Chapter 6
Madeleine said goodnight to her daughters and as soon as they had gone to bed, she headed into the guest room, relieved that she could escape the tirade of abuse that had landed on her since she had arrived.
They were upset, she understood that, but she had tried her best to get there in time to say goodbye to Elizabeth.
She stepped inside the bedroom – the room she always slept in whenever she stayed with Elizabeth.
She looked around at the simple bed frame and the chest of drawers that stood beneath the window.
She noticed that the air smelled musty, and she knew it was a long time since anyone had last slept in this room.
Whenever Madeleine had stayed here over the years, Elizabeth had gone to great lengths to make the room welcoming and homely.
She would open the windows to let in fresh air, she would dress the bed in newly laundered and pressed linen, and stick a hot water bottle between the sheets to take away the chill.
Madeleine noticed a layer of dust upon the mantlepiece and a dried-out sprig of lavender hanging over the bed.
Elizabeth loved to scent her rooms with fresh flowers from her garden.
She had always taken great pride in her home, but there were little telltale signs that she had grown too ill over the past few months to keep on top of the housework.
Now that she was finally alone, she could try and sort out the mess that was Howard O’Brien’s book launch without fear of incurring her daughters’ wrath.
Madeleine took out her phone and sank wearily onto the bed as she began rereading her emails, feeling increasingly overwhelmed.
Each message she read was more frantic than the last. She placed the phone face down on the bedspread beside her and groaned.
Her head throbbed and her shoulders ached with stress.
What was she going to do now? She took her phone in her hands once more and, although it was late, she began making calls.
As expected, nobody picked up. She started firing off emails with instructions for her team to get on to the customs office once more and try everything to get the books released in the morning, but the internet was so bad, she wasn’t even sure if they had been sent.
She really needed to travel to Dublin to sort this out herself, but her daughters didn’t seem to understand what a big deal this was for her.
They were grieving Elizabeth, she reasoned, and she knew that grief brought all kinds of emotions to the surface.
Anxiety was tying a knot around her chest. Time was ticking and she felt a growing sense of dread about the disaster that was about to take place.
If she didn’t fix it, the whole thing would be a flop – and as the marketing director for her company, she would be held responsible.
She had a half-baked idea to call the taxi company in Ballymcconnell that had brought her here and ask if Séamus would take her back to Dublin.
She knew a fare like that would cost a pretty penny, but that didn’t matter; she would pay anything to be able to sort this out ahead of Howard O’Brien’s book launch.
Her reputation was on the line. She decided that she would get up in the morning and try to reason with her daughters again; hopefully they would be more understanding of her plight.
They were both exhausted, and she hoped that after a good night’s sleep they would be more rational.
She felt calmer and more in control as she pulled back the bedspread, shivering as she climbed between the chilly sheets. She would sort this. That was why she was so successful: because she always rose to the challenge. Madeleine Brennan would fix this.