Family Business

by Muriel Bolger

Genres: Family Life; Women's Fiction; Romance

Synopsis

Can a holiday change your life? A sparkling new novel about family, friendship and future plans from bestselling author Muriel Bolger. Young, clever and accomplished, Anne is fully committed to her career at her father's law practice - much to the delight of her parents and the not-so-hidden resentment of her younger sister Gabby. She doesn't have time to think of her dreams of art college, or, indeed, the lack of love in her life. Then Anne finds herself facing charismatic barrister Daniel Hassett in court. Equally ambitious, they seem to be the perfect match. But just as Anne and Daniel's relationship heats up, a series of shocking events force Anne to question what she really wants. Will an unexpected French inheritance be just the thing to help her decide a way forward - in law and in love? Or should she risk everything she's worked so hard for?

Release date: July 6, 2017

Publisher: Hachette Ireland

Print pages: 352

Sample

Inside the offices of Cullen–Ffinch, solicitors and barristers-at-law, Anne Cullen gathered up the stacks of files she had been scrutinising.

‘Whoever predicted that computers would herald the end of paper was so wrong. If anything they’ve created an even bigger mountain than before.’

‘Charlie Lahiffe won’t be worrying about things like that,’ Anne’s assistant, Paula, said, ‘whether he wins his case or not. He could well afford to plant a whole rainforest with the money he’s paying his senior counsel to screw that poor wife of his. Though maybe poor is the wrong word to use. Wasn’t it her family’s money that made him what he is today? In hindsight that’s probably why he married her. Rich lists, a helicopter that survived the Celtic tiger nosedive and a few homes close to his tax-dodge investments. He’d have none of those without her.’

‘Absolutely,’ Anne replied, ‘but it makes me sad to see what’s happened to them. They were such a golden couple when I was growing up. They were always part of our lives, at dinner parties and bashes and skiing holidays. I always liked him, and Dee and Mum have been friends forever.’

‘It kinda shatters your faith in marriage, doesn’t it?’ Paula said. ‘The alarm bells should have started ringing when he got that meno-Porsche.’ They laughed. ‘His red meno-Porsche.’

‘He’s such a stereotype, isn’t he?’

‘Meno-Porsche?’ Maurice Cullen asked from the doorway. ‘What’s a meno-Porsche?’

Paula laughed. ‘It’s an integral part of the male menopause for some who can afford it; others settle for anything low, sleek and noisy!’

‘Where have I been hiding? All that seems to have passed me by, but I have to agree with you, Anne, as a couple they were well suited.’ Maurice said, ‘Your mum and I had some great times with them through the years, before this business. In fact we always felt they looked on you as the daughter they never had.’

‘He let money and his ego go to his head,’ Paula said, gathering up the files. ‘It does that to some people. They have to show it off and that’s when they begin believing they can buy anyone and anything they want.’

Maurice nodded. ‘Sadly he won’t be able to buy his way out of this mess. Bigamy is not looked on favourably in this jurisdiction. I really wish we weren’t involved, but we are, so you get down there to the courts and show them. You can easily win this one for Dee.’

‘I’m still not happy to be handling this, Dad, and you know it.’ Anne said.

‘Let’s not go over old ground again. We had no choice. Dee needs our support and our professionalism at a time like this. How do you think I feel acting against my friend? It’s a lose–lose quandary. If I’d said no to her I’d have had your mother’s anger to contend with on top of everything else. And I know Charlie feels I’ve just abandoned him to his fate when he really needs a friend.’

‘He brought it on himself,’ Maurice said to Anne.

‘He’ll have plenty of time to reflect on his actions after today,’ Paula said.

‘I’d like to be there for you, and wish I could go too,’ he said.

‘I know that, Dad, and I do understand why you feel you can’t. I hope I don’t disappoint either of you. Dee deserves to win.’

‘She will,’ he replied.

‘Of course she will, although it won’t be easy,’ Paula said. ‘She’s been handling it all with such control and graciousness so far, but whatever the outcome she’ll be hounded by the media after this.’

