by Val Collins
‘Maybe not saying anything is the first stage. The next stage might be to not let it bother him.’
‘Do you think?’
‘I really don’t know, Aoife. Ask the counsellor.’
‘We had to stop going. She was so expensive. Maybe when I get another job we can think about having a few more sessions.’
‘And in the meantime Jason lives with you?’
‘I’ll wait until Maura’s feeling better, then I’ll ask him to leave. Him living with us can’t be good for Amy. She was too young to understand when he moved out, but she’ll soon expect to see him in the house every day.’
‘All the more reason to tell Jason his mother needs him and he can’t desert her right now.’
‘He says she has Evan.’
‘If Evan’s like most teenage boys, he won’t be much help.’
‘That’s another problem. I can’t leave Maura to cope with this on her own. If Jason won’t help, I’ll have to.’
‘Can you do that?’ Orla fished under the chair and pulled out her bag. She gathered her long blond hair in one hand and rooted in the bag with the other. She removed a pencil and used it to pin her hair into a loose bun. Every man in the restaurant watched her.
‘I’ll have to. Our relationship can never be what it was, but if the situation was reversed, I know Maura would be the first to offer help.’
‘Well, as your lawyer—okay, I’m not qualified yet, but I’m assuming you’d want your oldest friend to take care of your affairs. So, as a law student and your lawyer to be, I’m advising you to tell Jason you want him out of your house by tomorrow. Letting him live with you is asking for trouble.’
‘It’s not that simp—’
‘It is that simple, Aoife. Either you and Jason are a couple or you’re not. If you’re not, it’s madness letting him live in your house. Getting rid of him will solve your problem with Maura. It’s Jason’s responsibility to give Maura the support she needs, not yours.’
‘I know, but Jason is in no state to help anyone.’
‘Aoife, Maura has five sons. If you don’t step in, someone else will have to fill the gap.’ She paused. ‘Tell me it’s none of my business if you like, but you did sort out your financial affairs with Jason, didn’t you?’
‘Yes. After we separated we went through all the accounts, but there wasn’t much to settle. Jason’s well paid but most of it never reaches his bank account. He came to an agreement with the credit card company, and three quarters of his salary goes straight to them each month.’
Orla picked up her sandwich. ‘You do know it’s not your responsibility to pay off his credit card debts?’
‘It’s a joint responsibility, Orla. We both ran up the debts, and when we separated, Jason paid off my debt so I’d have a credit card to use in an emergency.’
‘How did an accountant ever run up such high debts in the first place?’
‘I’m not sure. I was still trying to cope with Mum and Dad’s death at the time and I wasn’t in any state to worry about our finances. I imagine most of the money went on renovations. Ask anyone who’s ever bought a house, particularly an old one like ours. You wouldn’t believe how quickly the bills mount up.’
‘Well, at least make sure Jason gives you the same amount of money each month whether he’s living with you or not. Otherwise, before you know it—’ A young man tapped Orla’s shoulder and she turned around.
‘Hi.’ The man straightened his tie and grinned. ‘I’m David. You’re a friend of my sister, right?’
Orla flashed him a brilliant smile. ‘No, I think you’ve mixed me up with someone else,’ she said and turned her back on him.
The young man hesitated, then slinked back to a table filled with men in business suits, all of whom were greatly enjoying his humiliation.
‘Men!’ Orla sighed. ‘They don’t give you a minute’s peace.’ Her eyes lit up. ‘Not that I’d want them all to leave me alone. Did I tell you about the guy I met last weekend? Oh, Aoife, he’s so gorgeous. Where’s my phone?’
Aoife glanced at the photos of a guy who could have been a fashion model. Maybe he was. She couldn’t concentrate on Orla’s prattling.
