Things We Never Say Page 17

  Zoey had had enough of being at Fred’s bedside. Standing guard over a corpse wasn’t her idea of the way to spend her thirtieth birthday. She murmured to Lisette that she needed to use the bathroom, and then opened the door and went outside before her sister-in-law could do anything to stop her.

  She heard Donald’s raised voice straight away.

  ‘Who the hell are you?’ he was saying. ‘What in God’s name are you doing here?’

  Zoey hurried into the kitchen and then stopped. She hadn’t expected to see so many people there already. She recognised the doctor again, of course. And she supposed the silver-haired man in the sharp suit was the solicitor. But she’d no idea who the younger couple were. Neither, she gathered, had Donald, who was looking at them intently. At least, Zoey realised, he was looking at the girl intently. For a fleeting second Zoey wondered if she was Fred’s bit on the side. It wouldn’t have surprised her in the least if he’d had someone. She’d always considered him to be a desperate old lech, the way he ogled her! But this girl … Zoey looked at her again. She seemed vaguely familiar, even though she was sure she’d never seen her before.

  ‘This isn’t the ideal way for you to meet,’ Alex was telling Donald. ‘I know you must be very upset.’

  ‘Of course I am!’ cried Donald. ‘My father has just died and there are people I don’t know in his house and she …’ He stared at Abbey. ‘She’s … she’s …’

  ‘Maybe we should all sit down,’ suggested Dr Casey.

  ‘I’m perfectly all right the way I am.’ Donald crossed his arms over his chest.

  ‘What’s going on, Don?’ asked Zoey. ‘What’s all the fuss?’

  ‘These people,’ said Donald. ‘Why? And her – why her?’

  ‘D’you know her?’ asked Zoey.

  ‘No.’ Donald’s eyes still hadn’t left Abbey. ‘No. I don’t. But …’

  ‘Do sit down,’ said Alex. ‘Then we can discuss this properly.’

  ‘Discuss what?’ Gareth, followed by Lisette, walked into the kitchen. After Zoey had left them alone with Fred, they’d decided that they would be better off joining her and Donald. Just in case, Lisette had said softly as she dabbed at her eyes with a tissue, there was anything they needed to know about.

  And now Gareth was thinking that there definitely was. Because he too was looking at Abbey in utter astonishment. And thinking that, although this girl was blonde and his sister was dark, there was could be no denying that she was a younger version of Suzanne.

  Chapter 18

  ‘Who the hell are you and what are you doing here?’ Donald found his voice first and directed his words at Abbey, who was looking from one brother to the other.

  ‘That’s what we need to discuss,’ said Alex. ‘It’s a complicated situation.’

  ‘My father is dead and there’s a complicated situation?’ Gareth was unable to take his eyes off Abbey.

  ‘Yes,’ said Alex. ‘It’s why I’m here.’

  ‘What’s complicated?’ asked Zoey. ‘What’s the problem?’

  ‘She is.’ Lisette looked from Abbey to her sister-in-law. ‘We don’t know her. But I think we should.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Sit down,’ said Alex again. ‘Sit down and let me introduce you.’

  The Fitzpatricks pulled out chairs and did as he asked. Then he spoke.

  ‘Abbey Andersen, this is Donald, Gareth, Zoey and Lisette Fitzpatrick. Donald – this is Abbey, your father’s grand-daughter.’

  There was a stunned silence around the table.

  ‘I’m so very sorry about your dad,’ said Abbey. ‘I—’

  ‘What d’you mean, Dad’s granddaughter?’ Donald stared at her.

  ‘Yes,’ said Abbey. ‘And I’m sorry—’

  ‘Where did you spring from?’ asked Donald.

  ‘I … I’m from San Francisco,’ said Abbey. ‘I didn’t really know your dad, but I—’

  ‘This is unbelievable.’ Gareth interrupted her. ‘Dad is dead and somehow you’ve appeared from San Fran-bloody-cisco? And who are you?’ he demanded, turning to Ryan.

  ‘Ryan Gilligan,’ said Ryan. ‘I’m a colleague of Alex. I was the one who found Abbey.’

  ‘Found her?’ said Donald. ‘Who asked you to find her? Who said she needed to be found? Who says she’s any relation to my father?’

