Beneath an Irish Sky (Choc Lit) (15 page)

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Authors: Isabella Connor

Tags: #romance, #fiction, #Irish traveller, #contemporary

BOOK: Beneath an Irish Sky (Choc Lit)
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This was a man declaring feelings on the day of his wife’s funeral. A desire to reaffirm life in the face of death. She had to be careful. No emotion could be trusted here.

‘What about your parents?’

He frowned. ‘What about them?’

‘They didn’t exactly welcome Annie, you said. Didn’t come to the wedding, didn’t even come to the funeral today. They might think your getting involved with another Irish woman is a mistake.’

‘I don’t think Annie being Irish was the problem. It was because she was a Traveller. You’d be far more respectable in their eyes.’ Jack made a dismissive gesture. ‘Anyway, I don’t care what they think. I’m a grown man. I can do what I like.’

He sounded more like a defiant teenager than an adult, but he’d likely blow up if she said that. ‘I don’t want to come between you and your family, Jack. I know my family’s very important to me. I couldn’t be without them.’

Jack shifted in his chair, rubbed his hand along the back of his neck. Emer waited, hoping he’d give what she said careful consideration.

‘When I was young, Emer,’ he said, ‘my parents were always telling me to behave appropriately. To do the things they considered best. They had my whole future mapped out for me while I was still at school.’

He drew on his cigar and watched the smoke rising into the night air. ‘At university, I rebelled. Lived away from home. Shared a cramped flat in Manchester with friends I chose on my own. Raised hell at weekends on my motorbike. Got involved in all kinds of student protests and was even arrested on one. That was reported in Baronsmere’s local paper. My mother turned up at the flat to chew me out. I shut the door in her face and we didn’t speak for nearly a year.’

It was hard to reconcile the conventional Jack she knew with the young rebel he was describing. ‘What changed all that?’ she asked.

Jack looked out toward the lake as if he could see the past there. ‘The summer before I graduated, I got a really bad dose of glandular fever. I came home to Edenbridge, the family estate, to get better. I met Caroline again, a girl I’d known since childhood but suddenly all grown up. And so beautiful. I fell in love – hard and fast. The first time for me. I proposed out there by the lake at summer’s end. Before I knew it, we were married, and had a baby on the way. Once I graduated, I started working in the family firm. One summer – and my whole life changed.’

‘Do you regret it?’

Jack switched his focus back to her. ‘God, no! I loved Caro and I wanted to make her happy. But Baronsmere was stifling me then. The gossip, the snobbery, the closed minds. I thought about moving us all to London but Caro begged me not to. And then … she died of an asthma attack.’

‘That must have been terrible for you.’ Jack had suffered two big losses in his life – Caroline and Annie. It was a wonder the man had the courage left to love again at all. He was silent for a while and she could see in his eyes the pain the memories brought. ‘Jack, you don’t have to tell me about Annie, you know. Not today.’

‘It’s okay,’ he said. ‘I’ve been thinking about her all day anyway.’ He gulped down some brandy. ‘Being with Annie reminded me of the freedom I’d had in those university days. She was open and honest and didn’t care about doing the conventional things. She brought me back to life. You know, when we were together, I was thinking again about leaving Baronsmere. Going down south, setting up in business for myself. I’d talked to Annie about it – she was supportive. My father was opposed … of course …’

‘And then Annie left.’

‘And then Annie left.’ He repeated her words and she heard the disbelief in them. ‘All the fight went out of me. I stayed here, raised Matt, and never rocked the boat again.’

Emer sat there, absorbing everything she’d told him, trying to see it through a counsellor’s eyes. There was one nagging doubt. ‘Jack – I’m Irish and I’m not from your social class. Do you see me as your last chance to break free? As a way to rock the boat again?’

Jack’s face flushed, his jaw tightened, his eyes narrowed. ‘Is that what you think of me, Emer? That I’m a calculating, fucked-up son-of-a-bitch?’

