by Jackie Walsh
That doesn’t happen in the city. There were times I spent a whole night with people and the next day they ignored me. Just like that, no explanation. It was like I’d spent a night on some alternative planet and woke up the next day on earth.
‘You off now?’ Arthur says, punching the code into the keyboard to release the barrier. I roll down my window to hear him better.
‘Oops,’ he says, when the barrier won’t release. ‘I’ll give it another go, there seems to be a problem with it.’
‘It must be as bad as the alarm,’ I laugh, trying to make light of the situation.
‘The alarm?’ he says, punching the code in again.
‘Yes. Isn’t there a problem with the alarm?’
Arthur stands back and looks at the keypad.
‘Never had a problem with the alarm,’ he says, focused on the keypad.
Suddenly I’m on high alert again.
‘Does it not go off in the middle of the night? I thought I heard one of the girls say it did once or twice.’
‘Don’t know what they’re talking about. Maybe their home alarm goes off or something. Not this one.’
Arthur lifts his hand and grips his chin, staring at the keypad like he is doing a crossword.
‘So the factory alarm never went off in the middle of the night?’
‘Not in my time here. I’d know, I’m in charge of it. It never gave me any hassle, not like this load of shite.’
He lifts his foot and kicks the metal stand below the keypad, then turns to walk away.
‘Hang on, Laura. Sorry about this, love, I’ll have to release it from the operations desk.’
Arthur disappears into the small security shed. I’m barely able to move. When the barrier eventually lifts I drive through like a robot. This is unbelievable. Conor has been lying to me. Oh my God. What will I do? Where was he going all those nights he left the bed supposedly to fix the alarm? What was he hiding? Could he have been meeting Vicky Murphy?
It’s becoming hard to breathe. Pulling the car over to the side of the road, I step out into the air. I lean over the door and take deep breath after deep breath. Shay is still sleeping. He doesn’t know I just found out his daddy is a liar. A big liar.
Why would he say he was going to fix an alarm that wasn’t broken? What was he hiding? Did he kill Vicky Murphy? The card carves it’s message on my mind. Your husband is a murderer. Oh sweet Jesus, what will I do? I can’t go back to that house. I should have known this was all too good to be true. That just like me, this world I’ve infiltrated is also fake.
Chapter Fifty-Four
There’s only one place I can go. Dublin. I’m going to Amanda’s. I’ve tried to ring her three times but the phone keeps going to voicemail. She must be facilitating one of those stupid motivational sessions. Pick up, Amanda. Pick up. I toss the phone in through the window of the car and wipe my tears from my face.
Shay lies asleep, unaware his life has just changed dramatically. His little hands are holding one another and there’s a smile on his sleeping face.
I get back into the car and drive. I get as far as the bridge, the big fucking Call bridge, when I realise I have no supplies for Shay. I’ll have to go back. My heart is drilling a hole in my chest. I swerve around and speed towards the house. If Conor’s car is there I don’t know what I’ll do. I cannot go in. I can’t face him yet. I need to speak to Amanda.
With my head almost hitting the window, I lean forward to see if Conor’s car is in the driveway. It’s not. One blessing at least.
I park the car, leaving the car door open and hurry into the house. I grab nappies, clothes, bottles, formula, creams and push it all into one of the baby bags we were given as a christening present. Only yesterday. Jesus is this happening?
Rushing up to my bedroom, I open the drawer of my bedside locker and grab my credit cards and phone charger. Then I run down the stairs out the door and into the car. Shay is still asleep.
The evening shadows are following me as I drive down the road. Every inch of me is shaking but I have to do this. I need space to think. Conor has been lying to me all along.
The phone beeps on the seat beside me. I glance over and see it’s Conor. Deep breaths Laura, keep going. It rings out. He must be calling me to say he’s on his way home. Or else he’s already home and wondering where the hell I am.
