‘You’ve done the right thing,’ said Richard. ‘Fill in your bank details and the first payment will arrive next week.’
Lola exhaled slowly and looked at Shirley. Her friend shrugged, then gave her a sympathetic smile.
‘I promised you a sweetener,’ said Richard. ‘For yourself.’
He handed her a sealed padded envelope. Lola put it on the table. She didn’t want to look at a wad of cash right now. She’d feel like a total traitor if she did.
‘Does the Ice Dragon know about this?’ she asked.
‘Ice Dragon?’
‘Adele,’ said Lola.
The faintest flicker of a smile crossed Richard’s lips.
‘This isn’t something she needs to worry about,’ he said.
‘So you’ve basically brushed me out of your family’s life,’ said Lola.
‘You were never a part of it,’ Richard said. ‘You’re a silly, headstrong girl, but at least for the first time in your life you’ve made a sensible decision.’
But later that night, after she’d put the unopened envelope away, unable to face looking at her money, Lola still didn’t know if it had been sensible or the most stupid thing she’d ever done.
The Theft
Nine years later
Chapter 11
Chalcedony: a semi-transparent or translucent type of quartz
Adele Warren sat in front of the desktop computer that Richard had installed in the room he used as a home office. She switched it on and waited as it whirred into life, excited by the new technology. It was far removed from her early years as an accounts clerk, when she’d carefully written income and expenditure into huge ledgers every day. Now she used the computer to keep track of the household expenses. She’d always been in charge of the finances at home, Richard being quite happy to leave that to her while he concentrated on the business. Her younger son, Peter, had set up a simple program for her to use, and she enjoyed tapping at the keyboard once a week as she inputted the various bills that had been paid and made projections for future payments too.
She was engrossed in her work when the doorbell rang. Irritated, she went to the door, only to find it was someone trying to sell her a new phone package. That was the downside of the surge in technology-related things, she thought. New companies were springing up all over the place, claiming to offer better services than the older, trusted ones. It was happening in the retail sector too, with more glamorous jewellery shops opening in the city, trying to lure customers away. But none of them had the cachet of Warren’s, Adele thought. And so far their customers had remained loyal.
On her return to the home office, she glanced out of the window at the young door-to-door salesman she’d sent off with a curt ‘no thank you’. He might be working for a start-up company with an impressive-sounding name, she thought, but he was still drumming up business in an old-fashioned way. She smiled to herself as she turned back to the desk, and then cried out in annoyance as she knocked against the pile of folders on the desk, spilling their contents out onto the floor.
Her annoyance was as much with her husband as with herself. She’d been the one to knock them over, but it drove her crazy that he never put anything away properly, even though he had a perfectly good filing cabinet in the corner of the room.
Well, she thought, as she kneeled down and started to pick up Richard’s papers, she’d tidy this lot up once and for all, and then she’d tell him that if they were sharing the beautiful mahogany desk he’d bought when they first moved into the house, the least he could do was to keep it clear of mess.
Most of the papers were fact sheets on the stones he was interested in for the Adele collections. She paused at a grading report for a diamond described as ‘Fancy Intense Green’. She wondered if Richard was thinking of green diamonds for the next Adele range. She hoped not. Green stones should always be emeralds, and she preferred the purity of white diamonds.
‘Get on with it, woman,’ she murmured to herself as she glanced through a memo he’d sent Peter about payment schedules. ‘This isn’t your business.’
Ever since Peter had taken over as the accountant at Warren’s, Adele had tried to keep her nose out of the company finances, although she found it difficult. She’d enjoyed her limited involvement in the business when she was younger, but Richard had warned her that the boys needed to take more control of Warren’s now, and that they couldn’t interfere too much.
Which was easy for him to say, she thought as she smoothed out the bank statement in front of her. After all, he still went into the shop every day. And she was quite sure that he interfered as much as ever, no matter what he said to her.
