They sat in the parked car, waiting and watching. There was no sign of life in the house.
‘Perhaps I should have gone to where she worked.’ According to the detective’s report, O’Toole Cleaners’ office was in Dame Street, in the centre of the city. ‘But if it is her’ – everything they said was prefaced with that – ‘perhaps it’s better to talk to her at home, don’t you think? What do I say, though? What if her daughter answers when I knock? Or her husband? Do I say who I am? Would she have told them about me? About any of us?’
Gabriel smiled at her. ‘Do you want me to try and answer all twenty of those questions or can I pick just one or two?’
‘Sorry.’ She was growing more anxious by the minute. It had been much easier to think about this when it was hypothetical, when she wasn’t sitting just metres from Sadie’s house.
Gabriel was reading the report again. ‘You’re quite like her daughter, you know. She looks like you, I mean. Not identical, but there are similarities.’
Maggie had noticed that too. They had similar colouring: dark hair and pale skin. She wasn’t going to point this out to Gabriel, but Sadie’s daughter had slightly sticky-out ears too. She wore a lot more earrings than Maggie ever had, though. In the photo it looked like she had about ten silver hoops in each ear.
They sat for five minutes, not speaking. Maggie had a lot to think about. She couldn’t get Tessa’s words out of her head. She kept picturing Sadie reading them. She tried to imagine how it would feel to read something like that about yourself. It would be devastating. Not just hurtful, but crushing. Something else occurred to her too. What if Leo decided he wanted to read the diaries now as well? She knew that once she told him that Bill definitely wasn’t Sadie’s father, he would want to. Now that his great fear had been dismissed, he would surely be curious to read everything Tessa had written; her thoughts on their life together. She pictured how hurt he would be. Not only that. He would be reminded of all he’d said about Sadie being the runt of the family. He would realise that Sadie had also read that; that he had somehow contributed to her deciding to leave the family. Round and round her thoughts went. Maggie wished again that Leo had destroyed the diaries all those years ago. None of this would have happened if he had.
She was roused from her thoughts by a sudden touch on her arm. ‘Maggie, is that her?’
They watched a woman coming down the road. She had a purposeful step. She looked to be in her mid-forties. Dark-brown hair. She was dressed in dark-blue trousers and a light-coloured shirt, with a colourful scarf around her neck.
They were too far away to tell for sure, but Maggie recognised something familiar about the woman. She realised what it was. She walked like her aunts. That same brisk, easy stride they all had. She walked like that too.
She froze. ‘I can’t talk to her.’
‘Maggie, of course you can. She’s right there.’
‘But what do I say? “Are you Sadie? Hello, I’m Maggie, the niece you haven’t seen for twenty years”? It doesn’t seem fair. Not just on the street like that.’
The woman was getting closer.
‘Do you want me to do it?’ Gabriel asked. ‘Break the ice, if you like? I can ask her outright.’
‘Would you?’
‘Of course I would. But is it the right thing?’
‘Please, Gabriel. Quickly. Before she goes inside.’
Maggie could feel her heart thumping as Gabriel got out of the car and crossed the road. She heard his voice calling out, his American accent distinct. ‘Excuse me.’
The woman turned, a polite smile, clearly thinking she was about to help a lost tourist. Maggie sat still, watching as Gabriel said something. She saw the woman’s hand go up to her neck. She wasn’t shaking her head or nodding. She was just listening, staring at Gabriel. The two of them turned and looked at the car Maggie was sitting in. She didn’t know what to do, whether to wave or acknowledge them. She didn’t do anything. Should she go over there? Had he asked her?
The woman ran her hands through her hair. Her hand went back to the scarf around her neck. She looked at her watch. Gesture after gesture, but still no nod. Gabriel touched her arm, then turned away. She opened the gate to her house and went inside, not looking back. He came back towards Maggie, his face not giving anything away. He opened the door, got in and shut the door.
‘It’s her, Maggie. It’s Sadie.’
