Quentins Read online

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  Deirdre called around to the Bradys for solidarity. "It will do her no end of good, this trip," she said.

  "I'm very anxious, Deirdre, our daughter to be running away from someone like as if we were all in gangland! Couldn't she have given the laptop to the Guards and be done with it?"

  "She will do that when she comes back, I'm sure of that," Deirdre murmured. "She'll do the right thing. It will just take her a little time."

  "Deirdre, I've been phoning you all night."

  "I was out, Nuala. But now I'm home. What is it?"

  "Listen, Frank got a message from Don."

  "He never did."

  "Yes, late this afternoon. I've been t rying to find you."

  "And what did he have to say to Frank?"

  "Apparently a lot of it was completely wrongly reported."

  "Yes, I'm sure."

  "No, really, he explained it was all taken out of proportion."

  "Is this why you rang me, Nuala?"

  "Well, yes and no. You see, Frank was wondering whether Don might contact Ella?"

  "Why in the name of God would Frank think that?"

  "Well, I said that she went off somewhere today and she didn't tell any of us where she was going."

  "So?"

  "So Frank thought she might still be carrying a torch for Don."

  "Carrying a torch!" Deirdre screamed with laughter. "A torch, no less. What a ludicrous thing to say. Is Frank losing his marbles?

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  If she was carrying a torch anywhere near him, she would gouge his eyes out with it. She hates him, Nuala, you know that."

  "Love and hate aren't all that far apart," Nuala said prissily.

  "I don't think so in this case, and did Frank get this idea out of the air or did you sow it in his mind?"

  "No, I didn't sow it in his mind, but after he was talking to Don, he seemed to think it was a possibility."

  "And he's all buddy-buddy with Don now?"

  "I told you, there was a misunderstanding. Don has sent a sum of money to a PO box, one of Frank's brothers picked it up."

  "So Frank has forgiven him."

  "He's listening to him anyway."

  "And what does he hear?"

  "That Don wants to make it up to Ella. He'd like to know where she is."

  "Well, I have no idea. She went to clear her head and I don't want to talk about it any more."

  Deirdre sent up a silent prayer of thanks that they had told Nuala nothing. Suppose they had innocently said where Ella was going? One of Don's henchmen could have been waiting for her in the New York hotel this very minute.

  Nick and Sandy were just going to bed when Deirdre rang. "I know it's silly, but I'm just sitting here on my own worrying. She is all right, isn't she? It's just that Don's getting Frank and his desperate brothers to use Nuala to get to Ella. He even paid them the money they lost."

  "Do you think we should tell her?" Nick asked.

  "I don't know. Part of me thinks we should, but then it's your pitch. I don't want her to go to pieces on you out there."

  "The job's not as important as her being all right. Look, I'll discuss it with Sandy and then we'll give her a call."

  "Think about it, Nick. If she's on her own out there, it might be worse for her to know."

  "Go to bed, Deirdre. Don Richardson can't ruin every night's sleep in the Western world."

  They called Ella's hotel, but she was not in her room. Nor was she in the hotel dining-room. "It's one in the morning," Sandy said disapprovingly.

  "It's only eight p.m. there. We're not her mother and father." "Still, who does she know there? Where can she be?"

  Ella was at a party in Harriet's suite, drinking cocktails and meeting some of Harriet's contacts. They were mainly women in their fifties, scouts that she had sent out looking for supplies. Some of them were younger and wearing a lot of jewellery and expensive jackets. Harriet had not been at all surprised that she phoned and had welcomed Ella warmly. Everyone was interested for a moment when she was introduced as a movie-maker, but they lost interest when they heard it was a documentary.

  Harriet's contacts had brought her samples. Ella examined yellow negligees with rhinestones, scarlet thongs and black panties with pink lace rosebuds on them. Had Ireland changed a great deal? Or did everyone else at home wear underwear like this and Ella was the only one left out?

