Second Time Around (23 page)

Suzie stared at her. ‘I never realised.’

‘Why would you? It’s been so gradual. I probably only notice it because I don’t see you often.’

‘Oh, I hope you’re right, Nora.’ Suzie’s eyes filled up. ‘I so hope that you’re right.’

Nora slid across and put an arm around her. ‘Hey, don’t cry. You should be happy. Go and have a nice day with Douglas.’

Suzie wiped her eyes and nodded. ‘Yes. Yes, I will.’

‘What are you two going to do?’

Suzie looked surprised. ‘Do you know, I have no idea? I was so relieved to have a few hours off, I never asked.’

‘It doesn’t matter, does it? You’re happy simply spending time with Douglas.’ Nora smiled affectionately at her friend.

‘I am. He’s a lovely man and makes me feel good. He’s better than any meditation session. Shit. That reminds me. We have a class tomorrow night. Do you think I’m changed
enough to be trusted to spend time with Sharon without telling her that her son is driving me round the bend?’

Nora grimaced. ‘Probably not. It might be safer if you let her go alone. Anyway, if you spend the evening worrying about letting something slip, the class isn’t going to be much use
to you, is it?’

‘True.’ Suzie yawned and rubbed her eyes.

Nora looked at her, worried. ‘I don’t like you being this tired. The doctors said you had to get plenty of rest and avoid stress.’

Suzie gave a wry smile. ‘Funny, that’s exactly what they told us about Sharon. Don’t fuss, Nora. I’ll be right as rain after a nice break and a good night’s sleep.
Now, I’m off for a blow-dry. I was too bloody tired to do my hair myself this morning, so I decided to treat myself.’

‘Good for you.’ Nora stood to hug her. ‘Have a lovely time.’

When she was alone, Nora picked up her phone and called Jess. She was sure the girl knew the stress her mother was under but she wanted to hear Jess’s version of events.

‘It is hard work,’ Jess confirmed with a sigh when Nora filled her in on what Suzie had said. ‘There is something wrong with that child: his behaviour is odd
at best and exhausting and sometimes . . .’

Nora’s ears pricked up when Jess hesitated. ‘Yes, sometimes?’

‘He’s violent, Nora. He gets into a rage and lashes out, and he may be small but, believe me, he’s strong.’

Nora was shocked. ‘But he must be the same with Sharon and Keith. How would they not have warned your mum what she was letting herself in for?’

‘I think Mum knew all along,’ Jess said. ‘As for Keith, I’m not sure what he knows or doesn’t know. Either Sharon’s keeping him in the dark, he’s in
denial or he’s an idiot.’ Jess went on to tell her all about the binder Sharon had prepared all about her son. ‘You wouldn’t believe the detail. It’s clear that she
knows there’s something wrong.’

‘Keith must know and is sticking his head in the sand.’

‘Maybe Bobby behaves better when his dad’s around. Oh, I don’t know, Nora,’ Jess said, sounding fed up. ‘I really don’t.’

Nora bit her lip, wishing she could help. She’d been worried about Suzie before the call, but now she felt even more anxious. ‘Has Bobby hurt your mum?’ The moment of silence
confirmed her worst fears. ‘Oh, no.’

‘Nothing serious, Nora. Just a few scratches and a couple of bruises.’

Nora knew it wasn’t her business but she couldn’t keep silent. ‘Jess, your mum is still recovering. And, apart from tiring easily, she’s so thin now that Bobby could
easily knock her over. What if she had another fall? What if she hit her head again?’

‘I hadn’t thought of that,’ Jess admitted, sounding worried.

‘Sorry, Jess. I don’t mean to scare you. Maybe you and Noel should have a chat with Keith or Suzie’s doctor. Oh, I don’t know but someone must be able to help. And, if
you want me to come and stay with your mum and help out, Jess, no problem. You only have to call and I’ll hop in the car.’

Jess thanked her and, after chatting for a few more minutes, rang off as one of her editors was on hold. Nora felt bad about burdening her but she was truly worried. She felt that Suzie’s
health was at risk and what kind of a friend would she be if she said nothing?

Jess put down the phone, feeling both scared and defensive. She chatted to Beth, who’d been on hold, making some notes as the editor told her what she wanted.

‘I’ll need it by Monday. Can you do that, Jess?’

She groaned inwardly but forced herself to give a sunny confident reply. ‘No problem, Beth. I know exactly the angle I’ll take.’

‘I knew I could rely on you. Thanks, Jess. Talk soon.’

