Barefoot Over Stones (31 page)

‘I’m sure I can arrange for you to meet Bob another time if you really want to although he is very busy, poor pet. To and fro to London on a weekly basis. In fact I met him in London but he enticed me back here. It wasn’t difficult, I have to say. I’ve always been a bit of a home bird.’

‘I’d say Ted and Aggie haven’t seen you in a while. You outgrew Leachlara fairly rapidly.’ Dan wanted to make it clear to Leda that he didn’t believe a word she said but it was a topic about which her feelings were unable to be hurt.

‘Dan, you can hardly talk. Everyone around Leachlara knows that the night your mother was buried was the last night you spent in that house. People think you took the death of your mother so unbelievably hard that you couldn’t stand to be in the house without her. Of course we both know that’s not what happened really, don’t we? Compromising positions with my big sister while your lovely wee girlfriend had her innocent back turned. Tell me now, while I have you here with me, did you jump on her or did my trollop of a sister make the first move?’

‘I didn’t come here to talk about Ciara or Alison so kindly leave them out of the conversation. You have caused enough trouble so let’s see if we can sort something out so that my family never have to see or hear from you again.’

‘Oh, it suits me not to talk about either of them. I stay well clear of my darling sister because she never tires of lecturing me, as if her life can be held up as some sort of exemplary model of
behaviour that I should try to emulate. As for your dowdy little Alison, that pot plant over there has more personality so no quarrel there either. I have to say though that you are looking incredibly well after years with that vapid little dishcloth. Either you thrive on the boring or else she is a little belter behind that curtain of blandness. Though I doubt it somehow.’

Rage was simmering inside Dan’s head but he knew that a furious argument with Leda would solve nothing at all. Tell her what he knew, cut a deal with her and get home.

‘Let’s cut to the chase, Leda. How much do you want to give me back every piece of paperwork belonging to my father that you stole and get out of our lives for good?’

‘I’m not greedy, honestly, I just feel that I’m entitled to a little something for all the times I made your father a happy man. At his age it nearly qualifies as home help, doesn’t it?’ She laughed gleefully, enjoying her own little joke even if Dan obviously did not.

‘How much, Leda?’

‘I told your father. A hundred grand, and I have debts I need clearing that he didn’t give me a chance to mention. He really was quite rude on the phone and I hardly deserve that after all these years. It’s credit cards mostly. Amazing how many of those you can actually get your hands on and you never have to stop until you hit the limit and then, bang, there’s another one all fresh and green in your wallet panting for a bit of action.’

‘How much does it all come to?’ Dan had taken a pen from his inside pocket and he was tapping it relentlessly against the folder he had carried in under his arm.

‘My head started to pain me a bit when I got as far as adding up to thirty thousand so I stopped, but I’d say forty should cover it. Tell you what, one hundred and fifty grand and I start with a clean slate and a nice little stash. Every girl needs a running-away fund, don’t you think?’

Dan opened the folder and produced three bank drafts payable to Leda, each to the value of fifty thousand euros. He had brought a fourth but it remained folded in his inside pocket. The prospect of ready cash was enough to persuade Leda not to push her luck further. One hundred and fifty thousand would do very nicely indeed.

‘No paper trail, Dan, I like your style. I’d say Con came up with that little manoeuvre.’ She rose from her chair and took a battered pink girly school folder from the top drawer of the chest of drawers. When she extended it open above the table stacks of photocopied credit-card statements tumbled in front of where Dan was sitting.

‘It’s all there. I’m too honest for my own good.’ Leda sat down with a thump and pulled the bank drafts to herself. Across the table Dan gathered the photocopies into a neat pile. How many credit card accounts could his father possibly have? His mind boggled at the extent of what he didn’t know about the man. He rose from the table. He would look at it all later. First he needed to dispatch Leda for good.

‘I wouldn’t come knocking for another instalment, Leda, unless you want your new fiancé to know that you have a son that you left the week you gave birth to him. He might look at you a little differently if he knew that. Might be a bit of a deal-breaker if he knew what you were really capable of, don’t you think?’

Dan was quite proud of how coolly he delivered the statement and satisfied that Leda was visibly shocked that he knew about Colm and Tom. Her neck reddened and the blush moved vigorously up her face. She seemed embarrassed and unnerved, thrown off balance for the first time in their conversation.

