He's Got to Go

by Sheila O'Flanagan

  “I can’t drink,” said Cate baldly. “I’m pregnant.”

  “Oh, shit.” Bree buried her head in her hands. “I’m sorry. That was so stupid!”

  “You go,” said Cate. “I’d like to be alone for a while.”

  “Sure?”

  “Sure.”

  “OK.” Bree picked up a bag and slung it over her back. She couldn’t quite believe that she was going for a drink when she really didn’t want to simply so that her sister could have some time alone in her flat. “Make yourself at home. The big bathroom is on the next floor if you want a soak but I wouldn’t honestly recommend it, six people share that bath and four of them are blokes. I’m never quite convinced…” She shrugged. “You could sit in the back garden for a while. It’s a bit on the overgrown side but it’s restful.”

  “I know,” said Cate. “I’ve been here almost every day for the past week!”

  “Sorry. I’m losing it. I know you have.” Bree looked at her anxiously. “You’ll be all right here on your own, won’t you?”

  “Of course I’ll be all right,” said Cate impatiently. “I’m not suicidal or anything, Bree.”

  “Sure. Well, yes, fine.” Bree smiled doubtfully. “Have a sleep, maybe.”

  “Maybe,” said Cate.

  “I’ll be back later.”

  “Whatever.”

  “See you.”

  “Goodbye, Bree,” said Cate.

  The garden was a complete mess. Cate pushed her way through knotgrass and ground elder to the weather-beaten bench near the back wall. She sat down gingerly, afraid of splinters, then drew her legs up onto the bench and rested her chin on her knees. She closed her eyes and remembered the row.

  The soft breeze rippled through the cherry blossom and eucalyptus trees and she shivered in the evening air. She felt stunned by the way her life had suddenly been turned upside down. She hadn’t even got to grips with actually being pregnant. She couldn’t quite believe that she was now sharing a rundown flat with her younger sister instead of a designer apartment with her successful boyfriend. And she hated the fact that Finn was probably delighted that she’d left, free from her at last.

  Is this it? she wondered as she opened her eyes again and looked around her. Is this what I’m left with after three years? Crying in the garden of a shabby house in the middle of Donnybrook and not knowing where I go from here?

  24

  Capricorn December 22nd–January 20th

  Treasures the past, creates opportunities for the future.

  Bree woke up when she heard the sound of the shower the following morning. She peered at the alarm clock beside the bed and shuddered to think that it was only six o’clock. Did Cate get up this early every morning, she wondered. Or was this early morning stuff just because they’d spent the most restless night ever? Bree had forgotten that Cate made little sighing noises in her sleep which drove her crazy. Cate had forgotten that Bree snored if she lay on her back. Every time one of them rolled over in the bed, the other woke up. It wasn’t altogether surprising, Bree conceded, that Cate was awake but she considered it to be almost criminal that she was up.

  She heard Cate get out of the shower and walk back into the room.

  “Good morning,” said Bree.

  “Did I wake you?”

  “No, I’m always awake in the middle of the night.”

  “Sorry,” said Cate. “I don’t want to be late for work.”

  “Late!” squeaked Bree. “What time do you start, for heaven’s sake?”

  “Whenever we like, more or less,” Cate told her as she rummaged in her case for her hairdryer. “But I’m nearly always in by eight at the latest.”

  Bree groaned. “I do some early morning shifts at the garage but I don’t get up hours beforehand.”

  Cate shrugged and plugged in the dryer. “I like being in early. I get more done that way.”

  Bree pushed the duvet out of her way and got up. There was no point in lying in bed while Cate was making such a racket with the hairdryer and she supposed that it would be a good idea if she got up and ready for her day’s work as an undercover agent for Nessa too. But, she thought, Nessa and Adam and Jill would still be asleep by the time she was ready for her spying mission.

  When Bree emerged from the shower, Cate had finished drying her hair and was putting on her makeup. Bree watched in fascination as her sister applied moisturizer, eye cream, foundation, eye shadow, concealer, blusher, mascara, lip cream, lipstick and lipstick fixer.

