City Lives (37 page)

He wouldn’t commit suicide in the middle of a case. It wasn’t his way. It was too untidy.

‘There must be a mistake. Richard wouldn’t leave a case unfinished.’ She lifted her tear-stained face from Luke’s shoulder.

‘Love, there’s no mistake and when you’re ready you’ll have to identify him. You’re his next of kin. Then they have to do a post-mortem because of the circumstances
of his death,’ Luke said quietly.

‘Oh! Oh!’ Caroline hung her head as his words sank in. Richard really was dead. She was going to have to identify him. She had to face it. She couldn’t run away from it. She
took a deep breath.

‘Will you come with me, Luke?’

‘Of course I will. Will we go now?’

She nodded silently.

‘This way, Mrs Yates.’ The staff nurse led them out.

All Caroline was conscious of, on that long walk to the room where Richard lay cold and still on a gurney, was the pressure and strength of Luke’s hand in hers. She gripped it tight and
tighter still as she looked down on the face of her dead husband. His eyes were closed, his cheeks a strange waxy colour. His lips bluey-white. There was nothing left of the Richard she knew.
Nothing of the Richard with whom she had shared such a turbulent life.

Where was his spirit now, she wondered, hardly able to breathe with grief and regret. Had Charles met him on the threshold of his next great journey? Could he see the whole picture of his life
now and know the reasons for everything that had ever happened to him? Was he finally at peace? Had he seen the face of God? Had he felt the most pure and unconditional love that was the birthright
of every soul that was ever created?

‘Goodbye, Richard. I’m sorry,’ she whispered as she traced her finger gently along his cold cheek. ‘Be at peace.’

A thought struck her. Deeper dread enveloped her.

‘Does his mother know?’ she asked Luke.

He shook his head. ‘I don’t imagine so. Who would know to tell her? No-one would be told until you were. You’re the next of kin.’

‘She wouldn’t want to see me. She wouldn’t want to find out that Richard is dead from me,’ Caroline fretted as Luke led her from the room.

‘Why don’t you ring the nursing home and ask them to tell her doctor to break it to her when he considers the time is right. At least she’s in the best possible place if she
takes a turn or anything,’ Luke suggested.

‘What am I going to do about the funeral? She might want to arrange it.’

‘He was your husband,’ Luke pointed out.

‘You know the sort of marriage we had, Luke,’ Caroline said miserably. ‘And anyway, the last thing I want to do is to fight with that woman over Richard’s funeral. It
would be so unseemly. It would be just like her to die for spite and then I’d have her on my conscience as well.’

‘Caroline, this was not your fault. You can’t let yourself think like that,’ Luke reiterated.

‘Oh Luke, if you were in my shoes you wouldn’t say that.’ Caroline started to cry again.

Luke put his arms around her and held her close, not knowing what to do or say to console her.

‘Come on,’ he said after a while. ‘Let’s get you home to bed. You won’t have to worry about the funeral for a day or two yet. They won’t release the body to
you until the post-mortem has been conducted.’

‘If the shock of his death doesn’t kill her, knowing that he committed suicide might. Sarah will never get over that. She always worried about what the family and neighbours would
say. They’ll have plenty to talk about now. And so will the crowd in the law library. The gossips will have a field day when the news gets out,’ she said bitterly.

‘What do you care about any of that, Caroline? Those people know nothing and it’s none of their business. Don’t give them a second thought,’ Luke advised as they reached
the room where Devlin and Maggie were waiting.

‘You must stay with us for as long as you want, Caroline,’ Devlin said. ‘Come on home. It’s late.’

‘I suppose I should ring my dad and the boys, as well as the nursing home.’ Caroline tried to sort out her priorities.

‘Caroline, there’s nothing anyone can do tonight. Why don’t you try and get some sleep, and phone people tomorrow,’ Maggie suggested.

‘Yeah, you’re right. It’s not going to make any difference now. But I’ll phone the nursing home. I don’t want Mrs Yates to say that I kept Richard’s death
from her,’ Caroline said tiredly.

‘OK, but we can do that at home,’ Devlin said firmly.

‘I’ll drive your car home, Caroline.’ Maggie held out her hand for the keys. Caroline gave them to her without argument. She felt she was in some sort of dank fog. She
couldn’t think straight, let alone drive a car.

