”
“Committal, do you mean to a mental home?” Michael was shocked.
“Mental hospitals are not what they were. Your wife can go private. I can find a suitable private clinic.”
“For how long?”
“For a few months I’m afraid.”
“I need to get abroad soonest. It’s a tax matter.”
“A clinic abroad would probably be just as good.”
“What do you need in order to commit her?”
“Your consent. And she will be checked by a second Doctor and that is it.”
“What happens then?”
“She loses all rights until discharged. If you commit her in Ireland it is unlikely to affect your own tax status and it has the advantage of being easier to achieve.”
“I’d have to go abroad alone then?”
“Where are you going?”
“I’m not sure. I fancy Cannes or San Tropez.”
“Lucky you.”
“And she would just be locked up and treated.”
“Yes, your children can visit her. She might be better to be treated in Ireland. Surroundings are more familiar and secure.”
Michael considered. “Do what is necessary,” he then said decisively. “But see if you can leave it a fortnight. We want to throw a weekend party before we go into tax exile. Can she handle that?”
“Yes, I suppose so. If you can keep an eye on her. I’ll give a prescription for some drugs. See she takes them.”
“I appreciate your help Dr. Miller.”
“No problem. I’ll make the arrangements for the end of the month. Seriously she needs attention. As a holding operation I’ll give you a prescription, persuade her to follow it. She has to be stabilized.”
“The drink?”
“Ah now, no drink with prescription drugs. If she is drinking, hold the drugs, but watch her. She needs support. It’s a slow burn thing, another couple of weeks probably won’t matter too much, though in truth I would like to commit her now.”
“Do me a favour. Hold off. I want time to tell her. And we have been planning this party. I think it would do her more harm than good to miss it.”
“Party, what sort of a party?” The doctor was never adverse to a party.
“Family and business. Dorothy wants to bring her young man down for the weekend to show him off. We suspect something may be in the wind.”
Michael winked and the doctor laughed.
“Also,” Michael added, “I have a need to get some business people down for the weekend to close a deal I have on the boil. All in all I think it would be better if Ann was around.”
“Sounds like it might be strenuous for her,” the doctor said doubtfully.
“Look doctor, how can I have a potential son-in-law down to the house for a weekend and say, oops sorry, I had to send Dorothy’s mother to the Looney bin. Don’t you think the young man might have second thoughts?”
“I take your point,” the doctor considered. “You would have to watch her carefully. Get her to cut down on the drink and I can prescribe something.”
“Excellent Doc., I promise, treatment within the fortnight. Just give her what it takes to keep her afloat for another two weeks, then we’ll do the necessary.”
“If you undertake to be careful and keep an eye on her.”
“Done.”
Michael saw the doctor out. He was delighted at how cooperative the local doctor was. He went back to Ann.
“What did he say?” she demanded.
“Cut out the drink for a fortnight. Can you do that? That or go to Hospital. He left some prescription for you. You have to follow it.”
Tears filled Ann’s eyes and Michael held her close. “Silly bitch,” he whispered fondly.
“Don’t worry I won’t misbehave again. You can trust me. I got so low.” Ann murmured through her tears.
Michael fixed himself another Brandy. Better watch myself, he thought. He stood with his back to the fireplace and watched his wife. She had switched on the TV and was focusing on a late movie, curled up with a gin in her hand.
Funny, he thought, the way her warmth had become more angular over the years. Of course she loved the house, maybe the thought of leaving had upset her. She was close with her thoughts these days. But no, at one point she had been a broader person with wide interests. In recent years she had seemed to focus down on sensation, the likes of drinks parties, meeting strangers, all occasions where the drinks were flowing and the crack was mighty. But she had grown raucous and harsh. And so withdrawn outside the big occasion. So suspicious of those who she dealt with, vindictive at times. Mind you she still tried, for example that parenting class, but then again they were fashionable.
Warming his rear at the fire, Michael wondered what it would be like to go to Cannes without her. Cannes because he had been there once before. But then maybe his tax accountant would say France was out. Of course he would be able to cut a dash with his share of the fifty million in his pocket. Not that he would be able to afford one of those private yachts. He would need a hundred million for that.
Michael smiled at his thoughts as they dwelled on young soft bare breasted women on the beaches. Yes indeed, he would cut a dash. But first he had to ring Crawford and confirm the deal was on.
