Family Baggage

by Monica McInerney

  ‘To the city centre, thanks,’ Austin told the driver.

  ‘Anywhere special?’ the man asked. Austin noticed the sing-song accent, as he tried to decide. He and Nina had talked about it on the plane. Should they go straight to a police station? Or find a place to stay for the night and then start looking?

  They decided to go to a hotel first. The taxi driver recommended one overlooking the river in the centre of town. He’d drop them right to it.

  Nina was quiet on the journey in. Austin was glad of it, touched by her thoughtfulness. He had that feeling again, that he was rushing forward too quickly. These bold gestures were all very well, but why did he keep feeling foolish, out of his depth? He needed to stop, think it over again. What if they did find Lara in Cork? And what if she was in pieces? He had been able to handle Harriet on her Flinders Ranges tour, but would he cope with Lara in crisis?

  They checked in to the hotel. It was clean, serviceable. All they needed for the reason they were here. Austin left his bag on the bed and returned to the foyer to wait for Nina. He stared out the window, at the river running through the city, the houses clustered on the hill above the city centre, out to green hills beyond. He felt a touch on his arm.

  ‘Do you want to get a coffee first?’ Nina asked. ‘Before we get started?’

  It was a good idea. They left the hotel, walked out along the river into the centre of the city and into a pub with a coloured stone front. Nina ordered two coffees. Austin caught himself looking at the crowds walking past the window.

  ‘You’re expecting to see her?’

  He nodded, embarrassed. ‘Mad, isn’t it? Even if she did come here, she might have left already. She could have hired a car, driven anywhere.’

  ‘She might have, but she might also be here still. Will we ring around to a few of the hotels and B&Bs? Ask if they’ve had a Lara Robinson staying? Someone might remember her.’

  Austin had the weirdest feeling they were talking about her in the past tense. ‘She’s fine. I know she is.’

  ‘Of course she is.’

  They were both quiet, sipping their coffee. ‘Austin, why didn’t Lara ever change her surname to Turner?’

  ‘Mum and Dad never officially adopted her. They were her legal guardians, but I think they thought it would be too traumatic if she had to go through the whole adoption process, talking about her parents. She called my mum and dad her guardian angels.’

  ‘That’s nice.’

  ‘She loved them a lot.’

  ‘Was it hard on Harriet, your other sister?’

  ‘When Lara arrived? No, I think she thought it was great. Like getting an instant sister.’

  ‘I’d find it hard.’

  ‘Would you?’

  ‘Well, if you’d been the littlest, the only girl, and suddenly you had to share the position with another girl.’

  ‘I never thought about it like that.’

  After coffee, they stopped at a shop to buy two umbrellas. The rain was coming down in sheets now, yet there was still a tantalising patch of blue on the horizon. Taunting them, Austin thought. He walked along a pedestrianised street, dodging tourists and shoppers, taking in the Irish names and lettering above the shops, pointing some out to Nina. He heard several different languages being spoken. A newspaper seller’s cry kept echoing through the air. They had walked down two streets when she stopped him, putting her hand on his arm.

  ‘Austin, we’re not going to find her like this. We need to look properly. Have a plan. Let’s go to the police.’

  ‘They won’t be interested. She left voluntarily. There’s nothing they can do.’

  ‘They’d have records of car crashes, though, wouldn’t they? Maybe that’s what Lara did, flew in here, found out from the police where her parents were killed and made her way there. So we have to copy her.’

  ‘Follow in her footsteps?’

  A glimmer of her smile. ‘Like all good TV detectives. Come on.’

  The main police station was easy to find, down from the city hall, away from the river. A modern building, the foyer was big and airy, an atrium filled with light and marble pillars. The policeman behind the desk was in his mid-twenties, red-cheeked, sweet-faced.

  Austin introduced himself and Nina. ‘We’re looking for my sister. She flew to Cork four days ago and we’re trying to find her.’

  ‘You’re reporting a missing person?’

  ‘Not exactly. She left voluntarily. We don’t know for sure where she is.’ He explained about Lara’s parents being killed in a car crash. ‘We don’t know where, but we think it might have been here in Cork somewhere. Would you have details of accidents going back more than twenty years?’

  ‘We would, but you’d have to put in an application to get the files. That could take a week or more. Unless one of the people here remembered the case. I could ask if you like?’

  ‘Would you? That would be a real help. We’re short on time.’

  ‘Can you give me more details? The names and the dates?’

  ‘Their surname was Robinson. Rose and …’ Austin stopped, thinking hard. ‘Sorry, I can’t remember her father’s name. It was around the middle of March, twenty-four years ago.’

  ‘They hit another car, or was it a single vehicle incident?’

  Austin had a flash of their car hurtling off the road after hitting a patch of gravel, before realising he was thinking of the story Harriet had written for her school magazine. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t know.’

  They waited as the young man made a phone call and repeated the details to someone. Austin had to stop himself from leaning over the counter and taking the phone himself. Nina put her hand on his arm. He relaxed.

  The man hung up and shook his head. ‘I’m sorry, it’s not ringing bells with anyone. But that doesn’t mean it didn’t happen around here. Have you tried the newspaper office down the road? It would have made the news, especially the fact it was tourists. It’s not far, if you want to give them a try.’