  "You can buy anything you need at cost," Harriet said to her kindly.

  "Thanks, Harriet. I don't have much of a sex life going at the moment. I think I'll pass, if you don't mind."

  "Fine-looking girl like you, you do surprise me," Harriet said.

  Some of the contacts seemed to suggest that owning a proper wardrobe of what was on display was the surefire way of restoring a good sex life fairly speedily.

  Ella had eaten nothing and was beginning to feel a little lightheaded. "Well, if I thought they'd help sell my film idea to Derry King," she said, pretending to consider one of the little corsets.

  "Not the Derry King!" said one of the contacts.

  "You've heard of him?"

  "There was a big piece about him in the paper today .. . but what was in it?"

  None of them could remember.

  I hope he hasn't gone bankrupt," Ella said. That would be all they'd need. But it appeared that it had something to do with rescuing a dog shelter. Derry King had not only given the place the funds it needed, but he had marched with the protesters personally and raised their profile considerably. "A dog lover, I see," Ella noted. It hadn't mentioned that in any of the files. "Then I'll buy that jewelled dog collar for him," she said.

  "It's a bit flash, Ella. I mean, it's only five dollars. It's for guys to give their girls who have silly bow-wows." Harriet didn't want to steer her wrong.

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  "No, what's more, I'll buy two. I know a dog called Hooves back in Dublin who'd absolutely love it."

  She had three more cocktails, went back to her own hotel, and fell into sleep without even listening to her voice-mail on the telephone.

  This was meant to be her day off. Her whole day to relax and get ready for tomorrow to meet the great Derry King, investor and apparently a dog lover. And now she had the most unmerciful hangover. Slowly she got herself into the day. The woman at the beauty salon suggested a facial. It was very expensive, but what the hell? She would pay Firefly Films back one day. That's what she was going to spend the rest of her life doing anyway, it seemed. Paying people back.

  "Sorry, Nick, I was out last night. I forgot to check my messages," she said when she found the winking light and called him back.

  "Great, Ella. You're really on top of things over there," he said.

  "No, I'm fine. I have such hair and such skin you just wouldn't believe it."

  "Terrific."

  "What were you on about anyway?"

  He told her briefly about it all, how they were all a little bit worried in case Nuala might just have got any of it right.

  "Not very likely, based on previous performance." She was brisk.

  "Don't be flip, Ella. We're your friends, okay?"

  "Sure, sorry, it's just that I'm a bit frail. Nuala's half-wit take on everything doesn't seem real from here."

  "Why are you frail?"

  "Hung over. Mixed cocktails."

  "Jesus, Sandy, she's been spending our money on cocktails."

  "No, they were free. I met this woman on the plane .. ."

  I don't want to hear about it... listen, Ella. It could be serious. He's paid off Frank and his brothers simply because he's married to a friend of yours and hopes she knows where you are."

  "No, he doesn't want to contact me," she said.

  "Why do you say that? Hasn't he got Mike Martin and Frank sending out feelers?"

  "If Don really wanted to talk to me, he'd find me."

  "And would you talk to him?" Nick asked fearfully. He had a

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  sinking feeling why Ella had kept the laptop
. She wanted Don to get in touch with her.

  "Probably." She sounded very far away.

  "But you can't. Not without someone else being there."

  "This is costing you a fortune, Nick. Thanks for being involved, I mean it, and thank Sandy and Dee for me. But I'm fine."

  "You're okay, really?"

  "Really I am. And I can't wait to meet Derry King. I bought him a jewelled dog collar, by the way."

  "I ask myself over and over if we did the right thing, sending you to New York," Nick said.

  Harriet rang to know had she survived.

  "Yes, just about. Sorry for laying into your booze so heavily."

  "Not at all. It's just that... I don't know, those dog collars are a bit tacky. You know, if you really do want to impress him that might not be the right way to go."

  "Thanks, Harriet. I'm meeting him tomorrow. I'll see how it goes."