  He knew, even as he spoke, that those words were ridiculous. Because he knew that Gareth and Lisette had seen it too. In the shape of the girl’s face and the sweep of her hair. She was a Fitzpatrick. She looked like his sister and his father. He and Donald had always been more like their mother. Everyone had said so. But Suzanne had been pure Fitzpatrick. And this girl was too.

  ‘It’s a long story,’ said Alex. ‘How much do you know about your father’s early life?’

  The Fitzpatricks looked at each other. Donald cleared his voice and spoke.

  ‘Like everyone of his age, it was tough. He was brought up on a farm and worked there for a few years before he came to Dublin. He shared a run-down place off Blessington Street when he started off in a bakery. After that he was a driver in a butcher’s and later a garage worker. He eventually set up his own business, married my mother, moved to East Wall. And the rest – well, he worked hard and loved his family. It wasn’t a complex life.’

  Gareth said nothing. It had been more complex than Donald had wanted it to be. He remembered the times when Ros had waited stoically for her husband to come home from his nights out. Her face had been set as she’d told them that men needed to let off steam a bit. As he grew older, Gareth had heard the occasional rumours. That Fred was a bit of a ladies’ man. That he had a fancy woman on the other side of town. Gareth had tackled his father about it once and Fred had cackled with laughter.

  ‘It would do you good to have a woman of your own,’ he’d said. ‘Make me proud of you as a son. But you’re too involved in your so-called art for that sort of thing. You’re an embarrassment, that’s what you are.’

  But I never embarrassed my wife by having affairs, Gareth had thought. And I’ll never treat my own daughter with the disrespect you showed Suzanne.

  ‘It’s true that Mr Fitzpatrick worked hard like most of his generation.’ Ryan was the one to speak. ‘But in recent years he was concerned about his early life, while he was still living on the farm.’

  ‘I don’t even know where that farm was,’ said Donald.

  ‘Tipperary,’ said Ryan. ‘It wasn’t a big place, and, as you rightly say, your father eventually left it to come to Dublin. But before he did, he had a relationship with a girl in the town.’

  Abbey watched the faces of Fred’s children as they listened to Ryan retelling the story of Fred and Dilly.

  ‘Oh my God,’ said Lisette when he’d finished. ‘This is why he was so obsessed with the Magdalene laundries. This is why he was upset about what happened to the girls.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Ryan. ‘And that’s why he asked me to find his daughter.’

  ‘But you’re not his daughter,’ said Donald to Abbey. ‘Alex says you’re his granddaughter.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Abbey. ‘My mom … couldn’t be here.’

  ‘So when did you turn up?’ demanded Donald. ‘My father isn’t even cold in his grave and somehow there’s a long-lost granddaughter in his kitchen?’

  ‘Abbey arrived in Ireland yesterday. She met with Mr Fitzpatrick earlier today,’ said Ryan. ‘She was with him when he died.’

  ‘What!’ Donald stared at him. ‘This woman – someone we didn’t even know existed – was the last person to see my dad? How could that be? Who left them alone together?’

  Abbey cleared her throat. She was dizzy with shock and with exhaustion, but she knew that Fred’s sons must be shocked too, and they deserved to know about their father’s final moments.

  ‘Mr Fitzpatrick wanted to meet me,’ she said. ‘When I arrived, we talked a little and he showed me around the house. Then he went to make some coffee. I sat outside and I think I was half asleep
when I heard a crash. I went inside and found your dad.’

  ‘Abbey began CPR immediately,’ said Dr Casey. ‘She was very capable.’

  ‘Capable?’ Donald exclaimed. ‘Dad is dead!’

  ‘Abbey continued with CPR until the paramedics arrived,’ said Dr Casey. ‘She did as much as she could.’

  ‘Are you a nurse?’ asked Donald.

  ‘No,’ said Abbey. ‘But I knew what I was doing.’

  ‘Because often unqualified people can make things worse.’

  ‘Indeed,’ said Lisette.

  Abbey blinked a couple of times. Surely they weren’t accusing her of killing the old man?

  ‘Everyone is very tired,’ said Dr Casey. ‘And you’ve all had a shock. You must be distressed, too. Perhaps this conversation should wait.’