Her heart started thumping. ‘What did you say to her?’
‘I asked her outright. I said I was a friend of the Faraday family from Tasmania. I didn’t want to shock her, but I needed to know, was she Sadie Faraday?’
‘And she said she was? Just like that?’
‘Not at first. She said no, I must have confused her with someone else, that her name was Sally O’Toole. And I said yes, I knew that, but that her family thought she may once have been called Sadie Faraday and that her niece was here and she would very much like to talk to her. And she said, “Maggie? Maggie’s here?” I hadn’t said your name before then.’
‘Will she talk to me? Does she want to? Now?’
He nodded. ‘She said she just needs some time on her own first.’
‘Is her daughter there? Her husband?’
‘She didn’t say. She was pretty shocked, Maggie.’
‘What does she sound like?’
‘Australian but with a bit of an Irish accent. She sounds like Juliet actually. That same tone to her voice.’
‘Does she look just like the others?’
His voice was gentle. ‘Maggie, you’ll see for yourself in a few minutes.’
Maggie realised her hands were shaking. She pulled down the mirror, checked her appearance and smoothed down her hair. ‘Do I look all right?’
‘You look great. You always look great.’
‘Wish me luck.’
‘You don’t need luck, Maggie. She’s your aunt, remember.’
She opened the car door and started walking towards the house. She was at the gate when the front door opened. The woman was standing there, a mobile phone in her hand. She looked agitated.
Maggie stopped. ‘Sadie?’
‘Maggie, I’m so sorry. I can’t talk to you now.’
As they spoke, a green van came around the corner. It had ‘O’Toole Cleaners’ written in white letters on the side.
‘That’s my husband. He’s just phoned. He’s back earlier than expected. He doesn’t know about you. Maggie, please, don’t say anything. Just go, now, as quickly as you can.’
‘But, Sadie —’
‘Please don’t call me that. It’s Sally now.’
‘I need to talk to you. Leo has —’
‘Leo’s dead?’
Maggie shook her head. ‘No, that’s not it. It’s just —’
The van was pulling into a gap five houses down.
‘Sadie – Sally, please. I need to talk to you.’
Sadie hesitated, glancing anxiously down the road at the van. ‘Where are you staying?’
Maggie named the guesthouse on the main road, hoping she remembered it right.
Sadie nodded. ‘I’ll call you there, in the morning. First thing in the morning. I promise. But I need you to go now.’
The van door opened and a man got out. As Maggie walked as quickly as she could back to their car, she glanced across. Sadie had left her front door open as she ran up to the van. The man put down his suitcases and hugged her. Maggie heard snatches of their conversation. ‘Welcome home!’ As they walked arm in arm back towards their house, Maggie saw the man glance across in her direction, ask a question and nod at Sadie’s answer. What had she said? Maggie wondered. That she was a lost tourist? A door-to-door saleswoman? Anything but her long-lost niece.
They went inside just as Maggie reached the car, opened the door and got in.
‘Maggie? Are you okay?’
She couldn’t stop herself. She burst into tears.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Sadie finished tidying up after
dinner. It was the hardest night she’d ever spent in Larry’s company. On the surface, she hoped she’d been her usual self. The conversation flowed as easily as it always had between them. She asked questions about the Galway merger, even though they’d spoken several times a day and there wasn’t much she didn’t know. She talked about her work, about a possible new client. They discussed a political scandal in the news. They talked about Maudie.
They talked and they laughed and for a few minutes Sadie managed to forget that her old life had just come crashing into her new life.
She felt Larry come into the kitchen behind her, slip his arms around her waist and press a kiss on her hair. ‘I missed you, Sally.’
She turned around in the circle of his arms and kissed him back. ‘I missed you too.’
‘I don’t ever want to be away from you for that long again.’
‘I didn’t like it either.’
