‘You really are the carbon copy of your mum.’ A strand of Abbie’s auburn hair slinked from her ponytail and swung across her face and Sarah reached to hook it back before she took a photograph that stood in a silver frame from the second shelf. It was a photo of Sarah and Jenny that had been taken on their first day in school. Jenny’s auburn curls bounced around her shoulders and the side of her hair was pulled back with an oversized royal blue bow to match the school jumper they were both wearing over their navy pinafores. She was acutely aware that Abbie was looking at her expectantly, waiting for her to say something. ‘Good old days,’ she managed.
‘I used to love it when you two got a few glasses of wine into you and started talking about the good old days.’ Abbie sniffed.
‘You know, it was your mum who was the strong one,’ Sarah said, sifting through each and every memory as though she were perusing books on a library shelf. ‘It was her who got me through everything I had to go through, so now it’s my turn to do the same for you, okay?’
‘Okay,’ Abbie said and as they sat in silence together, Sarah’s eyes wandered around the room. Abbie was right, it did feel odd to be there without Jenny. When they had first come home after six that morning the sun was just peeping up from the horizon, colouring the kitchen in a hazy kaleidoscope of pinks and yellows but now with the sun a little higher in the sky and the haze lifted, the kitchen looked bland, grey and almost empty. The surfaces had all been cleaned and the normal hustle and bustle of function had been cleared away and in its place was order and organisation, the type that Sarah had only ever seen in Oakley Drive years ago, before a planned event. ‘Someone’s been busy.’ Her eyes were drawn to the order of the normally disordered console table by the kitchen door. ‘I presume it wasn’t you or Josh?’ She lifted a ruby-red apple from the oversized wooden bowl on top of it. Normally it housed an impressive array of items that had yet to reach their destination, like charging cables intertwined like spaghetti, bunches of seldom used keys, an armful of bangles that Abbie intended to put back into her jewellery box four weeks ago or a packet of indigestion tablets that were never found when they were needed. ‘Who did all this?’ Sarah asked but she didn’t need Abbie to answer. The changes were subtle and almost invisible to the naked eye, but they had Liam Buckley written all over them.
‘Me and dad did, over the weekend.’ Abbie was almost proud as she told her. ‘We just wanted everything to be nice, be a new start for…’ She was overcome with tears before she could squeeze out the word ‘Mum’.
‘That’s lovely, honey.’ Sarah’s words didn’t match how she felt. She wanted nothing more than to change the lenses in Abbie’s rose-tinted-daddy-glasses for her. If she hadn’t made a promise to Jenny, she would have done it by now. Liam Buckley was a prick, a prick who shoved his hand into her best friend’s rib cage and ripped her heart clean out. He knew that Jenny was sick, he knew that she needed him, that the kids needed him, but he left anyway, all so he could shack up with his girlfriend of two months without any care in the world. What type of man did that?
It had been Sarah who’d picked up the pieces after Liam had left, who sat night after night, when the kids had gone to bed, reassuring Jenny that things were going to be okay, that she would be by her side every step of the way, whatever the future held. She listened to her crying herself to sleep with fear about her illness and what would happen to the kids if she passed away before they were old enough to fend for themselves. Liam leaving, coupled with the diagnosis of motor neurone disease, was like Hurricane Katrina leaving her in ruins just like it had New Orleans. Sarah had been the one to painstakingly sift through the rubble, salvage what she could and do everything she could to rebuild her. They had been through the storm together and there wasn’t anything that she wouldn’t have done for her. They had the deepest, most unbreakable friendship. ‘Your mum would’ve loved that,’ she said, the words stuck in her throat as she realised she was already referring to Jenny in the past tense. Nothing in Jenny’s home would be the same again and there was nothing she could do about it now. Liam Buckley had only been back in the house two days and already things had changed, all evidence of the life that had been there before him erased. He had tidied away Jenny’s very existence so that all that remained was for him to swan back into 26 Oakley Drive as though he had never left.
‘Do you think Dad will be home soon?’ Abbie didn’t feel the tear that weaved its way down her face as she spoke. ‘It’s already eight o’ clock.’
‘I’d say so, love.’ Sarah followed Abbie’s eyes to the clock on the wall and then wrapped her arms around her. ‘I’d say he won’t be much longer,’ she spoke softly into Abbie’s hair and waited for her breathing to settle and her stiffened body to soften. She had no idea how long Liam would be but that was nothing new, Liam Buckley only ever thought about what was important to him and how he was going to get it. Why was she the only one that saw it?
‘I’m going to go grab a shower then, if that’s okay?’ Abbie asked.
‘Of course, I’ll wait for your dad to come home and then I’ll head off too. You know,’ she smiled at Abbie, ‘your mum loved you very much.’
‘Every much,’ Abbie corrected her, smiling back. ‘Mum always thought that very wasn’t enough,’ she explained.
‘Every much,’ Sarah repeated and watched Abbie make her way into the bathroom in the hall. She waited until she heard the hum of the shower before she wandered into the front room where all of Jenny’s things were.
2.
