by Faith Hogan
‘When you were in hospital, I was here, cleaning out this chimney, two men came into the bar. There was something about them, I’m not even sure if I could properly recognise them again, but they were shifty, as if they were sizing the place up.’
‘Oh, God.’ Jane whispered.
‘No, don’t worry. They assumed I was the owner, that I was going to be here all the time, I saw them out the front door and I had no fears that they’d be back to take me on.’
‘Well, that’s something, I’m glad you were here.’ She said relaxing a little at the idea that any danger might have been put off.
‘But the thing is, they were foreign, I think they said they were South American…’
‘Colombian?’ Jane echoed and they looked at each other long and hard, unsure if that made things better or worse for Carrie. Instead of saying anything, they sat, listening to the rain on the windows, the wind whistling all the way down those tall chimneys.
‘Do you know, Jane,’ Luke said, yawning, ‘I wouldn’t half mind taking you up on that offer of a room tonight.’
‘Really?’ Jane’s voice sounded pleased and her expression gave away the flooding relief washing across her. ‘Well, take your pick and we’ll make one up for you, right after I call the police station.’ Then she got up and moved to the back of the bar. Thoughtfully, she took the phone from its cradle and stood at the counter before meeting his eyes. ‘I know it’s late, but I think the sooner I tell the police what I saw the better.’ She smiled. ‘It’ll be lovely to have a bit of company about the place,’ she said softly as she watched the last sparks from the day’s embers race up towards the blasting cold of the night sky.
*
At four o’clock, something woke Kevin. He lay in bed for a while, the darkness soothing, putting off getting up to see if Valentina was about. The bed was icy, for the first year in as many as he could remember, November came in freezing and already it looked as if December could be the whitest in years.
When he stood, Kevin felt the effects of his earlier can of beer and the pints with Jim. Carrie once joked that he was a cheap date and she was right. Two pints was his limit, he should have known better. He walked about the apartment in darkness. No sign of Valentina. He turned on the light in the living room and sat for a moment on a high stool he pulled from beneath the kitchen island. Tonight, catching up with the British soaps and some old American sitcoms, was the first time he’d really relaxed here since they moved in. Why was that? Perhaps it was just settling in, getting used to sharing his home with someone new. Maybe, in five years’ time, things between himself and Valentina would be as easy as they were with Carrie.
He scratched his head, an odd buzzing feeling racing through his thoughts. He might as well be honest; he and Valentina would never be the same as it was with Carrie. He’d known that from the start. He believed it was because she was somehow better than Carrie. She was younger, beautiful and exotic – he believed all of these things added up in some way to make him a better man. Better? He qualified the word in his mind. What did better actually mean to him. Richer? More successful? Respected in some macho way? Yes, maybe all of those things, but really, he could call it here, on his own in the middle of the night, he could put a name on why he left Carrie for Valentina, couldn’t he? He wanted to feel he had something that was way beyond what everyone else had. He wanted Jim and all those other blokes who discounted what he’d done with The Sea Pear by giving the credit to Carrie to see he was better than them. He was better than any of them, because he could have a younger, sexier woman on his arm and he didn’t need Carrie to make him into the man he had become. The thing was, in the silence of the apartment, with his head throbbing, he wasn’t so sure about any of it anymore.
Fifteen
It seemed everyone was relieved to get back to normal except Carrie. One of the newspapers even rang to ask when The Sea Pear would open again after the burglary. Kevin greeted the news that the forensic team had finished up with great enthusiasm. They agreed to meet on Finch Street early in the morning to assess how much would need to be done before the restaurant could open to customers. Certainly, the dining room would need some sorting out and Carrie knew that the kitchen was a mess too. It seemed that The Sea Pear had lost its magic for her and Carrie wasn’t sure if she could wholly blame the break-in for this. Rather, it was a heavy feeling that greeted her as she walked through the front door, as if there was deadness about the place that would drain the life from her if she stayed here much longer. Suddenly, she knew, she was ready to leave it all to Kevin and Valentina – they were more than welcome to it. She tried to shake off that heavy feeling as much as possible and got on with sorting out the dining room.
