A Keeper(49)

She felt so useless and detached. Tears of frustration began to form.

This was her own baby boy they were talking about. She barely trusted him to pick up groceries from D’Agostino’s. How could he be responsible for another human life?

‘Look, maybe it’s not that bad.’ Elliot was trying to sound calm and reasonable now, which made his ex-wife feel the exact opposite.

‘What are you talking about? Not that bad? It’s a fucking baby, Elliot!’

‘I know. I know that, but it’s not like she’s a teenager. She doesn’t want to get married to Zach.’

‘He’s seventeen!’ Elizabeth couldn’t help interrupting.

‘But that’s the point. She’s in her mid-thirties. I’m pretty certain she didn’t plan for this to happen, but now that it has, she must be thinking that she might as well keep it or she may end up never having a baby. I don’t think Zach is part of her plan.’

Elizabeth had to admit this made sense, which in one way was a relief but in another broke her heart for her son. She imagined how he must be feeling. Along with the fear, she knew that he would be puffed up with mannish pride. But if Michelle Giardino just wanted to walk away with the baby, he’d get over it, and there would be other grandchildren with a better sense of timing. She wondered if she was a heartless bitch for thinking this but quickly told herself that she was simply concerned with what was best for her son.

‘OK. Well, I’ll talk to Zach and then we can all figure out what happens next. Is she staying in California?’ she asked hopefully.

‘No. Heading back to New York in a day or two before they stop her flying.’

Elizabeth’s heart sank. It would be on her watch.

‘Great. Talk soon. Goodnight.’

‘Bye.’

Elizabeth dragged herself into the middle of the bed so that there was less chance of her sliding down the slope of the mattress onto the floor. She slipped under the light duvet and turned out the lamp. The glow from her phone lit up the room and she tapped on Zach’s name to call him. It rang. She waited. No reply and finally it went to voicemail. She sighed and hung up. She imagined Zach with Michelle, looking at ‘Mom’ blinking on the screen and telling his girlfriend horror stories about her. Her mind began to calculate the number of months that Michelle Giardino, maths tutor, had been coming to their apartment. At once a week at seventy dollars an hour that she couldn’t afford, this baby had already cost her thousands of dollars. Her mind whirled with all the things she wanted to say to Zach and Ms Giardino. How would she ever sleep?

She woke seven hours later still clutching her phone. Noises were coming from the kitchen and there was the distinctive smell of frying bacon. Elizabeth rubbed her face and yawned. Hopefully breakfast would be better than the meal her landlady had provided the night before. She was starving.

Auntie Eileen was standing in the middle of the kitchen floor with a tea towel draped over her arm when Elizabeth walked in. It looked as if she had been waiting. The artificial glare from the aquarium made the room seem more suitable for an autopsy than breakfast.

‘Good morning! Tea or coffee for you?’

Elizabeth normally preferred coffee but thought that tea was a safer bet. The table was set for one and she took her place. A small glass of orange juice stood beside a rack of toast which Elizabeth assumed must be cold. It was. This was in stark contrast to the plate her hostess took out of the oven and placed in front of her. The only clue to how long the plate had been in the oven was provided by the wrinkled dried-out state of the two sausages and strips of bacon. They looked like something that might have been found in a Neolithic tomb rather than on a menu. She sighed and reached for her tea. Perfectly good. Oh well, a liquid breakfast was better than nothing.

‘How was your night?’ the old lady enquired.

‘Good, thanks.’

Auntie Eileen stood by the side of the table, leaning forward. Clearly she expected more details.

‘It’s a very sweet pub.’

‘Yes, yes.’ A vigorous nodding in agreement. ‘More tea?’

‘Oh yes, please.’ Elizabeth pressed her fork against an unyielding sausage. ‘So I was going to try and see that lady you spoke about last night. The one by the Co-op. I’m sorry I don’t remember her name.’

‘Cathy Crowley,’ Auntie Eileen reminded her as she poured the tea. ‘But amn’t I after having a much better idea. Her mother, old Mrs Lynch, lives in a little bungalow there beside them. She’s some age but she still knows it all. Sharp as a tack. Anything you want to know about Castle House or the Foleys, she’s your woman.’

Elizabeth felt encouraged. She might get more answers than she had expected. ‘Thank you so much. I’ll do that.’

Auntie Eileen sucked her finger and then absented-mindedly dabbed some crumbs off the table and ate them.

‘I was thinking last night about that place.’

‘Castle House?’

‘Yes. I was just wondering if you’ll be back?’

‘Back?’ Elizabeth was slightly bewildered. Why would she ever come back to this place?

‘Well, you know, maybe you’d use it as a holiday home.’

Elizabeth felt so foolish. For a moment she had completely forgotten that she was a property owner in Muirinish.

‘I had just thought that I’d sell it.’ But even as she said the words she wondered if that was what she really wanted.