Jess tossed the phone onto the sofa and stared at her screen, her mind on her mother. What was the solution to this problem? Jess knew why her mother was keeping the truth from Sharon. It was
the same reason she and Noel were. They were all terrified how it would affect Sharon’s health. At first Noel hadn’t paid any attention when she and her mother complained about Bobby.
Until he witnessed, first-hand, one of his nephew’s meltdowns. Noel had tried to restrain Bobby and was shocked as he’d fought back, kicking and punching. Noel arrived another day to
find Jess rubbing cream into Suzie’s arm where Bobby had pinched and twisted the skin because she’d tried to make him eat his vegetables. Now, they’d reverted to bribing the
child. By the time Keith arrived he was usually in front of the TV, eating ice cream.

But Nora was right. They had to do something. She thought of Cal’s suggestion that they meet up and figure out a way of dealing with Bobby. That was an excuse to try to find out what was
going on with Noel, but now she realised they really could do with Cal’s advice. If he didn’t have any answers, she wasn’t sure who else to turn to.

Jess parked the car and ran down the street to the offices of
Femme
, stopping outside the door to catch her breath, smooth back her hair and
straighten her clothes. Shoulders back, she walked in, smiling broadly at the receptionist.

‘Hi, Rhona.’

‘Hey, Jess. Amelia sends her apologies, she’s running a little behind. Can I get you a coffee while you wait?’

Relieved to have more time to compose herself, Jess thanked her, sat down and took out her phone. She sent a text to her brother asking him to call round later this evening and to bring Cal with
him. They needed to talk about Mum and Bobby. She sent Cal a copy of the message. Within seconds she had two replies.

That done, Jess tucked the phone into her pocket, switched on her laptop and gave her full concentration to her notes as she waited to go into the meeting.

Suzie walked out of the hair salon, crossed Dame Street and wound her way through the alleys of Temple Bar. Douglas had sent her a text to say that he was waiting in a pub on
Fleet Street. She checked her reflection in a shop window – looking good – before going inside the busy pub to look for him.

‘Suzie!’

She turned to see him beckoning her from a table by the window and wriggled her way through the crowd to join him. ‘Wow, it’s packed, isn’t it?’ He smiled as she dropped
into the chair next to him, and leaned over to hug her. He looked good, younger somehow.

‘A coach party just arrived,’ Douglas explained. ‘You look lovely, Suzie.’

‘I look wrecked,’ she retorted, ‘but I got my hair done to make me look less so.’

‘It sounded like you’ve been having a really tough time with your grandson. I felt for you.’

‘It would have been worse if you hadn’t been at the end of the phone,’ she assured him.

He grinned. ‘Talking to you has never been a hardship. Now, shall I get you a drink or would you prefer to go somewhere quieter?’

‘Let’s go for a walk,’ she suggested.

He stood up and held out his hand to her. ‘Let’s.’

They wandered along through the shoppers and street performers, chatting, and finally found themselves in the National Gallery where Suzie listened, fascinated, as Doug showed her his favourite
paintings and talked about the use of light and standard of brushwork, throwing in some funny anecdotes about the artists themselves.

He looked down at her in amusement. ‘You’re really getting into art, Suzie Clarke, aren’t you?’

‘I am,’ she admitted. ‘It must have something to do with the bang to the head. I always appreciated a nice view or a pretty picture but it would never have occurred to me to
visit a gallery. That was the sort of thing for the likes of you and Pamela, not someone like me.’

‘Rubbish. Art belongs to everyone,’ Doug assured her.

Suzie shrugged. ‘Maybe, but if you’d told me a few years ago that I’d be content to spend my afternoon off in an art gallery, I’d have laughed my head off.’

He squeezed her hand. ‘Hungry?’

‘Famished,’ she said and realised how late in the afternoon it was. The time had flown.

‘Chinese or Italian?’

Suzie wrinkled her nose as she thought about it. ‘Italian. I fancy something with lots of garlic, washed down with lots of wine.’

‘I thought you had a two-glass-only policy,’ Douglas teased.

‘Fuck that,’ she said and clapped her hand over her mouth as her words echoed round the enormous room.

He threw back his head and laughed. ‘Aw, Suzie, don’t ever change.’

She looked at him, thinking her kids wouldn’t agree. She banished the thought. She was on her day off. She clocked a security man glaring at them. ‘I think we should get out of here
before that geezer throws us out.’

‘Come on, then.’

