Maeve Binchy - Quentins

"Yes," Tom said, giving nothing away.

"Slightly," said Cathy, making sure that she was even more distant. They knew where Ella was, but that it had to be kept a secret.

"Would you have any idea where she is now?" he asked politely.

"None at all, I'm afraid," Tom said.

"Not a clue," Cathy said.

"Now, that's a pity .. . I've been asked to give you some money for a debt that was overlooked. Inadvertently, of course. Around seven hundred euros, I think."

Tom and Cathy looked at each other, astounded. "You're from Rice and Richardson?" Cathy said, stunned.

"No, alas, I'm not, but let's say I'm a friend of one of the people involved, and he felt bad that there had been this misunderstanding and shortfall."

"I'm sure he did," Cathy said.

The man opened his wallet. "He asked me to get it to you personally. He's not a man who likes to leave bills unpaid." The man paused as he laid the seven notes on the small table. "And he'd be very grateful if you could ask Ella to call him at this number."

"Well, this is great to get the money," Tom said. "But we don't have any idea where Ella is."

"So if one depends on the other," Cathy began, "then we shouldn't take the money."

"No, keep it. It might remind you of where she is."

"We know where she is," came a clear voice. Tom and Cathy looked in horror at Maud.

Was there a possibility that Ella might have been so foolish as to mention anything to those children?

"Go back to the kitchen, Maud, please," Cathy begged.

"You don't know anything about Ella's whereabouts," Tom said.

Simon was stung by the unfairness of this. "We do know," he said mutinously.

"And where is that, exactly?" the man was interested.

"She's gone to hospital," Simon said triumphantly.

"She's having a piece of her head put back on," Maud added. "It will take two weeks, altogether."

The man looked at Tom and Cathy as if for confirmation. They both shrugged.

"Could be, I suppose," Cathy said.

"Quite possible," Tom agreed.

The man turned and left without saying a word. As he went down the cobbled lane they saw him pause and take out his mobile phone.

I guess he's calling Spain," Cathy said.

Ts that where the hospital is?" Simon said. I thought it might be in America, from something Ella said."

Tom let his breath out slowly. "And why didn't you share that view with the gentleman when he was here?"

I wasn't sure. It's just she said something about spending her last dollar on something but it could have been just an expression."

"It could," Cathy said, holding Tom's hand in relief.

"Will you be mating again when the baby is born?" Maud asked.

"Probably. If we have the energy," Cathy said.

"Does it take a lot of energy?" Simon was interested.

"Back to the kitchen, everybody," Tom suggested. From the corner of the road, the man phoned Don Richardson. I'm not having much luck, Don. Nothing from the filmmakers, her parents, that restaurant; and nothing from the caterers."

He listened for a while and then nodded. "All right. Plan C then, as you say." Ella looked at Derry King open-mouthed. "You're never going to Ireland!" she said, astonished.

"Not if I can help it, no."

"Then what are you doing, talking about making a movie there?"

I'm not making it, you are." He spread out his hands to show how simple his argument was.

"But what have we been talking about if you don't ... if you never intend .. . I'm sorry, Derry. I don't understand." She looked hurt and annoyed.

I don't have to love Ireland to invest in a movie about it. Anyway, from what I see it's not a hymn of praise to the place . . . it's showing up all its weaknesses, all this new money, greed, so called style."

"We didn't say that .. ."

"Well, that's what it came over like, people imitating Europeans."

"But we are Europeans!" Ella cried.

"No, you said it was warts and all ... just a minute ago."

"Derry, there's something very wrong here." She looked down at her notes. "I've been talking to you in this coffee shop for hours and I must have been giving you completely the wrong message."

"I have, for personal reasons of my own, no love for Ireland," he said. "The legacy of my father is not one that would make me go and look for my roots. I was interested in this project because I thought you were sending them up."

"But you have the initial notes from Nick."

"He said it would be frank and groundbreaking. That's why I'm here ... to learn how."

"And what have you learned so far?" Ella felt a cold lump of disappointment in her chest.

"I've learned that we have stayed too long in this coffee shop. We should have a break now, then I'll send a car for you and take you to a meal. All this talk about food has made me hungry."

She was afraid to let him out of her sight. "They have a restaurant here ..." she began.

"No, they don't, not a real restaurant. Car will be here for you at seven. Okay?"

"One thing before you go."

"Sure, fire away."

Til be talking to Nick. Will I say it was all a misunderstanding, the whole thing?"

"Why would you say that?"

"From what you said, I thought that it had been."

"Hey, we're only into talks about talks so far. The real talks are way down the road."

"But I couldn't betray this restaurant, none of us could. I mean, we'd have to cancel the project if that's what you wanted."

I understand, and I respect you. Seven p.m." It was an awkward telephone conversation. "I'm not getting the whole picture," Nick said.

"Neither am I, to be honest. Could I leave it that we're in talks about talks?"

"Not really, Ella. We've invested all we can in this; we're both in a bit of a panic."

"That makes three of us, or possibly four. Derry could be in a bit of a panic as well. It turns out that he hated his father and he hates Ireland."

"I don't believe you."

"That's what he told me. Will I ring you when I get back? It will be about three or four a.m. your time."

"Don't bother, Ella. Leave it till tomorrow." Ella wore Deirdre's black dress and red jacket. She had taken a large handbag, which was big enough to hold papers and photographs without looking like a briefcase. A chauffeur collected her.

"What restaurant are we going to?" Ella asked chattily.

The chauffeur pronounced the name of the place with awe, and as if it were the only possible place to go if you were the guest of Mr. King.

He was waiting at the table. He wore a dinner jacket. In a way he looked quite as formal as he did in the photographs in those clippings she had read so carefully on the flight over to New York. Yet those interviews and articles told very little about him. They gave no hint of his enthusiasm and willingness to work at something until it "was achieved. They didn't speak of how his face lit up when he thought they were getting somewhere. He was a very keen businessman, out of her league.

Suddenly Ella felt a wave of inadequacy. "I hope I'm dressed enough," she said.

"You look very nice," he said.

"Your wife was not able to join us tonight?"

"Not for many nights," he smiled.

"Sorry, that's another thing I got wrong," she apologised.

"No, you looked up your files perfectly correctly. You just didn't get to the bit where it says "Marriage Dissolved"."

"Was that a long time ago?" Ella tried to be as cool as he "was being.

"Oh, ten years, I'd say, but it's hard to remember because we meet every week at the foundation, you see."

"Does that work? Well, obviously it does because otherwise you wouldn't both be able to do it."

It does work, remarkably well as it happens, and Kimberly is remarried and goes out a lot at night. I don't, so we rarely meet in the evenings. But we met this afternoon. She was most interested in the project, and she will join us tomorrow."