  ‘We’re all very upset,’ agreed Lisette. ‘Nobody was expecting Fred to … to pass away so suddenly. We need some time to grieve. And then we have arrangements to make for the funeral.’

  ‘Of course you all want to be alone,’ said Abbey. ‘I didn’t mean to intrude.’

  Donald snorted.

  ‘I’ll bring you back to your hotel,’ said Ryan. ‘And when the rest of the family is ready to talk to you, we can meet up again.’

  ‘That sounds like a good idea,’ agreed Alex.

  Abbey stood up and Ryan escorted her out of the house. Alex and Dr Casey followed them.

  ‘That was difficult,’ said Dr Casey.

  ‘Unfortunate timing,’ said Ryan.

  ‘It’s very upsetting for them,’ Abbey said.

  ‘For you too.’ Ryan looked sympathetically at her.

  ‘I hardly knew him,’ Abbey said. ‘He’s their father.’

  ‘It’ll all get sorted,’ Alex told her. ‘I’ll go back and talk to them. Arrange a proper meeting with you.’

  ‘Should I … should I go to his funeral?’ asked Abbey. ‘I want to do the right thing, but I don’t want to cause trouble.’

  ‘I’ll let you know what the arrangements are,’ promised Alex. ‘We’ll sort everything out. Don’t worry.’

  But it was hard not to, Abbey thought, when you’d met and lost a grandfather in a single day. And when you were the one who hadn’t been able to save him.

  Back in the kitchen, the Fitzpatricks were sitting in stunned silence.

  Not only were they struggling to come to terms with Fred’s unexpected death, they were also dealing with their utter shock at Abbey Andersen’s existence. But even as Fred’s sons thought about Abbey’s situation, they were both coming to the conclusion that she wasn’t as much of a surprise as they’d initially believed. Donald had been aware of his father’s affairs, but had always assumed that Fred’s liaisons were trouble-free. As, indeed, they seemed to have been. Given that Fred had had an unwanted child before, Donald was certain that he’d have taken precautions that it wouldn’t happen again. Gareth, meanwhile, was wondering about Fred’s daughter, Abbey’s mother. Why hadn’t she travelled to Ireland to see her father herself? Why had she sent her daughter instead?

  Lisette was wishing she’d quizzed Fred further about the Magdalene laundries. If she’d taken more interest that day, she might have found out about this unknown daughter and then it wouldn’t have been landed on them in such a shocking way. She was very conscious that Fred had clearly been looking over his will then too. A niggling worry that he might have been considering altering it was taking root in her brain. But he wouldn’t have done anything before meeting his daughter. And now, thankfully, it was too late. Lisette released a relieved, yet guarded, breath. She shouldn’t be glad that her father-in-law had died, but she was certainly glad that he hadn’t been able to mess things up.

  Zoey wanted to go home. Nobody else seemed to be concerned about the fact that there was a dead body in the house. But she couldn’t help thinking about Fred lying there in the bedroom and it was freaking her out.

  When Dr Casey returned, he spoke to them for a couple of minutes about Fred’s heart attack, assuring them that his death had been pretty much instantaneous and hadn’t been because of any inadequacies on the part of the emergency services or, indeed, Abbey Andersen. He then talked about the funeral arrangements and Donald said that he’d organise things now. That he hadn’t been able to think of it before, what with the shock of learning about the Andersen woman.

  ‘And Suzanne?’ asked Gareth, after the doctor had gone. ‘You’ll have to tell her about Abbey Andersen too.’

  ‘Oh God, Suzanne. I forgot all about her,’ said Donald.

  ‘You mean you haven’t told her about Dad yet?’ Gareth sounded appalled.

  ‘I was going to ring,’ said Donald defensively. ‘And then I heard them in the kitchen. It drove everything else out of my mind.’

  ‘You’d better call her straight away,’ said Lisette. She hesitated for a moment, then added, ‘Didn’t you think that Abbey looked very like her?’

  ‘Not a bit,’ lied Donald, and Gareth shot him a surprised look. ‘I’ll tell Suzanne about Dad, but I’m not going to go into the whole thing about this Andersen woman over the phone.’

