by Anita Notaro
‘It’s fine you being stumped, but you’re paying me to solve the problem,’ I told him. ‘Those cookies are costing you dearly.’
‘I had hoped for a fresh perspective and all that,’ he said with his mouth full. ‘But to be honest, I’d gone down every reasonable avenue myself before I came here.’
‘OK, I need to see your house. And your gran’s. And meet her,’ I decided. ‘So, what are you going to tell her about me?’
‘The truth, I suppose, it’s all I can do.’
‘And are you happy to do that?’
‘Yes, I’ll do anything to sort this out, to be honest. As I told you before, I love animals and I enjoy minding him while she’s away but really this is wrecking my head. I spend my entire life with my gran, and every time I go around she has visitors so clearly doesn’t need me. Then I have to stay and make polite conversation, and if I’m forced to eat one more slice of her tea brack I’ll throw up.’
‘You’re clearly too polite,’ I told him, my mind made up. ‘So, when can I call?’
We arranged a time the following evening and I spent an hour writing up everything I could think of in my notes, feeling even more inadequate when I’d finished.
Next evening I headed for Dalkey, a seaside village as far removed from Bray as Barcelona is from Benidorm. One of the jewels in south-county Dublin’s well-encrusted crown, it was full to overflowing with people for whom life seemed effortless. Many of the homes I whizzed by were magazine-cover material and I saw more clipped box hedging and manicured lawns than I’d ever encountered before. The main street, however, was more quaint than ostentatious, although the understated clothes shops alongside cafés selling antiques and housing art galleries at the rear gave some clue as to the clientele. It was a charming place to get lost in, I decided, so I left the bike in the car park of the Queen’s, a well-known local pub, and went walkabout, as I had time to spare. Most of the shops were closed or just about to, so I indulged in a bit of window-gazing and resolved to come back in daylight and explore some more.
I had arranged to meet Ronan outside his office and walk to meet his gran, so I texted him as soon as I arrived at the converted stone cottage and then sat on the wall to wait. It looked like a charming place to work, if the outside was anything to go by. The glass in the wood-framed windows was gleaming, and the sills were overflowing still with cascading autumn flowers in every imaginable colour, while the fire-engine-red front door was flanked by tumbling hanging baskets. In fact, apart from the giveaway brass plaque, you’d have sworn the house was occupied by a passionate retired gardener, which is what I told Ronan as he came rushing out, looking preoccupied.
‘What? Oh, yes that’s Maura, our cleaner, tea lady, collector of newspapers and laundry and general minder,’ he said breathlessly. ‘She loves the place and is regularly to be seen here on Saturdays. You should see what she’s done with the back garden, it’s full of strawberries and tomatoes in summer. And she never asks me for money – she swaps seeds, apparently.’ He looked bemused then a bit guilty. ‘In fact, you’ve just reminded me that I really need to buy her something nice as a present, it’s her birthday this week and I totally forgot.’
‘She must like working for you,’ I remarked as we crossed the road and headed towards the sea.
‘Yes, she does.’ He sighed. ‘It’s what made me come back here in the first place. All Dad’s employees are still here, and they’re really decent people, they’ve sort of adopted me.’ He shrugged. ‘It’s just that sometimes . . .’ He tailed off, ‘I dunno, I just wish it had all been different, I suppose. Between work and my gran, it’s a very dull routine.’ He shook his head as if to clear his thoughts. ‘Anyway, Myrtle lives just over the road here,’ he said, changing the subject. ‘I told her you were helping me to try and figure out why Deputy seems so attached to me, although she said – and I’m using her words – that it was my fatal charm that had him fatally attracted.’
‘Sounds like she’s a fan of yours.’ I smiled, and wondered for the tenth time what the story was with him, but I didn’t ask. So many times recently it felt like I had a tiny role in lots of tangled lives, and today was yet another one of them. Funny that I thought I’d left all that behind in the last job. But somehow this was different, maybe because the human woes were actually not my concern at all, really. For once I wasn’t trying to solve anything. This made everything appear simpler, or perhaps it was just that I had simplified my own life and de-cluttered my own head quite a bit in the process.
