The Stone House Read online

  ‘Maybe she just forgot?’ consoled Sheila as they said goodbye.

  ‘Maybe.’

  As she got into her silver Volvo, a feeling of concern overwhelmed her and shifting her car into gear she turned out of the Rossmore Road instead of heading home, determined to give her sister a piece of her mind for standing her up as she drove towards the Stone House.

  Forty minutes later Lucy, the senior secretary in Patterson’s Mergers and Acquisitions Department, broke the peace and quiet of the Research Library room.

  ‘Kate, there’s an urgent message on the phone for you. I didn’t know where you were and thought maybe you’d gone home early.’

  Home early! Kate raised her eyebrows. Some chance. She jumped up. Maybe something had happened about collecting Molly.

  ‘Was it Derry?’

  ‘No. It was a Mrs Quinn. She’s insisting on talking to you.’

  ‘Did she leave a number?’

  ‘She said she’s not at home in Rossmore but will phone you straight back. It’s urgent.’

  Aunt Vonnie. What was her aunt doing phoning her at work? Her aunt hated going through switches and secretaries and much preferred long rambling calls at night with a cup of tea or a glass of wine as they chatted. She was barely back at her desk when the phone went again.

  ‘Kate, is that you?’

  ‘Auntie Vonnie, what is it? Is everything OK?’

  ‘No, love. I’m sorry. It’s your mum. We were meant to meet in Lavelle’s for lunch today. She never turned up so I drove out to the house. She’s unconscious, Kate. They’re not sure if it was a fall, some kind of bleed into her brain, a stroke even. She’s in the Regional.’

  Kate felt the coldness in the pit of her stomach as she asked, ‘Is she breathing? Has she regained consciousness?’

  ‘She’s on oxygen. And no. The doctors are with her. They want to do all kinds of brain scans. They’re very worried about her, Kate. They asked me to contact her next of kin.’

  ‘God, Vonnie. Don’t say that. Mammy’s going to be fine.’

  ‘I don’t know, Kate. You need to get down here. See her. Talk to them.’

  Kate gripped the phone, not believing. Her mother was as strong as an ox, and never got sick. She hated hospitals and doctors.

  ‘Kate, you’ll come immediately! Your mother needs you.’

  ‘I’ll be down straight away. I’ll phone Moya and Romy, so don’t worry.’

  ‘I’ll stay with her, but you just get here as soon as you can, pet.’

  ‘Thanks, Vonnie. Thanks.’

  Kate put down the phone. Lucy was staring at her.

  ‘Are you all right, Kate? Is it bad news?’

  ‘It’s my mother. She’s been taken to hospital. My aunt is with her. I have to leave for Waterford immediately.’

  ‘Don’t worry. I’ll look after things at this end.’

  Automatically Kate began to clear her desk of sensitive documents and switched off her computer. Realizing she’d better tell Bill she had to leave early, she went to his office. He’d already gone and the sun was beating on his high-backed leather chair.

  She’d go home, grab a bag and some things before heading to Waterford, thanking God it was en route. Pulling her diary from her handbag she searched for her sisters’ numbers as she began to dial the 044 code for London. She cursed her sisters, wondering why they couldn’t be more like other families who supported and cared for each other. What had happened to them all? Moya so wrapped up with her own life in London and Romy who had simply taken off when she was not more than a kid and turned her back on the family. She’d never even bothered to keep in touch. Selfishly she had broken their parents’ hearts years ago. Worst of all, her youngest sister had made absolutely no effort to come home for their father’s funeral, something that Kate would never forgive her for!

  Moya had her mobile turned off, so she tried her home number instead, leaving a simple message telling her what had happened and promising to phone later.

  Kate eyed the row of modern silver and steel clocks on the wall. Hong Kong, Tokyo, New York and London. It was midday in New York, Romy should at least be up, she thought as she began to punch in the international code.

  Romy Dillon whisked the free-range eggs together, fluffing them up as she turned them into the hot pan. A little cheese, tomato and onion and she had the perfect breakfast. Outside the daylight teased her as New Yorkers rushed to work and shops in the bright sunshine. She would eat, work for a few hours and then call on her friend Diana. She switched on the coffee-maker just as the phone in the living room shrilled. Barefoot she raced across the bleached floorboards to get it.

