Things We Never Say (42 page)

Donald’s face darkened. ‘I’m head of this family,’ he said. ‘And I’m fighting on behalf of all of us.’

‘That’s bullshit,’ said Lisette. ‘You’re on some massive ego trip and—’

‘Lisette.’ Zoey looked at her sister-in-law. ‘I know you don’t agree with Donald, but he might be right.’

‘Tierney thinks there are a couple of technical issues he can fight on,’ Donald said. ‘As well as the notion that Dad was barmy.’

‘But he wasn’t barmy,’ objected Lisette.

‘He damn well was. And if you’re asked, that’s what you’ll say.’

‘I will?’

‘Yes. You can talk about how irrational he was. How he kept changing his mind about things. How he insisted on reaching into that cupboard, which was why he slipped and hurt his wrist.’ Gareth thought it was time he spoke in support of his brother.

‘I don’t think spraining your wrist is a sign of insanity,’ said Lisette.

‘Don’t be idiotic,’ snapped Donald. ‘You know what I mean.’

Lisette looked between her husband and his brother.

‘What about the costs?’ she asked.

‘Manageable.’

‘At fifty thousand a day?’

‘What?’ Gareth looked shocked. ‘It can’t be that much. Don, you said—’

‘I have a deal with the solicitor,’ said Donald. ‘Trust me.’

‘What if we lose?’ asked Lisette.

‘We won’t lose.’

‘But if—’

‘For God’s sake, Lisette!’ Donald brought his fist down on the table and it juddered. ‘Are you always this negative? It’s no wonder my brother is stressed out.’

Lisette looked at Gareth. ‘You have told your brother that you are stressed out because of me?’

‘No. No, of course not. I’m stressed out because of everything!’

‘But I am negative and this is worse for you?’

‘I never—’

‘But of course it is negative that I don’t want to lose my home because of this … this desire to beat the Americans.’

‘It’s not a desire to beat them,’ said Donald. ‘It’s a desire for what’s right. To have it on record that I’m the head of the family.’

‘That’s not what the court will be deciding on,’ said Lisette. ‘It’s about what Fred wanted. And he wanted, for reasons best known to him, to leave everything to those people and to hurt those who cared about him all his life. And it doesn’t matter what you say, Donald, we could lose this case and you’ll be ’ead of a broke family!’

‘God Almighty!’ Donald was about to continue when Zoey interrupted him.

‘Lisette is being extreme, but she’s stating a possibility,’ she said. ‘And perhaps we should think about accepting that offer, Don, or try to negotiate a bit more. We’d be doing it from a much stronger position now we know that they’re prepared to give up half.’

‘Didn’t you hear a word I said?’ demanded Donald. ‘I. Am. Not. Negotiating. Negotiating implies that there’s some kind of merit in her claim. There isn’t.’

‘Now who’s barmy?’ muttered Lisette.

‘I’m doing my best for all of us,’ said Donald.

‘No you’re not. You’re blinded by some kind of feudal notion of how things should be. And you’re going to destroy all of us in the process!’ cried Lisette.

‘I don’t know how you live with this.’ Donald turned to Gareth. ‘She’s the most obstinate, destructive person I’ve ever met in my life. She’s a cloud of doom hovering over everything. No wonder you’re stressed.’

‘Thanks very much.’ Lisette got up from the table. ‘I didn’t realise it was I who was the problem here.’ She walked out of the room, banging the door behind her.

Zoey stood up too. ‘I’ll see if she’s OK,’ she said, and followed Lisette out of the room.

‘Bloody women.’ Gareth poured himself and his brother another glass of wine. ‘They’d do your head in.’

‘Lisette is afraid we’ll lose Papillon. I tried to tell her that even if we accepted Abbey Andersen’s offer, there was a chance we’d have to sell it, but she won’t listen.’

‘That’s the thing,’ said Don. ‘We may as well go for broke; half just isn’t enough.’

‘It is for you, surely?’ Gareth said. ‘You’re not crushed by debt like us.’

‘I don’t have a pile of houses to maintain,’ agreed Donald. ‘But I have Zoey. That woman goes through money like it’s water. She could plough through the inheritance in a year without giving it a thought.’

Gareth shuddered. He dreaded to think what kind of state their finances would be in if Lisette was as profligate as his sister-in-law.

‘Lisette’s a cautious woman,’ he said. ‘Even when we were flipping the properties, she was always trying to do things conservatively. It’s my fault we got into this mess.’