  “No wonder you have to get up so early,” she told Cate. “Don’t tell me you go through all that every morning.”

  “I have to look good,” said Cate. “It’s part of my job.”

  “I thought you were the sales director,” said Bree. “Surely the sales director doesn’t have to slather her face in all that muck every day.”

  “It’s not muck.” Cate put her jars and tubes back in her vanity case. “It’s necessary.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I deal with lots of important people,” said Cate. “I feel better when I look my best.”

  “You know, you look perfectly presentable without all that stuff,” Bree told her. “You don’t need to wear it.”

  “I do,” said Cate. “Especially today. I looked a total wreck when I got up.”

  “Maybe today,” conceded Bree. “But not always, Cate. You’re the good-looking sister.”

  “According to Nessa I’m the selfish, inconsiderate sister,” said Cate bitterly. “And now I’m also the unmarried, pregnant, without-a-boyfriend, sister.”

  “You’re not selfish and inconsiderate,” said Bree. “You are good-looking. You’ll find someone else, Cate.”

  “Yeah, right.” Cate tried to smile but it came out as a grimace. “Me and the baby that I thought I didn’t want.”

  “We’ll talk about it again later,” said Bree. “Have a good day at work.”

  “Thanks.” Cate reached out and hugged her. “Thanks for everything.”

  After Cate had gone, Bree phoned Nessa.

  “Why are you calling so early?” asked Nessa. “Adam hasn’t gone to work yet.”

  “I thought you might like me to follow him to work,” said Bree.

  “He’s hardly likely to—” Nessa broke off as Jill, wearing her school uniform for the first day back since the holidays, strolled into the kitchen. “This evening’s more likely,” she said.

  “I thought you said he didn’t go out on Monday evenings,” Bree protested. “Anyway, I thought I should do the evenings for the rest of this week despite what we said before. There’s no point in doing two days, particularly if he doesn’t go out on one of them!”

  “I said just today and tomorrow,” Nessa said shortly.

  “But that’s silly.”

  “Not half as silly as this whole damn idea,” hissed Nessa. “I wish I hadn’t said yes to it now.”

  “All right, all right.” Bree sighed. “Where exactly does he work?”

  “Merrion Square,” said Nessa softly. “Time Concepts. I can’t remember the number but the front door is green.”

  “I’ll find it,” said Bree.

  “You’re sure you’re OK?” asked Nessa anxiously. “Only I don’t want you falling off your bike or anything.”

  “I’m fine,” said Bree. “I went to see Michael yesterday.”

  “How is he?”

  “A little under the weather,” Bree told her. “But his dad gave me some chocolate chip cookies.”

  “I don’t like his father,” said Nessa. “Arrogant sod. Just because he’s a flipping lawyer.”

  Bree laughed. “He’s quite nice really.”

  “Don’t trust him,” warned Nessa. “You never know with those legal types.”

  “For heaven’s sake, don’t be so paranoid!”

  “You hear about it all the time,” said Nessa. “People think that something’s over and done with and the next thing they know there’s a summons on their doormat.”

&
nbsp; “You’ve been watching too much TV,” said Bree.

  “All I’m saying is that he could still try and make out that there was something wrong with the car,” said Nessa.

  “He’s not like that,” Bree said. “He’s honorable, Nessa. Really he is.”

  “We’ll see.”

  “I’d better go.” Bree really wanted to tell Nessa about Cate but she thought Cate would prefer to talk to Nessa herself. Eventually. It was hard, though, to keep the news to herself. She was beginning to feel very burdened by her sisters’ traumas.

  “OK,” said Nessa. “I don’t know whether I should be saying good luck or not.”

  “Neither do I,” said Bree.

  “Call me later,” said Nessa as Adam walked into the kitchen.

  “Who’s ringing so early?” he asked.

  “Bree,” said Nessa.

  “What’s wrong with her now?”

  “Nothing.”

  “I thought she was going back to work this week.”

  “Wednesday,” said Nessa.

