What Lies Hidden

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What Lies Hidden Page 4

by Fran McDonnell


  Grace took another deep breath. “All I know is that Anne was devoted to Tommy. Even if she was an alcoholic she would want to see her son and, to be honest, he would want to see her. I said as much to Thomas.”

  Isobel leant forward again. “What did he say?”

  “He said that he and Anne were taking advice from the workers in aftercare and that they were doing everything they could to make this work for Tommy. In the end I said that seeing his mother was the best thing for him. Thomas agreed but said that unfortunately it couldn’t happen just yet and he was doing his best to get everything right for everyone. He left shortly after that. I haven’t seen Anne. How was she when you saw her?”

  Isobel chewed her lip. “She was disinclined to talk, not even about Tommy. She seems very focused on getting her divorce sorted and has some future plans to see Tommy. She is sober and looking well. To be honest, I found it hard to know how she is . . . inside.”

  There was a lengthening silence.

  Then Grace rubbed her hands together. “I’m worried about Tommy. But if Thomas and Anne have agreed a plan and are getting help, what can I do? Thomas seems to be managing. He leaves Tommy to school. After school Tommy goes to an afterschool club and then Thomas comes home from work earlier to mind him.”

  “I see. It’s all been a bit of a shock to you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is there anyone else I could talk to who knew Anne well?”

  Grace tapped her fingers against her lips. “As I said, she never had that many friends but she did look after herself. I remember her mentioning her hairdresser in particular. The saloon is on the main street –Brushstrokes. I don’t remember the stylist’s name. Oh, and you could try the beautician. Anne used to get her nails done regularly. It’s also on the main street, the place with the pink sign – I don’t remember the name.”

  “Thank you, Grace, for being so honest. I really just want to help.”

  Grace looked down at her hands clasped on her lap. “I believe that. I suppose I just feel bad that I didn’t help Anne, that I didn’t realise she was struggling and was turning to alcohol.” She looked up at Isobel with eyes shimmering with tears.

  Isobel reached out and squeezed her hand. “You did what you could.”

  Grace nodded. “Talking to you, I realise how upset I am about everything.”

  “It is upsetting. But I think you’ll feel better having talked to someone about it all.”

  “I hope so.”

  “I’d better go.” Isobel got to her feet.

  Grace stood too. “If you see Anne please tell her that I was asking for her.”

  Isobel nodded, not trusting herself to answer that. She reached into her bag and pulled out a pen and scrap of paper. “Here is my mobile number. If you think of anything else or if you want to talk, give me a ring.”

  “I will, Isobel. Thank you for listening.”

  “Thank you for confiding in me. But, Grace, should you see Anne, please don’t tell her that I talked to you. I’m only trying to help, and I don’t want her to misunderstand and think that I’m going behind her back. Is that all right?”

  “Of course. I won’t say a word.”

  As she made her way out of the drive, Isobel wondered why she had given Grace her mobile number. She would be back in Ireland soon and miles away from the drama of the Banks marriage.

  Chapter 5

  Out on the street once again Isobel glanced at her watch: four thirty. She should have time to get to the hairdresser’s before it closed. As she walked along the street she noticed that the beauticians did indeed have a pink sign saying ‘Ladies Made’. Isobel kept walking, looking for Brushstrokes. As she approached, she could see through the window that there was a counter inside with a receptionist.

  Isobel swung open the door, a bright smile on her face.

  “Hi, my name is Isobel. A friend of mine, Anne Banks, who lives near here, recommended her hairdresser and I’m sorry but I just can’t think of the name she told me. I was wondering if I could see her?”

  The receptionist, a rather dapper man, tall with black hair, smiled. “Let me see,” he tapped on the computer facing him. “Oh yes, Tanya is her usual colourist and Aaron cuts her hair. Which are you looking for – a cut or a colour – or maybe both?”

  “Oh. I’m not sure. We talked about so many things I can hardly remember which she was particularly suggesting. I do remember that Anne is a regular with this person and has been for some time. Anne was sure that they could help me with my look.” She laughed and fluffed up her hair.

