The Corrigan legacy (12 page)

'Sorry, Miss Corrigan.'

'It's all right. One begins to think very differently when one's days are numbered.'

When he'd gone, she sat mulling things over, praying she'd have enough time left to make a sensible disposal of her wealth.

She hoped Leo's daughter would accept her offer to come to England. She felt a certain sympathy towards anyone trapped by illness and had asked Andy to research chronic fatigue syndrome for her and find out the best specialist dealing with it.

As for Leo's son, from all reports Jason was exactly like his father, content with moderate achievements, living for his family. She'd bet he'd not accept her offer to come to England.

How fecund her brothers were, damn them!

That evening Maeve shared her plans with Andy. 'I intend to write to Des's wife Judith, inviting her to come and visit me. Could you bring her here without him finding out? He's having her watched twenty-four hours a day, apparently.'

'Are you sure that's—'

Maeve held up one hand. 'Don't you start asking me if it's wise! I've finished being wise. I intend to be selfish and self-indulgent for what time I have left. And I intend to leave my mark on my family! They're not just getting my money, they're getting a few prods in the right direction.'

He grinned. He'd been the recipient of her prods early in their association, and was truly thankful for them when he looked back and saw how much stronger he'd grown because of her tutelage. 'They won't know what's hit them. But wise or not, I'll do whatever you wish and well you know it, you manipulative woman.'

She smiled at him, taking that as a compliment.

'When you write to Judith, tell her to phone me on my mobile and I'll arrange a meeting.'

Her hand rested briefly on his. 'Thank you.' Then she leaned back in her chair, looking tired again. I need another damned rest.'

He left the room quietly, hoping the new treatment was helping fight the cancer. She looked almost transparent, but she'd never looked as beautiful, and she'd lost some of that hard edge which had sometimes upset him. But then, he was too soft, he knew.

On the Friday Judith heard something fall through her letter box and went to pick up the envelopes from the hall floor. Two were bills, the other was cream in colour and looked expensive. She rubbed her finger across it, enjoying the texture and feel. She'd tried paper making once so could recognize quality.

In the kitchen she slit the envelope carefully because it was too beautiful to tear and spread out the single sheet of paper inside. It was from an address in Cheshire, not one she recognized, so she quickly scanned the letter, gasped in surprise and read it again more slowly.

My dear Ms Horrocks,

You may be surprised to hear from me, but I'm your ex-husband's sister and I'd like to meet you. Our meeting could lead to financial advantage to your son - but I must request that you don't mention this letter or anything that stems from it to Des, given his feelings about me.

I'm not in good health so cannot come to you. I wonder if you'd kindly come and visit me at your earliest convenience. If you ring the number below, my personal assistant; Andy Blauman, will make the necessary arrangements.

Maeve Corrigan

Judith stared at the letter, re-read it then stared into space. Des had never had a good word to say for his sister and if Maeve was using her to stir up trouble, then Judith didn't want to get involved. But she'd seen for herself how spiteful Des could be, so maybe his sister wasn't as bad as he said and . . . Oh, hell, she didn't need anything else to worry about. She'd just ignore this letter.

But the words 'financial advantage to your son' kept repeating themselves in her mind and in the end she dialled the phone number she'd been given. She put the receiver down again after one ring. No, she'd be foolish to get involved.

An hour later curiosity got the better of her and she pressed redial.

'Mr Blauman? Judith Horrocks here.'

'Maeve will be delighted you rang.'

'I'm still not sure whether to come and see her or not. I don't really want to get involved in my ex's family feuds.'

'The feud is on your husband's side only.'

'Yes, but—'

'Look, Miss Corrigan hasn't long to live. She has cancer, though we'd be grateful if you'd keep that to yourself. She's a wonderful, courageous woman and I'm sure she won't waste your time.'

Judith frowned. This put a new perspective on financial advantage for Mitch. And the way Andy spoke of his employer said a lot about her, too. She doubted any of Des's employees would praise him so unstintingly. Well, she knew for certain they wouldn't. He regarded all of them, except for Raymond Tate, as expendable and interchangeable. 'Very well. If you'll give me the address, I'll drive over to see Miss Corrigan.'

'There's a small problem. Are you aware that your husband has you under 24-hour surveillance?'

'What? No!'

'We'd prefer that he didn't know about this meeting.'

