‘Sue, it’s me. Please call me back sooner rather than later. Thanks,’ he said crisply. He deliberately didn’t say why he wanted her to ring him back and left the message suitably vague hoping that the request might make her think something was up and she would ring to see what was wrong.
They weren’t close siblings. Sue was ten years older than him. His mother had suffered several miscarriages before conceiving him. Sue, who had been especially spoilt by their father, had not been impressed with the mewling little stranger who had taken her parents’ focus off her. She had left home to share a flat with friends when he was eight and they had nothing in common except their parents. After their father’s sudden death she had been happy to let Hilary and Niall provide her mother with the comfort and practical aid that Margaret so badly needed. Gradually Margaret had come to depend on them, taking great solace in the company of her grandchildren. Sue had been happy that she was able to continue to live her life unhampered by the needs of her aged mother. Her free and easy life was coming to an end, Niall thought grimly. Hilary was generally very easygoing but when she got a bee in her bonnet about something it was time to look out.
Sue Hammond Kelly’s’ lips tightened as she listened to her brother’s message. What now? she thought irascibly. Was something wrong with their mother or did Niall want something of her? His message was very ambiguous, but he sounded bossy rather than stressed. One way of finding out what was up, she decided, punching in a number on her office landline.
‘Hello.’ She heard her mother’s voice with a flash of relief. Margaret was at home in her own house so all must be well.
‘How are things, Mam?’ she asked casually. ‘How’s the chest infection?’
‘Ah, Sue, I’m not too bad at all. How are things with you, dear?’
‘Oh I’m up to my ears as usual. Mr Barrington is phenomenally busy. He’s developing a big shopping centre in the Midlands and is trying to get planning issues sorted and it’s all go, I can tell you. I never have a minute.’
‘Ah God love you. Poor Hilary is up to her eyes as well. We couldn’t go for our usual coffee after my clinic appointment because she had to go to a meeting,’ Margaret confided.
‘Poor girl,’ Sue yawned. ‘And how did you get on at the clinic? Did you get four weeks out of it?’
‘Unfortunately not,’ sighed her mother. ‘The steroids and antibiotics have it all out of kilter so I’ve to go back in two weeks’ time.’
‘That’s a shame,’ Sue said sympathetically. ‘Look, I’ll pop over some night after work for an hour or two, so take it easy. I’ll bring some pesto chicken soup and some brown rice. That will build you up. Talk soon, Mam. Cheers.’ She hung up and stared out of the window. She knew now why Niall had phoned. He needed her to bring their mother to the clinic. For some reason Hilary mustn’t be able to do it. Hilary was her own boss. It was much easier for her to take time off than it was for Sue. Mr Barrington hated it when she took days off. He even rang her at home, often at ten or eleven at night, wanting her to organize something for him that couldn’t wait until the morning.
Hilary had a much easier life than she had, with her big house and garden, and her two bright children. Margaret thought she was the bee’s knees and was always going on about Hilary and Niall’s great careers. And she never shut up about Sophie and Millie. It drove Sue up the wall. Her mother didn’t mean it, she hoped, but it was almost as though subconsciously Margaret thought Sue was a lesser woman for not having children.
All this fuss about kids was so irritating. Sue had always been upfront about taking the responsible decision not to have children that she didn’t want. And still society pilloried her, she thought crossly, remembering all the times relatives and neighbours, and indeed her parents, had asked when she was going to have a child. And wasn’t she leaving it a little late?
‘I don’t want sprogs,’ she would say bluntly and see the faintly incredulous expressions on their faces.
‘Ah you’ll feel differently when you hold your own in your arms,’ or similar was thrown back at her. Eventually she’d told people that Cormac, her husband, had had the snip and it just wasn’t going to happen.
It had been a relief when Niall had married Hilary and they’d had children. It had taken a lot of pressure off her. Sue liked the freedom being childless gave her. She could do her yoga, and Pilates, and hill walking, and keep the figure she worked so hard to maintain. She didn’t have one spare ounce of flat on her body, she thought proudly. Not bad for a woman in her early fifties. Her only vice was smoking, but smoking helped keep her weight down. She could mix with the movers and shakers and the political elite her boss socialized with, and be completely confident that she looked her absolute best. But it was hard work. Niall needn’t think he was going to start dumping their mother on her. Let him take the morning off if his precious Hilary couldn’t. After all she was only pretending to be a career woman with her itty-bitty lighting carry-on. Sue was one.
C
HAPTER
N
INETEEN
Jonathan hummed to himself as he cruised along the M50 in his
