Queen of Harte's Page 14

  ‘I had to hear you’re dying from your wife. Mia, who fucking hates me, had more consideration for how this all might make me feel than you. You’d tell her you need a transplant but you wouldn’t tell me. I asked you how sick you were and you still didn’t tell me.’

  ‘Don’t try to play mind games here, Eva. You won’t win. If Mia gave you this,’ Julian waved the business card in the air, ‘then you’ve either already spoken to Doctor Simmons about my condition, or you didn’t have to because you already knew the answer to your own question. It was a waste of your breath and my time.’

  ‘I asked you because I wanted to give you a chance to tell me yourself. I didn’t want to have to drag it out of you.’

  ‘Like you’re going to right now.’

  ‘You’re leaving me no choice. You weren’t going to tell me, were you?’

  ‘Possibly not.’

  ‘Jesus, Julian. Jesus. But you told her. Was that who you were talking to on the phone? Mia? Are you making plans for what will happen to Daniel if you die? Is that why you had to tell her how sick you are?’

  ‘The hospital told her, actually. You know, being my wife and all that.’

  ‘Ex-wife,’ Eva spat.

  Julian looked back at Eva. ‘You read the annulment papers.’

  ‘Yes.’

  Eva knew her one-word answer pissed him off. She’d come to learn his jaw twitched to the left for the briefest of seconds when she was piquing him.

  ‘I answer the questions you ask, Evangeline. You asked about Mia, I’ve shown you the annulment details. You didn’t ask if I was dying.’

  ‘What?’ Eva threw her hands to the side. ‘That doesn’t even make sense. Am I supposed to start every conversation with, ‘Hello, Julian. Are you dying today?’ You’re not playing fair.’

  ‘Who’s playing? Really Eva, this obsession with games you have is getting out of hand.’

  If that was Julian’s idea of a joke, Eva didn’t appreciate it, and she threw him a look that said as much.

  ‘Right now, I don’t care if you were or are married to half of Ignite Tech. I don’t even care that you hid being married from me, for fuck-knows-why. Probably one of your power trip reasons.’ Eva swallowed hard and tried to calm down.

  That was a blatant lie. She was doing the one thing she accused Julian of and it felt disgusting to be such a hypocrite. And she knew before the words even finished coming out of her mouth that he’d see straight through her thinly veiled bullshit. Of course, she cared. She cared deeply about his past with Mia. But it paled in comparison to how much she cared about losing him. She had cleared her throat before she continued. ‘I just care that you’re really ill and you’re giving up the fight. What the hell?’

  ‘Eva, you’re out of line,’ Julian snarled.

  ‘Oh, Julian. Don’t you dare talk to me about lines. You’ve been out of line since the day I walked into your office and you damn well know it.’

  Julian didn’t reply. Eva knew she was getting to him. She intended to push this as far as she had to.

  The car pulled off the main road and came to a stop on the hard shoulder. Eva opened the door and got out. Julian slid across the backseat and leaned out the door. ‘Eva, get back in. You’re being ridiculous.’

  ‘I need some fresh air.’

  ‘Well, the hard shoulder isn’t the place to get it. Get back in the car. What you’re doing is stupid and dangerous.’

  ‘No. What you’re doing is stupid and dangerous. Are you going to get the treatment?’

  ‘Dialysis?’

  ‘Yes. To start. And then the transplant. You’re going to die if you don’t.’

  ‘I do know that. But thank you for the fine diagnosis, Doctor Andrews.’

  ‘And you have the nerve to call me stupid.’ Eva was shouting. Her arms were waving frantically in the air, and to any passers-by, she must have looked like she was completely out of her mind. She was. She was worried to the point of losing control, and she didn’t give a shit if she flapped about like a chicken with a firecracker up its ass.

  ‘Maybe I will go back to America, after all,’ she said, turning around and bending down so she was looking into the backseat of the car. Glaring at Julian.

  ‘Good. Now you’re making sense.’

  ‘Because it’s easier to get my hands on a gun there.’

  Julian was out of the car and standing beside her before she could draw her breath. ‘Don’t you dare say shit like that.’

