Brothers & Sisters Read online

  She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. ‘You’re a good man, a good, good man.’

  ‘I’ve been called worse, I suppose.’ Kelly smirked at her softness. It wasn’t a side he got to see that often, but when he did, he enjoyed her. The third glass had given her just the right amount of rose tint that she needed to look at him with.

  He watched her as she fumbled out of the car and walked towards her building. Making sure to see her safely inside, Kelly made his way back through the stonewashed streets and parked outside the station for the third time that day. He patted his pockets and popped out another Rennie. His dinner had sent his insides on fire. He needed to catch up on the few hours he had been off for earlier that day. He smiled as he remembered Louise and her interest in his whereabouts.

  Taking two steps at a time, Kelly was back on the office floor in moments. He was itching to make a phone call and was quick to dial the number and wait for it to be answered.

  Chapter 12

  Tuesday Evening – 2016

  ‘I swear this day couldn’t get any worse,’ Tim said as they both shuffled, downtrodden, through Rose’s back door. ‘You go inside; do you want tea or something stronger?’

  The drive home from the hospital to Rose’s house had been filled with snippets of information, punctuated with disturbing silences. Rose for the most part had been stoic in her accounts and Tim had been silent and patient.

  ‘Tea,’ she answered resignedly. As bad as her day was, Tim didn’t want to compound it by telling her about Kilkenny. That’ll have to wait, he decided.

  ‘Well, I need something stronger.’ He rummaged through the knife drawer looking for a bottle opener. ‘I’m not terribly fond of these new screw cap bottles, pulling a cork from a full-bodied red makes it more of an event,’ he spoke to the empty kitchen. ‘I’ll open this one.’ He showed Rose the bottle he had pulled from the rack. ‘This one suits me.’ He smirked to himself. ‘Flighty, fragile, and prone to obstinately weedy flavors, it says.’ Tim handed her a steaming mug of black tea as he rattled off the description on the side of the bottle. ‘Speaking of “weedy flavours”, remind me to give Robert a call, he’ll be up to ninety.’

  Rose managed a smile on her pale face.

  ‘Well, what’s going on?’ Tim looked at Rose. He had been patient as he drove her home, had accepted that there was bad news and now he wanted the detail.

  ‘I haven’t been feeling great lately and I had been in with the GP. They sent me in to the neurology department for more tests.’

  Tim was relieved; he was waiting to hear oncology.

  ‘And what are they saying?’ Tim’s voice was low and deep.

  ‘Well nothing really, I told you already, they are just doing tests.’

  ‘What sort of tests?’ Tim said.

  Rose shrugged lethargically.

  ‘Well, what are your symptoms then?’ Tim concentrated on her face as he tried to read her expressions.

  ‘Mostly just tiredness, a complete lack of energy.’ She paused. ‘I’m always very dizzy in the mornings, so much so that it takes me an age to get going.’

  ‘What else?’

  ‘It’s in my muscles; they just won’t work properly for me.’ She was reminded of the stiffness in her hands and stretched them both in front of her. ‘It’s as though my body just won’t do as it’s told. My muscles have gone rogue,’ she snorted, attempting to lessen the seriousness.

  ‘I see.’ Tim was listening intently. ‘And what are the possibilities?’

  ‘Well, he’s mentioned Motor Neurone Disease or Parkinson’s. Like I said, they don’t really know; they are going to monitor me and keep testing.’

  Rose glided her feet into her slippers. She pressured the inner corner of her eye with her middle finger in an attempt to control the beads of tears that were queueing up to escape. Her beautiful brown eyes misted and glazed. Tim took one deep, long breath. He could read her eyes like a book; they had always told him what she was not saying. He had seen these sad eyes before and the story behind them didn’t have a happy ending.

  ‘Thanks so much for showing up at the hospital today. How is it that you always know when to show up?’ Rose said sniffling.

  He stood almost a foot taller than Rose and drew her up into his arms. ‘I told you, I’ll always find you, you’re my baby sister.’ Tim’s voice cracked as he uttered the words. ‘Whistle or no whistle.’ He joked. From the information she gave him, he feared the worst and struggled with himself to hold his resolve. ‘It’s not one bit fair, Rosie.’ He wiped his own eyes on his shoulder. ‘I’ll get us both a brandy.’ Tim decided as he broke away from the hug.