Louise pulled into her designated parking spot outside their rented house on Beech Avenue. Even though the house was a five-minute stroll to the pier and a bare stone’s throw from the train station, as far as she was concerned, it was still a compromise house with only two of the three bedrooms they had originally hoped for and only one bathroom upstairs. Her hopeful notions of finding the perfect house in Dublin had long since been abandoned and in its place a realisation that both she and Kelly had no option but to downsize their expectations if they wanted to live in the seaside suburb within twenty minutes of the city. The soul-destroying early Saturday morning ritual of traipsing from viewing to viewing with a hoard of young hopefuls who had yet to have their dreams crushed, had seen to that. She pulled her bag from the passenger seat and made her way into the house.
‘Hey.’ Kelly met her in the hall, a paint tray in his hand.
‘This looks busy,’ she commented. The large porcelain tiles that the landlord had fitted from the front door to the back were covered in a collection of old sheets and no longer used duvet covers, music was blaring from the TV and a step ladder stood in front of the wall of the front room.
‘It is busy, I am busy… you’re home early,’ he said, a concerned look on his face. Her shift had started at 6 a.m. and he wasn’t expecting to see her until at least 6 p.m. that evening which would have given him loads of time to finish the painting and air out the rooms before she returned. He had planned on having dinner ready too so her arrival at eight in the morning was unusual. ‘Is everything okay?’ he asked. Splatters of paint were everywhere on his person, making his already grey peppered hair appear even more speckled and if it hadn’t have been for Bruce Springsteen on the front of his T-shirt, it could have been mistaken for a 1950s polka dot design.
‘Yes, fine, I just decided to bring home some paperwork instead seeing as it’s a bank holiday; it’s really only uniforms in today and I can go back in if they need me.’ On the drive back to the house she had decided that she wouldn’t tell Kelly what was going down straight away. She needed to get her own head around it first, process her thoughts and examine all the information she had. Besides, he was knee deep in painting and if he had picked up even a hint of her stress he would have downed tools, wrapped her in bubble wrap and laid her down in a room made of cotton – and that would help no one. It had been two weeks now since they had moved in. The house had been turned upside down, it was too close to being finished to
not see it through and as soon as all the jobs were done, Kelly would be able to get back into his routine of heading to Kilkenny on a Tuesday to see his sister. Annie loved her life in Cúram House in Kilkenny, the care facility that she shared with other adults with Down Syndrome but Louise hated to think that her sister-in-law to be would be upset if Kelly didn’t visit as was planned., especially if she was the reason. Hopefully, he’d be finished by lunchtime. She’d tell him all about the case then.
‘Oh,’ he replied. ‘What do you think?’ He wore a contented smile on his face as he gestured towards the nearly finished room. As soon as Louise had left for work, he had started in earnest.
‘It looks great, Kelly,’ Louise answered as she walked the perimeter of the room inspecting the walls. ‘This colour looks really good,’ she added as she examined the precision with which he had cut in along the door frames and skirting boards.
‘I know it’d be better if it was our forever home, but this—’ he scanned over all his hard work ‘—will make it feel a little more like a family home.’ His eyes landed on her baby bump. He would have put his arms around her had the paint on his hands not been wet.
‘It is our family home, and it looks perfect,’ she said, rubbing her stomach. They had saved enough for a deposit to buy a house of their own but qualifying for a mortgage was proving a little more difficult. Louise’s wage, even though she had just been promoted to Detective Sergeant at Blackrock Garda Station, wasn’t enough on its own and with Kelly having taken early retirement at the age of fifty-seven, their mortgage term was restricted to thirteen years. So, until they sold Kelly’s family home on Castle Street in Kilkenny, they’d be renting. It was disappointing not to have bought their own place but at least it was only temporary. ‘There could be a full-time job in it yet for you.’ She grinned, running her finger along the door frame checking for splashes. ‘You know, if the “crusading in the corporate realm” thing doesn’t work out.’
‘Crusading in the corporate realm.’ He laughed at her turn of phrase, he had heard private investigating referred to as many things but never that. Friends of his, also early retirees that had joined the force when rules were different and thirty years’ continued service qualified them for early retirement were already working on a freelance basis as private investigators for several of the big law firms based in Dublin. With this in mind and the fact that Louise had taken a promotion in Dublin, he had taken his retirement at the age of fifty-seven, two years after he had qualified for it. Had he known the baby was on the way he wouldn’t have taken it at all, they could have done with another full wage. ‘Or you know, you could just refer to it like normal people do, as in… investigator?’ His shoulders bounced up and down as he laughed.
‘Crusading just sounds much cooler,’ she said.
‘If a little batman-y,’ he laughed. ‘But I suppose, it does help that I’m sleeping with one of the foremost formidable detective sergeants in the city who might be able to give a helping hand to a private investigator every now and then.’
‘There is that, although all favours, whether sexual or not, will be counted and paid for or called back on at a later date.’ She warned.
‘’I’ll look forward to it, but—’ he was reluctant to get his hopes up in case the promise of work fell through ‘—nothing is finalised yet,’
‘I know.’