  His hands were firm on her shoulders. He wasn’t hurting her, but he was cementing her to the spot. She couldn’t get back in the car now even if she wanted to.

  ‘Why? It’s not like you’re going to be here to stop me. If you let yourself die for no fucking reason, NO FUCKING REASON, JULIAN, then you might as well take that gun, jam it against my head and pull the trigger. Because my life would be over, too.’

  ‘You wouldn’t do it,’ Julian said, his whole face pinched in temper.

  Julian’s grip on her relaxed and she pulled away from him. She slammed the door of the car shut and pounded her fist against the window, so hard she thought the glass might break. ‘Commit suicide? No. You’re right. I wouldn’t do it. And do you know why? Because I’m not FUCKING INSANE. I want to live. I’m young and I want to experience lots more shit. Why don’t you? What the fuck is your problem, Julian? Why do you always have to be so alone in every decision you make?’

  Julian’s shoulders rounded and his face softened. Eva was expecting him to be furious, but he wasn’t. He was so far the opposite; he looked like he might cry.

  ‘My father was only a little older than I am now when he died. He wanted to experience life. He was a good man. A great man. He fucking deserved to live, Eva. My family didn’t deserve what happened to them.’

  ‘I know, Julian. I know it sucks. But what you’re doing now has nothing to do with the past.’

  ‘It has everything to do with it,’ Julian shouted.

  His anger and bitterness flashed in his dark brown eyes like smouldering embers. But Eva wasn’t going to back down. She needed him raw and out of control.

  ‘I shouldn’t have gotten to live when they didn’t. Why me? Why did I get a second chance at life when they all died? It’s not fair.’

  Eva’s frustrations fizzled completely and all she wanted to do was wrap her arms around Julian, there on the side of the road, and kiss him better. She could hear eight-year-old Julian coming through. His fears, his heartbreak, his uncertainty.

  ‘It’s not fair. It’s so not fair. But you refusing treatment won’t bring them back, Julian. They’re gone and you’re still here.’

  ‘Maybe I shouldn’t be. Karma is a bitch, Eva. It catches everyone in the end.’

  ‘Karma? Julian what have you ever done to deserve this?’

  ‘My whole family is dead because of me.’

  Eva’s heart burned, like the fire Julian was talking about was literally ripping through her chest. Julian wasn’t just carrying twenty years of missing his family under his skin. He was burdening twenty years of guilt. But she didn’t know if it was guilt that he couldn’t save his family or guilt that he was responsible. Christ. Either pain was unimaginable.

  ‘Julian, why do you hate the Da Lucas so much?’ Eva said gently. ‘Tell me. Please. I need to hear you say it.’

  ‘How could I not. Look at what they did to your family.’

  Do you know what they did to yours? Eva thought. Her mind was racing. So many realisations and answers were streaming into her brain like her head had just received one massive download and she had to make room and file all of the information before the system crashed.

  Eva wasn’t sure if Julian would remember meeting her as a child in her home in New Jersey, and if he did, maybe he wouldn’t want to admit it. If he knew she’d unscrambled the reasons behind all his games, it would change everything. It would make them equals. She deserved that, but Eva understood now that Julian deserved that even more. She took a deep breath and
asked a hard question. ‘How old was I when we first met?’

  Julian’s nostrils flared and his pain etched into his forehead in angry lines. ‘Eva, get back in the car. I’m warning you.’

  Eva shook her head. ‘How old, Julian?’

  ‘You’re three and half years younger than me, Eva. Work it out.’

  ‘So you’re admitting that we did meet as kids. You remember my dad bringing you to New Jersey,’ Eva asked forcing herself to stay calm.

  ‘Yes. And you know that or you wouldn’t be asking this bullshit. Did your mother tell you? I thought she might.’

  ‘Yes. And I can only apologise for what she did.’

  ‘She put her family first, Eva. She deserves to be commended. There is nothing to apologise for.’

  ‘She turned you away. She forced you to go to that horrible orphanage that you hated so much.’

