Lying in Wait(70)

There was silence on the other end of the line.

‘Laurence?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Did you write those letters pretending to be my sister?’





19


Laurence


I allowed my mother to think that she was dictating the second Annie letter, but hers was too impersonal, too callous for what I knew of Annie’s temperament, so I tore it up and wrote another one later, using the words I thought Karen needed to hear. I remembered Karen saying something about a set of paints that Annie had been going to buy her before she disappeared, so I bought a set and included them in the package. I knew it would give an air of authenticity to Annie’s story. Karen would be reassured that Annie still loved her. That was important to me.

I got the bus to Athlone that Saturday, knowing from Mr Monroe that Bridget had been transferred to Mullingar so there was no chance of my bumping into her. It was a simple task: get off the bus, go straight to the post office and then back to the station to catch the same bus returning to Dublin.

Mum was waiting eagerly for my return. She had some news. She had been shopping and bought herself a whole new wardrobe. There was expensive wine in the drinks cabinet and smoked salmon in the fridge.

‘We got the cottage!’ she exclaimed. Apparently, Granny had left her cottage to us. The contents, which included some nice pieces of antique furniture and noteworthy paintings, had been left to Uncle Finn and Aunt Rosie. Eight years previously, my father had encouraged his mother to sell her four-bedroom Victorian house in Ballsbridge and buy an isolated cottage up on top of a cliff in Killiney. He had invested the balance in those disastrous Paddy Carey deals that came to nothing. Mum planned to sell the cottage and pocket the proceeds to spend on luxuries we had not been able to afford for a long time. I was again dismayed by her apparent glee. The counterfeit letters were of no consequence to her. She didn’t even ask about my journey.

Some days later, Uncle Finn came to the house with Aunt Rosie. I welcomed them courteously, but Uncle Finn was in no mood for niceties.

‘My mother’s will. I’m hoping you’ll do the decent thing,’ he said, addressing himself to me.

Mum intervened. ‘It was Eleanor’s wishes. You aren’t suggesting that she was of unsound mind?’

‘No, but you must see how unfair it is. Andrew was the one who lost our inheritance, and you are the only one to profit from what’s left.’

‘She left the contents to you. It’s not as if you got nothing.’ My mother was trying to be reasonable.

Aunt Rosie glowered at me. ‘You owe us.’

Why were they looking at me? Mum breezily dismissed them. ‘You are not going to contest it, are you, Finn? Drag us through the courts and make a public spectacle of the family?’

‘Of course not, but Laurence is old enough to decide for himself what happens.’

I didn’t understand. ‘Me? Why me?’

Uncle Finn glared at my mother. ‘You haven’t even told him the full truth, have you?’ He turned to me. ‘My mother left her cottage to you, Laurence. Not to Lydia, just to you. For your independence, she said.’

Mum was defiant. ‘Yes, and Laurence sees no reason why he should share the proceeds with you.’

Aunt Rosie was furious. ‘You might have told him, Lydia. Well, what do you think, Laurence? Are you going to sell up and keep the money for yourself or are you going to share it with us, like a decent person?’

Mum stood behind me and put her hands on my shoulders. ‘I think it’s appalling the way you are trying to bully my son. I must ask you to leave. Right now.’

Mum saw them to the door.

‘The nerve of them! Who do they think they are, trying to tell us what we can do with our inheritance? Your father would be livid if he could see how things were turning out. Don’t mind them, Laurie. That cottage is ours and we’ll do what we want with it.’

‘Mine. The cottage is mine,’ I corrected her.

‘Of course, darling,’ she said, flashing her most dazzling smile. She continued to rant about Uncle Finn and Aunt Rosie.

‘How could you not tell me about this, Mum?’

‘Don’t make such a fuss, Laurence. How does it make any difference?’

‘But, Mum, it isn’t fair. They should get at least half the value of the cottage.’

‘Why? Why should they get anything? Eleanor knew exactly what she was doing. Finn and Rosie can afford their eight children, and if they can’t, well then, they shouldn’t have had so many.’

My mother tried to hide her jealousy of Aunt Rosie’s ability to successfully bear eight children.

‘We have struggled. You know I never liked to complain, but I would like us to live in the manner to which we were accustomed. Back when your father died, everyone was trying to get me to sell this house and move into a nasty little flat, and I know it’s been a big responsibility for you to keep us here but now we can relax a bit. You have earned it, darling.’

Helen dropped in later that evening. Mum and she were on good terms now, since Helen had been so ‘helpful’ around the time of Granny’s funeral. I even got the impression that Mum would quite like us to rekindle our teenage romance. She made a point of leaving us on our own.

‘Granny left me her cottage in her will.’