  The rain had slowed to a light drizzle by the time they reached the newspaper office, a glass-fronted building, with a row of framed front pages along the outside wall. Austin pushed open the door, letting Nina go in first.

  A middle-aged woman was dusting the counter as they came in. Austin explained what they were looking for.

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry, I can’t help you there,’ she said. ‘We only keep six months worth of back issues here. The city library has them all on microfilm and hard copy, though.’

  ‘It’s like a treasure hunt,’ Nina said as they walked outside again.

  Not quite, Austin thought.

  The Cork City Library was on Grand Parade, two blocks away. Austin and Nina were directed upstairs to the local history section. The room was lit by fluorescent lights and lined with glass-fronted cabinets filled with old books. There were several wooden tables, chairs, and a photocopy machine. A doorway led to another room filled with racks of shelving, each shelf holding rows of black folders. The man behind the counter listened as Austin explained once more what they were looking for.

  ‘We should be able to help you. There are two local papers, The Examiner and the Southern Star, which covers the Clonakilty and Skibbereen area, west of here. From twenty years ago, did you say? Can you be more exact with the date?’

  ‘Middle of March, twenty-four years ago.’

  The librarian was back five minutes later with a large black folder, holding the newspapers from March and April of that year. Austin and Nina followed him across the room to a table.

  ‘Let me know if that’s not the one you want. We’ve got decades worth you can look through.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Austin said. He and Nina pulled their chairs close to the table, turned the heavy cardboard cover and started leafing through the pages.

  They found it in the sixth newspaper they opened. Austin knew it was Lara’s parents as soon as he saw the headline on the top of page three. It was all there. The names. The right date. The right location.


  ‘Oh my God,’ Nina breathed.

  Austin reached for her hand without thinking. He held it tightly as they both stared at the page.

  * * *

  Tourists found dead in family tragedy

  An Australian couple was found dead in a holiday cottage outside Clonakilty yesterday in what gardai described as ‘a terrible family tragedy’.

  The bodies of Dennis Robinson (38) and his wife Rose (35) from Melbourne, Victoria, were discovered when the cottage owner called to the house shortly after 8.30 a.m. It is believed they may have been dead for up to two days.

  Gardai said Mr Robinson had stab wounds to the chest and abdomen. The cause of his wife’s death is not yet known, but foul play is not suspected.

  Although still trying to establish what happened in the hours leading up to the deaths gardai have confirmed they are not seeking anyone else.

  ‘At this stage it has the appearance of a terrible family tragedy,’ a spokesman said.

  The state pathologist carried out a preliminary examination at the scene yesterday morning. Later, the bodies were removed to Cork Regional Hospital where a further post-mortem examination is due to be carried out today.

  The cottage owner, Mrs Flor O’Regan, who lives nearby, said she was ‘completely shocked’ by the discovery. She called to the house because she had not seen the couple for two days, she said.

  ‘They booked the cottage for a week and arrived four days ago,’ Mrs O’Regan added. ‘They said they’d been in England before coming here.

  ‘The woman mentioned she had Irish connections – her mother or grandmother, I think – but I don’t know if she had any relatives still living in this country.

  ‘It’s hard to understand how something like this could happen. It’s tragic.’

  * * *

  ‘Austin, it’s a nightmare.’ Nina was very shocked. ‘Are you sure it’s them?’

  ‘It has to be. The same names. The right dates.’ He read it again. ‘It’s them.’

  ‘It’s not an awful coincidence? Another couple with the same name?’

  ‘It’s them,’ he repeated. He knew right then that Lara had discovered this too.

  ‘But I don’t understand it. Why would Lara have been told they’d died in a car crash?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘And what does it mean foul play wasn’t suspected? They were both found dead, weren’t they? Doesn’t that count as foul play?’

  Austin shook his head, pointing at the page. ‘He had stab wounds. The cause of her death was still to be confirmed, yet the police aren’t looking for anyone else. It means …’

  Nina stared at the newspaper. ‘It means Lara’s mother killed Lara’s father and then she killed herself.’

  Austin nodded. He read the article again. ‘It doesn’t say how, just that tests were being carried out. It must have been an overdose of something. Any other method would have been obvious.’

  ‘Oh my God, Austin.’ She turned away from the article. ‘Do you think Lara has seen this too? That this is why she disappeared?’

  ‘It must be.’ Had she done just as they had? Come here, looked up the newspapers? Or rung the police? He had an awful image of her, innocently going into a police station or this room, wanting to know the location of her parents’ car crash, doing it privately, without letting any of them know. And then discovering this, as they had. But on her own.

  Nina turned to him. ‘What do we do now?’

  ‘We ring Gloria,’ he said.

  An hour later they were both in Austin’s hotel room, sitting side by side on his bed, a copy of the newspaper article between them. Austin had started to dial Gloria’s number before realising it was the middle of the night in Australia. This was urgent, but it would have to wait. He was counting down the minutes.

  ‘Austin, shouldn’t you ring the rest of your family?’ Nina said. ‘Your sister? Your brother?’