‘You have done your homework, I’ll give you that,’ was the weak retort she managed as she tried to think what this might mean for herself. She didn’t think of Tom or Colm as a rule. That chapter was well and truly closed.

‘I just don’t ever want to have to clap eyes on you again, so bear in mind I know things that can damage your perfect little set-up.’ He gestured around the room. She believed him when he said he would tell Bob. There was of course one way she could avoid that. Left stranded with a
single ace in her hand she only had one option – to play it.

‘I told you I wasn’t greedy, Dan. Anyway, you know what they say: you should always leave something in the pot for the next man. It wouldn’t be right to clear him out. What if his son should fall on hard times and need a bit of a dig-out?’

‘Don’t worry, I don’t intend going bankrupt. My father’s money won’t be plundered by me.’ Even now her cheek appalled him. Why could she not have the decency to take the cash and shut her mouth?

‘I wasn’t talking about you. You’ll never take any risks. You showed that when you plumped for Alison, who came free with a GP practice stuck to her arse. I was talking about Tom Lifford – or should I say more correctly Tom Abernethy. It’s the least I can do to make sure Con is not cleared out in case his youngest boy should ever come knocking on Daddy’s door.’

‘You are pure poison, Leda. Is there no depth you won’t stoop to? Involving an innocent little boy – your son, I might remind you – and his father in your little scam. Colm Lifford is a lovely man and—’

Leda cut in. ‘Yeah, lovely and downright gullible. He had a big gaping hole in his life and I offered him a baby-shaped Band-Aid to plug the gap. He fell for it hook, line and sinker. Think about it. I slept with your father for years and I slept with Colm a handful of times. Which of them is more likely to be the father? I had an abortion the year your mother died, forgot to take the pill and got caught. I didn’t bother Con with the details, I just charged the flights and the clinic fee to one of my credit cards that he settled every month. Since that abortion my periods have been all over the place so when I got pregnant on Tom I didn’t even realize until it was too late to take care of it.’

Dan was ashen-faced and Leda couldn’t resist another dig now that she had the advantage again. Dan could find no words to respond to anything she was saying.

‘Do you not like me talking about my periods, Dan? I thought you being a family GP you would be listening to stories like mine all day. Anyway, there was no point in upsetting the little arrangement that I had with Con for the sake of a baby that I didn’t want or that he sure as hell wouldn’t want. Enter Colm looking for a life and I gratefully hand him the child. He is a brilliant father, luckily enough, although that’s according to my sister dearest and we both know she is prone to strange fits of lack of judgement, don’t we? But I am willing to believe that in this instance she is telling the truth. It helps my conscience if it ever troubles me – although thankfully that’s rarely.’

‘How do I know you are telling the truth?’ Dan asked weakly. In his heart he knew this could well be true and he felt his legs had been cut from under him.

‘Why would I lie, Dan? I have my money,’ Leda said, raising her bank drafts like prized trophies in his face. ‘But I will not have you threaten what I have with Bob because I will sink your cosy little world without trace if you push me. I’m not sure how Con Abernethy would feel if he knew his son was growing up in Caharoe but I look forward to finding out if you so much as lay a fingerprint on my life.’

‘Don’t you think Colm should know that he is raising a child that isn’t his own?’

‘Fuck no. Spare me the Mother Teresa bit. The arrangement suits everyone. Tom would be richer if he was an Abernethy but he will probably be less fucked up as a Lifford. Con doesn’t want a child. Colm was gagging for one. You don’t want a little brother and what would your squeaky clean Alison make of everything? I know when to leave well enough alone. I sincerely hope you do too.’

