Maeve Binchy - Evening Class

What she would have liked was for him to get that side of things over with outside the home and be a loving friend within it. She would have been happy to share his bedroom and his plans and hopes and dreams. Was this utterly unreasonable? It seemed a hard punishment to be cut off from everything because she wasn't able to mate with him in a way that gave him pleasure. She had after all produced four fine children for him, and surely he could see that this rated some way in his evaluation of things.

Connie knew that some people thought she should leave Harry. Vera, for example. She didn't say it straight out, but she hinted at it. And so had Mr. Hayes in the hotel. They both assumed she stayed with him only for security. They didn't know how well her finances were organised and that she could have left that house a woman of independent means.

So why did she stay?

Because it was better for the family. Because the children needed both parents there. Because it required so much bloody effort to change everything and there was no guarantee that she would be any happier elsewhere. And it wasn't as if this was a bad life. Harry was courteous and pleasant when he was there. There was plenty to do, she had no trouble filling the hours that turned into weeks, months and years.

She visited her own mother and Harry's parents. She still entertained the partners and their wives. She provided a home for her children's friends. The sound of tennis balls on the court, or music from their rooms, was always in the background. The Kane household was highly regarded by the next generation because Mrs. Kane didn't fuss and Mr. Kane was hardly ever there, two things people liked in their friends' parents.

And then when Richard Kane was nineteen, the same age that Connie had been when her father died and left them bankrupt, Harry Kane came home and told them the dream was over. The company was closing the very next day with the maximum of scandal, and the minimum of resources. They would leave bad debts all over the country, people whose investments and life savings were lost. One of his partners had to be restrained from committing suicide, the other from fleeing the country.

They sat in the dining room, Connie, Richard and Veronica. The twins were away on a school trip. They sat in silence while Harry Kane laid out how bad it would be. Across seven or eight columns in the newspapers. Reporters at the door, photographers struggling to capture images of the tennis court, the luxurious lifestyle of the man who had swindled the country. There would be names of politicians who had favoured them, details of trips abroad. Big names associated once now denying any real relationship.

What had caused it? Cutting corners, taking risks, accepting people whom others had thought unreliable. Not asking questions where they should have been asked. Not noticing things that should have been noticed by more established companies.

'Will we have to sell the house?' Richard asked. There was a silence.

'Will there be any money for university?' Veronica wanted to know. Another silence.

Then Harry spoke. 'I should say to you both now at this point that your mother always warned me that this could happen. She warned me and I didn't listen. So when you look back on this day, remember that.'

'Oh Dad, it doesn't matter,' Veronica said in exactly the same tone that Connie would have used had her own father been alive when his financial disasters emerged. She saw Harry's eyes fill with tears.

'It could happen to anyone,' Richard said bravely. 'That's business for you.'

Connie's heart felt glad. They had brought up generous children, not little pups expecting the world as a right. Connie realised it was time to speak. 'As soon as your father began to tell me this bad news I asked him to wait until you could be there, I wanted us all to hear it together and react to it as a family. In a way it's a blessing the twins aren't here, I'll sort them out later. What we are going to do now is leave this house, this evening. We are going to pack small suitcases, enough to do us for a week. I'll ask Vera and Kevin to send round vans to pick us up so that any journalists already outside won't see us leaving in our cars. We'll put a message on the machine saying that all telephone queries are to be addressed to Siobhan Casey. I presume that's right, Harry?'

He nodded, astounded. 'Right.'

'You will go to stay with my mother in the country. Nobody will know where she is or bother her. Use her phone to call your friends and tell them that it's all going to be fine in the end, but until it dies down you're going to be out of sight for a bit. Say you'll be back in ten days. No story lasts that long.' They looked at her, open-mouthed.

'And yes of course you'll both go to university, and the twins. And we will probably sell this house but not immediately, not at the whim of any bank.'

'But won't we have to pay what's owing?' Richard asked.

'This house doesn't belong to your father,' Connie said simply.

'But even if it's yours, wouldn't you have to…?'

'No, it's not mine. It was long ago bought by another company of which I am a director.'

'Oh Dad, aren't you clever!' Richard said.

There was a moment. 'Yes, your father is an extremely clever businessman, and when he makes a bargain he keeps it. He won't want people to be out of pocket, so I feel sure that we won't end up as villains out of all this. But for the moment it's going to be quite hard, so we're going to need all the courage and faith we can gather.'

And then the evening became a blur of gathering things and making phone calls. They moved out of the house unseen in the back of decorators' vans.

A white-faced Vera and Kevin welcomed them both into their home. There was no small chat to be made, no sympathy to be offered or received, so they went straight to the room that had been prepared for them, the best guest room with its large double bed. A plate of cold supper and a flask of hot soup had been left out for them.

'See you tomorrow,' Vera said.

'How do people know exactly what to say?' Harry asked.

'I suppose they wonder what they'd like themselves.' Connie poured him a small mug of soup. He shook his head. 'Take it, Harry. You may need it tomorrow.'

'Does Kevin have all his insurance tied up with us?'

'No, none of it,' Connie spoke calmly.

'How's that?'

'I asked them not to, just in case.'

'What am I going to do, Connie?'

'You're going to face it. Say it failed, you didn't want it to happen, you're going to stay in the country and work at whatever you can.'

'They'll tear me to pieces.'

'

'Only for a while. Then it will be the next story.'

'And you?'

'I'll go back to work.'

'But what about the money all those lawyers salted away for you?'

'I'll keep as much as I need to get the children sorted, then I'll put the rest back in to pay the people who lost their savings.'

'God, you're not doing the Christian martyr bit on top of everything else?'

'What would you suggest I do with what is after all my money, Harry?' Her eyes were hard.

'Keep it. Thank your lucky stars that you saved it, don't plough it back in.'

'You don't mean that. We'll talk about it tomorrow.'

'I mean it. This is business, it's not a gentleman's cricket match. That's the whole point of having a limited company, they can only get what's in it. You took your bit out, what in God's name was the point if you're going to throw it back in again?'

'Tomorrow,' she said.

'Take that prissy po-faced look off you, Connie, and be normal for once in your whole goddamned life. Stop acting for five minutes and let's have less of the pious crap about giving the poor investors back their money. They knew what they were doing like anyone knows. Like your father knew what he was doing when he put your university fees on some horse that's still running.'