The post arrived at eleven, and when she looked about, she reckoned she deserved a coffee break. Rather than going back into the kitchen to sit with Kevin, she decided she’d head out to one of those fancy coffee shops along the canal, where the music played loud and everyone was too busy studying their iPad to notice very much else. She brought the post with her to salve her conscience at leaving Kevin behind in the kitchen.
Once she was out in the fresh air, Carrie was relieved to feel her spirits lift. It could be a spring day, so dry and crisp, with the icy sunlight peeping through the clouds occasionally. She picked a table outside, it suited Teddy best, and anyway, it was a nice day and there was a huge heater blasting out warm air just next to her. A lovely young girl brought her a giant cup of coffee that she knew she’d never get to the end of.
The post was mainly junk and bills, but bottom of the pile, the bank statements for The Sea Pear were in for November. She scanned them quickly; really, unless she had the notebook she wrote up all the lodgements in, they meant very little, other than she had a feeling that takings looked as though they were down quite a bit on other years. Then again, most of the other restaurateurs were complaining that the Christmas season seemed to start later and later each year, so perhaps that was it. She put the pages down on the table, her eyes drawn towards the canal. It was lovely to sit here, with the buzz of people coming and going and be, for once, just another customer with no agenda other than drinking coffee and watching the world go by.
Carrie glanced at the statements again, there was something wrong. She ran her finger along the line of numbers, searching for one particular lodgement. She remembered the night quite clearly, they had a party from a golf club that had stayed late and tipped miserably, but they spent cash, and the takings were far greater than any of the lodgements listed. Perhaps there was some mistake?
Now, as she stared at the statement, it seemed all the figures were deflated, they were all much lower than she remembered cashing up. If anything, the figures here were roughly the amounts they took in from credit and debit cards. Totting up the differences as far as she could in her head, she calculated there was at least ten thousand euros missing.
Carrie sat until her enormous cup of coffee had grown a thin dark skin across its top. A sense of terrible dread had taken over from the lovely light feeling she had when she sat here first. Someone was pilfering the cash amounts from the lodgements and there were only three people who had the means to do that. Two of them had nothing to gain, not really, but the third…
Oh, God, she wasn’t sure which was worse, the idea that Valentina might have stolen from them, or the notion that she couldn’t leave The Sea Pear now, not until this was sorted out. Suddenly, the idea of leaving Kevin, much as she might want to put him behind her and move on – well it seemed like desertion. Kevin was a lamb to the slaughter, Valentina would clean him out and walk away – perhaps she’d already cleaned them out. God, she could pull their whole business apart and leave them with nothing after all their years of hard work. That thought sent a rattling fear right through Carrie and, suddenly, she wasn’t sure what to do about any of this mess.
*
‘You’ll have to tell Kevin,’ Anna said when they met up later that day at her flat, Teddy was glad of the walk
and it felt as if he was leading the way for most of the journey. Carrie had to tell someone and Anna was her best bet. ‘And the police, this isn’t just about a lovers’ tiff or sour grapes.’ Anna was as shocked as Carrie. ‘I mean, there’s a difference of thousands of euros, Carrie… thousands,’ she shook her head.
‘I don’t know if he’ll even believe me, Anna. After all, I was the one sorting out all the bank stuff between us.’
‘Seriously, Carrie, you’re as honest as St Patrick, he’d never think you would do something like this.’
‘Maybe, but he’s head over heel in love with Valentina, I’ve never seen anyone so totally smitten, I have a feeling she could convince him night is day.’
‘Then it’s time for him to see her for what she really is, isn’t it?’
‘This is going to break his heart.’ Carrie looked across at her friend who was staring at her blankly. How could she explain that even if she didn’t love Kevin anymore and although he’d treated her miserably, she couldn’t bear the idea of him being so badly let down. ‘And it’s not just that, Anna, it’s been going on for months. I mean, it looks like as soon as Valentina could get her hands on the lodgement bag she had started to empty out the cash.’ Apart from being angry and upset, Carrie couldn’t help feeling sorry for Kevin. ‘So much for true love, eh?’