FOUR
The sun streamed through the windscreen for what was probably the first time this year. Any sign of spring normally put Aoife in a great mood, but it wasn’t working for her today. Jason had been living with her and Amy for a full week now, and Aoife suspected he’d had no contact at all with his mother. Anytime she asked how Maura was coping, Jason would mutter ‘fine, fine’ and change the subject. Visiting Maura was the last thing Aoife wanted to do. The previous week had been the first time she’d set foot inside the house in over six months. Jason’s behaviour was forcing her into closer contact with his mother. She was making a real effort not to resent that.
*
‘I wanted to make sure you’re okay. I can go away, if you’d like, Maura.’
‘Of course I don’t want you to go away. Come in, please. Where’s Amy?’
Aoife followed her into the kitchen. ‘Alison next door is looking after her for an hour. She has a five-year-old who loves to play babysitter.’
‘I’m glad you came by. I’m expecting Detective Moloney any minute and I could do with some support.’
‘Maybe it would be better if I came bac—’
The doorbell rang.
Aoife took a few deep breaths, put on the kettle and was taking milk out of the fridge when Maura led Detective Moloney into the kitchen.
‘I believe you know my daughter-in-law.’
‘Indeed. The DCA case, I believe.’
So the steely-eyed stare wasn’t reserved for murder suspects.
‘Tea, Detective?’
‘Thank you, no. Mrs Walsh, I fully understand you weren’t in any condition to be interviewed the last time we spoke. Do you feel up to going through the details now?’
‘I think so.’ Maura pulled out a kitchen chair for him and took the seat opposite. Aoife busied herself making tea.
‘When was the last time you saw your husband?’
‘Saturday around noon. He usually took the boys to his mother’s on Saturday, but that week he went alone.’
‘Why?’
‘The older boys were invited to a party. I said I’d take them. Danny’s mother hadn’t been widowed long and she looked forward to his visits.’
‘How did he get there?’
‘Usually he took the car, but I needed it to get the boys to their party, so he took the train to Dublin and cycled from there.’
‘Where did his mother live?’
‘The Grange Road in Rathfarnham.’
‘What did he do there?’
‘The things his dad took care of when he was alive—gardening, DIY, any heavy lifting. His mother wasn’t fond of driving, so he usually did the weekly supermarket shopping as well. Most weeks he had supper at his mother’s and left shortly afterwards. The police said he left her house around five p.m. that day.’
‘Who was in the house?’
‘You’d have to ask his mother. The youngest, Elaine, was still living at home then, but she was in college and rarely around.’
‘How was he earlier that day? Did he seem upset or stressed?’
‘No. Everything was very normal.’
‘Had you been fighting?’
‘No. Danny was very easy-going. It was almost impossible to fight with him.’
‘Did he have any enemies?’
‘None that I know of.’
‘What did you make of his disappearance?’
‘At first I was worried sick, but once the money arrived, I figured he didn’t want to be found.’
‘And you were okay with that?’
Maura frowned. ‘Of course not. I was devastated and really angry, but I believed he’d chosen to desert us.’
‘Even though there had been no arguments and he had no reason to disappear? It never occurred to you that there might be some other explanat
ion?’
‘Maybe it should have. Poor Danny. He deserved a wife who had more faith in—’ She covered her mouth with her hand.
Aoife picked up the two mugs of tea that were cooling on the countertop. This was none of her business. She placed one of the mugs in front of Maura. Tears were gathering in Maura’s eyes, but Aoife looked away. Maura was not her responsibility. She would wait a few minutes, make an excuse and leave.
‘Detective Moloney.’ Why was she speaking? ‘Men leave their families every day. When Maura received the money, of course she thought her husband had deserted her. Where else could the money have come from?’
‘That’s a very good question.’ The detective turned to Maura. ‘Tell me about the money.’
Maura gripped the mug. ‘Two weeks after Danny disappeared, an envelope arrived. It had a London postmark. There was five hundred inside. The following week eight hundred arrived. The envelopes were erratic at first, but I’ve been getting one every month for the past twelve years.’
‘Were the envelopes addressed by hand?’