  "Anyway, who am I, talking to someone like you ... you're well able to look after yourself."

  "I wish."

  "I recognised you as that money broker's girl, the one they thought he had run off with."

  "Oh, you did." Ella's voice was dull. She often wondered if people recognised her. Now that the months had gone by very few remembered her, but of course she had to meet someone who did.

  "Only because a mate of mine, a real nice woman, Nora O"Donoghue, she lost her wedding money to him."

  I know Nora. She works in the kitchen of Quentins sometimes. She's very nice."

  "She lodged with my sister once in Mountainview and she's getting married to this teacher. Apparently he was giving Latin lessons to Richardson's sons ... anyway, they lost their savings . .. that's why I'd remember."

  "A lot of people lost their savings, my own parents did," Ella said.

  "And no one knows where he is?"

  "Well, we think he's in Spain. He must have been setting up a different name and home when I was with him. It all seems so long ago."

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  "You know, I half-wondered when I saw you if he was out here. New York would be a good place to hide, and maybe you were coming out to meet him. And I said to myself it might be dangerous for you."

  Ella felt a sudden shiver of fear. It was probably the hangover, she told herself firmly. But two people within five minutes of each other warning her on the telephone was hard to take.

  "No, truly, Harriet. He's long gone out of my life."

  "So good luck with the film anyway, and remember what I said. Think carefully about the dog collar."

  "Good luck, Harriet, and thanks for everything."

  "There'll be other fellows, there always are."

  "Oh, I'm sure of it. It's just that I'm not ready for one yet."

  "They turn up when you least expect them."

  "Did someone turn up for you, Harriet?"

  "The nicest fellow that ever wore shoe leather. Married to a r ight bitch. She pushed him too far one day and he came over to me with a suitcase. That's ten years ago."

  "And why isn't he here with you?"

  "He's terrified of planes and big cities."

  "And what'll he do while you're here?"

  "He'll cook grand things like chicken pies and spaghetti sauces and label them and put them in the freezer. And he'll talk to his pigeons, and he'll go and have a pint with his son, and he'll be at the airport in a van to lift me and the bags home."

  "Good luck to you," Ella said.

  "And to you, Ella, and you know that no one blames you for that bastard. But I'd love it all to come out about your family and everything . .."

  "One day," Ella promised as she looked over at the laptop computer on her desk.

  It was such a lovely day. No blustery wind to blow her new hairdo away, so she went for a long walk down Fifth Avenue.

  New York was full of energy. Ella felt a new spring in her step as she walked. She called into St Patrick's Cathedral and longed to have enough faith to pray to God and ask for the meeting with Derry King to go well. But it wouldn't be fair. And it wouldn't work anyway because God knew that she didn't really believe.

  So instead she told God that if He still happened to be listening to sinners, and there were no strings attached, she'd like to remind

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  Him that thousands of films got made every year and it wouldn't upset anyone if theirs was one of them next year.

  f She looked at florist displays. She read the menus on windows. She admired the uniforms of doormen. She strolled through the atriums of office blocks. She watched the office workers coming out into the street to smoke or grab sandwiches in a deli. She wondered what it would be like to work in this huge, exciting city where nobody seemed to know anyone like people did in Dublin, where you were always nodding at people and saluting each other.

  A tall man passed by and looked at her appreciatively. Ella felt alarmed. Suppose Harriet had been right about New York being a good place to hide. Possibly Don was in this city. She might meet him at the end of this block, at the next traffic lights. But she must not give in to silly fears. This is the way madness and weakness lay.

  "You've got to have courage," she said aloud suddenly.

  "Right on, lady," said a man at a news-stand who was the only one who had heard her.

  Ella hugged herself. She liked New York, she was as safe here as anywhere. She would walk until she was too tired to walk a step further, and then she would take a taxi back to her hotel.

  She slept for fourteen hours and got up feeling better than she had felt for ages.

