The Rose Garden (2 page)

‘Should I use it to pay off the loans?’

‘You could withdraw some of the funds, but it’s probably better to stick it out and hope for an increase in values, an upturn in the market,’ he advised. ‘Either way it is a bit of a gamble.’

Molly had always hated gambling; it was something she and David would never contemplate. David had been sensible, paying into a proper pension fund recommended by the bank and now where had it got them?

‘What should I do?’

‘Obviously the fact that the mortgage on Mossbawn has been cleared is of immense value, but it’s the other outstanding loans that worry us. The bank is concerned about how these loans will be serviced given your current circumstances.’

‘I have no idea,’ she admitted honestly. ‘I’ve got the life insurance policy money but that’s about all. David’s pension, from what you are telling me, is worth nothing by all accounts and I’m not working.’

‘The important thing for the bank is that you find some way to clear these loans or reduce them to a manageable scale. Would you consider using the insurance money you received for David’s death?’

Molly didn’t believe what he was saying. That insurance money was all she had.

‘Or perhaps you’d prefer to free up some of your assets?’

‘What assets?’

‘Well, there is the house itself, of course, now that it is “mortgage free”,’ he said calmly. ‘Perhaps you should consider selling Mossbawn, though unfortunately property prices are low at present.’

‘Sell the house? It’s my home, the girls’ home …’

‘Then perhaps there may be some antiques or heirlooms or the like?’

Molly had to stop herself from laughing aloud at the thought of
some valuable undiscovered heirloom! If there were anything of value they would have sold it by now.

‘I need to think about this,’ she said, trying not to give in to the panicky feeling that made her feel like she couldn’t get a breath.

‘Of course,’ he said, ‘of course.’

‘I’m meeting my brother-in-law Bill later. He’s an accountant. I’ll talk to him about it.’

‘I know how difficult this must be for you, Molly,’ Dermot said apologetically. ‘But the crash in the market and drop in bank shares is something none of us could ever have expected.’

She didn’t know what to say to him. She had no intention of letting him off the hook.

‘My own pension is only a fraction of what it should be,’ he admitted, ‘and I’m due to retire next year so it is a worry, a big worry.’

‘Perhaps you will have to sell your home?’ she offered testily.

At least he had the good grace to look discomfited.

‘Molly, we need to work things out in the most financially beneficial way for you and the bank in order to ensure a way for you to clear or pay down these loans and the overdraft.’

‘David was putting money into his pension here in the bank month after month under the impression that he was building up a nice nest egg for when we were older and he’d retired,’ she said angrily.

‘Nest eggs are few and far between these days.’

‘I have to think about all this, talk to the girls, get Bill’s advice …’

‘Of course, but I shall expect to hear back from you within the next few weeks,’ he reminded her firmly, standing up from his desk. ‘Then we can clarify the new loan-repayment schedule.’

Walking away from the bank, Molly was shaking. Her world was falling apart and she had no idea what to do. She just longed to be out of the city and back home in Mossbawn, far from all this stress and pressure.

WALKING TO THE NEARBY MERRION HOTEL, MOLLY’S MIND WAS IN
turmoil. As she entered the old Georgian building opposite Leinster House she was relieved to see that Bill O’Reilly, her brother-in-law, was already sitting in the hotel’s comfortable drawing room perusing the
Financial Times
.

He got to his feet the minute he saw her approach. Bill, as handsome and strong as ever, was sporting a tan and was more relaxed than she had seen him in a long time. A bit greyer, but still dressed immaculately in a good shirt and smart blazer.

‘How are you, Molly dear?’ he asked as they hugged each other.

‘Upset,’ she admitted.

She could see concern flit across his broad face as she sat in the plush, gold-striped velvet armchair across from his.

‘I’ve just come from meeting the bank manager,’ she confided, ‘and basically they want me to consolidate the loans and pay them back immediately. He even suggested that I sell Mossbawn!’

‘Oh dear,’ said Bill. ‘I suppose it was to be expected, given the situation.’

‘I have no idea what to do … what David would have wanted …’

‘First let’s order something – you must be exhausted,’ he coaxed.

‘A double brandy, that’s what I need,’ she joked.