She found her place in the accounting program again and then frowned as she looked at the statement. Nothing matched what she’d already inputted. She scrolled up and down the screen, then studied the statement more carefully. It was a few seconds before she realised that the reason nothing matched was because she was looking at Richard’s personal bank statement, and not the household expense account.
Adele had never looked at her husband’s bank statement before. She’d never felt the need to. He had always paid a substantial monthly sum into the household account and he never asked her how she spent it. He’d told her that she could take as much out of it as she liked for her personal use and to run the house with the rest. Which was what she’d done for their entire married life. She didn’t mind what he did with his own money because he had always looked after her and the children extremely well.
Nevertheless, with the statement in front of her, she couldn’t help looking at the numbers. She immediately identified the monthly payment to the household account, and the regular deduction for his car loan. But what she couldn’t figure out was the other, quite substantial direct debit that came out of the account at the end of every month. It was too high to be an insurance premium, or a subscription. It wasn’t a loan because the code was wrong for that. So what was it?
Adele told herself that it didn’t matter.
But somehow, deep inside, she knew that it did.
She said nothing to Richard when he came home from the shop that evening. And she said nothing the next day either, because they’d been invited to Philip and Donna’s for dinner and she didn’t want to sour the mood. Adele enjoyed visiting her son and daughter-in-law. Donna was the perfect wife for Philip, quiet and self-effacing and always putting his needs first. Their two children, Anthony and Astrid, were both well behaved if a little overindulged from Adele’s point of view. She was happy that Philip had settled down after his disastrous relationship with the farmer’s daughter. She had to admit that Lola Fitzpatrick had had the kind of looks that would turn any man’s head, but she was wild and unpredictable and would never have made a good wife for Philip. The whole business with the earrings had been unsettling too. Adele was sure there was something more to it than a simple mistake. She couldn’t see how anyone could waltz off with earrings worth thousands in their ears and not know it. No, she thought, he’d had a lucky escape from Lola Fitzpatrick and it was a good thing that she was completely out of his life.
It would be nice to have her other son settled too, she mused as she got ready for bed that night. With both her boys married, she’d feel her work as a mother was done.
Although maybe not. A mother always worried about her children, no matter how grown up they were. And a wife worried about her husband too, even if he’d never given reason to worry before.
Lola Fitzpatrick hardly ever worried about Bey. A statement she made when she met Shirley for coffee one afternoon and which caused her friend to chuckle.
‘What about the time she climbed that tree at Powerscourt and wouldn’t come down?’ Shirley reminded her. ‘And when she and Áine decided to get the Dart to Howth on their own and none of us knew where they were?’
Lola grinned. ‘Normal moments of anxiety,’ she clarified. ‘But generally, for a twelve year old, she’s great.’
‘I suppose it’s becau
se she’s been around adults so much,’ observed Shirley. ‘She can be disconcertingly mature about things sometimes.’
‘Far more mature than me, to be honest,’ Lola said. ‘Sometimes I feel she’s the adult in our relationship.’
‘She’s a great kid and a total credit to you.’ Shirley smiled. ‘And even though I had my doubts about . . . well, you know . . . I think you did the right thing.’
‘Hmm.’ Lola spooned some of the froth from her cappuccino. ‘She has asked about her dad from time to time, you know. A little more in the last year or so.’
‘And what have you told her?’
‘I’ve fudged things,’ replied Lola. ‘But it’s getting harder and harder.’
‘Richard’s still paying for her, isn’t he?’
Lola nodded. ‘I have to admit, the money was very important when I moved back to Dublin and was looking for a place to live. It helped me find somewhere suitable. And since then, I’ve been able to put it into a college fund for Bey. So I have to be grateful.’
‘Grateful?’ Shirley snorted. ‘For him stepping in and taking over his son’s responsibilities?’
‘He did what he thought was right. So did I.’
Shirley’s expression softened. ‘I know you did.’
