CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

 

After a morning’s shopping, Oona and Connie were ready for a sit down, and headed for the bistro in Wexford Street. The sun was shining and it was warm for May. They bustled into the restaurant, their bags brushing tables and chairs as they searched for a seat.

‘Oh, at last.’ Oona flopped down, letting her packages slip to the floor. ‘I’m bushed.’

‘Me, too! You’ve spent a lot of money today, our Oona. You’d no need to go buying me that dress, and does Sean really need another pair of football boots?’

‘It’s time I treated my family. Do you think Mam will like this jumper?’ She took it from the bag and held it up. ‘I’m still not sure about the colour.’

‘Don’t be daft. I’ve seen her in lilac before, she’ll be over the moon.’

Connie gave their order. ‘No cream cake for me. I’m trying to lose weight.’

‘Since when?’

‘Almost a week now.’ With a smile, she said, ‘We may have a ten-year-old boy to look after soon, while his mother recovers from an operation. Dessie and I are quite excited. I’m sure Sean will get on well with him.’

‘That’s great, Connie. Bring him over to see us. I’ll sort out some of Sean’s games. I don’t know why I keep them really.’ She shrugged. ‘He never bothers with them.’

‘Thanks. That’d be grand. Has he said any more about… you-know-who?’

‘Well, he asked me why I’d left Vinnie. Can you believe it? When I tried to explain, he wouldn’t listen, and placed his hands over his ears.’

‘How strange.’

Oona shook her head. ‘He must be feeling terrible though, Connie, and I don’t know what to do to heal the rift between us.’

‘It’ll come right. Give him time to get his head round it. According to Dessie, he was quite chatty this morning on the way to the football club, although,’ she cocked an eyebrow, ‘he wanted to go on his own. Don’t worry, Dessie wasn’t having any of it.’

The server placed their drinks down next to them. ‘One cake. Is that right?’

Connie nodded.

Oona smiled and placed the cream bun between them. Then she sliced it in half and pushed it towards her sister.

‘No. Really, not for me.’

Oona had never known Connie to refuse cake. ‘I’m impressed.’

‘Well, I hope that after a few weeks, Dessie will be too.’ She leaned her elbow on the table. ‘You don’t really believe that Vinnie Kelly could get custody of Sean, do you?’

‘I wouldn’t put it past him to try, and you know how this country favours fathers. But I’m damned if I’ll stand by and let that man entice Sean away from me.’

Connie listened, a pained expression on her face. ‘Sergeant McNally’s a good man. He’ll see justice is done.’

‘Umm… well, I hope so.’ Oona had to admit to her disappointment in McNally, particularly that he hadn’t the power to hold Vinnie longer, in spite of him being a convicted conman. ‘I’ll get a court order, if need be, to keep him away.’

‘What about Jack? Are you going to carry on going out with him?’

‘Of course. He’s been wonderful. And now that he knows about Vinnie, it’s a load off my mind.’ She sipped her drink and bit into her cake, licking the cream from the side of her mouth.

‘I’m glad.’ Connie reached across and placed a hand on her sister’s arm. ‘You deserve some happiness.’

Their coffee break over, they gathered up their belongings. Oona’s bags were full of goodies and special foods she planned to cook for Sean. Since losing Jacqueline, she sometimes felt overwhelmed by her love for her son, and she was determined that tonight she would try to set things right between them.

That evening, Oona spent an hour cooking tea. Now that she could afford to buy decent cuts of meat, she had cooked lamb chops with mint sauce, crispy potatoes and baby carrots, and she made bread and butter pudding. She sat down to watch the news while waiting for Sean. She was confident that before the night was over, they would be pals again.

 

***

 

‘Ah sure, the lad can’t be far, Oona.’ Her mother was shuffling into her overcoat and hurrying out the door after her daughter. ‘He’ll be with Dessie or Tommy.’

He wasn’t.

‘I’ll phone Mr. Dunmore.’ Dessie ran his finger down the list of names in the phone book. ‘We’ll see what he has to say.’ He dialled the number and waited.

‘Where’s Connie?’ Annie asked. ‘Could he be with her?’

Dessie shook his head. ‘She’s gone to the Alcove to get me some Aspirin for this headache.’ There was no reply and he turned towards Oona, her face pale and anxious. ‘I’m so sorry I wasn’t there to pick him up. When my headache worsened, I lay down on the bed and fell asleep.’ He placed his head in his hands. ‘If anything’s happened to him, I’ll never forgive myself.’

Oona looked at him, grief-stricken. ‘Oh God, Dessie! Where can he be?’

‘You two go back home in case he turns up. I’ll go to the club.’

Oona, her breath coming in gasps, ran ahead of her mother and reached the house first, but Sean wasn’t there.

‘Look, your father will be back shortly. He’ll know what to do.’

‘I can’t wait that long. If Vinnie has taken him, he could be anywhere by now. You stay here, Mam. I’m going to find Sergeant McNally.’

McNally wasn’t in his office. Agitated, she paced the room. ‘Where is he? I have to speak to him. Will he be back soon?’

‘I’m afraid not, Mrs.…’

‘Quinn. Mrs. Quinn,’ she repeated. She had no choice but to give the details to the young Gardá behind the desk.

‘What are you going to do? My son is missing, and God only knows where his father’s taken him.’

‘His father! You know that for sure?’ the fresh-faced constable asked.

‘No, but it’s the only explanation. Look, I need to speak with Sergeant McNally. Can you telephone him? He knows all about it.’

