Every Time We Say Goodbye (10 page)

‘Oh, am I not good enough for you, is that it?’ Dot feigned a hurt expression.

‘Of course you are, Granny.’ Kate kicked her brother under the table.

‘Ow! Bitch!’ He stuck his tongue out at her.

‘Andrew!’ Marianne was about to read her son the riot act when she remembered the principal’s words. ‘I’ve told you, I don’t like you using those words,’ she said quietly.

‘No, only your granny is allowed to use them,’ Dot said with a wink. ‘So, are you coming with me or not?’

Andrew giggled. ‘Okay.’

‘I’ll drop you there and come and join you as soon as I can. How’s that?’ Marianne told him.

‘Great! Is that where Daddy lived, Granny?’ he asked.

‘Yes, I moved to Kilbarrack with your granda the week after we got married. It was the middle of nowhere in those days, all farmland and only a few houses.’

‘Where is Kilbawick?’ he asked.

‘Not far,’ Marianne said. ‘You’ve been there before, sweetheart, but you were only little.’

‘I remember it,’ Kate said. ‘It’s a tiny little house.’

Again Marianne was about to tell off her daughter but swallowed her words.

‘It was plenty big enough for us, you cheeky monkey,’ Dot retorted, laughing. ‘There were six in the family next door and they managed just fine too.’

‘But haven’t you only one bathroom?’ Kate’s eyes were round with wonder.

‘How on earth did we survive?’ Dot marvelled with a grin.

‘How indeed?’ Marianne grinned, remembering the cold, drab bathroom in St Anne’s that she’d had to share with eight other girls. She rarely mentioned her childhood to her kids though. She didn’t want to be one of those parents constantly harking on about how things were ‘in my day’.

‘What?’ Kate was looking from her to Dot obviously wondering what she’d said that was so funny.

‘They were different times, love, that’s all,’ Dot said. ‘The house I grew up in didn’t even have an indoor toilet; it was in a tiny shed at the end of the garden. I used to hate having to go out there at night.’

Now Andrew’s eyes were on stalks. ‘Your toilet was outside? Cool!’

‘Bloody freezing most of the time.’

Kate laughed.

‘Granny said another bad word,’ Andrew crowed.

‘Yes, I think we may have to set up a swear box,’ Marianne said, delighted to see him smiling and Kate positively animated.

‘And there were spiders,’ Dot continued, ‘big hairy yokes. One day, a huge fella dropped on my head and I flew back up the path with me drawers round me ankles!’

‘Drawers?’ Andrew looked puzzled.

‘She means pants,’ Kate said, wiping her eyes. ‘Oh, Granny, that’s funny.’

‘There was nothing funny about it, believe me,’ Dot retorted but her eyes twinkled. ‘Now hurry up and finish your food, it’s nearly bath time.’

‘But it’s early,’ Kate protested.

‘Did I say bedtime? I did not. Tonight is bingo night and you have to be shiny and clean and ready for bed in an hour if you want me to read with you before I go.’

Hopping to her feet, Kate stuffed the last few chips into her mouth and put her plate in the dishwasher. ‘I’ll have a shower.’

‘Need any help?’ Marianne asked.

‘Of course not.’ Kate threw a look of disdain over her shoulder before disappearing.

‘She’s growing up, love,’ Dot patted Marianne’s hand.

‘I need help,’ Andrew said reaching over to hug her and leaving a smear of ketchup on her cheek.

‘You’ve got it, sweetie,’ she told him and planted a noisy kiss on his cheek.

Chapter Eight

Once Dot had left for bingo and the children were tucked up in bed asleep, Marianne made herself a coffee. She had just settled at the kitchen table with a pile of Dominic’s unopened post in front of her when the doorbell rang. She frowned. This wasn’t the sort of road where neighbours stopped by and it was a bit late for a sales call. She went out into the hall, put on the security chain and opened the door.

‘Helen!’

‘I thought you might fancy some company.’

‘Oh, I do,’ Marianne said, as she took off the chain and held her arms out to embrace her best friend.

Helen hugged her tightly. ‘I am so sorry, pet, as if you haven’t gone through enough. Johnny said I should leave you in peace but I knew it was Dot’s bingo night and I hated the thought of you being on your own.’

‘I’m delighted you came; let me make you some coffee.’

Helen followed her out to the kitchen. ‘Are they asleep?’ she whispered.

‘Yes, all clear.’

Helen sat down. ‘Johnny told me the news; I can’t believe it.’

