“Jayzus, Finn, what are you doing still up?” Emmet pushed the bedroom door closed at his back. The loud voices coming from downstairs were slightly muted.
“I need to talk to you.”
“If it’s about Patrick again …”
“It’s not.” Finn yawned widely and forced her tired body to stand. She had never been a night owl. “I need to talk to you about your long-term plans for this house. I’m serious, Da. I can’t go on like this not knowing what the hell is going on.”
“Where did I get you from?” Emmet took her swaying figure in his arms. “You could never just go from one day to the next. Always wanted to know what was over the hill.” He rested his bristled chin on her head. “This house will pass from me to you to Ronan – there is a little matter of death to decide the matter.”
“You would have a great deal of money if you sold it.”
“That was never an option.” Emmet kicked off his shoes and with Finn in his arms fell onto the bed. He was knackered. These film people kept unholy hours. “I was always going to pass it on to you.” He pressed a kiss onto her forehead. “Only not while Patrick Brennan could benefit from it.” He’d been determined that Finn’s husband would never be able to lay his hands on the Emerson family property. He’d never thought the marriage would last as long as it did. Finn had kept her eyes closed and her mouth shut for longer than he thought humanly possible.
“All very well, Da, but the place costs a fortune in taxes and upkeep.” She told him about her friends’ suggestions. “I need to know if you are ready to settle down, Da, or if I’m turning this house into a high-market rental property. I can’t keep going day to day waiting for you to make a decision.”
“Finn,” he shook her gently, “I don’t want to make any firm decisions about this house right now. I have a lot of thinking to do. But you should go ahead and plan your own future. You are related to the man whose company claims it can put a house up anywhere in the world in five days. Why the fuck would you think of putting a tent in the garden?”
“I never said anything to you about a tent, you old rogue! Those modules you’re talking about don’t come cheap.” She’d drooled over them on the TV often enough to know. The actual house was built to the customer’s design in a factory. It was delivered complete to the site.
“So, borrow money on the house.” Emmet yawned widely. He wanted to sleep not solve the problems of the world. “If you do it in your own name that will start that credit history you’ve been moaning you lack.”
“Was ist das?” Rolf came into the room. He’d left his noisy family downstairs.
“Miss Moan-a-Lot has been asking me of our plans for the house.” Emmet patted the bed on the other side of Finn. Lord knows the bed was big enough to hold a football team.
“A Finn sandwich, my favourite,” Rolf, after kicking off his shoes, lay down tiredly on the bed.
“I don’t want to be married to this house anymore.” Finn wanted to make that very clear. She would protect the family’s heritage but she wanted to be free to live her own life. “I will oversee the property but that is all I am willing to do.” She snuggled down and fell asleep as the last word left her lips.
“She never could stay up late.” Rolf looked over at his partner. “I will talk to Pieter about a house for her. Our Finn would never be happy with a camper van at the bottom of the garden.”
“It makes sense that she should have her own place.” Emmet settled down. He’d been going to take a shower but the bed was so soft and his favourite people were with him. He pulled the leather belt from his trousers and undid the top button. “Finn must be allowed to work on her art.”
“We have done well with our child.” Rolf was getting too old to keep up with the young people. “I will book a flight for Ingrid in the morning.” It was time for his sister to return to her farm.
“Thanks be to God,” Emmet didn’t know why she’d bothered coming to Ireland. She’d spent no time with Finn, seeming to want to be with him and Rolf all the time. It had become bloody uncomfortable for him.
Chapter 39
“We can never be friends …”
Finn laughed. It was so nice to sit in her home office first thing in the morning and talk to Dare. It was late at night in California.
“I’m a night owl and you’re an early bird.” His voice was amused.
“I love the view from your deck.” He’d sent her photographs at her request.
“You can come see it in real life any time you like.”
It wasn’t the first time he’d invited her. They had fallen into the habit of chatting from time to time. Dare sat out on his deck most evenings, making calls while his children slept.
“Me ma tells me you got a car?” he said when it looked like she was going to ignore his invitation yet again.
“I did.” Her smile was bright and happy. “Barry, my mechanic, found me a lovely second-hand car. It’s fire-engine red and bigger than my old one. I’ll be able to fit more scrap metal into it – which is a relief – I haven’t been able to move much with the wheelbarrow.” She sipped her tea. She’d prepared a pot before she’d put the call through. Dare always telephoned her to set up a time to talk. It was very convenient for both of them.
“I thought my aul’ ma was losing her mind when she told me what she was getting you for a birthday gift.” He laughed.
“I love it.” Her smile disappeared when she looked at the painted figure of the beige woman hanging on her office wall. She mentally shook herself. “What’s happening with you? You’re beating about the bush about something – spit it out.”
“I want to come home, Finn.” Dare raised the long-neck bottle of beer he held loosely in his hand to his lips. “I told you that when I was last over.” He shifted around in his deck chair. “I’m at a loose end – don’t know what to do with myself. I’m too young for retirement.” They had become close during these chats. They were both in the same position – trying to find the next step in their life’s journey.
“Are your children still horrified by the thought of living in Ireland?” Finn had listened to him pour out his troubles before. “Have you explained to them that you won’t be selling the Malibu house?”
