First We Take Manhattan

by Colette Caddle

  He had been very tempted to take Beth to Philip’s party. It would be nice to go out as a couple. But he hadn’t told Max or Sinéad about her, so just showing up with a strange woman on his arm would have come as a right shock. Also he knew that he wouldn’t be in the best form on their birthday. God, was he glad now that he hadn’t taken her with him with the bombshell that Krystie had dropped.

  Maybe it was wishful thinking, but he was inclined to believe that Sheila was alive. Although, if she was, why had she left her car on the end of a pier, left her bag, her phone . . .? The only logical answer was that she wanted them to think she was dead. Why? It had to be something serious, something traumatic, to drive her to take such a step, and that worried him. He’d racked his brains, trying to figure what could be so unbearable that it would drive Sheila to walk away from her life, from Sinéad, her beloved sister and best friend. What was so bad that she couldn’t even confide in her twin? His thoughts immediately turned to Philip, as they had over the last few days. Sinéad had been suspicious of him from day one and perhaps they should have trusted her instincts. Had he done something to make Sheila run? The thought filled him with fury and by the time he reached Beth’s house his fists were clenched as he wondered what he could or should do.

  ‘You’re not looking too happy.’

  Beth stood, arms crossed, looking at him. He hadn’t even noticed her open the door. He tossed his head, smiling. ‘Sorry, in a world of my own. How are you today?’ He stepped inside and hung his coat on the hook by the door.

  ‘I’ve had a busy morning,’ she said, bustling into the kitchen. ‘I got stuck into clearing out the spare room.’

  He followed her into the warm, bright kitchen. ‘Something smells good.’

  ‘Bacon and cabbage,’ she said, going to the cooker.

  ‘Lovely. So why the clear-out? Are you expecting visitors?’

  ‘No, it’s where I kept all of Gerry’s things, and I decided last night that it was high time I went through them. There are plenty of good suits and jackets that the charity shop will be glad of and it’s not as if I’m ever going to read all his books or use his fishing gear.’ She chuckled as she started to carve the meat.

  ‘Would your son not want any of it?’

  ‘No. Gavin took everything he wanted. He’s the one who’s been nagging me to get rid of it all.’

  ‘To be honest, I couldn’t bring myself to do it at all,’ Kieran admitted. ‘Maggie’s sister took care of it.’

  ‘And your children didn’t mind?’ Beth asked.

  ‘Ah, no. Sure, they were only kids at the time and she kept all the important stuff: jewellery, letters, mementos, that sort of thing.’

  ‘You were lucky to have her.’

  ‘I was. Bridie was a good woman. As hard as nails, mind you, and not great at showing affection, but a heart of gold underneath.’

  ‘Did she never marry?’

  He shook his head. ‘No. She lived over in America for years. I think she might have been involved with someone there and, when it didn’t work out, she came home.’

  ‘And then she lost her sister. That’s very sad.’

  Kieran felt the usual pangs of guilt he always did when he thought of Bridie. ‘She’s in a nursing home now, suffers from dementia. Most of the time she doesn’t recognise any of us.’

  ‘God love you, Kieran, you’ve had more than your fair share of troubles.’ Beth served up the food onto two plates and carried them to the table. ‘There’s beer in the fridge if you fancy one,’ she said, fetching parsley sauce and mustard.

  ‘Will you join me?’ he asked, going to the fridge.

  ‘No, just some water for me, ta.’

  As he tucked into his meal – she really was a great cook – Beth told him about the call she’d got from her son last night and how she was thinking of turning part of the garden into a vegetable patch. He liked that she didn’t expect anything more than a nod or a yes or a no. Her warm voice that always seemed to hold a smile washed over him and he relaxed with her in a way that he couldn’t with his own family. She seemed to have no expectations and made no demands. He had been afraid that she’d start suggesting they go out to a movie or for a drink, but she seemed quite content for him to just drop in to see her every so often and when he was leaving and kissed her cheek she never asked if or when she would see him again. All in all, being around Beth was easy.

  He let her chatter on and waited until she’d made coffee and sat down again before he spoke. ‘I told you about the dinner that Philip, my-son-in-law, was giving, didn’t I?’ he said.