‘Me neither.’

‘You haven’t told Dot?’

‘How could I, Helen? It would kill her.’

‘She would be devastated,’ Helen acknowledged. ‘I find it all so hard to take in. I made Johnny go over it again and again. Is there any way it could be a mistake?’

‘I don’t know, Helen. The investigation is ongoing but it doesn’t look good.’

‘It could have been somebody who worked for him; he could have been framed. It’s easy to blame a dead man.’ She glanced at the pile of envelopes. ‘Detective work or just dealing with the bills?’

‘A bit of both.’

‘Can I help?’

Marianne smiled gratefully. ‘Please. Two heads are better than one.’

‘I was just thinking on the way over here about Dominic’s phone,’ Helen said as she started to slit envelopes with her fingernail and divide the post into two piles, one for bills and the other for everything else. ‘Did you ever ring his number?’

Marianne stopped and looked at her. ‘No. To be honest I hadn’t given it a thought until Matthews mentioned it this morning.’

‘I think you should.’

Marianne smiled. ‘Why’s that, Miss Marple?’

‘Johnny mentioned that you thought he might have been having an affair.’

‘No, that never occurred to me. Mattthews jumped to that conclusion because Dominic had lied to me about working late.’

‘But if he was seeing another woman, her number or messages would be on his phone, wouldn’t they?’ Helen persisted.

‘I suppose so.’

‘So perhaps if she was with him the night he died, she’d have taken the phone to protect her identity.’

Marianne sat back and stared thoughtfully at her friend. ‘Or he was with someone who was involved in the fraud and they knew their details were on the phone.’

‘My God, yes!’ Helen’s eyes widened. ‘Let’s call the number.’

‘They’re hardly likely to answer. Anyway the phone is probably in a bin or at the bottom of a canal by now.’

Helen shrugged. ‘You could contact the service provider and tell them the situation. They’ll be able to tell you if the phone has been used since his death.’

Marianne clapped a hand to her mouth.

‘What?’

Marianne started to laugh. ‘We are stupid.’

‘Why?’

‘All the information will be on his itemized bill which is probably right here.’ Marianne patted the heap of bills between them.

‘Of course!’ Helen started to thumb through them. Halfway through, she found the bill they were looking for and passed it to Marianne. ‘Here you go.’

Marianne flicked to the second page and put it on the table between them.

Helen leaned closer.

Marianne ran her finger down the items. ‘That’s my number and that’s Dot’s, that’s the house phone and that’s Matthews and Baldwin.’

‘What about this one?’ Helen pointed to a mobile number that featured regularly.

‘I don’t recognize it.’

‘Bingo.’

‘So, what do we do now?’ Marianne asked.

‘Call the number and Dominic’s and see if the same person answers,’ Helen suggested. ‘We don’t have to say anything. Oh, come on, what harm can it do?’

Marianne smiled. ‘Okay, okay.’

‘I’ll call from my phone – they might recognize your number – and put it on loudspeaker so you can hear the voice.’

‘You’re way too good at this.’

Helen laughed. ‘Right. I’ll phone Dominic’s number first.’

Marianne called it out and bit on her knuckle as she watched her friend dial.

‘
The number you have dialled is busy
,’ an automated voice said.

Helen hung up. ‘Well, that doesn’t tell us much.’

‘Try the other number.’ Again Marianne called it out and Helen typed it in. They got another automated message.

Helen disconnected and put the phone down. ‘Oh, well, it was worth a try.’

‘I suppose we could send a text to Dominic’s phone,’ Marianne mused.

‘And say what?’

‘No idea.’

‘Have a think about it; you don’t have to do it right now.’

‘Yes, okay. In the meantime I think I’ll send Matthews and Baldwin a copy of this phone bill.’

‘Yes, and Dominic’s credit card bill too; just so they know that you are very firmly in their corner.’

‘Yes, I’ll do that.’

‘Let’s have a look through the rest of his post.’

They worked quickly, but apart from an exorbitant gas bill that made Marianne feel nauseous, there was nothing that shone any light on Dominic’s behaviour. She yawned and stretched.

‘Oh, I’m tired.’

‘I’m not surprised. You’ve been lurching from one crisis to another.’

‘Today was horrible,’ Marianne agreed.

‘I’ll go and let you get some sleep. But there was something else I wanted to say . . .’

Marianne braced herself when she saw the solemn expression on Helen’s face. ‘Go on.’