‘Besides,’ said Lola, ‘it’s worked out all right. I’m happy in the house in Ringsend, I love my job at the property management company, and Bey’s a great kid. But . . .’ She hesitated. ‘But not telling Philip about her right at the start simply stored things up for the future. The problem is, I think that future is now. I said as much to Richard the last time I saw him.’
‘Meeting him every year wasn’t part of the original deal,’ said Shirley.
‘No,’ agreed Lola. ‘But when he contacted me and said he wanted to be updated on how his money was being spent, I couldn’t really say no.’ She pushed her coffee cup away. ‘He’s an interesting man, Shirley. Very driven. Very clever.’
‘Very bloody controlling, if you ask me,’ said Shirley.
‘That too,’ Lola agreed. ‘Still, he’s been good to me.’
‘You sound as though you like him. More than Philip.’
‘He has more depth than Philip,’ Lola said. ‘Philip could be an arrogant shit from time to time. He loved to lecture me. Richard listens.’
‘You sound smitten with him,’ said Shirley. ‘Like you might have got it on with him if the opportunity had presented itself.’
‘Don’t be daft!’ Lola shook her head. ‘At least . . .’
‘Lola!’
‘Oh, I don’t fancy him like that. Not at all,’ Lola assured her. ‘But he’s not as bad as I first thought. And he really does seem to care about Bey, which I didn’t expect.’
‘I wonder did he ever tell his wife?’
‘I never asked him,’ said Lola as she took out her purse to pay the bill. ‘But if he did, Adele has shown no interest in wanting to know about us. And to be perfectly honest, I think I prefer it that way.’
She collected Bey on her way home. Her daughter, now a tall and leggy redhead with sea-blue eyes and a creamy complexion with a dusting of freckles across her nose, had spent the afternoon with her best friend Áine. The two girls were working on costumes for the end-of-term school concert.
‘I’m not really into fairies and stuff,’ said Bey as she showed her mother the gossamer wings she’d fashioned to go with the leotards and tutus that the girls would be wearing. ‘But they look pretty, don’t they?’
‘They’re lovely,’ agreed Lola, who was truly impressed by her daughter’s ability to make pretty things. ‘Mrs Shaw will be delighted. Well done, both of you.’
‘Oh, Bey did most of it.’ Áine shrugged. ‘I just cut out the material and helped stick on the sequins.’
‘It’s excellent work,’ Lola assured her.
‘And they’ve tidied up.’ Beth Bellamy, Áine’s mother, walked into the room. ‘Which is the most excellent thing of all. Here you are, Bey, some of the cookies I made earlier.’
‘Thank you, Mrs Bellamy,’ said Bey.
‘Next time, you can come to our house, Áine,’ said Lola. ‘Meantime, we’d better scoot. See you soon, Beth.’
She hustled her daughter out of the house and into the car.
‘Áine’s mum and dad have split up,’ said Bey as Lola pulled away from the pavement.
‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ said Lola.
‘Áine says it’s better that way. They fought all the time. She says it’s easier now he’s moved out.’
‘I’m sure it’s not nice, all the same.’
‘Her dad has custody rights,’ said Bey. ‘Áine and her brother will spend every second weekend with him. Although not at the same time, because he only has a one-bedroom flat and a sofa bed.’
‘Has Áine stayed there already?’ asked Lola.
‘Yes,’ replied Bey. ‘But she’s not sure she likes it very much.’
‘She’ll get used to it,’ Lola told her. ‘It’s sad when adults mess up, but it happens.’
‘Did my dad ever want custody rights?’ asked Bey as they arrived outside their house, a two-up, two-down redbrick.
‘That wasn’t an option at the time,’ Lola told her.
‘Why?’
It was strange, Lola thought, how sometimes things seemed destined to happen. Today was the first time in months she’d spoken to Shirley about Richard and Philip. And today was the first time in a while that Bey had also decided to talk about her father.
She didn’t reply until they were inside the house and were both sitting at the scrubbed-pine kitchen table, which had been a moving-in gift from her mum and dad.
