‘I don’t know. I feel weird being this far away.’
‘Elizabeth, we might never have found out he’d done this. He has been fairly unlucky – it’s not like we speak on a daily basis!’
She grinned despite herself.
‘That’s true enough. He must be shitting himself, now that he knows we know.’ She heard Elliot chuckling at the other end of the line.
‘Do what you need to do. I’ll let you know the second I hear anything. He’ll be fine. Zach is a smart kid. Surviving in New York prepares you for most things.’
‘He flew cross-country alone, without telling anyone!’ She could feel her hysteria returning.
‘Elizabeth,’ Elliot said in a soothing voice, ‘everything is going to be OK. I’ll stay in touch. He knows we are going to be pissed at him, but he’ll call. You’ll see. Try not to worry.’
The sort of thing only a man could say. How could she possibly not worry?
‘OK. Thanks. Call me. I’ll call you.’
‘We’ll talk. Goodbye.’
‘Bye.’
Elizabeth imagined Elliot rolling his eyes across the room at, what was the latest one called? Andrew? Barry? Maybe Will? There had been so many.
Outside the car the street lights had come on and a thin mist of rain had given the streets an oily sheen. She had to admit that Elliot was right. She might as well get on with things. Putting the car into gear she eased her way into the afternoon traffic. Buncarragh. She resolved to tell her family nothing about her maternal failings.
Back in the familiar streets of her home town she reluctantly headed for the shop. Paul was behind the counter on the phone and greeted her with a wave. From behind an elegant tower of stainless steel bowls Noelle emerged and when she saw Elizabeth her face took on an expression of such deep dismay and sympathy that Elizabeth wondered how on earth she could have heard about Zach. Arms outstretched, her cousin lunged at her.
‘Rats! I was nearly sick when Paul told me, and you up there all alone the whole night. They could have eaten the face off you!’
‘It was only one rat, Noelle. I don’t think I was in that much danger.’
‘Young Dermot is after killing four of the monsters and it’s only been a few hours.’
Elizabeth felt the blood draining from her face.
‘Really?’
‘Four of them, the size of kittens. Come up to the flat and Gillian will make us some tea.’
The two women made their way up the stairs.
‘We weren’t expecting you tonight. Paul said you’d stay over in Kilkenny.’
‘It didn’t take as long as I was expecting.’
‘Everything all right?’ Noelle asked with a studied air of nonchalance.
‘Oh, fine.’ Elizabeth wondered briefly if she should mention the house in Cork, but decided against it. The less these people knew the better. ‘Just technical stuff about tax.’
‘Oh.’ Noelle’s face couldn’t hide her disappointment.
Sitting around the kitchen table with her aunt and uncle, the main topic of conversation was rats and what a narrow escape Elizabeth had experienced. Everyone seemed to have a story of someone getting their throat ripped out or innocent calves being murdered while they slept. The overall impression was that rats were to Ireland what sharks were to Australia. While not exactly enjoying the conversation, Elizabeth had to admit that it felt nice to have something to take her mind off Zach and his whereabouts.
She liked hearing her relatives telling stories. It was something she missed with her American friends. They were all so articulate but somehow lacked the skills to simply spin a yarn. Of course, ask them about their feelings and they became conversational virtuosos. When she had first arrived in New York that had thrilled her. Naming every emotional scar, exploring the cartography of relationships. It was all so new and refreshing, but now she found a nostalgia for a tale well told. Stories swapped across a cup-filled table, like serves being returned in tennis.
‘Oh, I nearly forgot!’ her Aunt Gillian exclaimed apropos of nothing obvious. ‘Remember we were talking about your father earlier?’
‘Yes.’ Elizabeth wondered where this was going. Questions about her trip to Kilkenny perhaps?
‘Edward Foley was the name?’
‘Yes?’
Noelle leaned forward. She clearly didn’t know what was coming next.
‘Well, I found the letter I was telling you about. The one from his mother.’
She bent stiffly and retrieved her handbag from the floor by her chair. ‘I shoved it in here somewhere,’ she said, unzipping the bag and rummaging in its contents. She glanced at various envelopes. ‘No, that‘s not it, no.’ Her face suddenly brightened. ‘Here it is. I’d kept it all these years in with the old photo albums. I knew I had it somewhere.’ She handed the slim envelope across the table to Elizabeth.