  ‘It’s the waiting,’ she said when Tim returned with the drinks. ‘The waiting to die. I won’t do it.’ Rose was resolute that she wasn’t going to be anyone’s burden.

  ‘There are a few high-profile people as well, with enough money to throw at anything, and if they haven’t been able to find a cure, or even a successful treatment, what hope do I have?’ Rose was pragmatic and knew she hadn’t the energy to climb the mountain that rose in front of her.

  ‘Like who?’ Tim queried.

  ‘Well, it depends on the diagnosis. There’s Michael J. Fox or Stephen Hawking and loads of others. All at the mercy of one of these bloody conditions.’ Rose’s frustration was beginning to turn into anger. ‘And there is not one thing that anyone can do about it,’ she exclaimed.

  ‘Well, Stephen Hawking revolutionised physics, we’ll just have to find you something to revolutionise too.’

  Rose was grateful for his wit.

  ‘Failing that, maybe we’ll get a DeLorean and go back to the future and discover a cure,’ he kidded. ‘Seriously though, it matters that you just don’t give up.’ Tim was almost forceful in his statement.

  ‘Just one rule,’ Rose spoke decisively. ‘No one is to know, I need time to think. Agreed?’ She raised her eyebrows waiting for his response. Tim nodded.

  ‘By no one, you mean Lizzie?’ Tim clarified.

  ‘For now, anyway.’ Rose answered.

  ‘Is it okay if I tell Robert?’ Tim asked. He had already texted him a brief update when he was pouring the brandy.

  ‘Sure, but let me get to grips with it first, okay?’

  ‘But, don’t leave it too long, I think you should tell Lizzie soon.’ Tim was forceful with his suggestion.

  Rose didn’t answer for a while, she didn’t feel able. It took a further two brandies in silence before she found her words.

  ‘You know what.’ Rose closed her eyes.

  ‘What?’ Tim drained the brandy from his glass.

  ‘I’ve had enough, enough of being at the mercy of someone or something else.’ She shook her head slowly. Tim tried to think of anything worthwhile to say but he was as angry as her and just as stuck for meaningful words. ‘Tim, thanks for listening, I really am just tired. Don’t mind me.’ She looked at her brother and felt sorry for burdening him. ‘I might just have an early night, it’ll all be better tomorrow.’ Rose tried but failed to reassure him.

  ‘You go on up.’ Tim stood and pulled her upright. ‘I’ll lock up and let myself out.’

  ‘Okay, good.’ It suited Rose for Tim to leave. ‘If you don’t mind, I will then.’

  ‘Grand.’

  ‘Thanks Tim.’ Rose kissed her brother on his cheek.

  ‘Goodnight, Rosie.’ Tim watched her up the stairs. ‘What about your prescription, where is that and I’ll pick it up for you in the morning.’

  ‘It’s on the table in the kitchen, beside my keys.’ She held the bannister to balance herself where she stood. ‘Oh Tim, was there something you said you wanted to talk to me about.’ Rose remembered their conversation hours ago and called down from the landing.

  ‘No, not at all, it’s not important, I’ll check on you tomorrow.’

  ‘Okay. Goodnight Tim.’

  ‘Goodnight Rose.’

  Tim locked the back doors and set the alarm. He rounded the house and wal
ked towards the stone-faced wall, waiting for his lift. He leaned against the wall and sunk his hands into his trouser pockets. He pulled out his phone and noticed the missed call.

  ‘Christ Almighty,’ he muttered to himself when he saw Detective Kelly’s number on the screen. ‘Is this day ever going to end?’ He hesitated before he pressed the button to return his call.

  ‘Detective Kelly, Timothy Fitzpatrick.’ He cleared his throat. ‘I’ve a missed call from you.’

  ‘Mr Fitzpatrick, yes, I’d like to speak to yourself and your sister,’ Kelly paused. ‘In person.’

  ‘I’m really not sure what help we can be.’ Tim considered telling him Rose was unwell and then decided against it. ‘And I’m not sure I’ll be able to get back down to Kilkenny any time soon.’ Tim sighed heavily and rubbed his face.