“Yeah,” he sighed. “You were right. They were scared of losing the memories of their mom that are in this house. I don’t need to sell up. I have enough money. Who would have thought a lad from a Dublin Corporation housing estate would be sitting on a deck in Malibu talking about his money?” His laugh held no humour.
“I have a suggestion.” She’d given this matter a great deal of thought. She hoped she wasn’t about to damage their growing friendship. “If you don’t like it – tell me – I won’t be insulted.” She knew Dare had more money than he could ever spend thanks to the computer chip he’d invented that was used extensively in computer-generated images. He’d sold his own computer software company for a fortune, wanting to be home with his wife in what turned out to be the last days of her life.
“It’s your turn to spit it out.” Dare sat forward. “I’ll accept any advice gratefully.”
“I showed you around my house when you were last here.” She gave herself a mental kick. “Your mother suggested I rent it out – make the place pay for itself.”
“She told me about the film crew you have there at the moment,” Dare prompted when she seemed to be struggling for words.
“Yes.” Finn let out a breath, blowing the red hair from her brow. “I thought of offering to rent the place to you – at a reduced rate – your children would have time to get to know your family and I’d get a feel for what is involved. What do you think?”
“Are you serious?” Dare tried not to get his hopes up. It was difficult to travel as a single parent with four children at your heels. It was too much to expect family to put all of them up together. His children didn’t want to be separated from him and spend time with what were essentially strangers to them even though they were his family.
“I thought you could be my first paying guest.”
“Finn,” he sat forward, his mind whirling at this opportunity, “if you’re seriously thinking of renting out your house – it would be an answer to my prayers. I could rent it for a couple of months this summer. The kids are off school and it would give them a chance to get to know my family better.” The house was close to all of his brothers and sisters – their kids could hang out with his kids. That house and garden were big enough.
“I’m serious but I haven’t had time to check everything out yet.” She’d been running around thinking and planning in an abstract way. If Dare was going to rent the house it changed everything – put the boot in so to speak.
“I’d need someone to look after us.”
“Your Auntie Mabel is a widow with no children,” Finn put in quickly. She had no intention of becoming a housekeeper and carer. Not even for Dare. “I hardly know the woman but surely as your mother’s sister she’d be as efficient as Angie?” It didn’t necessarily follow but there was no harm in asking.
“Good idea – you’ve given me a lot to think about.” He looked off into the distance. “One of my kids is up. I have to go. I’ll talk to you about this again.”
Finn snapped off the connection on her side. The sounds from outside her office door had been increasing while she’d been talking to Dare. The visitors were up and about. She used her office screen to check on her house guests. She sighed deeply and stood – time to face the mayhem that ensued every morning at this ungodly hour.
“Morning, daughter!”
“Guten Morgen, sweetling.”
Emmet and Rolf were in the kitchen when Finn entered, bustling around preparing breakfast and beaming. The noise of scraping cutlery and rattling dishes came from the dining room where the visitors were eating breakfast. The hosts with the most – it was a role her fathers seemed born for.
“I’ve left a list of foodstuffs I need you to order.” Emmet pointed to the kitchen notice board with his spatula. “Your yogurt and fruit are in the fridge. The tea is fresh.”
“Angie’s crew will change the beds today.” Rolf, a brimming coffee pot in hand, went towards the dining room.
Finn took her tea and yogurt out to the patio. She’d learned it was better to get out of the way and let them get on with it.
“Finn,” Max, Dolph’s son, a loaded plate and mug of coffee in hand came through the kitchen door to join her, “I need your bank details.” He put his plate and mug on the table. “I may join you?”
“Please.” She waved at a vacant chair. What else could she do? “Why do you need my bank details?”
“You are my cousin.” He waved a hand to stop her making any disclaimers. “I will not see you taken advantage of.” He gulped at his coffee, closing his eyes at the first taste. He pulled his plate of food towards him and began eating. “I have taken the liberty of sending an invoice in your name to the film company.” He waved his sausage-laden fork in the air. “They must pay for the use of your home.”
“I –”
“No. You are too nice. They have big money. Let them spend it.” He moved to take a piece of paper from his trouser pocket and passed it to her. “This is the amount you will be paid for the time already spent.” He pointed to the figures on the paper. “The second will be a weekly payment.”
She looked at the figures, wondering if she was going to faint. They couldn’t be right – surely? She looked at the top of Max’s head. He was busy forking food into his mouth. She looked at the paper again. Three thousand pound a week! Were they insane! What was it Elizabeth Taylor had said when she was asked about the first million-dollar movie contract offered to her? Oh, yes – ‘If they are stupid enough to offer millions, I’m not stupid enough to refuse.’ She’d do the same. It wasn’t millions but it felt like it to her.
