Authors: Marita Conlon-McKenna
‘I have to give it to my Kitty, she’s a fine cook!’
Kerrie O’Neill glanced quickly at her screen, seeing how well Fintan Sweeney’s portfolio was doing. Today shares in Eire Air were up, as they were about to announce a merger with the major supplier of wind-energy platforms in Kerry. Fintan Sweeney, one of her major clients, was already in, but a further investment if there was a closing dip would be worth it as it was a company he’d expressed an interest in.
She checked the latest share prices and decided to hold steady for the next few hours. Running over the numbers on Global ITI she saw it had lost another 0.5 per cent market share to rivals, and she knew her boss Sven Johnnson would not be happy. She needed to find out what the hell was going on over there. She grabbed her latte … it was cold. She needed another one! She looked around to see if any of the interns were around, and spotted Eva Macken busy checking the screen.
‘Eva,’ she mouthed and held up her cup. The twenty-two-year-old finance student copped on immediately, and disappeared to the canteen to get her a fresh one. She smiled. Eva reminded her a bit of herself when she had joined
Barrington Holdings, bright and intelligent and too eager for her own good. Kerrie had started at the company six years ago, one of an elite group of ten finance graduates hand-picked by Sven for a demanding career as an investment manager in one of Ireland’s top asset-management companies. Kerrie O’Neill mightn’t have had the same pedigree and background as some of her more wealthy colleagues, but she was the one who had graduated top of her Master’s class in UCD.
‘It is a dog-eat-dog world out there,’ Sven had told her when he’d hired her. ‘And I suspect that you are, like me, a mongrel who will rise to the top.’
‘Here’s your latte,’ announced Eva, putting the paper cup carefully on her desk.
‘Thanks!’ Kerrie said, making a mental note to try to give Eva something more interesting to do over the next few days.
Today, Kerrie had back-to-back meetings with Sven and the senior managers about services they should be offering to their loyal customers, who trusted them with their investment portfolios and ways to promote them.
She was sipping her coffee when Matt phoned.
‘Kerrie, are you coming straight home from work tonight?’ he asked.
‘Yeah. Why?’
‘Mum and Dad phoned, and they are in Dublin! They want to meet me and are coming over to the apartment to have dinner with us. They were meant to stay at Georgina’s tonight, but the kids are sick with a vomiting bug, so I said that they could stay with us, if that’s OK?’
‘Have dinner and stay with us tonight?’ Kerrie repeated, appalled. She couldn’t imagine anything worse than having Maureen and Dermot landed on them. It certainly wasn’t OK. His parents were hard-going at the best of times, but to have them staying in the apartment!
‘Why do they have to stay with us, Matt?’ she quizzed. ‘Can’t they book into a hotel?’
‘I’m not having my folks go to a hotel when we have loads of room,’ he said stubbornly.
‘Then why don’t we all just go to some nice restaurant, eat out?’ she suggested, trying to keep her voice level. ‘I’ll book a table.’
‘No, don’t,’ said Matt. ‘Apparently, Dad really needs to talk to me about something, so he asked if we could just stay in. I thought maybe you could cook for the four of us.’
‘OK,’ said Kerrie, trying to hide her dismay, and wondering what the hell was going on with his parents.
‘Listen, I’m going to be stuck here for a while, so maybe you could stop off in Superquinn and get some food, and I’ll see you at home later … thanks,’ Matt said, putting down the phone.
Kerrie’s first thought was that she could stop at Polly’s Pantry on the way home and pick up something to heat up, but then she realized that it was far too risky: Maureen Hennessy would be snooping around her kitchen, and might discover what she had done. No, she’d just have to cook something. Taking out her iPhone she searched for her Cookery School recipe folder and opened it. There must be something there that she had made with Alice that she could manage to cook again.
*
She stopped off in the supermarket on the way home, piling her groceries into the back of her car. Hopefully she hadn’t forgotten anything.
The apartment was spotless, so at least she didn’t have to worry about that, she thought, as she began to prepare the meal.