When I reach the city I feel better. Less agitated. Lights shape the bridges and buildings that would otherwise be blurred by the darkening skies. The phone has rung three times. It’s Conor. I’m not answering. Not until I’m calm and settled in Amanda’s apartment. Then I’ll call. I have to. He’ll be worried about Shay. His son. The one I kidnapped. Oh Jesus, could I be arrested? No, he’s my son too. I haven’t kidnapped him. I’m saving him.
My mind is stretching out of proportion. I need to relax. Focus. Just because he lied about the alarm does not mean he killed Vicky Murphy. There could be some other explanation. But what about what Pat said about the motive? And why did Vicky Murphy send Conor a text? I need to speak to you asap. Conor told the police he never saw the text and I believed him but what if he did see it? Is that why he left the house? Did he go to meet her? My mind is going around in circles trying to make sense of it all.
When I get to Amanda’s apartment, I ring her phone again but there’s still no answer. Surely she must have seen my calls by now. I remember there’s a key in the next door neighbour’s apartment. Amanda leaves it there in case she loses her own. Rachel answers immediately.
‘Hi, Laura. Long time no see. Oh, and look is this the little…’ She smiles. She can’t remember.
‘Boy, it’s a boy… Shay.’
‘Oh, he’s lovely.’ Rachel bends down to Shay in the car seat.
I can’t do this. Not now. Can she not see my distressed face, my stinging red eyes?
‘I just need the key, Rachel.’
‘Of course, yes, sorry.’ Rachel goes back inside and comes out with the key.
‘Thanks,’ I say, walking away.
‘Laura… If you need anything give me a shout.’
I smile back at her. Then turn the key in Amanda’s door.
Chapter Fifty-Five
The room feels like a hug when I step inside. The large glass window looking out over the city. The yellow suede sofa that Amanda took weeks to decide upon, it was so out there. The green leather recliner in the corner. The white glass table on the multicoloured rug. It all looks so modern. So young. So not Ballycall.
I take Shay out of the car seat. He’s been cooped up in it for hours now. Resting him on the sofa, I flop down beside him. I can smell he needs to be changed but I need a minute to calm myself. To take a deep breath. To not jump out the big glass window.
Shay’s little legs kick and I cry again. Conor always says he is going to be a great footballer. He can tell already by the strength of his kick. I close my eyes and see Conor laughing, rolling Shay, trying to get him to kick Conor’s hands. What have I done?
The phone beeps again. I stand up to get it and throw it back onto the table as soon as I see it’s Maggie. Surely he hasn’t been in touch with her already? I’ve only been gone a couple of hours. I wish Amanda would hurry home. I need someone to talk to.
I change Shay’s nappy and prepare a bottle for him. The poor baby must be starving. But he hasn’t cried yet. I wonder if he senses something. Does he know not to cry when mammy is crying enough for both of us?
Shay has just about finished his bottle when the phone rings again. I let it ring out and wait until Shay has finished before checking it. It’s Amanda. I ring her back.
‘Hi, what’s the big news? I’ve four missed calls from you.’
When I hear her voice I burst into tears.
‘Laura, what’s up? What’s wrong?’
I struggle to get my voice to work but eventually I squeeze some words out.
‘I don’t know what to do Amanda. I’m here in your apartment. With Shay.’
There’s s
ilence for a minute and I can hear people calling Amanda in the background.
‘Laura, you’ll be okay. Stay where you are. I’ll be there as soon as I can.’
‘Okay.’ I cry again.
‘Laura, I have to finish off what I’m doing. There’s a crowd here from England. I’ll just take them to the restaurant and leave. I’ll be with you in a jiffy. Don’t do anything. Do you hear me, Laura?’
I mumble a yes and hang up the phone.
I need to find somewhere for Shay to sleep. I don’t want to leave him in the car seat all night. I look around the room but I can’t see anything that would do the job. I go to the bathroom where Amanda has a display of wicker baskets with towels and slippers and tissues and things. The one holding the towels looks like it might work. The basket is quite rough and I’ll have to cover it with something soft. Shay is used to sleeping in soft blankets, blue and yellow stars floating on the mobile above his head. I wonder if he’ll notice the noise here in the city. Panic rises inside me as I unload the towels from the basket. What am I doing here? Why did I take Shay from the comfort of his home to sleep like the baby Jesus in a strange house in the middle of the city? Again I cry. Again I look at the white clock above the door. Where is she? Where is Amanda? I can’t stand this. She must have had to stay for the meal. Just as the thought enters my head, confirmation beeps on my phone.
