What Happened to Us?

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What Happened to Us? Page 20

by Faith Hogan


  She spotted the wine cabinet first. Funny, she thought. She carried on past the maelstrom of linens and aprons, discarded as though scrambled by a child at play, and the overturned glasses and a chair smashed against the wall. But it was the wine rack that woke her from her daydream. Every expensive bottle that Andrew had stored only days earlier was gone. They’d broken the lock, an antique flimsy set-up that was more for display than any security reasons. Carrie stood for a moment, trying to figure out what she was looking at, then standing back from it, she took in the whole scene. Her beautiful dining room ransacked, it was thoroughly gone through, pulled apart and for what?

  As she stood there, a slight shiver beginning to take over her body, she knew, the only thing of real value missing was that expensive wine. They never left the takings here overnight and, these days most of their business was transacted through cards anyway. She felt herself backing away from the wine cabinet, moving as if propelled by something other than her own will. Fear dug deep into her bones, what if they were still here? Whoever did this, what if they were lurking, somewhere in the kitchen or in her office? She still could not move any faster but found herself suddenly at the front door. The police. She had to call someone.

  She looked across at The Marchant Inn. She wanted to run there, perhaps Luke would be there, to make her feel what? Safe? It wasn’t a feeling she’d ever had with anyone before; she shook the thought from her mind. She stood for a moment, stupidly on the pavement outside The Sea Pear, Teddy at her side, trying to figure it all out. Then the most outrageous notion floated into her panicked mind, Kevin Mulvey, had never made her feel safe. Not ever.

  She had her phone in her pocket. It was all she brought with her. The keys were still inside and she wasn’t sure if she’d locked the door or not, but she couldn’t think about that now. ‘Yes. Hello. Is that the police?’ She waited until they put her through. ‘Hello. I want to report a break in.’ Her words had a remote quality to them as though someone else was speaking. Carrie rattled off the details in the same monotone voice and waited for two young police officers to arrive. It was the police who called Kevin. She had locked the keys inside, senselessly, blindly panicked, and when they went to look for the spare, it was no longer where they’d always left it.

  ‘Well, we know how they got in anyhow,’ the older officer said, but if he thought they deserved to be broken into for being irresponsible enough to leave a key outside the back door, he managed to remain kind and considerate to Carrie.

  ‘I’d forgotten it was even there,’ Kevin said, looking at Carrie, but then she’d always taken care of keys and alarms and all that side of things. Today, in the midst of all this, Carrie could see how much he had aged. Had that only happened in the last few weeks? Or had they both been getting gradually older without noticing? ‘Anyway, I have my keys here now, so…’

  The younger officer took the keys from him. ‘Better if we just stay here, for now.’ He looked at Carrie. ‘They’ll send out a team to dust for prints and see what else they can find.’ He smiled at her, perhaps hoping to calm her a little. Carrie wasn’t sure how long they waited for the forensics team to arrive. Then, gingerly, it seemed to Carrie, they entered The Sea Pear and sat at the window table, answering what sounded like the same questions a thousand times over.

  ‘The only thing of any value really was the wine.’ Carrie looked at Kevin. They’d allowed him to walk through to the kitchen, but apart from leaving the cold store open and causing a lot of food wastage, really there wasn’t a lot to take aside from pots, pans and kitchen knives.

  ‘The wine was really expensive, do you have many people who pay that much for a bottle of wine,’ a stony-faced detective asked her later. He introduced himself as Coleman and it was hard to say if it was a first name or surname.

  ‘No. That’s the thing. We, I mean, I ordered the wine by mistake. Normally, our house wine, well, it’s decent but nowhere near the same value. I was hoping to swap them and I managed to get most of them returned the same day, but we were stuck with the box that had been opened. I thought the worst thing that could happen was it would age in the wine rack – you know, maybe even appreciate,’ her laugh was high-pitched and nervous, but the fear of earlier was slowly beginning to subside.