Think what Alice would make, she had told herself, and had opted to begin with Maryland crab cakes. The combination of breadcrumbs with crabmeat, spices and egg was simple enough to do, and the cakes looked perfect as she popped them in the fridge to chill. Medallions of pork with a cider sauce was something she should be able to manage, and when she had made it in class a few weeks ago it had turned out way better than she had expected it to. She was serving mash with it: unlike her previous disaster, this time it had a perfect creamy consistency. For dessert she was really keeping it simple, and had opted for the easy apricot crumble they’d made a few weeks back, mixing the flour, brown sugar and oats together before adding the butter to make the crumble topping, and sprinkling it over the halved apricots in the ovenproof dish.
With everything in the kitchen fairly well organized, she changed quickly and freshened up, hoping that Matt would at least get home before his parents arrived.
Maureen and Dermot were looking around the apartment when Matt appeared. They had put their overnight bags in the spare double bedroom, which was decorated in teal, white and red, with a series of Japanese prints on the wall behind the bed. Kerrie gave them extra pillows and left the grey wool throw along the bottom of the bed in case they felt cold during the night.
‘I see you two have gone for that modern minimalist look everywhere,’ remarked Maureen, as she wandered around the apartment.
‘I don’t like clutter,’ admitted Kerrie, ‘and I prefer clean lines.’
‘Kerrie’s a bit of a perfectionist,’ teased Matt, arriving in and greeting his mother.
‘Well, that’s quite obvious,’ Maureen said, inspecting their bedroom and hot press and bathroom.
‘Well, I like it, and I think you’ve got yourselves a fine-sized property in a really good location,’ remarked Dermot, standing out on their large balcony and surveying their surroundings.
‘Matt, get your mum and dad a drink, I’m going to start cooking dinner.’
Kerrie was glad to escape to the kitchen and let Matt deal with them. It was a Thursday night, they both had to work in the morning, and what the hell were the Hennessys up to, landing themselves on them like this?
She tried to remain composed as she cooked. Nothing was burning! Nothing was falling apart! Nothing was exploding or disintegrating before her eyes! She couldn’t believe it as she placed the perfect golden crab cakes on a small bed of mixed leaves with a little dill and mayonnaise dressing and called the others to the table.
The table, with its expensive tableware and beautiful Louise Kennedy designed glasses looked great, and they had an amazing view from the ceiling-to-floor glass windows out over the redeveloped docks area, which now housed the
Grand Canal Theatre and the impressive Grand Canal Square, with its long red rods of light illuminating the place.
‘Well, that’s some scene!’ said Dermot. ‘You could be in the likes of New York or London, instead of here, in the heart of the old abandoned docklands. It’s such a transformation!’
Matt helped Kerrie serve the pork medallions, and as she passed Maureen some of the spring-onion mash Kerrie could see she was impressed.
‘I hadn’t realized that you were such a good cook!’ Maureen said.
‘I’m getting there.’ Kerrie laughed. She was so relieved that it was going OK.
The crumble went down a treat, and Kerrie was finally able to relax as Matt made coffee for everyone. The talk at the table had been a bit strained, and Kerrie wondered what was going on to bring the Hennessys to their apartment for the first time.
‘Mum, Dad, is everything OK?’ asked Matt, who was naturally worried.
Kerrie could see the anxious expression that flashed between Maureen and Dermot.
Dermot looked awkward as he played with the remnants of his crumble.
‘Your dad is in a bit of trouble,’ said Maureen slowly.
‘Dad?’ Matt asked, alarmed. ‘Are you sick or something?’
‘He’s not sick,’ interjected his mother. ‘But he’s in a bit of financial bother … we thought you might be able to help him, give him some advice about what we should do.’
Kerrie couldn’t believe it: Dermot Hennessy in financial
difficulty! The Hennessys were wealthy, they had money and property and investments. How could they be in trouble?
‘What’s happened, Dad?’ asked Matt firmly, staring straight at his father. ‘What the hell has been going on?’
Kerrie looked at the defeated expression on Matt’s father’s face, and felt sorry for him.
‘Have Gerard and Alan Mullen got anything to do with this?’ Matt asked.
‘Your father and Gerard have a partnership,’ added Maureen. ‘You know that, Matt!’
‘Dad, I know that you and Gerard have been involved in a few deals over the last few years, but Gerard surely has had no involvement in the rest of your business or in grandfather’s company?’
‘Dermot, for God’s sake will you stop trying to protect Gerard, and worry about yourself, and tell Matt all that has happened and about the bank,’ snapped Maureen angrily.