‘Tell her to keep doing whatever she is doing,’ Maurice said, looking at his watch. ‘You’d better get off – you don’t want to be late. I know it’s a big case at this stage in your career; just have faith in yourself.’

‘I will, Dad, but you never know what way Downey will go. He’s not known as “the Inscrutable” for nothing.’

‘That’s an act. Just remember that. He may not show his thoughts, but he is fair. Your case is very strong, and no matter what happens, it’s Charlie who is guilty, one hundred per cent, not Dee. She’s done nothing wrong.’

She nodded. ‘I know that. I also know he has Daniel Hassett as his senior counsel and truthfully that man still terrifies me!’

‘Why?’ Paula asked, looking from one to the other.

‘I don’t honestly know; I felt like that since the first time I saw him as a law student. He strutted around the place with the confidence of someone who is totally comfortable in his own world. He has this sense of entitlement which both intrigued and petrified us all, male and female.’

‘He’s very easy on the eye.’

‘I have to agree he is,’ Anne said, ‘but we were all in awe of him since first seeing him in action. Back when we’d amble in to the courts to get a feel for how everything worked, watching how the different barristers and judges conducted the proceedings, Daniel Hassett would arrive on a Harley, clad from head to toe in black leathers only to appear transformed into a terrifying adversary once he’d changed into court dress. He, his successes and his lifestyle were the ones we all wanted to emulate.’

‘I can’t wait to see him in action,’ said Paula, ‘and to see you take him down off his perch!’

This was to be the first time Anne faced him in head-on battle, and although her father wouldn’t physically be there she knew she had his full support. This was without doubt her highest-profile case to date and she was nervous. By comparison she was a relatively inexperienced junior, a lightweight pitted against a heavyweight. She tried to steer her thoughts away from such anxieties. It was a watertight case and she had to remain positive and confident.

As they waited for Dee to arrive, Paula said, ‘I wonder if the other wife will be there. If it were me I’m sure I’d be curious to see what my predecessor looked like in the flesh.’

‘I believe she will be, although I don’t know if I would do that. I think it would be much harder on Dee, thinking of him with her, courting her, buying her presents, taking her out to dine, proposing, while she waited at home for him, unsuspecting.’

‘I think I’d want to castrate him,’ Paula declared.

‘It’s just as well that’s not on the statute books. Remember he’s made a fool of her too. I’m sure she wants her revenge. Otherwise why would she fly halfway across the world when she isn’t entitled to a penny from him legally?’ Anne argued.

‘To make sure he gets his comeuppance; to see him squirm when he’s faced with his two wives in the one place and to be there when he’s sentenced.’

‘Oh, you are evil, Paula! Remind me to keep on your good side.’

Dee arrived just then and together they made their way downstairs to the taxi.

‘Nervous?’ Anne asked.

‘Yes and angry, disappointed and hurt,’ Dee replied. ‘A total mess, if I’m honest.’

Anne hugged the older woman. ‘Leave it to us.’ She held Dee’s hand on the short drive to the courthouse, squeezing it as she noticed the waiting mob jostling for the best vantage point.

‘Right, here we go,’ said Paula. ‘Heads up – time to show the opposition and the paparazzi that we’re ready for battle.’

I just hope that’ll be enough, Anne thought to herself, wondering how long a road they had ahead. It might be a protracted trial; no one could predict. It had been postponed twice already as new evidence and clarifications were deemed to be necessary before it could proceed. She’d have to make sure to get the point across that this had caused further anguish and upset to her client. While the accused was seen around town projecting an image of a carefree and untroubled man, Dee had become a virtual prisoner in her home.

‘Don’t make eye contact with any of them,’ Anne told Dee, ‘and say nothing, no matter how they provoke you.’ Someone opened the car door from the outside, and cameras clicked and flashed as they made their way though the frenzy to the relative quiet inside the building.

Anne had read law reluctantly at first. All through school she had found study easy, and, although a straight ‘A’ student, all she had wanted was to become was an artist, a career choice that had brought on her mother’s conniptions any time she’d mentioned it; Sheila Cullen had bigger plans for her two girls. From a very early age if Anne had argued a point with her parents or her younger sister Gabby, her mother used to tell her she had a big future ahead of her. ‘That one will be a wig when she grows up, the way she has with words,’ she’d say to her husband.