‘Myrtle’s great, by the way,’ Ronan said with real warmth. ‘I hope I haven’t given you the wrong impression.’ He looked worried. ‘In fact, I’m lucky in so many ways.’ He had a faraway look in his eyes that belied what he was saying. ‘I’m surrounded by people who genuinely care for me. My mum is a friend more than anything else and all of Dad’s employees would go to the ends of the earth for me.’
‘So why do I suspect you don’t feel lucky?’ It was out before I knew it.
‘Because I’m a selfish little shit who needs a kick up the arse,’ he said without looking at me. When I glanced at him, his stony face put an end to any further conversation.
I mentally gave myself a kick as a reminder not to stick my nose in uninvited again.
‘Here we are,’ he said, pointing to a stone cottage not unlike his office, except that this one had pretty net curtains instead of blinds, and the door was that particular shade of blue that many older people seem attached to.
Myrtle, however, looked anything but set in her ways. For a start, she was wearing a multicoloured flowing skirt, T-shirt and jangly earrings. Her hair was streaked with grey but was cut in a very attractive long bob, and it swung about just above her shoulders. She was the trendiest granny I’d seen in a while.
‘Come in.’ She hugged her grandson and shook my hand firmly. ‘I have a friend round for a chat.’ She smiled warmly at me.
‘She has more friends than I have socks,’ Ronan whispered, as we followed her down the long, narrow hall to the sitting room. ‘And they’re all my age. I don’t understand why they’d want to visit an old lady, unless they’re after her money – and she has plenty.’ He grinned.
‘How many are there?’
‘Lots. I’ve lost count of the number of seemingly busy career women who appear to enjoy spending time with her.’
Before I had a chance to reply, we’d reached our destination and Myrtle was introducing me as ‘the dog shrink’ in a giggly, girly tone. I shook hands with Rachel, a very attractive thirtysomething blonde.
‘We met on the internet,’ Myrtle explained.
I must have looked confused, because she added, ‘At a bridge class. I play bridge regularly, but I like to invite my opponents for tea, so that I can see the whites of their eyes.’
And to think I’d imagined that all bridge players were in their dotage.
‘You should get Skype.’ I smiled, and then realized she’d probably never heard of it.
‘Oh, I have it,’ she replied easily. ‘In fact, if my grandson had it I could keep an eye on him much more easily and check he’s eating properly.’ She winked at me. ‘But somehow with bridge it’s not the same as sitting opposite a person face to face. Now Ronan, would you mind making Rachel a cup of coffee while I chat to Louisa about our shared scourge?’ She giggled.
By the ‘see what I mean?’ look on his face, he’d entertained more than one of Myrtle’s bridge buddies, although not many men I knew would shy away from getting to know Rachel.
‘Sure,’ he answered easily, as Rachel got up and let him lead her into the kitchen.
‘You don’t mind, do you?’ Myrtle asked Rachel. ‘This shouldn’t take too long.’
‘Not at all.’ The young woman seemed perfectly happy. ‘I’m dying for a coffee actually. No lunch.’ She smiled at me. ‘Again.’
‘I’ve been there, too many times,’ I told her, as Myrtle called ‘Give her a slice of my rhubarb crumble too,’ to Ronan’s sagging shoulders.
> ‘Sit down, please.’ She indicated a button-backed chair. ‘And tell me how you think I can help, Louisa?’
‘Call me Lulu, everyone does.’ I decided I liked this woman. ‘It seems that your dog has become rather fond of Ronan, and keeps turning up at his door at all hours, and he’s asked me if I can find out why.’ I wasn’t sure if she’d take to the idea of an animal behaviourist, so I was treading carefully. ‘I hope you don’t mind me calling to see you?’ I asked. ‘I’m just keen to find out as much as I can about the dog and his environment.’
‘Not at all.’ She looked perfectly at ease. ‘So, have you any ideas?’
‘Not yet, no,’ I told her truthfully. ‘Have you noticed any changes in his behaviour lately?’
‘Can’t say I have. He’s always been very fond of Ronan, and no wonder. He’s a lovely man, even if I say so myself.’
I nodded agreement. ‘Can you tell me when it first started – what I mean is, when Deputy first wanted to be with him all the time, started going to his house on his own, that sort of thing?’
