“It would’ve been confessing to a secret,” Ben pointed out. “And Freya wouldn’t have minded that you had a child. Especially a child who was being brought up by someone else.”
“Maybe not. But I wasn’t sure.”
“So — do you want to have another child? Is that why you dumped Freya?”
“I wanted to marry Freya,” said Brian. “And I was happy to think that children would be part of our marriage. I know it sounds callous, but the night I asked her — the night of your party, Ben — I didn’t want to ruin it by telling her about Linnet. But I would’ve told her. OK, it could’ve been a problem, but we’d have got over it, I know we would. Then when she told me that she couldn’t have any children herself…I thought that if I talked about Linnet right then she’d feel even worse. And she’d wonder why I hadn’t told her before. And the whole kid thing would be an even bigger issue. Even though Freya matters to me more than anything else.” He rubbed his jaw again. “After that I simply didn’t know what to do.”
“She said that if her not being able to have children wasn’t a problem that you should stay in the restaurant, but that if it was you should leave. You left, Brian. So the kid thing matters more.”
“No.” Brian shook his head. “To be honest with you, Ben, I didn’t know what to do at that point. I panicked. I know that sounds really, really stupid, but that’s what happened. I wasn’t sure that even if I stayed she’d believe I didn’t want kids. In any event I’d have had to tell her about Linnet regardless, and that was the difficulty. How do you tell someone who’s just told you that she can’t have kids that it doesn’t matter because you have one already?”
“And doesn’t it matter really?” asked Ben.
Brian sighed. “I can’t say that it doesn’t completely. I thought that we might have a child together. I got excited by the idea of bringing up my own son or daughter. Watching them grow up rather than receiving progress reports on them. I missed out so much with Linnet and I regret it more than anything. Marijka was good about access, but it was difficult given that they were in Amsterdam. I adore my daughter, but sometimes it does feel as though she’s simply a distant relative. This is only the second time she’s actually stayed with me. I wanted the closeness of bringing up my own child. To see it through properly. So when Freya said…when she told me…well, I was disappointed.”
“I always thought you were a bit boring,” said Ben. “I didn’t realize you had a secret past.”
“All of us have secret pasts,” said Brian. “You can’t get to forty-six without having a secret past.” He swallowed the rest of his drink. “Just think, when you have kids of your own they’ll find out that you and a woman they’ve never heard of got married in Las Vegas and split up a couple of weeks later.”
“Thanks,” said Ben.
“I’m simply making the point. It’s not as though I tried to keep it a secret, it’s just that it already was. And it’s hard to talk about these things.”
“Freya doesn’t have a secret past,” said Ben.
“She probably does. You just don’t know about it.” Brian tried to grin, but winced instead.
“I must ask her,” said Ben.
“Don’t,” said Brian. “If she wants to tell you, she will.”
“You mean there is something?” Ben looked at him incredulously. “Something she’s told you but not me?”
“I don’t know,” said Brian. “All I’m saying is that she doesn’t have to have told you everything about her life. And you don’t necessarily have to know.”
“I suppose you’re right.” Ben rubbed his hand over his face. “So what now?”
“Why did you come here in the first place?” asked Brian.
“She’s unhappy,” said Ben. “She feels betrayed by you. I came to…to get revenge for Freya.”
Brian touched his jaw gingerly. “Revenge hurts,” he said. He sighed. “I was afraid, Ben. Of what to say to Freya and how to say it. It was easier to let her assume I was upset because she couldn’t have kids. Though I know that’s wrong too.”
“You’re doing her an injustice,” said Ben. “Maybe she wouldn’t be able to cope. But that’s her decision.”
“You’re sounding very wise all of a sudden,” said Brian wryly.
“I’ve had lots of experience the last few weeks,” said Ben.
“So how are your own relationships going?”
“I don’t have any relationships,” said Ben glumly. “I just lurch from a series of crises with different women.”
Brian laughed. “One day it’ll all come right.”