For a long time Anne hadn’t understood what she’d meant. ‘But I don’t want to be a wig. I like my plaits and I want them to grow so long that I can sit on them.’

‘You can keep your plaits, no one will touch those,’ her mother had told her, ‘although I doubt you’ll still have those by then.’

Her father had explained the etiquette of courtroom hierarchy and its attire. She’d listened and argued. ‘I won’t need a wig. I’m going to be an artist, a painter!’

‘You can do that in your spare time, not as a career,’ her mother had dictated. ‘You’ll never make a living drawing little pictures for people.’ Such remarks had confused Anne because she’d often seen her mother proudly showing the same ‘little pictures’ to anyone who’d cared to look.

Her father had often stepped in. ‘There’s plenty of time to make your mind up,’ he’d told her, ‘so let’s postpone the arguments until then. I’ve no intentions of going anywhere and the firm will still be there if you want to join us. I’d love if you did, but it’s your life and if the thoughts of working alongside your old man freak you out that’ll be fine too. It’ll be your decision when you’re old enough to make it.’

They had a bond, her and her dad, from the time she could toddle and he’d sit her on his knee and draw animals for her. Together, like conspirators, they knew how to handle her mother.

‘The first thing you must do is to let her think she has won. The second is to let her win, occasionally,’ he’d told her once, grinning. ‘That’s the secret. Choose your battles and be prepared to lose some for the sake of all of us! But hold on to your dreams and go for them. We only have one life here so make the most of it.’

‘Did you, Dad? Did you follow your dreams?’

‘Yes, every one of them and I enjoy my life. Of course there will be challenges – there’s no opt-out clause for those in anyone’s journey here – but if the rest is in place you’ll get through them too.’

She had taken his advice back then and as she grew she saw herself working in a studio in Provence, or the Algarve, becoming recognised for her art. But when the time came to make decisions to bring her there, against her instincts she opted for law because she knew it was what her parents really wanted. Her painting was relegated to spare-time relaxation, and then her spare time seemed to shrink as study and a very enjoyable social life got in the way.

It made sense, reading law as her father had done. It had been his whole life. He had joined the old and eminently respected firm of Ffinch and Ffinch when he qualified. A father and son enterprise, when Ffinch senior died Maurice was given the opportunity of becoming Peadar Junior’s partner. Despite being quite senior in years that moniker stuck and Peadar continued to be referred to as Junior.

‘I don’t want to spend my life handling traffic offences and house sales,’ she’d argued after several work experience stints. ‘I’d die of boredom. I’d like to do something more rewarding, more fulfilling even.’

‘Then look at family law,’ her father advised. ‘That’ll never be dull. It will always be fulfilling and often frustrating, but it’ll certainly never be boring.’

The idea of that interested her.

‘You only have to look at the complications that arose when Darcy’s parents died.’

Her best friend Darcy’s parents had never married and died in a road accident when she was in her teens. Neither had made wills and it took several years for their affairs to be sorted in favour of their only child, and that had only happened after relatives she had never known existed had made claims and counterclaims on her parents’ estates. Anne had often heard her father say, ‘Where there’s a will there are relatives and where there’s no will there are always more!’

When Maurice had suggested she should handle Dee’s case she had protested.

‘I’m not sure if I’m qualified enough to take it on. She needs a senior counsel.’

‘You are, and having you on her side will give Dee some much-needed support. Besides –’ he had grinned at her ‘– from an ethical stance you can’t say no to me. The Bar’s code of conduct requires that a barrister must accept a brief from a solicitor to appear before a court in a field in which the barrister practises or professes to practise. You’ve specialised in family law …’

She laughed. ‘So no pressure then, Dad?’

‘Absolutely none! I would never suggest you take it on if I thought this brief was outside your skill or capacity. I’ll work with you preparing the arguments and opinions. We can’t let her down on this.’

‘I’d hate to do that.’

