Better Together (51 page)

‘You took things you shouldn’t have,’ he told her. ‘Even if it was a mistake and you panicked, you should have brought them straight back to Nina. You came out with me tonight and you never said a word, even when we . . . You kept quiet about it and you must have known how I . . .’ He shook his head.

‘I thought you might have known already. And we were on a date. I didn’t want to bring up stories from the past.’

The sudden sound of Sheridan’s phone ringing, from inside her handbag, startled them all.

‘Go ahead and answer it,’ said Joe.

But by the time she picked it out of her bag it had stopped. The caller ID showed her that Alo Brady had been looking for her. She winced and put it on the table in front of her. There was no way she could talk to Alo right now. The phone started to ring again. She stared at it.

‘Oh for heaven’s sake, answer the damn thing,’ Joe said.

But Sheridan didn’t pick it up. Once again it stopped, but then beeped to indicate that Alo had left a message.

‘It’s not important, really.’ She could hardly breathe.

‘It obviously is. Check your messages,’ said Joe.

She dialled her voicemail. And then, because the volume was still at maximum from when she’d been talking to Alo at the restaurant, everyone heard what he had to say.

‘Hey, Sher, just wondering, can you get your hands on any of O’Malley’s emails? They might lead to the Sneaky Sheikh. Looking forward to getting your stuff.’

Nina and Joe were staring at her, their expressions horrified.

‘It’s not what you think.’ Sheridan was aghast. ‘Really it’s not.’

‘
You’re
not what I think.’ Joe looked defeated. ‘I never wanted to believe—’

‘Joe, please, listen to me,’ said Sheridan rapidly. ‘That was Alo, he’s an ex-colleague, he’s the guy who rang me earlier. He wanted me to give him some background information on a piece he’s working on—’

‘Please stop,’ said Joe. ‘You’ve done enough already.’

‘No, no, you’re getting it all wrong.’

‘He’s looking forward to getting your stuff,’ said Joe. ‘My father’s emails. I don’t think I’ve got anything wrong there.’

‘You have. You . . .’ Suddenly it was all too much for her. She started to cry.

‘Oh, not tears!’ Joe’s voice was disgusted.

‘I said I’d give him information because I wanted so badly to have my name attached to a story. But Joe, I don’t think I would have done it. Not after tonight. Not after . . . us.’

‘Us?’ His voice was scathing. ‘Us?’

‘OK, I know you don’t trust me and you’ll never believe
a word I say, but . . . but they’re doing a story about corruption. And the trail leads to your dad. And maybe you. And I don’t know if you’ve done anything wrong or not, but it’s all going to come out. So . . . so . . . do whatever you have to do.’

Joe looked at her in utter astonishment.

‘How long have you known about this?’ He demanded.

‘Only since tonight, when Alo rang. And I didn’t know what to do.’

‘Oh, I think you knew exactly what you were going to do,’ said Joe. ‘I’m out of here.’

And with that he walked out and slammed the door behind him.

Sheridan looked blearily at the clock. It was past eight and she couldn’t believe that she’d slept at all. After Joe and then Nina had left, she’d sat shaking in the studio, not knowing what to do, feeling as though her life had collapsed around her. She had managed to destroy something more wonderful than she’d ever imagined with Joe O’Malley. Nina Fallon was disgusted with her. And the worst of it all was, she had made up her mind not to give Alo Brady the information he was looking for. Neither Nina nor Joe had believed her, and she couldn’t really blame them.

That being the case, she thought, maybe she should just give Alo what he wanted. Because the one thing she was pretty sure of was that she wouldn’t have a job with the
Central News
any longer. Paudie might have forgiven her impromptu staking-out of his house, but this was entirely different. This was really personal. So with no job and no prospects, why shouldn’t she get totally behind Alo? Besides, despite everything, his story might be true. Just because Joe made her feel the way she did didn’t mean he couldn’t be involved in anything dodgy. Just because she didn’t believe it didn’t mean it hadn’t happened. She’d written about
corruption in sport before. She violently opposed corrupt clubs, managers, players and organisations. It was no different in business. If Paudie was corrupt, he deserved what was coming to him. And if Joe was corrupt, so did he.