“Maybe.” Ben finished his drink too. “So — are you going to contact her?”
“Yes,” said Brian. “Maybe not tonight or tomorrow night, but I will be in touch. It’s unfinished business no matter how it turns out.”
“Good.” Ben held out his hand and Brian grasped it firmly. “I won’t tell her I was here.”
“Thanks,” said Brian. “And, Ben, just one more thing…”
“What?”
“In your lurching from woman to woman, please do me a favor and keep my daughter out of the equation.”
Chapter Thirty
LIME
A refreshing oil with a zesty aroma which is uplifting for tired minds
Carey enjoyed the training course at Shannon. The drive from Dublin had been a good deal less fraught than she’d feared and it had given her time on her own which she’d enjoyed. She’d opened the sun-roof and basked in the unexpectedly warm fresh air as she sang along (tunelessly) to her Heart of a Woman CD. She’d arrived at Shannon in a good mood and eager to start the course.
If the training center had been located in the airport itself, she would have flown down, but the Irish Aviation Authority’s modern glass building was located in an industrial park a few miles from the airport, surrounded by well-tended lawns and ponds. The advantage of this was that during the breaks, the people attending the course could sit outside and recharge their batteries in the warmth of the spring sunshine. Once inside again, the replicated control center could have been any control center in the world. Carey and the others had battled with a range of different scenarios that the course instructors had thrown at them, dealing with them as though they were real-life situations even though they all knew that the captain of the 747 which had just executed an emergency landing in appalling weather conditions was really a twenty - five - year - old Aviation Authority employee in the next room.
The course finished on Thursday night, but most of the participants stayed in the airport hotel until Friday morning, where they had a last breakfast together. Carey was just sitting down at the table when her mobile phone rang.
“Hi, Syl,” she said. “What’s up?”
“It’s Jeanne.” Sylvia’s anxious voice was choked with tears and Carey felt a chill wrap itself around her.
“What’s the matter?” she asked.
“She didn’t come home last night.”
“What?”
“She went out —” Sylvia gulped — “she went out with her friends and she hasn’t come back.”
“Hasn’t she ever done that before?” asked Carey. “Stayed over with people?”
“Well, naturally she has, but she always tells me first,” said Sylvia. “She’s seventeen, Carey. I expect her to stay with friends sometimes, but not without telling me.”
“Did she leave a note or anything?” asked Carey.
“Of course she bloody didn’t!” snapped Sylvia. “I’m not stupid.”
“No, you’re not, I’m sorry,” said Carey quickly. “But maybe that’s what she’s done, Syl. Maybe they went back to someone’s house and she stayed over and she hasn’t even woken up yet. Have you tried ringing her?”
“Yes, yes,” said Sylvia. “But I got her message-minder. And that’s worrying in itself. She never has her phone switched off.”
“Have you called the police?”
Sylvia started to cry again. “Yes, I had to. I
mean, oh, Carey, it’s as if this is happening to someone else. I keep thinking of all those news stories about girls…she’s my baby, Carey. I know she’s supposed to be grown-up but she’s not. She’s a kid really.”
“I know,” said Carey, “but don’t start imagining the worst.”
“How can I not?” demanded Sylvia. “She knows how worried I’d be.”
“I’ll leave here now,” said Carey, “and I’ll be with you in a few hours. Look, Syl, did you and Jeanne have a row?”
“The police asked that too,” said Sylvia. “No, we didn’t have a row, not really. She wanted to go away for the weekend with some of her friends and I said no, but she didn’t throw a fit about it or anything. I thought it was all right.”
“So maybe she’s gone anyway?” said Carey hopefully.
“That’s what I thought at first,” said Sylvia, “but I rang Deirdre Barr’s mother and she called Deirdre and they said that Jeanne wasn’t with them. So that’s not where she is.”
“What about Gary?” asked Carey. “Could she be with him?”
