Things We Never Say (43 page)

‘I’ll be fine,’ said Ellen, but Abbey was insistent, and after much nagging, Ellen caved in and bought a pair of fur-lined boots, a couple of warm jumpers (she refused to buy a fleece) and a knitted black skirt.

When she emerged from the dressing room, Abbey asked her how she’d got on and Ellen confessed that the black skirt had been a bit more figure-hugging than she’d expected and that for a moment she’d felt like Ellen Connolly again, and not Sister Benita. But, she added, the jumpers (one black and one cream) were long enough to cover her body and bulky enough to deal with her dilemma of suddenly looking fashionable. ‘My stipend wasn’t intended for clothes shopping,’ she added as she paid for them at the till.

‘Think of it as learning about the outside world again,’ Abbey told her. ‘Besides, you can give them all to the deserving poor when we’re back.’

Ellen looked amused. ‘I guess I can.’

‘Will you change before we get to Dublin?’ asked Abbey.

‘Why? Are you ashamed of me like this?’

‘Not at all,’ replied Abbey, who was herself wearing skinny jeans tucked into her boots, and the Aran jumper she’d bought on her trip to Ireland topped with a fake-fur gilet. ‘I’m afraid of you freezing your buns off.’

Ellen relented after they changed planes at JFK, and when she emerged from the ladies’, Abbey looked at her in amazement.

‘Oh my God,’ she said. ‘You’re Mom again.’

‘Don’t be silly.’ Ellen tried to be dismissive. ‘I’m wearing a black skirt and jumper.’

‘I know …’ Abbey didn’t know what to say. But she realised that Ellen was embarrassed at suddenly looking good, and so she started walking towards their gate, trying to hide her shock.

When they emerged into the arrivals hall at Dublin airport the following morning, Ryan Gilligan didn’t recognise Sister Benita as anyone other than another of the travellers disembarking from the transatlantic flight. And then he saw Abbey.

‘You look great,’ he said as he kissed her briefly on one cheek. ‘It’s good to see you again.’

‘You too. This is my mom.’

‘The famous Ellen Connolly.’ He extended his hand and she shook it. ‘I wondered if we’d ever get to meet. It’s a real pleasure.’

‘Sadly the circumstances aren’t exactly ideal,’ said Ellen.

‘Probably not,’ agreed Ryan. ‘But I think they’re good for us. We have Judge Halligan for our case, and he’s a very no-nonsense sort of guy. This way.’ He led Ellen and Abbey towards the car park. ‘I know you asked for somewhere a little less expensive for this trip, Abbey, but the Harbour Hotel was doing a brilliant low-season offer. Even with travelling expenses in and out of the city, it’s a great deal.’

‘Whatever you think.’ Abbey shivered. The temperature was significantly lower than it had been in San Francisco, and there was a thin covering of snow on the pavement.

‘This is nothing,’ Ryan said when she commented on it. ‘The last few years we’ve had heavy snowfalls and alpine cold weather. At least the streets are clear, which means we can get around. Anyhow, you’re well wrapped up for it in your geansaí.’

‘G … g … geansaí?’ she said through chattering teeth.

‘Jumper.’

‘Right.’

‘You’ll be grand,’ he said.

She would always associate that phrase with him, she thought. Comforting, reassuring and motivational all at once. She’d be grand. Well, she’d be more than that after she got her hands on Fred Fitzpatrick’s house. She’d be rich.

‘I know you’re probably tired, but I’ve organised a meeting with Alex for later this afternoon,’ Ryan said as he opened the car door. ‘It’s to give you an idea of what’ll happen tomorrow when we start.’

‘You said this case could last three or four days.’ Ellen got into the back seat, followed by Abbey, who’d hesitated for a moment, thinking that both of them sitting in the rear of the car made Ryan seem like a cab driver.

‘That’s what we reckon.’

‘I’m terrible about legal matters, but why would it take so long?’ she asked.

‘Submissions by both sides. Cross-examination – the judge will want to ask about Mr Fitzpatrick’s state of mind. We have two doctors appearing on our behalf too, who’ll testify that there wasn’t a bother on him, other than his distress at the Magdalene laundry stories.’

‘That poor girl.’ Ellen adjusted her seat belt. ‘So terrible for her then, and the fallout is still happening now.’

‘That poor girl was your mother,’ said Abbey.

‘I know,’ said Ellen. ‘I’ve been praying for her.’

‘It might be better to pray for the people who are still alive and giving us grief,’ remarked Abbey.

‘I pray for them too,’ said Ellen.