‘You won’t. You’ve been trained to be independent and objective.’ He smiled at her. ‘I have every faith in you.’

Anne was upset that Dee was in this position at all: needing this representation because she’d discovered her husband had another wife – one he had married in America – one he had neglected to tell anyone about. No one had ever suspected that anything had changed. When the news about Melody Maddock had broken they had all been shocked.

‘Having an affair would have been despicable enough, but getting married to the woman and keeping the duplicity up is incredible. How come none of us never noticed anything?’ Maurice had asked his wife on several occasions since the disclosure.

‘How Charlie thought he’d never be found out is beyond me. He’s not a stupid man. Did he never wonder what he’d do when it came out, as it was bound to, or wonder what it would do to Dee?’ Sheila had asked.

‘I don’t think he was thinking at all.’

‘If he was it wasn’t with his brain. He’s destroyed Dee. She’s in bits.’

‘I know,’ he’d agreed.

The gossip columnists were having a great time rehashing the few facts that were in the public domain and rarely a weekend passed without a photo of Charlie and Melody appearing alongside another speculative storyline.

‘She’s exactly as I would have expected him to pick,’ Anne had said when the photos had begun featuring under headings like, ‘Decorator to the Stars Duped’ and ‘Melody’s Mistake Bagging a Bigamist’.

During the time they were preparing the case, several other revelations hit the papers about Charlie Lahiffe regarding alleged irregular business dealings. These purported that he had bribed a number of council officials to get approval for some regeneration projects in the inner city. Files pertaining to these accusations were being compiled for the Department of Public Prosecutions, but Maurice had refused to get embroiled in discussions about these.

‘You’ve already pushed the bonds of friendship too far, Charlie. You’re on your own on this one. Make sure you have plenty of funds available, legal ones. With your lifestyle you’ll not be getting any free legal aid and these cases, as you know too well, can drag on for years and time is money.’

‘I’ll probably lose everything in the bigamy case.’

‘I won’t discuss it, Charlie. You’re not a child. You knew your actions had consequences. Now they have to be faced.’

Anne escorted Dee in to court through the mob of cameramen and the assault of multicoloured microphones that were shoved in their faces.

Anne’s good friend, Alan Seavers from the Chronicle, stood a little apart from the mob. He caught her eye and gave her a wink. She didn’t acknowledge him. She couldn’t. They were on opposite sides of the fence now – he a court reporter, she the sometimes target of these reports. Professionally they behaved as decorum dictated. Personally he had always had a thing for her, a fact he never tried to hide, although he no longer actively pursued her, yet seeing him there warmed her and made her feel she had an ally in this hostile arena.

The jostling began again and someone shouted, ‘The other one is here.’

The cameras turned and reporters scattered to surround the car that had just pulled up at the kerb. Anne had to resist looking back to catch a glimpse of this woman. Instead she ushered Dee inside to get seated.

A few minutes later Melody Maddock arrived, not togged out in the flamboyant colours Anne had expected from those she had seen her wear in the photos, but dressed demurely in black. Her skirt stopped just above her knees. A narrow orange scarf that matched an oversized handbag with an unmissable logo and chunky chain shoulder strap broke the severity of her appearance. She took the seat indicated by her counsel, nodding in acknowledgment.

‘So that’s what I was up against,’ Dee whispered. ‘She’s so thin.’

‘No, she’s not,’ Paula answered, ‘she’s like a knitting needle with ginormous breasts. I’m surprised she doesn’t topple over. She didn’t get those from Mother Nature, or from eating maple-syrup pancakes.’

‘Paula, you’re a tonic,’ said Dee.

‘Well, it’s true, isn’t it? Enhanced and enlarged.’ She laughed. ‘Makes my thirty-four Cs look stunted.’

Before Dee could reply a murmur went around the courtroom as Charlie Lahiffe made his entrance, arms swinging, walking briskly in, smiling at everyone, two solicitors flanking him. Daniel Hassett, who was a good head above this trio, followed a few seconds later, his gown billowing behind him as he walked up to the front of the courtroom, bowing in recognition, almost imperceptibly, towards Anne. Anne smiled back. She was nervous, extremely nervous, but she knew from her training and experience that she couldn’t show it, to either her client or to their opposition. She took a deep breath before the door opened at one side and the judge entered. She had to keep her head, be ready to counter all his arguments with facts and clarity.

