The Corrigan legacy (15 page)

Soon after she got home it began to look like rain so she went to sit in the kitchen and stare out of the window. She watched the clouds descend and gather just above the moors, the lowest wisps of ragged white seeming to caress the rolling curves of the tops. She had a lot to think about, needed the peace of this place.

When the phone rang, she hesitated, not wanting to be disturbed, still trying to come to terms with her visit to Maeve. Then, with a shrug, she picked it up.

'Mum. It's Mitch.'

'I do still recognize your voice.'

'Can I come and visit you the weekend after next? It's Lacey's wedding this weekend, or I'd come then.'

'Of course you can. I'd love to see you. How did you know I was going to ring up and invite you?'

'Dunno.'

'I'm missing you dreadfully.' She smiled into the ensuing silence. He always went monosyllabic when emotions were discussed.

'Look, Mum, I can skip the last two classes on the Friday if you'll send me a note, and then I'll travel up to see you straight from school. I hope the trains are good.'

'Does your father know you're coming?'

'No.'

'He'll find out. He's having a watch kept on me. There's someone in a car outside my house every time I look out and they've started to follow me everywhere.'

'Dad can be a sod, can't he?'

'What's he done now?' She listened to her son's explanation, not saying much, surprised that Des was taking this Tiffany person to the wedding but not really caring. Judith was only surprised that Tiffany had stayed with him for so long. She was welcome to him.

With the greatest reluctance, Cal made an appointment to see another lawyer, because the first one hadn't been much use. This one had been highly recommended by a friend of his. Pete had gone through an acrimonious divorce a couple of years ago.

Time to get the facts straight and take action.

He came away shocked to the core, unable to believe that.

Kerry could have been so deceitful and tried to pull the wool over his eyes like that about his legal rights. She must think him stupid. He stopped and considered this. No, she didn't think him stupid, but absent-minded and impractical - and he had been.

Only how to deal with this without putting Lily at the centre of a tug of war battle was more than he could immediately work out.

The first thing was to try to contact his daughter. When he rang Kerry asking to speak to Lily, she told him it would upset the child too much and put the phone down on him.

He tried emailing but his messages to Lily went unanswered.

He contacted the school's guidance officer, but she said Kerry had rung in to say Lily was ill and would be off all week. So he asked to speak to her about his daughter, but she preferred to wait until the child was better and check that Lily didn't mind her speaking to him.

When he shared his worries with Judith, she suggested hiring a private investigator to find out what was going on. He stared at the phone and couldn't at first answer.

'Cal? Are you still there?'

'Yes. I was just - surprised. I don't know any private investigators.'

'Neither do I, but I know someone who'll help us. Hold on. I'll ring you back when I've contacted him.'

Judith put the phone down and went for Andy's mobile number, relieved when he answered straight away. She explained the situation, almost explained that Lily was Des Corrigan's daughter then decided not to rock the boat for Cal at the moment. 'Can you give me the name of someone my friend can contact?'

'Yes, of course. Hold on a minute.'

He read off a number and she scribbled it down.

'Let me know what happens.'

Andy didn't put the phone down but rang through immediately to the firm used by Maeve. He explained the situation and asked that Cal Richmond be given priority and helped in any way possible. Then he went to tell Maeve, sure she'd agree he'd done the right thing.

'Does Judith know Lily Richmond is Des's daughter?' Maeve wondered.

'I don't know.'

'Keep an eye on things, Andy. And find out what this Cal Richmond is like, what his relationship is with the child.' She shook her head, making a muffled noise of irritation in her throat. 'There are so many things to sort out and I can't keep up with them.'

'We're not doing badly.'

She leaned her head back. 'I trust you, Andy. If you ever have to take any decisions without me, remember that.'

'Do you suppose Des knows what's going on with Lily?'

'I doubt it. He's ignored the child all his life, except for paying maintenance.' She smiled. 'I don't know whether this Kerry has broken the law, taking maintenance from two men, but she's definitely been unscrupulous. In fact, this is .all very interesting.' 

As Mark drove her away from the small town of Callabine, Kate sighed and closed her eyes, leaning back against her seat. 'Sorry about all that.'

'It's not your fault.'

'Dad's usually fairly reasonable, if a bit old-fashioned. He just - has a thing about his sister.'

'I'm sorry to hear that. I find her an admirable woman, though she can be very determined if she wants something.' He glanced sideways at her. 'You don't look at all well. You're chalk white.'

'Stress. It makes everything worse. Trouble is, I get bored living a quiet life, so that stresses me out too. Can't win sometimes, can you?'