Abbey shot her an exasperated look. Ellen’s face was serene.

‘I hear you’ve been doing really well since I last saw you, Abbey,’ said Ryan as he glanced at them in the rear-view mirror. ‘Winning prizes and everything, Alex told me.’

‘What prizes?’ Ellen looked at her enquiringly, and Abbey told her about the nail art competitions.

‘I’ve been picked to go to the Nailympics in London later this year,’ she said. ‘It’s very exciting.’

‘Yet you don’t paint your own nails,’ remarked her mother.

‘Nail art is for the big occasion,’ said Abbey. ‘But you’re wrong about my nails, Mom. They’re varnished in nude.’

‘Oh.’

‘And the great result of the competitions is that I’ve never been busier. I could work twenty-four-seven if I wanted to. My client list has nearly doubled since November. Which, although a good thing, is a bit awkward right now, with having to take time out for this hearing. Plus, there’s a friend of Claudia’s who’s interested in helping me set up on my own.’

‘That sounds promising.’ Ryan glanced in the mirror again. ‘Does it interest you?’

‘Perhaps,’ said Abbey. ‘I could let her invest in my business, or maybe I’ll use the money we get from the sale of Mr Fitzpatrick’s house instead.’

‘I thought you were going to use that to buy the apartment,’ said Ellen.

‘I haven’t decided.’ Abbey sounded impatient. ‘I don’t know what I want to do yet, Mom. But the money gives me choices.’

‘I see.’ Ellen closed her eyes and clasped her hands together. Abbey wondered if she was praying. The previous night her mother had gone into her bedroom for over an hour to pray. And this morning, as the plane neared Ireland, she’d taken a string of rosary beads from her bag, an action that had made some of the people in the surrounding seats look at her with a certain amount of anxiety. Abbey wasn’t sure if they thought she was some kind of religious terrorist about to blow them all to hell with the beads, or that her prayers were because she lacked confidence in the ability of the pilot to land them safely on the runway.

‘Where are we going to have the meeting?’ asked Abbey.

‘In Mr Fitzpatrick’s house,’ Ryan told her. ‘It’s important that your mother sees it.’

‘Will you be asking me to speak at this … trial … hearing … whatever you call it?’ Ellen opened her eyes again.

‘Possibly,’ said Ryan. ‘The key point they’re making is that Mr Fitzpatrick wouldn’t have left anything to you if he’d known that you were a nun. Alex may want you to answer some questions and prove that just because you’re a nun doesn’t mean you’re a homicidal maniac.’

Ellen raised an eyebrow.

‘They’re making out that as far as Fred was concerned, all nuns had murderous intent.’

‘Oh, but that’s plain silly,’ said Ellen.

‘I know,’ said Ryan. ‘But they’ll be saying that Dilly died at the hands of nuns.’

‘Do we know that for certain?’ asked Ellen.

‘That’s another point against the Fitzpatricks,’ Ryan replied. ‘She died shortly after giving birth. The fact that the baby came early may or may not have had anything to do with her treatment at the convent. It’s not entirely clear from the available records. But it’s certainly true that bad things happened in those places.’

‘So tragic,’ murmured Ellen.

Abbey reached out and squeezed her mother’s hand. Ellen looked at her in surprise, but then smiled at her. Abbey continued to hold her hand. It was all very well talking about the past and the things that had happened, but the reality was that those things had happened to Ellen’s mother. And she’d died after giving birth to Ellen herself. No matter how spiritual Ellen might be, or how she managed to rationalise everything in her world, the knowledge was surely painful.

Clara, the hotel receptionist, welcomed Abbey as an old friend and was equally effusive in her greeting of Ellen. She brought them up to a cosy bedroom with elegant furniture and an open fire burning in the grate, then unlocked the interconnecting door between it and an identical room. She told them that she hoped they had everything they needed and wished them a very pleasant stay.

‘I’m not sure you’ll be going for walks along the pier this time, Abbey,’ she added. ‘The wind chill has it a few degrees below freezing at the moment. Do please tell me if you need the heat turned up higher in either room.’

‘It’s perfect the way it is,’ Ellen said. ‘I love real flames.’

‘It’s natural gas,’ said Clara apologetically. ‘But it looks cosy.’

‘It’s grand.’ Abbey was pleased with the opportunity to use her favourite Irish expression.

‘Excellent.’ Clara beamed at them and then left them alone.

‘D’you like it?’ Abbey asked her mother.

‘The room? It’s lovely.’

‘No. Ireland.’

‘First impressions are good,’ replied Ellen.

