‘Oh, it certainly did,’ Helen agreed. ‘I found out in the last few days that she had a nervous breakdown after Tony’s murder. The woman was in a psychiatric hospital for three years.’ Helen shook her head. ‘I obviously had no idea when I employed her as my secretary at Metropolitan. She was only there briefly, but she always declined invites to gigs and made herself scarce every time The Fishermen were at Metropolitan. Clearly she didn’t want Derek or any of you to recognise her. When she came to me asking for a job she must have already been planning this.’
‘I was wondering last night why Sorcha said hello to Maggie when she appeared at the door with the gun. I’d no idea they’d ever met. I never saw her at Metropolitan.’
‘Maggie delivered an envelope to my house while Sorcha was staying there.’
Con nodded, trying to take it all in. ‘So where’s she been for the past seventeen years?’
‘In and out of institutions. I saw the matron of her most recent one. She said Maggie would play a song over and over. It was “Losing You”.’
‘Oh. Well, let’s hope she’ll be staying institutionalised permanently from now on.’
Helen sighed. ‘Oh, Con, the worst thing about all of this is that Sorcha died. And none of it was anything to do with her.’
‘I know. She must have seen Maggie pointing the gun at me and thrown herself forward to try and protect me. And after all I’d put her through...I’ll live with that for the rest of my life.’
‘So will I. That was one of the hardest things to swallow, thinking that Sorcha had accused me of shooting her. Anyacrimony there was between us way back when had disappeared.’ Tears pricked the back of Helen’s eyes. ‘We’d become friends.’
‘Well, you can comfort yourself that Derek would have died too, if you hadn’t have persevered. Helen, can you forgive me and all the others who were so quick to accuse you?’
‘I can understand it, certainly. Forgiveness for seventeen lost years will take longer.’
‘I know what you mean,’ sighed Con.
‘After last night is there talk of the band re-forming?’
‘Absolutely. You can imagine how it is.’
‘Yes.’
‘What about you? You must think of your future. There has to be some kind of compensation for being wrongly jailed for all this time.’
‘Probably,’ Helen smiled. ‘I might consult a lawyer, but I doubt it. I’ve had money all my life and it’s never made me happy. I have my houses in London and Ireland and enough to keep me going for a while until I consider where my future lies.’
Con let out a weary chuckle. ‘Your Irish house needs a lick of paint. I’ve been holed up there for a good while.’
Helen raised an eyebrow. ‘So that’s where you were. You must be worth untold millions with all those royalty cheques piling up for the past seventeen years. You can buy me a new bathroom.’
‘I could probably buy a small island in the Caribbean if the mood so took me,’ he grinned. Then he reached for her hand. ‘Helen McCarthy, I’ve known you since you were a small girl. We have a shared history. And I’m thinking now that you have more balls than any man I’ve ever met. You lost a friend in Sorcha. I’d be honoured if you’d consider me as her replacement.’
Helen’s eyes filled with tears. ‘Do you know, Con, you’ve just offered me the one thing that I need more than anything else.’
He put his arms around her shoulders and the two of them embraced.
‘So, are we on for this then or what?’ Freddy asked as he poured them each a cup of tea in his sitting room. ‘It’s a hell of a deal. A worldwide tour for six months. A record deal with Metropolitan worth almost twenty million. We need to grab it now, while it’s on the table.’
Ian shrugged. ‘I dunno. I’d have to either leave the wife and kids behind or drag them around the world for six months.’
‘I have commitments to my bands,’ said Todd.
‘Jesus, guys. You’re being offered the deal of the century and you talk about incidentals.’ Derek shook his head in frustration. ‘Well, you know I’m all for it. Just remember that adrenalin rush in front of all those people ten days ago.’
‘What a note to close on,’ said Todd.
‘And I object to you referring to my wife and kids as incidentals,’ put in Ian.
‘What about you, Con?’
Con sipped his tea slowly. ‘I’d have to think about it for a while.’
