It's All About Him (39 page)

'There's a new guy in town and I've heard very good reports about him. If you like I'll ask him to come and take a look.'

Dee sighed. 'Yes, I suppose so. It has to be sorted.'

'And if you can't afford to pay him, I will,' he told her firmly. 'For once I'm in a position where I can help out.'

She smiled, bending to kiss the top of his head. 'Thanks, but I should be okay.'

'But if you're not,' he persisted, 'tell me. No more secrets, okay?'

'No more secrets on either side,' she amended.

His eyes widened as he held up his hands, all innocence. 'I've never had any secrets.'

Dee threw a tea towel at him. 'No, but you don't tell me anything either, and that's just the same as having secrets.'

He shrugged. 'What can I say? I'm just not the chatty sort.'

'Don't I know it,' she muttered.

He laughed, reaching for her again. 'Okay, I'll make you a deal. You can ask me one question a week and I promise, whatever it is, I'll do my best to answer it.'

She studied him suspiciously. 'About anything?'

He nodded. 'That's what I said. Go on, you can ask me the first one right now.'

'No way.' Dee slipped out of his grasp, a wide grin on her face. 'I have to have a think first.'

Conor rolled his eyes dramatically. 'Oh God, what have I let myself in for?'

She went to the fridge to put away the milk and took out two beers. 'Want one?'

He nodded. 'Just the one, I want to get home early and start work on the back room. My computer equipment should arrive in the next couple of days.'

'You've gone completely mad with this money, haven't you?'

'Well, every penny has always gone into the farm in the past. It's nice to be able to spend something on the house for a change.'

'It was a bit basic,' Dee acknowledged. In the two years since Conor had moved to Banford, he had done nothing to the house but as he had spent most of his time on the farm, in his parents' house or with her, it hadn't been a problem.

He sighed. 'I must be getting old, I kind of like my comforts. I blame you, you've spoilt me.'

She laughed. 'I'll take that as a compliment but I wouldn't get too focussed on your house just yet because now that you've told Sam you're going to get chickens, he'll be on your case until you build that chicken house.'

'Don't worry, it shouldn't take long but you're right.' He drank the last of his beer and stood up. 'I'd better get back to work.'

Dee moved into his arms and hugged him tightly. 'Thank you, Conor, for everything, but especially for your kindness to Sam.'

He kissed her. 'He's a wonderful little boy.'

'Do you want to go up and say goodbye or will I call him down?'

'I'll go up.' Conor gave her another quick kiss and walked out of the kitchen.

Dee smiled as she listened to him take the stairs two at a time, knowing he'd be up there for at least twenty minutes with Sam possibly even wangling a story out of him. There was a time when she would have followed him up and told Sam that it was time to say goodnight and that Conor had other things to do. It had taken a while for her to realize that Conor spent time with Sam, not because of her but because he wanted to and their relationship was a completely separate thing. Sometimes – and she hated to admit it even to herself – she was jealous of their closeness but most of the time, like now, she just thanked her lucky stars.

'Change of plan for today's show,' Carolyn announced as soon as Dee walked through the door. Marge and April were already sitting at the table and Dee slipped into a chair and took the A4 sheet Carolyn held out to her.

'The opposition party have just announced that if they get into power after the next election, they will introduce the same traffic-light food labelling system that was introduced in the UK last year,' she explained to Dee.

'Wow, that's interesting.' Dee said, scanning the press release.

'Are you for or against?' April asked, sitting back and taking a sip of coffee.

'Definitely for,' Dee replied, looking up. 'Aren't you?'

'I'm not too sure. It may cause even more confusion in the long run. I mean, fruit is high in sugar but with this labelling a perfectly natural, healthy smoothy could be labelled red, which is very misleading. Also, the foods are graded in relation to other foods on the market so you may get oven chips that are coded green but that just means that, as chips go, they're healthier than other brands.'

Marge sat back in her chair and glanced at her watch. 'Can you explain it to me very simply, April?' she begged. 'I have to leave in fifteen minutes and this press release is too long and complicated.'