  ‘You’re in shock,’ Kevin said and he put his arm around her a little self-consciously. It felt wrong to Carrie, so she shrugged him away. ‘Will I get you something, tea, brandy, I’m sure something warm might settle your nerves.’

  ‘No. I’m fine,’ she said, her eyes taking in the street outside. ‘The thing is, not many people would have known about the mistake in the wine order.’ She felt empty and low saying it.

  ‘Can you tell us who would have known?’ the detective didn’t take his eyes off his notebook.

  ‘Well, there was me and Kevin, Valentina, the guy who delivered the order and a girl, Sheila, I rang in the accounts department who helped me sort out the order so we didn’t have to keep it all. And of course, Andrew.’

  ‘Who’s Andrew?’ the detective looked up from his notebook.

  ‘Andrew is our head waiter… he’s a bit…’ Kevin said.

  ‘He’s lovely,’ Carrie cut in. ‘He’s as honest as you’ll meet and he’s been here for as long as we have almost. Kevin doesn’t like him because he’s gay,’ Carrie said bluntly and watched as the detective raised an eyebrow, perhaps sensing the tension between them.

  ‘Well, I’ll need to talk to him anyway, and if you could get me contact details for the suppliers?’

  ‘Of course. I’m as sure of Andrew as I am of myself, Detective,’ Carrie said firmly.

  None of them said it, but she knew, they were all thinking – inside job, for sure.

  ‘Well, we have to do our job. I’ll be talking to everyone here, not just this Andrew bloke,’ he said, looking at Kevin. ‘When are the others due to come to work today?’

  ‘Here.’ Carrie handed him the roster.

  ‘You can’t open tonight, but we’ll get out of your hair as quickly as we can. For now, I’d like you not to contact anyone on this list, just let them come in as usual and we’ll question them here. Is that understood?’ he looked again at Kevin, as if sensing something was amiss. Although, for the life of her, Carrie couldn’t fathom what Kevin might have to hide. She knew, that there was as much chance of Kevin having pulled the place apart as there was of her, probably less, because he lacked any real imagination and he hardly had the courage to face his mother, never mind take a chance on prison.

  *

  ‘Unbelievable, mate, un-bloody-believable.’ Jim had the decency to stretch out the last word, maybe he was as shocked as Kevin was. Kevin hoped he had managed to hide it from Carrie. He’d never seen her so vulnerable. It was like he was seeing a side to her he’d never seen before. A side that made him want to reach out and take care of her. Funny, but for those few hours, it felt like everything they knew about each other had been turned on its head. He felt, for the first time in his life, like the strong one. Like the kind of man you could depend on. Like the kind of man he always thought his father was, until he found out about Thelma.

  ‘Well, that was my day,’ Kevin said, sipping his second pint of the evening, feeling it going to his head a little too much, but knowing it was probably just the shock of the burglary settling on him. ‘It looks like whoever did it knew the lie of the land. They knew that we kept a spare key in the side alley. They knew that the wine was expensive and worth taking and any other damage that was done was only to mess things up.’ Kevin shook his head, it all added up to something that made him very uneasy. He knew that the feeling in the pit of his stomach had more to do with what he hadn’t said than the clear hard facts of the day gone by. It had to do with Simo and Reda – rubbing their hands together to tell him he needed security now – and it had to with the notion that his restaurant had been broken into by someone who knew they had a delivery of very expensive wine.

  ‘How’s Carrie, must be a nasty shock, ar
riving in to that.’

  Jim had texted Sandra as soon as he heard, doubtless there’d be a gang of women calling to make sure Carrie was all right now. Still it felt wrong, just letting her drive off home without him. Kevin had stood outside The Sea Pear for a moment, watching her car disappearing into the evening traffic. Funny, but a few weeks ago, she would have been okay and he wouldn’t have thought to ask. Now, today, she seemed smaller, more delicate than he remembered. Perhaps she had lost weight, or maybe it was just that he hadn’t seen her without her work clothes and make-up on for so many weeks. She seemed to be younger, fragile, perhaps more feminine… there was definitely something changed about her. He mentioned it to Jim.

