‘Poor Paudie.’ Nina felt a tear roll down her cheek. ‘He must be devastated.’
Sean said nothing.
‘Was it Paudie who found her?’
‘I don’t bloody know!’ cried Sean. ‘All I know is that she’s dead. OK?’
Nina stared at him. There was no reason for Sean to snap at her like that.
‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘It was a shock, that’s all.’
Nina put her arms around him. Sean was easily affected by people and events. He felt things more deeply than anyone ever imagined. She thought that perhaps it was part of his artistic nature. He leaned his head on hers for a moment and then moved away from her.
‘I’m OK,’ he said. ‘I don’t know why I’m so . . . so . . .’
‘She was an old girlfriend,’ said Nina. ‘Of course you’re upset.’
Sean and Nina had only once discussed the fact that Elva was an old flame of his. It had been shortly before their marriage, and she’d teased him about the number of hearts in Ardbawn that he’d broken in the past, and the ones that were about to be broken by his marriage. Sean had laughed and said that his exploits had been totally overhyped and that he was happy to be settling down with her. He’d told her he’d already forgotten every other woman he’d ever dated.
Nina only vaguely remembered Sean and Elva as a couple, although they’d made a striking pair walking along the main street together at the time; Sean dark and brooding and Elva blonde and graceful.
Sean’s words brought her back to the present. ‘We were only kids back then. Jeez, she’s been married to Paudie for, what, fifteen, sixteen years now, you can hardly call her an old girlfriend.’
‘Sixteen years sounds like for ever when you’re young, but it isn’t that long really.’
‘Yeah, right.’
‘Why did you break it off with her?’
It was a question she’d never asked him about any of his previous relationships. It had never been something she either needed or wanted to know.
‘It was a mutual decision,’ said Sean.
Nina raised an eyebrow. Everyone knew that Elva had been heartbroken when Sean had dumped her. It certainly hadn’t been a mutual decision.
‘We were too young,’ he said impatiently. ‘Although maybe it was me who was too young for her at the time. After all, she married Paudie soon after.’
‘But she threw herself into the river after you two split up, didn’t she?’
‘That old chestnut!’ He snorted. ‘She tripped and fell.’
‘How d’you know?’
‘I . . . Look, Ellie didn’t . . . Oh, this is ridiculous! It was years ago.’
‘Sorry.’ Nina realised she was probably being insensitive.
‘She’s . . . she was the sort of person who could get under your skin. She could overdramatise things sometimes. But I never thought there was any truth in that story.’ He swallowed hard. ‘Never.’
‘She wasn’t pregnant when she married Paudie, was she?’
‘Why on earth would you think that?’
‘It’s surprising, that’s all. You break it off with her, she’s devastated, and the next thing she’s waltzing up the aisle with him.’
‘She couldn’t have been pregnant when she married him. JJ was born much later. Look, Nina, I don’t want to talk about her any more. I’m going out to the ivy again. I need to do something physical.’
‘OK,’ she said.
She watched him as he strode down the garden, his shoulders hunched. The news about Elva had clearly shaken him. Which was understandable, it had shaken her too. She remembered her mother talking about her once. Dolores had remarked that Ellie Slater was a girl who thought too much of herself. She believed she was made for better things. Which, Nina supposed, in her marriage to Paudie O’Malley, she’d certainly got.
And she would have got even more if she’d lived, Nina thought now as the ringing phone brought her abruptly back to the present. She would have been part of the rich and glamorous set that wanted to welcome Paudie into its midst. After Elva’s death, Paudie had maintained a dignified silence despite innuendo in some of the less reputable newspapers that there had been something untoward about it. That thirty-eight-year-old women didn’t just fall from bedroom windows. That the gardai weren’t happy about the circumstances. No matter what was printed, Paudie said nothing. Until the day he sued one of the papers and got a substantial settlement as a result.
A clever man, Paudie, thought Nina as she picked up the phone.
Always was. Always would be. But sometimes being clever just wasn’t enough.
Sheridan was enjoying her conversation with Hayley Goodwin. Talia’s aunt was younger than she’d expected, and as elegantly groomed as her niece. Sheridan thanked her for telling Talia about the job, and told her that she was enjoying her stay in Ardbawn.
