Barefoot Over Stones (22 page)

‘But you did, Mammy! That’s what you said in the supermarket.’

Con did his best to stop laughing. He adored Lucy and how outspoken she was and how it embarrassed her mother.

‘Maybe you should scoot up to the living room, Lucy, to do your homework and stop getting me into trouble with your grandfather.’

‘OK, but call me when the enchiladas are ready. I’m starving.’ And with that she was gone down the corridor, singing to herself.

‘God, that one would hang you out to dry, Con. Anyway, I am very glad Dan persuaded you to stay for dinner, foreign muck or not.’

‘Well, it wasn’t that hard to persuade me, to be honest. I have something troubling me and I
was hoping you and Dan could see a way out of it that I am not managing to see.’

‘Sounds ominous. Are you in difficulty? Don’t tell me you have lost your shirt at the races.’

‘No, nothing like that, and I will thank you to have a little more confidence in my ability to place a clever bet.’

‘What is it then that has you so rattled?’ Alison was chopping vegetables absent-mindedly, imagining that Con had fallen out with someone in the local in Leachlara or some other little insignificant drama that he could easily be counselled about. After a lifetime of frantic activity she often thought that the burden of time on his hands, to think or be idle, was proving difficult for him to bear. In his case she felt that the gifts that retirement had brought had been mostly unwelcome.

‘Do you remember Leda Clancy?’

Alison’s knife stilled over the waiting peppers on the chopping board. ‘How could I forget her? The Clancys are hard to forget, believe me. They leave a long shadow. Please don’t tell me that you have wound yourself up with her again and for God’s sake don’t tell Dan because he will lose the rag.’

‘Look, I haven’t seen the girl in almost five years. When I made it plain that I wasn’t funding any more extravagances or paying any more of her bills she lost whatever interest she once had. The thing is I have had a threatening phone call from her. She rang the house in Leachlara yesterday, but from a blocked number, so I don’t even know from whereabouts she is hurling her little threats. I came here to see if you two could help me deal with her. She has incriminating evidence about my financial affairs that could ruin me. She says it’s her insurance policy and that she is calling it in before I croak it. Whatever charm the girl once had, I have to tell you I am failing to see even a fragment of it at the moment and that’s for sure.’

‘What sort of incriminating evidence? I know you will never be confused with Snow White, but what could Leda know that’s so damning and how does she know something that you haven’t even told Dan or me about?’ Alison had put the knife down on the chopping board and turned her full bristling attention to Con. Her father-in-law had always kept his financial affairs to himself and had never felt compelled to divulge any of the long-winded details to them before now.

‘Years ago I bragged to her, like the fecking eejit I was, that I had money loaded up in foreign credit card accounts. They have been fairly untraceable up until now as anyone looking would presume they would be showing a debit instead of a credit and would not be considered in any list of assets. The thing is the Revenue is smartening up a bit about this sort of thing so I was looking to clean up my affairs a little bit, put them beyond question. Leda has all the credit-card numbers, the banks they were issued from and the countries in which they are held. That’s what she now says is her insurance policy. She says there will be some wing of some tribunal interested in my tucked-away money and she’s dead right, Alison. They would be down on me like a ton of bricks. It wouldn’t matter that I am finished with politics either, it would still be news. I didn’t do anything that most of the rest of them weren’t doing, you know. You could fit the truly straight crowd in Leinster House into a phone box, but I am unfortunate enough to have Leda ready, willing and able to blow the whistle.’

‘Have you told Dan any of this?’

‘No. He will be furious because he warned me about Leda. You both did but to be honest I had no idea that she knew specific details about my accounts.’

‘How did she get the information? How could she know stuff that you wouldn’t confide to your own son?’

‘It’s not that I wouldn’t confide in Dan but he has always acted like he didn’t want to know any of the details of my business. He feels, and he is probably right, that money caused untold damage between his mother and myself. You must realize that it’s all for Dan’s and your benefit
in the end. Every penny of it will go to you both and little Lucy to do with what you will.’