  ‘I’ve a few more questions; some other information has come to light. I might take a spin up your way, day after tomorrow, Thursday.’ Kelly was determined, if Timothy Fitzpatrick wouldn’t help voluntarily, he would find a way to force him. He didn’t say that though. ‘Why don’t you come in and see me in Harcourt Street Station, Thursday at two.’

  ‘Is that an invitation?’ Tim’s tone was curt.

  ‘Sure that’s all it is, save you coming down to Kilkenny.’ Kelly was eager to speak to him. ‘I’ll need to see your sister, Rose as well,’ he added.

  Tim didn’t speak, he didn’t trust himself to. He thought about the anguish he had seen in his sister’s eyes and hated Kelly for wanting to create more for her. His head was buzzing. He was starting to think of ways to put this intrusion to an end. The last thing he expected to have to deal with right now was this.

  ‘I see.’ Tim couldn’t manage anything else.

  ‘You know what, Detective Kelly; I’ll come in and see you on Thursday. I really just want this nuisance to go away. We have other things to be dealing with right now.’ Tim made a mental note to phone his solicitor first thing in the morning. He’d bring him with him if he needed to.

  ‘Right so.’ Kelly yawned. He decided he’d make Louise come to Dublin with him too. She could interview the sister. ‘I’ll see you both at two then on Thursday.’

  Chapter 13

  Wednesday Morning – 2016

  Lizzie pulled a pillow from underneath her head and flung it across the bed at Lucas. ‘Oh my god, who on earth is ringing at this time on a Wednesday morning.’ She didn’t open her eyes to check where the pillow had landed.

  The phone rang again.

  ‘Seriously.’ She groaned. Lucas’s phone had been responsible for disturbing Lizzie’s sleep more than once in the past six months. She was beginning to question whether or not it was a good idea to date a reporter that would never pass up any story that came his way, regardless of the time it happened at. ‘Turn it off,’ she grumbled and turned over in his bed.

  ‘Sorry.’ Lucas hauled himself upright in his bed and pawed the bedside cabinet, feeling for his glasses. ‘Its work, I’d say.’ He much preferred being at his apartment to hers, not just for the fact that it was closer to the city but because he needed to have access to his computer when a story came through.

  ‘No shit, Sherlock.’ Lizzie’s Irish accent always made him smile. ‘Seriously, you need to get a job that allows you to sleep at least a couple of hours at night.’ Lizzie turned in the bed, making as much noise with her hawing as the phone. ‘And me,’ she added. Since she had met him nearly six months ago, they had settled into a comfortable routine together, meeting each other’s friends, staying over in each other’s apartments, and sharing most of their evenings together, but the twenty-four-hour nature of Lucas’s job was the one thing that Lizzie complained about.

  ‘Actually…’ he squinted in the half-light of the morning sun that was sneaking through the blackout blinds, making sure he was right. He checked the clock: 7:30 am. ‘It’s not me.’ Smugly he flopped back onto his pillow. For once, her interrupted sleep wasn’t his fault and he knew how much she loved her sleep.

  ‘Oh.’ She groaned. She reached for her phone as quickly as she could, forcing her eyes to focus on the screen. ‘It’s Tim, oh my God! There must be something wrong.’ It wasn’t unusual for Tim to ring, as a matter of fact, they were in regular contact. It was Tim she told first about the night she had met Lucas and how he had shared his cab with her. It was Tim who she described their second date to and how he had brought her flowers and it was Tim who had heard of how he had made her feel. Tim was her confidant and from everything she had told him, Tim knew she was falling in love. But the last time she had an out of hours phone call, it had been to tell her that her dad wasn’t well, that had been before she met Lucas.

  Her hands shook as she tried to dial his number.

  ‘Tim, what’s wrong?’ she said.

  ‘Nothing love, don’t panic, did I wake you?’ Tim answered. Hearing the croakiness of her voice, he realised he had woke her up. He had waited till half seven deliberately, expecting that she would be making her way to the station at that time. ‘I didn’t mean to scare you. I just presumed you’d be on your way to work,’ Tim said apologetically.

  ‘Oh,’ Lizzie’s breathing began to regulate, her heart had skipped a beat; actually her heart had skipped several, with the fright. ‘I’m…’ She paused as she looked around Lucas’s impressive fourth floor apartment. It was only a twenty-minute walk to her offices on Jermyn Street from here. It was a pleasure not to have to use the train. ‘Yes, I’m just about to leave.’ she fibbed. As close as she was to Tim, it wasn’t really the thing you discussed with your uncle on a Tuesday morning while sleeping in your boyfriend’s bed.