‘I have to admire her composure,’ Dee said, after that first morning session. ‘Melody never let her gaze wander in our direction, even for a split second. It took me all my willpower to stop watching her. I feel a bit sorry for her. There she is – sitting on her own – I don’t think she’s ever been in Ireland before. At least I have my friends here to support me.’

‘Maybe she doesn’t have many, or maybe she wanted to be on her own to avoid further ridicule. Can you imagine how foolish and gullible he’s made her feel,’ said Anne.

She watched Dee cringe as the court reporters made notes on what they perceived to be the juicy bits of the trial. She was disgusted with Charlie’s attitude. Anyone looking at him could be forgiven for thinking he was playing a role on stage instead of being tried for making suckers of two women who had been unfortunate enough to fall in love with him. Charlie, or CP, as it transpired he was known to his other wife, sat brazenly there, immaculately turned out in his perfectly tailored suit and silk tie, avoiding eye contact throughout with both Mrs Lahiffes. They all knew that later on these details and facts would be given their own spin to suit the publications present, and they were all there, the nationals, the provincials and the broadcast media.

‘Your friend from the Chronicle never stops scribbling,’ Paula remarked as they gathered their papers at the end of the first day’s proceedings. ‘I think he must be writing a thriller. Any time I look in his direction he’s scribbling away.’

‘Alan’s not writing. He’s drawing. He does those artist’s impressions you see sometimes on the news during trials.’

‘I never knew that.’

‘He doesn’t advertise the fact – they’re never signed anyway. He writes poetry too.’

‘A man of many parts. How did you find that out?’

‘We go back a bit. He dated one of my friends through college. He was the darling of the debating society. Even then he used to draw the speakers as they argued. He’s very talented.’

The verdict was delivered just in time to make the main evening-news bulletins.

‘You strike me as being an intelligent man, Mr Lahiffe,’ the judge announced in a voice full of authority. ‘If you had put your cunning to better use you could have walked away from this courtroom with a tidy divorce settlement, which the law in its infinite wisdom would have forced me to make to you, although it would have been against my better judgment. Instead you have duped these women, playing on and with their emotions, marrying two at the same time. Greed is never a nice trait, be it in a child or a grown-up. Neither is deceit. Together they are despicable. Bigamy, however, is a criminal offence and as such demands punishment by law. Legal precedent in this country permits me to give a custodial sentence for this offence of up to seven years.’

Charlie’s mask slipped and he looked over at Dee. Anne could see the panic in his eyes, his knuckles white as he grasped the wooden barrier between him and the court. She heard Dee gasp.

‘However, I’m recommending that this will be reviewed at a later stage, as I am reliably informed that there are further proceedings in train against you for charges of embezzlement and corruption. You may not leave this jurisdiction in the interim and will surrender your passport. You will also relinquish any hold on the title of the family homes, cars and possessions. You may visit the Dublin home, with Mrs Dee Lahiffe’s solicitor present, to collect your personal belongings, and after that you are barred from visiting or making personal contact with her. I am also granting her a legal separation from you to facilitate divorce proceedings when the correct amount of time has elapsed. Any other joint possessions shall be disposed of as she so wishes.’

The reporters were scribbling furiously.

‘Miss Maddock,’ he continued, looking at Melody, ‘I know you did not choose to take proceedings in this country, but I wish you well in your endeavours when you do. I do hope this experience does not colour your opinion of the Irish male. There are decent ones among us. Unfortunately you didn’t meet one.’

Someone in the gallery applauded. The judge looked up as though to admonish them and seemed to decide against it. Instead he stood up and left the bench. They could hear the noise outside escalate when the doors opened and the reporters had their story. As Charlie was being ushered out he mouthed at Dee and Anne, ‘I’m sorry, really I am.’

‘The car won’t be outside for a few minutes,’ Paula told them. ‘Wait a bit and then we’ll make a run for it.’

