Alice’s relief was obvious and the tears didn’t come though they had been close. Nicola was astonished as they sorted the clothes. Cassandra was a star. She had taken track suits, underwear, pyjamas and some good clothes. There was enough there to get them by – for the moment anyway.
Alice was relieved, andNicola noticed that the smile of relief reached her eyes.
“That’s something positive anyway,” Nicola said. “They’ll have their own clothes and some of their toys.”
“Yes, but I’m running out of money. I don’t know what to do.”
“We’ll go to your Community Welfare Officer right now – she has a clinic from two today – and see if we can get you an emergency payment. It will be enough to get you by for the week if you’re careful – very careful.”
Alice looked plain scared as they arrived at the HSE Community Welfare Centre.Nicola could understand how any new applicant would find it intimidatingand in this case the applicant, Alice, hadn’t known up until yesterday that such a person as a Community Welfare Officer existed.
As Nicola had limited time – she had an appointment with another client at three forty-five – she had rung ahead and asked if they could jump the queue, mentioning also that the children had to be collected from school and there was no one else to do it. The CWOhad agreed reluctantly but emphasised that Alice would be treated like everyone else no matter who she thought her partner was.
Nicola and Alice sat and waited for the CWO to emerge from her office. At least fifty per cent of the people in the waiting room seemed to be under huge stress. An African woman with a baby who clearly was ill was sitting opposite them and beside them was an Irishman whose tattooed hands were shaking.
At last the CWO came to her office doorway with a departing client and beckoned to them.
Nicola knew the Community Welfare Officer well. She had the jaded appearance of a person who had heard it all. She was known to be cranky but fair.
“This is Alice O’Brien,” Nicola said. “I’m in the process of sorting out her social welfare payment and accommodation but she needs an emergency payment. She has only fifteen euro left and that will go in McDonald’s this evening.”
“Alice, you need to complete this form,” the woman behind the desk said. “If you have any questions just ask.”
She spoke as if she was talking to a child, which in some ways reassured Nicola. She must have believed the story.
Nicola watched as Alice painstakingly completed the form.“Don’t put down your Taylors Hill address – put the B&B,” she said.
The lower lip started to quiver again.“Why?” It came out as a wail.
“Because it’s not your address any longer and we are going to put down eviction as the reason you need the cash.”
Alice did as she was told and the other women watched as tears slid from her face onto the paper in front of her. When she had the form completed she handed it across the desk.
“I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you some questions now, Alice, which you may consider to be intrusive,” the CWO said gently.
“Go ahead,” Alice said.
“What was your previous address?”
“It was 3, Lady Gregory Court, Taylors Hill.”
The CWO began to take notes.
“How long did you live there?”
“Around twelve years.”
“Were you renting?”
“No – we owned it – at least my partner did.”
“And you lived there with him?”
“Yes – and our two children. But he lives half of every week in Dublin.”
“Why did you leave that address?”
“I didn’t leave. I was locked out while I collected the children from school a couple of days ago.” Alice was trembling now.
“Have you made any attempt to get in?”
“Yes, but the doorman wouldn’t let me in and he threatened to call the Guards when my neighbour called a locksmith.”
“Have you contacted your partner?”
“I’ve tried but he won’t answer my calls.”
“Is he currently employed, your partner?”
“Yes, he’s . . . he’s . . . a politician.”
The CWO glanced at Alice as if she were about to ask a question but then thought better of it. She returned to her note-taking.
“Do you have a job or any other source of income?”
“No – Jack has always paid for everything.”
“Any savings?”
“No, I haven’t.”
The CWO laid down her pen and looked at Alice. “Okay, Alice. I’ll give you a cash payment today and I’ll set up a weekly payment for you for the next three weeks. That should tide you over until you sort yourself out. If there is any change in your circumstances, such as if your partner resumes supporting you or the children, you must contact me immediately.”
“Of course! Do you think he might?” The hope in Alice’s tone was pitiful.
“You would know that better than me,” the other woman said, not unkindly.
“I don’t know what to think. Everything happened so suddenly. I am still hoping to wake up and find that it’s a dream. The only positive thing is that things can hardly get worse.”
The other women looked at her sympathetically. Both knew that things could and probably would get worse before they got better.
Alice and Nicola left the office together. They parted company at the gates of the Health Centre and Alice, carrying the bag of clothes, trudged slowly towards the grim grey building that was the school. The B&B where she had stayed the night before was a few hundred yards further on.
When Nicola arrived at her apartment that evening she just wanted to have a bath, a nice dinner, perhaps with a glass of wine, and an early night. She was finding this case very stressful. All the time, she was conscious that she was on dangerous ground, whether or not Alice was telling the truth. In fact, she believed that she was on more dangerous ground if Alice was telling the truth than if she was not.
Jonathan looked like he had just woken up.