  ‘She had no choice. Your family hadn’t the price of their supper. They couldn’t have an extra mouth to feed. Your father’s heart was bigger than his head. He wasn’t thinking sensibly. If anyone is owed an apology, it’s Samantha. I burned down the house, Eva. I caused it all. The Da Lucas money went up in flames and it was all my fault.’

  Eva’s hands shook as her fingers raced to trace the lines of Julian’s contorted face. So much pain was written in his eyes. It was as crippling as it was misguided. ‘Oh God, Julian. No. No, no, no. No, baby. How can you think that?’

  Julian caught Eva’s wrists, pulled her hands away from his face, and dropped them down to her sides. ‘Don’t. I don’t need your sympathy, Eva. I don’t deserve it.’

  ‘Julian, it wasn’t Da Luca’s money. My father had won it fair and square.’

  Julian shook his head. ‘Eva, it was gambling debts. Your father was an addict.’

  Eva reached into her pocket and pulled out Nathan’s voice recorder. She stretched out her arm and opened her hand. The little black box sat on her palm. ‘Take it.’

  Julian’s eyes pinched.

  ‘Please, Julian. Trust me. You want to take this.’

  ‘Did your reporter friend give you that?’ Julian asked as if the sentence was all one word.

  Eva couldn’t miss the sourness in Julian’s tone. She closed her hand around the box, worried that Julian would strike out and knock it to the ground. She couldn’t blame Julian for his distaste of Nathan anymore. Nathan wasn’t particular in her good books, either. But maybe the information recorded on the device could save Julian. Really save him. Save him after more than twenty years.

  Julian took the box from Eva, looking less than impressed. Eva sat back in the car and slid across the seat to make room for Julian to follow.

  ‘Sorry about that, Anthony,’ Eva said surprisingly composed – considering. ‘If you could just drop me at my hotel, Anthony. I’d really appreciate that.’

  ‘Certainly, Miss Andrews. I hadn’t forgotten about your dress,’ Anthony assured.

  ‘No, Anthony. I think we will give dinner a miss tonight. I think Julian needs to go straight home.’

  ‘Evangeline,’ Julian said.

  Eva knew that, by the way that Julian sounded out her name, he was inquiring why in the hell she was giving his driver instructions.

  ‘Julian, I know you. And you are going to want to be alone when you listen to that tape.’

  Julian held up the voice recorder and spun it around between his fingers. ‘What exactly is on this?’

  ‘Just listen to it. Okay. Promise me?’

  Julian didn’t reply.

  ‘I’m just a phone call away when you do.’

  Chapter 24

  Julian stood outside the worse-for-wear blue front door and took a deep breath. Too deep. The cold night air bit into his lungs with an icy sting. He’d waited a generous ten minutes after dropping Eva back at her hotel before he asked Anthony to turn the car around and drive back to Dun Laoghaire. It had been a spur-of-the-moment decision. Julian didn’t do spur of the moment, and it disturbed him. But he knew the only place he wanted to hear what was on the tape was back in the familiarity of his childhood home. He could guess what he was going to hear, and it set his heart racing with a mix of anticipation and confusion.

  He lined his shoulder up with the front door and knocked his full body weight on the door. It shook on its hinges, but it didn’t move. Julian’s whole upper body ached. His health was failing. He knew it. Despite how much he tried to ignore the strengthening signs, time was running out. A couple of weeks ago, he was bench pressing one hundred in the gym every morning before work; he would have made short work of charging through the door. But now, he had the failing strength of an old man.

  Julian felt a hand on his shoulder, and he turned around to find Anthony behind him, smiling.

  ‘I think you’ll have better luck with this,’ Anthony said, holding up a crowbar.

  ‘Where in the hell did you get that?’

  Anthony tossed his head towards the garden shed. ‘Will I give it a go, Mr. Harte? You don’t want to ruin your suit.’

  Julian nodded slowly. Anthony’s discretion was as commendable as it was appreciated. ‘Thank you, Anthony, but I think we both know I have bigger concerns than scuffing my suit.’

  ‘Does Miss Andrews know you’re poorly?’ Anthony asked gently.

  ‘Yes. Do you?’

