Desperately Seeking - By Evelyn Cosgrave Page 0,37

ever been exactly happy?’

‘Well, what was he saying?’

‘Oh, just that she was working very hard and she wasn’t around much in the evenings. She always had somewhere else to be. He wasn’t saying anything in particular, but he seemed a bit concerned about her.’

‘Concerned she’d tire herself out? Or concerned she was going to leave him?’

‘Oh, I don’t think he had any notion she was going to leave him. He just seemed a bit… bothered, you know?’

‘Yeah,’ said Marion. ‘He was a bit quiet that night.’

‘Was he?’ I asked, trying to remember.

‘You probably didn’t notice, but he was a bit off form.’

‘So what do we do now?’

‘I’ll go and check on Mum,’ said Ruth, getting up.

‘Hold on a minute,’ said Lucy. ‘Don’t go fussing her.’

‘I’m not fussing her. I’m just concerned about my mother.’

‘Look,’ said Marion, ‘we’re all concerned about her. Let’s give her a few more minutes.’

Ruth sat back down with a thump and crossed her legs with vigorous intention.

‘What do you think, Dad?’ I asked him, suddenly aware that he had been silent all this time.

‘I think,’ he said slowly, ‘that whatever’s going on, they’ll sort it out eventually.’

Just then Mum appeared in the doorway, pale and drawn but otherwise quite well. ‘I’ll have that cup of tea now,’ she said.

‘I’ll make it,’ said Ruth. ‘You put your feet up. I’ll get you a little sandwich too – your blood sugar’s probably gone very low.’

‘Just the tea will be fine.’ Mum came fully into the room and sat on the edge of the couch. ‘I can’t believe she’s done this.’

‘What exactly did she say?’ asked Marion, gently.

‘What did she say? She said she was leaving her husband! Leaving Mike! Mike! She was lucky to get him and now here she is leaving him. She won’t get another husband, not at her age.’

‘Did she say why, Mum?’

‘She did not!’

‘Like, do you think it was a sudden thing, as if they’d had a row, or do you think it was something she’d planned?’

Mum considered this. ‘You know, I think it was planned. Yes – yes! She said she’d thought about it for a long time. Yes, that’s what she said.’

Marion and I looked at each other.

‘Had she ever mentioned being unhappy, Mum?’ I asked.

‘Oh, Jean’s always complaining about something. Of course, if she had children she’d know what it was like to have something to complain about. And she certainly wouldn’t go walking out on her husband if she had children.’

Jean’s refusal to start a family had always been a sore point with Mum.

‘Children don’t automatically fix things,’ said Lucy.

Suddenly I was reminded of Keith’s presence by the particularly annoying sound of him repeatedly clearing his throat. ‘Honestly, Keith,’ I said, transferring my frustration to my fiancé, lurking uselessly by the door, ‘you should go home. You’re exhausted and there’s no need for you to be here.’

‘But how will you get back?’

‘I’m perfectly capable of getting myself home. You could do with going to bed.’

‘Poor Mike,’ Mum continued. ‘He would have loved a son.’

‘OK, OK,’ said Marion. ‘We’re getting off the point here. So, we can’t contact Jean. At worst we’ll hear from her in two weeks when she comes back from Dublin. Mike isn’t answering his phone but he has to be at home some time so we could go out to Kilconnel and try to talk to him.’

‘That’s a good idea.’

‘I’m afraid you’ll have to count me out, though,’ said Marion. ‘Nick isn’t back till tonight and I can’t leave the kids with his mother any longer.’

‘No problem,’ said Lucy. ‘Kate and I will go out. OK, Kate?’

‘Fine.’

‘I’ll drive you,’ said Dad.

‘I’ll drive you,’ said Keith, already fingering his car keys.

‘No!’ I said firmly, then added, more softly, ‘No, you go home, Keith. You’re wrecked, and if we do find Mike he might be a bit embarrassed in front of another man.’

‘But how will you get out there?’

‘Ruth will drive us, right, Roo?’ Lucy said, as Ruth returned, carrying a tray laden with tea-things.

‘What will I do?’

‘Drive Kate and me out to Kilconnel to find Mike.’

‘Oh… ahm… of course, but… Well, you know him much better than I do… He mightn’t like…’

‘We don’t want your counselling services, just a lift in your car.’

‘Well, OK, then.’

And so it was decided. Keith headed back to the flat while we piled into Ruth’s brand-new people-carrier. We left Mum picking her way through crustless sandwiches and dainty fingers of fruit cake while Dad took up the newspaper and drank his tea in