‘What’s happened with the bank? Dad, what’s happened?’
‘They’ve closed us down, refused any credit and are seeking immediate repayment of loans.’ Dermot sighed heavily. ‘But there is no way of repaying them at the moment.’
‘So what are they looking for?’
‘To raise capital to buy some of our investment sites I used my own property as collateral. We were building a big portfolio and investing, and we expected in the long term to see healthy growth and profit.’
‘Like half the country,’ said Matt flatly. ‘I presume most of the stuff is worth nothing now.’
‘I took a punt! And I lost … lost big time,’ said Dermot despondently. ‘So now they are going after my assets.’
‘Can you believe your father, gambling like that?’
interjected Maureen. ‘People like us have a position to keep … an expectation … a standard. If your father has jeopardized our standard of living … our way of life, put that at risk, I will never forgive him. What if he’s ruined us?’
‘We are not ruined, Maureen … well, not yet. Don’t talk like that. This will get sorted out … I promise.’
Kerrie felt awful for Dermot, but could understand Maureen’s worries.
‘Matt, I’ve brought everything along: all my paperwork, contracts, documents. I have a meeting with the bank tomorrow afternoon in the head office, and I wondered was there any chance you could come along to the meeting with me? You know the jargon, how to deal with these people!’
Poor Matt, thought Kerrie, being dragged into this.
‘Dad, why didn’t you say something about this earlier? Warn me what was going on?’ Matt said sharply. ‘I’ll have to try and cancel a load of meetings I had tomorrow. I need to see and to read everything. And try to understand what the hell you’ve done to get yourself into such trouble.’
Kerrie could see Matt was angry with his father. He disappeared for a second, and came back with his calculator and a pad of paper and some pens. ‘Come on, let’s clear the table! Then we can spread out all the documents and paperwork you’ve brought along and see what you’ve got. I need to try and put this thing together. Have you spoken to a lawyer?’
‘Just Barney Kerrigan … he drew up some of the documents, and looked over most of the agreements for me and for Gerard.’
Matt put his head in his hands … Barney was one of those cute hoor local solicitors who had a hand in every deal going in the locality.
*
Kerrie filled the dishwasher and packed away the place mats.
‘Maureen, why don’t the two of us go in the living room and give them a chance to look over things?’ she suggested. ‘I’ll make a fresh pot of coffee.’
Maureen looked tired, and spent the next hour complaining to Kerrie about Dermot.
‘We have a social standing, Kerrie, dear. You’ve seen where we live, you understand how much we have to lose if Dermot doesn’t sort this out properly. We owe some money, but surely the bank can be reasonable with people like ourselves. I mean, if this bank thing gets any worse, how would I show my head in the golf club?’
Kerrie tried to mask her own annoyance and irritation.
‘I knew you’d understand, dear … you can imagine how your own parents would feel if they were faced with the indignity of this ultimatum by the bank.’
Kerrie thought of her mam and dad, who had scrimped and scraped all their lives and only had a tiny savings account. They had never borrowed money, and if they couldn’t afford something had simply done without it. Holidays, clothes, treats, cars, house repairs and redecoration had all been put off until they had saved enough. Her father was terrified of running into debt.
‘How’s Georgina?’ she asked, hoping to change the subject.
‘Georgina is fine, but far too wrapped up in those children. She will have them spoilt. I’ve warned her, but of course she won’t listen.’
Kerrie tried not to get angry, and to stay calm as Maureen then began to give out about Ed, Matt’s older brother, and his lack of ambition or drive. Ed Hennessy had struck Kerrie as
a bit of a waster who assumed that family money would keep him going as he dabbled in property and ran some kind of management agency which tried to fundraise for various business schemes. He wasn’t a patch on Matt and everyone knew it.
‘He just wants to be out drinking and having fun with these so-called friends of his,’ Maureen complained. ‘Heaven knows where it will end. And as for some of the girls he’s dated! They are certainly not what Dermot and I would expect.’
‘I’m sure that Ed will settle down when he is good and ready,’ Kerrie said.
Maureen was tired, her face pale and strained. Kerrie was relieved when a while later she said goodnight to them all and disappeared to bed.
Matt and his dad were still engrossed in paperwork and documents.