City Lives (35 page)

‘Mrs Gleeson, how kind of you to come and visit. I’m afraid I can’t talk very long. I’m still quite ill you see. Sit down for a few moments though, seeing as you’ve
taken the trouble to come.’ Sarah waved royally at the chair beside the bed.

‘I won’t sit if yeu don’t mind. This isn’t a social visit.’

Sarah’s head snapped around at her housekeeper’s tone. ‘I beg your pardon, Mrs Gleeson,’ she said sharply.

‘Well I don’t grant yeu me pardon, yer ladyship. Yer high and mightiness.’ Hannah’s broad Dublin tones held nothing but contempt.

Sarah couldn’t believe her ears at her housekeeper’s impertinence. Before she could say anything, Hannah advanced towards her, a finger wagging.

‘I’m here ta tender me resignation. I’m finished working for yeu, thank God and His Holy Mother, because yeu’ve been a crown of thorns around me head. I’ve hated
every minute I’ve been stuck in that mausoleum of yours. And yeu,’ she advanced at Sarah, who shrank back against the pillows, ‘yeu are nuttin’ but an ignorant mean ould
bitch who wouldn’t give yeu the steam of yer piss. Bad scran to yer mother for bringing yeu into the world ta torment the likes a me an’ mine. Yeu think yer a lady! Yeu don’t know
the meaning of the word. Yeu weren’t brought up, yeu were dragged up.

‘But I’m going ta work for a lady. A real lady and she only lives four doors down the road from yeu. The one yer always giving out about. Mrs O’Donnell.

‘I met her on the street one day and we got chattin’ and in the heel of the hunt she offered me a job and the wages are much better than what I ever got from yeu. So yeu can stick
yer job up yer snooty tight little arse, Sarah Yates, and yer airs and graces with it. Airs and
disgraces
would be more like it. Because that’s what yeu are. A disgrace. And God help
the poor craythur who comes ta take me place.’

With that she threw her set of keys to Sarah’s house on the bed, turned on her heel and marched out the door, leaving Sarah grasping her throat in shock. Perhaps she was imagining all of
this. Maybe the drugs were causing her to hallucinate. The slam of the door told her she was not imagining anything. Hannah Gleeson had abused and insulted her up to her eyebrows and she on her
sickbed. Sarah felt a dizziness overcome her. She picked up her bell and kept her finger pressed firmly on the buzzer.

Hannah Gleeson felt as though a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. And what was even more . . . she had reclaimed her pride. Her dignity.

For years she had suffered Sarah Yates’s insults. But she’d finally had the last word. It was the best day of her life. Even better than winning the Prize Bond, Hannah thought in
elation, as she walked down the drive of the nursing home without a backward glance.

‘But I thought she was much better. She was in very good form yesterday evening.’ Richard was irritated and perplexed as he spoke down the phone to the staff nurse
from the nursing home.

‘It’s just a slight temperature and we’ve given her a mild sedative. It’s nothing to worry about. She’d just be better off not having any visitors this afternoon.
I’m not talking about you, of course,’ she added comfortingly.

‘I’ll be in after lunch,’ Richard said flatly and hung up.

This was a bloody nuisance. He was fed up to the back teeth visiting Sarah in the nursing home. It took up the whole afternoon or evening, week in, week out.

He’d seen her improving. He’d half expected her to be discharged at the weekend. Once Mrs Gleeson took up full-time work he could scale down his visits to his mother. Where was that
woman? he wondered in irritation. He’d spent the whole morning phoning her but there was no answer. He wanted to sort out her new working arrangements. The sooner the better.

He tried again. No luck.

It was raining, a steady downpour that did nothing to improve his humour. The dull greyness of the day oozed into the penthouse like a miasma. He snapped on a lamp in an effort to dispel the
gloom. There was nothing that whetted his appetite in the fridge or freezer. He supposed he should go shopping. Lunchtime on Saturday was not the ideal time to go shopping in Superquinn in Sutton.
Richard sighed. He couldn’t be bothered.

No doubt Caroline was tucking into gourmet light-cal food in Powerscourt Springs, with not a care in the world, he thought resentfully. He paced up and down restlessly. He could work on his
briefs, he supposed. The courts had ruled against him in his last three cases. He was losing his touch. He glanced at his briefcase. Sod that, he thought. He couldn’t care less if he lost
every case from here to kingdom come.