‘Not to be recommended this time of the day,’ he smiled, ‘but
what about the warm chicken salad, or soup, or the smoked salmon?’

Molly studied the menu quickly and opted for the chicken salad.

Bill sat back, listening as she began to tell him about her earlier meeting. Being an accountant, he had a sound business brain and she knew that she could trust him to have her best interest at heart. He was a good man, the man her sister Ruth had fallen in love with and married. When David had died last year, Bill was the first on the phone to her, not just to commiserate but to help organize things. He’d been wonderful, as he was the one person who knew and understood exactly how she was feeling – for he had lost Ruth a few years ago.

Her sister and Bill had been such a great couple, with three great kids. She and David had always loved when they came to visit them at Mossbawn and the two families had got together at weekends and holidays. She missed those days – and still missed Ruth terribly. Losing her older sister to cancer twelve years ago had been such a blow. Bill and their three children, Liz, Kim and Mike, had been left utterly devastated.

‘Molly, at least you are lucky that you own Mossbawn outright and have no outstanding mortgage on the place,’ Bill said, serious. ‘Mortgages – that’s what’s crippling most people.’

‘But there are debts,’ she admitted. ‘There are the loans for the money we spent on the house. David had always planned to pay them back bit by bit over the years.’

‘Loans can be restructured,’ he murmured firmly.

‘But David’s pension is practically worth nothing,’ she said angrily.

‘Some of my clients have lost almost everything,’ Bill admitted, ‘and even Carole’s taken a huge hit with her pension.’

Molly blushed. She had avoided asking him about his wife up to now. She still found it so hard to accept that Bill was remarried; that despite his love for Ruth he had managed to find himself another wife.

‘How is Carole?’

‘She’s fine,’ he smiled. ‘She’s good for me! We play golf, travel, go to the theatre … We’ve managed to downsize and de-clutter our lives.’

‘So I’ve heard.’

‘The girls been complaining again?’ he joked.

She smiled. She was in regular contact with her two nieces, who kept her up to date with the various goings-on of their new stepmother and her influence over their father.

‘I am lucky to have found Carole,’ he said slowly. ‘You know I wasn’t very good at being on my own.’

‘I hate it,’ she said vehemently. ‘I just hate being on my own … I’m not used to it!’

‘Molly, I understand, believe me,’ he said gently. ‘I know how much you miss David.’

‘Every day,’ she whispered. ‘But at times like this …’

‘Listen, why don’t you give me a copy of all the relevant accounts and statements and interest payments and bank stuff and I’ll see what I can do?’

She watched as he flicked through her folder, extracting exactly what he needed.

‘I think the bank just want me to sell Mossbawn,’ she sighed.

‘Well, that would certainly solve their problems,’ he quipped, ‘but you must only consider selling the house if it is what you really want to do.’

‘I can’t even think at the moment,’ she admitted. ‘Half the time my brain feels like slush. But the house is big – it’s too big to manage on my own without him.’

‘Molly, don’t rush into any decisions. Let me look at the figures first,’ he said calmly, ‘before you do anything.’

‘Sure,’ she said, relieved that Bill was there to advise her.

Over coffee they put business matters aside, chatting about their kids and their latest antics, as Bill showed her photos of his grandchildren on his phone. Finishing up, he insisted on paying for their lunch.

‘I’ll be in touch with you if I need anything else,’ he promised, standing up. ‘We should probably aim to talk once I’ve had a chance to go through everything.’

‘Bill, that would be great.’

‘Why don’t you come and have dinner or lunch with Carole and me the next time you’re in Dublin?’ he offered.

‘Thanks, Bill.’ Molly knew in her heart that having lunch with the woman who had replaced her sister was something she could never do.

Walking out to the street they said goodbye and headed in opposite directions. Realizing that the time on the meter had nearly expired, Molly had to rush back to where she had parked her car, hoping that she hadn’t been clamped.

THEY SAY THINGS COME IN THREES …

First Kim had lost her job … then her boyfriend … and now she was losing her home. Her life was a
disaster
!

Standing among the jumble of boxes and bags and suitcases scattered around her feet on the floor as she packed up and got ready to leave the apartment, Kim O’Reilly realized that this was all she possessed. Shoes, handbags and clothes, all with the right fancy labels but nothing worth a fraction of what she had paid for it … Her life was a mess, everything collapsing around her, and there was absolutely nothing she could do about it.

