Liz Nugent - Lying in Wait

‘I just need a break.’

‘Are you going alone?’

A slight pause. ‘Yes.’

‘But why, and for how long?’

‘A week.’

‘A whole week.’ I was feeling quite hysterical now. I had never been on my own for a week before.

‘I’ll come with you.’

‘Mum, no, you hate travelling, you hate leaving the house. Why would you want to come to Rome?’

‘What will I do here on my own?’

‘What you always do.’

‘On my own?’ I couldn’t believe he was being so selfish.

‘Mum,’ he tried to use a soothing voice with me, ‘Mum… I think sometimes… that you have always lived a very sheltered life. You have always had someone to take care of you, but the world has moved on. Most women are out in the world now, holding down jobs and fighting for their rights, but it seems as if you don’t want any independence. You are not bad… or wrong at all, you’re just… unusual.’

‘Old-fashioned?’

‘A little. You don’t have to change if you don’t want to, but I live in the new reality and I like it.’ He paused. ‘You could ring your friend Malcolm. I’m sure he’d like to keep you company.’

I turned my face away.

‘It’s OK, Mum, for you to have a… friend. He seems like a very nice man.’

‘We… it’s not like that.’

‘Well, why don’t you ask Granny to come and stay for a few days? I’m sure she’d love to be invited. She’s always hinting at it.’

‘Oh, Laurence, if Granny came, we’d never get rid of her. She doesn’t even like me.’

‘Mum, I will move out sometime. I can’t live with you for the rest of my life. It might be an idea to think about Granny moving in, for company, like. If she were to sell the cottage, the proceeds would probably be shared between you and Uncle Finn. Think about it.’

I had already thought about it. I had talked to Eleanor about the cottage and what might happen to it if she died. She and I had an understanding. I had been of the opinion that Laurence understood too, that he would stay with me always, like I had stayed with my father. There was absolutely no need for him to move out. This whole recent business about Annie Doyle and Laurence’s involvement with her family was a huge mistake. I was beginning to think that Laurence no longer trusted me.

He made his travel plans regardless. He left the phone number of the hotel he was staying in. He urged me to call Malcolm, Finn and Rosie, or Eleanor if I was lonely. Two nights before his departure, his old girlfriend Helen turned up at dinner time.

‘How’r’ye, Mrs F!’ she said in her usual uncouth manner. ‘Laurence said you’d be on your own next week, so I’m going to call over and check you out while he’s away.’

I looked at Laurence in horror. ‘Check me out?’

Laurence looked at his knees and didn’t dare meet my eyes.

‘Yeah, you know I’m a nurse now? Might be useful.’

Helen seemed to be pleased to hear that Laurence and Bridget had ended their little friendship. ‘She never suited you, Lar. I don’t know how you put up with her wonky eye.’

‘Her…?’

‘Did you never meet her, Mrs F? You never knew if she was talking to you or the ceiling. Hilarious.’

It disturbed me that Laurence had been dating a girl who was disfigured. How could he? He should have known how important aesthetics were to me. Had I not set him a good example?

Helen prattled on. ‘I mean, when you started going out with her, you were a fat bastard, so you were even, like. But fair play to you for losing the weight. You look normal now.’

I shuddered at the girl’s vulgarity, but she was being coy in her compliment to Laurence. He looked fantastic. Like his father. I saw no reason to tell Laurence that I had assisted his weight loss. When he began his training programme eighteen months previously in earnest, I thought I could help him out and crushed the pills into his food. Phentermine. They had been prescribed to me when I was in the clinic to lift me out of my lethargy, but the side effect had been a suppression of appetite and bursts of energy. When I began to see Malcolm, it was no problem to acquire a pad of prescription papers and fill them in whatever way we needed. I had withheld the tablets from Laurence in the week before he went to Athlone: I thought food would be his reward for carrying out my wishes regarding the Annie letter. It wouldn’t matter what the Bridget family thought of him. I wondered how he would be in Rome. It was I that was keeping Laurence slim. Let him gorge himself in Rome. It might teach him a lesson.

I warmed to Helen. She could be my ally, and I might be able to use her in the future.

The night before Laurence left for Rome, he came home with a bloodied nose and scraped knuckles. My first thought was one of relief. He claimed to have been a victim of a mugging, but curiously he still had his wallet and his grandfather’s watch. And he refused to call the guards. He cleaned himself up and rang Helen for medical advice, but I could tell his face would be bruised. He wrapped ice in a tea towel and applied it to his eyes.

‘What a shame, darling. I know you were so looking forward to this holiday.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I’m sure you can get a refund under the circumstances.’

‘I’m still going.’

‘But, darling—’

‘Mum, I’m going. I’m fine.’

Why Rome? Why now? Who had struck my son and why? Why was Laurence keeping secrets from me?

At the departure gate, I tried to read the newspaper but the headlines about the death of Monsignor Horan, and the Spanish fishermen lost at sea, meant nothing to me. I reread them again and again, trying to stop my brain from going over the shock of the previous evening.

He had been waiting for me outside the office at the staff entrance. He grabbed me by the collar and slammed me up against the wall.

‘She’s my fucking wife. Stay away from her. This is your only warning.’

He punched me straight in the face, but I managed to turn my head by a fraction just in time so he didn’t manage to actually break my nose or cheekbone. I could tell that Dessie wasn’t entirely satisfied by the contact, but thankfully he thought he had made his point and walked away. Sally picked me up. She wanted to call the guards, but I insisted I was OK. There was no way I could ever be connected with Karen’s family by the guards in case it rang bells with someone who might have been around when my father was a suspect in Annie’s murder.

‘What was that about?’

‘I haven’t a clue!’ I said. But now I was more determined than ever. Karen was never going back to such a brute. Even if nothing ever happened between us, I would protect her from men like him, like my father.

As the tannoy in the airport announced delays, I noticed a certain charge in the atmosphere as people around me sat up straighter and turned their heads. Distracted, I looked up to see what they were gazing at. Karen was walking slowly towards me. She was even more beautiful than the last time I’d seen her. None of us could avert our eyes as she glided forward, fresh-faced, wearing a simple white shirt and a tiered sky-blue silk skirt. She wore a linked gold chain around one ankle. And she was coming to sit beside me.

‘Laurence?’

‘Hi.’

‘What happened to your face?’

‘A silly accident in work. A shelf of ledgers fell on top of me. You look great.’ Understatement of the century. I could actually feel the jealousy radiating from the other men sitting nearby. The women too were watching.

‘Did you tell Bridget you were coming to Rome with me?’ she said.

‘No.’

‘Me neither.’

She looked at me and I wanted to reach out and touch her face, but I stopped myself. I needed her to feel safe around me. More than anything, I wanted her to feel safe.