First thing tomorrow he’d make the arrangements. He’d get Crawford to come to Dublin for a meeting. Better still, he would persuade Crawford to come down to the house for a weekend meeting. Thrash it out, get it done, and take the ball while it was still hopping, that’s what he’d do.
; “Let’s go to bed dear,” he said gently as he saw his wife had finished her gin.
Chapter thirty-three
The inner lawns of Merrion Square were set out with freshly laid circular flowerbeds. It was morning and the park had just opened. Around the outer railings artists could be heard setting up their paintings and having good-natured discussions. Each artist had a designated spot numbered and licensed by the City Council where they could setup and sell their work to the Sunday strollers who would visit the area.
Jeremy and Dorothy almost had the entire park to themselves. Everything was moist with early morning dew and the green of the grass was strong in the bright morning light.
Across the far side of the grass they could see a young woman with her man and pushing two small children in a double buggy.
“Do you like children?” Jeremy asked.
Dorothy smiled, looked at the children in the distant buggy and then quizzically at Jeremy.
“Do you love me?” he added nervously.
“In time you will understand how I love you Jeremy,’ Dorothy replied and gave him a hug, her arm about his shoulders.
Jeremy put his arm around her waist in response and then took her hand as they continued to stroll along. “Do you think we’d be good with children?” he asked.
Dorothy laughed.
“No worse than anyone else,” she offered. “Why Jeremy, how many do you want?”
Jeremy moved closer to her.
“How many would you want Dorothy?”
“One or two.”
“Boys or girls?”
“One of each, God willing.”
“God willing?”
“You know what I mean.”
“I’d want to be married in a church,” Jeremy said as they paused to look at one of the new flowerbeds.
They walked a little further.
“With David as your best man?” Dorothy mocked.
“Please Dorothy.”
“I really am the ‘other woman’, really Jeremy, you will have to tell him. We can’t go on talking like this.”
“Timing is everything.”
“Everything?”
Jeremy stopped and looked sternly at Dorothy. He met her eyes, wavered and met her eyes again. “Please understand Dorothy. Things are extremely busy at the moment.”
“Me too,” Dorothy raised her hands, fingers tensed as if in a mock scream. “O’Byrne’s are on the critical path with the AF takeover. Dad has invited Crawford over for next weekend so they can come to ‘Heads of Agreement.”
“Agreement in principle?”
“Yes, you know, price per share, timing subject to ‘due diligence audit,’ press statements and all that sort of thing. Everything has moved up a gear.”
“That makes two of us,” Jeremy said agreeably.
“What Jeremy?”
“Next week is also critical for us. Next week all hell breaks loose.”
“You tell David about us?”
“Don’t be facetious Dorothy. You know what I mean. In fact, I can’t dare rock the boat presently…”
“The Boat? Presently?” Dorothy interjected.
“Next week it all comes together. David and I must have a united front. It all leads into Friday when we open ‘David and Jeremy’s’ lead Irish store in Grafton street. There will be the ‘full Monty,’ press corps, Government minister, you name it, everyone who is anyone in Irish Fashion will be there.”
“And David?”
“Yes, me and my partner David will be at the centre, putting out a united charm offensive to the great and the good.”
“Sounds like lots of organising?”
“Yes Dorothy, but don’t worry we have a great team. My architect is top class and we have engaged a Press Agency to put the show together.”
“What are they called?”
“Elaine Publicity, the managing partner is a woman called Elaine; she seems to know her business. Have you heard of her?”
“No, but I’ll keep the name in mind, we’ll need good Public Relations when the AF takeover hits the presses.”
“After which you walk away?” Jeremy checked.
“Maybe.”
“Maybe Dorothy? Dorothy I need you to commit.”
“Jeremy, I need you to commit,” Dorothy replied, trying to make it sound light.
They walked on; they were almost at the exit. Dorothy wondered should she suggest another turn of the park.
“When the post launch party is finished on Friday,” Jeremy promised and Dorothy led him away from the gate to the path back around by the statue of Oscar Wilde at the corner of the park. “Then we can move on,” he added.
“And when does David arrive?” she asked.
“I told you about our horse, ‘Trapper.”
“Yes?”
“Trapper is going at Leopardstown races on the Friday afternoon.”
“And David?” Dorothy persisted, wondering was Jeremy trying to sidetrack her.