“Would you start the dinner?” she said. “I am exhausted and I could do with a long soak. You’ll find everything in the fridge. I did a shop yesterday on the way home from work.” The apartment was like a bomb had hit it but she decided that she wouldn’t mention that. If he got dinner she would forgive him anything – put his untidiness down to his artistic temperament.
“There isn’t anything I feel like cooking,” came the bored reply.
“Go out and get something else so, but you could do a stir fry. The ingredients for that are there and it’s quick and easy.”
“Actually I can’t stay for dinner,” he said suddenly. “I have to meet a guy in The Quays for a drink. He may be able to set up an exhibition for me.”
“Oh! You didn’t say.” Nicola was surprised.
“That’s because I didn’t know until today. Actually, I should be going about now. Couldn’t lend me the price of a cab, could you?”
“Why don’t you get a bus?”
“At this hour I wouldn’t get there on time.”
Nicola handed him ten euro, feeling mean and resentful at once. She often lent Jonathan money but she never got it back. He was always broke, waiting for his next big sale which seldom came. As he sauntered towards the door she wondered again what she was doing with him. Any vestige of romance in the relationshipwas long since dead. He was also not very inclined to look for work but often complained about being broke, criticised what she cooked, and suggested, practically demanded, ‘they’ get new computer, a larger flat-screen TV, aniPod . . . though they both knew he would not make a contribution to any new purchases.
There must be nicer guys out there, she mused. And what’s so bad about being alone anyway? With that thought she ran the bath and decided to microwave a ready meal for one.
Chapter 4
There was a loud ring on Nicola’s door at seven thirty the following morning.Jonathan was s
ound asleep beside her. She hadn’t heard him come in and he was oblivious to the world now so she presumed he’d had a lot to drink or smoke or both.She nudged him into wakefulness.
“There’s someone at the door,” she whispered.
“Nobody for me,” he mumbled and turned over.
Nicola went to the window and looked into the front garden of the apartment block. There were two gardaí standing on the front patio.
“It’s the Gardaí! Get up! I wonder what they want.” She was hoping that Jonathan hadn’t been in some sort of trouble the night before. She was always on edge where he was concerned.
Jonathan leapt from the bed as if it were on fire and started rummaging in his locker. “Don’t let them in yet!” He produced a pouch of what she knew to be cannabis before she even smelled it.
“I thought you’d got rid of that! Have you anything else?”
“Naw. Used that up yesterday.”
Nicola was livid, though now was not the time to have a confrontation.
Jonathan flushed the contents of the pouch down the toilet as she went to the door.
“We have a warrant to search this apartment,” one of the gardaí said before Nicola had an opportunity to greet them.
“On what grounds?” she asked, trying to read the document he flashed in front of her.
“There have been complaints of unusual traffic into and out of the apartment, particularly late at night and there is a suspicion of drug-dealing.”
“That is completely ridiculous!” Nicola couldn’t figure out where the complaints might have come from. It was more than six months since their neighbour had complained to the Gardaí about the noise and might have, on that occasion, smelled the cannabis. The late-night traffic to the apartment was definitely a fabrication. The situation was weird as well as worrying.
“Do I have to let you in, or do I have the option to ask you to come back when we’re dressed?”
“I’m afraid not. With a search warrant there is usually an element of surprise. There is no point in giving the resident an opportunity to destroy evidence. So if you would stand aside.”
Nicola let the two gardaí, one male and one female, through, hoping that there was no evidence of any drug in the place. She didn’t want to be booked for possession. Jonathan dabbled but she knew he was not a dealer and she hoped that he wouldn’t have a dealer in the apartment, but she wasn’t sure about that.
“What is the procedure?” she asked.
“We just search the premises,” was the reply.
Nicola went into the kitchen. Jonathan was there, looking groggy. She put on the kettle.
“I had better get ready for work,” she said to him. “They’ll probably be finished by the time I’m ready to leave.” Her voice was shaking and so was her hand as she put two slices of bread into the toaster.
The gardaí came in and began to open cupboards in the kitchen.
“Do you think you could look in the bathroom and the bedroom first?”Nicolaasked.
Theyboth looked at her, obviously not understanding why she would make that request.
“I need to get to work. I’m a social worker and it wouldn’t be good if I go into work late because theGardaí were searching my apartment. The fact that you won’t find anything might get lost in the telling.”
“Okay,” said the female garda. “If you would both remain in the kitchen I’ll start on the bathroom and my colleague will continue here.”
Nicola could hardly breathe as they started their search.She continued getting her breakfast mechanically and when thegarda was finished in the bathroom she went in and closed the door, glad not to have to look at either them or Jonathan.
In the shower she made the decision to dump Jonathan. She couldn’t go on like this. There was nothing in the relationship for her any longer and she now realisedmore than ever that he could be quite a liability. She would tell him tonight and hope that he would go over the weekend.
When she emerged from the bathroom Jonathan was still in the kitchen, the gardaí emptying drawers and cupboards around him.
“We’ve finished in the bedroom,” the womangarda said.
