Happy Ever After (10 page)

Tom Baxter sat in his car outside his mother’s house, drumming his fingers impatiently against the leather steering wheel.

Where the bloody hell was the woman, and why wasn’t she answering her damn mobile phone? He’d tried to ring Judith’s, but that was turned off too, and he vaguely remembered Lily saying the nurses had told her to keep it off so she would get the rest she needed.

He’d been at a business meeting in a hotel at the airport and, seeing as he was on the Northside and not too far away, and rather than endure the M50 rush hour on a Friday evening, he’d decided to call in to see his mother and see if she was still managing all right while Judith was in hospital. She might give him a bite to eat while he was at it. He was starving, and she usually had some tasty scones or a cream sponge on the go. Glenda, his wife, was not one for baking, unfortunately. Spending money was more her forte, he thought caustically, remembering the row they’d had that morning about her spending 200 euro on a pair of ridiculous shoes with heels like pipe cleaners for a charity lunch she was going to. It was all very well keeping up with the Joneses, but surely she could have bought a pair of shoes for half the price.

‘If you want me to go to these things, I’m not going looking like a pauper. Those shoes are cheap compared to what some of those flashy ones wear, believe me,’ Glenda had snapped. ‘You can’t be seen in the same outfit twice. You know that as well as I do. That’s the game, and that’s the way it’s played, and it’s stressful enough without you giving me grief.’

She was right, he supposed: if you wanted to mix with movers and shakers, you had to act the part and dress for the part. When he’d first met her, all those years ago, she bought all her clothes in Dunnes Stores, and he’d thought she looked lovely. Now, it was all designer labels and posh boutiques. It was just as well she had that part-time job in the boutique and got a discount off her clothes, because she spent a small fortune on them. It was hard keeping up the lifestyle they’d become accustomed to in the boom years. A big house, huge gas-guzzler of a car, private schooling for the kids, property abroad. It had been a dream come true, but now the economy was slowing down, inflation was rising, his properties in Spain were dead in the water, and the bottom had fallen out of the Spanish market. You couldn’t give apartments away there; the rent he was getting was far from covering the mortgages. His investments and pensions were being hammered, the stockmarket was a disaster area, and his own alarm and security installation business was beginning to feel the pinch. Tom felt more than a little oppressed sitting in his BMW, flicking a piece of lint off his Louis Copeland suit.

He eyed his mother’s redbrick house with a detached eye. Despite the slump in property, it would still make a good price when it was sold. It was well kept. He had to give it to Judith that she wasn’t letting the place go downhill and, not that he was wishing for his mother’s imminent demise, he was certainly banking on the guts of a hundred and fifty thousand, minimum, for his share out of the place eventually. And God knew he could do with it. That was, if Judith didn’t get her claws into their mother. That was his greatest worry.

OK, he admitted, she’d looked after Lily, but she’d also had a house over her head rent free all these years, allowing her to save a fortune, if she wanted, and that wasn’t to be sneezed at. Why should she get the house, lock, stock and barrel? Cecily had to be considered also, he thought self-righteously. There were three children in the Baxter family. It would be patently unfair to single one out, even if Lily felt she owed Judith a debt.

If only he could get a look at the will. Judith had caught him snooping around one day when Lily was in hospital getting her cataract done, and they’d had a vicious row. They’d never made it up and, if Judith had died after her car crash, she’d have gone to her grave estranged from him.

He sighed. He was glad his sister hadn’t died, of course, but the truth was they had never got on and it was unlikely they ever would. But, they could be civil to each other, as long as she didn’t try and pull a fast one. He glanced in his rear-view mirror and saw Lily marching smartly along the road towards him. She looked extremely well, he noted, not at all like someone who was in danger of kicking the bucket any day soon. It was a bit late for her to be coming home from her afternoon visit to Judith; it was gone six. He wondered where she’d been. She really had come out of her shell since the accident. He opened the door and got out of the car. ‘Mother, where on earth were you? I’ve been trying to ring you,’ he exclaimed jovially.

Was it his imagination, or did a flicker of guilt flash across Lily’s features? Hadn’t she looked at him in dismay before recovering her equanimity?