‘All the same, she’s the one who wants to keep the house in France.’

‘She loves it. We both do.’

‘I promise you,’ said Donald, ‘we will win this case and we will get our money. And you’ll be able to keep your house in France and your head above water and Lisette will thank me at the end of it.’

‘The truth is that she’s brought in a lot of cash over the past few weeks giving extra tuition.’ Gareth felt he had to point this out. ‘The reason the pressure’s still on is because all our bloody money goes on mortgages, though at least some of our arrears have been paid off. But Papillon – she’s talking about leaving for France with the kids, Donald. I don’t want her to do that.’

‘Overdramatising,’ remarked Donald. ‘She’s French, after all.’

‘That doesn’t mean—’

Donald interrupted his brother with a wave of his hand. ‘Everything will be fine,’ he said. ‘Convince her of that. We’ll come out laughing. You’ll see.’

Gareth slumped back in his chair. He’d always supported his brother. But he wished he was convinced that he was doing the right thing.

‘You OK?’ asked Zoey as, in the kitchen, Lisette tore some paper towel from the roll and blew her nose. ‘I’m sure Donald didn’t mean to upset you.’

‘Is that how people think?’ Lisette sniffed. ‘That I am pressurising Gareth all the time?’

‘I don’t think that,’ said Zoey. ‘I think you’re amazing. You go out to work, run the house, look after the kids and did a great job with old Mr Fitzpatrick when he was alive. You’re a wonderful wife and mother and he’s damn lucky to have you.’ She glanced around. ‘Where are the kids tonight, by the way?’

‘Having a sleepover with friends,’ replied Lisette. ‘As for the rest of it – I didn’t do enough of a good job with Fred, did I? Otherwise he would’ve left it all to me.’

‘And Donald would’ve gone apeshit again,’ Zoey said. ‘Jeez, Lisette, I want Fred’s house as much as anyone, but money really is at the root of all evil, isn’t it?’

‘I’m so scared,’ said Lisette. ‘I keep thinking that not only will we lose Papillon but we’ll lose Thorngrove too. And people will think that we are greedy, selfish people looking for Fred’s money because we threw our own away.’

‘You’re not greedy or selfish.’ Zoey put her arm around Lisette’s shoulders. ‘Donald has made up his mind. But even though he was never as tough as his dad, I trust him to know what he’s doing.’

‘You do?’ Lisette looked at her doubtfully.

‘He’s ready for this fight,’ Zoey assured her. ‘I’ve never seen him so prepared.

‘I don’t want to fight,’ said Lisette. ‘I don’t like fights when I don’t know already who’s going to win.’

‘We will,’ promised Zoey, as she handed Lisette another sheet of kitchen towel. ‘Somehow.’

Suzanne had been extremely busy all day, and it wasn’t until late in the evening, when she was sitting in her apartment, that she switched on her phone and saw a clatter of missed calls and emails. The calls were from Jaime Roig and Petra Summers. Jaime was telling her that the sale of the Mirador had fallen through and that it was on the market once again; Petra’s calls were to say that she’d found some other investors who were interested in the hospitality industry and that if Suzanne could find an interesting project they might be willing to support her.

It was a sign, Suzanne thought. It had to be. She was destined to buy the Mirador. She would meet with Petra and the investors, and this time, she would be firmer in her negotiations with the bank. She would tell them that she was going to get a share of Furze Hill as well as her two hundred and fifty thousand, and she would find a way to convince them to lend her the money. So what if, in the end, Abbey Andersen and her mother walked away with her father’s house? Suzanne was sure that once she had the loan money secured, she would be able to pay it back. Her original projections had been based on much higher borrowings anyway. It was only because the bankers had lost all their
cojones
that she was having to put anything into it herself.

She opened the photo gallery on her laptop and looked at the pictures she’d taken of the Mirador in all its faded glory. This was her hotel. The one she’d always dreamed of. It truly was. If only her stupid older brother would get over his obsession about their father’s will, she could have her money and use it to persuade the banks that she was worth backing. She scrolled through her contacts and stopped at Donald’s number. She was about to call him when she changed her mind.

Everything she’d had or done before, she’d done without anything from her father. She didn’t need his money for this either. The owners of the Mirador wanted to sell. She had potential investors. She could do this on her own. And this time no damn bank was going to stop her.

Abbey had planned to pick Ellen up from the airport, but her mother had insisted on making her own way to the apartment.