‘Jack!’

‘A hopeless case that no self-respecting woman should touch with a barge pole …’

‘Stop right there!’ Emer interrupted, her voice sharp. ‘I never said that! You’re totally overreacting. So – you’ve got issues – who doesn’t? We’re all human.’

Jack said nothing, just stared moodily into his brandy.

‘Okay, let’s analyse me. Let’s take a good hard look at Emer Sullivan and her issues.’

‘No, don’t,’ Jack protested, looking up. ‘I’m just tired and half-cut. That’s when I usually fly off the handle.’

‘I insist.’ Emer leaned forward. ‘You were honest with me, and you deserve the same. So – people assume Emer’s got all her ducks in a row – she must have, she’s a counsellor, isn’t she? And, to an extent, it’s true. She tries not to play games with people, she shoots from the hip when necessary, and she’s a loyal friend.’

‘So far so good,’ commented Jack.

‘But there are times when Emer doesn’t know all the answers. When she fails to help a patient, her professional pride is hurt and she feels bad. Her job, you see, is ninety percent of her life so whenever that doesn’t go well, she’s left with nothing to fall back on. And that’s not healthy.’ She gulped down the last of her brandy. ‘Also, five years in a failed relationship has left her worried she doesn’t have the emotional energy necessary to invest in another. Even though she actually wants love more than anything.’

‘God,’ breathed Jack. ‘It’s like looking in a mirror.’

In many ways it was. Loss, grief, regret, avoidance – they had all those emotions in common. But wasn’t that a reason
not
to start a relationship? Wasn’t it better when partners had different weaknesses, could compensate for each other, make one whole healthy unit?

‘Is there more?’ asked Jack.

Emer bit her lip. The hard bit was coming up. ‘Emer came to Baronsmere to support Luke, but also because she’s attracted to Jack. And she’s nervous about that because it might turn her safe little world upside down.’ There. It was all out now. The patio table was littered with their emotional baggage. Not exactly romantic, but they’d covered more ground in one evening than some couples did in years. Would Jack feel the mystery had gone out of things, though? She pushed her glass across to Jack. ‘I think I need another brandy.’

‘Me too,’ he said, reaching for the bottle.

When the drinks were ready, they lifted their glasses to each other in a silent toast and drank in tandem. Jack shook his head, and Emer looked at him, quizzically. ‘Sorry,’ he told her. ‘I’m finding it hard to get past the best part of what you said.’

‘There was a best part?’

‘Yes. The part about Emer being attracted to Jack.’

She smiled. ‘I think the odds might be against us but I’d like to give it a try. Give us a try.’ Risky perhaps, but she’d not close the door on this relationship unless she really had to.

‘What about this weekend? Can we meet up?’

Now that was keen. It was hard to disappoint him but she’d have to. ‘I’m afraid I’m fully booked this weekend. And you have a new son to bond with.’

Jack turned his head slightly, but she saw him grimace at the mention of Luke. It seemed like he had no intention of getting closer to his son. Perhaps she could influence him and change that.

‘A fortnight on Saturday then?’ Jack persisted. ‘It’s my birthday. There’s a party for me. You could be my plus one. Wear your hair up again – blow everyone away. And you might get to meet my terrible parents – if they turn up after all that’s happened. Maybe they’ve disowned me by now. But if they come, you could do a quick counselling job on them.’

Emer laughed. ‘What an offer!’

‘What do you think – could you make it? Please say yes. Give me something to look forward to.’

Jack could be very persuasive. ‘I’ll be there.’ And where else did she have to go? A singles bar with some of her lost and lonely friends? This was a much better offer.

‘Great!’ Jack’s excitement made him look ten years younger.

The rain had started up again, and a sudden gust of wind dusted them with fine droplets. ‘Time to go in, I think,’ she said.

