Page 63 of An Angel's Share
“Er, yes. Totally full,” she says loudly.
I watch her neck flush, and she pulls on her ear. She’s fucking lying. Why the fuck would she lie about that company? Give them an alibi? What the hell is wrong with her? There’s obviously something about that warehouse she doesn’t want anyone to know.
I shut down my emotions. I know she’s not the thief. I know it. But there was no chock a block fucking warehouse. No casks. Nothing. It’s a totally empty lot. I know because Iwent to look. I’d seen the invoices coming through the American company. But no fucking casks. Nothing. Not a thing.
I can’t look at her. Why is she lying so blatantly? I knew she was a shit liar the first time I got my hands on her, but this takes the biscuit. She’s not the thief, so why is she acting like she is? Is it something else? Has she done something she’s trying to hide?
She obviously didn’t know about the Trade Board competition. But the casks and warehouse? She knows. But she’s clever, I’ll give her that.
The Isle of Man was shady as fuck, and Patrick seems to think it can’t be traced back. But her name—sort of—is on it. It looks like for all the world that she set it all up.
My mind is spinning, but I’m starting to see the light. The mists are clearing, but why is she lying about California? Why? Why? Why? She’s so bothered about the business, it must be a front. Fucking hell, she’s good. So fucking good.
29
Aoife
Oh God,California. The scene of the crime. My crime against Jonno. I’m so embarrassed about what I did. What I intended to do. I know I’m bright red, my embarrassment there for all to see. The cask storage company—I never got there. Landed and went out with my university friend. Shopping, hairdressers, cinema, bars and more bars. Then the club where I met Jonno.
The next day, I stood outside that pharmacy for over an hour. They thought I was some sort of pharmacy stalker. Red or black. Miss Roulette. Take it, don’t take it. Baby or no baby. I was so freaked out by my decision to let chance take its course, I hopped on a plane home to New York. I told everyone I’d been to the company. I needed a cover story. And when I confessed about my sperm donor, I told Mammy it was at a clinic in California.
So many lies. Oh, what a web we weave. Shakespeare had that right. Maybe I’ll dump Seamus and Dervla, call my baby William, or Willamina.
I never even went near the storage company, but I’ve lied twice now about it. Covering for my lack of fortitude.
I should have contacted Jonno. Who contemplates having a baby and leaving the other party in the dark for their own ends? Me. Dr Aoife O’Clery. I did that. So embarrassing. And shameful. So shameful. I feel so ashamed of myself.
I spoke to the manager, though. At the cask company. He seemed really nice. Said all was very quiet, but that we were nearly full. A bit of space, but not much. Told me we needed to start selling some of the whiskey.
I need to pull myself together and tell the truth. Confront my demons. If it comes up again, I need to tell my daddy, Marshall, Dermot the truth. Tell them I never went as I was too busy getting drunk in bars, acting like a university fresher. Then later, got knocked up in a sex club by a total stranger who turned out to be Jonno Greystone. Yeah, right. Great conversation starter. Or more likely showstopper.
I get back to the business in hand. “We’re not taking that money,” I state it with authority. Daddy looks distraught. Is this why he’s been ill? “We’re defrauding the Trade Board, and while I can’t stop this year, we won’t be doing it again next year. And any money we get will go back out through charity work in the local area and around Ireland.”
Patrick starts to splutter. “We will be spending it. I have plans for it. Bonuses for us all. I’ve told the staff they will be getting a windfall double last year. I can’t go back on that. And I have personally made some seriously good investments that need to be paid for pronto. So we will be taking that money.” His conviction is undeterred.
“Okay, pay the staff then, but not us. And any remaining, out it goes. It is not going on the balance sheet. It’s fraud,Patrick. Plain and simple. Can’t you see that?” I’m desperately trying for him to see the issues.
“Don’t be ridiculous. We are trading casks of whiskey. We are exporting, we are not lying.” He’s adamant.
“We are by omission. We’re trading with ourselves. We control the flow to ourselves. We can increase or decrease. The fact they can’t tell it’s us is just semantics. It is us. We know it is. We have to give the money up, and not keep it to ourselves. And it has to stop. In fact, it does, here and now.” My voice projects my absolute conviction of this course of action.
I look around the room. Daddy and Dermot look embarrassed. They knew and didn’t stop it. Marshall looks shell-shocked. The minions look pissed off with me.
But it’s Jonno's reaction I can’t fathom. He suddenly looks pale, but the blank look is back, and he’s not looking at me anymore. The energy he’s been pulsing out at me all meeting has been completely switched off. It’s just as if he’s switched off a tractor beam. Before he was pulling me in, now it’s gone. Nothing is coming my way, good or bad.
“Who else knows the real truth about the International Trade Board? About the companies belonging to us, and the cousin on the inside?” I demand. If this gets out,O’Clerysreputation across the world will be shattered.
“Just the people here.” Patrick sweeps his arm around the remaining seated minions.
“None of the other heads of departments? Have any of you told or spoken about this?” They shake their heads. “Suzanne, have you been privy to this discussion?” I swing my head around to the woman cowering in the corner. Patrick looks surprised to see her there. As if he’d forgotten she was.
“I’ve been in the discussions, yes. But I never noted anyof it down. It’s not in the minutes. Only the fact we won.” She looks unsure as to whether she’s done the right thing.
Patrick just looks bemused. He does not get it.
“Right, I want NDAs signed by everyone in this room. Including you, Suzanne. And know this, if this ever comes out, I will sue. Regardless of cost. I will also turn over the dealings you’ve done. I’m sure there will be a lovely paper trail of all that whiskey.”
Patrick sputters out, “You’re overreacting. How will anyone know whose company it is? We’re not on the paperwork. It’s a trust, as you directed.”