‘I’m not helpless, you know,’ she’d said over the phone from the monastery. ‘I’ve plenty of experience of getting from Point A to Point B without getting lost.’

‘I know,’ said Abbey. ‘But it’s ten years since you’ve had to try.’

‘My navigational skills haven’t disappeared,’ her mother reminded her. ‘I’m still a capable person.’

Which Abbey knew she was, of course. But she couldn’t help being concerned about her mother’s venture into the outside world. A world which – no matter what Ellen might think – had changed dramatically during her time at the monastery.

Abbey had been surprised, but pleased, when the prioress had agreed that Sister Benita needed to go to Ireland to assist with family matters. When Ryan Gilligan had called with the news that a date for the court hearing had been set for the end of January, and that it was imperative Ellen be available to be there, Abbey had wondered how on earth that would happen. She knew that some of the nuns left the monastery from time to time to attend religious conferences or events, but this was very different. In the end, however, the prioress had been very understanding about Sister Benita’s situation. But now that Ellen was on her own, Abbey wondered how easy it would be for her. They’d chosen to fly from San Francisco rather than San Diego because it was cheaper, but she was thinking it might have been better to have chosen her mother’s local airport instead and not put her through the stress of travelling alone.

There was a ring at the bell and Abbey turned away from the window to answer it.

‘It’s me,’ said Ellen.

‘Mom! I was looking out for you but I didn’t see you.’ Abbey buzzed open the door. ‘Come on up.’

A few moments later Ellen, dressed in a navy raincoat over the beige habit of the monastery, was stepping into the apartment. She hugged Abbey, then looked around her curiously.

‘You were right,’ she said. ‘It’s not the same at all.’

‘Yes,’ agreed Abbey. ‘But it still feels warm and cosy and comfortable.’

Ellen looked pensive. ‘I like it, but it doesn’t trigger any memories. I thought it would.’

‘Me too,’ admitted Abbey. ‘Even though Pete said it had been remodelled, I still imagined myself here just as it was.’

‘Things change,’ said Ellen. ‘Nothing can be as it was before.’

‘I guess not.’ Abbey took her mother’s coat and hung it in a small cupboard. ‘D’you want to see your room?’

‘Is that changed too?’

‘They split the bedrooms so that they’re both the same size,’ explained Abbey. ‘There isn’t one big one and one tiny one any more.’ She ushered her mother along the narrow corridor to the room. ‘Here you go.’

‘Lovely,’ said Ellen as she looked at the neatly made bed with its pale blue quilt and the cream walls hung with a variety of paintings of Alcatraz. ‘Yours?’ She nodded at the paintings.

‘Old ones.’

‘Nice, though.’

‘Thanks. I was going to say I’d let you get on and unpack, but as we’re leaving in the morning, I reckon it’s probably not worth your while.’

‘No,’ said Ellen. ‘I don’t have much to unpack anyway.’

The two of them stood in the room together without speaking. Then Abbey, without thinking about it, put her arms around her mother and hugged her. And Ellen hugged her in return.

Although Pete had offered to drive them to the airport, Abbey told him that they’d be better off getting a cab.

‘It’s a big thing for Mom to be outside the monastery,’ she said. ‘I think meeting you would be a bit overwhelming, and I don’t need her to be overwhelmed in advance of meeting the Fitzpatricks.’

‘Whatever you think,’ said Pete. ‘You look after yourself, you hear? And don’t take any crap from anyone.’

‘If the judge hands down crap, I think we have to take it,’ Abbey told him.

‘He won’t.’ Pete was certain. ‘Your case is strong and they’re fools for going after you like this.’

‘Perhaps.’

‘It is,’ said Pete. ‘Let your lawyer friend fight for what’s yours.’

‘Will do,’ Abbey promised.

‘Good luck, honey.’

His words were in her ears as she and Ellen walked through the terminal building. Ellen was wearing the coffee-coloured skirt with a fresh white blouse, flat brown shoes and the navy coat again. Abbey, who’d looked at the weather forecast for Dublin the previous evening, was concerned.

‘There’s snow,’ she told Ellen. ‘I’m not sure how much walking about we’ll have to do, but I think you’ll need something more than those shoes and that coat. Perhaps a couple of fleeces and some boots?’

‘I have to wear my habit,’ protested Ellen.

‘Mom, your habit might be fine in the middle of the desert, but not in snow,’ Abbey pointed out. ‘I’m sure Sister Inez won’t want you to catch pneumonia.’