‘Oh, Con, I’m not asking after your money, for God’s sake. It’s just that I know that Leda takes advantage of people, that’s all, and I wish you hadn’t allowed her to do that to you. We’ll have to tell Dan the minute he finishes upstairs at the surgery.’

For all her annoyance with Con for his foolishness Alison would have to admit that he was right about Dan’s lack of interest in his money or his business affairs. Dan hated to think about it and whatever relationship he had with his father was based on very limited knowledge of what he imagined were reams of crooked dealings. Money had poisoned his parents’ marriage, seeping into the very veins of it, suffocating all other forms of communication. Dan had decided to quench it as a subject open for discussion between himself and his father. Without its influence he felt more comfortable in their relationship. Alison had respected that wish until now, when Leda Clancy had come calling for what was not hers.

Con was sitting on one of her mother’s old kitchen chairs with his tall frame hunched over, deeply preoccupied. Looking at him, his daughter-in-law could still honestly say that he would pass for a man at least ten years younger. He was as sharp-suited as ever. His love of good tailoring had endured and the fact that middle age had not added an ounce to his lean frame meant that the bespoke suits he had invested in for his political career still fitted and gave him the air of someone on important business.

Alison left the dinner preparation aside and poured them two coffees from the jug that Dan had brewed at lunchtime. He was her husband’s father and she loved him. He deserved a little dose of pity with the interrogation she had subjected him to and she felt remiss for being so harsh on him.

‘Have a drink of that, Con, and get it all off your chest.’ Dinner could wait.

Con took the mug from her and smiled gratefully. ‘I was only saying to Dan earlier that you are the best in the world.’

‘Oh, I remind him of that fact frequently, don’t worry. Can’t have him taking me for granted. Now switch off the charm and turn on the facts until I see what we are really dealing with.’

‘After Mary died I gave Leda the run of the house in Leachlara. I gave her a key too so she could let herself in if I wasn’t around. You and Dan never came to visit after the funeral so I suppose I didn’t see the harm. Otherwise I would be rattling around the place meeting ghosts around corners. She used to call there when she was home from Dublin, said it was more comfortable than going home to the Clancys’ place, and now that wouldn’t be hard.’

‘I bet the little wagon couldn’t believe her luck.’ Alison’s derisory tone increased Con’s discomfort by several notches. To think he had decided that telling her before Dan would soften the blow. He continued because talking gave him some respite from feeling like an old fool, a feeling that had consumed him since he had spoken to Leda the day before.

‘Anyway, while she was there it seems she took the opportunity to photocopy anything in my office that she thought might be incriminating and she opened post I had left lying around. The upshot of it now is that she has me in a vice grip. If I give in to her demands I am a hundred grand down straight off, more maybe if she gets greedy. If I don’t I could lose the lot when the big guns come snooping. To top it all I really don’t trust her to keep her mouth shut even if she gets the money . . .’ Con tailed off, knowing from Alison’s bewildered expression that she was taken aback by the depth and breadth of his stupidity.

‘What do you think he should do?’ Alison and Dan were at the kitchen sink putting the last of the dinner dishes into the dishwasher and clearing the kitchen worktops. Con had repaired to the living room to watch the news, thinking it was better to let them discuss him and his crisis alone. Dan had listened silently to his father’s account of his misfortune, with Alison filling in any
details that the older man forgot or hadn’t the stomach to mention. Now Alison was trying to get to the bottom of how her husband felt about Con’s little bombshell.

‘I think he should find out exactly how much she wants to keep her quiet for good, add a bit and then hopefully a cheque will do the trick.’

‘I don’t know, Dan. Honestly, it’s blackmail and she shouldn’t be allowed to get away with it.’ Alison, in pleading for a little bit of common sense, was hoping to engender a bit of fight in her husband. After all, Leda Clancy had already gained enough from her liaison with Con Abernethy. She should not be allowed to clean him out, silently and secretly, without anyone showing any resistance. Alison would not even admit to herself that she might be yet feeling the slight of another Clancy who tried to take what was not rightfully hers and had never paid the price.

