Semi-Sweet (39 page)

The bell above the door brought Hannah out from the back.

“Hey,” Wally said. “Finally made it.”

“Hello there.” She held up her mug. “I was just having a sneaky cuppa.”

“Why be sneaky?” he asked. “It’s your shop, you’re the boss.” He looked around. “Nice little place.” He spotted the rocking
chair on the wall. “I suppose the high chair is for your baby customers.”

She laughed. “Actually it belonged to my grandfather, whose money helped me set up this place.”

He wore a green T-shirt with a cartoon apple on the front and loose canvas jeans. He was broad like Patrick, but not as tall.
Chunky was how she’d describe him.

“I suppose you’re here to claim your free bun,” she said.

He studied the rows of cupcakes. “Well, I must confess I am. I told you I have a sweet tooth.”

“You did.” She indicated the display. “Take your pick.”

She watched as he bent to inspect the trays under the glass counter, whistling through his teeth.

“That one,” he said, pointing to a rum-raisin, “please. As long as I’m okay to drive after it.”

She smiled. “I think you’ll be safe enough.” She took a small box from the stack. “A taxi driver who plays keyboards—you don’t
come across one of those every day.”

“Actually, I prefer to regard myself as a musician who drives a taxi—and I’ll have you know that I play guitar and flute,
too.”

She laughed again. “Is there no end to your talents?”

He considered, then shook his head. “None.”

“Can you bake?”

“Well, no.”

“Cook?”

“Er, not exactly.”

“Are you sporty? Artistic? Into DIY?”

He put his hands up. “Okay, okay, I can play three instruments not too badly, and I’ve got a clean driving license—that’s
about it. Now give me that cupcake and let me out of here before you humiliate me further.”

Hannah added a chocolate chunk to the box and handed it to him. “Have a nice day.”

“Hey,” he protested, “the deal was for one.”

“You can find someone, I’m sure, to eat the second.”

“Well, my little sister wouldn’t say no.” He tipped an imaginary hat at her. “Thanks very much—I think that officially makes
us quits.”

“And if you’re happy, you can come back and get more,” she said. “And you’re definitely paying next time. I’m not made of
money either.”

He grinned. “It’s a deal, thanks again. See you, now.” As he turned away, he jerked a thumb toward the rocking chair on the
wall. “Careful Grandpa doesn’t take a tumble.”

And then he was gone, the bell tinkling behind him.

Hannah leaned against the counter and sipped her cooling tea. She liked that dark blond hair color. She wondered when it had
last seen a comb. She remembered his woolly hat and figured his appearance didn’t unduly concern him. Vivienne looked older
than him, but he’d called her his little sister. Imagine if she’d told him that her best friend had a crush on his little
sister.

A few seconds later, the door opened again and a woman walked in.

“Nice to see someone looking happy,” she said to Hannah.

Dave and Claire were in the courtroom.

Alice hadn’t expected that. The thought of their coming had never once crossed her mind. An older woman had an arm around
Claire’s hunched shoulders. They sat on a wooden bench toward the front.

Alice didn’t spot them right away. She walked along the central aisle behind the guard who’d ushered them in, her bag clasped
tightly in both hands, her heart thudding. She’d never been in a courtroom in her life.

The guard brought Tom over to the stand, and the solicitor took Alice’s arm to guide her into a bench—and as she was about
to sit she saw them, two rows back. She turned abruptly and took a seat on the bench across the aisle, praying that they hadn’t
noticed her, that Claire wouldn’t remember the woman who’d spoken to her at the bus stop.

“Are you all right?” the solicitor whispered, sliding in beside her, and Alice nodded.

The older woman had to be Claire’s mother. They’d have seen her come in with Tom, so even if Claire didn’t remember her, they’d
know she was his wife—who else could she be? Alice’s skin prickled, and she dug her nails into her palms and closed her eyes,
and waited for it to be over.

And when, barely five minutes later, Tom was charged with dangerous driving causing death, Alice should have been prepared.
She
had
been prepared—the solicitor had told them that this charge would be the most likely outcome—but as the judge spoke the words
out loud, as he told Tom that a trial date would be set and he would be summoned again, this time to the circuit court, Alice
stumbled to her feet and hurried back down the aisle and out of the room, a hand pressed to her trembling mouth, oblivious
now to who might be looking at her.

In the corridor she pulled a tissue from her bag and wiped her eyes and blew her nose. She sat on the same bench as before,
taking ragged breaths, trying to gather her wits before Tom appeared, knowing she had to be positive for him. When the courtroom
door opened again, she looked up, forced a smile, pushed the tissue back into her bag—and there they were, the three of them,
staring accusingly at her.