'So would I!'

'Then I suggest you drive to the Wheatsheaf Shopping Centre in Rochdale and I'll meet you there. You can leave your car in the car park and I'll drive you to Cheshire. Would next Monday suit you?'

'Yes.'

'Shall we meet at nine o'clock outside the bookshop?'

'Yes. How will I recognize you?'

'Trust me. I'll know you.'

When she put the phone down Judith didn't move for a moment or two. Trust me, he'd said. She wasn't sure she trusted anyone linked with the Corrigans. What the hell was she letting herself in for? If Andy Blauman knew her by sight, then it meant that someone else had been watching her as well.

But she had to admit she was curious to meet Maeve, after all Des had said about his sister.

Besides, Judith's new life was a bit lonely and not once had she been in the mood for painting.

As the setting sun lengthens the shadows, ancient drystone walls pattern the lower slopes of the moors. Trapped between them, sheep punctuate the landscape.

Of such evenings were masterpieces painted Judith thought, gazing eastwards out of the kitchen window towards the moors. For the first time in many weeks she itched for her paints. She'd unpack them tomorrow, sort out the attic, make a studio for herself.

No wonder her aunt had loved this place. She tore herself away from the view that daily blessed her eyes and nipped upstairs. But she forgot to change her clothes and couldn't bear to switch on the light, because another view greeted her here, just as beautiful, and she could only stand at the window looking out at the gilded clouds floating across the western sky. Beauty, whether in large or small doses, never failed to move her.

It was not until she was drawing the curtains on the landing that she noticed the car parked on the road outside her gates. Same dark car, again with a solitary occupant.

That brought her back to reality with a thump and as she realized what its presence meant, she grew so angry that she forgot any questions of safety and ran downstairs. Flinging open the front door she marched across the road to rap on the tinted window of the vehicle. 'Get out! I'd like a word with you.'

She couldn't see his features clearly through the darkened glass, but she could see the lighter crescent of his teeth as his mouth dropped open in surprise.

While he was doing what she'd asked, she suddenly saw the camera lying ready on the dashboard and thinking of him taking sneaky photographs of her daily life or visitors was the final straw to send her anger blazing up to white heat. Snatching the camera, she hurled it as far as she could into the field beyond. 'Tell my husband he can go to hell! I'll do as I please and he can't stop me,' she yelled, then turned and marched back into the house.

From the bedroom window she watched in great satisfaction as the man clambered over the dry-stone wall and began searching through the tussocky grass for his camera. It took him a long time to find it.

Cal arrived in Blackfold just as dusk was blurring the landscape. The village street was quiet, except for the central area near the three pubs and chip shop. He drove through, smiling at the sight of groups of young people talking and gesticulating, some in couples, some standing alone, one trio sitting on a wall like carrion crows- why did so many of them wear black? He liked young people, had allowed one or two to spend time with him on work experience, and hoped he'd helped them. Most of them had been full of wonderful energy and enthusiasm.

At Judith's end of the village he saw a flash of light in one of the parked cars as someone lit a cigarette. After parking the bike, he looked in his rear-view mirror and realized that the car was ideally placed to see who came and went. That must be her ex having a watch kept on her.

When she answered the doorbell, she said only, 'Cal!' and smiled at him.

For a moment he stood smiling back at her, saying nothing.

She took a step backwards and gestured gracefully with one arm. 'Come in. I have a bottle of wine opened.'

'I'd better not. There's a man over there watching the house.'

' I know.'

'You do?'

She glared towards the car. 'Yes. I'd rather you came in openly. I don't want Des thinking he can stop me seeing people. He and I are permanently separated and I intend to do what I like with my life from now on. In fact, she leaned up to kiss his cheek, I hope he takes more photos of us.'

'If you're sure . . .?'

'I'm very sure.'

'Then I'll park the bike in its usual place and unload it. Did you put the blankets back in the shed?'

'No. I'm not having a friend sleeping out there when I've got several spare bedrooms empty here. I mean it.'

He grinned at her. 'You're in a stroppy mood today.'

She smiled back. 'I certainly am. I went across the road earlier and threw that man's camera into the field. It took him ages to find it again.'

Cal threw back his head and let out a shout of laughter.

'While you're getting your things I'll pour you a glass of wine. Red or white?'

'White.'