Sorry Sis, going to be a little while longer, hope you’re okay.
I send her a thumbs-up emoji. Then I take the basket into the main room where Shay is sleeping in the car seat.
‘Mammy’s going to make you your very own manger, Shay,’ I say, tears falling down my face. Doubt is flooding my mind. Did I react too hastily? Should I have told Conor what I knew? No. Then he would have just come up with some elaborate story. Yes, I should have given him a chance to explain. Oh, I’m not sure what to think. It would all be so much easier if I hadn’t just had a baby. I’ve heard so much about Conor’s past in the last few days I’m completely confused. I always believed Conor was a good man. That he loved me, loved Shay. And now I find out that he lied about leaving the house in the middle of the night. He could have been meeting Vicky Murphy. There are nights she wouldn’t have finished up at the bar until two or three in the morning. But even with all this circumstantial evidence that I’m concocting in my head – which is all it is – something is telling me I might be wrong.
The phone rings just as I’m padding the towel baskets with a soft throw from the back of Amanda’s sofa. My heart jumps. It’s him. It has to be Conor. He must be going ballistic. I reach over and lift the phone. A picture of Conor holding Shay the day he was born flashes on the screen. It was taken at the hospital not long after Shay arrived into this world. It was Conor’s first time to hold his son. Conor’s face says it all. I have never been happier.
I’ll have to answer. The longer I leave it, the harder it will be. Not to mention the fact that Maggie will have the army out searching for her grandson. They’re probably worrying that we’ve been in an accident.
My finger shakes as I drag it across the face of the phone.
‘Hello.’ My voice is a tiny whisper.
‘Laura, where are you?’
‘I’m at Amanda’s.’
‘Amanda’s? What are you doing there, is she okay?’
‘Yes.’
‘Is Shay okay? It’s very late to be travelling with him.’
I can tell from Conor’s voice he hasn’t a clue why I’m here and he doesn’t sound too happy that I am.
‘Laura, you should have told me you were going to Dublin. I’ve been worried sick and when you didn’t answer your phone…’ Conor pauses. ‘Laura, why are you in Dublin?’
The sound of Conor’s voice seems to minimise my fear to a pile of nonsense. I must stay strong.
‘Conor, I came to Dublin to get away from your lies.’
‘What lies? What are you talking about, Laura?’
‘All those nights you told me the alarm was going off, it wasn’t, was it? You left to meet her.’
‘Jesus, Laura, where is this coming from? Left to meet who?’
‘Vicky Murphy.’
‘Vicky Murphy?’
‘Yes. It makes sense now; you’re the one she was having the affair with. That’s why you wanted to shut your mother up that night. You couldn’t stand her gossiping because you knew you were the gossip.’
‘Laura, first of all, relax. You sound like you’re going to burst. Is Shay okay? Where is he now?’
‘Shay is fine, Conor. He’s asleep.’
‘Okay Laura, I’m on my way. Stay where you are. I will tell you exactly what is going on and it has nothing to do with Vicky Murphy.’ Conor hangs up and I sit on the sofa, phone in hand, heart in mouth. Tears are soaking my face. I grab a tissue out of the fancy glass box sitting on the side table. I switch on the lamp because the room has gone dark and I’m only noticing now. Lifting the phone, I take one last glance at the picture of Conor and Shay on the screen. My body is numb. I don’t know what I’m going to hear but I’m pretty sure whatever he’s about to tell me, I probably deserve it.
Chapter Fifty-Six
Amanda hasn’t arrived home yet. At this stage I’m hoping Conor gets here first, so I text her not to hurry away from her function, that I’m fine now, I’ll see her later.
