Things We Never Say (49 page)

‘I’m not suggesting that you marry him,’ Ellen pointed out. ‘Just that you spend time with him, if that’s what you want to do.’

‘If he calls, I’ll see him. If he doesn’t, I won’t.’

‘Have fun while you can, Abbey,’ said Ellen. ‘Enjoy life and whatever it throws at you. You only get one shot at it.’

Abbey was about to reply when the phone in the room rang and Clara told her that there was someone at reception looking for her.

‘Who?’ asked Abbey.

‘Suzanne Fitzpatrick,’ said Clara.

‘Tell her I’ll – we’ll be right down.’

It was entirely coincidental that both Suzanne and Ellen were dressed in similar skirts and jumpers, but it made the likeness between them even more obvious. The two women looked at each other with startled eyes, then embraced.

‘Well, no chance of you not being Dad’s daughter,’ said Suzanne. ‘And I’m delighted to think that I might age as well as you.’

Ellen smiled. ‘It’s good to meet you.’

‘I had to come.’ Suzanne turned to Abbey and hugged her too. ‘When Donald phoned me and told me – well, I couldn’t not. Especially because the sale of the Mirador to the other group fell through and Petra and I have put a new consortium together ourselves and we have enough to buy it. But the money I get when we sell the house … it will help dramatically, Abbey. So thank you. Thank you very much.’

‘You’re welcome.’

‘But it’s more than thank you.’ Suzanne looked anxious. ‘I wanted to be sure. Because, yes, the money will mean a lot to me, but what about you?’

‘Hey,’ Abbey said. ‘I’m a nun’s daughter. We do the whole simple living thing.’

‘Maybe.’ Suzanne’s eyes flickered between them. ‘But you’re giving up so much, both of you.’

‘You can’t give up what you never had,’ said Abbey.

‘Hmm, well, Donald was positively ecstatic on the phone. A bit too full of himself. Called it a great victory for natural justice and reminded me that he’d been right all along to fight you.’

‘Maybe he was,’ said Abbey. ‘After all, this way, you get what you deserve. And you do deserve it, Suzanne. I know how hard you work.’

‘Thanks,’ said Suzanne. ‘I’ll have to work even harder when I own the Mirador. But I’m so looking forward to it. Of course it still has to all happen,’ she added. ‘But I’m feeling very positive. Fingers crossed.’

‘I’ll say a prayer,’ promised Ellen.

‘I’m sure family prayers are better than any other sort,’ said Suzanne. ‘And I want to get to know you,’ she added. ‘I realise that you live this cloistered life, but I’ve never had a sister before.’

‘Half-sister,’ said Abbey.

‘I don’t care. Sister, half-sister, quarter-sister …’

‘Sister Benita,’ added Ellen. ‘That’s what I’m known as.’

‘What would you like me to call you?’ asked Suzanne. ‘Benita? Ellen?’

‘I don’t know.’ Ellen considered for a moment. ‘I think – outside the monastery – Ellen is who I am.’

‘Fine by me,’ said Suzanne. ‘Can we get together later tonight and have a chat?’

‘That’ll be fun,’ said Ellen. And she meant it.

Suzanne’s visit literally was a flying one, because she was going back to Spain the following evening, but although the three of them had agreed to meet for lunch the next day, Abbey cried off, because she’d developed a migraine.

‘Are you sure you’ll be OK?’ asked Ellen as she pulled on her boots.

‘Of course,’ replied Abbey, who’d taken some pills. ‘It’s only from all the tension. Go have fun with her.’

‘I know she said it was nice to have a sister figure in her life, but it’s sort of nice for me too,’ admitted Ellen.

‘I’m glad you think so,’ said Abbey. ‘And I like Suzanne a lot. Tell her I will, very definitely, come to Spain when she opens her hotel.’

She rested her head on the cool, crisp pillowcase and closed her eyes, allowing her mind to go blank. But as her headache started to ease, various thoughts returned. Mostly about the future. She wouldn’t be returning to California as a rich person. She wouldn’t be buying the apartment from Pete – perhaps she wouldn’t even be able to live there any more. But she would be coming home knowing that she’d done the right thing. And that she was closer to Ellen than at any time since she’d made her decision to join the monastery. She understood her mother more and respected her view. And even though she might not have found riches in Ireland, she’d found people. She doubted she’d ever be close to Donald and Gareth, or their wives, but it was nice to know that they were there. And there was also Suzanne, who was smart and kind and who wanted her to spread her wings and use her talents, just like Pete did. She would do that, she thought. She would do her best. There was nothing more anyone could ask of her.