‘And I want to make sure everything here is done first,’ he added. The move from Kilkenny to Dublin had gone as smoothly as possible, helped in part by the fact that Louise had done a massive clear-out of surplus items that the house on Castle Street had accumulated while Kelly had lived there. What was deemed good enough to keep, filled ten plastic boxes and had been pallet-wrapped for the move, along with each and every one of their suitcases stuffed to the brim with clothes. Each week, box by box, their Kilkenny lives were folded, filed and packed carefully before they were loaded inside the boot of Kelly’s Volkswagen Passat and driven the two hours to their new house in Dublin. The bigger furniture items in the house in Kilkenny were left and Louise had instructed the auctioneer to include them with the sale. They were both hoping a sale would happen sooner rather than later, especially now with the baby on the way.
‘Well, it’s looking pretty close now.’ Her eyes wandered around the room. Who would have thought that in the space of a year, she would have got engaged, he would have taken early retirement, she would have been given a promotion to Detective Sergeant, they would have moved to Dublin and there would be a baby on the way? It was all pretty surreal.
‘Anyway, why are you really home early?’ Kelly asked, the paperwork at home excuse she had used earlier hadn’t fully convinced him and he was worried that she wasn’t feeling well. ‘Are you feeling okay because you shouldn’t really be in these fumes?’ Kelly said tentatively. She had already warned him that there was a fine line between showing concern for her in her newfound condition and being overprotective, ‘I just don’t want to be responsible for poisoning you.’ He smiled, trying to lighten his tone.
‘Yes, yes, I’m perfectly fine.’
‘So are you still coming with me tomorrow then?’ he asked. The reason she had elected to work on a bank holiday was so that she could go with him to Kilkenny on the Tuesday to see Annie. Besides, there was no benefit to being off, seeing as Kelly was planning on painting the entire day and he wouldn’t have let her lift a finger even if she had wanted to help him.
‘Actually, this case has just landed on my desk and it’s a bit time-sensitive so I might have to give tomorrow a miss.’ She cringed a little sensing his disappointment.
‘Oh,’ Kelly said.
‘And before you say anything, I’ll be fine.’ She warned. He had told her his theory plenty of times about how people were more violent on weekends, especially bank holiday weekends and full moons, and even though she wouldn’t admit it out loud, she agreed with him. She cautioned him with a look. How many more times could she tell him that she could look after herself? ‘I know what not to do, I’m a thirty-seven-year-old woman who can handle myself.’ She rubbed her stomach again, protectively this time. ‘I promise you, I’m not going to do anything to put this little one in harm’s way.’
‘Okay, it’s just that I told Annie that you’d be down.’ Kelly shrugged, thinking about how disappointed his sister would be and hoped that the guilt trip might be enough to get her to change her mind. He was also anxious that she’d overwork herself like she usually did, he winced knowing he was going to get in trouble for being overprotective again. ‘I know you don’t want me to but I know what you’re like and how some cases can stress you out until you get to the bottom of it, so do you promise me you’ll pace yourself this time?’ He was convinced the phrase “don’t stop until it’s done” was coined for her,
‘Kelly,’ she said warningly. What was he going to be like when she told him that it was her sister’s partner and the death of his ex-wife that she was investigating?
‘Okay,’ he conceded, ‘don’t mind me, I just miss working with you.’ And being there to protect you, he added in his head. ‘Anyway, you being home means we can order some food and you can relax on the sofa in your newly decorated room when I’ve finished.’ He waved towards the room. ‘I should be finished this room soon.’ He rubbed his hands together making sure the paint on them had dried before he placed his hands on her bump. It had become routine these days before he hugged her, almost as though he didn’t want the baby to think that he was ignoring her or him.
‘That would be nice,’ she heard herself say. Had she not been so concerned about the Liam Buckley case she would have loved nothing better than to play house with him. She’d wash the floors, lay out the new pale blue rug that she had picked up last week, hang the navy velvet curtains that she had bought in Next and replace all the cushion covers to make it a little cosier so they could nestle down for a relaxing bank holiday Monday together.
‘And we all benefit when Mammy is more zen
.’ He nodded towards the baby with a massive grin on his face.
‘Don’t even,’ she said. When she had first heard him refer to his own mother as ‘Mammy’ it had sounded endearing, almost childlike, but being from Dublin and twenty years younger than he was, she was more used to hearing the word ‘Mum’. That was what her child was going to call her.
‘What?’ He feigned ignorance and tried to hide his smile.
She raised her eyebrows threateningly. ‘The baby will call me “Mum” or “Mummy” or “Mother” but not “Mammy”, and that is final.’ She smirked. He had teased her with this conversation a few times before, along with the conversation about how parents referring to each other as Mummy or Daddy was one of her pet peeves. ‘What’s more,’ she added, ‘the only person calling me “Mum” will be my child, okay?’ she grinned.
‘Oh Mummy,’ he joked and she swiped for him, catching him on the shoulder. He just winked and reached across to peck her on the cheek. ‘Another hour should do it,’ he said looking around the room, ‘and then you’ll be able to sit and relax… maybe a fry or something for lunch?’
When the Time Comes (ARC) Page 3