She went into the shower and spent a long time allowing the water to massage the back of her neck. When she got out, she made herself a coffee, took a couple of Nurofen and started to write. Her fingers flew over the keyboard, tapping as furiously as they ever had when she’d been at the
City Scope
and writing match reports or interviews with sports stars. A further hour and she was finished. Now all she had to do was send it to Alo. He’d be very, very pleased with her. And her name would be up in media lights again.

Sean Fallon came to Ardbawn the minute he got Nina’s phone call. When he’d first seen her name appear on his phone he’d thought that she was ringing him to say that it was time for him to move back home. When she started gabbling on about Sheridan Gray finding the envelope with Elva O’Malley’s note in it, he nearly had a fit.

He made it to Ardbawn in record time and clattered into the kitchen, where Nina was sitting at the table, the coloured box of family mementos in front of her. She was looking at Alan’s first tooth. Sean had thought it was grisly to keep it, but when they’d taken it from beneath their sleeping son’s pillow and substituted money instead, Nina hadn’t wanted to throw it out. (Fortunately, he thought, she hadn’t been quite as nostalgic about their children’s subsequent dental losses.)

‘I can’t believe you kept all that shit,’ he said angrily. ‘What were you thinking?’

‘They were wonderful paintings. It seemed wrong to destroy them.’

‘They were a demented woman’s daubs,’ snapped Sean. He exhaled sharply. ‘So this reporter is involved in some big story about the O’Malleys and she was actually working on his paper while she was researching it?’

‘I’m not sure exactly,’ said Nina. ‘But the bottom line is that it’s all sure to come out. You, Elva, everything.’

‘What is it with people and their prurient interest in other people’s personal lives!’ Sean was outraged. ‘Anything about Elva and me is just gossip, nothing to do with O’Malley and his damn empire.’

‘I know. But people prefer gossip to news.’

‘She’ll ruin my career!’ cried Sean.

‘I doubt that.’ Nina looked rueful. ‘Isn’t all publicity supposed to be good when you’re a celebrity? You’re doing OK, aren’t you, even if you’re currently in a coma. What with the documentary and everything.’

‘Yes, but—’

‘And your affair with Lulu didn’t hurt it, did it?’

‘I’ll have to talk to my publicist,’ said Sean. ‘We need be spinning any story that’s out there to our advantage.’

‘There’s an advantage in you having had an affair with a woman who died in tragic circumstances and happened to be married to the town’s most influential businessman, who’s being investigated for unethical dealings?’

‘We can definitely make it one.’ Sean looked thoughtful. ‘Paint Elva as a victim too.’

‘Sean!’ Nina was scandalised.

‘All right, all right. Sorry. But the thing is, we’ll emerge from this as a strong couple,’ he said firmly. ‘Committed to our marriage.’

‘Will we?’

‘They’ll think you’re a saint.’

‘They’ll think I’m a doormat.’

‘Not at all. You did the right thing before. You’re doing the right thing now. We’re happy together, Nina. Our marriage works.’ Sean sounded self-satisfied.

‘Because I forgave you.’

‘Look, that thing with Elva . . . we talked about it. She was a deranged bunny-boiler and that’s what I’ll get the publicist to say.’

‘Deranged?’ Nina shook her head. ‘She was very distressed. But you can’t call her deranged. Think about Paudie and his family.’

‘If Paudie’s up the creek for giving bribes or whatever, he has more to worry about than having his dead wife called names. I’m thinking about us. And I’m thinking that we should be able to get that reporter to write something favourable to us. You know her, Nina. You can make her do the right thing.’

Nina sighed deeply, then shrugged. ‘As far as I’m concerned, she can write what she likes.’

‘Nina!’

‘I don’t care any more, Sean. I don’t care about Paudie or Elva or you.’

‘You don’t mean that. Look, I know I hurt you. I know I made a mess of things. But it won’t happen again.’

‘You said that after Elva. You swore,’ she reminded him. ‘But Lulu still happened.’

‘If there’s sixteen years between all my affairs, then you should feel OK about it,’ he said. ‘I’ll be too old then to care.’

‘That’s not the point,’ said Nina. ‘I can’t help loving you, Sean, but I don’t trust you any more. And that’s not enough for a marriage.’

‘Nina, darling.’ His tone was persuasive. ‘I know it’s been a bit of a shock having all this rehashed, but I know you don’t mean that. Love has always been enough for us. It always will be.’

‘Not any more,’ she said firmly.