‘There were always two envelopes. A small one with cash, inside a larger padded envelope. There was no writing on the smaller envelope. In the early days, the padded envelope was handwritten in capitals. I spent hours examining the writing, but it didn’t bear any resemblance to Danny’s. About ten years ago, the handwriting was replaced with a printed label.’
‘Why didn’t you tell the police about these envelopes?’
‘I did.’
‘Who did you tell?’
‘I forget his name. The detective in charge of the investigation into my husband’s disappearance.’
‘You told him you were receiving envelopes of cash every month? There’s no record of that on the file.’
Maura shrugged. ‘I definitely told him.’
‘When did you receive the latest envelope?’
‘Almost a month ago.’
‘Did you keep it?’
‘No. I threw it away.’
‘How much was in the last envelope?’
‘Four thousand.’
‘In cash?’
‘Yes.’
‘Sterling?’
‘No. Euros.’
‘Why would someone living in England send you cash in euros?’
‘I assumed Danny felt so guilty about abandoning his family that he was trying to make things as easy as possible for me.’
‘We’ll need the bank statements showing the lodgements you’ve made over the years.’
‘I only started lodging it in the last five years.’
Detective Moloney raised his eyebrows. ‘You received forty eight thousand euros every year for twelve years and you didn’t lodge any of it until five years ago?’
‘Do you have kids, Detective?’
The detective hesitated. ‘One.’
‘Then you know that four thousand euros a month doesn’t go far when you have a mortgage and five sons to raise. Anything left over went on the mortgage. I wanted it paid off as quickly as possible so we’d have somewhere to live if the money suddenly stopped.’
‘Why would it stop?’
‘I figured a man who could walk out on his family without a word was capable of cutting off their income at any time. I repaid the mortgage five years ago and I’ve been saving the surplus ever since.’
‘I noticed a new silver Volkswagen parked out front. Is that your car?’
Maura nodded.
‘It must have cost at least twenty thousand euros, right?’
‘Thereabouts.’
‘How did you pay for it?’
‘Cash.’
The detective raised an eyebrow. ‘You kept twenty thousand euros in cash in this house?’
‘I know it sounds mad, Detective. I’m not one for buying a new car every year. So long as they get me from A to B, I don’t care how old they are. Every time I bought a new car, I put two hundred euros aside each month until I had enough to buy the next one. I thought about banking my savings, but it was comforting knowing I had cash I could get my hands on in an emergency. And with five kids, I was never short of emergencies.’
‘I see. That’s all for today, Mrs Walsh. If I have more questions, I’ll be in touch.’
*
‘He doesn’t believe me, does he?’ Maura asked Aoife when the detective left.
‘I don’t think so.’
‘Great! Couldn’t their questions wait until after the funeral? I’ve enough on my plate right now.’
FIVE
Aoife was waiting at the front door when Maura pulled up. She closed the door quietly so as not to wake Jason and Amy. Jason had refused point-blank to visit his grandmother but, presumably to make up for it, he offered to take the day off to look after Amy.
‘Thanks for coming with me, Aoife.’
Now she had decided to get involved, she might as well be gracious about it. ‘You take Amy any time I have an interview. I’m glad of the opportunity to return the favour.’
‘I’m not doing you a favour, I love having Amy. I was terrified you wouldn’t let me see her after—’ Maura glanced at Aoife, then looked away. ‘Anyway, looking after Amy is a pleasure. I promise you, you’re not going to enjoy meeting Bridget.’
‘She can’t be that bad.’
‘She’s always hated me. She’s of the generation that thinks any girl who has sex before marriage deserves to be burned at the stake.’
Aoife laughed.
‘Okay, maybe I’m exaggerating. She tolerated me while Danny was alive. When he disappeared, she accused me of having an affair. Her Danny would never desert his family unless I’d done something dreadful. I had sex with a man who wasn’t my husband once, she said. What was to stop me doing it again?’
‘That’s horrible. As if you weren’t upset enough.’