‘I had business to attend to. I didn’t know you were coming. You never let me know,’ she said tightly.

‘What sort of business?’ he inquired, trying to keep his tone light.

‘Business.
My
business,’ said Lily sharply, before inserting her key in the lock of the front door.

Tom followed her into the house. He wasn’t at all happy. Lily was up to something and he’d very much like to know
exactly
what it was. He was going to have to spend some time with her and keep a close eye on things.

‘Any chance of a cuppa before I go?’ he asked, following his mother into the newly done-up kitchen. His sister had painted it before her accident.

‘Every chance,’ Lily said briskly. ‘Fill the kettle there and put one in the pot for me, I want to get out of these shoes. There’s a fresh-baked cream sponge in the cake tin,’ she instructed as she took off her jacket and went out to the hall to hang it up. Tom stared after her. She’d always been bossy, but there was a new confidence in her which he’d never seen before.

‘So where were you?’ he tried again as she came into the kitchen wearing her navy and pink slippers and tying an apron around her waist.

‘Doing some business. I told you. Now, if you’re thinking of going to visit Judith, seeing as you’re over this side of the city, I don’t know if you should go in tonight. Your aunt and cousin, and Cecily, are going, as well as one of her friends, so that’s a lot for one night. She’s not up to too many visitors, so I think you should wait until tomorrow.’ His mother took the knife off him just as he was about to cut a chunk of cream sponge and gave him a slice far smaller than what he would have cut for himself.

Bloody hell. I’m not traipsing back over here tomorrow, thought Tom crossly as he made the tea. He came to a decision. It was time to act and stop dithering. ‘I was thinking, seeing as Judith painted the kitchen, how about if I get a painter in to do your bedroom and hers? It’s been a while since they’ve been done. We could give Judith a surprise,’ he offered expansively.

Lily looked at him, astonished. ‘Well, that’s very good of you,’ she said slowly. ‘Let me have a think about it.’

‘Well, don’t think about it too much. They don’t keep you in hospital for very long these days. By the way, your mobile phone is off,’ he said casually, and she fell into his trap, as he hoped she would.

‘I know. I turned it off when I went in to see the bank manager.’ Lily sat down and took a welcome sip of tea.

‘What were you going to see him for?’ Tom was all ears. He knew he’d get it out of her one way or the other, eventually.

‘Oh, this and that,’ Lily said offhandedly, but she had two dull, red spots on her cheeks, and Tom knew his instincts were absolutely right. Something was going on, and the sooner he got to the bottom of it the better. If he had the painters in, he’d get a chance to have a look around. Lily would have to go and visit Judith, and he would make it his business to have a good poke around when she wasn’t there. It was terrible that he had to go spying on his mother but, if she wasn’t going to be open with him, that was his only option. He had an inheritance to protect, and protect it he would.

Lily watched her son drive down the road in his big flashy car and bit her lip. She’d let it slip about going to see the bank manager; it was out before she knew it. Now he’d know something was going on. He’d been asking her nosy questions about her will when she was in hospital a few months back and, today, he was wondering what business she was doing at the bank. She knew full well he was concerned about who she was going to leave the house to. And he was right to be concerned, she thought grimly, closing the door and going into her sitting room. Her priority was Judith, and Tom could go and take a great big running jump in the lake for himself if he thought he was entitled to as much as his sister.

Lily knew there’d be a show of grief at her funeral, but that would be precisely it: a show. After the burial, he’d hardly give her a thought, and it sickened her to think that he was plotting and planning while she was still alive. It was obvious as far as he was concerned that the sooner she went the better. She couldn’t imagine Mrs Meadows’s sons behaving in such a fashion. They would truly grieve their mother.

She sat in her high-backed chair staring out through pristine net curtains and saw the shadows of evening encroach as the sun filtered dappled light through the trees. Two small children were playing hopscotch on the pavement across the road, and a young couple who had moved in further along the street strolled by hand in hand, laughing at some private joke.