‘Well, it’s all there in black and white,’ Anna said and there was no nastiness in her voice. Poor Kevin, he had been taken for a prize mug and whatever about all the money they’d lost, this would truly devastate him. ‘I can see, it’s not going to be easy.’
‘I know, I’m not sure I’m even up to having the conversation with him yet,’ Carrie said.
‘But you have to, you can’t let her just keep on emptying your pockets like that.’
‘Oh, Anna, I’ve no intention of letting her touch another penny. She won’t get near the cash register or the tips jar.’ Stealing from the tips jar was probably the lowest thing Valentina could have done. ‘I’ll be doing the lodgements from now on and I’ll be taking everything to the accountant before I speak to Kevin.’ The truth was, he seemed to be so under Valentina’s spell, Carrie wasn’t sure she could convince him that this was real anyway.
‘Well, you know best, but be careful. You’ve worked really hard to build up The Sea Pear, I couldn’t bear it if it was all ruined because of that thieving cow.’ Anna hadn’t been much help in the way of advice, but still it was good to be able to tell someone and it wasn’t the kind of conversation she could really have with anyone else. After all, it was bad enough to be thrown over for a younger woman, but to be thrown over for someone like Valentina? ‘Make the call now, set up a time to see the accountant, I’ll come along too if you’d like, but you have to get moving on this today.’
‘Ah, you’re very good, Anna, but no, I need to do this on my own,’ Carrie said firmly.
She made an appointment to visit the accountant and ignored the text on her phone from Luke. They had something to tell her. Could she call to see Jane later? It could be urgent, it was hard to tell either way from the text. Well, she’d try, but by the time she’d finished with the accountant and made it back to The Sea Pear, she had a feeling that she’d be far too wiped out to be much in the way of company. Eventually she texted him back to say she couldn’t make it this evening, but hopefully tomorrow she would pop across to The Marchant Inn.
*
Luke finally managed to track down a matron before he left his father for the night. The truth was, his father had never looked so unwell. This was more than a chest infection. For the first time in weeks, Luke looked at his dad and he realised he was a very sick man and he needed to be seen by a proper doctor, one who could clear up whatever had rattled the life out of him so quickly.
‘Ah, Mr Gibson, it’s nice to meet you at last.’ The matron was a middle-aged, stout woman who peered at him over glasses that were too trendy to look good on anyone over seventeen. ‘I had been hoping you’d call to see us one of the days, your father is being… well, you know him better than we do, I suppose…’
‘I should hope so. What’s he being, exactly?’ he asked. He had searched this woman out to find out why his father was still using an oxygen mask; he had a feeling that wasn’t why she wanted to talk to him though.
‘Well, he doesn’t listen, we are only trying to help, but…’ she shook her head.
‘Oh?’ There was no doubt, his father had lived an interesting life, perhaps they were not used to men who had a taste for more than meat, two veg and an occasional bottle of stout, he thought. ‘He certainly knows his own mind, if that’s what you mean.’
‘He does that.’ She pinned on a smile that didn’t stretch far enough to be warm. ‘For now.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Luke asked.
‘Well, the drugs, they take the pain away, but they will make him tired, disoriented, you know, eventually,’ her voice softened, ‘they break everything down.’
‘What drugs?’
‘The morphine. Of course, he needs it more now, surely you’ve noticed that he’s weaker, he’s fading very quickly, I’m afraid.’ Her words tapered off to a quiet end, perhaps she realised that he hadn’t known. ‘I’m sorry, sometimes, being here, surrounded by… well, you know, we’re under fierce pressure and it can make us a little too business-like.’
‘Morphine…’ Luke echoed the word, it felt like he’d been torpedoed off course, suddenly, it all made appalling sense. ‘He’s dying?’ he managed to whisper then.
‘Yes.’ The matron was nodding at him, realising now just how badly she had put her foot in it and, worse, that she’d broken confidentiality without realising it. ‘I’m so sorry, I thought you knew.’
