What would she do about Emma? Andrew couldn’t have her. He was going sailing. Even if she explained the urgency he wasn’t likely to oblige. He’d hate to think he was making her life any easier. It would stick in his throat. He’d probably accuse her of lying or going out on a date. She would deny it but he wouldn’t believe her. She and Andrew had been separated for nearly two years but Kathy didn’t have the stomach yet for dating. She’d been managing just fine, just her and Emma.
It was ironic really, the one man she’d been faithful to and he’d betrayed her. That blonde apprentice had been young enough to be his daughter. Her firm youth had flattered him and Andrew was a peacock of a man. Kathy’s marriage had failed – all for the sake of his office fumble and a few grubby afternoons in a mid-range chain hotel.
At times like these she missed her mother and father. They’d never known Emma. They were gone long before Emma arrived. That too was ironic. When she finally thought she might make a fit mother, it had taken her years of IVF to conceive. Lately, as she waited by the school gates for Emma, it made her sad to watch other kids being collected by their doting grandparents. Kathy and Emma rarely saw Andrew’s parents, even though they also lived in Dublin. Andrew had been at pains to keep Kathy at a distance from them – as if she might embarrass him.
She was stuck. Why shouldn’t she call on Andrew’s parents? Kathy couldn’t see any other solution. The situation was such an injustice to Emma. The child had only met them a handful of times. Just like any other kid, Emma was entitled to know her grandparents, despite them showing little interest.
Mrs McSorley was condescending. Sniffy. Kathy was at a loss to understand what her mother-in-law had to be so superior about. The woman had definitely not been born with a silver spoon in her mouth. She’d worked in a cinema until she’d married Andrew’s father. Yet, she seemed to look down her nose on others.
Kathy toyed with the idea of bringing Emma to Limerick to meet her friends. It would be a chance to show her off. Emma would charm them all. She’d inherited that trait from Andrew alright. But, more importantly, Emma was living proof that Kathy wasn’t a failure – she’d done something right, she wasn’t a complete fuck-up, contrary to what Andrew said. And Kathy was managing to pay the mortgage solely from her earnings. She’d been surprised by her growing clientele in what was after all a very average housing estate. It wasn’t the kind of place where people spent their money flippantly. However, they seemed comfortable to share their ailments and their wages with Kathy. She had pitched her price list according to what she thought the neighborhood could afford. It was of course considerably less than the grand red-bricks of her former marital home but with an increasing number of clients she was doing okay.
“Emma, how would you like to stay with your grandparents for a night or two?” Kathy asked her daughter.
Emma looked up from her Nintendo. “The McSorleys?” she lisped.
Kathy’s heart sank. That about summed it up. They weren’t Granny and Granddad, Grandma and Gramps, or Nana and Grampy. They were the McSorleys.
“Yes, honey. I have to go away for a few days.”
“But why can’t Daddy look after me, like the last time you went away?”
It still amazed her that Emma could remember that episode. It was nearly three years ago now, when Andrew had forced Kathy into rehab. He’d been too embarrassed by her to tell his parents.
“Daddy has to work. It’d be fun to spend some time with your grandmother and grandfather.”
Kathy was such a hypocrite. But what choice did she have?
Emma screwed up her face and mulled this over.
“I’ll tell you what, Mummy, I’ll give it my utmost consideration. If and only if you promise to bring me back a big surprise.”
Kathy laughed. Emma loved using the big words she heard Andrew using. It made her feel important. Emma collected words the way other kids her age collected stones or shells.
Kathy’s hastily conceived scheme had the added bonus that it would seriously annoy Andrew. Approaching his parents without his approval would drive him mad. It was petty she knew, but he could be petty himself.
Later that evening, having checked Emma’s homework and made hot chocolate, Kathy went upstairs and opened her wardrobe doors. Every outfit told a story. There were the trousers she wore at Emma’s last parent teacher meeting where she’d learned that Emma had a gift for maths. There was that tight fitting red sweater that she’d worn going to the bank manager to organise her latest loan. There was the mid-length animal print dress she’d been wearing at dinner when Andrew told her it was over between himself and his apprentice. In the following breath he’d also told her that it was over between himself and Kathy as well.