  I thought you'd be older," Derry King said as he shook hands with her in the foyer of the hotel.

  "I thought you'd be older too," Ella said with spirit. "But here we are, babes in a big business world, so can I offer you coffee?"

  He smiled.

  He had a good smile for a square-built man with a very heavily lined face. She knew to the day how old he was, and yet he didn't look it. Forty-three-year-old New Yorkers wore their years better than most Dubliners of the same age.

  Til drink coffee, sure. Do you want us to talk here, or should i we talk in your suite?"

  "We are a small outfit, Mr King. I have a bedroom, not a suite. I think we'd be much happier here."

  "And I'd be happier if you called me Derry. I prefer the first name thing."

  "Fine, Derry. I brought you a present," she said.

  "You did?" He was surprised.

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  "And is she here at the moment?"

  "No, she's gone off ... the way they do at that age."

  "Has she gone abroad, do you think?"

  Ella's mother was frightened now. This was no courteous man looking for an apartment for a colleague. It was someone looking for Ella.

  "Do young people ever tell you where they're going these days?" She laughed nervously.

  "Oh, I know, but doesn't she have to work? I think you said she was a teacher."

  They hadn't said Ella was a teacher.

  "She does a bit of this and a bit of that . .. it's easier to get time off."

  "Maybe she went out to the sun, to Greece or Spain?" the man suggested. "Lots of people go out there in September."

  Barbara Brady directed her firmest gaze on her husband. "She didn't say anything about going to the Continent to me, did she mention it to you, Tim?"

  "Not a word," he said. "Somewhere down in Kerry or West Cork, she said. It could be that she's got herself an extra little job. She ran into a spot of bad luck earlier in the year, and she's desperately trying to gather some money together."

  "So anyway, to go back to the flat . .." Barbara began.

  But the man had lost interest in the flat in Tara Road.

  "We're back here for a few days. Will you have lunch with me, Deirdre?"

  "No, Nuala, thanks, but I can't."

  "You didn't even wait to hear which day," Nuala complained.

  "I can't any day. There's a crisis at work. We're all on short lunch hours," Deirdre lied.

&
nbsp; "Are you annoyed with me about something, Dee?"

  "No, I'm annoyed about having to eat into my lunch break. Why would I be annoyed with you, for God's sake?"

  "You seemed pissed off when I asked you "where Ella was. It's just that I have to know. Frank keeps going on at me. He says it's the one thing I might be expected to know and I don't even deliver on that."

  "Real charmer Frank turned out to be," Deirdre said unsympathetically. "No, they're frightened. His brothers too, all of them."

  "I thought they got their money back in a brown paper bag?"

  "That was just a little to show that they could get it back if ..."

  "If what?"

  "I suppose, if they played ball . .."

  "And handed Ella over, is that it?"

  "I don't think it's quite like that."

  "So it's just as well that neither of us knows where she is, then, isn't it, Nuala?" Deirdre was brisk.

  "You know, Dee."

  "I wish I did."

  "Advise me. Help me, please." Nuala was desperate.

  "I don't suppose it's the kind of thing you'd get the Guards in on," Deirdre said.

  "Not really. Frank and his brothers always steer clear of police and lawyers," said Nuala.

  Patrick and Brenda Brennan were going to bed. It had been a long, busy night. "I ask myself, do we need this documentary? Every table was full tonight," Patrick said.

  "I know, I've thought that too. We'd have to consider expanding." Brenda was frowning.

  "Which would change it all." Patrick frowned too.

  "Still, it's not meant to be just an advertisement," Brenda cheered up. "It's more like a history of Dublin, isn't it, as seen through the changes in one place."

  "Now you're beginning to sound just like young Ella Brady," he said, yawning.

  "I wonder how she's getting on out there," Brenda said as she sat at her dressing table and took off her makeup.

  She couldn't hear what Patrick said, since he was under the duvet and mumbling into the pillow.