Beneath an Irish Sky (Choc Lit) (28 page)

Kate was outraged. It was all she could do to stop herself rushing out of the bathroom and slapping Nicholas’s face. If Matt needed any more convincing, this was proof of just how little his grandparents thought of Luke.

‘Let me get this straight, Granddad. You’ll set me up in my own business, as long as Luke isn’t in my life?’

Nicholas nodded. ‘Can you blame me, after that performance today? The boy is like a virus. Infecting everyone he comes into contact with. Why else would Kate Walker have been protesting – and Timothy Leighton, of all people. Don’t throw away an opportunity like this for a virtual stranger who may not even be your brother. Take some time to think it over.’

Kate waited for Matt to tell his grandfather to shove his offer, but he said, ‘I’ll think about what you’ve said, Granddad. You’ll have my answer tomorrow.’

As soon as Kate heard Nicholas leave, she confronted Matt. ‘You have got to be kidding! Please tell me you’re not seriously considering that disgusting offer.’

‘Whoa!’ said Matt. ‘Give me a break here. I said I’d think about it. There’s no harm in that.’

Kate wanted to cry. This wasn’t Matt speaking. Not her precious Matt, her big brother, her best friend as long as she could remember. ‘No harm? Accepting means cutting Luke out of your life.’ Kate couldn’t recall a time when she’d ever felt so angry. ‘What will he say when he hears you’ve traded him in for a pub?’

‘It wouldn’t have to be forever … just until I’d made a name for myself. Then I’d be in a position to help Luke – offer him a job. Maybe we could be partners. I could refurbish The Swan, get good reviews in magazines and guidebooks … if I made a success of it, I could go anywhere and kiss Granddad’s conditions goodbye. I’d be doing it as much for Luke as for me …’

Kate pulled on her jacket and picked up her bag. ‘You keep telling yourself that, Matt.’ At the door, she paused and went back to the kitchen table to take the remaining doughnuts. Let Matt buy his own. ‘And you can think of those as our last supper.’

Waiting for their coffees in the café close to Stewart Enterprises, Luke and Tim paid little attention at first to the man sitting in the corner. He was wearing sunglasses and a baseball cap, and appeared to be using a newspaper as a shield. When he lowered the newspaper, however, Luke realised with some shock it was Matt. And he was waving Luke over to his table.

‘I’ll take these on out,’ said Tim, handing Luke a polystyrene cup of coffee and putting the rest on a tray. ‘You take all the time you need.’ Luke watched him go and felt a rush of affection for his new friend, who pretended to be the world’s worst gossip but was really the soul of tact and discretion.

‘All right, bro?’ asked Matt when Luke went over to his table and sat down.

Luke nodded. ‘You?’

‘I am now,’ said Matt. ‘Got a few things sorted in my head. You know how it is – everything can be a fog and then it lifts.’

Luke wasn’t sure he did know how it was but he murmured agreement anyway. ‘So what are you doin’ here, Matt?’

‘Got to see Granddad. He came to see me and made me an offer I’d be stupid to refuse.’

‘The pub at Hadleigh.’ Luke knew all about the offer. An angry Kate had told him about it when she arrived home yesterday. It had taken a massage, a footrub and a whole tub of ice cream to calm her down.

‘I promised him an answer today. Did Kate tell you the conditions?’

Luke nodded. ‘Yes. She also told me why you were considerin’ it.’

Kate had been more than a little surprised when Luke had said he understood where Matt was coming from. A year out of their lives might not be so bad if the end result meant some kind of security for both Matt and Luke. It wasn’t Luke’s idea of a career move but obviously Matt had good intentions. ‘You’d be mad to turn it down,’ he said.

Matt opened his eyes in surprise then reached out and tugged at Luke’s protest T-shirt. ‘Have you got a spare one of these?’

‘Why?’

‘Because I am mad … and stupid. I’m here to join you. I want to go and tell Granddad what to do with his offer, and I want to be wearing one of these when I do.’

Matt gave him a hug and it was the best feeling in the world. Things were right again between them. Soon Jack and Nicholas would find out The Good Ship Stewart had just sprung an almighty leak.

Jack slammed down the phone. How much worse would this all get? Canalside Leisure had just put final negotiations on hold, nervous about the adverse publicity the protest was bringing. A year Jack had spent setting that deal up. All wasted.

The door opened and Richard barged in. The man who’d created this whole nightmare. The last person Jack wanted to see. He flicked open his laptop and snapped, ‘I’m busy, Richard. Make an appointment.’

Richard marched up to the desk and set his phone down in front of Jack. ‘You’d better take a look at this photo.’

Jack took the phone and saw what had obviously made Richard’s day: Matt wearing a protest T-shirt and carrying a placard, Luke beside him. Jack shouldn’t have been surprised, but still he felt the sharp stab of betrayal. He handed the phone back.

‘Sir Nicholas knows,’ smirked Richard. ‘Apparently Matt paid him a visit earlier. Perhaps you should lie low for a while.’

‘Cowering in corners may be your style, Richard – it’s not mine.’