They stood up, and as she moved round the table he caught her up into his arms and kissed her before she knew what was happening. It felt like the most natural thing in the world. When they broke apart, Jack still held her close. ‘I don’t suppose you’d consider … a change of bedroom?’ he whispered.

It took all her strength to deny him. ‘It’s not the right time. There’s Luke to consider …’

‘Well, it’s not really his business, is it?’

‘Yes, it is, Jack,’ she insisted. ‘Luke’s my friend. I don’t want him to think I used his mother’s funeral as a way of getting closer to you.’

Jack rolled his eyes. ‘Luke has to learn the world doesn’t revolve round him.’

Emer shook her head. ‘No. He has to learn that sometimes it
does
. At the moment he has no such confidence in his own importance.’

‘I never have this kind of trouble with Matt.’

‘Matt’s had a security Luke’s never had. Cut him some slack. He buried his mother today.’

‘And I buried a wife.’

‘If this was a competition to see who’s suffering the most grief, Luke would win hands down! He spent nearly every day of his life with his mother. You may have loved her once – maybe you still do – but it’s different for him.’

Anger flashed across his face but it quickly changed into a wry smile. ‘I never get away with anything with you, do I?’

‘But you know it’s good for you.’

‘Hmm.’ He looked down at her like she was a naughty child.

She played along. ‘I’m worth it – honest.’

‘Oh, I know that,’ he said, and kissed her again.

The wind blew and the rain spattered against them, but Emer cared only about the intensity of Jack’s embrace.

Chapter Eleven

Early morning was Emer’s favourite time of day. She liked the hush and the muted quality of the dawn light. Back home she’d eat breakfast looking out at her scrap of garden, enjoying the solitude before the city came to life. Those snatched tranquil moments helped her cope with the raw emotions of her patients.

This morning, Emer kept to her routine, rising at six and showering. Everyone else was still asleep, so she pocketed an apple from the fruit bowl in the kitchen and went for a drive around early-morning Baronsmere. Yesterday’s clouds had gone, although a low-lying mist was still clearing. It gradually revealed the village, which had a cosy, intimate feel, reminding her of remote places tucked away in corners of Ireland. She parked in the public car park opposite the Foresters Arms and took a leisurely stroll around the streets.

The cottages were well-tended: fresh paint, tasteful curtains, rockeries beginning to flower. She read the signs on the small shops as she passed: Wilson & Sons, Grocers & Provisioners; The Misses Ellsworth’s Tea Shop, est. 1883; Buckley’s Saddler’s Shop, serving Baronsmere since 1786. Tradition was probably everything here, and the quality of your ancestry was important. Richard had boasted his mother-in-law’s family had been here since the Norman Conquest. No wonder Jack’s unconventional marriage to a Traveller had been considered a scandal.

Emer turned at the sound of clopping hooves. Kate, Luke’s new-found friend, was approaching on a feisty-looking horse. Barbour, hard hat, gleaming riding boots – this girl was no occasional rider. They’d met briefly at the funeral, and Emer had liked her immediately.

‘You’re an early bird,’ Kate said, stopping beside her.

‘So are you.’ Emer held out her hand for the horse to get her scent. ‘He’s a beauty. What’s his name?’

‘Petruchio.’

Emer smiled. ‘As in
Taming of the Shrew
?’

‘With a name like Kate, it seemed appropriate.’

Emer stroked the horse’s neck. He tossed his head, obviously impatient to be on his way.

‘How’s Luke?’ asked Kate.

‘I haven’t seen him yet, but I’m taking him to the Manchester United stadium. He’s a big fan. There’s a museum there and they do daily tours. My flight leaves at six, and I have to check in at four, so Maggie’s going to pick Luke up and bring him back here.’

‘I could bring him back.’ Kate’s face had lit up. ‘I’m at uni in Manchester, so I’m really close. My last lecture’s done by three.’

Who was Emer to stand in the way of a budding romance? ‘Okay – I’ll let Maggie know.’