Her heart pounded as she looked away, as she kept her gaze fixed farther down on the opposite wall. Out of the corner of her
eye, she could see Claire stepping forward. She braced herself for a blow.

“That’s her. That’s his wife.”

Alice didn’t respond. Her hands clenched her bag, her whole body tense. Her face felt ice cold.

“You stay away from us.” She could feel Claire’s breath on her face as the young woman leaned toward her. “You stop hanging
around our house.” Her voice rose in pitch, and again Alice flinched. “You stay away from Jason, you don’t go
near
him. You hear me, you creep?”

Alice turned slowly to face her, her whole body beginning to tremble. Claire’s face was twisted with pain. Tears glittered
in her eyes, dark red patches bloomed in her cheeks. Her mother and Dave stood by silently, their eyes fixed on Alice, Dave
holding Claire’s hand.

“You hear me?” she shouted at Alice again.

“I hear you,” Alice whispered. “I’m very sorry.” Her voice shook, like the rest of her. She could feel a pulse beating in
her head, the sting of incipient tears.

“Sorry?” The expression changed in Claire’s face. “You’re
sorry 
? Your husband
destroyed
us, he destroyed our
lives
, and you’re fucking
sorry 
!” Her voice was shrill, her rage and her anguish terrible, the spittle flying from her mouth to land on Alice’s cheeks, the
tears spilling from her eyes. “I hope he’s locked up for good—he’s a fucking
monster 
!”

“I’m sorry,” Alice repeated, tears spilling onto her cheeks, her hands raised to ward off the blows she was sure were coming.
“I’m so sorry.”

Claire spun abruptly and stalked away, pulling her hand from Dave’s, and the other two followed. They turned a corner and
were gone. Alice rummaged blindly in her bag and found the balled-up tissue and pressed it again to her eyes, trying to breathe.

After what seemed like forever, the courtroom door was pushed open once more.

“Come on,” she heard Tom say quietly. “Alice, come on, time to go.”

But she couldn’t lift her head.

Hannah read and reread the entry until she could recite it from memory.

A son. They’d had a son.

“At least you have your own room,” Alice said. “That’s good.” Not expecting, or receiving, a reply.

Tom laid his case on the bed and walked to the window, and stood with his back to her.

“It’s nice and quiet here,” Alice said. “Quieter than at home. You’ll be able to sleep at night. You mightn’t need your tablets.”

There was a tree about twenty feet from his window. It looked like some kind of a maple to Alice. They could hear the tiny
rustling the leaves made in the light breeze.

“You brought books,” she said, “did you?”

“Yes.”

“And crosswords? Did you bring the crossword book?”

His shoulders lifted. “I didn’t think of it.”

“I’ll post it to you,” she said. “I’ll get a few more.”

He wore the suit he’d worn to the courthouse. He’d gotten his hair cut for the court visit. The back of his neck was heartbreaking
to her.

“Well,” she said briskly, before she made a fool of herself, “I suppose I’d better be off.”

Tom didn’t move. He gave no indication that he’d even heard her.

“I know it was an accident,” Alice said suddenly, the words rushing out of her. “I understand that. And I shouldn’t have made
you go to work that morning.”

She turned and walked quickly from the small, bare room, narrowly avoiding a collision with the doorframe. All down the corridor
that smelled of cabbage, she waited to hear him calling after her.

She drove the four hours back to Clongarvin without taking a break, the journey as silent as the earlier one had been. As
she walked into the house, the phone was ringing.

Alice picked it up and said, “Hello,” knowing that it would be Tom. Who else would be ringing?

“Ma, how could you not tell me?” Ellen asked.

“I’ve packed it in,” Nora said. “Couldn’t hack it, too boring.”

“Can’t say I’m surprised,” Adam answered. “I could never see you as someone’s PA. Making coffee and booking hotels, not your
style at all.”

He didn’t bring up the previous week’s incident, didn’t ask again how his sister had come to be standing on the side of the
road on the outskirts of Clongarvin in the middle of the day. That an illicit relationship of some kind was involved, he didn’t
doubt—but as long as Nora was keeping the details to herself, he wasn’t going to waste energy trying to pry them from her.

“So what now?” he asked. “Are you staying put in Clongarvin?”

“Wouldn’t think so,” she answered. “Nothing for me here, really. Don’t know what I was thinking about, coming back.”

He wondered suddenly if she had any girlfriends. In her e-mails to him, nobody in particular had been mentioned, no name had
appeared with any regularity. And here, as far as he knew, Leah was the only one of her old friends she’d looked up, and that
hadn’t seemed to go anywhere.