What should she pick to wear for this occasion?
Kathy looked in the mirror of the bathroom cabinet. The story of her life told in her face. She had the drinking under control, so her complexion wasn’t too bad. All those organic food and wheatgrass juices didn’t hurt either. She’d been blessed with thick white skin and apart from some deep seated frown marks and lines around her mouth, she still looked the right side of middle age. Her hennaed roots had started to grow but there wasn’t much Kathy could do about that at such short notice.
She felt bad about canceling and rescheduling some of her regulars who were very disappointed. In a way those clients were her surrogate family. She saw them weekly. They relied on her and they were grateful for her healing hands. It was a type of symbiosis – Kathy needed them to need her. She needed to lose herself in other people’s problems.
A feeling of dread now washed over her. What if this weirdo who’d turned up wanted something she couldn’t give? What if this freak-show wanted something like forgiveness?
“Mummy?” came a plaintive voice from the doorway.
Emma stood there in her pink pajamas.
“Will grandmother McSorley make me hot chocolate before I go to bed?”
Kathy felt a stab of guilt. She felt like a character in Grimm’s fairytales, like she was sending Emma to some wicked grandmother in the woods.
“Of course she will, Emma. Everything’s organised. I sorted it all this afternoon.”
“Where are you going, Mummy?” she sounded anxious.
“I’m going to a reunion with old college friends.”
“What are their names?”
“Ruth and Charlotte.”
“If they’re your friends, how come I never heard you talk about them before? How come I’ve never met them?”
“Well, Emma, because Ruth lives in England and Charlotte lives in Galway and sometimes people who are friends don’t see each other very often but they can still be friends.”
“Like you and Daddy?”
“Yes.”
“Are Ruth and Charlotte friends of Daddy’s as well?”
“No, honey. They were my friends before I met Daddy. Now that’s enough questions for now. Off to your room and look out the clothes you want to bring to grandmother McSorley.”
Ruth and Charlotte hadn’t even been at her wedding. She hadn’t invited them. Andrew knew nothing of that part of her life. He knew she’d flunked out of university. He knew about all that crap with Josh White. He knew about the termination. But he knew nothing of Sarah.
Unlike Kathy, Ruth and Charlotte had graduated. They’d moved on. Unshackled themselves from the guilt that had dogged Kathy for the last two decades and more. In truth they had little to berate themselves for. Kathy was glad their lives were successful. They’d deserved it. She’d distorted the natural order of things, attempting to thwart the cards she’d been dealt. What had happened to Sarah should have happened to her. Unwitting, kind, and giving, Sarah had taken the cards meant for Kathy and stepped into Kathy’s shoes.
It had been twenty-four years since she’d seen the girls. Kathy was nervous. Would they recognise each other? Would the paste and jewels of material success compensate for disappearing youth? Would either of them have succumbed to the lure of surgical intervention? Or would they have accepted the widening or withering of approaching middle age? She’d find out soon.
The exchange on the granite steps of the McSorleys’ home proved as awkward as Kathy feared. Susan McSorley’s eyes flickered from her grand-daughter to Kathy and back again.
“Lovely to see you, Kathy.”
“And you too, Sylvia. Emma’s so looking forward to the weekend.”
Emma shot her mother a look.
“Maybe we could go to the zoo tomorrow, Emma?” Sylvia suggested.
“That would be very nice, grandmother,” said Emma politely, if a little uncertain.
“They’ve got a baby giraffe, born only last week,” said Jed McSorley, standing next to his wife. He was dapperly dressed as usual.
“You don’t mind collecting her from ballet this afternoon then?” asked Kathy, edging her way back down the stone steps. The taxi driver was getting impatient and had already sounded the horn.
“That’s no problem, Kathy. I’d be delighted. Emma and I can go for coffee afterwards.” Susan extended a bony hand to her grand-daughter and Jed picked up the little pink and white overnight bag that Emma’d packed herself.
Kathy waved at them from the taxi. Her heart squeezed. Little Emma stood on the steps pillared on either side by the grandparents she barely knew. The child waved bravely as the car drove her mummy off into busy Dublin traffic.