‘Oh, it’s not all the time, he just likes to visit him sometimes, in the evenings, mostly,’ Myrtle told me.
‘I see. And have you any idea why?’
‘I think he just likes to wander off on his own, or perhaps he gets a treat,’ she suggested.
‘No. That was the first thing I asked. Ronan simply brings him back here.’ I was puzzled.
‘Well, it does get him out of the house and gives him some exercise.’
‘Ronan or Deputy?’ I grinned.
‘Ronan, but both, now that you mention it.’ She had a tinkly laugh. ‘Although Deputy gets plenty. I bring him for a good walk twice a day.’
‘There must be some reason,’ I said, more to myself than to her.
‘It’s a mystery,’ she announced, and yet again I sensed that one of my clients knew more than they were letting on, although in this case Myrtle wasn’t my client and was simply being co-operative. I wondered if she was lonely, a thought I’d had previously.
‘Does it bother you at all?’ I asked. ‘Not knowing where he is half the time?’ Most old people adored their pets and worried about them as they would babies.
‘No.’ She ditched that solution for me. ‘I’m always so busy, you see. I swim, I play bridge, I’m in the ladies club and the local St Vincent de Paul. Half the time I feel guilty for not paying enough attention to Deputy. But he’s great company late at night. Sits at my feet while I’m on the internet, which is a lot of the time. Chatting to people, making new friends.’
‘In your bridge club?’
‘No, no. Bridge players are mostly quite old and serious.’ She giggled again.
‘Not Rachel, though?’
‘Definitely not Rachel,’ she agreed. ‘Actually, I spend time in chatrooms mostly.’
‘Chatrooms?’
‘Yes, and I meet lots of gorgeous young women there, all looking for love.’
My seriously muddled brain suddenly found me imagining I had a gay granny to add to my troubles.
13
‘EXCUSE ME?’ I SAID EVENTUALLY, SURE I MUST HAVE MISHEARD.
‘I’ll tell you what, why don’t we take Deputy for a stroll and have a nice little chat?’ Myrtle jumped up and picked up her scarf and a lead.
‘But what about Ronan?’
‘Oh, he’ll be fine, don’t worry.’
‘Well, perhaps I’d better tell him, just in case—’ I heard a noise and realized he was coming to investigate anyway.
‘How’s it going?’ He looked at me appealingly.
‘Fine, darling. We’re just off for a little stroll with Deputy.’ Myrtle brushed past him.
‘But what about Rachel?’ he whispered, and he glanced over his shoulder, as if afraid she’d suddenly appear.
‘Take her for a drink or something; she’d love to see a bit of Dalkey. And the Queen’s have a lovely evening menu, by the way,’ Myrtle told him.
‘Gran, I do know the Queen’s very well, I eat there a lot, but I don’t know this woman.’ He sounded exasperated. ‘And I’ve already plied her with more sugar than she’s had this year, I imagine, and we’ve dissected the economy, agonized about the weather and predicted the budget.’ He seemed about to say more but bit his lip.
‘Perhaps she could come with us?’ I suggested, wanting to help, as usual.
‘Oh no dear, she’s not the outdoor type,’ Myrtle told me.
‘But you just suggested I take her for a walk.’ Ronan scratched his head.
‘Just an idea.’ Myrtle shrugged.
‘Gran, I actually have to get back to work, I’ve got a job to finish tonight . . .’ He stopped, not wanting to upset her, I figured.
‘Well, don’t worry about me,’ I said, wanting to get him off the hook. ‘My bike’s parked up the road and, anyway, it was really your gran and Deputy I came to see. I’ll call you.’ I mentally shooed him away, sensing his awkwardness.
‘Are you sure?’ He was practically at his office as he spoke.
‘Certain.’ I grinned at his back.
‘Well, in that case, I’ll see if Rachel would like to stay and check in online.’ Myrtle seemed resigned as she headed for the kitchen.
I put on my coat, and Deputy came bounding in, having heard the lead jangling, I suspected.
‘Rachel’s decided to head on back into town.’ Myrtle seemed disappointed when she put her head around the door, and I wondered again if she wanted company. ‘I’ll just see her out and then we’ll be off.’ She disappeared.