‘A bit quiet for you, I’m sure.’ Hayley’s blue eyes twinkled.
‘Different,’ said Sheridan.
‘Getting to know people yet?’
Sheridan thought of all the people she’d met over the last couple of weeks, but mostly about her upcoming date with Joe, and she couldn’t help smiling.
‘A bit,’ she told Hayley. ‘I’m staying with Nina Fallon.’
‘I know.’ Hayley grinned at her. ‘The younger people in the town like to think that Ardbawn has grown into more than a village, but the truth is that most of the time everyone always has a good idea about what’s going on. We only have a few deep, dark secrets.’
‘You hardly need a newspaper, so,’ said Sheridan while wondering about the deep, dark secrets.
‘The bush telegraph can be quicker,’ agreed Hayley. ‘But it’s nice to have your name in the paper. Well, depending on the circumstances, I guess.’
‘In your case, definitely,’ said Sheridan. ‘We’re doing a piece about your next play.’
Hayley chatted happily about Blithe Spirit, the play they were putting on for the Ardbawn Festival, and how the dramatic society hoped it would be their best performance yet.
‘A pity you don’t have your famous leading man for it,’ said Sheridan. ‘Or will Sean Fallon return to Ardbawn?’
‘I doubt that very much,’ said Hayley. ‘He hasn’t been here to rehearse with us. Besides, we wouldn’t dream of insulting Nina by asking him.’
I’m turning into a desperate gossip, thought Sheridan as she listened to Hayley talk about Sean and Nina, and how upset most people were for the guesthouse owner. I never used to care about people’s personal lives before. But since coming here, all I want to know is personal stuff about guys like Paudie and Sean!
‘But you must know it all already,’ finished Hayley, who’d repeated the story Nina had told with lots more embellishment about Sean’s appearances in Dublin nightclubs with Lulu Adams and other female members of the Chandler’s Park cast.
‘Is he a complete pig, then?’ asked Sheridan.
‘It’s a funny thing,’ said Hayley slowly. ‘He and Nina seemed an almost perfect couple. Which surprised everyone in the town, because she’s not at all the sort of woman he usually went for. There was a bit of talk at the time they got married that it was old man Fallon who pushed his son into it. The doc seemed to think that there was money in the Doherty family. Certainly the house and land was worth a lot.’
‘Hardly seems a reason for marriage, though.’
‘I’d be the last person to know.’ Hayley chuckled. ‘I’m an old spinster.’
‘Hayley!’
‘I know. Doesn’t it sound sad and lonesome and awful? But I’m forty-five and unmarried, so I’m not sure what else you could call me. Except I love living on my own. I’d hate to be married. Hate to go through what Nina’s going through. I like my life far too much for that.’
‘Nina said she threw Sean out.’
‘She may well have done. In which case, I wouldn’t bet on him staying out.’
‘Why?’
‘Oh, there was gossip before about Sean Fallon
having a bit on the side. The bush telegraph didn’t work as well as it might have, though, or else he was incredibly discreet, because it never came out one way or the other. But if he did, Nina forgave him, and I can’t help thinking she’ll forgive him now too, if that’s what he wants.’
‘And is it?’
‘Maybe not right now, when he’s behaving like a child in a sweet shop. But d’you seriously expect a girl in her twenties to keep someone like Sean Fallon interested? He may be a flirt and he might like a bit of extramarital sex, but he’s an intelligent man and she’s a total airhead.’
‘You know that because . . .?’
‘I saw her being interviewed. All smiles and giggles and simpering. She’s not a proper actress. She’s a silly tart.’
‘So no part for her in Blithe Spirit, then?’ joked Sheridan.
‘Absolutely not.’ Hayley looked wistful. ‘I wish that Sean had kept it in his pants. Then he’d be with us again this year, Chandler’s Park or not.’
‘Can’t have everything, I suppose,’ said Sheridan. She got up to leave. ‘I’ll be along for the first night.’
‘Of course you will,’ said Hayley. ‘We always have front-row seats reserved for the local press.’