  ‘It’s this new bloke. Maybe he’s doing things differently, Kevin.’

  ‘Ha ha, Jim, you’re quite the comedian.’ But somehow, Kevin felt it was all wrong.

  ‘Maybe she’s just happy,’ Jim said, nodding at the barman. ‘Apart from today obviously.’

  ‘Maybe she is,’ Kevin said and for some reason he thought back to the conversation he had with Penny, about his parents and Thelma Jones. He had a feeling Penny told him that for a reason, but he was damned if he could fathom it.

  *

  ‘So, all of her fancy wines have been stolen. Eetees the good job for her. Thees would not have happened if she didn’t get these pricey theengs.’ Valentina was painting her toenails, holding a file between her teeth, elongating her e’s now so they had become irritating to Kevin’s ears. ‘I said it so many times, Simo and Reda, they would have made sure no one came near The Sea Pear.’

  ‘You know, it’s not just my decision. I think Carrie told you too.’ He was cooking an omelette for them. There really was nothing else in the kitchen and there was no going back into The Sea Pear until the following day.

  ‘We should go out,’ Valentina said. ‘Other people go out all the time and here we are cooking eggs, poof. In Colombia, eggs are poor people food, Keveen.’ A smear of red varnish burnt across the leather sofa and Kevin dived for it with a cloth as though putting out a fire. ‘Keveen, you have to start taking me to nice places, other couples, they go dancing and drinking. You. You meet some old guy in a pub every other evening. And, me, where do I go? Why do I even make an effort? For The Sea Pear?’

  ‘Oh, Valentina, I’m not in the mood to go out tonight. Don’t you see, it’s been a horrible day?’ Kevin tossed the omelette without really thinking and pulled cutlery from the drawer. It was so tempting to argue with her. How could she know what his day was like? She hadn’t spent the day with a detective that looked like he ate flint for breakfast. She hadn’t been the one to walk into The Sea Pear and find a life’s work trampled on. She wasn’t thinking that someone who knew them had broken in to their restaurant and robbed them.

  ‘Oh, poor Keveen.’ Her voice dripped with disdain. ‘But what about me? I have been cooped up here all day.

  ‘I’m sorry if your day was crappy too, Valentina. Maybe we could just eat our dinner and chill in front of the TV.’ He’d like that. He’d like to sit in front of something comforting and familiar, maybe the soaps, and just lose himself for a few hours, especially if he had the sofa to himself. No Simo and Reda were like balm on his rattled nerves. ‘Come on, we can open a nice bottle of wine and just relax.’

  ‘Oh, Keveen, you are so boring. I never thought it would be like thees, I thought it would be…’ She tossed her lovely long dark hair over her shoulder. ‘I thought eet would be fun. That we would have more than just work and fried eggs.’

  Her eyes darkened, but Kevin wasn’t expecting the wrath of temper that bayed behind them. She looked about her frantically and then pitched the bottle she held in her hand with venom. The nail varnish scudded towards him, narrowly missing his head. He bent to pick it up, but it had shattered into dark red pieces across the beautiful marble floor.

  ‘I am going out. You can stay here and seet like an old man with your television all night.’ She grabbed her leather jacket off the chair and headed for the door, but Kevin didn’t look up. He was too busy trying to clean the nail varnish off the floor. Maybe it was the two pints with Jim or the stress of the day, but the fact that she’d aimed it at his head when she threw it didn’t really dawn on him until much, much later. And even then, it occurred to him he had been lucky, because at least it was just a tiny bottle. He suspected that if she’d had a wine bottle in her hand, she could just as easily have thrown that too, and it probably wouldn’t have missed the target. Perhaps he could convince himself that was the price of passion.

  *

  Luke had been trying to ring Carrie all day. He had to thank her for dinner in Hoffa’s, for a start, but there was something else too. He needed to talk to her, to somehow set things straight between them. He shouldn’t have kissed her last night; it was a crass and stupid thing to do. After all, she was still getting her head straight after Kevin, she’d told him so herself. Still, their friendship meant a lot to him, more than he’d realised before. When she didn’t answer, he immediately thought he’d messed things up.

