I’m prepared to go wherever the search takes me. I might get some useful information about Vicky Murphy, or, if I can pluck up the courage, drop Noel’s name into the conversation. Maybe she’ll allude to why she wouldn’t shake his hand at Vicky’s funeral.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
‘Ah, you get used to it, don’t even notice it after a while,’ Deirdre says, in a much gruffer voice and certainly with a heartier attitude than Olive’s. I didn’t know how to break the ice when they’d stopped swooning over the baby, so I asked how they lived with the constant smell.
‘When I started here it was worse,’ she continues.
Olive is pouring hot water into three mugs.
‘There was no dividing wall between the offices and the factory… the noise was pretty bad too… biscuit?’ She takes a packet from a drawer and places it on the table.
Shay is nodding off in the car seat on the floor beside me. His little eyes begging him to close them. I’ve already had apple pie that I didn’t want today and now I find myself lifting a chocolate digestive from the plate in front of me. My plan to get back into a size ten for the christening is not going well. This had better be worth it.
Olive is mainly quiet, contributing just a word here and there or a laugh. She’s allowing Deirdre to conduct the conversation. When I get the chance, I bring up the subject of all the presents Shay received, and the cards. Deirdre nods like a car toy, Olive listens and smiles. ‘But there was one card…’ I say, my gaze focused on Olive. ‘Whoever sent it forgot to put their name on it… I’m afraid I won’t be able to thank them.’ I say this hoping it might stir a telltale sign in Olive. A red face, a freeze, something that might signal she knows what I’m talking about. But there’s nothing, just a shrug of the shoulders as she lifts her cup to her lips.
‘Don’t worry about that, Laura,’ Deirdre says. ‘We’ll tell you as soon as they start complaining that you never thanked them. That sort of talk travels quick around here.’ She laughs, stands up and walks over towards the kettle. Olive grins. ‘You can bet on that,’ she says. I thought about mentioning what was written in the card. And I might have if I was alone with Olive, but I fear Deirdre may be lead singer in the local gossip choir so I say nothing. After all, Olive might just be a good actress.
‘As I said, Laura, I think you’re going to have to wait until someone gives out about you,’ Deirdre says as she walks back to her chair. I take this as my signal to leave.
‘Thanks for the tea and biscuits,’ I say, standing and noticing the photographs on the wall behind me. ‘Oh, who are all these?’ I say moving closer to the wall.
‘Oh, that’s the Caldwell brewery family album,’ Deirdre says.
And that’s exactly what it looks like. There are snaps from the Caldwell brewery family fair, the Caldwell brewery Christmas party, the Caldwell brewery summer fair. It looks like everyone in the village gets invited. Pride of place at the centre of the shot is Conor, holding a trophy in the air with one arm. My stomach turns when I see his other arm wrapped around Olive. Brewery of the year 2015 engraved on a gold tag at the bottom. Behind the happy couple, hundreds of workers all with their hands in the air cheering. My eyes concentrate on Conor’s. He’s glancing down at Olive, smiling. The same smile he gives to me now. I feel myself deflating on the spot. I knew they were a couple but seeing them in action has upset me. I swallow hard, knowing I should say something. But what? This is so awkward.
‘Caldwell brewery must do great work for the community,’ I say, turning away from the photo and stepping towards Shay. I realize now how much of an outsider I am. Shay is my only link in this heavy chain.
‘Yes, they certainly keep the village alive,’ Deirdre says. I’m tucking the blanket tightly around my baby boy. ‘There’s over three hundred employed here,’ Deirdre continues. ‘All happy.’
‘That’s great to hear. Was it always that way? Has no one ever had a problem working here?’ Olive turns. ‘What do you mean?’ I’m after backing myself into a corner. Olive doesn’t like my question. ‘Oh, I was