‘There were lots of reasons why your dad wasn’t involved with you when you were born,’ she said. ‘Maybe some of those reasons have changed and maybe they haven’t.’
‘Was it that he was too immature?’ asked Bey.
Lola couldn’t help smiling. Her daughter was so serious, so earnest. And so deserved to know about her dad.
‘We were both immature,’ she said. ‘But of course we’re older and more sensible now. So if you want me to contact him, I’ll do my best.’
‘Can you do that?’ Bey looked at her in surprise. ‘I thought he was sort of off the radar.’
Lola had never said that to her. But she knew that her own behaviour over the years might have given Bey that idea.
‘If that’s what you want, I’ll try,’ she said.
She’d expected Bey to say yes straight away and was surprised when her daughter frowned.
‘I need to think about it,’ Bey said eventually. ‘I’ll let you know.’
‘Whenever you’re ready, just say,’ Lola said.
‘I will,’ said Bey, and went to her room.
Adele realised that she was becoming obsessed about the payments out of Richard’s bank account. She kept coming up with reasons why he might need to spend that money on a monthly basis, and none of them were good. But to ask him about them would mean she’d have to admit to having looked at his statement, and that was something she was ashamed of doing, even if it had been accidental. Their relationship had always been built on trust. If she told him what she’d done, he might never trust her again. But right now, she didn’t know if she could trust him either.
It was a week after she’d first seen it that she raised the subject with him. And when she saw the expression in his eyes, she wished she’d never asked.
‘Have you a mistress?’ she demanded when he didn’t speak. ‘A child?’
‘Of course not.’ Being able to say no to her question made it easier for him. ‘I would never cheat on you, Adele. You know that.’
‘I don’t know that at all,’ she said. ‘I want to believe it. I want to think you’re not like my father. But I don’t know it, Richard, do I?’
‘You’ve always believed in me,’ he said. ‘Believed that I’ll do the right thing for both of us. For our boys. For the business.’
‘The business!’
she exclaimed. ‘Is it . . . are you paying hush money to someone?’
‘Hush money?’ He looked at her in astonishment. ‘For what? No. Adele, sweetheart, it’s nothing like that. Nothing at all. I’ve simply tried to . . .’
‘What?’ she asked.
Richard let out a slow breath. And then he told her about meeting Lola in St Stephen’s Green, and of the existence of Bey.
‘You’re saying she’s Philip’s child?’ asked Adele when he’d finished. ‘And you expect me to believe that?’
‘Because it’s the truth.’
‘Yet you’ve kept it from me.’
‘I thought it was for the best.’
‘And he doesn’t know either?’
‘No.’
‘Have you seen her?’
‘Who? Bey? Not since that first time.’
‘Lola,’ said Adele. ‘You’ve been paying her money for nine years, Richard. Nine years! Have you asked her for anything in return during that time? Has she given you anything?’
‘I . . . She . . .’ Richard wanted to give her the answer she needed to hear. But he wasn’t sure what that might be. ‘I do a bit of an audit with her every year,’ he said eventually. ‘She tells me about the child and I reassure myself that she’s looking after her properly.’
‘I’m not convinced you need to do that.’ Adele’s voice was as hard as her eyes. ‘I can’t understand why you’re involved at all.’
‘She wanted to go to Philip when Donna was expecting the twins,’ Richard reminded her. ‘I couldn’t let that happen, Adele. I couldn’t. I had to step in and stop it.’
‘I suppose you did,’ Adele conceded. ‘That damned girl! I knew she was trouble from the moment I saw her. All that fuss she kicked up about those snails.’
‘To be fair, darling, it was a bit of a challenge.’
‘I liked to challenge his girlfriends,’ Adele said. ‘Particularly the ones who needed challenging.’
‘You didn’t give Donna snails.’
‘My challenge to Donna was quite different,’ said Adele in a tone that told him not to ask.
What Happened That Night: The page-turning holiday read by the No. 1 bestselling author Page 10