  He knew he should, but he didn’t want to. Not yet. He needed to talk to Gloria before any of them. She had been his mother’s best friend. She might be able to shed even the smallest amount of light on all of this.

  ‘I want to talk to Gloria first.’ He checked the time again. Still too early. But only just. His mind was racing through all they had learned. He turned to Nina again. ‘What would you do next if you were Lara, Nina? If you’d somehow found all this out?’

  She thought about it. ‘I’d go to the holiday cottage,’ she said.

  ‘To the house?’ His horror must have shown on his face.

  ‘You’d need to. It would be something you’d have to do. I would, anyway.’

  It took just a few phone calls to find out where the house was. They started with The Examiner office. The reporter who had written the article had long retired. They were advised to ring the Southern Star, the local Clonakilty paper. The news editor at the Southern Star knew of the story, but hadn’t been working there at the time. He suggested they ring the local gardai. The garda who answered said yes, he did know the house. Someone else had been in asking about it a few days before, in fact.

  Austin went still. ‘An Australian woman?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Austin took down the name of the house. It was now called Glen View. It had changed names, and owners, several times in the past twenty-four years. The garda said he thought a German couple owned it now. A local property company managed the holiday rentals.

  Austin got the after-hours phone number of the property company from directory inquiries. He hesitated before dialling it. ‘Lara might be gone already, mightn’t she? She might have had a look at the house and driven away. She could be back in England by now. In Australia, even. Maybe it would be better if we just had a quick look ourselves and then went back to Bath, in case she—’

  Nina interrupted. ‘Austin, I need to say something to you. I don’t think it should be me here. I think it should be you and your sister. You have to ring her. The two of you should be doing this together.’

  He still didn’t want to ring Harriet. Not yet. ‘Let me ring this number first. See what I can find out.’ He dialled the number. ‘Oh, hello there.’ He exaggerated his Australian accent, ignoring Nina’s surprised look. ‘I wonder if you can help me. My little sister’s over here travelling around Ireland on holiday and I’m trying to track her down to give her a surprise. Has she been in to your office to enquire about holiday properties by any chance? Her name’s Lara. Lara Robinson.’

  He waited. Nina sat still beside him.

  ‘Two days ago. Brilliant. Right. Yes please.’ He grabbed a piece of paper and started scribbling down directions. ‘Thanks for your help. No, it’s a big surprise, so please don’t tell her I’m coming if she happens to get in touch. Bye.’

  The cheery tone disappeared as soon as he hung up. ‘Lara’s there. She’s rented Glen View.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  In Merryn Bay, Gloria was lying in bed, wide awake, waiting for the alarm clock to go off. Kevin was snoring quietly beside her. She’d had barely any sleep. She’d been too shocked and too angry to sleep. But the decision had been made. She was resigning from Turner Travel. As soon as Melissa got back from Melbourne.

  She and Kevin had spent the evening talking about it. After she had hung up from Matheson Travel for the second time, she had moved into action. She had closed Turner Travel early, putting on the answering machine, pulling down the blind and locking the door. She’d practically run home and bundled Kevin into the car before he had a chance to protest.

  She’d driven to another seaside town further down the coast, to their favourite restaurant. It was a small Italian trattoria, with red and white checked tablecloths, straw-covered chianti bottles, and a simple menu of pasta and pizza. They loved it. They felt comfortable and the food was always delicious. It was where they had gone over the years whenever they had something to discuss or to celebrate, either themselves or with their three boys. They hadn’t been there since Kevin had gone blind.

 
; Gloria barely let him get a word in at first, veering between disbelief and anger, going over and over her conversation with the people from Matheson Travel.

  ‘You’re sure you’re not mistaken,’ Kevin asked. ‘Would she actually do something like that?’

  ‘Of course she’d do it. She’d sell Molly if she was offered a good price. Can you believe it, Kev? She must have thought all her Christmases had come at once when Harriet had to leave on the Willoughby tour. All the Turners out of the way.’

  ‘You don’t think James knows?

  ‘I haven’t a clue. She walks all over him. Perhaps he knows and she’s sworn him to secrecy. She probably broke his leg for him, so he’d be out of the way as well.’

  ‘You a little bit angry about this, love?’

  ‘I’m furious, Kev. Years of service and this is how she repays me. Sneaking around behind my back.’

  ‘Is that it really?’

  She stopped, and took a breath. ‘No, it’s not. That’s not what it is. You’re right. I’ve been well-paid. It’s a job. It’s not about being repaid. It’s about not being told beforehand. It’s the final straw.’

  ‘For who? You or the Turner kids?’

  She gave a half-smile. ‘That’s it, isn’t it? I’m angry but on whose behalf any more? Whether James knows yet or not is immaterial. He agrees with everything Melissa does anyway. Austin doesn’t care about the business and I don’t know if he ever really did. I don’t know for sure if this is where Harriet wants to be or should be any more. I think Lara needs to spread her wings. Going to England was part of it, I’m sure.’ She shook her head. ‘Listen to me, Kev. I probably know more about the Turner children than I do about our own boys.’