by Melissa Hill
Joanne laughed. “No, Madeleine, this is absolutely on the level. One of our publicity managers has been following your blog since she was on maternity leave last year, and she was talking about you all the time when she came back. Of course, we’ve seen a couple of your appearances on Morning Coffee, which, as I’m sure you know, have had a phenomenal response. We also think you’ve hit a bit of a zeitgeist with your funny, down-to-earth approach to motherhood—women are sick of being lectured to—and we want to introduce your writing to a whole new audience. Which we know we can do in book format. Mother’s Day of next year would be an ideal time to publish with the obvious gift element, but, to be honest, I think it’s the kind of thing that would do well at any time of the year.”
Madeleine was seriously flabbergasted. She’d known that visitor numbers to her blog had spiraled upward following her recent TV slots, but she’d had no idea that her errant ramblings would attract the attention of a top publishing house. It would be amazing to see all of her blog posts and articles together in one tome, let alone see what the kudos of publishing a book would do to her overall profile.
“So what do you think?” Joanne continued. “Naturally, you’ll want some time to think it over. And of course have your agent look over the offer. Do you have someone representing you at the moment, and if not would you like me to make any introductions?”
Crikey. Now an agent was being suggested, too. This really couldn’t have gone any better. All those hours slogging over pieces she had no idea would ever end up being read, let alone cultivate a following like the one she had now. And eventually growing that audience enough to attract offers from businesses. And now, it seemed, publishers.
She relished the thought of a top publicist bringing her name up at an editorial meeting because they, of all people, happened to love her blog.
She wanted to punch the air like a teenager. A really excited teenager. But instead, she took a deep breath and cleared her throat so as to come across like the serious businesswoman she was. “That would be brilliant, Joanne, thank you. This does sound like a very interesting opportunity for Mad Mum. And I look forward to reviewing all the details.”
“Absolutely,” agreed Joanne. “And just so you know, I dropped my daughter on the head once, too.” She chuckled. “I think every mother has at one time or another, but none of us were prepared to admit it until now. I’ll have the offer couriered over to your home today as well as a list of contacts for some great Irish agents we work with.”
As she hung up the phone, Madeleine felt like dancing. This was unbelievable!
Her entire day—her entire future, even—had changed just like that.
* * *
I scrawled my signature on the line that Declan indicated and then pulled my hand back, as if I had just been burned. I noticed how messy my writing was—usually my cursive script was much more precise and orderly. This looked like it was written by someone else entirely.
Perhaps it had.
“You all right?” Declan asked me with a questioning look on his face and I nodded without making a sound.
“So what’s next?”
He pulled the papers back to the side of the desk where he sat. He stacked everything neatly together then pressed a button on the very complicated-looking phone positioned nearby.
“Alison, I have the signed plenary summons. Can you come and get it?” He turned his attention back to me. “Now we file it at the courts. I’ll get a registered letter out to the Coopers outlining the action, which they’ll have by the end of the week. At the absolute latest.”
I swallowed hard. I couldn’t believe I was really doing this, but I was.
Declan and I had talked again at length after our first meeting, whereupon I reiterated that I didn’t care so much about victory, or even getting as far as any court, so much as I wanted to send the Coopers a message.
Thankfully, he seemed happy to go along with that, rather than suggest any sort of gung-ho approach. Right from the beginning Declan Roe had struck me as the kind of guy who would be happy to be in my corner whatever I decided, and I appreciated that.
Unlike his cousin, who I think was secretly hoping I would march down Knockroe Main Street with a megaphone announcing that I planned to take the Coopers for everything they had.
But this wasn’t about money.
“OK, then we’ll go through the usual legal motions to start the process and take it from there.”
I spent all my days and nights at the hospital now, while the doctors monitored Rosie’s brain activity, waiting for her to show even the slightest sign of improvement.
But she didn’t. And with each passing day, I became more and more despondent, knowing that the longer she stayed under, the greater the chance she would suffer permanent brain damage. But there was nothing else the medical team could do.
If this didn’t work and the seizures returned, the doctors were out of options.
As was Rosie.
I think if there had been even the slightest change for the better in her condition since that awful episode, I wouldn’t be in Declan’s office now.
But I was, because there hadn’t.
Now I supposed all I could do was wait for the Coopers to get the letter detailing my suit, or as Declan referred to it in legal terms, the plenary summons, and see how they reacted.
Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t feel good about this. But I knew I needed to do it—had to do something to hit back at the wave of misery and misfortune I’d been drowning in.
I was tired of bad things “just happening” to me.
It was time to fight back.
21
“This is complete and utter bullshit!”
Tom Cooper was way past the point of being angry. He was irate. He was incensed. He was ready to explode.
Shaking the letter that had arrived at their house by registered post the previous morning, he raised his voice even louder and yelled, “I’m fighting this. The whole way, and I’m countersuing that b—that woman. There’s no way she is pinning the blame on us for this. No way in HELL.”
He slammed the offending piece of paper on their family solicitor Matt Townsend’s desk and looked to those assembled around the office—including Madeleine—as if to say, Go ahead, I dare you to disagree with me.