Her head had improved enough so that she was sitting in the window, sketching with the hotel pencil on a sheet of hotel paper when the phone rang and Clara told her that there was someone else at reception to see her.

Who now? wondered Abbey, and was surprised when Clara added that it was Zoey Fitzpatrick. She went into the bathroom and dabbed concealer on the dark circles under her eyes, swirled some warm blusher on her pale cheeks and went downstairs.

Donald’s wife looked amazing in an on-trend black coat with leopardskin boots and a matching hat. She greeted Abbey with a wide smile (which took her totally by surprise), then said that she and Lisette wanted to have a private chat with her and could she meet them later at Fred’s house.

‘What on earth do you want to talk about?’ asked Abbey.

‘This and that,’ replied Zoey, who still couldn’t tell whether or not Abbey knew they’d taken stuff from the house. ‘But we think it’s important. Lisette’s at work today, so can you be there at five o’clock?’

Abbey was intrigued. What could Zoey’s this and that possibly be? She thought that perhaps meeting the two Fitzpatrick wives was something that Ryan would advise against, but her natural curiosity overcame her caution and she agreed to be at Furze Hill at the appointed hour.

Ellen returned to the hotel with Suzanne just as Abbey was leaving. She told them that her headache had gone and then explained about Zoey’s request.

‘Interesting,’ said Suzanne. ‘I wouldn’t trust that pair as far as I could throw them.’

‘There’s nothing for me to have to trust them about now,’ said Abbey. ‘I thought they’d be glad never to have to see me again.’

‘Perhaps they want to thank you,’ Ellen suggested.

‘I didn’t get the feeling that thanks were on their agenda,’ Abbey said.

‘D’you want me to come with you?’ asked her mother.

‘No thanks,’ said Abbey. ‘I’ll deal with this on my own. Unless you want to come,’ she added. ‘Unless you don’t want to be left here on your own?’

‘I’ve lagged behind in my prayers,’ Ellen said. ‘This is a good opportunity for me to catch up.’

As far as Abbey could tell, her mother spent a lot of her free time praying, and she found it hard to imagine that she could possibly have fallen behind in her conversations with God. She said goodbye to Ellen and promised Suzanne, who was waiting for a cab to take her to the airport, that she’d let her know how things went with the Fitzpatrick wives. Then she got into the taxi that she’d already ordered herself.

It was the first time she’d been to Furze Hill in twilight and the first time she’d seen the lights of the city circling the bay with their beads of yellow from Fred’s magnificent lounge.

‘It’s lovely,’ she said to Lisette and Zoey, who, having escorted her into the house, were watching her. ‘I bet it’s going to be a wrench selling this place.’

‘Hmm, well, that may yet lead to other arguments.’ Zoey made a face. ‘Donald doesn’t want to sell it at all, but we don’t have the money to buy Lisette and Suzanne out, so I don’t know where it’ll all end.’

‘Oh, not more legal battles, I hope.’ Abbey looked horrified.

‘I hope not too,’ said Lisette. ‘I can’t help feeling we’ve got ourselves into a “be careful what you wish for” scenario. Now that our husbands have got what they want – what they were entitled to – we’re hoping to persuade them to be sensible.’

‘Arguing the case wasn’t sensible,’ said Abbey. ‘But it worked out for them in the end. Maybe they’re the sort of people who fall on their feet.’

‘It doesn’t normally feel like that,’ said Lisette ruefully. ‘Certainly not over the last few years.’

‘Why did you cave in?’ Zoey asked Abbey. ‘All the advice was that you’d win the case, you know.’

‘It seemed the right thing to do.’ Abbey repeated the words she’d said so many times, words that nobody other than her mother appeared to understand.

‘There isn’t anything more, is there?’ asked Zoey. ‘You’re not planning on … on any other actions?’

‘Like what?’ asked Abbey.

‘Oh God, we’d better come clean. Not that it matters,’ Zoey added hastily. ‘You gave up everything he left you, which was the house and the contents, and so it doesn’t exactly matter any more, but still …’

‘Still what?’

Lisette was the one who told her about the safe and the money. And the pieces of silver and jewellery that they’d taken.

‘We were under pressure,’ she said. ‘We were afraid we’d lose everything.’

‘And the silver and jewellery were ours anyway,’ Zoey added. ‘We were taking it early, that’s all.’

‘But we were wrong to take the cash,’ said Lisette. ‘It could’ve been yours and that means that we were sort of stealing.’

‘Why are you still worried now that it actually is yours?’ said Abbey.