‘Luke’s got my mobile number if there’s any problem.’

So, all sorted except … Kate seemed a nice girl, but surely more worldly than Luke. Emer wanted to tell her to be kind to him, to take good care of him, and never to hurt him because he’d suffered so much, but that was ridiculous because they’d only just met and perhaps nothing would develop. Emer shouldn’t be attempting to shield Luke from the world, but the urge to protect him was strong. He needed a good experience to boost his self-esteem enough to cope with any future disappointments. ‘Thanks for being so kind and spending time with Luke yesterday, Kate,’ she said.

‘I’ve offered to show him our stables.’

‘He’ll enjoy that. Just doing something normal. His emotions have taken a beating these last couple of weeks. He needs time to recover. I’m not sure he can cope with any more drama.’

Kate nodded. ‘Don’t worry. I know that. I’ll look after him.’

Although she didn’t want to cause offence, Emer had to be sure the message got across. ‘It’s just … well … Luke is vulnerable and might read more into a kindness than is actually there, if you see what I mean.’

‘Sure,’ said Kate, ‘but I like Luke – a lot. I genuinely enjoy his company and want to get to know him better.’

‘I think the feeling’s mutual.’

Kate beamed her dazzling smile again, though she was fighting to control Petruchio, who was tearing up the nearby grass. ‘I’d best be off. This one’s playing up.’

‘Enjoy your ride,’ said Emer.

‘Enjoy your day, and safe trip home.’

As the horse eagerly moved off along the street, Kate looked back over her shoulder. ‘Hey, Emer,’ she called. ‘You know the other reason I like spending time with Luke? He’s
hot!

They grinned at each other and then Kate was gone, her horse breaking into a trot and turning up a side lane. At least Luke wasn’t chasing rainbows. Maybe nothing would come of it, but he had to start somewhere.

Emer took the apple from her pocket and bit into it, savouring the sweetness and catching the juice as it dribbled down her chin. As she headed back to the car, a silver BMW swerved into The Foresters car park. A pair of legs swung out first, sporting killer stilettos, and then the rest of Sarah emerged just as elegantly. Emer was impressed – she could only ever manage an undignified scramble from a vehicle since deportment wasn’t high on the list at the school she’d attended. Sarah must have seen her but offered no greeting, just pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head and slammed the car door before striding into the hotel. She’d looked immaculate in a navy suit, apricot scarf at her throat, and Emer felt spectacularly underdressed in her simple black jacket, half-eaten apple in hand. If Jack could see them both now, would he still choose her?

There hadn’t been many mourners at Annie’s funeral but those who came had done her proud, with an impressive display of wreaths and flowers. Luke bent forward awkwardly to read some of the attached cards.

Of course, the biggest wreath – white lilies and roses – was from Jack. Why did he have to be so showy, although a small wreath would have pissed Luke off, too. Jack had written ‘
Why?

on the card. Still pushing the lie? Or proof he really didn’t force Annie to leave? Luke was tired of trying to figure it all out, yet until he did, he wouldn’t know what to believe, who to trust.

‘It’s what I want to know too, Mam,’ he whispered. ‘Why? I don’t understand – but I know whatever you did, you thought it was right. I miss you. This is all my fault and I’m so sorry.’

A small bunch of shamrock tied with a dark green ribbon caught his eye. The message said simply ‘
Rest in Peace, Annie.
Emer Sullivan’ and it meant as much to Luke as any of the other tributes. Emer had helped him more than she could know, encouraging him with the eulogy and coming all this way to support him.

She was waiting in the car. She’d known, without him saying, that he’d wanted some time alone with his mother. He felt he should stay longer, but Emer had planned a special day for him. He’d not be rude and spoil it, but he might not be great company. The last few sleepless nights had taken it out of him. A thought suddenly occurred to him about another way to honour Annie. He’d need a quiet place to do it, though. And no one around. He turned and walked back to Emer’s car, feeling a little more ready for the day ahead.

