"No, just a mad mother. You don't ever talk about yours."
"Nothing to say. She's quiet, lives her own life. Lets other people live their own lives."
"How admirable of her!" Ella began dialling her mother. "Listen, Don's gone out to get his car. What did you want to say?"
"Have you seen tonight's evening paper?" her mother asked in clipped tones.
Ella pretended she needed to get some milk and coffee. She went around to the convenience store. The evening paper had a big gossip column spread over two pages, and specialised in lots of photographs. "Who is the blonde on Don Richardson's arm as he comes back from Spain? The tycoon from the troubled R and R
firm doesn't look as if he is suffering any of the anxieties that their customers report. R and R need not mean Rice and Richardson, maybe Rest and Relaxation." There was a picture of Ella and Don laughing happily together at Dublin airport.
Ella felt the energy drain out of her as she leaned against the doorway of the shop. She read the whole paragraph again.
She was there in full view of the whole of Dublin described as a blonde in the same tone as you might say she was a tramp. What would people say or think?
But more frightening than any of that, what did it mean that Rice and Richardson was a troubled firm? Could they seriously be in any financial difficulty? Could Don be in danger? The newspapers always exaggerated about things but surely it was dangerous to imply that a company was in trouble unless it were true? The newspaper could well be sued.
When she got back to the flat, Don was still bent over the computer. She laid the newspaper on the table and went into the kitchen. She needed tea or coffee, something to stop her trembling.
"Anything you'd like, Don?" she called, forcing her voice to sound normal.
"Oh, peace of mind would be nice," he said with a hollow little laugh.
"Two of those on toast then!" she said, trying to laugh. But she wasn't laughing at all.
He left the computer and came across to the table where she put a large whiskey and the paper folded in front of him so that he could see the picture and caption.
"This is what caused the alarm bells with your mother, I suppose?" he said.
"You've seen it?" she said, shocked.
"Yeah, Ricky got an early copy."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
I told you before, Angel. Let me worry about the work side of things."
"But this isn't about the work side of things," she said, bewildered.
"What else is it about, Ella? Once clients read that other clients have reported difficulties, there'll be a run on the place. Ricky and I have to get our strategy right."
She looked at him, dumbfounded.
"What is it, Ella?"
"The picture, the picture of you and me." "That's not important."
"What?"
"I mean, compared to all the rest that could be going down."
"But your wife, your father-in-law, my parents, everyone . . ." Her voice was shaky.
"Listen, Angel, believe me, that's the least of our worries." His
face was white and strained. He looked really ill and it alarmed
her. So, it was true. Something was wrong. What was happening?
But Don was so on top of everything.
"Don, you are going to be able to sort all this out, aren't you?" "Oh, yes. There's always plan B." He gave a mirthless little laugh.
"What's plan B?"
"It's an expression. If this plan isn't working we have to turn to another. It's just a phrase."
"Do you have a plan B?" she asked.
"There are loads of plans, but I didn't want to have to change to one of them. I like things the way they are." He looked around the room almost wistfully.
Ella felt herself shudder for no reason.
He downed his drink and became all businesslike. I have to go out to Killiney."
I thought you said she was in Spain."
I go out there for a lot of other reasons than to see my ex-wife, as I tell you over and over, Angel."
"Will you be coming back tonight, Don?"
"No, but I tell you, I'll take you to a big treat lunch tomorrow in Quentins."
"We can't, not after the picture of us . .." She indicated the evening paper.
"Nonsense. Everyone will have forgotten that - yesterday's news. Once they know their money's safe, they won't mind how many blondes parade through airports with Ricky and myself." He saw her face. "Joke, Angel."
"Sure." She saw he was packing his few things in a suitcase. "Getting rid of the evidence?" she said, and wished she hadn't.
"Should be ready for whatever hits the fan." He smiled. "Please, Angel, I'm stressed out enough as it is. Tomorrow, Quentins, one o"clock. I'll tell you everything then."
He was rushed and fussed. Calm, cool Don Richardson, who always moved languorously, wasn't moving like that now. Twice he put down his briefcase, his coat, his overnight bag, the evening paper. Twice he picked them all up again. She must not allow him to leave thinking she was in a sulk.
"Come over here and kiss me goodnight then, if I'm not to have the pleasure, the great pleasure, of you tonight." She ran her hands all over him and he began to respond.
But he pulled away. "No, Ella angel, that's not fair, that's using weapons that haven't been invented yet . .. Let me get out of here before we end up in the sack."
"Nothing wrong -with that," she said into his ear. But he escaped her clutches and ran out of the door.
Then suddenly with a shock she saw his briefcase. He had left his laptop. Did that mean he was stressed or what? He never parted from it for a moment. But at least it meant he was coming back. She had been s o nervous when she saw him packing his things and looking wistfully around the room.
Ella wasn't hungry. She put away the food she had been about to cook. She called her mother and said that it was idiotic to get into a tizzy about what a stupid paper wrote. And that it was just a picture of friends who had met at the airport or on the plane or whatever.
"Or on a holiday in Spain," her mother said.
"Or that," Ella said.
"Your father and I wondered."
"It's a mistake to wonder too much," Ella said.
"Don't be offensive, Ella."
I'm sorry, Mother. I'm just worried about something else, as it happens."
Ts he still there? In your flat?" her mother whispered.
"No, Mother, I'm all on my own. Come round and check."
"I only want what's best for you. We both do."
"We all want what's best. That's the problem," Ella said with a great sigh and hung up.
Then she phoned Deirdre. It was an answering machine. "It's Ella, Dee. Be very glad you're not at home. I was going to groan and grumble and complain for a bit at you, but, well, now I can't. You must have seen the paper. It's not as bad as it looks. Don is very confident about it all, and I'll know much more after tomorrow lunchtime so I'll tell you everything then. Do you remember when we thought that life was a bit tame and dull? Wasn't it nice then?"
She hung up and sat at the table for a long time. She knew she wouldn't sleep, but she had better go to bed and try.
At three she got up despairing, and made tea. At four she opened the laptop computer. She typed out the word "Angel" that he had said was the password. It didn't come to life as it had when he typed it. It just said Password Invalid. She closed the machine and waited until dawn. Then she dressed carefully and went to the school. She supposed that she must have taught her students normally, on some kind of autopilot. But she couldn't remember a word she had said. Then it was lunchtime, and she drove to Quentins.
Chapter Four.
Mrs. Brennan ushered her to a table for two. "Will you have a drink while you're waiting, Ms Brady?" "No, thanks. I have to teach this afternoon. Better not be breathing fumes over them. One glass of wine with lunch will be my limit."