Five minutes later, we were heading towards the harbour. Thankfully, I’d worn flat shoes and a warm jacket. No black suits and definitely no high heels on a bike, so I was well set up for a walk.
‘Did you say you’d come all this way on a pushbike?’ Myrtle asked.
‘Motorbike,’ I told her and she looked so thrilled at the idea I ended up promising to take her for a spin some time.
‘Well, Myrtle, I don’t mind admitting I’ve no leads on this case,’ I said eventually. We’d laughed and talked and I’d told her about my life change by this stage, and I felt like we were old friends. ‘Not great for my new career, eh?’ I joked. ‘I won’t be getting many recommendations at this rate.’
She looked worried. ‘I’ll mention you to all my friends,’ she said earnestly.
‘Thanks.’ I was touched.
‘Lulu, can you keep a secret?’ Myrtle blurted out. ‘I really need to know I can trust you.’
‘Of course,’ I told her. She looked older and a little bit frail, and for a split second I was worried for her.
‘It’s just that . . .’ She stopped. ‘I haven’t been entirely honest with you.’
‘About what?’ I was confused.
‘I’m the one sending Deputy around to Ronan.’
‘But why?’
‘To get him to call around to my house,’ she said, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
So she was lonely after all. ‘Myrtle, have you time for a coffee?’ I’d spotted a cosy little café up a sidestreet we’d just passed and I sensed she might need a moment.
‘I’d like that,’ she said quietly. ‘And Mrs Nolan back there stays open late and she makes fresh jam doughnuts every day.’
‘Perfect.’ I smiled and we headed back the way we’d come. I wondered how I’d handle this one.
‘How much do you know about my grandson?’ she asked, when we were installed in a corner of the tea rooms beside a wood-burning stove with a huge pot of tea and a basket of warm, sugary doughnuts that might as well have had ‘comfort’ tattooed in jam on the top of them. They smelled divine.
‘Not a lot.’ I smiled as I bit into a little piece of heaven, and wiped the sugar from my nose. ‘Just what he said about his dad and wanting to be a vet but ending up looking after the family business.’
‘Yes, that was unfortunate. He takes on so much responsibility; he’s always been an old head on young shoulders really. And these p
ast few years he’s gone into himself more and more. Sometimes it worries me.’
I waited, as I usually did when I sensed someone struggling with uncomfortable thoughts. ‘Did he mention his wife?’
‘No.’
‘He doesn’t, generally. I’m just hoping that someday he’ll talk about it to someone, and I thought with you being a stranger . . .’ She sighed. ‘He’s had such a lot to deal with. I just wanted to help him.’ She looked at me sadly. ‘Audrey was killed in a car accident. And when I tell you that she was his whole life, his universe, it doesn’t even come close to letting you know what they had together. It was the happiest day of my life when they got married. I just knew it was a match made in heaven.’ I could tell Myrtle was still deeply troubled by it. ‘Unfortunately, that’s where she is now.’
‘When did she die?’
‘Nearly two years ago. He’s never gotten over it, and he never will, I fear.’ There were tears in her eyes now. ‘Please, you have to promise me you won’t let on. He’d never forgive me.’
‘I promise.’ I tried to reassure her. ‘My whole working life’s been spent keeping other people’s secrets.’
‘Thank you,’ she said simply and sipped her tea. ‘It’s been a terrible time for us as a family. He’s been only half alive ever since, and I see the constant pain in his eyes. But in the past three months, I’ve seen a slight change, a tiny reason to hope he might get through it.’ She looked sad. ‘He puts up a front, you see. He’s good, too. And he works like a black, which helps him forget.’ It was so un-PC that I’d have laughed any other time.
‘Sorry, I’m not allowed to say that, am I? Although I heard on the net the other night that the new expression is “works like a Barack”.’ She looked like a bold child. ‘Anyway, I’ve been sending the dog to his house so that he’d have to bring him back. And I’ve been searching for a new girlfriend for him on the internet, which is why there’s always someone there when he calls. It’s how I’ve been setting up the meetings.’
‘So Rachel just now . . . she was a potential partner?’
‘Yes, but so far he hasn’t shown any interest in any of them. And there’ve been quite a few. And now he’s brought you in to solve the problem so I suppose I’ll have to stop.’