Nicholas was in the middle of a phone call. He didn’t look that upset, but then he was the master of the poker face. Jack wandered over to the window and peered out. Perhaps he should go out and confront Matt? The media would have a field day with that, though. Best if he called him when he got home.

Nicholas ended the call. ‘Have a seat, Jack. I just heard about Canalside Leisure. I’ll go over there this afternoon.’

Jack sat down, feeling puzzled. If Nicholas knew Matt had joined the protest, why wasn’t it the main topic of conversation?

‘Dad, about Matt …’

To Jack’s amazement, Nicholas shrugged. ‘I’m disappointed, of course. I saw it coming. Did my best. Some you win, some you lose.’

‘Did your best. What do you mean?’

Nicholas was reading his phone messages as he spoke. ‘I offered to buy The Swan pub for Matt if he stayed away from Luke.’

Jack shot up from the chair as if it had burned him. ‘You did what!’

Nicholas assessed him critically. ‘I did what you should have done, Jack. Tried to sort out this Luke situation before it went too far.’

Inside, Jack was shaking with rage. ‘How dare you, Dad! I told you not to interfere, that I’d deal with Matt.’

‘So I jumped the gun a bit – what’s wrong with that?’

‘He probably thought I put you up to it. You’ve just made things worse.’

Nicholas stood up, looking angry. ‘How could things be any worse than they are already? You botched things badly, bringing that trailer trash back here. He’s got Kate Walker and Tim Leighton onside. Now we’re losing Matt.’

‘
You
lost us Matt by your interference. He probably thought he was being manipulated – which he was.’

‘Well, someone had to do something. You’ve been worse than useless. Where’s the son I raised? You’ve never been spineless before …’

Before he knew what he was doing, Jack had pulled his fist back, ready to punch his father’s face. He was so close to doing it and shocked by how much he wanted to. It took all of his willpower to lower his fist. What was happening to him? He was losing it, badly.

Nicholas shook his head. ‘We both love this company, Jack,’ he sighed. ‘That’s why we get so overwrought when someone attacks it. You should use some of that fight in you to protect it, not the opposite.’

Was that grudging admiration in his father’s eyes? God, how twisted was that? ‘Dad … I’m going home …’

‘Maybe that’s best. Give yourself some time to cool off.’

‘No … I want to take a leave of absence … a couple of weeks …’

‘We’re in the middle of a crisis here!’

‘I know. I just … can’t deal with it right now. Sorry.’

‘Jack!’

He turned and left. Walked right out of the building, into his car, and once through the protestors, drove home at speed. After downing over half a bottle of whisky, he was finally able to drift into oblivion on the living room sofa.

Jack was dreaming about Ireland. He was near the Powerscourt Waterfall, trying to find Emer. She’d said something about skinny-dipping and then disappeared. Suddenly, Sarah was there, telling him Emer had made a fool of him. ‘Get lost!’ he told her.

‘I beg your pardon!’

That was his mother’s voice. Why in God’s name was she there? Jack jerked awake. He was lying on the living room sofa and Grace was standing over him, frowning. He sat up and groaned. His head throbbed. The nearly empty bottle on the coffee table was the culprit. Of course, Grace had seen it.

‘Now I see why you didn’t answer any of my calls yesterday.’

Yesterday? He must have slept right through. He looked at his watch. Just turned ten. He rubbed his aching neck and sighed. ‘Good morning, Mother.’

‘Is it?’ she responded. ‘Forgive me if I think otherwise since I can no longer hold my head up in Baronsmere.’

The real reason for her visit. Not genuine concern for him, just for what the world would think about the Stewarts. ‘I apologise for ruining your social life, Mother,’ he drawled.

‘It’s not just my life you’re ruining – you seem intent on destroying your own as well.’

‘I’m hardly on the slippery slope to oblivion.’

She looked pointedly at the whisky bottle. ‘Really?’

Jack felt wrong-footed and irritable. ‘I need to freshen up. How about some coffee? Maggie’s away, so would you mind making it?’

While Grace went into the kitchen, Jack trudged upstairs and into his bathroom. Showering and shaving helped him feel more focused, but it did little to improve his mood. Only his mother’s exit would help with that. He downed two painkillers and prayed they’d work quickly.

When he entered the kitchen, Grace pushed a mug of instant across the table. She probably had no idea how to work a coffee machine. ‘Thanks,’ he said, taking a welcome gulp. There was an uncomfortable silence, punctuated only by the lilac bush blowing against the window and Honey’s restless skulking around the kitchen.

‘That dog isn’t getting enough exercise,’ stated Grace. ‘She’ll run to fat.’

Jack sighed at this interference. ‘She’s fine.’

Grace was watching him like a hawk. Probably waiting for an apology. Best to get it over with. ‘I assume Dad told you I nearly hit him. I’m sorry. I was out of control. That’s why I came home. I need a break.’

‘Your father’s very concerned. He wanted to come over to see you this morning, but …’

‘He’s got a business to run, profits to make, people to crush.’

‘Jack! It’s not like you to be so cynical. The business is what supports us all, keeps us comfortable. And you know it means everything to your father.’

