Page 67 of An Angel's Share
“I can’t get her on her own. I don’t want to go into her room, she’s locking the door.” Jonno sounds exasperated, and worried.
“Pick the lock, then,” Evie commands. Clearly the criminal brains in the family.
“No. I’ve done that in the past, but I can't. I don't want to piss her off any more than she clearly is. And I’m not prepared to upset her. She looks like she might burst into tears every minute of every day.” His voice sounds strained. “I’m trying to get her alone to tell her about Liam, but she is making it hard. She’s obviously not interested in me. She’s told me that. I have to respect what she’s said to me. Asked of me. I’ve got to consider the baby.”
He sounds so down. Tears spring to my eyes. There’s a long silence, but he starts again asking them, “Where are we at? Do we have any idea when he’ll move the money?” I hear shuffling of what sounds like paperwork. “When is the balance due on the apartments? Did you get the developer to do what you wanted, Evie?” His voice is low and commanding, but I can hear the tinge of anxiety in it.
“Yes, all set there. Any monies he pays will be held by the developer, but the legals will be cocked up. So we canstop the completion, but not return the money to him. He’ll never pass a money laundering check. It’s Christy’s anyway, so I don’t feel bad at all.” She sounds smug.
“Are we telling Patrick?” Jackson’s voice filters through the door.
“No, he can’t be fully trusted not to open his mouth. He might not believe what we say. Let’s wait.” Jonno’s applying logic. I agree with him.
“How do we think we can make Liam start to move that money? So we can intercept it en route. Is James all set up?” Jude’s voice asks.
“He’s ready. We may need Aoife, but I daren’t fucking ask. Can you imagine that conversation? I love you, you are my world. I don’t care if you were the thief, but I knew you weren’t. I just had to prove it. But I always knew deep down you weren’t. I was loving you anyway. Oh, and by the way, we know the thieving scum bag is Liam who tried to set you up, baby. So can you help me catch him please?”
I can hear the distress in his voice, and I hear Evie make a noise like she’s crying. Jonno confirms my suspicions a moment later. “Don’t cry, Kitten. It wasn’t your fault,” he tells her gently.
“Yes, but it hasn’t helped. I did ask about names, and to be fair, I did ask because I had seen that form from the Isle of Man. But also because I was interested in her and the baby. I love your baby, Jonno. I want Aoife to know how much we love her, how much you love her. How much you were prepared to accept because you love her. Please, Jonno, just pick the lock, baby bro. Talk to her.” She’s still imploring him to break every law under the sun to get to me as they leave the room.
I sit in the tiny room for at least two hours. The Greystones are long gone, but I can’t seem to move. Mybrain, however, is spinning like the planets. My feet are swelling up, and I need to move. They know Liam is the thief. My head is awash with questions. What form was Evie referring to? How do they know? And more importantly, what am I going to do? I’m not sure I can answer these questions on my own. I keep spinning back to the only logical solution to my problems. Talking to Jonno. But I can’t do that. So I decide to do nothing.
I want to go find him. But how can I trust him? He actually thought I was a thief. How could he have listened to me ramble on about my family, thinking all the while that I was stealing Daddy’s money. I just can’t get my head around it. I need to carry on as normal, at least until I can get Daddy out of the hospital. I’ll talk to Daddy and then sort him out.
Daddy arrives home,with Mammy patrolling the hallways and having his visitors restricted. He’s sitting like some sort of mafia don as she ushers people in, hovering over them, ensuring they don’t say anything to ‘over excite’ him. She’s literally writing scripts and handing them out at the door. Her controlling behaviour has been given a free pass, and it’s taking full advantage.
I walk past the list of pre-approved topics she tries to hand me as I enter, and I’m sure if I was not the best part of seven months pregnant she would be rugby tackling me to the floor. As it is, she can only glare at me with conviction, daring me to ‘say the wrong thing’—i.e. talk aboutO’Clerys.
“Aoife, come sit, daughter, and tell me what has been decided about the business.”
Mammy throws her hands in the air and storms off.
“You did that on purpose,” I say to him as I kiss hischeek. He grins at me, looking, to be honest, so much better. It’s as if a weight has been lifted from him.
Mammy struts back in, cutting her eyes at me, as I lift my shoulders in a ‘I did not do anything’ way.
“Things are moving well. Evie has done the plans, and they are sensational. I would never have believed the things she’s decided to use from the warehouse. I think I thought she would do a quaint chintzy coffee shop. But instead, it’s more industrial chic. With lots of whiskey paraphernalia repurposed.” He nods at me, so I carry on. “We’ve got the projections for the new range, and Marshall is really happy with the IPA blends now. I’ve decided to market it?—”
Mammy aggressively interrupts me. “Aoife, why don’t you just stop getting involved. You’ve got Christy having a go at her mother, thinking she is running this house.” She’s tossing her head like an agitated horse. I think I even hear her whinny. “I mean, Christy running that coffee shop. You marketing our whiskey on your own.” She’s listing our jobs like a crime wrap sheet. “You’ve got rid of everyone, there’s no one left.” She points her finger at me imperiously. “Well, don’t you think you’re getting your father back involved, if that’s your plan.”
My mouth is gaping at the vitriol spewing from my own mother’s mouth. Fuck this. She needs to get behind us, or get out of my way. She’s making things harder for everyone, not easier. But I know if I go in all guns blazing, we’ll have a world war. With Daddy in the middle of it. So I tamp down my annoyance and go for placating. My voice soft and calm.
“Mammy, I’m trying to save the roof over your head. You need to stop listening to idle gossip.” I put my arms out towards her, trying to make her see sense. “We are going under. If we don’t stop the rot, it will happen.”
“Pfft, you need to let the boys get on with it. It wasworking fine.” Her glare could cut glass. Her tone, one of complete disdain. I’m not having it. Clearly the sensible approach is wasted on her.
“It was not.” I’m raising my voice now. “You need to?—”
“I need not do anything, the same as you,” she fires back.
“Mammy—” My voice has raised to a shout as she steps away from me, my face the picture of fury. She’s just about to open her mouth again, no doubt to attack me, as Jonno appears at the door of the lounge and heads straight into the confrontation.
“All alright, Aoife?” He takes in my red face. “Mae, what’s going on? Seamus, you alright there?” He’s trying to deflect Mammy to focusing on her sick husband, but no, she’s on a roll.
“My daughter seems to have forgotten her manners. And who she is shouting at.”
“Don’t make ridiculous statements, then. Mammy thinks I should let Liam and Patrick carry on sinking the company. And just ignore it.”