'Come in the back way. The kitchen door is open.'

Still smiling, Cal went to roll his bike round to the back of the house, unable to resist the temptation to flourish a mocking bow towards the watcher in the car first.

'Go and get ready, Lily,' Kerry said sharply. 'We're leaving in a few minutes.' 

'Can't I just pick up my emails first? You can read them. You'll see for yourself then that Dad still cares for me.'

'Wayne and I have checked. He hasn't sent any emails either yesterday or today. We'd have printed them out for you.'

'I don't believe you!'

Her mother shrugged. 'Believe it or not, it's the truth. Now, go and get ready!'

Lily was tired of saying she wasn't going to Brighton with them, that she didn't want to go anywhere but to her dad's. She didn't believe he hadn't tried to contact her. He emailed every single day, never forgot, sending the emails to both her addresses. He must be worrying about not hearing from her, but her mother had kept her home from school for the past few days, so she hadn't been able to give her friend any more messages for him.

Yesterday her mother had gone on and on at her about their new life till Lily lost it, screaming at her to shut up and leave her alone.

She went upstairs, wondering if she could barricade herself in her room but knowing that wouldn't work for long. Wayne was a strong man. He'd soon break down her door.

As she looked out of the window, he drove up and her mother rushed out to meet him, flinging herself into his arms.

When they started kissing, right there beside his car, Lily realized this was her chance, grabbed her jacket and backpack, took her father's door key out of its hiding place inside a CD cover and slipped downstairs. She went out through the kitchen door and climbed over into Mrs Baxter's back garden. The dog gave a sleepy woof, wagging its tail at her, but she didn't dare stop to pat it as she ran across to climb over the far fence on to the cycle path that curled between the houses.

A bus came round the corner just as she reached the next street and she put on a sprint to catch it, smiling in delight at this good fortune, which seemed like an omen. Leaving the bus at the nearest tube station, she took a train to her father's. She knew she shouldn't be doing this, didn't want to get him in trouble, but couldn't think of anywhere else to go. He'd probably take her straight back home, but at least she'd have seen him, hugged him, talked to him, and made him promise not to give up on her, whatever her mother said.

Outside his house she stopped dead at the sight of the security light winking, disappointment pinning her to the spot. He was out! She started moving again, walking past, fighting against tears. Was he out for the night?

What was she going to do now?

Kerry called up the stairs, 'Lily! Come down and say hello to Wayne.' When there was no response, she went up and flung open the door of her daughter's bedroom. 'What are you—' She broke off and stared round the empty room, her eyes going immediately to the hook on the door where Lily always hung her favourite casual jacket - it was gone - and the shelf where she kept her backpack. That too was gone, though the new mobile phone was lying on the desk, half-hidden by some papers.

A quick search of the other bedrooms, then a rapid tour of the downstairs rooms and Kerry said to Wayne, 'She's got out, run away.'

As he took her into his arms and held her gently, she leaned against him pretending to need his support. But her mind was racing furiously. Where had the stupid child gone? Obviously to her father's. Well, Lily would soon find that she'd only delayed their departure today.

'Is it all worth it, honey?' he asked.

'Yes. I'm not having him bringing her up.' And anyway, Lily's real father paid Kerry a handsome sum each month because of her - and without asking for an accounting, too. She hadn't told Wayne any of the details.

He smiled. 'If that's what you want, I'm with you all the way. She's putting up a stronger fight than I'd expected against coming with us, though. What's her real father like? Does he have red hair too?'

'He did when he was younger. But he couldn't care less about Lily. He made that clear from the start.'

'Who is he?'

She bit her lip.

'Kerry?'

She could see no way of getting out of telling him. She'd already learned that when he spoke in that tone of voice, Wayne meant business.

He stared at her in surprise. 'I know him.'

'Well, don't tell her who he is! She'll be going off to look for him and I'm not having her hurt by him.'

He put his arms round her. 'He hurt you, didn't he?'

She shrugged but she knew she wasn't fooling him - or herself. She'd been badly hurt when Lily's father had dropped her just because she wouldn't get rid of the baby, and she'd never forgive him for that. She would never let herself care for someone that much again, and she'd make sure he continued to pay handsomely for Lily until she grew up._ By then Kerry would have a very nice nest egg behind her, what with Cal's money as well.