  ‘Romy?’

  She almost dropped the phone, recognizing the voice instantly.

  ‘Romy, please don’t put down the phone. I need to talk to you.’

  ‘Is it Molly?’

  ‘No, Molly’s fine,’ answered Kate. ‘It’s Mammy. She’s in hospital, in the Regional. Vonnie just phoned me. She’s unconscious. They’re not sure what it is but the doctors told her to contact us. It’s serious, Romy.’

  ‘I heard you.’

  The distance between them lay empty, desolate.

  ‘Romy!’ screamed her sister. ‘You are a cold-hearted bitch. I don’t give a damn about you and what’s going on in that crazy head of yours. Mammy’s sick, dying, and the least you can do this time is to come home and see her.’

  ‘Don’t you dare tell me what to do!’ Romy said coldly, the pain ripping through her, for she had no intention of getting into an argument.

  ‘I’m not telling you what to do. I’m simply informing you about Mammy. It’s up to you if you want to come home or not to see her.’

  Romy’s mind was racing. She couldn’t think, didn’t know what to say. She would not make promises she couldn’t keep. Be pressurized by her sister into a knee-jerk response. She wasn’t going to be pushed into an automatic reply. She tried to gather her thoughts, protect herself.

  The silence lay heavy between them, harsh and cold as the Atlantic Ocean, worse than any distance.

  ‘Thanks, Kate. Thanks for letting me know,’ she said slowly as the phone went dead on the other end.

  Back in the small galley kitchen she scraped the burnt eggs into the sink, pouring herself a cup of coffee as she curled up on the padded window-seat. There had been no pleasantries, no niceties between them. How could she go back home? Return to the place she had left so long ago! Nothing had changed, so why should she even consider going back and dragging up the hurt and pain of the past and a time she still tried so hard to forget?

  Chapter Two

  THE RUSH-HOUR DART was crowded and Kate was fortunate to find a seat. The commuter train seemed to take an age as it crossed the river and pushed out along Dublin’s coastline passing Ringsend and Sandymount and Booterstown, Kate almost jumping out at her usual Monkstown stop. Molly had already been collected and the minute she entered their apartment she was greeted with a flying hug.

  ‘Mummy! Mummy, you’re home. Look what I made today.’

  Her daughter disappeared into the kitchen and emerged with an enormous painted pink and yellow butterfly that looked like it still might be wet.

  ‘It’s beautiful, pet. You’re a great little artist,’ she said, scooping her up and burying her face in the curly dark hair. Molly giggled as Kate pretended to bite her.

  ‘I have to get changed, darling, and drive down the country to see Granny.’

  ‘Can I come too?’

  ‘Not tonight, pet. Granny’s sick. She’s in hospital.’

  ‘I want to see her,’ pleaded Molly, putting on her begging face.

  ‘No, I’m sorry, Molly. Little girls aren’t let in the hospital. You have to stay home with Daddy. OK?’

  She could see the look of consideration pass over the child’s face as her lip wobbled and she decided whether to cry or not.

  Derry looked up from working on his laptop, papers spread out around the table. ‘Just trying to catch up. I
’ve a big meeting tomorrow. Listen, I’m sorry about your mum.’

  She felt guilty for dragging him away from clients and his own work at the design yard, but was relieved to know that Molly was so well taken care of as Derry doted on their small daughter. Emotion washed over her as he wrapped her in one of those big bear hugs that still unsettled her. She clung to him for a second, almost wishing that they were something more to each other than Molly’s parents and that she could stay exactly where she was for the rest of the night instead of driving down to Waterford.

  ‘You get changed and I’ll make you a cup of tea and something to eat before you leave,’ he offered.

  ‘Thanks.’ Tears welled in her eyes and she rubbed at them so Molly wouldn’t get upset too.

  In the bedroom Kate kicked off her shoes and hung up her black suit, pulling on a pair of beige corduroys, a long-sleeved T-shirt, a wool zip-up jacket in a creamy white and a pair of comfortable decks for driving. She grabbed a change of clothes, her pyjamas, some toiletries and her toothbrush, shoving them all into the green overnight bag. Molly was engrossed in the TV when she came back in the room and she slipped into the kitchen.