‘By then I was furious. It was bad enough abandoning me, but the boys too? And I was livid with Bridget for not telling me where Danny was. I figured if Danny was sending me money, he was definitely talking to his mother. We had a huge fight.’ She smiled. ‘It’s ironic, isn’t it? Neither of us believed he would walk out on the other without a word, and it turned out we were both right.’
‘Did Bridget have a big family?’
‘There was a gang of them, but they all emigrated. She’d be on her own now if it wasn’t for Jack.’
‘Jack?’
‘He’s kind of like family. He grew up next door to Bridget. His mother was a widow and had to go to work. There was no childcare in those days—well, not unless you could afford to hire staff. Bridget’s family looked after Jack when he was little. They were like his second family. Bridget was a good bit older, but she and Jack became like brother and sister.’ Maura turned off the main road and slowed considerably. ‘Jack went into the priesthood. He lived abroad on and off over the years. When he came home for good, Bridget was widowed. He spends more time in her place these days than he does in his own.’ Maura was now driving at a snail’s pace. ‘It’s somewhere in the middle of this road. Why can’t they put numbers on the houses like everyone else?’ She pulled up at the kerb. ‘We’ll have to get out. I need a closer look.’
In the midst of housing estates and apartment blocks were ten small whitewashed cottages, remnants of the time when Rathfarnham was considered the countryside. As they walked down the road, Maura peered at each house. ‘It’s either the one with the red door or that—Jack!’
A plump man in his seventies hurried down the path. The wind blew his few remaining wisps of grey hair into his eyes and he brushed them aside. He smiled at Maura and enveloped her in a bear hug.
‘It’s so good to see you again, Maura.’ He pulled away to look at her. ‘Although I wish it could have been under different circumstances. You’re looking well. How are the boys?’
‘They’re fine. This is my daughter-in-law, Aoife. She’s Jason’s wife.’
‘I’m very pleased to meet you, Aoife.’
Aoife smiled and extended her
hand. Was it her imagination that he hesitated before accepting it?
‘How’s Bridget?’
‘She’s coping.’ Jack pulled on the glove he had removed to shake hands, shivered and zipped his jacket to the neck. ‘That kind of news would be a shock to anyone and at her age it takes time to adjust. Have the police bothered you again?’
He put his arm around Maura and they chatted away as they walked up the narrow path. Aoife trailed behind.
*
Jack showed them into a small, stuffy sitting room. An elderly woman was using a shovel to gather coal that had fallen out of the grate. She looked up as they entered.
So this was Jason’s grandmother. Aoife wondered if she had dressed up for the occasion. The grey fitted trousers and red jumper seemed a little formal for hanging around the house, and who tied a scarf around their neck to lounge by the fire? The surprisingly trim woman ground the heel of a grey suede boot into the embers glowing on the marble fireplace and settled back into her armchair.
‘Sit,’ she said, pointing at a lumpy couch half covered in newspapers and magazines.
‘Bridget, this is Jason’s wife, Aoife.’
Bridget nodded, her eyes on Maura who was gathering up the papers strewn all over the couch. Jack rushed over, took the papers from Maura and threw them on a dark oak dresser that occupied most of the room. ‘What have you been doing to the place, Bridget? It was spotless a few minutes ago.’
‘I haven’t moved out of this chair. And what do you mean it was spotless a few minutes ago? It’s spotless now. Are you saying my house isn’t clean enough for the likes of them?’
Maura pressed her lips together but said nothing.
‘Jason’s wife, is it?’ Bridget turned to glare at Aoife.
‘Eh, yes.’
‘I haven’t seen him since my Danny died.’ She jerked a thumb in Maura’s direction. ‘That one over there wouldn’t let me see any of my grandchildren.’
‘You know very well that’s not true, Bridget. It was your decision to have nothing to do with me. How did you expect to see my children?’
‘Now, Bridget. We want to make our guests welcome.’
‘Don’t talk to me like I’m a four-year-old, Jack. You’re the one who invited them. You make them welcome.’