‘If the boy’s with his father, I’m afraid we can’t do anything about that. He’s not broken any law.’ The lad carried on scribbling in his notebook.

‘You don’t understand. The man’s dangerous. He’s been in prison.’

‘Have you reported him before?’

‘Yes, of course I have. Haven’t you been listening?’

‘Look, I’ll get you a nice cup of tea and we can talk this through.’

‘Tea!’ She almost exploded. ‘Are you mad? Why won’t you ring the Sergeant.’ Oona wanted to slap his face. Suddenly she remembered the card McNally had given her and rummaged through her handbag. ‘I’ll phone him myself.’ And she made to lift the receiver on the desk.

‘I’m afraid you’d be wasting your time. He and his wife are away for the weekend.’

‘Oh no. He can’t be!’ She glared at the constable. It seemed incredible that this young individual wasn’t going to help her. ‘I told you, the man’s not trustworthy. Why don’t you believe me?’

‘If it’ll make you happy, I’ll go round and speak to him when my relief arrives.’ He licked his finger and turned over a page in his notebook. ‘Where does he live?’

‘If I knew that, I’d go round there myself. Don’t you have it?’

Oona tapped her fingers on the desk impatiently. ‘He was picked up and brought in here a week ago.’

‘Look, if you don’t know where your husband lives, Mrs. Quinn, how can I question him?’

‘Husband! He’s not my husband. If anything happens to my son, your head will roll. I can promise you that.’

Outside, a telephone kiosk stood empty and she hurried inside. With trembling fingers, she dialled Jack’s number.

 

***

 

There was still no sign of Sean when Jack arrived and by then the family had gathered at Oona’s house.

‘Oh, Jack… thanks for coming. He’s taken him. I’m sure of it. What are we going to do?’

‘My poor darling!’ He drew her to him, wrapping his arms around her, running his hand down the length of her hair as he kissed the top of her head. ‘We’ll call back to the police station. See if they’ve come up with anything.’ He took her hand and led her towards the car, helping her into the passenger seat. Only then was he aware of the rest of the family who had followed them to the gate, all tearful and distressed. ‘Try not to worry,’ he said. ‘We’ll be back as soon as we have any news.’

At the station, Jack felt as frustrated as Oona. ‘Are you telling me that you’re not going to investigate this?’ Jack addressed the older Gardá now on duty.

‘An officer went round to his flat earlier, but there was no-one to let him in. Anything more, we’d need a warrant, and Sergeant McNally’s not back until Monday morning.’

‘Look,’ Jack leaned on the counter. ‘Have you any children?’

‘Yes, we’ve got a three-year-old boy and my wife’s expecting another.’

‘Can you imagine some madman abducting him? Not knowing where he was? Wouldn’t you feel like us and want to get the child back safe and unhurt?’

‘He’s with his father.’

As Oona bit back tears, Jack continued, ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about. This man is unstable. He knows nothing about his son. Imagine if this was your child. You’d move heaven and earth to get him back. For God’s sake, just give me the address, that’s all I’m asking.’

The police officer’s face clouded. He picked up his pen. ‘According to a neighbour, a Mr. Demspey lives at that flat.’ He scribbled down the address and pushed it towards Jack. ‘I never gave you that.’

‘Good man. Thanks.’

‘And no breaking and entering.’

‘You won’t regret it, I promise you.’

They arrived to find a small block of flats set back from the road in a well-to-do area of Dublin 4, not far from Ballsbridge. Oona wasn’t surprised; Vinnie always managed to fall on his feet. Dreading what they might find, her insides churned, her heart beating so fast she thought it would jump from her chest. As they approached, a man was coming out. Jack rushed forward.

‘We’re looking for a Mr. Dempsey. Is he in?’

‘I’m afraid Mr. Dempsey’s away. I own these flats. May I enquire who’s asking?’

Oona made a sound that came from deep down inside her; a pitying sound which made Jack turn towards her. ‘It’s all right.’ He placed his arm around her shoulder.

‘Look, can we come in?’

The man stepped back inside. ‘Okay! What’s this all about? Are you friends of Mr. Dempsey?’

‘We’re looking for a young boy whom we believe your Mr. Dempsey may have abducted. Have you seen him with a boy of about thirteen, perhaps looking a little older?’

‘Can’t say I have. Besides, Mr. Dempsey keeps to himself. Are you sure you’ve got the right man. I only let to people I feel I can trust. I have a reputation to uphold.’

‘Your… your so-called Mr. Dempsey’s a crook,’ Oona cried. ‘He’s taken my son. And his name’s not Dempsey. Are you sure he didn’t have a young boy with him?’

‘No child has passed through my premises, I’m sure I’d have known.’

‘Can we see his flat?’

‘Have you a warrant?’

They lowered their eyes. Sighing, Jack said, ‘You can come in with us. After that, we’ll leave you in peace.’

The man hesitated.

‘Please… we won’t take long. Sean could be in there. I have to know. Please.’

‘This is highly unusual, but okay. I’ll have to fetch my keys.’

The man stood in the doorway while Jack checked the bedroom. The bed hadn’t been slept in. The inside was every bit as stylish as Oona had expected. There was a small amount of milk in a glass on the draining board and Oona gasped. She knew how much Sean loved milk and imagined Vinnie filling his head with promises. The thought sickened her. Then she cried out.

‘Look! Over here. It’s Sean’s football kit. Dear God, Jack, he’s taken him!’