He kissed her again. She gave herself up to it, to the pleasure, the comfort and safety of his familiar touch. This was what was real in her life now. Larry, Maudie, this house, this country. Not her old life, not Tasmania, not her old family. Not even Maggie. She had all she needed, more than she ever thought she would have. She couldn’t bear to lose it. She couldn’t risk doing anything that might change things.
As Larry whispered in her ear, as he gently started to undo the buttons on her shirt, ignoring her protests that the neighbours could be watching through the window, one part of her was thinking of something else. As she laughed at him pulling the blind down, she came to a decision.
She wouldn’t ring Maggie in the morning. There was no point.
It was past midnight. Three hundred metres up the road from Sadie’s house, Maggie was wide awake. She and Gabriel had spent a subdued evening in each other’s company.
He had been very understanding about her tears in the car. She’d been embarrassed, wiping her eyes, as he drove away from Sadie’s house.
They checked into the guesthouse that Maggie had noticed earlier. The first thing she did was confirm there was a phone in the room.
She wasn’t sure when Gabriel suggested they go and find somewhere to eat.
‘What if she rings?’
‘She said she’ll ring tomorrow.’
‘I’ll take a message if anyone does ring,’ the receptionist said, overhearing every word.
They walked down the main road, closer to the city centre. The receptionist had recommended an Indian restaurant four streets away. Over dinner, Maggie tried to talk about general things, but she kept returning to the subject of Sadie. Perhaps she should have done things differently.
Gabriel stayed patient with her. ‘Maggie, you can’t change it. You’ve made the first move and now you can’t do anything until the morning, until she rings.’
‘What if she doesn’t?’
‘Wait and see.’
As they came out of the restaurant, Maggie tried to convince herself Gabriel was right. There was no point going over and over what had happened or what might happen. There was nothing more she could do. It was up to Sadie now.
‘You’re doing that nose-rubbing again,’ Gabriel said. ‘Should I be scared? Is it a sign that the weather is about to change?’
‘No, it’s a sign that you have probably heard more than enough about the Faraday family for one day. It’s also a sign that it’s time someone took you to an Irish pub to hear some Irish music.’
‘We’re in Ireland? I keep forgetting that. New York one day, Donegal the next, Dublin the day after. I like knowing you, Maggie Faraday. You’re one of the jet set.’
They crossed the busy street, dodging between double-decker buses and taxis heading in the direction of the city centre. The area was a mixture of rundown and prosperous: modern shops and cafés next to abandoned buildings; dilapidated terraced houses beside smart new apartments. Maggie counted five pubs in less than a hundred metres, painted in bright colours and decorated with window boxes, with small groups of smokers in every doorway. Maggie and Gabriel walked into one, lured by a large sign announcing ‘Music Tonight’ on a blackboard on the footpath.
‘You should have brought your guitar,’ Maggie said as they walked inside.
‘I stole two spoons from the restaurant. I’ll play those if the mood takes me.’ He smiled at her expression. ‘Maggie, I’m joking. I took forks, not spoons.’
The band was just starting as they walked in. Not Irish ballads. It was a techno duo, with synthesisers and a drum machine. Maggie and Gabriel turned around and walked out again. The next pub had three large video screens, each showing a different football match, all at high volume. The pub after that smelt of industrial disinfectant. The next was playing loud pop music via a badly tuned radio.
They finally settled on a pub at the end of the street: music-free, disinfectant-free and sports screen-free. It was like a country pub in the centre of the city, with red-painted exterior walls, the interior like someone’s lounge room with an unusual selection of photos arranged higgledy-piggledy on the walls: hurling teams, a poster of the Titanic’s maiden voyage and a black-and-white photograph of a young boy standing in the middle of an expanse of cobblestones. It was quiet: just a group of young women laughing and talking in one corner, the other tables and stools empty. The barman greeted them warmly and took their orders for two pints of Guinness. ‘Take a seat. I’ll bring them over.’ He delivered them with a smile several minutes later.
Gabriel picked up the glass. ‘Sláinte.’
Maggie repeated the Irish toast. ‘Sláinte.’