He’d buy the paper, have a sandwich and cup of coffee in the Yacht, go and visit his mother and if the weather improved he might go into town for an hour or so and have dinner somewhere
later on.

‘Mega exciting life, Yates,’ he muttered. When Charles had been alive they’d gone to the theatre, films, art exhibitions, all the city’s cultural activities. Caroline had
been with them, of course. ‘The decoy’, she always called herself. He’d had a busy life. He’d been involved in politics. He’d networked actively. These days he
couldn’t be bothered. The spark and the hunger had gone out of him once Charles had died. Now it didn’t matter any more.

Two hours later he stood at his mother’s bedside. She was wearing the new pink bedjacket his secretary had chosen for her. He’d lied and told her that he’d picked it himself.
She’d been pleased at that.

Her eyes were closed. She looked a little pale. Maybe she was going to snuff it. A treacherous hope flared for a second. It would solve everything for him. He’d leave the damn country and
never set foot in it again. And Caroline could go fuck herself, he’d never speak to her again. Deserting him when he needed her most.

Sarah suddenly opened her eyes and impaled him with a laser-like stare. ‘Richard you’re going to have to find me a new housekeeper. Hannah Gleeson will not be setting foot in my
house again.’

‘What?’ he exclaimed, astonished.

Sarah sat straight up in bed, her eyes bright beads of temper. She didn’t look at all like someone who was going to snuff it.

‘That woman had the cheek to come in here to me in my sickbed, and give me the greatest mouthful of impudence. I have been treated with
such
disrespect.’ Sarah was still
livid, despite her sedative.

‘But what did she say?’ Richard was mystified.

‘She told me she was leaving. That O’Donnell woman four doors down from me has offered her a job. And
then
. . .’ Sarah inhaled deeply. ‘Then she called me such
dreadful names. She said I was a crown of thorns around her head. Can you credit that?
I
was a crown of thorns? After all I’ve done for that woman. I gave her ten pounds extra every
Christmas as a bonus.’ Sarah was pink with indignation. ‘I wouldn’t repeat her other vulgarities. I’m well rid of her, Richard. Kindly place an ad in the
Irish
Times
and specify highest references only.’

‘And what will you do until you get someone new?’ Richard couldn’t hide his dismay. What on earth had possessed Mrs Gleeson?

‘You’ll just have to come and stay with me for a week or two. I can get the mini-maids to come twice a week and you can collect something for us from the delicatessen some evenings.
You can get some of those nice chicken dishes out of Marks & Spencers and some of those baby potatoes.’ Sarah had it all planned.

Richard said nothing. This was a nightmare. His mother was never going to get someone to keep house for her. Who in their right mind would want to work for such a virago? He was up the creek
without a paddle.

‘Maybe you should sell the house and think of finding a good-quality nursing home to stay in,’ he ventured. ‘You like this place? And the care is very good.’

‘Indeed and it’s not,’ Sarah snapped. ‘I got dirty cutlery today and I was waiting an hour and a half for an
Irish Times.
And I’ll thank you not to suggest
selling your father’s house again. Of course you’d like to wash your hands of me and incarcerate me in a home, wouldn’t you? I’m just a nuisance to you now,’ Sarah
said self-pityingly. ‘You never like to be put out.’

‘I’m just thinking of you, Mother,’ Richard gritted.

‘You mean you’re just thinking of yourself. Go on. Get out of here. I’d be better off dead.’

‘Mother I—’

‘Get out,’ she screeched.

Her face was contorted with anger, her finger shaking as she pointed to the door. It was very rarely that Sarah lost control. But when she did it was not a pretty sight.

Silently Richard picked up his overcoat. He left the room and didn’t look back.

There was nothing he could do or say to salvage the situation. He didn’t care any more. Hannah Gleeson had been his one faint hope that there was a glimmer of light at the end of the
tunnel. Now that light had been well and truly extinguished.

Sarah wouldn’t go into a nursing home. No-one would ever stick working for her. There were no options. No alternatives. Nothing. It was all going to be left to him.

He walked out of the nursing home like a man in a daze. There was
one
thing he could do, he thought despondently, as he switched on the ignition and reversed out of the parking
space.