‘Johnny and I were talking. It could be a long time before you see any cash from either Matthews and Baldwin or the insurance claim—’

‘If at all,’ Marianne grimaced and massaged her stomach.

‘Well, perhaps,’ Helen conceded. ‘We both think you’ll find a job, although you’re unlikely to earn as much as Dominic did.’

Marianne eyed her friend over her mug. ‘Are you trying to cheer me up?’

Helen pulled a face. ‘Sorry, but there’s no point sugar-coating it. The good news is that we thought of another way to bring in a little cash.’

‘Great, I’m all ears.’

‘It was Johnny’s idea. He said you could rent out your house and move into somewhere smaller. That way you would at least be able to pay the mortgage.’

Marianne laughed. ‘Ah, way ahead of you! Dot had the same idea, only she wants us to move into her house, that way we have no rent to pay at all.’

‘That’s a great idea.’

Marianne sighed. ‘It makes sense, although we may well kill each other.’

‘But you get on so well.’

‘It’s easier in a place this size and I’ve always been careful to give her some space. But in her house she’ll be tripping over me and the kids all the time.’

‘They’ll be at school all morning,’ Helen reminded her.

‘Not during the holidays.’

‘It’s not ideal,’ Helen agreed, ‘but sacrifices have to be made. I’m sure she’ll be happy to do anything she can to help, given it’s her son that got you into this mess.’

‘Just remember she doesn’t know the half of it.’

‘I won’t say a word.’

Marianne glanced around the room. ‘I’m not hugely attached to this place but I can’t say I’m keen on renting it to a stranger; you hear such horror stories.’

‘Johnny will find you someone reliable.’

‘He’s a developer – what does he know about renting property?’

‘He’s whatever he has to be these days.’

‘How are things?’ Marianne asked, conscious that she had been so wrapped in her own problems she hadn’t thought about how hard life must be for a builder at a time when no one could afford to build.

‘We’re okay. We were blessed to have sold all twelve houses in the Heritage Mews development just before the crash. Johnny was planning to buy more land, so he didn’t invest the proceeds. If he had, we’d be bankrupt by now.’

‘What a frightening thought.’ Marianne knew no harder working, more intelligent couple than Helen and Johnny and the fact that it was just down to luck that they had survived the property crash was sobering.

Helen’s face darkened. ‘Not everyone was as fortunate. Johnny’s friend, Christy Kennedy, got stung badly and it’s destroyed him; he’s a shadow of his former self.’

Marianne sighed. ‘And I don’t suppose he gets much sympathy. Everyone thinks that all builders are loaded and the rest of us are paying for their greed.’

‘Not poor old Christy. He wasn’t much of a businessman and never planned for a rainy day.’

‘And now every day’s a rainy day, poor man. So if Johnny isn’t building, what is he doing? He always seems to be busy.’

‘You know Johnny, he turns his hand to anything and everything. There are still a couple of building projects in the pipeline but he’s mainly concentrating on extensions, maintenance and now he’s branched into leasing.’

‘Good for him.’

‘And he told me to tell you that he knows someone that’s looking for a place in Howth.’

Marianne stared at her. ‘No, really?’

Helen nodded. ‘Yes, just say the word and he’ll set up a viewing.’

Marianne thought about it for only a moment and then nodded. ‘Tell him to go ahead; it’s not as if I have much choice.’

‘I’ll tell him. Now our next challenge is to find you a job.’

‘Give me a chance,’ Marianne groaned. ‘I’m still coming to terms with the fact that not only was I married to a crook but possibly an adulterer too. Some days I just feel like pulling the duvet over my head and staying there.’

‘But you won’t because you’ve got two great kids to look after.’ Helen squeezed her hand. ‘You’re having a rough time, Marianne, no doubt about it but don’t start feeling sorry for yourself.’

‘That’s a bit harsh,’ Marianne bridled.

‘Sorry, I’m not having a go at you, honestly, but if I held your hand, made you tea and let you just cry on my shoulder, it wouldn’t change things, would it? You have to dig your way out of this mess. Johnny and I will help in any way we can but it’s up to you whether you sink or swim.’

‘I have no intention of sinking!’ Marianne protested.

Helen smiled. ‘Good, I’m glad to hear it because everything’s going to be fine.’

Marianne stared at her in disbelief. ‘Fine? I have hardly any money, no job and may lose my house . . .’

‘You’ll have the rental money from this house, you’ll find a job, and there’s no point in worrying about the house unless you have to.’