Nicola got dressed, applied her make-up and got ready to leave. She hopedthey would be finished soon. She didn’t want to leave them with Jonathan and she didn’t want to be late for work either but it was a small apartment so she was pretty sure that they wouldn’t take much longer.
“We’re finished,” the male garda said when Nicola emerged from the bedroom. “We haven’t found anything, so you have nothing to worry about.”
She thought his voice sounded sympathetic.
“Surprise, surprise,” she replied curtly. “I need to go to work now so if you couldplease leave before me – I want to talk to my partner.”
“Of course! Good morning.” Again he seemed almost apologetic.
“Good morning,” Nicola said and, closing the door behind them, she went back into the kitchen.
Jonathan said nothing at all.
“I’ve got to go now,” Nicola said, “but I want to talk to you tonight.”
“Not tonight, I’m afraid.” Jonathan sounded bored again. “I have to go to Dublin today and I thought I might stay the weekend.”
“What’s so important that you have to go today?”
“Nothing much. I’m just meeting a few friends.”
“Well, meet them tomorrow. I need to talk to you tonight, it’s important.And could you tidy up here and get a start on the dinner before I get home?”
Jonathan knew by her tone that this was serious.“I suppose I could get the train in the morning, or you could drive me and do some shopping while I meet the guys. We could stay with my folks.”
“I don’t think so,” Nicola replied.
If she played her cards right she would be helping him pack tonight and he could stay with his folks until he met some other gullible woman who fell for the line about being his muse.
She was glad not to bump into any of the neighbours as she went to the car. For some reason the traffic was never so dense on Fridays as other days. She got into work on time and immediately focused on getting Alice sorted out. The refuge confirmed that they wouldn’t be able to put her up so as a last resort she contacted Cassandra about the place she’d called The Coven. She would have to inspect it before she considered placing Alice and the girls there.
Cassandra, true to her word, had managed to find a phone number for Cappagh Hall and Nicola phoned immediately and talked to the owner, Eliza Lynch. She seemed very sympathetic and gave Nicola directions to come and meet her.
Driving up to Cappagh Hall was an entirely different experience from driving into Lady Gregory Court. The drive was about a quarter of a mile long with mature trees on either side. It had an old-world feel about it. There were sheep in the meadows on either side and she saw horses grazing in the distance. It was an idyllic setting but she wondered how someone like Alice would manage here without a car and with two school-going children to consider.
The mansion was very old and looked dilapidated from the outside.Eliza Lynch greeted her at the door. She was an unusual person to say the least. She was wearing a flowing dress and flat shoesand she wore her long shiny grey hair in a sort of French roll. She led Nicola into the house and floated into a large kitchen which would not have been inappropriate in a hotel.
She invited Nicola to take a seat at the table and went to put on a coffeemaker. Then she took a seat opposite her.
“Tell me about this person,” she said.
“I can’t tell you much, I’m afraid. Because of the confidentiality involved in my work I can only talk about her in general terms.I’m here to establish if this place is suitable and to enquire if you have space. If your accommodation is suitable and you have a space and are willing to offer it to her, she will then tell you her name and any other details she feels are appropriate. But in general her story is that she has two little girls aged eleven and eight and her partner has abandon
ed her suddenly. She now finds herself dependent on welfare after having had quite a comfortable life, financially at least, up until recently.”
“It sounds sadly like the situation my own daughter found herself in about ten years ago,” the other woman said sadly.
“And did you look after her?”
“Alas, no. We had not approved of her choice of partner and when the relationship broke down she didn’t feel able to come home, even though she was alone with twin boys.In fact we didn’t find out about her plight until about six months after it happened but she still wouldn’t come home. She lives in London and I will always regret that she didn’t want us near her at that sad time.”
“Oh,” Nicola was taken aback. “I heard that you set up this premises after your daughter was abandoned. I presumed she was your first tenant.”
“No.” Eliza’s eyes filled with tears. “She has never been in this house.”
“I’m sorry,” was all Nicola could say.
“But we have been able to help many other women in the same situation.”Eliza brightened up.“Why don’t I show you around? My husband and I retired from conventional farming around the time our daughter left Ireland and we bought this mansion. We have since converted one wing of it into several apartments for the women we help and we run an organic garden which is my husband’s hobby and he is quite passionate about it. It all works very well. I’ll show you the two vacant apartments. We have three families in the others at present.”
As they were chatting, a man about the same age as Eliza, dressed in corduroy trousers and wellingtons but looking every inch a country gentleman, came into the kitchen leaving a trail of mud in his wake.
“This is my husband, Hugo,” Eliza said. “As you can see he has been working in the garden.This is Nicola.She is a social worker and is enquiring if we could perhaps accommodate one of her clients.”
The man smiled at Nicola.“I won’t shake your hand,” he said, showing her with a gesture that he was covered in mud.“But you are very welcome and we do have a vacancy at present.”
Who is Alice? Page 4