‘David arrives early Friday morning to be in place for the shop opening. The ceremonies run to lunchtime. Then we go to the races. That evening we have the launch party, and hopefully celebrate also if Trapper wins his race. You should put a few Euro on Trapper, I believe he is in with a great chance.”
“Where is the launch party?”
“Shelbourne Hotel, they are doing a special for us.”
“One of the best, it sounds hectic,” Dorothy conceded.
“Get used to it sweetheart,” Jeremy joked, with his imitation Humphrey Bogart accent.
“I still want you to come to my parents place for the weekend,” Dorothy insisted.
“You sure Dorothy, it seems like the O’Byrne family have enough on their plate already?”
“You and David,” Dorothy insisted.
“Both of us?”
“Jeremy!” Dorothy said. “I’ll cut one of those branches and take it to your backside!”
“Please Dorothy, not in public. When you are famous it is necessary to be very careful. Those Celebrity magazines, they are everywhere. Nothing must upset our launch. Take me home if you must chastise.”
“Jeremy, I’m not serious, just frustrated. Are you and David coming or not?”
“O.K. I’ll tell David.”
“I have to settle with you Jeremy, after next weekend you will be away again to another business deal somewhere else and heaven knows when I’ll see you again.”
“Commit Dorothy, come on the team and then we will be together always.”
“Don’t let me down, I couldn’t bear it,” Dorothy said and it was clear to Jeremy that she meant it.
“Tell you what Dorothy,” he offered. “You bring your family to our party in the Shelbourne. I’d prefer if our meeting were informal as it were. And David will meet your family. I’ll get Elaine to issue invites, everyone is invited…”
“Are you going to chicken out?” Dorothy asked.
“Then we’ll come down to your parents house on the Saturday when the store is launched and the dust has settled.”
“And you’ll talk to David?”
“I’ll have to. You’ll have to support me Dorothy. I’m so scared. I’m determined to move things along, don’t worry, but I’m scared half to death.”
Dorothy kissed Jeremy and he responded passively. Dorothy felt a mounting passion and pushed him against the statue of Oscar Wilde.
“Dorothy!” he said, and as she held him tight he kissed her.
“Dorothy please come on Friday night. I’ll need your support. David won’t be able to make a scene and it will prepare him for the weekend.”
“I’ll talk to Dad. He’s bound to point out that we have critical meetings of our own.”
“Remember what I said to you Dorothy.”
“What Jeremy?”
“Let it go Dorothy. Come fly with me.”
“Oh Jeremy.”
“Dorothy kissed him again.
“I love it when you take over,” Jeremy said breathle
ssly.
“I may take you home soon,” Dorothy replied.
“But you’ll come to my party?”
“I’ll be there Jeremy, because you need me to be there.”
“Then we’ll be there, in your parents house for the weekend, I promise.”
“Thank you Jeremy. It won’t be too bad. Dad is throwing a party. My Mom throws great parties. You and David will love it. At some point you can talk to my dad.”
“You want me to ask his permission?”
“Of course not Jeremy. You remember how rude he was when he met you?”
“The time Ann-Marie ran away?” Jeremy smiled.
“Well I want you to let him show you how nice he can be.”
“And your brother Peter?”
“Yes and my Mom. You have to meet them all.”
‘”What am I letting myself in for?”
“You need to decided when you will talk to David.”
“O.K.”
“O.K. Now we drop it Jeremy. I want you to take me for a walk around the square and we can look at the paintings, then I want you to take me for a nice cup of coffee.”
“And back to your place Dorothy?”
“Just do as I say Jeremy. I’ll tell you when I am ready to take you back to my place.”
“Tabasco?’ Jeremy asked.
“Just be patient Jeremy.”
“Yes dear.”
Chapter thirty-four
“I have limited time here today,” Michael O’Byrne explained.
Peter, Dorothy and John all nodded.
“Today I have omitted Dermot and James from our Board meeting as they have no part to play in the negotiations with AF.”
“When dad?” Peter asked eagerly.
“I made contact with Crawford’s Office today. I spoke to Christine his secretary, and I have everything in place. Time is short and we must be ready.”
‘What about O’Donoghue's?” John asked.
“We will use O’Donoghue to muddy the water and leverage the bid. We will position him as a white night to shake Crawford and the AF team.”
Twisted Love and Money Page 22