  “Good,” said Adam. “At least it’ll mean you have some time to yourself again.”

  “I’m back to work today,” she said. “It doesn’t really.”

  “You miss it during the summer, don’t you?”

  “Sometimes,” said Nessa.

  Adam looked at his watch. “I’d better be off myself.” He pecked her on the cheek and, quite suddenly, she put her arms around him and pulled him close to her.

  “Nessa!” He looked at her in amusement.

  “I love you,” she said.

  “I know,” said Adam, then kissed her on the lips.

  Bree parked her bike opposite Adam’s offices close to a van belonging to some workers who were just about to dig a hole in the road. If he looked out of the window he’d think she was one of the hundreds of motorcycle couriers that covered the city. He’d never guess that the person in the black leather jacket and matching black trousers was his sister-in-law.

  She took out her mobile phone and called his number. According to his personal assistant he was at a meeting. In-house, she said, in reply to Bree’s question. He wouldn’t be free until lunchtime.

  Bree chained her bike and walked into the park opposite the Georgian office building. Although the temperature had dropped noticeably today, the sky was still blue and it was good to be outdoors. She looked at her watch. It was just after eleven. She’d return to her surveillance at twelve. It was unlikely that Adam would leave the building before then. It was unlikely, she admitted to herself, that he’d leave the building at all. This whole thing was really rather stupid. It sounded good in theory, like some of the mad games they’d played as children, but in practice it was silly. Adam probably wasn’t having an affair at all. Chances were the whole thing was a once-off stupid mistake. He could have kissed another woman, Bree conceded, but it wasn’t in his best interests to be having a full-blown affair and Adam was always someone who looked after his best interests. Besides, she thought, he does love Nessa. I’m sure he does. And he’s mad about Jill.

  She sat down on one of the park benches and took out the cryptic crossword book that Cate had given her the previous week to help her to pass the time. Cate loved cryptic crosswords and had implied that Bree would probably find these ones a bit on the easy side, but she was still struggling to complete one. Nevertheless she was getting the hang of it. It would be a real triumph, she decided, if she managed to finish this one while she was waiting for Adam.

  It was slow work though. She’d just elatedly filled in the answer to “Xse” (and how apt it was, she decided) when she glanced at her watch and realized that it was after twelve. She panicked momentarily at the thought that she might have already missed Adam and hurried toward her bike. In reality, she thought, he’s probably still at his meeting. She’d watched hundreds of detective movies in the past and she knew that stakeouts were usually long, boring and fruitless. Unless the leading man was involved, in which case they were tense (or, as the crossword would say, Xse!) affairs that ended in violence and special effects. She rather hoped that this one wouldn’t end in violence and special effects. She put on her helmet just as the green door of the office building opened and Adam walked out. She started up her bike while he stood at the top of the steps and then she thought that she’d feel particularly silly if he was just nipping around the corner to pick up a sandwich.

  But he walked slowly down the steps, stood at the side of the pavement and looked up and down the road. Bree watched him. He didn’t seem to be in a hurry, didn’t seem to have anything specific on his mind. She revved the bike. A bright yellow Audi stopped in front of him. He opened the passenger door and got in. Shit, thought Bree, maybe this is it! Maybe this is his secret lover. And then she shook her head. He’d hardly meet her here, in full view of everyone. He was probably being picked up for a meeting or something. But she followed them anyway, the yellow car easy to spot as it headed out of the city and toward Ballsbridge. They drove along the Rock Road toward Booterstown. Then the car turned into the car park of Gleeson’s pub. Bree followed. She wasn’t sure how she was going to keep Adam under surveillance in a pub.

  He got out of the car, his red-gold hair glinting in the early afternoon sun. The driver got out too and Bree winced. It was a woman. The sort, she wondered, that Adam might be having an affair with? She watched as the woman said something to Adam which made him laugh. Then he put his arm lightly across her shoulder and ushered her into the pub.