‘But it wasn’t then,’ said Lisette. ‘We thought that maybe you were going to sue us or something. That you’d take your revenge on the whole family by labelling us as criminals.’

‘Wow.’ Abbey’s eyes widened. ‘You think I’m a much more devious person than I am. I’d never have thought of that!’

‘You’re very annoying, you know,’ said Zoey. ‘You and your mother. All sweet and nice and understanding.’

‘But I do understand,’ said Abbey. ‘I would’ve been hopping mad too if someone had come from nowhere to grab my inheritance.’

‘Yeah, but I bet you wouldn’t have fought tooth and nail for it.’

‘Maybe under different circumstances I would. Or maybe it was the saintly influence of my mom.’

‘She’s certainly not what I expected,’ said Lisette.

‘Me neither,’ agreed Zoey.

‘She’s never been what anyone expects,’ Abbey told them. ‘Not even in the days before she was a nun.’ She told them a little about their travels in Latin America, and the two women listened, asking questions about the places she’d been and the people she’d met .

‘You’ve had an exciting life,’ said Lisette.

‘Everyone else’s life sounds far more exciting than your own,’ Abbey told her. ‘At least, that’s what I always think. It wasn’t that exciting when I was living it and it certainly hasn’t been that exciting the last few years. All I’ve done is hang out in San Francisco, go to work and have a few crappy relationships.’

‘We all have those,’ said Zoey.

‘But Zoey has proved that it can come right in the end,’ added Lisette.

Zoey made a face at her. ‘I still have another one to deal with,’ she said.

‘What?’ Lisette stared at her. ‘There’s someone else? Who?’

‘It’s not another man,’ said Zoey. ‘But the way Donald felt about Abbey and her mom is the way I’ve felt about Disgruntled Deirdre and his daughters. Thing is, I didn’t like his attitude. I thought he was being unreasonable, even though I understood where he was coming from. It made me think that maybe I’ve been a bit unreasonable about Deirdre and the girls too. So I thought that perhaps I could try a bit harder with them.’

‘Zoey!’ Lisette looked surprised. ‘That’s a big change.’

‘I know. And I’m not guaranteeing I’ll end up liking the first Mrs Fitzpatrick. Or those annoying girls. But maybe I can tolerate them a little more.’

‘Donald will be pleased, though,’ said Lisette.

‘I know. And I want to do it for him as much as anything,’ Zoey said. ‘One day I hope to have kids of my own. I don’t want bad feeling between everyone.’

‘I’m glad if something good came out of all the trauma,’ said Abbey. ‘And my mom would be pleased to think that your lives changed for the better.’

‘Your own life probably would’ve changed a lot more for the better if you’d got this place,’ Zoey observed. ‘You could’ve sold it and bagged a nice sum of money for yourself and done whatever you wanted.’

‘I don’t think the money is what changes things,’ Abbey said. ‘I think you have to change yourself. Which maybe I’ve done a bit over the last few months too. Just like the rest of you.’

‘Will you come back to Ireland?’

‘Perhaps.’

‘Will you call us if you do?’

‘If you want me to.’

‘It might be nice,’ said Lisette. ‘You … you’re family, after all.’

Abbey looked pleased. ‘A little bit family,’ she amended.

‘You did the right thing for us,’ said Lisette. ‘That makes you as much a part of this family as anyone, and, you know, I can’t help feeling that we’re still treating you badly when you’ve been so good to us.’

‘Please don’t worry about me,’ said Abbey. ‘I was fine before I knew about all of you and I’ll be fine when I go back to the States. I don’t want to be part of any further discussions you have about Mr Fitzpatrick’s legacy and I truly don’t want anything from you.’

‘Well, look, don’t you think—’

Abbey stopped her. ‘I have everything I need.’

‘Even if you’re not interested in money – and we got you so wrong about that – we wanted to give you this anyway,’ said Zoey. She reached behind the sofa. ‘We thought maybe it would remind you of Fred and of Ireland.’

‘Oh!’ Abbey couldn’t help smiling. It was the painting from Fred’s office. The one she’d noticed when she’d been trying to save his life. The one of the rock in the sea. ‘It’s lovely,’ she said. ‘Thank you.’

‘It’s only a token gesture,’ said Lisette. ‘The boys don’t know we’re giving you anything. They’re still a bit raw about the whole thing. But …’

‘Thanks,’ said Abbey again.

‘And here’s a card from us. With our contact information,’ said Zoey. ‘We’re both on Facebook too, so if you want to friend us, we’d be delighted.’

‘OK.’ Abbey was touched.