April nodded. 'Okay, it basically works the exact same as ordinary traffic lights. Red is danger and is used to warn you if a food is high in fat, sugar or salt. Orange shows that the level of these constituents is acceptable, and green shows that the levels are low. So, for example, you might have a ready meal that has a green light for sugar, orange for fat and orange for salt.'

'What about red?' Marge asked.

'I don't think we'll see many foods with a red light,' April said. 'They won't sell if there's a healthier option.'

'Has the system worked in Britain?' Marge asked.

'It's got mixed reviews,' Carolyn told her. 'Some of the big manufacturers don't like it.'

'That's a plus for a start,' Dee said.

'Why?' Marge asked.

Dee shrugged. 'Like April says, they're going to have a harder job shifting products that have red lights on the front of the package so it will probably force them to produce healthier products and that can't be a bad thing.'

'Yes, true,' April agreed, 'but it's still misleading. Just because a processed meat pie has three green lights, it doesn't mean it's a healthy option.'

Dee nodded. 'Yes, April, but the people who eat meat pies are going to eat meat pies no matter what; at least this way they may choose one that is slightly healthier. Also, all the nutritional information and the guideline daily amounts would still be shown somewhere on the packaging.'

'But the traffic lights will be on the front,' Carolyn added.

'So you're for, Dee,' Marge said, making a note, 'and you're against, April?'

'Not against,' April corrected, 'but cautious.'

'That's great,' Carolyn said. 'We will be joined by the party spokesman on food and agriculture – what's his name again?'

'No, idea,' Marge replied.

Carolyn laughed. 'I'll confirm that with you later. You get the politician to explain how the system works, Marge; Dee, you could be the consumer's representative. Have you any questions you could ask?'

'Oh, yes.' Dee started to scribble notes in the margin of the press release.

'And I'll be the Rottweiler,' April said with a grin.

'Excellent.' Marge stood up.

Carolyn smiled. 'Well done, ladies, thank you.'

The spot went like clockwork and afterwards they went to the canteen to celebrate.

'This is great, we don't have any work to do on next week's show now,' April reminded Dee.

'True,' Carolyn said, 'but you might have some other things to discuss.'

'Oh?' Dee looked at her curiously.

Carolyn smiled. 'I had a meeting with Marty this morning and he's very pleased with the way the nutrition spot is working out. So much so that he thinks we should continue it until the end of the series.'

'Oh!' Dee smiled delightedly. 'That's wonderful.'

'You and April have been wonderful,' Marge confirmed. 'We have had more emails and texts about diet than about anything else covered on Wednesdays.'

'How many weeks are we talking about?' April asked.

'A further twelve weeks on top of your original contract,' Carolyn said, looking from one to the other. 'Are you both up for that?'

'That's fine with me. Dee?' April said and looked at Dee.

'No problem at all,' Dee said, happily thinking that she should definitely be able to pay a plumber now.

Peggy arrived early at the busy café on Grafton Street and buying a black coffee, she carried it carefully to a table by the window. As she waited, she fiddled nervously with her spoon and when she raised the cup to her lips, her hand shook so badly, she slopped the hot liquid over her hand and into the saucer. She mopped half-heartedly at the mess with the paper napkin and stared out of the window at the passing crowds, wondering what Dee would say.

Neil had noticed there was something wrong with her and when he had observed that she was very quiet she had said she wasn't feeling well. It wasn't a lie. She had been feeling positively nauseous since she had figured out exactly what those papers meant. She had felt like setting fire to the dictionary, irrationally blaming it for revealing her son's lies, but in the end she had tucked it back in the drawer of her bedside table. No doubt she would need it again.

Her very first instinct had been to confront him but then if he left after Dee had decided to let him see Sam, it would be her fault and she couldn't live with that responsibility. No, she had decided, instead she would present Dee with the facts, or the few that she had, and it would be Dee's decision what to do with them. It was a cowardly act but Peggy couldn't think of any way around it. Whatever the outcome was for Neil she didn't want to give up her grandson. It didn't matter if he called her Aunty Peggy until her dying day, it would be infinitely preferable to losing him. She groped in her pocket for a tissue and was dabbing at her eyes when Dee walked in.

'Sorry I'm late.' Dee beamed down at Peggy, her face still made up for the camera, and Peggy thought how beautiful and sweet and honest she looked. 'I'll just get myself a cup of tea. Do you want anything?'

