Page 26 of Three Widows

‘That’s ridiculous. If I’d wanted to contact her, couldn’t I have used the office phone here?’

‘You’re refusing so?’

He moved to the door and opened it. ‘You’re wasting my time now. You should talk to the women in that group.’ And he marched off like a man possessed, his affable demeanour disappearing with the slap of his shoes on the highly polished floor.

‘Well, you’ve certainly given me food for thought, Frankie Bardon,’ Lottie said. He had pushed through the swing doors and was outside before the last word left her lips.

For a guy who preached about ashrams and yoga, there wasn’t a shred of calm about him now.

16

Bianca Tormey stood on the step waiting for Roman Lawlor to open the door. She was fond of the Lawlor kids, they were no trouble, but she really wanted to be in town with her friends. Friday was her day off from her part-time summer job at the supermarket. Éilis was calling on her more and more lately. If she wanted a nanny, she should pay for one, not be depending on Bianca for cheap labour. But she had to acknowledge that Éilis was a good mother, always fawning over her kids, dipping in and out of her garden office to check up on them, ensuring they were fed and watered. Or maybe that was the dog.

She pressed the bell again.

At sixteen, Bianca was lean and tall, and she knew of at least three lads who liked her. She excluded Luke Bray at work, because he was a leech and she avoided him like the plague. He wouldn’t shut up about her tattoos, saying he would get one to match hers. He could feck right off.

She loved her tattoos, though her mother had almost had a coronary when she’d got her first ink. Since then she’d kept them hidden at home. Life was too short to listen to the tirades. She couldn’t wait for the day when she could ink her neck and the backs of her hands. It comforted her to know what lay beneath her clothes.

Not much fazed her, but when Roman opened the door, the look of terror in his eyes caused her to pause.

‘Don’t know where Mammy’s gone, but we found Mozart,’ he said, leading her to the kitchen.

‘Where was he?’

‘Upstairs. We were searching everywhere for Mammy and we found him under her bed. I think he’s asleep. He never sleeps this long and we were shouting. Do you think he’s okay?’

‘Let’s have a look at the little fellow.’

Her bangles jangled as she took the stairs two at a time and headed into Éilis’s bedroom. Too many vivid pinks and reds for her liking; she was more into monochrome. On her knees, she peered under the bed. The little white dog’s fur was rising and falling. Catching hold of his collar, she dragged him out. He was out cold. How? Cradling him, she turned to find the two kids staring at her, wide-eyed and open-mouthed.

‘Don’t worry, kiddos, he’ll be fine. Might be a virus or something. Which vet does your mam use?’

‘Animal Love,’ Becky said.

‘Okay. Let’s go back downstairs and phone the vet, and then we can call your mam’s friends. They might know where she is.’ Though when she’d asked her own mother, she’d had no idea.

Carrying the sleeping dog in her arms, Bianca followed the two children down the stairs. A trickle of worry pricked beneath her skin. Where was their mother? From what she knew of Éilis, she never left her children alone. She worked from home on her interior design business, and would ask Bianca to watch the kids even if she was just popping to the corner shop.

She phoned the vet first and was told to give the dog water and a little food and if there was no change to phone back.

‘Who’s your mother’s best friend?’ she asked.

‘I only know of Helena and Jennifer,’ Roman said. ‘They’re in her Thursday group. That’s where she went last night.’ He handed over his mum’s phone.

Bianca couldn’t help curling her lip. The famous widows. On more than one occasion she’d had to stay until three a.m.

‘Okay, let’s see if I can find their numbers.’ She scrolled through Éilis’s contacts, relieved to see that the women were listed under their forenames; Roman was so agitated, it was doubtful he’d remember any surnames.

Settling Becky on her knee while Roman cradled the dog, she called Helena first. Waiting for the pickup, she said, ‘Stop sucking your thumb, sweetie.’

A voice answered the call. ‘Hi, Éilis? All okay?’

‘Hi, Helena. It’s Bianca, Mrs Lawlor’s babysitter. I’m wondering if you saw her this morning? She’s not at home and her kids are worried.’

As she listened to Helena, Bianca felt her hands sweating and wished she hadn’t the little girl on her knee. Becky could hear every word.

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