Kathy squirmed in the back of the taxi feeling uncomfortable. The McSorleys couldn’t have looked more ill at ease if a basket bearing an abandoned infant had arrived on their doorstep. Kathy smoothed her skirt. Suddenly the skirt felt shorter than she wanted it to be. She tried to pull it down a little to show less thigh. She’d seen the way the McSorleys had eyed her up and down. Skirt too short they thought. Heels too high. Jacket too tight.
Kathy had left home feeling youngish, slim, able to wear clothes with an edge. She’d managed to hold back the years. But now she felt idiotic, awkward, the soon-to-be divorcée trying too hard. Even the taxi driver had raised his eyebrows as she’d climbed in, showing a bit more leg than she’d intended.
What the hell! There were no rules here. There was no dress-code for a rendezvous with a freak. For what else could this be called? Rummaging about in her bag, she checked for her Xanax. For emergencies only. She wondered at the wisdom of this meeting but if Ruth and Charlotte were willing to go, Kathy had to make the effort.
As the taxi driver cursed the traffic, Kathy sat back and relaxed. He muttered and shouted and balled his hand in a fist several times before reaching Heuston train station.
Sitting alone on the inter-city train, she watched the fields and farmhouses whizz by. There was no escape. She’d be assessed. The women would assess her. Kathy’s life would be looked at, weighed, and measured. She’d be measured against Charlotte. She’d be measured against Ruth. They were the people who knew her, where she’d come from, where she’d been. The only people qualified to do the job.
Charlotte had arranged to collect Kathy at the train station in Limerick. From there, they were heading to Adare, where Richard lived. Not to stay with him – that would be too awkward after all these years. Sleeping on makeshift beds was a thing of the past. Charlotte had checked them in to a local hotel where Ava and Penny had met this guy the day before.
Kathy didn’t know how the meeting went. There’d been silence over the last twenty-four hours. All Kathy knew was that he wanted to meet the surviving members of Sarah’s family, followed by the women that were with her on that day.
Richard would be there this time. Kathy would never have agreed to meet this weirdo without him. Richard had been the one who’d encouraged the women to meet him. He wouldn’t allow them to be lured into a trap – allowing this guy to gloat over them. Kathy was convinced that this tradesman must know something. She was nervous. One thing was for sure, the guy definitely knew something about the St Christopher’s medal at least.
However, no matter what the outcome of this encounter, no matter what happened at the meeting, nothing could erode Kathy’s complicity in what had happened. That was a burden she would always bear. The burden had been made all the more onerous because it was secret. A secret that had grown and festered and become pernicious. It was time for Kathy to own up. People should know what she had done.
As she sipped at her coffee in a paper cup, the decision to tell Charlotte and Richard gathered appeal. Ruth had covered for her back then. That had not been fair. She owed her an apology. It would carry little weight twenty-five years later, but better to make the apology than not at all.
Kathy’s phone beeped with an incoming text. Charlotte was going to meet her on the train platform. A fresh jolt of nerves ripped through her. Kathy was edging closer to the truth and it may turn out that no one would ever be brought to justice but it would still be better to know exactly what had happened.
“Look at you!” Charlotte exclaimed. “You haven’t changed a bit!”
Kathy was startled.
Charlotte had appeared from nowhere and Kathy suddenly found herself in a tight embrace. Kathy hugged Charlotte back and as she released her, she was glad to see that despite the years, within this woman was evidence of the girl she once was – that was still intact. Charlotte had remained slim, hair still in a crew-cut, with greying by the temples. Her eyes were glistening, threatening tears. As Kathy stood there, smiling at her friend, the years fell away.
“It’s so great to see you, Kath,” gushed Charlotte “So great. It’s too bad that we lost touch. Ridiculous really! Come quickly, though – I’ve parked on a double yellow.”
Linking Kathy’s arm, Charlotte escorted her friend swiftly down the platform. Kathy’s nerves began to settle. This might just be alright, she thought. Charlotte’s delight certainly appeared to be genuine, not simply a guise to smooth over an awkward situation. The reason for their reunion was hardly joyous.