  Still nothing conclusive. The gesture had been friendly. Proprietorial, perhaps, but not passionate. Bree sat on her bike and chewed at her bottom lip. She didn’t know what to do now. She knew that the pub was big and sprawling but she couldn’t imagine how she could walk through it without Adam seeing her. And what would be the best time to walk through and catch him engaged in a bit of extra-martial kissing anyway? Nessa should’ve got a detective agency, she thought gloomily. A detective would be able to go in with a hidden camera and do some surreptitious photography. All she could do was sit in the car park and get bored. She yawned, took off her helmet and slid her earphones into her ears. Then she settled back and waited. Her stomach rumbled. She thought of Declan Morrissey’s chocolate chip cookies and wished she’d had the presence of mind to bring them with her.

  She was starving by the time Adam and the unknown woman emerged. He was laughing (again, thought Bree; is the woman some sort of comedienne?) as he followed his companion down the steps. She wasn’t unlike Nessa, Bree thought. Taller, perhaps. About the same age. But definitely took much more care about her appearance. This woman looked as Nessa might if she spent as much time and money on herself as Cate did.

  It didn’t have to mean anything. A man could walk out of a pub with an attractive woman and it didn’t mean he was having an affair with her! It could still be—and at that point Bree groaned because the woman turned to Adam and kissed him. Not an air kiss. Not a businesslike kiss on the cheek. She kissed him the way Bree had wanted to kiss Michael Morrissey. She kissed him the way someone who’s in the throes of lust and passion kisses their lover. She kissed him like she’d kissed him before.

  Shit, thought Bree. Shit, shit, shit.

  She followed them back to Adam’s office. She watched him get out of the car and the Audi drive away. Then, suddenly remembering her role, she followed it up Merrion Street, into Ely Place and around St. Stephen’s Green. The car then turned up Camden Street and finally into a car park outside a small office block off the main street. The driver reversed into a marked space and gently nudged an awkward pillar at the back of the space. Bree sighed. If Adam was getting it together with this woman it wasn’t because she was a better driver than Nessa. She watched the woman get out of the car, lock it and walk into the office block.

  Bree got out and looked at the brass plate on the wall. It listed four companies. On the second floor was A. Boyd & Associates. She chewed her lip again. It looked as though she’d found bloody xxx A. She somehow wi
shed she hadn’t.

  She rode slowly back toward Merrion Square. She’d have to tell Nessa. She hadn’t expected to have to tell Nessa anything yet. She realized, as she stopped outside a newsagents and bought herself a club baguette and a can of Coke, that she hadn’t expected to have to tell Nessa anything at all.

  She’d convinced herself that Adam had committed a minor indiscretion, made a stupid mistake; overseen by someone else as stupid mistakes so often are. And she’d offered to follow him because she wanted to help Nessa but not because she thought she’d be the one to break it to her sister that Portia had been telling the truth. Bree sighed deeply. Despite the fact that she hadn’t been kissed herself recently she recognized a passionate clinch when she saw one.

  Why? she wondered furiously. Why was he playing away like this? What was the point? She finished her roll, drained the Coke and put the refuse into a bin. There was no reason to hang around here for the rest of the afternoon, she decided. Adam wasn’t going anywhere and, if he was, she really didn’t want to know where it was anyway. She’d seen enough.

  She turned the bike around and headed toward Donnybrook. She rode past the flat and out to Michael’s house. She needed to see him. She needed to know that there were nice blokes out there. Blokes who didn’t pretend.

  Marta opened the door. Bree’s heart sank as she smiled at Michael’s younger sister but the girl seemed in much better humor than the day before and she led Bree into the living room. Michael was in an armchair, watching the TV.

  “Hi.” Bree wanted to hug him and to kiss him but she was afraid of hurting him.

  “Hello,” said Michael. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

  “I’m not back in work till Wednesday,” she told him. “And I wanted to see how you were.”

  “Not much different.” He hit the mute button and the clatter of gunfire from the movie he’d been watching was silenced.

  “Marta looking after you?” she asked.

  “She was at college this morning,” said Michael. “I was on my own.”