  ‘Oh, yes, how did it go? I imagine it must have been very emotional for you and for poor Sinéad too – her first birthday without her twin.’

  ‘Yes. But, well, we got a bit of a shock too.’

  ‘Oh? Why, what happened?’ she asked, her face creased in concern.

  He hesitated. He barely knew this woman, which was part of the attraction of talking to her. She didn’t know any of his family and he could be frank with her. But Philip was a public figure and Sheila’s disappearance had been big news. Could he trust Beth to keep his confidence?

  ‘Maybe if it’s a family matter you’d better keep it that way,’ she said.

  He obviously looked as uneasy as he felt. She was a very perceptive woman. He decided to tell her. If Krystie was right and Philip was going to reopen the search for Sheila, it would be all out in the open soon, anyway. ‘I need to talk to someone or I’ll go mad and I’d be glad of your opinion, Beth.’

  ‘I’ll be happy to throw in my tuppence-worth if it will help. And I promise, Kieran, anything you tell me won’t go any further.’

  ‘I appreciate that.’ He took a drink of coffee before he began his story. ‘Sinéad hired this new girl to work for her. She’s just moved back here from New York. I only met her at the party, but we had a chat and I took to her.’ He smiled at Beth. ‘You know the way it is with some people, you just take an instant like or dislike to them?’

  ‘I do.’

  He did a double take at the twinkle in her eye. ‘Yes, well . . .’ He cleared his throat. ‘She seems quite bright and is doing well and it’s obvious that Sinéad really likes her.’

  ‘It will be great for her to have some company.’

  He nodded. ‘Anyway, the dinner was finished and, the next thing I know, Dylan, Sinéad’s fella, is telling me that she needs a word with us outside. I thought that the night had just been too much for her. I wasn’t sure it was a great idea to begin with, to be honest, but it seemed important to Philip.’ He grimaced at the thought. ‘I suppose it would have been wrong to just let the day pass. Anyway, out I go and there’s all the family in this little room off reception and Sinéad sitting there, looking like she’s seen a ghost. Then she says that Krystie has something to tell us.’ He sighed. ‘The fact is the girl claims she saw Sheila in Manhattan a few weeks back.’

  Beth’s coffee cup clattered into the saucer. ‘I don’t understand. How could that be?’ She looked as bewildered as he felt.

  ‘I don’t know. If the lass is right, and Sheila is still alive, well, what happened to her? If she was out shopping alone then she obviously wasn’t abducted or, if she was, she’d got free. But if that was the case she’d call us, not go shopping. I go over it again and again and I can’t make sense of it. The only thing I did wonder was, had she been diagnosed with something fatal and she didn’t want to give anyone the trouble of looking after her?’

  ‘So instead she pretended to take her own life?’ Beth raised her eyebrows in disbelief.

  ‘I know. It doesn’t make sense to me either.’

  ‘Maybe she had some sort of breakdown.’

  ‘A breakdown that would cause her to pretend she’s dead?’ Beth’s eyes lit up. ‘Maybe she was planning to do it and then realised she couldn’t and just ran away instead.’

  ‘But why wouldn’t she come and talk to one of us?’

  ‘She wouldn’t have been thinking rationally, Kie
ran.’

  ‘That sounds possible but what could have upset her that much? She was such a sensible and well-adjusted girl.’

  ‘There’ll be a good reason, there has to be. We just have to figure it out. I don’t know about you but I need a drink.’ She fetched them two brandies and took a sip. ‘Sheila loved her family and you were very close, you say.’

  ‘Yes, honestly, that’s the truth; she was kindness itself. She put everyone before herself.’

  ‘So, if Krystie is right, when you find Sheila you can help put right whatever upset her. That’s good news, isn’t it?’

  Beth’s voice was gentle and kind and Kieran blessed the day he’d bumped into her. He nodded and smiled slowly.

  ‘You’re right, it is. But I’m still left wondering what would make her go.’

  Beth stared into her drink. It was a long time before she spoke again. ‘I can only think that I would do it if it were the lesser of two evils.’

  ‘What could be worse than running away from everyone who loves you and leaving them not knowing if you were alive or dead?’ Kieran took a gulp of brandy and winced as it burned its way down his throat.