'No, I'm fine,' Peggy told her with a faint smile. She watched as Dee went to the counter, watched her return, and waited as the girl settled herself, opposite and shrugged out of her jacket.

'So, how are you?' Dee asked, looking at her properly for the first time, her smile immediately fading. 'Peggy, is everything all right?'

Peggy shook her head.

Dee grasped her hand. 'What is it, Peggy, are you ill? Is there something wrong with Neil?'

Peggy laughed but her eyes were dead. 'Yes to both questions, really. There is definitely something wrong with my son and I am sick, so sick of him.' She hid her face in her hands. 'Oh, Dee, I'm sorry.'

'Peggy, please, you're scaring me.'

Peggy took her hands away and looked at Dee with red-rimmed eyes. 'I'm sorry.'

'Please, just tell me.'

Peggy nodded silently and clasping her hands together again she began to tell Dee about how she had been stealing into Neil's room on a regular basis over the last few weeks and rifling through his luggage.

Dee looked vaguely shocked but when Peggy paused and looked at her for a reaction she just shrugged. 'I'd probably have done the same thing. He hasn't done much to inspire our trust.'

'That's what I thought. But it wasn't just that, Dee. I thought it was wrong that he wasn't talking to me about his gambling and it seemed to me that there could be only one reason for that.'

'That he hadn't actually stopped,' Dee guessed.

Peggy nodded. 'Or that he had relapsed. Either way I couldn't help him unless I knew the truth. I talked to a counsellor and he told me that gamblers were consummate and very skilled liars—'

Dee nodded. 'They told me that too.'

'So that's why I invaded his privacy, Dee.'

'You don't have to explain yourself to me, Peggy.'

Peggy nodded her thanks and took a deep breath before continuing. 'I found three things. The first was a bill from a garage. That car he's driving? It's just a rental.'

'I suppose there could be reasons for that,' Dee said.

Peggy's smile was grim. 'Yes, except Neil had bragged to me about what a good deal he had struck with the dealer.'

'Oh.' Dee's face fell.

'It gets worse, I'm afraid,' Peggy warned her softly.

'Go on.'

'There was a document about a loan – I'm not sure of the details, it was in Spanish – but I could figure out the words "final notice" and it was printed in red.'

Dee stared at her. 'How much?'

Peggy swallowed hard. 'Seventy-three thousand euros,' she whispered.

Dee put a hand over her mouth. 'Was there a date on it?'

'I couldn't find one, no.'

'So maybe it was an old bill and he's paid it.'

'Oh, come on, Dee, he'd hardly be carrying an old bill around with him and how would he have ever been able to pay off that kind of money?'

'He owns his own business now,' Dee reminded her, clutching at straws.

Peggy frowned, that hadn't occurred to her. 'But it was a final notice,' she said doubtfully.

Dee shrugged. 'Isn't that the way big business works? You don't pay bills until you absolutely have to'.

'I don't know, do you really think so?'

Dee nodded confidently. 'I'm sure there's a simple explanation but you know what? We're going to ask him. You are going to bring him over to my place on Friday and we are going to talk all this through with him. What's more, if he wants to see Sam he's going to have to start going to Gamblers Anonymous meetings on a regular basis. He has to be straight up and honest with me, Peggy, or I can't go ahead with it.'

Peggy nodded hesitantly. 'It could be exactly what he needs or—' She sighed.

'Or what?'

'It may frighten him away for good.'

Dee reached over and took her hand. 'I know that would be very hard for you, Peggy, you've only just got him back, but I don't see what choice I have.'

Peggy squeezed her hand tightly. 'You don't and neither do I. You see, I haven't really got him back, Dee. He doesn't talk to me at all about what's going on in his life either now in Ireland or when he was in Spain. He won't even talk about his time with you.' She smiled faintly. 'The only subject that's not taboo is Sam and even that was out of bounds for a while after he found out about "Aunty Peggy".'

'So, are we agreed? Friday, at my place, we confront him.'

Peggy frowned. 'Will Sam be in the house?'

Dee shook her head. 'Absolutely not. So, what do you say?'