  He tapped on the computer keys a bit more. “Well, of the two, Aaron is here the longest and he’s a great cutter, so I imagine it’s Aaron.”

  “Is he here now? Perhaps I could have a quick word?”

  “He’s gone for the evening and he’s off tomorrow, and he’s also very booked up for the rest of the week.”

  “Oh no! Couldn’t he squeeze me in at the end of the day? Thursday or Friday?”

  “No, I’m afraid. He’s working right up to closing time each day, six o’clock on Thursday and eight on Friday.”

  “Oh. Why don’t you give me your card and I can always ring and make an appointment for next week when I see how my schedule is?”

  “Certainly. That would be excellent.”

  It was a shame. Isobel knew that a hairdresser could be like a confessor – they heard everything, especially if you’d been going to the same one for a while.

  Having had no success at the hair saloon, she made her way to the beautician’s. Using the same routine she asked the receptionist for the person who took care of Mrs Banks’ nails. Luckily Sharon was available for a manicure. In fact, Isobel’s nails had got quite brittle from the chemo so she was glad to settle down for a manicure and a chat.

  Sharon turned out to be about thirty, with long blonde hair and the heavily made-up face of someone very familiar with cosmetics. However, her smile was welcoming and her greeting showed her to be open and warm.

  Isobel picked out a colour for the shellac nails and got ready to go fishing for information.

  In the end it turned out to be relatively easy. Isobel mentioned that Anne had recommended Sharon which created a sense of relationship and then hesitantly she added that she hadn’t seen that much of Anne recently. Immediately Sharon jumped in.

  “No, I haven’t either and she used to come in every two weeks for her nails and every month for a leg-wax. She was one of my regulars, a lovely lady.” Sharon studied Isobel’s nails, eyes only on her work.

  Isobel said nothing, realising that Sharon was used to chatting as she worked and would probably get into a flow.

  “Anne talked non-stop about Tommy, her little boy. I have a little boy too. He’s four and we were always discussing the best way to be a good mother. To be honest, she was really helpful to me. Brandon, my little one, hardly slept for the first ten months. I was back at work and I was so tired. Anne was great, she used to bring me in information she’d found for me. That year was so hard. I wouldn’t have got through it without her help.” Sharon paused and looked up at Isobel. “She told me about someone she knew, their child wasn’t sleeping, was crying all the time, just like my Brandon. It turned out that the little one couldn’t tolerate the regular baby formula. When they switched to goat’s milk everything changed for them. She wanted me to try it because she knew I was at the end of my tether.” Sharon had forgotten about Isobel’s nails, lost in her story. “It’s more expensive but she brought me in one of the big containers because it made such a difference with this other baby. It worked a treat. Two days and no more colic – just sleep for him and me. Well, Brandon never looked back. You should see him now, as healthy as a horse!”

  Sharon gave a little start and resumed her buffing. Isobel made gentle murmuring noises. Sharon continued her monologue.

  “Anne knew that money was tight so, when she came to get her nails done, she brought me a container of goat’s milk formula every time until Bra
ndon got too big. She was amazing, so concerned and generous. I couldn’t have got through that year without her.”

  “That was kind of her.”

  “Yes.”

  Sharon had started to apply the colour.

  “How long is it since Anne was in?” Isobel asked.

  Sharon paused to consider then resumed her task. “She stopped coming in maybe three or four months ago. You’re her friend – will you tell her I miss seeing her? I know she’s a client but I kind of thought of her as a friend.”

  Isobel debated what to say. What was confidential and what was general information in the public domain? Reassuring herself that what Grace had shared with her was public and had come directly from Mr Banks, she said, “Anne’s neighbour told me that Anne is an alcoholic and has been to rehab. She and Mr Banks are getting a divorce and it seems that she’s not seeing Tommy at the moment until she has completely recovered.”

  Sharon stopped her work on the nails and stared.