  Lucas stretched and swung his legs to the side. ‘Coffee,’ he mouthed.

  She covered the phone with her hand and mouthed ‘Sorry’ back to him.

  He shrugged in response, early mornings were never a problem for him.

  ‘What’s up, Tim?’ Lizzie pulled herself together. She hauled herself back against the velvet headboard and tucked the crisp white duvet back around her and listened.

  ‘Well, there’s been a few developments,’ Tim said and while he wanted to reassure her that Rose was okay, he couldn’t bring himself to tell his niece a lie. ‘With Kilkenny, and that’s what I was ringing you about.’ He hoped that the Kilkenny story was enough to distract her from thinking there was something wrong with her mum. ‘I’m not sure that the news would make the London headlines,’ he sniggered, knowing Lizzie would appreciate his discreet reference to her new romance. ‘But there’s been a discovery.’ He paused for a moment to make sure she was listening. ‘Of human remains, on the land in Kilkenny.’ He paused again, waiting for her reaction.

  ‘Human remains, like a body?’ she said, shaking her head at the absurdity.

  Lucas returned just in time to hear words he could relate to. As a freelance crime reporter, these were supposed to be his type of phone calls. The very ones, that Lizzie complained about. He nodded at her for more detail.

  Lizzie pulled back the covers and waved the steaming mug Lucas had given her under her nose. She could taste the aroma before it even touched her lips. Gratefully, she sipped, savouring the deep russet loveliness of the Nespresso. Lucas had good taste, she decided, and not for the first time.

  ‘And the thing is, because we used to own the place, your mum and I have become “persons of interest” apparently,’ Tim said.

  ‘You’re kidding!’ she answered. ‘Persons of interest,’ she repeated.

  Lucas’s interest piqued further; this sounded right up his street.

  ‘No. Afraid not,’ Tim said. Lizzie could hear the seriousness in his voice. ‘The thing is, I was hoping to try and cheer your mum up a bit with, maybe, a surprise visit from her one and only, that’s if you were up for it.’ He scrunched his cheek in anticipation of her reply. The unusualness of his request was not lost on her.

  ‘I don’t see why not,’ she answered trying to sound nonchalant. ‘I’m sure I could arrange a few things in work thi
s morning.’ Mentally she checked her work to-do list. Recruiting C-Suite Executives for wealthy corporations was what she did and both the client and the busy executives that she was trying to recruit had been booked in her schedule for weeks now. It wasn’t going to reflect well on her to have to rearrange at this late stage.

  She watched Lucas as he stripped off for a shower. The glass shower wall clouded with the steam and he disappeared behind it.

  ‘When were you thinking?’ she asked Tim.

  ‘I was thinking maybe a long weekend, maybe this weekend, if it suited you?’ Tim said. He didn’t want to alarm her by insisting she come as soon as she could, but that was what he wanted.

  Lizzie detected the hopefulness in his voice. She was sure there was more to his request than he was letting on.

  ‘I do have a few interviews lined up for one of the big accounts, so I’ll try and get as many of those out of the way tomorrow and then try and get an early flight on Friday, would that work?’ If Friday was time enough, she wouldn’t compromise herself in work too much; give her boss less to complain about. She only had two appointments on Friday morning and she was confident he would cover her. ‘I’ll have a look at flights and let you know.’

  ‘Don’t tell your mum, though,’ Tim said. ‘It’d be nice to surprise her,’ he added.

  ‘I won’t,’ she answered and hung up the phone.

  ‘What was that about?’ Lucas said, when he came out of the shower a few minutes later. He pulled the blind up, revealing a grey damp sky, sprayed deodorant under his arms and wrapped a towel around his waist.

  ‘A body apparently, found on the old farm that my mother and uncle used to own,’ she explained. ‘And before you ask, no you can’t have the exclusive.’ She smiled; she knew exactly what he was thinking.

  ‘Well, what’s the point in sleeping with you if you won’t give me the exclusive on the family murders?’ he answered. His smile stretched wide on his face. ‘Seriously though, what’s the story?’ His curiosity got the better of him. ‘A murder in the family?’