She was moving out of the apartment she’d shared with Gareth, her boyfriend, for the past year and a half. She’d been happy, looking forward to the future, to getting engaged and married like some of their friends. But then Gareth had suddenly ended it. Maybe she was stupid or dumb, but Kim certainly hadn’t seen it coming … hadn’t expected their relationship to break up the way it did with both of them angry and hating each other. Now she felt so alone and hurt, and she couldn’t imagine her life without him.

In the kitchen, she checked the pristine shelves of expensive glasses and plates and dinnerware. They’d bought most of this stuff together, imagining a lifetime of dinner and supper parties and shared meals. In fairness, Gareth had paid for most of it, so he should keep it. She grabbed her two favourite mugs – one with a dog on it and the other a souvenir of New York; her rainbow-coloured
pasta bowl and plate set; and her Cheeky Pigs apron – Gareth would never use that anyway. She took two paintings of Evie’s that hung in the dining area down off the wall. No way she would let Gareth have them!

Sniffing back her tears, she continued to pack. A part of her was waiting … hoping for the impossible, a phone call or a text message from Gareth telling her to stay, that they would sort it out, try to work things out … but there was nothing, just utter silence – a miserable reminder of the end of their fractured relationship and her need to move out and try to begin again. How she was ever going to do that was utterly beyond her, but staying here on her own and trying to pay the massive rent was not an option.

In the bathroom she collected her shower cap and toothbrush, all the face oils and creams and scrubs that littered her side of the bathroom cabinet. The pile was growing and back in the bedroom she shoved them into her smaller weekend case. Pulling her bundle of glossy
Style
and
Celeb
magazines from the bedside locker, she marched back into the kitchen and junked them in the fancy silver recycling bin.

Looking around her, she seemed to have managed to remove all traces of her having shared Gareth’s life here for those nineteen months. The apartment had returned to the way it was before she had moved in with him. This was so shit. She had nothing …

It took three trips in the lift, laden down with all her bags and boxes and two suitcases, to get all her stuff squashed into her car. Heading back up to the fourth floor for the last time, Kim stood for a few minutes, overwhelmed, taking in the ceiling-to-ground glass windows of the living room which overlooked Dublin’s former docklands. With the cream leather couches and expensive circular dining table and coordinating display unit, it was all so perfect. The kitchen, the massive bedroom, even the silver-and-grey bathroom – too perfect … She didn’t fit into it, this place, this life with Gareth Allen. She wasn’t perfect enough.

Taking her keys from the ring, she put them on the table and, closing the door, began to walk as fast as she could, wanting to get
the hell out of there before she broke down again. Moving out was the end – the end to her life with Gareth.

Driving out of the city towards Stepaside, Kim tried to stay calm and focus on her driving – the last thing she needed was to be in a car accident. Her sister Liz had insisted that she come and stay with her and Joe until she got back on her feet.

Okay, her friends Alex and Evie had also offered to put her up for a few days, but sleeping on a couch or a futon in their already cramped apartments for the foreseeable future didn’t seem a good idea. Besides, Alex’s girlfriend Vicky hated her and Evie’s tiny flat at the top of a Georgian building was so cluttered with Evie’s art paraphernalia that she doubted she would fit!

Kim braced herself for that barrage of questions she would face once her sister got her hands on her. Liz had offered to help her pack up and move, but she had just wanted to do it on her own. But at least going to stay at Liz’s she didn’t have to pretend or put on a brave face. Liz knew exactly how utterly shit her life was at this present moment.

Finding herself unemployed, homeless and single at almost twenty-nine was a nightmare. Eight months ago she’d lost her job in the Irish Bank Group. Kim had been one of over two hundred staff members called up to the big HR department in the sky to be given a spiel about the company’s need to cut costs in the current economic climate and rationalize by closing departments and branches. She’d worked there since college and had never particularly liked her job, but had enjoyed the salary and benefits that came with working in a busy banking team. Confident of her ability to find a new job, she had signed up immediately with about twelve recruitment firms, but months later still found herself unemployed and considered almost unemployable.