‘Oh, it looks like he has money salted away here, there and everywhere. It’s not like he needs it and, as he says, he will lose the lot of it anyway if Leda tips off the Revenue. As far as I’m concerned she is the sort that money talks to so he should give it to her and send her packing. The last thing he needs is this all going public. About all he has left now is the respect of the locals in Leachlara and around there. I think he should suffer the loss of the money to keep safe what matters to him most. I will talk to Hugh or Robert Lalor and see if we can look into putting his affairs on a proper footing. Maybe they could arrange a settlement with Revenue that would see it all sorted for good.’

‘Do you not care that it’s your family money? That eventually some of it might come to Lucy and that Leda Clancy will be spending what was rightfully your daughter’s inheritance? Does any of that bother you?’ Alison did her best to keep her tone calm and even. She hated fighting with Dan but his craving for peace at all costs exasperated her.

‘Lucy won’t need any of my father’s money. We will see that she has plenty. She won’t need to call on a cent from Leachlara.’

‘That’s not the point! It would be like someone laying claim to Michaelmas. You or I would not allow that because it belongs to our family. I can’t see why you don’t want to protect what is rightfully yours from a parasite like Leda.’

‘Michaelmas is different, Ali. Your father and mother built this place from scratch. They invested years of themselves and their hard-earned money in the place, just as you and I are doing now. Michaelmas is a source of pride for all of us and I hope Lucy feels that way too when she is older. Whatever my father has accumulated over the years has been done under the cover of dishonesty and abuse of a system whose weaknesses he knew inside out. It’s money, and that’s all it is, and if it takes a sizeable chunk of it to shut Leda Clancy up then fair enough. If you think about it she paid a fairly high price for hanging out with my father. It’s not as if her life blossomed while she was with him.’

Dan put the kettle on to boil and set out the tray with three mugs and a pot for tea. He knew his father would be paying scant attention to the evening news, waiting for their discussion of him to end and the problem-solving to begin.

‘What makes you think she will stop at one bite of the cherry? What if she comes back for more and more until it’s all gone? I’d say Con will be fairly miserable then, wouldn’t you?’

‘Maybe you’re right, but my instinct about Leda is that she will take the money and run, and run is exactly what I want her to do. The last thing I want is the Clancys back in our lives. I’ll see what I can find out about her circumstances. I’ll talk to a few people in Leachlara and I will speak to Hugh Lalor. There aren’t that many people he can’t get the inside track on and I won’t have to tell him why I need the information. That’s the advantage about being a doctor, people take it that you mean well. Go with me on this one, Alison, please. I will try to sort it out as neatly and as cleanly as possible for all our sakes.’

‘OK, whatever you think, but I don’t have your faith that this is the last we will hear of her.’

Alison watched him as he left the kitchen. She knew his distaste for conflict would always lead
him away from the fray if given half a chance. She wasn’t surprised that he wasn’t up for a fight. His desire to smooth the waters was one of the strong points of his character but a part of Alison wished that Leda had to deal with someone less honourable than her husband.

Colm Lifford cursed the postman every time he arrived at the front door of his solicitor’s practice on Bridge Street, Caharoe. Reams of important documents and correspondence were bent, folded and scrunched before being jammed unceremoniously through the letter box. Their tail end stuck out for the whole street to admire. Colm had tried to talk to Paddy about the state the post was in when it was delivered.

‘Any chance, Paddy, you could feed the letters in a few at a time? There’s important stuff in there, you know.’

The postman had looked at him sarcastically. ‘Do you see these hands, Mr Lifford? Up since half five sorting the post of Caharoe and these feet out since eight delivering it hail, rain and shine. It’s not in Dublin you are now, you know. This is a one-man operation and I am heartily sorry if it’s not entirely to your satisfaction.’

He walked off with his head in the air leaving Colm standing on the street slightly stunned. There were one or two mornings following that conversation when Paddy obliged, but this morning was typical. Colm crouched on the floor picking up the scattered correspondence and Betty Linehan, the practice secretary, almost fell on top of him as she turned up for work.