‘My father is dying?’ His words echoed, but they were too far-off to get a proper grip on their meaning.
‘Let’s not talk about that now,’ the woman said, taking his elbow and leading him into what he supposed was a staff kitchen. ‘Let’s just get our heads around how we can help him for now. Okay.’
Luke stayed at Ballyglen that night, but he was completely dazed. It was as if he’d walked into a different room and the door to the life he’d known before had been firmly closed behind him. Now, whatever intention he’d had of calling Carrie, to make sure she was all right drifted from him. He meant to ask her for coffee, now it seemed like such a useless thing to fret over. In the greater scheme of things, she was probably up to her eyes in all sorts of things, from insurance to dealing with the police. Although a small part of him wondered if she wasn’t just a little bit distant because of something he’d said or done wrong without realising it. He had to face it, she was probably still getting over Kevin Mulvey. Some random man she met for dinner wasn’t really going to mean a lot to her in the face of everything else she had going on in her life now. It was only as he was drifting off to sleep in an uncomfortable chair at the end of his father’s room that he began to wonder about why his father had chosen to come here to die. In his heart, he knew there must be a reason.
*
‘So, you’re going to the wedding?’ Kevin felt like someone had pulled the air from the room for a moment. These last few days, since the break-in, Carrie was more distracted than he’d ever known her to be before. She was almost icy with him and beyond reserved with Valentina, although she managed to cover it over so no one but Kevin would notice. It was a strange thing, but now Kevin found himself forcing lightness between them when they were together. It seemed their roles had reversed and he needed to jolly her along in case some fine line would be crossed and she might just tell him exactly what was annoying her.
‘Of course I’m going, Kevin. Don’t be daft. I’m the maid of honour; I kind of need to be there.’ Carrie rolled her eyes in a way she never used to; now she made him feel like she could see just how pathetic he was. ‘Are you going?’ she asked and there was a strange wistfulness to her voice, as though she half wished he would say no.
‘Yeah, well, Valentina
is looking forward to staying in a castle, so…’ They both knew weddings were not his thing. He was roped into being best man because he was the only one of their friends who’d never been asked and, when it had been arranged, it worked well with Carrie being matron of honour.
‘Oh, so you managed to get a room?’ She was searching in the shelves beneath the narrow maître d’ counter, but she looked at him now, interested for just a moment. ‘In the castle?’
‘I, well, no. I just assumed that…’
‘That what?’ She stood up now to her full height of less than five foot three and looked him in the eye, even though he had a good eight inches on her. ‘Oh,’ she smiled. ‘I see, you thought that you and Valentina would stay in the room I booked, was that it?’
‘Well, I just thought, that, maybe…’ Kevin’s voice petered off.
‘Sorry, Kevin, but I’m going. As it turns out, I’m really looking forward to it. It’s one of the best rooms in the castle, with a view of the lake, a double bathroom and sitting room. Actually, they’ve thrown in a third night for fifty quid, so I’m staying on an extra night.’ She winked at him, there were no hard feelings, she had made the booking, paid for the room, it was hers to enjoy.
‘No. No. Of course you must stay there, I’ll book something else.’
‘Will you?’ She looked at him quizzically and he wasn’t sure why. Then he realised, he’d never booked a holiday away for them, that had always been her territory, not that they’d gone away too often. Then she smiled, ‘Maybe you’ll be lucky and pick up a cancellation, fingers crossed, eh?’
‘Yeah, fingers crossed.’ He meant it. He really didn’t fancy telling Valentina she’d be staying in some dive while everyone else lived it up in the lap of luxury. Why on earth hadn’t he sorted this out sooner – it wasn’t as if he hadn’t realised that it would be impossible to get accommodation at this late stage. Valentina. She had been in foul form since the burglary. It was as if she’d taken it all personally and could hardly look at Kevin these days without biting his nose off. ‘I suppose I better get onto it.’ He backed away from Carrie, but by the time he’d made it to the kitchen she was humming some tune under her breath that made him think of years earlier when she did that all the time. They were happy then – was she happy now?