They both took a sip.
‘Here we are,’ he said.
‘Here we are,’ she said in return.
‘How are you, Maggie?’
She thought about it. ‘Stunned. Shocked. Sad.’
‘All those “s” words. Dolly would be proud of you.’
‘I’m also scared.’
‘Scared?’
‘I’m scared of her not ringing me tomorrow. What do I do then?’
He smiled at her. ‘Maggie Faraday, have you always been like this? Wanting to control things, wanting to know everything that’s going to happen? You can’t do that all the time. You need to let things unfold for themselves sometimes.’
‘You’re right. I know that. It was one of the reasons I was glad to be in New York. To be outside my normal life; let things happen of their own accord. To take a step back from myself.’
‘It was a good thing to do. And don’t you see how your brave step was rewarded? The wonderful thing that happened next?’ he prompted. ‘Maggie, please. You met me.’ Another smile. ‘See? Good things come to those who go to New York on a whim.’
She felt herself relax a little. ‘Thank you, Gabriel.’
‘Thank you? For what? And yes, I am fishing for compliments.’
‘Ten things.’ She counted them off on her fingers. ‘For coming to Donegal. For being so nice to Leo. For filming my aunts and mother. For standing up to Miranda. For listening to all of this. For driving to Dublin today. For talking to Sadie in the street when I couldn’t. For being so understanding.’
He was counting too. ‘That’s only eight. Come on. You can think of two more.’
Number nine. For being so lovely that I want to kiss you. Number ten. The same thing again. She wanted to kiss him more than once.
‘I’ll save those two up for another time,’ she said.
‘I’ll look forward to hearing them,’ he replied.
His next words surprised her.
‘I’ve had an idea how to end things between us.’
She stared at him.
‘Our engagement. Don’t you remember? When we were in New York, you were worried about your family, what they’d think. I promised you I’d come up with a way of ending it.’
‘You did?’ That seemed like a hundred years ago.
‘You’ve got so much else to think about at the moment, I didn’t want you to worry about that as well. I’ve asked a friend of mine at hom
e to call the house in Donegal in the next couple of days, to come up with an excuse for me to go back urgently. We’ll have finished the filming by then. And then once I’m gone you can tell your family you’ve been having doubts and you’re thinking of calling it off. It’ll be much easier to say all that if I’m not there.’
She hoped her reaction wasn’t obvious on her face. She didn’t want to end it. She liked pretending to be engaged to him. She wished they weren’t pretending. It was a sudden reminder, again, that this was just a job to him.
She managed a smile. ‘That sounds great, thanks very much. That’ll make it much easier.’
They walked back to the guesthouse after their drink. They said goodnight to each other at reception. Another time, it might have been different. In Dublin for just one night, they might have gone on to another pub, kept talking, found some live music, even gone to a club. They might have come back to the guesthouse, whispering and hushing each other, going to his room or hers to keep talking. To keep laughing. Perhaps to do even more.
But tonight wasn’t that sort of night. They were almost businesslike in their goodnights. He wished her luck with the call in the morning. She promised to let him know as soon as she heard anything.
She’d been in bed for more than an hour and not come anywhere close to sleep. She lay listening to the traffic passing outside, watching the moonlight flickering on the wallpaper, listening to the faint sound of conversations of people walking home from pubs and parties.
Part of her wanted to go to Gabriel’s room. To knock on his door and just tell him what she was feeling. That she was finding it too hard to pretend to be his girlfriend – his fiancée – when her real feelings were so strong. She’d thought it every day since they had started this charade, the feeling growing by the day. Sitting in the pub with him tonight, listening to him talk, watching his face, noticing tiny details – the colour of his eyes, the creases in his cheeks when he smiled, the way he used his hands to express himself. She wanted to touch his hands, kiss his face, be close to him…
She turned over in bed. It was impossible. She wasn’t in a normal situation. Her family was crowding in on her, in her mind and in reality.
Those Faraday Girls Page 48
