Chapter 8

Mike had arrived home at eleven, and the children including Siobhán were asleep. He told Jessica what had happened and her look of compassion instantly reduced him to tears. She held him, his nanny too for that moment.

He did not sleep much that night and by early morning his sorrow had turned to anger and resentment. He rehearsed what he had done for Claire and her family and it made him even more angry. Eventually he fell asleep and woke about two hours later.

He felt wretched. Was it the bereavement or the whisky? But the nausea and headache cooled his anger and stopped him from saying something to the children he would regret.

He rang Rosemary and told her the news and she was silent and then practical.

"Stay at home," she said. "It's mid-summer and work is light. Breathe deeply. Go for a walk on your own. Try to see it from her point of view. I think Tom's right; whoever visited her seems to have thoughtlessly built on her own feelings of ugliness and worthlessness. Reserve judgement, all is not lost, believe me on that Mike."

She was right, he thought; it was not final. He could fight Claire on this but he would need to engage Siobhán and to do that she would have to know. He would have to tread carefully with her. He was so glad he'd phoned Rosemary.

He left his room and went out into the cool of the early morning. After an hour's walk he did feel better. He realised that he ran his own business and he knew how to get what he wanted. He reminded himself of this and realised he would have to play a long game. Perhaps play dirty.

Everyone but Siobhán was at the breakfast table. He got happy smiles and greetings and sat down to join them in some cereal and toast. He got a résumé of the day before, and made appropriate happy noises.

Jessica had made a large pot of tea and he had several mugs. Jessica then took the children out for the morning, while he waited for Siobhán to surface, which she did half an hour later.

She looked quite wide-awake as she munched some toast and drank her mug of tea.

"What's up Dad?" she asked. How women knew something was up he didn't know. He thought he was emanating calm.

"Finish your breakfast and join me in the study," he replied, "and I'll tell you."

She shrugged and carried on eating. Mike left for the study to which she followed him five minutes later.

"Sit down, Hen," he said indicating the chair opposite his. She looked surprised and then worried. He thought she had every reason to be.

"Something has happened–"

"It's not Mum is it? She's relapsed? Hurt?"

"No. It has to do with Mum but she's well," he paused. There was no easy way to put it.

"Something has happened which is going to shock and upset you, but I want you to promise me now you'll not act on this knowledge until I say you can. Can you give me that promise?"

There must have been something in his tone of voice, for her worry seemed to increase. "Yes, Dad, I promise. Whatever it is."

"Your Mother has decided to go back to your old house now that your father is in prison, and she's taking you all with her. She is not going to work for me any more and she doesn't want me to visit her in hospital any more."

Siobhán's mouth dropped open. "But why?"

"She's decided it wouldn't work out between us now she's lost her looks, and I suspect she feels unable to stay here where she was attacked so viciously." He tried to keep his anger out of it and only partially succeeded.

"Oh!" she retorted angrily. "So she can't stand living here but she'll drag me back where I was abused? Well, I feel unable to live there; I want to stay here with you!"

"Well, Siobhán," he temporised, "You'll have to discuss that with your mother, but I can't see her allowing that."

She thought for a moment and her face clouded. "But you love her!"

He nodded.

"But she doesn't love you?" she asked. "After all you've done for us?"

"She says she does. She says that's why we have to part. She thinks I would stay with her out of pity or, what was it? duty to her, and that would destroy our relationship."

"This is so stupid!" she grumbled. Then, "You just going to let her do that?"

"I've not a lot of choice, but I've not given up. Tom has some ideas, and that's where you come in."

"Are you going to tell Ginny and Ryan?"

"No," he answered, his anger showing through. "This is all your mother's idea so she can tell them. I only told you because there's something you can do for me."

"Anything, Dad," she asserted firmly.

"Well, you'll have to use your brains and be a bit devious. I want you to find out from her who came to visit her since she was taken to hospital. I think someone's stupidly been putting ideas into her head. She mustn't suspect it's for me or she won't tell you."

"Mm." She thought for a while. Then a smile crossed her face. "OK," she said.

"And you can take a letter to her."

"Fine!"

She smiled but tears were starting in her eyes.

"Dad, can I come and stay if Mum won't let me live here?"

"This is your home Hen," he said.

"Love you, Dad," she sobbed.

"And I love you sweetheart," and the tears were coming in his eyes too.

Then she stood up and stood looking at him. Then she scowled, turned and left the room.

Mike turned to the computer and began the letter. It took a while and there were many alterations before it was as he wanted it. Then he printed it off and wrote it out again by hand.

Yes, he wanted her to feel as guilty as hell. He wanted her to smart at her selfishness. He hoped the kids would give her hell and perhaps it would bring her back. It was calculated and did not in the slightest reflect his feelings. At that precise time he wanted to get her back. It was totally selfish and born of anger and resentment.

The younger children came home for lunch and were full of the exploits of the morning. He watched Siobhán who looked preoccupied but she said nothing to them. In the afternoon they all went off to visit Claire and Mike went back to Tom's to collect his car.

He was in his study when he heard the sound of the family arriving. They were subdued. Jessica came in to see him.

"I've just had the worst day of my life," she said. She was a very placid woman but she was seething. "How could she do this to her family?"

He sat and nodded and listened as she told him the story of the tears and tantrums when she told them they were leaving the next day. The arguments and the language! She said that Siobhán had kept quiet, and when Jessica took the two younger children out she stayed behind. When they returned Claire was in sombre mood and Siobhán looked mutinous.

"You need to talk to the children," Jessica said. "It's really tearing them up."

He sighed a deep sigh and asked her to send them in to him.

"It's just not fair!" exclaimed Ginny as the pair of them settled into one of the armchairs, Ginny's arm round Ryan. Mike was still at his desk though turned away from it on his office chair. "Can't we stay here with you?"

"You know that's not possible, Ginny," he said. Best to get false hopes dashed early.

Ryan began to cry, "I like it here with you," he sniffed. "I hate that house. It smells."

"Look," Mike said, "your mother has promised me that you can come and visit me. You'll probably be able to stay for whole weekends. I'm not going to let you go easily you know. But you need your mother and she needs you."