‘Everyone is super-friendly,’ Abbey said. ‘Well, except for the Fitzpatricks.’

‘You can’t blame them.’

‘I’m not at all surprised they were ticked off,’ acknowledged Abbey. ‘I’m sure I’d be too if some stranger turned up and claimed my inheritance – not that I would ever have had an inheritance to claim. We tried to do the right thing – everyone said our offer was more than generous – but they didn’t even come back with another proposal. Anyway …’ She made a face. ‘Donald and Gareth were rude and horrible about you, so they don’t deserve it.’

‘That’s a bit harsh.’ Ellen’s own words were gentle

‘So were they. In fact they were downright nasty and aggressive.’

‘I’m sure they were stressed out at the time.’

‘They’ve had plenty of opportunity to destress since,’ said Abbey. ‘Besides, they got money from their father before, which is more than Suzanne did.’

‘You liked her?’

‘Yes. I did.’

‘And you think she should have got more?’

‘Yes.’

‘So are you planning to give something extra to her?’

Abbey sat on the deep windowsill and stared out across the bay. ‘She was looking for an investment in a hotel project she was interested in. I don’t know if she still is or not, but I’d be prepared to look at that.’

‘To make money out of her?’

‘No. To invest.’

‘Which is sort of the same thing.’

‘What are you trying to say, Mom? That we’re still doing the wrong thing? You said the offer we made was fair.’

‘And it was,’ said Ellen. ‘But sometimes people are too damaged to see fairness.’

‘Does that mean we should back off? Simply because they aren’t thinking clearly?’

‘No. The problem, as I see it, isn’t in what Mr Fitzpatrick …’

‘Your father,’ Abbey reminded her.

‘Indeed. The problem isn’t in what he’s done. It’s in how people are reacting to it. How it’s making them feel.’

‘At first I was shocked, but right now I’m feeling quite good about it,’ said Abbey.

Ellen smiled. ‘The prioress was pleased for you too,’ she said.

‘She was?’ Abbey was startled.

‘Of course. Like me, she wants you to be happy and comfortable.’

Abbey had never thought that the nuns would discuss their families, and said so.

‘But why wouldn’t we?’ asked Ellen. ‘We talk about a whole range of things. We don’t sit around chanting prayers all day, you know. Besides, you’re the only daughter that any of us has. We all take an interest in your well-being.’

‘Wow.’ Abbey was still taken aback.

‘Anyway, we agree that when you’re living in a material world, you certainly need some material goods to get by. There’s no point in pretending that you can live a monastic life in San Francisco.’

Abbey couldn’t help smiling.

‘So we want you to be all right. We also want the Fitzpatricks to be all right. To be happy and content.’

‘Right now, those two wishes seem to be totally incompatible,’ observed Abbey.

‘Hopefully not,’ Ellen said. ‘All the sisters are praying now. Please God it will work out in the end and everyone gets what’s right for them.’

‘Getting money for nothing never seems exactly right,’ said Abbey after she’d absorbed the knowledge that she seemed to be an honorary daughter to the nuns. ‘But other people do. They win lotteries or get big payouts for other reasons. Why should I feel guilty? Why should you? Especially why should you? You were his daughter. Her daughter. And you were abandoned.’

‘My parents didn’t abandon me,’ said Ellen gently. ‘They chose me.’

Abbey got up from the windowsill. ‘Sometimes it’s exhausting knowing you,’ she said. Then she went into the adjoining room and closed the door behind her.

Ryan collected them at the hotel an hour later. Both Abbey and Ellen had freshened up and made themselves some coffee in Ellen’s room, so they were feeling somewhat more alert by the time they got into the car again.

‘I kept falling asleep when I came here before.’ Abbey hadn’t spoken much to her mother in the past hour. When she’d tapped softly on the door between the rooms and opened it again, Ellen had been kneeling at the window, praying. She hadn’t moved until Abbey had offered her the coffee, which they’d drunk in silence.

‘It was probably the heat as much as anything back then,’ Ryan said cheerfully. ‘It was our hottest Indian summer ever, remember?’

‘Sure do,’ said Abbey.

‘In as much as that wasn’t entirely typical weather, neither is this.’

Lazy flakes of snow had begun to drift from the purple and grey sky to form a thin white carpet on the road ahead of them.

‘But you said it’s snowed before,’ said Ellen. ‘More than this.’

‘Indeed it has. Though we’re never properly geared up for it,’ Ryan told her. ‘It always seems to come as a surprise and causes total chaos. Fortunately, this isn’t forecast to stay.’