Dan didn’t remember much about leaving Leda’s house except how cheerfully she bade him farewell, as if she had already forgotten the gravity of what they had spoken about. He went in a daze to the car that he had parked a street away. Instead of clearing his head the walk made him even more confused. When he reached the car he found his mobile phone, which he had left there,
showed two missed calls, one from Leachlara and one from Michaelmas. He rang his father first because whatever energy he possessed he wanted to save to talk to Alison. He could fake it with his father. It seemed much of what he knew about Con was no more than half the truth anyway. Con answered the phone immediately, as if he had been sitting on it waiting for a call. He listened to the bare bones as Dan laid them out. She had taken the money and probably wouldn’t trouble them again. Dan had received a bundle of paperwork in return that he would pass on to the Lalors to see if some kind of settlement with the Revenue could be stealthily agreed. Dan listened as his father congratulated him on a job well done. ‘I’m grateful to you for looking after this mess for me. I should never have got involved with her. Nothing good came out of it. I promise you, son, it’s a clean slate from here and now.’

‘OK. Look, Dad, it’s a long way back to Caharoe. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.’

‘You could break the trip by spending the night here,’ Con ventured gently.

‘No I couldn’t. I want to go home.’ His son’s reply was definite.

‘Well, goodnight and thanks.’

Alison sent questions down the phone like wildfire. Yes he had put Leda in her place. She had settled quickly enough and there were other bits of news. He would tell her when he got home. He asked her to wait up. He would get there as soon as he could.

The traffic was mercifully light and Dan made good time out of Dublin, coming through Abbeyleix a full forty minutes earlier than he expected. He listened to the radio to drown out his thoughts but Leda’s face and all she had told him crowded his mind, giving him no respite. He imagined what Tom Lifford might look like. If he saw him would he know if Leda were telling the truth? He thought of Lucy maybe having an uncle younger than her (was that what Tom was?) and of himself having a brother of sorts. Tom must be in the same school as Lucy. Maybe Dan had seen him. Scalding tears trickled down his face while he tried to concentrate on the road in front of him, at once familiar but now rather alien – like everything else. He tried to think of home and his family there, a foil to everything that had happened since he left Caharoe that afternoon. Alison would know what to do. If he could just get home he would tell her everything. Images of her and Lucy swam in and out of focus. Only when his eyes closed did peace wash over him.

Garda records would show that no other vehicle was involved. Daniel William Abernethy GP, aged 38, of Michaelmas House, Caharoe, Co. Cork, had momentarily lost concentration and control of his car as he travelled the dead-straight, tree-lined road that would lead him from the edges of his native Tipperary into Cork. He had made an eight-hour round trip to Dublin and exhaustion was cited as the most likely cause of the accident. He was within twenty miles of home when his car careered off the road at around 11.30 p.m., upturning into the low-lying land below the road and causing him fatal injuries. A passing motorist alerted the emergency services but Dan was already dead when their help arrived. Alison was nudging life into the open fire when the doorbell of Michaelmas House rang at two minutes past midnight.

People meant well and Alison knew that, but the constant company of her parents, relatives and friends around Caharoe that she had clung to for survival in the first days and weeks after Dan
had died had now become suffocating. She was having no time alone with Lucy and she was finding it difficult to know how her little girl was coping with the loss of her father. She seemed to be getting a little better as every day passed, but with people around all the time fussing about everything from what she was eating to the toys she was playing with they were inhabiting an unreal world. Alison knew she would have to pluck them from these false surroundings and see if the two of them could build something from the fragments they had been left. She knew it would take courage that she didn’t know if she possessed for the two of them to set off alone, a pair where once there had been three. Dan had wanted more children, he used to joke that he would settle for five, but Alison had delayed, hoping to get the post of Assistant Principal in the school. Maternity leave would not have helped her cause, she felt, and she persuaded Dan that they had plenty of time because she was only thirty-three. ‘We have years left,’ was her standard response when he raised the issue of not wanting Lucy to be an only child as they themselves had been. He agreed because of course they had, and then he would ask her a few short weeks later if she had changed her mind. Now she had taken extended leave from her teaching post and wasn’t even sure if she could ever go back. Going out to work had always been followed by coming home to Dan. It had been the rhythm of her life and she was at a loss without its comforting pattern. Michaelmas, full of people all the time, only echoed with reminders of what was missing: with his empty chair, the surgery running without him, rows of suits hanging in the wardrobe and the vacant space beside her in their bed. She thought of Lucy, who loved to walk between them, holding each of their hands, when they went on their walks through Bracken Woods at the weekend. It cut her right to the bone that her little girl would never again experience the absolute security of a parent at either hand, listening to every word and sharing every step.