Placing the throw back where it belongs, I walk with the basket to the bathroom and replace the towels. There’s a collage of photos on the wall in the small hallway facing the bathroom door. Moving closer, I look at myself as a three-year-old, a seven-year-old, a fifteen-year-old. Amanda is at my side in them all. There’s one with my mother. She’s holding both our hands. Me in a red coat, Amanda in a blue one. It was taken on O’Connell Street. Mam looks happy in it and so young; I forget how young she was when dad died. It must have been hard for her. Amanda is still in contact with her. I don’t ask how much or what’s going on anymore. We agreed that was best. Amanda suggested I wouldn’t be able to shift the pain if I didn’t shift its source. Which was right at the time, but now, since finding happiness, I think about her a lot.
Lifting my hand towards the photo, I caress mam’s face with my finger. I’m sorry Mam. I don’t think I ever said sorry to her at the time. Maybe I did. It’s all such a blur now. I don’t know.
To my left, Amanda’s bedroom door is ajar. I take a deep breath and move away from the photo. Maybe I should put on some makeup before Conor arrives. He doesn’t need to see this face. Amanda won’t mind if I use hers.
When I eventually find the light switch I go into her room to a small mirrored dressing table against the wall. The room is tiny compared to my bedroom. It could probably fit into my walk-in wardrobe. But it’s cosy and full of beautiful things.
I sit down on the little stool at the dressing table and look at the makeup. Foundation, great, I’ll have some of that. My face is stinging from the ordeal so I search for some moisturiser which is not on the dresser so I open the drawer. My hand is rummaging around when I realise I’m touching an envelope. I pull the drawer out further and lift the envelope in my hand. I know it’s none of my business but curiosity has always been a weakness of mine. Amanda says I’m just pure nosy. She might be right.
There are a few sheets of A4 pages inside which I pull out. It all looks very official. I read the words printed at the top of the page and my heart stops. What the fuck? Why has Amanda got this in her dresser?
The doorbell buzzes. It must be Conor because Amanda has a key. I take the envelope with me and switch off the bedroom light.
The baby bag is sitting in the middle of the table so I shove the envelope into it. I don’t want her having that here, anyone could find it. It should be locked away somewhere. With me. Or better still, burnt.
Conor is standing in front of me when I open the door. He’s white as a ghost. Immediately he puts his arms around me and hugs me tightly. Tears, more tears. Conor releases his hold on me and puts his hands on my shoulders. He looks at
me with worried eyes. ‘What must you be thinking?’
I shake my head and turn away from him.
‘I’m thinking what I’ve been led to think.’
He follows me into the room and immediately goes over to where Shay is sleeping. He places his hand gently on Shay’s head. I glance over to the bag where I shoved in the envelope and pray Conor finds no reason to go to it. If he sees what’s inside, the game is over.
‘Well?’ I say, crossing my arms, waiting for Conor to speak.
‘Laura, come, sit down.’ He sits on the sofa and reaches his hand out to me. He’s beginning to show the signs of stress. Maybe it’s the light in here but it’s the first time I’ve noticed a grey hair on his head. His skin too is beginning to look dry. Unlike the athletic sparkle I’ve become used to.
‘There is something I need to tell you, Laura. I didn’t think I’d have to. I thought it was all over. But now I realise you deserve to know the truth. I’m sorry this has caused you so much pain.’
I move over to the sofa and sit beside him, but not too close. I need to hear what’s going on before I do that. When I see the anguish in his eyes, my heart prays that there’s a good explanation for what’s happened. But my head is warning me not to get too comfortable. This man has lied to me.
Chapter Fifty-Seven
It all happened when Conor’s father died and he dutifully took over the company. Everything was in good shape. Seamus had left it that way. And it stayed that way for a while until Conor could no longer look at the vat in which his father had been trapped that tragic day.
Disguising it as a bold business move, Conor changed the system to a newer, modern one that could produce twice as much beer in the same amount of time. It cost a lot of money to install the new system. The company borrowed it.
Everything went well at first. Out with the old and in with the new seemed like a good idea. Until it wasn’t. The orders never came in to match the amount of beer they were now producing. The bank wanted its money. Things got tough.