'I've been researching ME. I believe there are several ways of treating it nowadays.'

'Not in Callabine, there aren't.' Her voice was bitter.

'Have you seen any specialists?'

'The GP sent me to a physician in Berrabin, but he was quite old and I'm sure I knew more than him about what was wrong with me from my research on the Internet. All he wanted to do was put me on antidepressants.' She gave him a wry smile. 'Dad and I had a sharp disagreement about that as well. I didn't have the energy to pursue other avenues at the time. I thought if I took things easy for a while . . . and I did get a little better . . . then later on I'd try to find proper help.'

'Couldn't your parents have pushed matters further?'

She grimaced. 'They know the local doctor socially, have great trust in him, and he took the physician's side. Dad said they wouldn't do anything else unless I tried the antidepressants, because the doctors knew best. As if! So I tried them and they turned what's left of my brain off. I was just a zombie so I stopped taking them. Dad said if I wasn't prepared to give them a fair go, it wasn't worth trying anywhere else. And Mum never goes against him, not when he's set his mind on something.'

'That must have been tough.'

She nodded, pressing her lips together.

'If you're up to it, I'll drive to Sydney and book us into a hotel there until we can get a flight to England.'

'I'll be fine. I'm just sitting here.'

But she wasn't fine. When they stopped for refreshments, she stumbled and would have fallen but for his arm round her.

'Sorry. I get - disoriented, dizzy.'

Mark waited for her outside the Ladies and guided her to a table, bringing her some food and insisting she eat.

'I'm really not hungry.'

'You won't get better if you don't eat.'

'You sound like Mum.'

'No one's ever accused me of being maternal before.' He grinned at her as he turned to his own food.

She looked at the plate, sighed and forced as much as she could down her throat, then saw him watching her.

'Good girl,' he said softly, taking her hand for a moment.

She was sorry when he let go. The simple warmth of a human touch was so comforting.

When they set off again she felt sleepy, so he stopped the car and insisted she get in the back so that she could spread out.

She woke to find they were driving into Sydney. 'I can't have slept so long!'

'You did. I was glad to see it.' He stopped outside a large, expensive-looking hotel. 'Wait here.'

She spent the time tidying herself up.

'I've booked a two-bedroom suite,' he said as he handed over the keys to the parking attendant and waited for her to get out of the car. 'If you need any help during the night, you'll be able to call out.'

'I don't usually need help. It's just that I've pushed myself too far today. All I want to do is sleep.'

'I'm going to insist on you eating something first.'

'I'm not hungry, Mummy dearest.'

He chuckled. 'I know. But humour me, please. If I can't show Miss Corrigan I've done all I can to look after you, I'll never dare face her.'

She looked at him, surprised into another smile. 'Somehow I don't think you're afraid of anyone.'

He considered this, mouth pursed, head on one side. 'You're probably right.'

In the suite, which was more luxurious than anywhere she'd ever stayed before, he carried her suitcase and laptop into her room, but insisted she stay in the living area between the two bedrooms. 'What do you want to eat, or shall I just order for you?'

Kate studied the menu and tried in vain to work up some enthusiasm. She couldn't so pushed it towards him. 'You order.'

'We'll have steaks. Can't beat red meat for iron and energy.'

'Whatever.'

'How about a glass of red wine, too?'

When the food arrived, he coaxed her into eating half the steak and drinking a full glass of red wine. By that time the world had blurred around her and she felt totally exhausted. 'I can't stay awake any longer.' She set down her glass carefully and pushed herself to her feet. When the room whirled around her again, he was there to help her to bed.

'Never mind about undressing, Kate. Just go to sleep.'

And she did, slipping happily down into the warm, peaceful world that was her only escape from feeling rotten. She didn't stir for ten hours straight.

Once Mark was sure Kate was asleep he looked at his watch, calculated the time differences and picked up the phone. 'Andy? I'm in Sydney. I've got Kate with me and I'm bringing her to England as soon as I can get a flight. She's not at all well. Can you arrange an appointment with a specialist in ME? As soon as possible, I'd say.'

'I'll get on to it as soon as places open for business.'

'How's Maeve?'

'Struggling. The treatment's very aggressive.'

'Give her my best. I'll ring back when I've booked our flight.'

After he'd let Andy know the flight details, Mark peeped in again at Kate and only then did he go to bed himself.

How could Kate's father try to stop her getting the help she needed just because it was from Maeve? It must be awful being so ill at her age. Her life had come to an almost complete stop in Carrabine.