Judith and Cal sat up late. She made him a Spanish omelette with crusty bread and a salad, then produced the first cake she had baked in years, a rich fruit cake, and they ate some of it Lancashire fashion, with sharp, crumbly local cheese.

They shared the bottle of wine, sipping it and chatting like old friends. When she yawned she looked at the clock. 'Goodness! I hadn't realized it was so late.'

He glanced across at it, pulled his glasses off and rubbed the bridge of his nose. 'Eleven o'clock's early for me, but I must admit I'm tired today. It's been an uncomfortable sort of week.'

'You should have found out from the authorities where you stand.'

He sighed. 'I suppose so. But what if I have no rights whatsoever?'

'Then at least you'd know.'

He shook his head and his voice was tight with anguish as he added, 'I can't bear the thought of losing her completely, just can't bear it!'

Judith picked up his hand, intending only a gesture of comfort, but the currents that had been whispering between them all evening suddenly grew stronger and desire burned through her. She hadn't felt like this in years, not just roused sexually but roused emotionally too. It would be so easy to care for Cal. He was an attractive man, tall and rangy, with a lean face and beautiful blue eyes magnified into mesmerizing prominence by the spectacles. Even his hair was beautiful, soft and dark, with just a few threads of silver. It had a hint of a wave and was too long at the moment, nearly jaw level, but that suited him. She'd seen an advertisement for spectacles with a guy in it who wasn't half as attractive as Cal.

Then she stopped thinking as he raised their joined hands to his lips and kissed her knuckles. Desire lurched in her belly and she couldn't help sucking in her breath. It had been a long time.

He took off his glasses and set them down carefully on the low table in front of them. When he pulled her back into his arms, she leaned willingly into his embrace, wanting to see where these feelings would lead. The kiss was curiously gentle, as unlike Des's kisses as anything could be, but it went on and on until she felt the world around them fade and was conscious only of Cal, his lips, his body. When he drew away she let out a little moan of protest.

'Is it too early for us to go to bed?' he asked.

She didn't pretend to misunderstand him. 'This morning I'd have thought so. Now, I think maybe it's the right time. Have you got something to protect us?'

'Yes. I always was an optimist.' With one of his devastating smiles, he stood up and pulled her to her feet. Another kiss made her knees go weak then it was she who took the initiative. 'Let's go upstairs. I'm too old to lie on the floor.'

Without a word he followed her, picking up his spectacles and holding them dangling by one sidepiece, leaving his jacket behind.

The bedroom was old-fashioned and still smelled slightly of mothballs, though she'd had the window open each day. He moved to put his spectacles down, then turned to smile at her again. She opened her mouth to apologize for the smell, but his kiss stopped the words. She wanted to touch him, wanted him to touch her, moved willingly as they began to remove each other's clothes, then felt suddenly shy as she stood in bra and panties.

He noticed and stilled at once. 'What's wrong?'

'I'm too fat. I'm embarrassed.'

He stood back, lean and splendid, unfazed by his own nakedness. 'Fat? Judith, you have got to be kidding!' He watched her and said in surprise, 'You're not kidding, are you?' He took hold of her hand and held her at arm's length. 'You're beautiful, just how a woman should be, soft and curved and - ah, Judith!' He pulled her into his arms as tears welled in her eyes. 'Did he tell you you were too fat?' 

She nodded against his shoulder.

'He must be a fool.' He chuckled softly into her hair. 'My ex was too thin and bony, still is. I've been with other lovely women since her, not many, but not one of them was splinter-thin. I like comfortable women, real women. This - ' he slid her bra strap down and cupped the fullness of her breast - 'is perfect.'

His mouth stopped her speaking again and somehow they were on the bed, caressing one another, not rushing into love, but moving gently towards it in a way that was new to her . . .

Afterwards, as she lay in his arms, she felt tears trickle down her cheeks.

He wiped them away with his fingertip. 'What's wrong?'

'Nothing. In fact, something inside me feels better than it has for a long time.' She laughed self-consciously. 'I'm crying because I'm so happy.'

'Your ex is a fool to throw away something as valuable as you.'

She gave another shaky laugh and hugged him suddenly. 'You're a lovely fellow, Cal Richmond. And I—' She broke off because she'd suddenly remembered where she'd heard the name.

'What is it?'

'Nothing.'