Madeleine still felt sick to her stomach. The high that she had been riding since learning of her publishing deal had evaporated the moment she’d opened the letter.
At first she’d thought that there had been some sort of mistake. A clerical error or administrative oversight of sorts. It was only when she’d scanned the words on the paper that she realized this was actually happening...
Kate O’Hara was issuing legal proceedings against their family, looking to hold them accountable for little Rosie’s condition.
She’d phoned Tom at once, but he’d immediately dismissed the very idea.
“Complete nonsense. How can we possibly be blamed for the other girl’s illness, just because Clara wasn’t vaccinated?”
“It’s not just that, though,” Madeleine whispered, outlining how the main thrust of the complaint was that they—she—had sent Clara to school knowing she was ill.
And then Tom lost it completely. She could scarcely remember a time when she had seen her husband so angry. “What? But how were you supposed to know she had measles? No, she’s not getting away with this. I’ll call Matt immediately and get this sorted. And we’ll talk about it later. But whatever you do,” he added gently then, “do not blame yourself for this, Maddie. You did nothing wrong. We did nothing wrong.”
In the meantime, Madeleine suggested simply phoning Kate and talking this through with her. She was sure that once she (finally) got Rosie’s mum on the phone or sat down with her over coffee, everything could be straightened out.
Did Kate truly feel Clara was to blame for this, or was she just looking to lash out because her daughter was still unwell?
But Tom argued vociferously against this. He insisted that Madeleine shouldn’t talk to anyone—not even Lucy, because her best friend was also close to Kate.
Madeleine disagreed. There was no way she was shutting her friends out over this. Especially since there was no way she and Tom even had a case to answer, she was sure of it.
But now, sitting in their longtime family solicitor’s office in Dublin, Madeleine didn’t feel so sure this was going to go away, at least not easily or quietly. Tom kept talking about a countersuit and going after Kate for slander and defamation.
Oh, God, it’s just a huge mess.
Madeleine had never had a panic attack before, but she was pretty sure that she might be close to experiencing one for the very first time. Her head was swimming and she was struggling to formulate or verbalize a sentence, let alone get a word in edgewise.
“What should we do? How do we fight this?” demanded Tom. “This woman is not going to get away with this. Dragging us into some bullshit civil claim because she can’t take care of her own daughter. Well, if she thinks she’s having financial problems now and thinks that we’re going to be the answer to her prayers, she’s got another think coming. I’m going to drag her over the coals so hard she’s not going to know—”
“Tom!” Yes, he was trying to protect their family and she loved him for that, but just now he was totally out of control. Madeleine wasn’t just concerned about his level of rhetoric, but the fact that his face was so red she worried he might have a heart attack. She opened her mouth to continue, but their solicitor beat her to the punch.
“Please,” said Matt calmly from the other side of his desk, pulling the letter out of Tom’s reach. “Sit down for a minute. Let’s talk about this.”
Madeleine swallowed hard but felt the smallest amount of tension ease from her stomach when her husband duly obeyed the request. Maybe their solicitor could achieve what she had so far failed to do and keep him in check. She was also confident that Matt would be able to defuse this situation, change Tom’s mind about a countersuit and propose some sort of rational action for solving all of this.
Allowing herself to hope, she turned her furrowed brow to the man who had done so much for them as a family. Matt had advised them on many legal situations over the years (albeit, none like this), had helped them buy investment property, set up a trust for both of their kids, drawn up their will—he had been a true confidant, and Madeleine respected his opinion and advice.
She was sure that he wouldn’t steer them wrong.
Matt steepled his fingers on the polished cherrywood surface in front of him and leaned forward to meet the gaze of his clients on the other side of the desk. For the first time, Madeleine noticed the gray around his temples, too. How long had he been their solicitor? Fifteen years, maybe? He and Tom had been to university together and her husband had known him long before they were married. In any case, she trusted his advice would be sound.
“All right, Tom, I know you’re upset. It’s never a nice feeling to be issued with something like this. Especially after everything your own family has been through lately, what with Clara’s illness and everything.” Momentarily breaking from his monologue, he turned to Madeleine. “How is she, by the way? All better now?”
Madeleine’s mouth was dry, but she managed to get the words out with a nod of her head. “Yes. Right as rain now, thanks. She’s back in school.”
“All right, so. Next steps. We have to file a response to this first off. And to do that we need to set forth some reasons why you should not be held liable for the plaintiff’s damages. This will help us form the basis of a Motion to Dismiss.”
These were the kind of words Madeleine wanted to hear, and it made her spirits temporarily buoy.
“Yes. That’s perfect. That’s what we need. For it to be dismissed.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Tom open his mouth and get ready to speak, but, worried he’d only work himself up again, she cut him off. “How does that happen? We can just talk to Kate and get this sorted out, yes?”