It would be a solution of sorts, he acknowledged grimly. He straightened up the wheels and drove off, noticing as he did so that a glorious vivid rainbow arched across the sky. Richard smiled at
the irony of it as he eased into the flow of traffic.

The cottage had a rustic charm that appealed to Luke. The wood and stonework lent a warm homely air. They’d have to extend up and out but that wouldn’t be a
problem. He hoped Devlin liked it. He felt that she would. He stepped out into the garden, neglected, overgrown, but nearly a half an acre with massive potential. And the view, even when wreathed
in mist and rain, was stunning. On a clear day they’d be able to see as far as Wicklow. It hadn’t been raining when he’d driven up here. There’d been a huge rainbow over to
the east when he’d set out to view the house but within five minutes of reaching The Summit the mist had closed in again and the rain began to pelt down.

Misty views or not, it was a hot property. Sites like this on Howth Head were few and far between. If Devlin liked it, he’d match any bid.

‘I’d like to bring my wife to see it, she’s away at the moment,’ he told the estate agent who’d shown him the property.

‘That’s no problem. Just phone me when it suits you and we’ll fix a time,’ the young man said affably as he locked the door after them.

‘I’ll do that, so,’ Luke agreed.

It was getting dark as he drove down the narrow winding road. Lights twinkled in windows, casting warm shadows. Below him, Dublin glittered through the mist.

He was tempted to leave a message on her mobile. Now that he’d discovered this little gem he wanted her to see it so they could put in an offer as quickly as possible.

She’d be home tomorrow. Time enough until then. He’d warned the estate agent not to let it go until he’d offered for it. His stomach rumbled. He was peckish. He turned right
and headed for the harbour. There was a nice seafood restaurant there that he liked. He could have dinner and save himself cooking.

Devlin rang him just as he had ordered his coffee. He moved out to the reception area to talk to her.

‘Luke we’re having an absolute ball,’ she enthused. ‘We all had full-body aromatherapy massages today and we’re so laid back the thought of putting clothes on over
all those lovely oils is just not on, so we’re staying in our robes and having dinner sent to the room.’ He smiled at the evident pleasure in her voice.

‘I’ve just had a feast of monkfish, but I’m fully dressed.’ He laughed.

‘Where did you go? Howth?’

‘Yeah. I was out and about so I decided to eat out. What’s the weather like down in Wicklow?’

‘Oh, it’s lousy,’ Devlin assured him. ‘But it’s perfect for us, all wrapped up in our robes looking out at it. Winter is a much better time to come to a health farm
than summer. We’ll have to come down for a weekend before the baby’s born. It would be the most divine place for you to relax.’

‘Yes, dear.’ Luke humoured her. Health farms weren’t exactly his cup of tea.

‘Oh, here’s our dinner. The girls all said hello. I love you. Talk to you tomorrow,’ Devlin said hastily.

‘Enjoy it. I love you too. Bye.’

Luke put his phone back on his belt. He was delighted Devlin was enjoying herself so much. She sounded rested and relaxed. She was a gas woman, telling him he needed to relax. She was far more
driven than he was.

He finished his coffee and ordered another one before paying his bill and setting off for home. The traffic was quite heavy on the Dublin Road, with people going into the city for Saturday-night
entertainment.

Ten minutes later he swung right into the apartment complex and saw in surprise that the security gates were open. An ambulance, fire engine, and squad car, all with lights flashing, were
clustered in front of one of the garages. What was going on? Luke wondered. Had there been a fire? As he drove nearer he saw with some concern that it was the Yates’s garage. He slowed to a
halt and got out of the car. A man’s body was being placed on a gurney. It was Richard. He was unconscious.

‘Move on please, sir. There’s nothing you can do here,’ a policeman ordered politely.

‘This man’s a friend of the family. I should contact his wife,’ Luke said. ‘Is he all right? What is it? A heart attack?’ He sniffed the air. There was an awful
smell of carbon monoxide. It suddenly hit Luke like a sledgehammer. Richard had tried to top himself. The gurney was lifted into the ambulance, the doors closed as Luke looked on in shock. Then it
was gone, speeding away into the night.

‘It would be helpful, sir, if you could contact the lady straight away. And perhaps you would confirm the name and address for me,’ the guard said, opening his notebook.

‘Yes of course,’ Luke responded, dazed, giving the details required. ‘What hospital has the ambulance taken him to?’