‘Bye now,’ Suzie called out and gave the man a cheery wave before following Douglas out into the sunshine.

‘You’ve spent the last couple of weeks listening to my woes and I know so little about what you’ve been up to since . . . since you left. Travelling and writing,
obviously, but what else?’ They were sitting sharing a plate of antipasti and sipping a crisp white wine. She could get used to this. On a day like this with good food and great company, she
could forget all about her cares and responsibilities.

‘Travelling and writing is quite time-consuming,’ he pointed out, flashing his gorgeous smile.

‘You know very well what I want to know, Doug Hamilton. There must have been women, especially now you’re famous as well as rich.’

He laughed. ‘Travel writers are rarely either.’

‘Stop avoiding the question,’ she retorted, glaring at him.

‘I told you, Suzie. There have been no women.’ He kept his eyes on his wine. ‘I grew out of all that.’

‘I won’t tell Mandy tales out of school, if that’s what’s worried you.’

He shook his head, his smile sad. ‘There’s nothing to tell. I’m a changed man, partly because of you. I have a lot to thank you for, Suzie.’

‘Thank me?’ She frowned, confused. That wasn’t the way she remembered it. If anything, it was the other way around. He had given her a job when she was pregnant, put a roof
over her head when her dad threw her out and stood firm when his wife demanded he evict her. She could still remember Pamela’s outrage when he’d moved her into the flat over his
garage.

‘When I stepped down as MD and had the bypass and you moved in’ – Doug sighed – ‘that was one of the most difficult periods of our marriage. Escaping to see you
kept me sane. Looking back, I think I’d have left Pam, only I knew if I did, she’d throw you out. So, I hung in there and, because we were forced to stay together, we stopped arguing
and started talking, really talking, for the first time in years. If it wasn’t for you, Susie, I wouldn’t have had those last few precious years with my wife.’

Suzie reached for his hand. ‘Life is so fucking unfair. Pam was far too young to die and so soon after you’d sorted out your differences.’ She shook her head as she remembered
the way Pamela’s eyes had lit up when she looked at her husband in those last couple of years. She’d transformed from a cold, hard woman into a warm and tender one. ‘She was so
happy, happier than I’d ever seen her.’

‘I was, too.’ He put a hand to his mouth and Suzie’s heart broke at the hopelessness in his eyes.

‘Sorry, Doug, I didn’t mean to bring you down.’

He opened his eyes and smiled. ‘You didn’t. It’s nice to be able to talk to someone who knew her. I’m so glad you got to see what she was really like.’

‘She loved you, Doug, and I know that you adored her. But you were always such a flirt. Has there really been no one since?’

‘Ah, Suzie, I’d forgotten how direct you could be.’ He chuckled.

She frowned. That was the second time he’d referred to her being the same as he remembered. ‘You don’t think I’ve changed?’

Doug put his head on one side and looked at her as he considered the question. ‘You’re more confident,’ he admitted, ‘but, then, you’re older and have been a wife
and mother, so that’s to be expected. That apart, yeah’ – his smile was full of warmth and affection – ‘you’re still my Suzie.’

She shook her head and reached for her wine. ‘Makes you wonder. Anyway, you were telling me what happened after you left CML.’

‘When I left Ireland, I took the first flight I could get a seat on,’ he told her. ‘I ended up in Chicago and, yes, I’ll be honest, I drank too much and played the field
for a while. There, satisfied? You wouldn’t believe the number of women who are attracted to a sad, unshaven man with an Irish accent. But I soon got bored of hanging out in bars, feeling
sorry for myself. I never was cut out to do nothing.

‘So I went to Boston and got work as a tour guide. I found the route a little unimaginative so I came up with my own alternative, specifically aimed at Irish and British tourists. That did
quite well, so I was given the task of setting up similar operations in New York and Washington DC. That’s when I started to take notes about the different places I visited and anecdotes
about locations or personalities that the other operators missed. One man asked what other countries I arranged tours of and so I decided to take the business to Europe.’

‘But not Ireland.’

He shook his head. ‘No. I was asked to, many times, but I wasn’t ready to come home. I started off with the obvious places – Paris, Berlin, Rome – but the Eastern bloc
was the unknown and it attracted me. I suppose I was still running away. I was ahead of the game, though. There were hardly any English-speaking tourists interested in going there. But I went
anyway and wrote about the places I visited and submitted them to their tourist departments. Soon I was being commissioned to write specific pieces to draw tourists to the lesser-known
areas.’