Matt smiled sadly. “I’m afraid that is a bit too simplistic, Madeleine, I’m sorry. And I would recommend keeping all correspondence about this between myself and the other solicitor. Of course, Ms. O’Hara can voluntarily withdraw proceedings, but oftentimes a Motion to Dismiss is granted by the courts when a settlement is reached, there is a lack of jurisdiction or there is a failure to prove duty of care. In this case, she has jurisdiction. So, we could easily get this taken care of if we settle. Or if the factual allegations of the complaint are in fact untrue. We are really going to have to talk all of this through.”
Madeleine nodded, considering this new information. “But can’t I simply go and talk to her? That would be so much easier and frankly—”
“Dammit, Madeleine, you aren’t talking to her! OK? Can we establish that? You’ve done enough talking,” Tom suddenly bellowed, catching his wife—and indeed Matt—completely off guard.
She felt her face flush red with embarrassment. Yes, he was stressed but Tom never spoke to her like that in public; and he certainly didn’t do so in the privacy of their own home. However, she couldn’t address his unacceptable behavior in that instant because he was already pushing his next topic of inquiry to Matt. “For the record, we aren’t settling. There isn’t a chance in hell of that, OK? So she can either dismiss this, or, I swear to God, I will fight this bitch every step of the way.”
“Tom!” Madeleine yelled, once again shocked at her husband’s completely uncharacteristic aggression. But he ignored her. “And that’s not all. If that woman thinks she’s going to have my family fund her single-mother lifestyle, she can piss up a river.”
Madeleine’s mouth dropped open. Now she was so appalled she felt sick. “Oh, my God, what is wrong with you?” She looked at their solicitor, who seemed relatively nonplussed by the exchange. “She lost her husband, Matt. Kate is a widow. He died, unexpectedly, but for some reason Tom makes it sound like she’s some sort of leech.”
She knew plenty of single mothers. Nothing made them different from her. Not at all, except for the fact that they were a million times stronger for taking on parenthood all by themselves. Whereas at least she had support. Or she thought she did, Madeleine clarified, glaring at her irate husband. “And now her daughter is in a coma. For God’s sake, Tom, have some compassion.”
But, if anything, Tom was only getting more emotional and incensed with every passing second. He seemed oblivious to the room, and his mortified, angry wife.
“We’ve broken no laws. There is no law against non-vaccination in this country. How dare she? Of course I’m sorry that her daughter is sick but that’s nothing to do with us, nor is it our fault she didn’t vaccinate her own kid. Why is this woman knocking on our door for this? I mean it. She is not going to drag my family’s name through the mud with this accusation and downright character attack. I have a career to think about. I have a reputation and business interests. No one is going to make some sort of example out of us. Our kids are entitled to a positive future without somebody thinking they can take it all away from them. No way is she getting away with this, Matt. We’re fighting it, and what’s more we want a countersuit. We want to sue her. We want to sue her ass off, so she thinks twice the next time she decides to do something like this...”
At that point Matt interjected with some advice about what they needed to do from a legal perspective if a countersuit truly was Tom’s choice. Madeleine felt her vision narrow and heard a strange ringing in her ears, even as she continued to witness the exchange between the two men, or, more to the point, Tom’s diatribe about the threat to their family’s character and personal liberties.
But at the mention of the character attack, Madeleine started to think
about her own rapidly growing public profile. She thought about all that she had accomplished in the last year or so. It was this realization that really frightened her.
This lawsuit—especially if it got as far as the courts—could be highly public and very divisive. She thought about what her mother-in-law had pointed out before, about public opinion and what a hot-button topic vaccination could be. What would people say when word got out? Would they feel the same way as Kate did and blame Madeleine for passing the measles virus to her daughter? What would they think of her?
She had spent long enough on the internet to know how vicious and unforgiving anything to do with harm to a child could be. If these proceedings went ahead, would people fall on her family’s side or Kate’s?
And if they didn’t and she and Tom were castigated for their stance on vaccination, would Madeleine and her family very quickly become social pariahs?
22
Later that week, I sat next to Rosie’s bed.
She was as silent as ever. The only sounds that came from her were electronic ones, the various beeps and boops that showed her vitals and expressed that she was still of this world.
I, however, was not silent. I made it a point every day to sit close by and talk to her, stroke her beautiful curls and discuss what was happening, how much I loved her and how I missed her. How very much I wished she would get better. I had to believe that she could hear me—I needed to feel close to her. Especially now, when I felt so scared about what was happening outside the hospital walls.
“I’m only doing this for you, honey,” I said, wondering if I was really talking to my daughter or myself. “And if you woke up this minute and showed any sign that everything was going to be OK, I would stop the action immediately. I would.”
Brushing a curl of my daughter’s hair back from her forehead, I let out a heavy sigh. If anything I felt more exhausted now than I had in the weeks before. I knew that much of it was based on stress. Pretty soon, if not already, all of Knockroe town, perhaps even Glencree, would hear what was going on. And while I was sure I would have supporters like Christine who believed I was doing the right thing, I also knew that there were going to be critics, too. My thoughts turned immediately to Lucy, one of Madeleine Cooper’s closest and oldest friends. Whose side would she be on?