She and Ted had been a young couple once, and their three young children had played hopscotch on the pavement. It seemed like another lifetime ago, and it was too sad to think back and regret all that she had lost because of her edgy, uptight personality. She had run away from life all her life and had missed out on so much because of it. Regret was such a dreary, energy-sapping emotion, it would get her nowhere; and she shouldn’t dwell on the past. She was doing her best to make amends. She could do no more.

Lily yawned. She was very tired. It had been a long and stressful day. But at least she’d achieved something positive by her visit to the bank. That was good, she lauded herself, trying to take the edge off her feelings of failure, remembering all the days when she’d sat, a prisoner in this room, afraid to go anywhere on her own.

If Tom could plot and plan, so could she. She might very well take him up on his offer to have the upstairs rooms painted. She’d make sure that the painter picked the same shades of cream and ochre for Judith’s room that were on the walls already. Her daughter liked those colours, and they suited that room, which got the evening sun. It would be a surprise for her. And, even if the time was coming when she would be looking for a home of her own, it would be good for her to know that there was always a room for her with Lily if ever she wanted it.

‘You’re doing very well, Lily,’ she murmured to herself approvingly, striving to keep her spirits up. ‘Keep going, and do this one good thing in your life.’

She yawned again. She gave a wry little smile. What did they say about people who ended up talking to themselves? That would be right up Tom’s alley. Her son might think he was smarter than she was and that she was only a timid old lady and not to be reckoned with, but he was in for a surprise. Forewarned was forearmed, and he’d soon find that to his cost.

Judith’s heart sank to her boots as she limped slowly along the crowded hospital corridor and saw Debbie Adams and Ciara Williams walking towards her. She had to do little walks twice a day and had decided to go for one when Jillian was leaving. Her eyes darted right and left, wondering if there was some escape route she could take, but it was too late. They had seen her, and Ciara was giving an embarrassed little wave. Judith knew in her heart and soul that this visit was for form’s sake and nothing more. She wondered how the pair had been nominated to come because, certainly, Debbie, she was sure, would not have come voluntarily. Judith knew full well that she was not a popular manager, and it rarely bothered her. She did her job, supervising the busy salaries section she ran in the big insurance company she worked for, and she did it well, by pushing her staff and keeping them on their toes. Mistakes could not be made in her department and, if they were, they landed at her door. She had to keep her distance from her staff; she was not their friend, she was their boss, and it was in everyone’s best interest that she and they remembered it.

Judith felt strangely vulnerable knowing that they had seen her, hobbling, leaning on a crutch, her arm in a sling, in her dressing gown and slippers, with no make-up on and the roots of her hair in need of a touch-up. She was never less than perfectly groomed at work and always wore a smart business suit. It was her armour and, now she was without it, she felt unnerved.

She had dreaded the ‘visit from work’ and had hoped it wouldn’t happen until further down the line, when she was more in control of herself. She should have told Janice Harris, the human resources manager, when she’d been talking to her on the phone to give her an update on her situation, that it was family visits only for the moment.

‘Hello, Judith,’ Debbie said warily. ‘How are you feeling?’

‘Well, I’ve been better,’ Judith said wryly, wishing she didn’t have to bring them into her room but not feeling fit enough to go down to the coffee shop on the ground floor.

‘My God, Judith, you took a bashing all right,’ Ciara said cheerfully, waving a bouquet of flowers at her. ‘From all of us, with our best wishes. Where would you like us to put them?’

Up your arse
, Judith would love to have said, and then felt ashamed of her utter ungraciousness. They wanted to be here as little as she wanted them to be here, but façades had to be kept up. ‘This is my room. There’s a vase on the window, you can fill it at the sink in the bathroom,’ she said calmly, leading the way into her small private room.

‘Oh, what a fabulous view,’ Debbie exclaimed, making her way over to the window. She handed the vase to Ciara. ‘There you go.’

‘Thanks,’ her friend replied and busied herself filling it and then arranging the flowers, glad to have something to do.

‘They’re very nice,’ Judith said politely, easing herself down into the armchair. She was damned if she was going to struggle into bed in front of the two of them, but she ached after her walk and would have liked nothing better than to stretch out and wilt.