‘But it no longer means everything to me,’ Jack said, and he meant it.

‘Perhaps you just need a holiday …’ suggested Grace.

‘I think it’s going to take more than a fortnight in Barbados to fix this.’

‘Talk to Matt. He loves you. You’ll work it out.’

‘Matt’s very angry, not just with me, but with you and Dad – because of the way you treated Luke. And Annie.’

Grace looked shocked. ‘What have you been saying to him?’

‘Nothing. He heard about it from someone else.’

‘Village gossip,’ said Grace dismissively. ‘Matt should know better than to listen to that.’

‘I don’t think it was all gossip. Annie was made to feel she could never belong. And you were one of the people who made her feel that way.’

‘I tried, Jack – Lord knows, I tried, but we had nothing in common.’

Jack shook his head. ‘You didn’t try. I saw that with my own eyes but didn’t want to rock the boat by pointing it out. And I’ll never forgive myself for that. I should have had more guts. And you should have had more compassion. Been less of a snob.’

Grace stood up. ‘I’m
not
going to stay here and be insulted …’

Jack cut her short. ‘No, I’m sure you can go elsewhere for it – I’m realising exactly what the people in this village think of us.’

‘I’ll put your rudeness down to the drink, Jack, and I just hope when you’re fully sober, you come to your senses …’

Grace marched away, her heels clacking angrily on the wooden floor. Jack remained where he was at the table. ‘That’s already happened, Mother,’ he called after her. ‘I’ll leave you to see yourself out.’

At the resounding slam of the front door, Honey whined and hid beneath Jack’s chair. He patted her head and wondered how long it would be until he managed to upset her as well. When he picked up the coffee mug, his hand was shaking.

Friday morning, and another solitary breakfast. The house seemed to echo around Jack. Usually Matt had music thumping somewhere in the background and Maggie would be roving the rooms, cleaning and scolding as she went. Now there was nothing. They had gone, taking their life and their laughter with them. He missed them. But he was coping. Adjusting. That’s what he was known for, after all.

As for Luke – well, maybe he was his son, maybe he wasn’t. There was no way Jack could have broached the subject of the DNA test since he’d got back from Ireland. Not if he’d wanted to avoid another scene even worse than the one after Nicholas’s visit. It just wasn’t worth it. Maybe Luke himself might suggest it in the future. Until then, it just didn’t seem to matter any more. He was too tired to care.

Jack hadn’t left the house for three days. He didn’t need to. The fridge and freezer were stacked with enough food to last out weeks of a siege. He’d told Emer everything when she called in response to his e-mail. She’d approved of his taking a break from work but felt he shouldn’t be alone too much. It had been on the tip of his tongue to ask – no, beg – her to come to the May Day festival. He’d have to go, to fulfill his charity commitments, but he was dreading the sly looks and whispers. The gossip grapevine would be in full swing. He hadn’t wanted to expose Emer to that. So he’d told her he was taking a vacation and would be in touch on his return.

And that’s exactly what he was planning to do when May Day was over. He’d take a hire car down to France – to Antibes, to visit Caroline’s parents, the Ingrams. Then he’d move on to Italy, island hop in Greece, take a boat over to Turkey and sip coffee with the Bosphorus spread before him. He’d travel as far as he wanted, as far as he needed, until the painful memories faded. He was loosening the bonds, backing away, withdrawing. Some would say he was running away. Perhaps he was, but he needed to get away from Baronsmere, from everyone – especially Luke. The time was ripe for change. He would view it all as the Chinese philosophers had done – not as a crisis, but as an opportunity. Perhaps he wouldn’t come back to Baronsmere at all.

When Luke arrived with Kate at The Fox and Feathers, the pub was packed.

Abbie waved to them from the far corner. ‘Wotcha!’ she said, as Kate and Luke joined her. ‘Where’ve you been? We got here ages ago to get these seats. The karaoke’s just about to start.’

‘Okay,’ said Matt, standing at the microphone on the pub’s small stage. ‘Those fortunate enough to have hearing aids, turn them down now. It’s Al and Tim, with sincere apologies to The Proclaimers!’

When Al and Tim turned around to face the audience, everyone laughed at their thick-rimmed specs. Faking Scottish accents, they began to sing ‘I’m Gonna Be’. Luke knew the song, otherwise he wouldn’t have understood a word.

‘I’d walk five hundred miles to get away from that God-awful racket,’ said Abbie, swigging from a pint glass.

Kate laughed and caught hold of Luke’s hand. He smiled at her. Everything suddenly felt so right. And this was the pub where his mother had worked. It was a comforting thought.

Abbie was staring. ‘So – you’ve done it now.’

‘Done what?’ asked Kate.

‘Appeared in public. Now everyone’ll know you’re an item.’

‘That’s the idea,’ said Kate, and she kissed Luke full on the mouth.

‘Oh, get a room!’ said Abbie. ‘Gavin looks fit to burst a blood vessel.’

Luke followed Abbie’s gaze and saw his cousin seated at the bar, scowling back at them. ‘Guess I’ll always be a pikey to him,’ he said.