‘Maggie, you’re welcome to stay the night too if you want. We’ve loads of room and Terry wasn’t expecting you home until tomorrow evening.’ Devlin looked hopefully
at her friend. Maggie was great in a crisis. She always seemed to know what to do and what to say.

‘Of course I’ll stay. I’ll give Terry a ring just to let him know. Come on, let’s get you and Caroline home. It’s been a long day.’

None of them could argue with that.

As Caroline walked out into the drizzly cold night she knew the nightmare was just beginning. And a major player in the nightmare would be the mother-in-law from hell.

Sarah patted her hair into place and lay back against her pillows ready to receive a visit from her consultant. An unexpected visit, to be sure. He didn’t usually call on
a Sunday. It must have been after her little turn following that upstart Gleeson’s visit. And then of course there was Richard and the upset he’d caused her. Sarah’s mouth
tightened into a thin line. He was ready to put her into a home, the ungrateful pup. She’d had to ask the nurse for extra sleeping-tablets after that upset.

She could hear Mr Collins’s firm brisk footsteps on the lino’d corridor. She recognized his walk. She’d been listening out for it here and in the hospital for weeks. The
consultants always had a very decisive confident sort of walk, Mr Collins especially so.

He was rather early. It was only five to eight. Her breakfast tray was still in the room. They really ought to come at a more civilized hour, she thought crossly, as the footsteps drew nearer.
Should she close her eyes and pretend to be asleep? She certainly didn’t want to give him the false impression that she was as bright as a button. She fluttered her eyelids closed, heard the
knock on the door and then the matron’s voice calling her name.

Her eyes flew open. Matron, too, on a Sunday. She was getting the treatment. And rightly so, Sarah thought, extremely pleased at this extra bonus.

‘Good morning, Matron. Good morning Mr Collins.’ She made sure not to sound too bright.

‘Good morning, dear. How are you today?’ Matron asked.

‘Not too bad, Matron. Yesterday wasn’t the best of days.’ Sarah smiled wanly.

‘But a little stronger today?’ Matron queried.

‘A little,’ Sarah agreed.

‘Now dear, we want you to be very brave. Mr Collins and I are with you but we have some bad news for you, which I know you wouldn’t want us to keep from you any longer.’ The
matron gripped her hand tightly.

Sarah suddenly felt very frightened.

‘What is it?’ she whispered and her heart began to pound. She was going to die. They were going to tell her that her illness was terminal.

‘It’s about Richard—’ Matron began.

‘Richard!’ snapped Sarah, relieved beyond measure that Matron wasn’t giving her a death sentence and annoyed that the nun had given her such a fright. Richard was probably in a
huff because she’d told him to get out and he wasn’t going to visit. She’d been half expecting that, she thought, as she lay back against the pillows.

‘I’m afraid Richard died last night,’ the matron said gently.

Sarah looked at her uncomprehendingly.

‘Did you hear me, dear? Your son died last night. We got the phone call late and decided against waking you. I’m very, very sorry. If there is anything we can do, don’t
hesitate to ask.’

Sarah looked at the matron and then at her consultant. He had taken her other hand in his. Richard was dead. Her Richard. He couldn’t be. It was all a big mistake. She tried to open her
mouth to tell them so but she couldn’t speak. She tried again. She saw Mr Collins looking at her with concern. She saw his lips moving but she couldn’t hear what he was saying. A great
roaring in her ears almost deafened her and then blackness engulfed her and she knew no more.

‘She’s still in a coma then?’ Devlin said to Caroline as they drove to the funeral parlour to finalize the arrangements for Richard’s funeral.

‘Yeah! They don’t know if she’ll come out of it. It was a massive stroke. It’s so ironic. She’s alive still, and Richard’s dead partly because of her. If she
had died after her heart attack Richard would still be alive. He’d be in Boston and he’d be happy,’ Caroline said flatly.

‘Well, at least you got to make the funeral arrangements,’ Devlin murmured.