  Beth sighed. ‘Because she was angry, upset, worried or—’ Kieran looked up and caught the look of alarm on her face.

  ‘Or what? Please, Beth.’

  She raised troubled eyes to meet his. ‘Or she was afraid.’

  Chapter Sixteen

  Krystie stood staring out of the kitchen window, eating cornflakes and hoping that Max wouldn’t drop by today. She still felt mortified when she thought about the night in his apartment. If he hadn’t done the decent thing and put her in a taxi, she knew that she would have ended up in his bed.

  Sharon had woken up when she got home that night and grinned knowingly when Krystie walked in looking flushed, her chin red and her once perfect braid askew.

  ‘Oh my God, no need to ask what you’ve been up to! Max?’

  ‘Yeah.’ Krystie had gone straight into her room and closed the door while she stripped and put on pyjamas.

  ‘Tell me,’ Sharon demanded, following her into the bathroom and watching impatiently as she took off her makeup and brushed her teeth.

  ‘It was just a cuddle on the couch, that’s all,’ Krystie tried to make little of it.

  ‘You look perfectly sober to me. Hang on a sec. What couch, where?’

  Krystie sighed. ‘I went back to his place.’

  ‘Oh, my God, I don’t believe it. What happened to him not being your type?’

  ‘He isn’t, it just happened. I drank too much wine,’ Krystie insisted.

  ‘Yeah, sure. So –’ Sharon grinned – ‘is he a good kisser? He must be: he’s had lots of practice.’

  Krystie frowned. She didn’t like to think of Max kissing other women. Oh, this was ridiculous, what was wrong with her?

  ‘Well?’

  ‘Yeah, he was good,’ she admitted, as she remembered the feelings Max had aroused in her.

  The next time Max had dropped by the studio she had been relieved that he made no reference to their romp on his sofa, but his eyes had bored into her making her shiver. She didn’t know what she would do or say the next time they were alone but, thankfully, the task of trying to find Sheila was uppermost in everyone’s thoughts, and when he did stop by it was usually to talk to his sister or whisk her off to a meeting with Philip.

  Sinéad was behaving as if she’d been pumped full of adrenaline and when she was in the studio she spent all of her time teaching Krystie the intricacies of millinery. They regularly ended up sitting cross-legged on the floor surrounded by the various materials, Sinéad showing her how to stretch and bend sinamay – the material used for the base of most hats – or how to paint on stiffener once she was happy with the shape, and drumming into her the importance of leaving it until it was completely dry to ensure a quality finish. She showed her how to use the hat block to cut out shapes, and set Krystie tasks to make the different hat shapes starting off with a simple percher, then a fan, a pillbox and lastly a knitted hat, reminding Krystie of that fateful photo.

  She spent her time on Skype telling Sandy about the steep learning curve she was on but said nothing of Sheila. She had blurted out her suspicions and now she planned to let the family do what they wanted with the information and concentrate on her work. She didn’t even tell Sharon in the end. Anyway, her friend was a lot more interested in what was happening with Max.

  ‘Morning.’ The lady herself appeared in the archway, rubbing her eyes. ‘Oh, it is so cold!’

  ‘Yeah, but it’s a nice day. Go inside, the heater’s on in there, and I’ll put on the kettle.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Sharon said, and went to huddle up on the end of the sofa nearest the radiator. ‘You looked as if you were in a world of your own when I came in. Dreaming of Max?’

  Krystie shook her head in amusement. ‘No, I was thinking about my family actually, and trying to decide what to buy them for Christmas.’

  The kettle clicked and she made two mugs of tea and carried them through.

  ‘Ooh, thanks.’ Sharon held the mug in both her hands to warm them, and took a sip. ‘Keep it simple, wine, chocolate or perfume.’

  ‘Yeah, I think you’re right, though I’m going to make Ma a hat.’

  ‘Great idea, she’ll love that. Are you going over there for Sunday lunch today?’

  ‘Yeah.’ Krystie was amazed at how quickly she’d fallen into the old routine. Ma had always put on a big spread on Sundays. ‘Everyone should be there.’

