Claire laughed.
‘So, what are you up to today? Are you getting this lovely weather over there?’
‘Yes, it’s gorgeous. I’m going to visit my mother this morning. Maybe I’ll meet up with a friend later on, and do something.’
‘How is your mother?’
‘She’s good, doing well. How about you? What are you doing?’
‘I’m meeting the guys for a run on the Heath – I’m just waiting for them now. And later a bunch of us are going for brunch – a new place by the canal in Little Venice.’
‘That sounds lovely,’ Claire said wistfully, suddenly feeling very distant from Mark ? he had a whole life she knew nothing about, a life she wasn’t part of. She didn’t know who his friends were; she couldn’t picture him with them. He seemed so remote from her.
‘It’s a perfect day for it,’ Mark broke into her thoughts. ‘I wish you could come.’
‘Me too.’ She sighed.
‘Or that I could be there with you. We could go to the Iveagh Gardens.’
She smiled, thinking of their kiss.
‘Any chance of you getting over next weekend? I’m dying to see you.’
Claire thought. She knew her mother wouldn’t mind. She was safe and cared-for in the nursing home and would have plenty of visitors at the weekend. She would drum it into her brothers that they had to visit too. ‘Yeah, that should be doable,’ she said. ‘I’ll look into flights and stuff and get back to you. Okay?’
‘Great! Well, the guys are here. I’d better go.’
‘Okay. Have fun.’
‘Looking forward to seeing you again.’
‘Yeah, me too. Bye.’ Claire hung up, cheered by the thought of next weekend, but she quickly became deflated again. It was nice to have something to look forward to, but that didn’t solve her need for company right now. In a way, talking to Mark had only made her feel more isolated, and a bit sad. Determined not to let it get her down, she rang a couple of friends to see if anyone wanted to meet up later. But Jane, an old school friend, was too busy ferrying her son around all day to parties and sports, and Catherine was on her way to a wedding in Wicklow. Oh well, she would visit her mother, then spend the afternoon reading in the garden before heading back to Luca’s. There were a lot worse ways to spend a day.
She was dressed too warmly for the weather, so she swapped her boots for flat pumps and changed into cropped jeans and a short-sleeved top before going to the nursing home. She grabbed a light summer jacket from the wardrobe and was on the way out to the car when she gota call on her mobile. It was one of the care staff from the home, requesting her to see the manager when she was next visiting. She explained that she was on her way and said she would speak to Mrs Byrne when she got there.
Damn, she thought, as she tossed her mobile onto the passenger seat and put on her seatbelt. She could have done without that today. She didn’t like Theresa Byrne and hated having to deal with her. She was a tough woman, who tried hard to come across as caring and maternal, but underneath the phony façade she was a hard-hearted bully. Claire found her intimidating. She was hopeless at dealing with people like that and always let them get the better of her. Still, she shouldn’t let herself get wound up about it – it was probably just some administrative formality she needed to see her about.
When she arrived at the home, one of the nursing staff showed her to Theresa’s office. She was sitting behind her desk – a plump, middle-aged woman with iron-grey hair cut in a rigid bob that was a monument to hairspray. Claire had never seen it move.
‘Ah, Claire.’ She looked up. ‘Thank you for coming. Have you been in with Mum?’
‘No, I’m on my way now. I called here first. You wanted to see me?’
‘Yes. Sit down.’ She waved Claire to the seat in front of her desk, then leant forward confidentially. ‘Are you aware that we had anincidentlast night?’
Claire’s stomach turned over. She knew Theresa meant her mother – she was a big fan of the royal ‘we’ – and her mother’s ‘incidents’ usually involved ambulances, paramedics, heart-stopping races to hospital and teams of doctors working to bring her back to life. Why hadn’t anyone called her? Jesus, had they called the house and she wasn’t there? But they had her mobile number.
‘Nothing to worry about,’ Theresa reassured her, clasping her hands together on the desk, as if in prayer.
‘Not a medical emergency?’
‘Oh no! Nothing like that. Although we did end up having to call an ambulance for poor June…’
Claire wondered why she was being told about June, whoever she was.
‘I’m sorry if I gave you a fright, dear,’ Theresa said.
Claire nodded, disliking the woman more than ever.