“I don’t know,” said Sylvia. “We did have a bit of an argument about him, but it was last week. The usual stuff — I said she was seeing too much of him and she told me not to interfere. The thing is, Carey, I don’t even know his surname or where he lives or anything. I wanted to find out, but she wouldn’t tell me. She didn’t want to tell me anything about him.”
“Don’t you think it’s more likely she’s with him than anyone else though?” suggested Carey.
“Maybe. But she wouldn’t just go off with him and not say something.” Sylvia’s voice rose into a wail. “I mean, she might be with him, but she wouldn’t stay out all night. Carey, she knows I’d be worried stiff. She really does.”
“She’ll be OK,” said Carey as convincingly as she could. “She’s a sensible girl really.”
“It doesn’t matter how sensible she is if some maniac has her,” cried Sylvia.
“No maniac has her,” said Carey. “She’s with Gary or one of her other friends, and for whatever reason she’s behaving really badly, but I promise you, Sylvia — she’s OK.”
“I want to believe you.”
“Believe me,” said Carey.
“I’ll try.”
“And I’ll be there soon.”
“OK,” said Sylvia.
Carey ended the call and told the course supervisor that she had to get back to Dublin for a family emergency. When she explained the situation the supervisor pursed his lips and told her that he thought there was an Aer Lingus commuter flight leaving Shannon for Dublin very soon and did she want him to see if he could get her on it. Carey nodded and before she knew it she was boarding the flight and being shown to her seat over the wing.
She liked flying in commuter planes; because of their lower altitude passengers got a much better view of the lush green countryside even though they were more likely to be buffeted by the winds. But today was gloriously clear and still, and if she hadn’t been so worried about Jeanne she would have enjoyed the flight. She was almost certain that her niece was with her boyfriend, but Carey simply couldn’t understand why Jeanne would do something so thoughtless as to stay out all night and worry Sylvia so much.
She wondered where Gary lived. She also wondered what he was like — whether he’d treat Jeanne properly or whether he was a totally unsuitable boyfriend for her in the first place. And she felt terribly guilty that Jeanne had met Gary at her wedding party and so, indirectly, if Gary was to blame for whatever Jeanne was up to, it was her fault too. And then Carey sat bolt upright in the plane, because of course she could find out where Gary lived, or at least get his phone number. All she had to do was to ring Ben.
They were making their final approach to Dublin Airport. Carey waited impatiently until the female captain had touched the plane down in a featherlight landing on Runway One Zero and taxied to the stand before pulling out her phone and pressing Ben’s speed-dial number.
“Hello?”
She could hear the sound of people in the shop and knew that he was behind the counter at Herbal Matters.
“Hi,” she said. “It’s me.”
“I know. What do you want?”
“It’s an emergency,” she said. “I need Gary’s number.”
“Gary?”
“Gary,” she repeated impatiently. “The bloke on your football team. Going out with my niece.”
“Oh, that Gary,” he said. “Why?”
“For Christ’s sake, Ben, just give me the number, will you?” she cried. “He’s probably with Jeanne. She didn’t come home last night and Sylvia’s sick with worry.”
“Bloody hell.” Ben sounded shocked. “It’s on this phone, but I don’t know how to read a number without cutting you off. Can I ring you back?”
“Sure.” Carey had disembarked first and was now striding through the baggage hall. She planned to get a taxi to Sylvia’s, but, she thought, if she got Gary’s number and Jeanne was with him, then she’d go to wherever he was and forcibly drag her niece home with her. Her phone beeped.
“Hi,” she said.
Ben called out Gary’s number to her. “Let me know if you contact him,” he said.
“Thanks.” Carey punched in the numbers and then almost cried with frustration as she heard Gary’s message-minder. She stood in the center of the arrivals area and cursed under her breath. Then she swore out loud when she got outside and saw the length of the queue for the taxis. Her phone rang again.
“Any luck?” asked Ben.
“No.” Her voice was tight.
“Where are you?” asked Ben. “With Sylvia or at home?”
Carey explained about the controllers’ course and her early morning flight up to Dublin.
“So you weren’t in the apartment last week?” asked Ben.
