The unreality of it all began to sink in. The police were here to search her house. To talk to her husband. They must have got it wrong, but it was still happening, like a movie when the wrong people were targeted.
Shock made her want to sit down, but she had to stay strong. Poppy was upstairs with her girlfriends, Brenda was in the kitchen making tea and there were three hundred people downstairs drinking cocktails and nibbling blackened cod, tiny exquisite burgers, sashimi.
A door opened and Brenda marched through. Callie felt a sigh of relief. Brenda would sort it out. Tell the police that Jason Reynolds could not be the person they were looking for.
‘What is it?’ she said, looking at Callie then looking at the policemen who were leaving the hall speedily.
‘You are?’
‘Brenda Lyons, Mrs Reynolds’ friend and housekeeper.’ She put an arm around Callie. ‘And you?’
‘Detective Superintendent John Hughes, GBFI, Garda Bureau of Fraud Investigation.’ He handed out a card to Callie.
‘Right,’ said Brenda with a sigh.
Callie didn’t have time to think why Brenda wasn’t in the slightest bit surprised.
‘There are five teenage girls upstairs,’ Brenda said.
‘I’ll go up,’ said the female officer in uniform.
‘I think I need to come, as does Mrs Reynolds. We can’t upset the girls. But first . . .’ She looked back at the detective superintendent. ‘What’s the plan?’ she said as if they were discussing something quite normal instead of a team of police detectives coming into Callie’s house late at night at her actual fiftieth birthday party.
Callie stared at her old friend in horror.
‘We are here to arrest Jason Reynolds and search the house,’ said the officer calmly and this time Callie felt her knees go totally and everything went hazy and then blank.
When she woke up, she was sitting on one of the squashy chairs in the kitchen.
‘Lucky they caught you,’ said Brenda, waving a glass of brandy in front of Callie’s nose.
‘Was that a dream, did that really happen?’ said Callie.
‘No dream,’ said Brenda bitterly. ‘All true. At this exact moment, there are police officers getting everyone out of your house, carefully taking every computer and every bit of paper with them and they’re searching the whole place.’
‘Oh God,’ said Callie. ‘No,’ she said, pushing the brandy away. ‘You know I don’t like spirits.’
‘I know you don’t like spirits, but drink this because you are going to need it.’
Brenda held the brandy glass up to Callie’s mouth and made her drink it, like Callie used to make Poppy drink things out of a beaker cup when Poppy was a baby.
Her baby.
‘Where’s Poppy?’ she said in alarm.
‘It’s fine for the moment, I got one of the waitresses to go up there and the female Garda is there too. I’ve told her there’s something strange going on but the police are here to fix it and you’re sorting it out, and will be up in a minute. The men are not going near her room until you are ready to be there and supervise, but to be honest I’d say get out of here pronto, both of you. We need to get you and Poppy somewhere safe before the story hits the media.’ Brenda appeared to be thinking about it. ‘I don’t even know if you can bring your clothes or what,’ she added in a very matter-of-fact tone. ‘They’re not the Criminal Assets Bureau, so they can’t impound it all or anything, but when the Fraud Squad come, they’re going to be looking at every asset in terms of legal redress.’
‘What story? This is a mistake, surely? Jason will sue.’
Brenda patted her hand tenderly.
‘Callie, the Fraud Squad don’t make mistakes.’
‘But us? Jason’s a businessman.’
‘Drink,’ was all Brenda would say.
Callie shuddered as she finished the rest of the brandy. She hated all strong spirits.
‘What do we do now?’ she said, making herself come back into the world again.
Everything still felt very unreal. She wanted another Xanax, a whole one, and to go to bed and find out this was all a dream.
‘You prepare yourself for the next shock,’ said Brenda, patting her hand.
‘I’m not preparing for any shocks until I have Jason beside me and I find out what the hell is going on,’ said Callie, as the alcohol hit her system, putting fire in the hold. ‘The embarrassment,’ she went on.
The people at the party knew all the gossip columnists in the country. Everyone would be writing about this. Jason would go mental. ‘Where is Jason? I hope he’s trying to turn the police away.’
Brenda perched on the edge of the armchair.
‘That’s what you needed the brandy for,’ she said.
Callie stared up at her.
‘They can’t find Jason.’
‘What?’
‘I really hate to be the one to tell you, lovie, but he’s done a runner.’
Callie felt the world shift around her.
The words were slow coming out: ‘He can’t have gone. Why would he go?’
The look Brenda gave her was pitying and Callie flinched under it.
‘The most likely excuse is that he’s run because he’s guilty of whatever they are accusing him,’ Brenda said. ‘Which is why you and Poppy need to get out of here now with whatever you can. I don’t know what Jason was doing, but the game is up, Callie, and you need to be out of it.’
‘What do you mean what he was doing?’ said Callie fiercely.
‘For heaven’s sake, Callie, you must have figured it out now. I always had my suspicions. Nobody else was making money during the recession except your husband. Nobody else bounced back so quickly. Did you not find that weird?’
‘No!’
‘Come on,’ said Brenda. ‘You’re a clever woman. I thought you knew his business wasn’t entirely kosher. We can talk about this another time, but now, we need to get those girls home, get you and Poppy out of the house and . . .’ Brenda stopped for a minute. ‘Could we take the Range Rover? It might be confiscated. Whose name is it in? Probably the company’s, so you can’t take it. Right, we need taxis to get the girls home or, better still, I’ll ring their parents.’
Callie watched, mute, as Brenda thought out loud, running through the various permutations and combinations of keeping her daughter out of this crisis.