“Have you checked in to the hotel yet?” Kathy asked, walking briskly.
“Yes – it’s lovely,” Charlotte replied. “Quaint, in an old world way. Ruth and I just managed to grab a coffee in the bar together before I left to get you.”
“How is Ruth?” Kathy asked.
“Oh, quite the success story – much as you’d expect. Smart clothes, gorgeous shoes, expensive jewellery. God, that sounds really bitchy of me, I don’t mean it to…”
“I know what you mean though,” Kathy said, laughing. “I knew Ruth would do well for herself. But tell me this, does she have beautiful children?”
Kathy may not have the expensive clothes and shoes any more but she had one beautiful child that meant more to her than all those things.
“She’d just started to go through photos of her kids when I had to leave to get you. But you should see her house – palatial. The stuff of glossy magazines.”
“Really?” But Kathy was far more interested in hearing about the kids. Over the years she’d learned that there was little comfort in showcase properties and luxury cars. She’d never been as lonely in her life as in the grand redbrick she’d shared with Andrew.
“Here we are,” said Charlotte pointing and clicking a key, indicating her car.
“Oooh, I like it – very sporty.”
“Mid-life crisis,” Charlotte said, swinging her door open.
“It’s a long way from the old red Ford Fiesta,” said Kathy, fastening her seatbelt.
Yeah, it sure is. A long way,” Charlotte said solemnly as she checked the rear-view mirror. There was a pause between the two women now quietly acknowledging the reason for their reunion.
“So this oddball…” said Kathy after a while, “… this workman or whatever he says he is – he’s coming to our hotel in the morning?”
“That’s right.” Charlotte’s demeanour changed. “Eleven o’clock. He’s coming with Richard and with the detective heading up the case now, Stephen Shaw.”
“They let him go, that’s right, isn’t it?” asked Kathy. “There wasn’t enough to charge him with? That’s what you said on the phone?”
“No… not exactly,” said Charlotte. “They’ve sent a file to the Director of Public Prosecutions to see if there’s a case to answer. And there is something alright – this perv – he had to lodge a bail bond.”
“Lodge a bail bond?” Kathy repeated. “Sounds like they don’t expect him to abscond into the night then.”
“Possibly not, but this guy has form, Kathy.”
So the net was closing in, at last.
“Look, I promised Richard I wouldn’t say anything,” said Charlotte, smoothly shifting the gears. “But it’s all going to come out in the wash anyway. Just pretend you don’t know, okay? You can’t say a thing, Kath. Promise?”
“Come on, Charlotte, what is it?” Kathy’s mouth felt dry. She looked about her bag for some gum. She knew she had some. “I won’t mention anything, promise.”
“Well, this Queally guy – you remember I told you he got a dishonorable discharge from the army back in the eighties?”
“Yeah, so?”
“It was for assaulting a woman, a fellow NCO.”
Charlotte took her eyes off the road and briefly glanced at Kathy.
“Oh, an assault,” said Kathy. “Oh, I see now…”
Kathy felt a wave of revulsion towards this faceless man. She’d hoped and hoped that Sarah hadn’t suffered, that her death had been swift and sudden, that she’d had no sense of what was to befall her.
“Seems that way,” said Charlotte, eyes back on the road. “He said it was self-defence but they booted him out anyway. So now he has some story he wants to tell us but Richard won’t say what it is. Says we have to make up our own minds. I don’t think the police are doing much more at the moment –”
“You mentioned last night that Ava and Penny Nugent were here yesterday?” Kathy interrupted. “That he met with them?”
“That’s right,” said Charlotte. “Richard said they were extremely upset. Very shaken by the experience. They upped and left immediately after the meeting.”
Kathy gripped the door handle. She was feeling tense again. “Did… did Richard sit in on the meeting between this guy and the sisters?”
“Yes,” said Charlotte. “Richard and Stephen Shaw. I’ve tried, but he won’t say a thing about it. Only that we should prepare ourselves. This is going to be difficult, Kath. We’re not going to like what we’re going to hear.”