On her way back to the guesthouse, Sheridan phoned Nina to say she was going to spend some time in the lounge that evening so that she could access the internet. Alo Brady, her ex-colleague on the City Scope, had emailed her wanting to know if she was still working on something about Paudie O’Malley and his business empire. Sheridan replied that she was still getting her research together but that she was hoping to interview him shortly (she didn’t say that she’d still no idea how to go about that, although she was hopeful that one of her increasing number of contacts in the town would eventually make it happen). Alo had then mailed her back to say that he was leaving the City Scope for a position with an online business news site. The way of the future, he’d said, and Business Today was becoming more and more influential. The news site was very interested in Paudie’s empire. If Sheridan thought she could put a good story with a personal interview together, it could be a potential winner to submit to the site’s editor.
When she read Alo’s email, Sheridan’s immediate thought was that, once again, she’d been beaten by an ex-colleague in the new jobs stakes. She was trying very hard not to brood on the fact that since everyone else was getting jobs, she must be the worst journalist in the world. It was like being home again, with Con and Matt taking all the glory and her in the background wondering why she didn’t succeed like them. But there are new opportunities on the horizon for me, she reminded herself. My horoscope says so, and it’s been right so far, even if I did write it myself.
One way or another she was determined to get an interview with Paudie O’Malley and reveal something about him that nobody knew. And when she did that, she would surprise all those people who seemed to think that she could only write about a dismal League of Ireland match on a wet Friday in the back of beyond.
Sheridan was pleased when Nina suggested that she have dinner in the house before doing whatever she needed to do on the computer. Her appetite had returned (so much for love robbing me of a desire to eat, she thought, and looking more sylph-like when I meet Joe) and she was ravenous; the only food she’d eaten all day being the emergency Kit Kat she kept in her desk drawer. The thought of Nina’s cooking made her mouth water, and she remembered the half-eaten packet of fruit pastilles in her bag. She popped one into her mouth, not caring that it was green and therefore not one of her favourite flavours.
She stopped off at the deli before going to the house and picked up a bottle of wine. Although she’d come to an arrangement with Nina about paying for any dinners (because she didn’t think it was right to sponge off the other woman’s generous nature), the price Nina had suggested didn’t reflect the fact that last time they’d guzzled a bottle between them.
The guesthouse was, as ever, warm and cosy, but Sheridan thought that Nina was distracted as she served up an aromatic shepherd’s pie.
‘Is everything OK?’ she asked eventually.
‘Sure,’ said Nina, who then retreated into silence again while Sheridan studied her covertly. She thought the older woman looked stressed, and eventually said so.
‘Ah, I was just reminiscing,’ said Nina. ‘Thinking about life here a long time ago.’
‘It must be strange to have lived in the same small town for your whole life,’ remarked Sheridan.
‘Not for me,’ Nina said. ‘But maybe for Sean.’
‘Did he go away?’
Nina told her about Sean’s years in Dublin, of his struggle to be an actor and of how he eventually returned to Ardbawn.
‘So that’s why you think he’s living the dream now? And why you’re prepared to forgive him for Lulu Adams?’
‘I’ve always felt . . . that I held him back,’ admitted Nina. ‘I trapped him into the sort of life that he wasn’t really suited to.’
‘Hardly trapped,’ said Sheridan.
Nina looked pensive.
‘Sean’s failings are his, not yours,’ Sheridan said. ‘You shouldn’t feel that him having an affair is your fault. That’s ridiculous.’
‘I wish I was as strong as you,’ said Nina.
‘You are,’ Sheridan reminded her. ‘You threw him out in the first place.’
‘Yes, I did.’
Sheridan desperately wanted to tell Nina not to take him back. But, she told herself, she knew nothing about their relationship. It wasn’t up to her to tell Nina anything at all.