  ‘Hey,’ he was relieved when he finally got through. ‘I thought you were avoiding me,’ it was better to make a joke of things. ‘I’ve been trying to call you all day…’

  ‘Sorry, it’s been a bit mad here.’

  ‘Oh, well, I’ve only been ringing to say thanks…’ he stopped, registering the distance in her voice. ‘Is everything all right?’

  ‘Yes, of course, well… we’ve had a break-in. I thought you might have seen all the activity here… it’s been policemen and technical detectives all afternoon.’ She laughed, a high-pitched nervous sound, very much out of character for her.

  ‘Shall I come round? Is there anything I can do…? I mean, you’re not on your own there, trying to cope with all of this, are you?’

  ‘Ah, that’s very nice of you, but no need. I’m off home for a long soak and a bit of spoiling… my mother is coming over to tuck me in for the night and settle my nerves,’ she said this ruefully and Luke had a feeling that it could be a late night.

  ‘Well, the offer stands. Does Jane know?’

  ‘She couldn’t not,’ Carrie sighed. ‘It might be good if you had the time to go and visit her for the evening, I’d say whatever state her nerves are normally in, they’ll be well shot after seeing today’s spectacle of police cars.’

  ‘I’ll do that,’ Luke said softly. Of course, it was typical Carrie, thinking of the effect all of this could have on Jane. Luke thought she sounded weary. He should have checked if he could call round for coffee or asked her out tomorrow, just to take her mind off things, as a sort of payback for the superb dinner.

  Jane quickly turned his thoughts on other things. The lonesomeness of the bar stretched out to him when he pushed open the door. She was sitting before a fading fire, the lights low and the silence of the deserted bar ringing loud in contrast to what this place might have once been. He sat next to her, filling time easily that might otherwise pass unnoticed.

  ‘Brandy?’ she moved towards the back of the bar and took down two glasses and the large bottle that stood ready. It didn’t take long for her to tell him of her restless night and the activity at the restaurant across the road. The whole thing had taken far too much out of her and it lingered between them that she feared The Marchant Inn could be next.

  The brandy was steadying, an indulgent welcome that passed through him and made him feel warmed right into his bones. They sipped slowly. Outside, a gusty wind played through Dublin’s cobbled lanes; intermittently it rapped against the windows along Finch Street before running on to bother someone else.

  ‘You know you’ll have to tell Carrie,’ Luke said gently. The fire was almost out, but there was a gentle glowing heat and he was reluctant to build it up again at this late stage. The hours had melted into each other easily. When the darkness of night drew in, Jane locked up the front door and told Luke about the previous evening.

  ‘I’m not even sure that I saw anything. It
feels like it was a dream now.’ Jane shook her head. How could she have been so stupid not to realise that those two men were actually robbing Carrie’s business blind. ‘And it’s not like I can even give a decent description of them.’

  ‘And that’s okay, but you’ll surely be able to help in some small way. I mean, that’s what the police say all the time, isn’t it? They talk about even the smallest details making all the difference.’

  ‘I suppose I could describe the van, they might pick it up somewhere on street cameras.’ She shook her head. ‘I’ve been watching too many detective programmes, haven’t I?’

  ‘It’s no bad thing, although it might pay not to watch before them bedtime.’ He looked at his watch and began to yawn.

  ‘Here, one more drink before you go back to the B&B, it’ll help us both sleep.’ It was funny, but after all the comings and goings of the day, Jane seemed as if she was wide awake. Although Luke was sure no one would be foolish enough to carry out a robbery in this area for a long time again, what with the place full of policemen all day long. A volley of sparks flew up the chimney then, as a log crackled with a concluding pirouetting flame taking off unexpectedly along its side.

  ‘Oh,’ Luke exclaimed. ‘Those men…’ he shook his head. ‘Those foreign men, I wonder…’ He sat back in his chair, closing his eyes for a moment.

  ‘What? What is it you’re thinking?’ Jane sipped her brandy.

 

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