‘You’re being silly.’

‘No, I’m not.’

His eyes hardened. ‘Remember the solicitor’s letter?’ he asked. ‘We have joint assets.’

‘I know.’

‘You’ll lose out.’

‘Oh, Sean.’ She looked at him regretfully. ‘I think I already have.’

The sound of birdsong woke Sheridan early the following morning, but she’d slept fitfully anyway. She got up and dressed in her jogging clothes. She’d always gone for a run when she needed to clear her head, and she very definitely needed to clear her head now.

She’d spent a lot of time the previous evening reading what she’d written for Alo Brady. She knew that it was good, insightful journalism. She knew it was well written and concise. Possibly one of the best things she’d ever done. Definitely something to make her name with.

She closed the door of the studio behind her and ran slowly down the driveway before turning on to the road. She ran the route she’d run before, the one that would bring her past the sports pitches. She was sure that there’d be a match later that morning, but she knew that they wouldn’t have started by the time she passed by. She kept her pace steady and even, listening to her own breath as she ran, allowing the rhythm to take over.

It would be a nice day, she thought. The dreariness of winter had almost imperceptibly slid into spring. There was
heat in the sun at last. She felt it on her shoulders as she put more effort into maintaining her pace because she’d reached the part of the road that was a steady incline. She liked the feeling of stretching her legs, she liked feeling her heart working harder.

The car passed her and then stopped. She stopped too, jogging on the spot as she waited to see what the driver would do next.

The roof of the convertible was down and he turned in the seat to look back at her.

‘Get in.’ It was an invitation, not a command.

‘I’m hot and sweaty again,’ she said. ‘You probably don’t want me in your car.’

‘Please,’ said Joe.

She took a deep breath and opened the passenger door.

Joe put the car into gear and eased up the road.

‘Where are we going?’ she asked.

‘A place I know.’

He drove for about fifteen minutes, then turned down a narrow byway and stopped. They were beside the Bawnee River. It rippled past them, the clear water sparkling beneath the morning sun.

‘This was my favourite place after my mother died,’ said Joe. ‘I used to come here when I wanted to be on my own. It’s not that far from the house when you cut through the fields.’

Sheridan recognised it. Elva had painted this place, the winding river and the canopy of trees. She stood in silence, thinking about the other woman meeting Nina’s husband here. In love, perhaps, but on the road to destruction.

The silence between them grew. Sheridan waited for Joe
to speak. Waiting was something she was good at. When she’d interviewed people for the
City Scope
, she’d often allowed periods of silence, during which the interviewee nearly always spoke, usually volunteering information that she never would have got if she’d kept asking questions.

‘I spoke to my father.’

Sheridan tensed. She’d known he would tell Paudie about Alo’s investigation. She’d known that would have implications for her too.

‘He hasn’t been involved in any corrupt deals.’

She said nothing.

‘He admits that there was a lot – maybe an inordinate amount – of corporate hospitality and entertainment.’

She raised an eyebrow.

‘Which,’ Joe said, ‘we don’t normally do. But it seemed appropriate at the time.’

She nodded.

‘So we’ll be rebutting everything in that story except some grandiose dinner bills that maybe shouldn’t have happened.’

‘Fair enough,’ she said.

‘But your part in it . . . the background stuff . . . the personal stuff that you can add . . .’ He looked at her pleadingly. ‘You can write whatever you like about the business and it’ll be up to us to make our case, but I’m begging you – whatever you say about my mother, can you please, please not make her out to be a selfish, uncaring bitch? Because she wasn’t.’

‘Did you talk to your father about her too?’ asked Sheridan.

‘How could I not? It was so much to take in. I couldn’t
believe that he’d kept it from me. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t guessed either.’

‘We never think of our parents as people with complicated lives,’ said Sheridan.

‘Oh, I’ve always thought my dad’s life was complicated. I just never realised how complicated my mother’s was. Dad told me everything he could about it. He was tolerant of her because he loved her so much. I know you’ve only heard about the unhappy side of her, and the fact that she was cheating on Dad, yet when she was with us we always seemed to be the most important people in her life. She was the kind of person who lived it to the full, you know. She could get excited about the littlest of things and turn them into great adventures. She wasn’t easy to be with all the time, but she wasn’t the kind of uncaring woman that you’d like her to be.’