  ‘You have to tell her,’ said Lisette. ‘You can’t have her arrive home and suddenly discover her.’

  ‘We did.’ Donald sounded truculent.

  ‘But she doesn’t have to,’ his sister-in-law said.

  ‘Lisette is right,’ said Zoey. ‘Tell her now, get it over and done with.’

  ‘I can’t do everything.’ Donald was irritated. ‘I have to look after the funeral arrangements first. Then Suzanne.’

  ‘Suzanne first, then the arrangements,’ said Lisette.

  ‘She’s waited this long. Another half-hour won’t make any difference.’ Donald got up from the table and went into the living room. He was the eldest. He was the one calling the shots. Lisette wasn’t going to tell him what to do.

  Suzanne was going through her folder on the Mirador Hotel when her phone rang. She saw Donald’s caller ID and she nearly didn’t bother answering because she was absorbed in what she was doing and the idea of talking to her brother for the first time in months wasn’t very appealing. But the very fact that she hadn’t spoken to him in so long was what made her decide to take the call. It must be important.

  When he told her about their father, she couldn’t speak. She’d always had a dream in which Fred would one day admit to her that she was the cleverest and most successful of all his children. In it he’d apologise for not having realised that before and admit that it was his fault she’d left home. And she’d forgive him and hug him and he’d be grateful for her understanding.

  But now the old git had gone and she’d never have the chance to hear him say that she was the smart one and that he was sorry for doubting her. She wouldn’t be able to invite him to the Mirador Hotel and see the expression on his face when she told him it was hers. He was the person who’d won, in the end. He’d left her with her feelings of bitterness and regret and with no way of getting rid of them. And he’d left her to face her two brothers on her own.

  ‘Suzanne?’

  Donald’s words brought her back to the present.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I – I’m stunned. I thought that you’d ring one day and say he’d been taken ill and could I come home. I didn’t expect this.’

  ‘Yes, well, neither did we,’ said Donald.

  ‘What happened?’

  Donald gave a brief summary of Fred’s heart attack, sticking only to the medical details and saying that Alex had been the one to let the family know.

  ‘I suppose it was a good thing Alex was with him when it happened,’ said Suzanne.

  He couldn’t not tell her. She’d be spitting mad if she came home and didn’t know.

  ‘Alex arrived later,’ he said. ‘The person who was with Dad when it happened was a girl called Abbey Andersen.’

  As Donald told her about their meeting with Abbey, Suzanne found herself speechless again. She too had known about Fred’s affairs, and the
idea that he’d fathered another child wasn’t entirely surprising – more surprising, maybe, was that nobody had appeared before now – but the story of the young girl dying in the convent was deeply upsetting.

  ‘So where is she now?’ asked Suzanne. ‘Our … our half-sister?’

  ‘She’s not our half-sister!’ Donald’s tone was explosive. ‘She’s nothing to do with us. She was adopted and brought to the States and she’s nobody we know.’

  ‘First of all, she is our half-sister,’ Suzanne said. ‘And the fact that her own daughter has turned up means she is something to do with us.’

  ‘I don’t want to have anything to do with her,’ said Donald. ‘She’s nothing to this family. Nothing.’

  ‘Dad obviously thought differently.’

  ‘He was an old fool.’

  ‘No argument from me there,’ said Suzanne. ‘But we have to talk to Abbey. Find out about her and her mother. See what Dad already told them.’

  ‘After the funeral,’ said Donald. ‘We can talk then.’

  ‘All right,’ Suzanne said. ‘I’ll try to book the morning flight.’

  ‘Let me know.’

  ‘I will,’ she said.

  After she ended the call with her brother, she opened her laptop and searched for flights home. She scrolled through the options, wondering how many people came home for a funeral and then had to face people they’d rather not bother having to talk to at all. And how many others felt cheated when someone died before they had the chance to say the things they’d always meant to say.

  Chapter 19

  ‘How are you feeling?’ asked Ryan as he and Abbey, having finally left Furze Hill, walked into the reception area of the Harbour Hotel.

  ‘It’s been a hell of a day,’ Abbey replied. ‘I feel like I’m going to collapse, but I don’t know if that’s because I’m jet-lagged or because of everything else.’