“This Irish breakfast is so good,” Max said. “We are being spoiled.” He pushed his empty plate away. “I must call my office today. I have been away longer than I thought.” He took a deep breath. “The filming here will be finished soon. Ingrid has been saying many nasty things about you to your German family.” Max looked down the garden. He had hoped to spend time with Finn but it seemed someone else always needed his attention and this woman – his cousin – she liked to disappear into the background, very unlike his family. “She is not a nice woman. I am sorry.” A shout from the house pulled him to his feet. “The bank details.” He took a pen from his pocket and waited while she provided the details. He would not see her cheated. The film company could afford to pay for their stars’ living accommodation. The shout came again. He shoved the paper with Finn’s bank details into his pocket and ran back into the house, shouting goodbye over his shoulder.
Finn picked up his dirty dishes and carried them into the kitchen. She looked at the mess and had to force herself not to touch it. Angie’s crew would be here shortly.
“Bye, Mum,” Ronan put his head into the kitchen to say. A shout of his name had him running out, not waiting for her response.
“Bye, Mum – you should come out to Bray to see what we’re doing!” Oisín shouted without appearing.
She had tried going out to Bray, wanting to be part of the action. She had been very much in the way although everyone had been polite to her.
“Daughter – there you are.” Emmet stepped into the kitchen, freshly showered and shaved. He drove his own car to Bray so had a degree of independence.
“You have told her?” Rolf joined them.
“Give us a minute.” Emmet put the kettle on – his Finn always thought better with a cup of tea in her hand. “The film crew will be finishing up soon.” He turned and leaned on the untidy kitchen counter by the kettle. “We two,” he waved to where Rolf stood, “we are going to spend the summer in the camper van. It will be our last long journey. We want to say goodbye to some of our favourite places.” He turned when the electric kettle at his back switched off. “You are getting your way, daughter. We are coming home to live.” He looked over his shoulder with a smile before turning back to making the tea. “We will have to talk more about the nitty-gritty but that can wait. We have to go – give the tea a few minutes to brew.”
They turned to leave a stunned Finn staring after them.
“Don’t forget to order the food!” was a parting shout.
“What just happened?” Finn dropped into a chair, feeling as if she’d just been run over by a steamroller.
Chapter 40
“Happy Birthday, Finn, you’re looking good!”
Finn tipped her glass at her image in the mirror, grinning like an idiot. She was wearing an outfit Maggie created as a birthday gift. She wouldn’t be serving tea this morning. She was getting ready to ‘grow old’ disgracefully. She’d been a ‘good girl’ for the first forty years of her life. She intended to do as she pleased from this day onward.
“I love this look!”
She sipped a Mimosa while admiring the woman in the mirror. She’d spent very little time in her life looking at herself. The outfit, palazzo trousers in a soft white material decorated with red and blue birds in flight, thrilled her. The wide twisted straps of the summer top, in the same blue as the birds, hid any hint of strap from her push-up bra. A scarlet leather belt cinched her slim waist. The weight she’d lost in the last year gave Finn a long, lean, elegant look. The open-toe scarlet shoes pushed her height to almost six feet. She looked bloody good if she did say so herself. The phoenix earrings that were Angie’s birthday gift finished the look.
“Right, stop admiring yourself. You have to get ready for your company.” She’d invited Maggie and Angie for brunch.
She walked slowly along the long hallway. The steam train she’d put in motion whistled merrily as it chugged along. The house felt different – no longer an enormous weight on her shoulders. It felt – if she wasn’t being too woo-hoo about it – the house felt happier. She admired the dust-free surfaces and highly polished furniture. Angie’s cleani
ng team had a full-time job here now. The German film crew were paying her a very handsome retainer to keep the house available for visiting staff. They hadn’t finished with the houses in Bray. She didn’t care – she got paid even when the house stood empty.
She walked into her kitchen with a pleased smile on her face. She had the waffle irons out and sitting on the work surface. The measured ingredients for the waffles were ready and needed only to be mixed. She’d squeezed orange juice to add to the champagne she’d opened to make Mimosas. The strawberries gleamed red and moist. The blueberries and fresh fruit salad looked delicious. The cream was whipped. She’d been up and about since early getting everything ready. All she had to do now was assemble the ingredients. She pulled on an apron to protect her outfit – it might not be glamorous but she didn’t want anything to spill on her lovely clothes.
She wanted to laugh out loud. It didn’t matter that her family had forgotten her birthday again. Her sons were in Germany getting on with their own lives. She heard from them when they had a moment to spare. Emmet and Rolf were spending the summer touring favourite sites for the last time. They would return and take charge of the house in the autumn. It would have been nice to get a card but she didn’t feel like sitting and crying because everyone had forgotten her birthday. She’d finally realised that the only person’s acknowledgement she needed in life was her own.
Finn belted out show tunes while mixing ingredients for the waffles.
The doorbell interrupted her. She checked the kitchen screen, smiling when she saw Angie and Maggie almost dancing impatiently on the street outside the curtain wall. She hurried to let her guests into her home.
“I don’t know what’s going on.” Angie shoved Finn out of her way and dragged Maggie by the hand through the gate. “Be sure to lock that and turn off your bell quick.”
“There are news vans all over Rathmines asking after you.” Angie was breathless. “They’re asking for Finn Emerson, so that should slow them down – most everyone still calls you Mrs Brennan.” She’d run out of church and hadn’t stopped running since. If there was a just God she should have lost a stone in weight with the workout she’d just had.
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