  ‘Don’t worry about anything, Kate, honest. Molly and I’ll be fine,’ reassured Derry. ‘You just stay with your mother. She’s the one who needs you. I’ll be able to collect Molly tomorrow if need be, and I can reschedule the next day if I have to. The O’Reillys might be a bit annoyed, but they can wait! I’ll have their brief finished next week.’

  She drank the hot sweet mug of tea, and ate the thin golden pancake with a shake of sugar and squeeze of lemon quickly; Molly came in to sit beside her. She watched Derry wipe Molly’s sticky hands, his sandy hair bent down over hers, infinitely patient. Not minding that his beige chinos had a layer of sugar on them. Minnie and her friends were always telling her that she was lucky to have Derry on the scene and that he was so different from most guys. He wasn’t one to shirk the responsibilities of fatherhood. She knew that, but sometimes she longed for more. Perhaps to feel that his weekly visits to her apartment and his involvement in her life were not just because of the dark-haired bundle of mischief the two of them had managed to produce. Funny, the only female that he could totally commit to was a three-year-old!

  She got up to go and made Molly swear to behave.

  ‘Listen, I’m sorry having to call on you like this. Are you sure you’re OK about it?’

  ‘We’ll manage.’

  ‘I don’t know what I’ll do if she dies!’

  ‘Hey! Come on, don’t talk like that. Maeve’s strong. She’s a tough Dillon woman. You’ll see, she’ll get through this.’

  ‘I’m not sure if she will,’ Kate said, trying to compose herself as she grabbed her car keys and kissed Molly goodbye.

  She cursed the heavy traffic and overcrowded roads and prayed that she would soon reach Waterford’s main hospital and find her mother much recovered. Aunt Vonnie wasn’t usually an alarmist but sometimes falls and head injuries looked a lot worse than they were. Her mother could be sitting up in bed talking by now, for all she knew.

  At the Wexford lights she checked her phone: still no reply from her older sister. Putting her foot on the accelerator of the Golf she passed a slow truck hauling cattle for the ferry, the animals staring balefully at her.

  She eased the car into fifth gear as she followed the Dublin to Waterford road hoping she would make good time. She put on the radio but couldn’t concentrate on the news so she switched to her Coldplay CD, the familiar music soothing her.

  It was almost dark by the time she reached the city. The shops and banks were shut. The streets were empty as she drove through it and out past the college and the glass factory to the Tramore road to the hospital, where she easily found a spot in the almost empty car park.

  ‘Kate! Oh, thank God you’re here.’

  Her aunt looked as if she had aged ten years in a few hours. Her naturally curly dark hair was standing on end, her face pale and strained as Kate hugged her tight.

  ‘How is she?’

  ‘There’s no change. I keep asking but that’s all they’ll say.’

  ‘Can I see her?’

  ‘There’s a nurse in the station there. Nurse Kelly. She’s expecting you.’

  The nurse was calm and gentle as she explained how they still had not fully ascertained what had happened to Kate’s mother. A massive bleed to the brain but the extent of the damage, and her chance of recovering, it was still far too early to say.

  ‘Can I talk to her doctor?’

  Dr Healy had gone home for the night but would be on again in the morning when her mother would be fully assessed by a neurologist and the team.

  Nurse Kelly passed Kate a gown and led her into the intensive care ward where her mother lay.

  Kate felt a chill pass over as she entered the long narrow room. She was unable to ascertain which of the high narrow beds held her own mother. Fear choked her as she realized they all almost looked like corpses attached to machines that forced air into lungs and monitored every minute change of rhythm and pressure. The nurse led her to the woman in a bed down on the right. It was her mother, her face calm, eyes closed, her skin cold to touch. She looked so different with the colour drained from her skin, her hair brushed back off her face, her grey roots showing. She was wearing a simple printed tie-back hospital gown. Kate automatically bent forward to touch her.

  ‘Why is she cold?’ she blurted out, trying to rub her mother’s arm and shoulder and warm her.