As the seats emptied Daniel Hassett came over then and extended his hand to Anne. ‘Well done, that’s a big one to put on the portfolio.’ Surprised, she muttered her thanks and he went to walk away. He turned back and said, ‘It’s a bit of a scramble out there, ladies, stick together and follow me.’

He divided the reporters and camera people like Moses separating the sea. Together the women pushed through the collection of microphones that were thrust in their faces, refusing to say anything. Anne saw Alan and he gave her the thumbs up and a wink. She smiled back and realised how tense she had been. She could feel her face relax as cameras flashed. Melody Maddock was enjoying her moment in the limelight and took the media focus away from them temporarily as she answered their questions. They took the opportunity and made their getaway.

As they sat in the evening traffic on the quays Anne asked Dee how she was feeling about the judge’s decision.

‘I don’t know how I feel – parts of me are elated, sad, mad, and all at the same time. I can’t believe it’s ended like this. It’s so final and yet it’s not. I don’t know what to think, what to do next. And I’m starving. Let’s go somewhere quiet where we can talk.’

‘I’m glad to hear that. You’ve eaten like a bird all week.’ Anne took her phone out to ring a restaurant and book a table. There was a message from her mother: ‘Come back here for dinner – I won’t take no for an answer.’

She showed it to Dee who laughed. ‘Good old Sheila.’

‘Let me out and I’ll head home,’ Paula said.

‘You’ll do no such thing – you’re practically one of the family and I know they’d never forgive me if I let you off like that.’

‘Of course you have mixed feelings about the outcome,’ Maurice Cullen told Dee as he poured drinks for them. ‘It’s a pyrrhic victory. Your life has just changed forever; that’ll take some adjustment.’

‘I know he hasn’t been around for the past while but now that it’s official I feel alone, really alone, for the first time. The house seems far too big. Maybe I should sell it.’

‘You’ll do no such thing, Dee. I won’t let you rush into anything like that,’ her friend said, putting the last-minute touches to the meal.

‘Sheila’s right – no hasty decisions,’ Maurice said, ‘and you know we are always here for you.’

‘I’d never have got through all this without you all, but you know that.’ She raised her glass to toast them. ‘And I want to see all those cuttings you have.’

‘There’s nothing to be achieved by that,’ Sheila told her.

‘Maybe there is and maybe there isn’t, but I want to know what Miss Maddock knew about his – our – life, and what he told her to win her over.’

‘There’s no need. She’s telling it on the evening news,’ Anne said coming in from the kitchen, then turning on the television in the corner.

‘Of course I’ll pursue him in the American courts. No one makes a fool of Melody Maddock, and I’ll make sure Charlie Lahiffe will pay for trying to. I was oblivious of his deception. Imagine how I felt when I came across a photo of him with his wife that someone had posted on Facebook. And the wife wasn’t me! He couldn’t deny it. It was taken at an Irish racetrack, and the date was on a poster behind them.’ She paused to listen to the next question. ‘Yes, he did buy me these diamonds.’ She waved her manicured fingers in front of the camera. ‘And he’s not getting them back either.’

Another reporter jumped in.

‘No. Of course I don’t want him back,’ she answered. ‘I wouldn’t take him even if he came crawling. He’s humiliated me both personally and professionally.’

Dee sighed. ‘I know he’s a bastard for doing what he did, but he was my bastard and I loved him. It’s not easy to turn my emotions off to order. I actually felt sorry for him when he said he was sorry. He looked so lost and vulnerable. Yet sorry is such a little word for such a big hurt, isn’t it?’

They all agreed.

The next morning the papers were full of the judgment. The tabloid journalists were enjoying their moment. They had been gagged for months, ever since the story broke, restricted by snippets already in the public domain, afraid to say anything fresh, or to report all they already knew, for fear of prejudicing the case. Photos of the two wives were splashed across the front pages.

The headlines shouted:

‘Victory for wife number one and two.’

‘One man one wife’

‘When one just isn’t enough.’

‘Two into one won’t go.’

Paula read the beginning of Alan Seavers’ pi. . .