  Isobel bit her lip. She realised that she had slipped up. If she really was a friend of Anne’s, she should have known all of this directly. She felt annoyed at herself for not planning her back story more thoroughly.

  “I don’t believe it. I just don’t believe it.”

  Isobel swallowed noisily but, before she could say anything, Sharon continued.

  “No way. My mother was an alcoholic and, believe me, I know the signs and Anne didn’t have them.”

  “It seems Anne was a secret drinker, when Tommy was at school. You don’t think that maybe she just fooled you, that she was clever?”

  “No way.”

  Isobel knew there was more than a grain of truth in what Sharon was saying. The hardest people to fool were the children of alcoholics because they’d seen it all before, experienced all the dodges. But, on the other hand, Sharon didn’t live with Anne and she couldn’t know all that went on. Hiding drinking was a skill most addicts developed.

  “Anne loved Tommy,” Sharon said. “She wouldn’t do this to him. She just couldn’t and no matter what happened, no matter what she’d done, she would always want to spend as much time as possible with him.” Sharon’s hands were still, her eyes focused on the wall but seeing another time. “Mind you, she never mentioned her husband. She never said anything bad, but she never said anything good either. He just didn’t figure. I asked her about that once. All she said was that sometimes marriages were not all they seemed – and that was it. She never spoke about him again to me. She just changed the subject if I brought him up.”

  Sharon studied the nails once again and continued with the painting and drying. There was silence now as they both thought about all that had been said.

  As she finished, Sharon grasped Isobel’s hand. “When you see Anne, will you tell her I was asking for her? She helped me so much. If there is anything I can do to help her, I will.” Her eyes filled with tears. “She saved my life. She cared about me and Brandon. Tell her not to forget us.” She shook her head. “I find all of this so hard to believe.”

  Isobel squeezed Sharon’s hand. “I’m sure Anne will be in touch when things settle down. I’m sorry if I upset you by telling you.”

  Sharon shook her head and, with a sad smile, led Isobel to reception.

  “I’ll give you my number,” Isobel said. “If you think of anything else that would help me understand, and help Anne, would you please let me know?”

  Sharon nodded. “I will. And don’t forget to tell her I was asking for her.”

  As Isobel walked out into the street, she wondered what Anne Banks would make of her mysterious friend Isobel McKenzie if she decided to reconnect with her old acquaintances. Thank God Peter hadn’t introduced her to the Banks by name in the office. Isobel glanced at her watch. It was six o’clock and she needed to collect her thoughts before she gave her report to Peter.

  Chapter 6

  Isobel arrived at Peter’s flat shortly before eight. He’d phoned her half an hour before to ask for her order of Indian food. Patricia arrived a few minutes later with the food. Peter had plates and cutlery laid on the coffee table in the sitting room so they could eat there.

  Peter and Patricia tucked in enthusiastically, but Isobel felt tense and, despite having been hungry earlier, she had lost her appetite.

  “Well, what do you think?” Peter asked. “Is there something going on?”

  Isobel had spent nearly an hour making notes on the meeting with the Banks and the other people she had talked to and then summarising them, but she spoke from memory.

  “I have two areas of concern.”

  Peter stopped eating. “Go on.”

  “My first concern is that Mr and Mrs Banks don’t have any emotional tension between them.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Isobel blew out through her lips. “Normally when people are in relationship, any relationship, there’s an atmosphere between them that you can feel. It’s also observable in how they relate to each other, or you can hear it in the tone of voice they use with one another.”

  Peter frowned.

  “Patricia and Mrs Brown work together – they have an atmosphere,” Isobel said.

  Patricia laughed. “Yes, she disapproves of me.”

  Isobel grinned. “You and Patricia work together and you have an atmosphere.”

  Patricia blushed.