After dinner, Sheridan sat in the residents’ lounge with her laptop and a cup of coffee. Nina said that she had things to do in the kitchen and left her alone. Sheridan had found out the name of the police sergeant who’d investigated Elva O’Malley’s accidental death, and she was planning to set up a meeting with him to ask him about it. Vinnie Murray was now a superintendent based in Kilkenny. Sheridan hadn’t yet decided how she’d explain her interest in the old tragedy, but she was good at getting people to talk to her, and she hoped the policeman would have snippets of information that weren’t already public knowledge. She was now absolutely convinced there was something worth writing about when it came to Paudie O’Malley’s private life. The only thing that surprised her was that nobody else seemed to have beaten her to it.
After a while she stopped looking at her laptop and gazed into space instead. Without even meaning to, she was thinking of Joe again. She had to keep reminding herself that the most attractive man she’d ever met in her life had asked her on a date. A proper date, in the posh restaurant of the Riverview Hotel. She didn’t usually do posh restaurants. She frowned slightly as she considered her wardrobe, which was certainly not posh-restaurant friendly. But you don’t have to get tarted up, she reminded herself. People don’t, these days. Not unless it’s a seriously glam affair. You’re only going to dinner. With a man you want to impress. She realised, with a shock, that impressing men wasn’t something she’d tried to do much of before.
Now you’re being silly, she said, under her breath. He’s a man, not some kind of being you have to dazzle. Cop on to yourself, woman. You can wear jeans and a nice top and you’ll be fine.
She turned to her laptop again, but she was still thinking about Joe. The trouble was, she wanted to be more than fine for him. She wanted to be special. She wanted him to be pleased that he’d asked her out. Proud to be with her. She didn’t care if that made her seem shallow. It wasn’t shallow to want to look your best. Was it?
She twirled a strand of her hair between her fingers. It could do with a cut, she thought. Maybe a conditioning treatment too. Perhaps . . . No, she told herself firmly. No way am I getting a full body treatment at the spa before meeting him. No matter how soft and smooth Ritz promises I’ll be afterwards. I can’t afford it. And I’m not going to turn into the sort of woman who thinks she has to spend hours primping and preening herself before going out. I’m not. Absolutely. I’m fine t
he way I am.
I still need a new dress, though, she murmured. Maybe I’ll check out the shops at the weekend. After all, I haven’t bought anything but fleeces in ages.
Chapter 19
Sheridan picked up a copy of the Central News on her way to Kilkenny the following Saturday morning. She scanned her piece on the land dispute, which she thought was very even handed (it had been a major challenge to explain the opposing points of view of both parties because they were both reasonable yet mutually exclusive); she also saw that DJ hadn’t changed her amendments to Des’s sports reports, which pleased her (she wondered if Des himself noticed them; they were even more radical than the previous week). Her Ask Sarah column, which advised an angst-ridden girl against stalking a previous boyfriend, sounded both calm and sympathetic and she hoped that the girl herself would think so too. She finished up with a look at the horoscopes, hoping that Nina would take her advice about putting the past behind her. As for her own – her life had improved immeasurably since telling herself that she was back to winning ways. She totally was. Absolutely. Even if her winning ways were entirely related to having a date with the sexiest man in Ardbawn.
Despite the fact that the main reason for her trip to Kilkenny was to talk to the garda superintendent who’d been involved in the investigation into Elva O’Malley’s death, she also planned to see if she could find a suitable dress for her night out – though without Talia to advise her she wasn’t entirely sure she’d succeed in achieving the wow factor she aspired to. All the same, she was hopeful of finding something a little more upmarket than her wardrobe currently contained.
I’ve got to stop thinking about clothes and make-up, she told herself as she swung into the grounds of the garda station, at least until I’ve interviewed Superintendent Vinnie Murray and got the low-down from him on Elva’s death. After that I can embrace my inner feminine side. If I can find it.
She got out of the car, locked it and went inside. The superintendent, a genial man who looked to be in his late fifties, was ready for her. Sheridan had been slightly surprised, but also relieved, when he’d readily agreed to talk to her. She’d told him – without mentioning Paudie or Elva – that she was just looking for background information on a past case he’d been involved in. Vinnie Murray had reminded her that there was a press office that could help her with whatever she was writing about, and Sheridan had replied that she was just trying to get a feel for the subject and that her piece wasn’t about the case as such but it would be great to talk to him all the same.
Better Together Page 21