‘And I’m glad of that, Dev,’ Caroline said vehemently. ‘She would have wanted him buried out in Sutton in the family plot. He’d never have got away from her. This
way he’ll be as free as a bird with the one he always wanted to be with. And if she comes out of the coma and objects, it will be too late and there’ll be nothing she can do about
it.’

When Caroline had got the news that her mother-in-law had suffered a stroke on hearing the news of Richard’s death, she had decided there and then to take charge of the funeral
arrangements despite what any of the Yates relatives might say.

Once Richard’s body was released for burial she had arranged for him to be cremated in Glasnevin. She knew if Sarah had been conscious she would have freaked.

Sarah didn’t believe in cremations, even if the Church now allowed them. If a burial was good enough for the Lord it was good enough for everyone else, she was fond of saying. Sarah would
never have allowed Richard to be cremated.

But Caroline knew exactly what she was going to do with his ashes. She was going to mix them with the tiny container of ashes that Richard had kept after he had scattered the rest of them on
Killiney Hill as Charles had requested. It had been their favourite place. They had walked it’s length and breadth many times together. Now they would be there together for eternity. Free and
at peace.

She would do this one last thing for Richard, no matter what the objections.

They arrived at the funeral parlour to find a photographer lurking around the building.

Devlin cursed under her breath. But Caroline sat motionless and expressionless as the flash bulb went off in her face.

‘Bastards!’ Devlin swore as she swerved and drove past. The news of Richard’s suicide had been leaked, and reporters and photographers had staked out Caroline’s apartment
and phoned constantly looking for information.

She had blanked them out completely. Detached herself from everything except the need to arrange a farewell to her husband that would have been everything he wished.

The undertaker was kindness and compassion personified and Caroline was happy to take advice from him. Between him and Luke they had organized everything and taken much of the burden from her
shoulders.

The removal of the remains from the funeral parlour was taking place the following evening, followed by Mass and the cremation service the next day. She would keep going until it was over and
then she could collapse in a heap, she promised herself. But she had to keep going. Her greatest fear was that Sarah would revive and raise an objection to the cremation.

Sarah’s brother, Richard’s uncle Gordon, had told Caroline in no uncertain terms that cremation was against the wishes of the entire Yates family and that he was seriously thinking
of taking legal advice on the matter.

‘I’ll get an injunction to stop the cremation,’ he threatened.

‘You do that, Gordon, and it will be all over the papers. The family name will be disgraced even more,’ Caroline snapped, knowing exactly where the family Achilles’ heel was.
It was bad enough having news of Richard’s suicide and the subsequent nasty conjectures plastered all over the newspapers. It would be an even worse nightmare to give the tabloids the juicy
titbit that there was a family row going on about the burial.

Gordon Yates had stomped out of Devlin’s apartment red-faced and puffing, but there’d been no more talk of injunctions. And Caroline had felt a fierce sense of triumph on
Richard’s behalf. She’d heard of injunctions to stop burials and cremations. If Gordon had gone to court she didn’t know what would have happened. But her threat had seen him off.
Bullies always backed down when confronted.

‘The cheek of him, anyway,’ she said to Devlin indignantly. ‘He never even went in to see Sarah after her heart attack. He was no help to Richard at all. He didn’t want
to know. So stuff him.’

‘He’ll be first into the church, you wait and see,’ Devlin prophesied. And she was right.

Gordon and his pasty-faced wife and their four pasty-faced sons were seated in the front row of the church when Caroline arrived with her father and brothers in the black limo, having followed
Richard’s hearse from the funeral parlour.

She was affronted. How dare they!

Without pause she genuflected and slipped into the front seat of the first row on the other side of the aisle. There was an audible gasp from the mourners behind Gordon’s pew. Caroline had
set the cat among the pigeons. Whom did they go to pay their respects to? The wife or the family?

Caroline couldn’t care less. She knew that most of the people in the packed church were there out of a sense of duty or curiosity. Richard had had no close friends. He was respected but
not particularly liked in his profession, and the rows full of the
crème de la crème
of Dublin’s movers and shakers, with their faces suitably arranged in masks of
solemnity, impressed her not one whit.

How sad it was, she thought, as the priest began the prayers, that there were so few in the church who would truly mourn Richard. To go through life and not be mourned at his passing, and to
have touched so few lives, was a sad reflection on his own existence.