“No,” said Carey.
“Or last night obviously.”
“Obviously.”
“I know this might sound a bit off the wall, but — Jeanne wouldn’t have the key to it by any chance, would she?”
“Oh my God.” Carey gripped the phone so tightly that she heard the press-on cover creak. “She might have. We joked about her using it once. And she knows I was away.”
“I’m in Drumcondra today,” said Ben. “I’ll meet you there if you like.”
“Would you?”
“Sure.”
“Thanks,” said Carey. “I’m waiting for a bloody taxi. I’d probably be quicker running to the apartment.”
“I’d pick you up, but even if there’s a queue you’ll get a taxi quicker,” said Ben.
“I know. It’s OK,” said Carey.
“Don’t worry,” said Ben. “Gary’s not a bad bloke.”
“I’m not worrying about him,” said Carey. “But if she’s not with him…oh, Ben, if she’s not with him, then I don’t know where she might be. Maybe she’s run off or something, but I can’t see her doing that. I really can’t.”
“Let’s try your apartment first.” Ben had left the shop while he was talking to her and was already in the van. “If she’s not there, then we’ll worry a bit more.”
“Thanks,” she said again.
She debated about whether or not to ring Sylvia, but decided to wait until she got to the apartment. If Jeanne was there, then she’d be able to ring Sylvia and explain that all was well. If she wasn’t — well, Carey didn’t want to get her sister’s hopes up unnecessarily. And going to the apartment would only add an extra few minutes on the journey to Sylvia’s anyway. She tumbled into the next taxi that arrived and gave him her address. She was astonished to see the white Herbal Matters van arriving at her apartment block at the same time as the taxi. And her eyes widened as she noticed the angry bruise beneath Ben’s left eye as well as his swollen nose. But she didn’t have time to ask him about it.
“You must have raced out here,” she remarked instead.
“Exceeded the speed limit slightly,” he admitted as he waited for her t
o pay the taxi driver. “Have you spoken to Sylvia yet?”
Carey shook her head. “This’ll only take a minute.” She took out her keys and let herself into the block. Then she ran up the stairs and unlocked her apartment door.
The sickly sweet smell of cannabis floated out to meet her and she could hear the low drone of the TV. Her heart leapt as she exchanged looks with Ben and the two of them went inside. Carey knew that she was giggling with relief, but she didn’t want to laugh at all as she looked at her semi-naked niece and the guy stretched out beside her on the off-white rug in the living room. Both of them had clearly passed out, but were perfectly well.
“Wake up, you moron!” Ben kicked Gary Hannigan in the back and the young man stirred languidly.
Carey took out her phone and called Sylvia.
Ben and Carey sat on the new leather couch while Jeanne perched anxiously on the edge of the armchair. Ben had ordered a taxi and Gary had gone home, but not before being sick in Carey’s bathroom. Ben and Carey had rushed him out of the apartment so that he wouldn’t be there when Sylvia arrived.
“She’s going to kill me,” muttered Jeanne. “She really is, Carey. She’s going to kill me.”
“I don’t blame her,” said Ben.
“It wasn’t — we didn’t mean — it was just…” Jeanne couldn’t finish her sentences.
“I thought you had more sense, Jeanne,” said Carey. “I mean, drink and drugs!” Jeanne moistened her lips nervously as the buzzer of the apartment sounded and pulled at a curl in her hair. Then she straightened up and looked defiantly in front of her.
“Hi, Sylvia.” Carey opened the door and Sylvia strode into the room. When she saw her mother, Jeanne’s defiant expression immediately disappeared and she started to cry. Sylvia stood beside her for a moment, then knelt down to hug her daughter. Ben and Carey exchanged relieved glances.
After a couple of minutes Sylvia released her hold on Jeanne and stood up. “Well, young lady,” she said, her voice grim but still a little shaky, “what have you got to say for yourself?”
Jeanne said nothing but twisted a sodden tissue in her hand.
Too Good to Be True Page 39