  ‘A practice run for Christmas Day, huh?’ Sharon grinned. ‘Has Fallon been behaving herself?’

  ‘She has. She can’t think of anything to slag me about. Ma keeps going on and on about my brilliant job and has the newspaper photo of me and Sinéad pinned up on the kitchen noticeboard.’

  ‘That was a great photo. Pity there wasn’t one of you with the delicious Max, though.’

  ‘I’m delighted there wasn’t. I don’t want people thinking I’m his latest squeeze.’

  ‘True,’ Sharon agreed. ‘You should be famous in your own right.’

  ‘Famous?’ Krystie threw back her head and laughed. ‘I make hats, Sharon.’

  ‘No, you’re an ace designer who makes hats. Stick with that family and you’ll go places, mark my words.’

  Krystie thought about her friend’s words on the bus ride over to Ballymun. She would have laughed at Sharon a couple of weeks ago but she’d seen for herself the night of the birthday party that the Fields family and Philip Healy were definitely minor celebrities. A politician, a successful designer and a suave, rich bachelor, and the added tragedy of Sheila’s disappearance, ensured that. For the first time she could see why Philip might take advantage of it. Their photo had appeared in three newspapers and, while politicians usually got a rough time, there was a lot of sympathy for Philip, which might not be there if he wasn’t still so close to his wife’s family. Again, the word ‘calculating’ came to mind.

  Her dad opened the door and took her in his arms to hug her. ‘Howaya, sweetheart?’

  Krystie smiled. She’d been home over a month but her da still lit up like a Christmas tree when she came through the door, and she enjoyed her visits and catching up on the news. She kissed his cheek. ‘Hi, Da.’

  He rolled his eyes. ‘Glad to see you. I’m sitting like an eejit listening to your brother’s new girlfriend natter my ear off and Blake’s sitting there drooling.’

  She laughed. ‘He’ll never change, will he? Is this one as bad as the others?’

  ‘She’s a decent enough girl but, God love her, a breeze could go in one ear and out the other.’

  ‘In that case I’ll go and give Ma a hand in the kitchen.’

  ‘Ah, your mother’s got everything under control. I’m the one that needs help,’ he complained.

  ‘Alexis and Fallon will be here soon, won’t they?’

  ‘Fallon will but she’s already had a go at the poor girl and now they hardly talk
to each other, and Alexis isn’t coming – she has a tummy bug.’

  ‘Ah, that’s a pity. Okay, let me say hi to Ma and then I’ll come and rescue you.’ She opened the kitchen door as her mother was basting the roast potatoes. ‘Smells good.’

  Her mother looked around and smiled. ‘Hello, love, how are you?’

  ‘Mad busy but I’m enjoying every second.’

  ‘You wouldn’t believe the number of times I’ve been stopped by neighbours who saw your photo; they’re all raving about it.’

  ‘Aw, that’s nice.’

  ‘Whoever thought I’d be the mother of a celebrity?’ Peg shook her head in wonder.

  ‘That’s a bit of an exaggeration now, Ma,’ Krystie laughed.

  ‘Apart from that night I’ve hardly been outside the door since I came home, and Sinéad doesn’t go out much, either. Max –’ she stumbled on his name – ‘he’s the only one who lives the high life.’

  ‘He’s always in the paper.’

  ‘I can’t understand Irish newspapers. Why would they want to photograph an accountant?’

  ‘Because he’s rich, single and always has a gorgeous girl on his arm. Let me think. Who’s the latest?’ Peg screwed up her face. ‘Her name’s on the tip of my tongue. Oh, yes, Natalie McHugh, the fashion model.’

  Krystie itched to ask more but she didn’t trust herself. She could already feel her cheeks growing hot. Natalie must be an ex, she decided, otherwise Max would have brought her to the birthday party. And he never would have come on to her the way he had if he was dating someone, would he?

  ‘What do you think of Blake’s new girl?’ she asked, deciding it was safer to change the subject.

  Peg smiled. ‘Ah, Leah is a nice enough lass but not for him. I think we’re going to have to send him on one of those dating shows. He just hasn’t a clue what he’s at and the poor lad always ends up getting his heart broken.’

  ‘Don’t we all?’

  ‘Are you missing Jacob, love?’