  Anthony slipped the crowbar between the door and its frame and began forcing a gap between the two. He didn’t look at Julian as he spoke. ‘I know you’re more shook than you’d like anyone to know. You haven’t asked me to drive you to the hospital at any stage. So either there is nothing they can do or you’re being a stubborn bastard.’

  Anthony grunted as he pressed all his weight against the crowbar and with a loud snap, the lock broke and the door was free. He turned around to look at Julian. ‘And I apologise in advance if this is out of line, Mr. Harte. But I know you, and that leaves me very certain the problem is the latter.’

  ‘You do know me,’ Julian said, leaving it at that.

  ‘Have you told, Anne?’ Anthony asked.

  Julian’s expression softened. ‘No. And I’d appreciate if you didn’t say anything.’

  Julian knew by Anthony’s sudden change in body language that he considered himself warned.

  ‘She loves you like a mother loves a son,’ Anthony added.

  ‘Exactly. And that’s why I don’t need her freaking out with worry. I’ll speak to her when the time is right.’

  ‘And when might that be? To organise your funeral.’

  ‘Anthony don’t,’ Julian warned. ‘I’ve had this from Mia and Eva already. I don’t need it from you.’

  ‘Everyone is worried about you.’

  ‘An-thony,’ Julian scowled.

  ‘Mr. Harte.’ Anthony walked back towards the car obediently.

  ‘I won’t be long,’ Julian called after Anthony.

  ‘Take all the time you need. I’ll wait in the car.’

  Julian’s hand shook as he pressed his palm flat against the door and pushed gently. The door creaked and grunted, objecting to moving after all these years. Julian pushed a little harder and the door gave in, leaving him peering into the house before he had time to draw a breath.

  His feet had stepped into the hall before his head did, and it took his mind quite a while to catch up with his body as he walked deeper into the room. A thick layer of black dust covered everything. The ground, the walls, the sideboard and mirror, even the ceiling had a coating. Julian pulled the sleeve of his suit jacket over his hand and used it to wipe the mirror clean. He stepped in front of the mirror and looked. It was too dark to see much. Light probably wouldn’t have made much difference because as soon as he reached the familiar spot standing in front of the mirror, Julian closed his eyes. He could see a reflection clearly in his mind. As clear as if he really was looking into that old mirror. It was of an eight-year-old him getting ready for school. His mother had just brushed his messy chestnut hair that always stood up like an antenna in the mornings.
She’d left the brush out of her hand on top of the sideboard and turned back to him. She kissed him on the top of the head, told him that she loved him, and to be careful on the winding road as he walked to school. He could see the pride in her eyes, and he knew how much she loved him. That was the last time his mother would ever help him get ready for school. The fire started less than twelve hours later.

  Julian kicked some of the soot away with the side of his shoe and revealed a patch of the black and white checked tiles underneath. He gasped remembering how the hall floor always reminded him of a draughts board and how he had tried and failed to play a couple of times with stones he’d dragged in from the garden. He took his phone out of his pocket and tapped into the torch app. It wasn’t as bright as he’d like it to be, but it was light enough to make sure he wouldn’t break his neck walking into something. Sticky cobwebs draped from one wall to another like elaborate Halloween decorations and the smell of twenty-three years without light or fresh air stagnated all around.

  Julian walked deeper into the old house towards the back where the kitchen was. Everything was exactly as he’d remembered it. Clear away the soot and dirt, and it was just like coming downstairs on a Sunday morning to delicious scones or pancakes. But the smell of his mother’s home baking that was synonymous with the kitchen was replaced now with the stench of a filthy ashtray.

  Julian rushed back into the hall, slamming the kitchen door behind him and the walls around him shook and coughed up a cloud of sooty ash. His heart told him not to, but his stubborn head cast his eyes to where the stairs once were. The only remains of the solid pine staircase were a few charred timbers scattered on the ground. Julian’s hands rushed to cover his ears as the sound of his mother’s screaming rang in his head as clear as if she was calling to him now. His eyes slammed shut and the memories rushing through his brain paralysed him.

  ‘Red, orange, red…red…’

  He remembered the flames swirling on the landing. She’d shouted at him to get out as she rushed upstairs straight into the blaze trying to make her way to the baby’s room.