Luke couldn’t remember when he’d ever enjoyed a day so much. A trip to Old Trafford, home of his Manchester United heroes, had been a welcome break from his grief. A few children had looked at him on his crutches, maybe thinking he was an injured player, and he’d allowed himself a moment of fantasy.

When Emer had told him Kate would be driving him home, Luke’s heart literally jumped. A perfect end to the day.

‘Will I see you again, Emer?’ he asked as they waited outside the stadium. He felt anxious again. Lost.

‘Haven’t we just shared a great day together? The first of many, I hope,’ she said as she hugged him. That gave him a lift. Sounded like she was committed to the friendship. It was something to hold on to. Emer had become very special to him.

Jack swung open the door to Richard’s office. His bastard brother-in-law was sipping coffee and reading the newspaper as if he hadn’t a care in the world.

‘Jack! A knock would be nice …’

‘Oh, I’ll knock you, Richard – into the middle of next week. What the fuck is this?’ He slapped down the contract he’d found buried within the pile of papers on his desk.

Richard glanced at the document. ‘It’s a contract with Redgate. They’re going to build us market housing units in the riverfront section of the Woodlands development. We can sell them for a song to all those city types who want to swap the smell of car fumes for the smell of manure. The profits will be huge and …’

‘There are people living on part of that land, Richard, as you are well aware. Low-income families, some who’ve been there for generations. And you also knew I was looking into retaining their houses for them. We’d have got great press. Now all we’ll get is the media denouncing us as greedy property developers, destroying a long-established community for the sake of profit … Richard, are you listening to me?’ The git had just taken another sip of coffee and glanced back at his newspaper.

‘Jack,’ sighed Richard. ‘I did the figures. Market housing units, particularly in that location by the river, will generate considerable profit. Anyway, do you really think the well-off will want to mingle with society’s lowlifes? Get real!’ He laughed, and Jack felt the urge to smash his fist into the man’s arrogant face.

‘Woodlands will be valuable precisely because there’ll be no riff-raff,’ Richard continued. ‘We’re a business, not a charity. We exist to make profits.’

With that, Jack swept Richard’s coffee cup off the desk. Petulant, but worth it. Richard jumped up, his suit and desk splattered. ‘Don’t lecture me, you jumped-up pen-pusher!’ Jack snapped. ‘My father and I built this business. You just hitched a ride. Those “lowlifes” as you call them have rights and could take us to court. That kind of publicity we don’t need.’

‘Calm down, Jack. The existing homeowners have been offered compensation. More money than they could ever see from a lifetime of dole scrounging. They’ll all sign.’

Jack couldn’t believe what he was hearing. ‘
They’ll. All. Sign!
’ he repeated, dwelling on each word. Perhaps slow talking would get through to Richard.

‘What’s your problem, Jack?’

Where to start? Richard treated Claire like a nobody, he’d been made Planning Director last year despite Jack’s protests, and his son Gavin was an obnoxious git. ‘My problem is, you appear to have committed us to a contract with Redgate before getting agreement from all the interested parties – only an idiot would do that.’

Richard’s expression closed down at the insult, and he jutted his jaw defiantly. ‘There are a few signatures still to come in, yes, but it’s not a problem. People know a good deal when they see one.’

Jack splayed his hands on the desk, leaning over to stare at his brother-in-law. ‘I hope you’re right because if anything goes wrong, you’ll be the one to burn for it.’

‘Well, Sir Nicholas didn’t seem to have reservations,’ said Richard. ‘He was more than happy to put his signature to it. I did try to get in touch with you, but you obviously had your hands full with Traveller boy. Now – was there anything else?’

‘Yes, but it would involve you having a brain transplant.’

As Jack headed to the door, Richard’s voice followed him. ‘Tell Rebecca to come and clear this up.’

Jack half-turned in the doorway. ‘There won’t always be someone around to clean up your mess, Richard.’

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