  Isobel rubbed her hand on her forehead and hurried on. “Obviously, a marriage relationship has a very strong atmosphere, good or bad. So when a couple have reached the point where they’re going to divorce, they have a really palpable atmosphere. It could be anger, betrayal, hurt, hatred, indifference, fear. Whatever has brought them to the point of needing to divorce leaves an emotional charge, a residue, with the couple, and even if they have agreed equable terms there’s still that residual emotional charge that you can feel, or observe, or hear in how they relate to each other. My concern is that I couldn’t feel an emotional charge. Over time as people heal after a divorce it dissipates but initially it’s usually very strong. This divorce is happening now, a lot has gone on and I can’t feel any of that charge with this couple – it’s just not there.”

  “I’ve never heard of this,” Peter said.

  Isobel shifted in her seat. “You won’t have. This is my way of putting my impressions into words.”

  “But what does this impression mean?”

  Isobel could feel herself shrinking inside but he’d asked for her opinion and she was going to follow through. This is what she did with her clients, with the couples she worked with – she helped them understand what was between them and hopefully helped them heal it. She felt her shoulders tensing. This was what he had employed her for. Just because he mightn’t like what he was hearing, well, that wasn’t her problem.

  Peter frowned at her then looked at Patricia and back to Isobel.

  “The second thing I’m concerned about is that Tommy isn’t seeing his mother. When I talked to Anne today she seemed a bit distant from Tommy. Most people want to tell you about their children. She didn’t. Thomas talked more about kids and Tommy than she did. That could be because she’s in pain. All that Anne Banks is going through, alcoholism, divorcing, just getting out of rehab, moving out of her home, living in a new place, not living with her child, that’s a lot. Any, and all of these events, are hugely emotional and challenging. My previous experience with people just out of rehab, just starting a programme, is that they’re very vulnerable, upset, overwhelmed and emotional. I suppose I’m concerned that Mrs Banks isn’t more upset. Maybe she’s on tablets, maybe that’s dampening her mood, but I am concerned about this and how this might impact on her relationship with Tommy.”

  “So you agree with me that there’s something going on, that I’m not imagining it and my past isn’t causing me to make up problems?”

  “Tell me what has crossed your mind, what your concerns were.”

  Peter put down his fork. “I’m wondering if she’s a victim of spousal abuse who’s b
eing robbed of her assets and is too afraid, or too intimidated, to say it. If that’s the case I can’t be a party to that. If she’s in danger I’m not colluding with that.”

  Isobel made a face. “You’re not the only one who thinks that is a possibility. Let me share the conversations I had this afternoon.”

  Peter raised his eyebrows and looked intently at her.

  “Her neighbour, Grace, is concerned. Her background is as a social worker and she told me that when she met the Banks ten years ago she’d originally been concerned that Mr Banks might be abusive. The evidence was thin, as it often is in situations like that, but there were some bruises, a change in personality, extreme privacy issues, all of which are possible indications in abuse cases. She did ask Anne directly about abuse but Anne denied it, although that again often happens. Grace was really blindsided by the revelation of Mrs Banks as a secret drinker. But then again, that’s also frequently the case. She seemed very certain of Anne’s devotion to Tommy and is concerned about their lack of contact.”

  Peter and Patricia were both staring, food forgotten.

  “In addition, Sharon, the woman who has done Anne’s nails every two weeks for years, is convinced that she is not a drinker. She describes her as a woman who is devoted to Tommy – a very good mother. Anne Banks actually helped Sharon when she had a new baby and was having problems.”

  “That’s most surprising,” said Peter.

  The silence stretched.

  Isobel rubbed her face with her hands. “I agree that there is something not right but I’m not sure if him being controlling and abusive fits with how they were at the office.”

  “So you don’t think there is abuse there?”

  Isobel shrugged. “No, there may be and what I heard today supports that possibility – but I feel there is still something I’m not seeing.”

  “So you agree there is something off in the situation?”

  “God, yes – alcoholism, divorce, a child not seeing his mother. I think you’re right to be concerned about Anne’s unfavourable agreement and I feel we don’t have all the answers as to what is going on. But I’m sorry – I can’t put my finger on what is still bothering me.”

 

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