  ‘It’s better she is cool than hot with a temperature. The air here is kept at a regular temperature to make it easier for the patients.’

  ‘Mammy! Mammy!’ she whispered. ‘It’s Kate.’

  There was no response. She watched her mother’s face: closed, her effort now concentrated on breathing, the machine making a slow whooshing sound beside her. It scared her. She had never seen her mother like this.

  ‘She just looks like she is asleep. How long will she stay like that?’

  ‘We’ll know better tomorrow, be able to judge. For the moment she’s best left quiet, totally still. The brain is delicate, there’s still swelling.’

  ‘How much?’

  ‘We’re not sure of the extent of it yet.’

  Kate looked at her mother and wondered how she could have taken her life so much for granted. Her mother was never sick. Everyone in Rossmore knew that. Maeve Dillon was a woman with a fine constitution who kept herself healthy and fit with walking and cycling and swimming all year round. She didn’t smoke, didn’t overeat and only drank the odd glass of wine or pint of beer. She’d always looked after herself and following their father’s death had kept occupied with the Vincent de Paul work as well as playing bridge and helping with the local meals on wheels. Kate struggled to compose herself.

  ‘Can I stay with her?’

  ‘You can sit with her for a few minutes if you like, but as you see the nurses and doctors need to be able to get easy access to patients here quickly so there aren’t the same facilities for visitors as in another ward. There is a special waiting room just outside the door with coffee and tea and a place to put your feet up. Your mother is being totally monitored and if there’s even the slightest change in her condition you’ll be informed.’

  The nurse left her for a few minutes. It felt unreal balanced on the narrow stool waiting for her mother to wake up. When Kate was small she would grab at her mother and shake her and roll on top of her to wake her when she needed her, and her mother would reach and pull her daughter into her arms even when she was asleep or having a nap, the two of them laughing.

  ‘Mammy, I’m here with you. You’re in the hospital but you’re going to get better. I promise.’

  All around silence, except for the machines. She wanted to scream and shake her mother. Rouse her.

  ‘Mammy, please wake up.’

  Nurse Kelly appeared silently at her shoulder, suggesting it would be better if Kate wait outside for the moment. She f
ollowed the nurse out, hanging the gown on a hook.

  ‘Did you contact Maeve’s other children?’ the nurse asked.

  ‘Yes, I left a message for my sister in London and I spoke to Romy in New York.’

  ‘They realize the seriousness of your mother’s condition!’

  ‘I told them what my aunt said. I’ll phone Moya again.’

  ‘I’m sure you’ve done your best,’ smiled the tall dark-haired nurse. ‘You go and have a seat in the waiting room with your aunt and I promise to get you if you’re needed. You’ll be tired after the drive.’

  ‘I’m bunched,’ she admitted, feeling that every ounce of energy had drained out of her.

  ‘A cup of tea’d do no harm. Your mother is in the best of hands.’

  Aunt Vonnie sat pretending to read an old copy of Image magazine in the magnolia-painted room.

  ‘Well what’d you think, Kate?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ she admitted honestly. ‘I just don’t know. Do they think she’s going to die?’

  Her aunt’s pale blue eyes welled with tears.

  ‘I hope not,’ she said firmly. ‘Maeve’s a fighter. She won’t give up easily.’

  ‘But they were saying about swelling in her brain, what does that mean?’

  Her aunt shook her head. ‘We must pray for her. Prayer is what’s needed now. We must ask the Lord to spare her.’

  Kate didn’t know what to say. She hadn’t the same faith or belief as her aunt.

  ‘Would you like some tea or coffee?’ she asked.

  ‘A mug of tea would be grand, pet.’

  In the far corner of the room there was a sink and an electric kettle, mugs and cups, spoons and plates, and an assortment of different types of teas and coffee, packets of biscuits and milk and sugar.

  Kate was glad to busy herself, wiping around the sink with a cloth and cleaning the worktop.

  Her aunt looked wretched, she thought, as she passed her the hot mug of tea. ‘It must have been a shock for you finding Mammy like that,’ she said.

  ‘All I can say is thank God we’d arranged to meet for lunch and that I was so mad with her I drove over, otherwise God knows what would have happened!’