His last thought as he fell asleep was: she'd be pretty if she didn't look so wan. She still had a beautiful smile.

Sunshine after rain. People turn up their faces, eyes closed, as they enjoy the warmth. Flowers turn up their faces too, bobbing a humbler greeting to the sun.

The day of Lacey's wedding dawned bright and clear after a stormy night. Mitch got up early and managed to do some studying before he donned the hired morning suit. He grimaced at the sight of himself in the mirror, rufflecl up the tangles of his gelled hair so that they stood even higher, and went to find Gran. She was struggling to fasten her necklace, so he did it for her, then stood back to study her appearance.

'Very smart, but didn't Dad buy you a new necklace to go with your wedding outfit, Gran?'

'It's far too flashy for me. Besides, I always wear this one for weddings. It's my lucky piece.'

He grinned at her. 'Rebelling against him?'

She smiled. 'Just a little.'

He pointed at his hair. 'My little rebellion. Dad'll hate this.'

She looked at him, head on one side, a slight frown creasing her forehead. 'Yes, he will. Look, Mitch, try to remember that your father wasn't always like this. I don't know what's got into him lately, but he used to be fun.'

'Too much testosterone. He's like a stud bull snorting defiance at the world.' Mitch scowled down at his shiny new shoes. 'What about this new woman he's bringing today?'

'Must be someone important to him, or he'd not bring her to Lacey's wedding. You will be polite to her, won't you?'

He shrugged. 'She'll be beautiful and mindless, a trophy doll to flaunt in front of us all.'

'Wait and see. Don't always think the worst of him.'

'I wonder if this one is the reason Mum left him?'

'Does it matter now? I'm quite sure Judith won't go back to him. He's pushed her too far and Mitch - ' she debated for a moment the wisdom of being frank then said something she'd been thinking for a very long time - 'I never did think he was right for her, never. He stifled her.'

'Do you think so?' Mitch had a think about it. 'In some things, maybe he did. He does like things to be done his way. But he did encourage her to paint, don't forget.'

'Only as a hobby. They had quite a few disagreements about it when she got serious. But her tutor said she wasn't quite good enough to paint professionally, so she backed off on that one.'

He thought of Mum's painting, hanging on the wall of his bedroom now, and some of the others she'd done. 'I can't see why he'd say that. Her paintings are beautiful, and I'm not just saying that because she's my mother. They - ' he waved his hands about, searching for words - 'show you something beautiful you'd not have noticed.'

'I think so too, and I told her so, but she said I was biased.'

'Anyway, it's hard to go against Dad.' He couldn't hold back a sigh.

'You won't always be dependent on him.'

He scowled. 'I'll have to work with him when I've finished studying, though, won't I?'

'Well, let's go downstairs. The car will be here for us soon. And remember, this is Lacey's day, so whatever you think of this new woman, keep it to yourself.'

'All right, Gran. Message understood.'

Tiffany took a deep breath and went to answer the door. Des let out a long, low whistle of appreciation at her appearance and she gave him a nervous smile. 'I'm not sure this is the right thing to do. Are you certain you still want me to come with you today? I won't be upset if you've changed your mind.'

He held her at arm's length. 'Of course I want you to come. You look absolutely wonderful, Tiff. Never seen you look so good.' He frowned then rolled his eyes at the ceiling. 'It's being pregnant, isn't it? Some women seem to get a glow on their faces. Judith didn't. She was sick all the time and she not only got fat, she stayed fat afterwards.'

'I've told you before, size 16 isn't fat and it suits her to be voluptuous.'

'You women always stick together. But it doesn't suit me to have a fat wife! I'm glad you haven't put on weight. No one would think you were ...' He patted his belly and winked.

'I'm lucky. I never put on weight. And they would know I was pregnant if they saw me throwing up in the mornings.'

'I think we ought to see a specialist about that.'

'I've already seen my GP and she said morning sickness is perfectly normal at this stage. It passes after an hour or two, anyway.'

'What does a GP know?'

'Enough for me, especially since she's had three kids herself and truly understands what it's like.'

'We'll see about that later.' Des glanced at his watch. 'Are you ready?'

'Just got to get my hat.' She took a deep breath as she fitted it carefully on. She wasn't ready, really. She didn't know what Des meant by this invitation, never had felt sure of Kim, had always schooled herself to think of their relationship as something finite. Especially now. And let's face it, she was using him as much as he was using her, because with him paying her bills she was able to write full-time. She'd been quite open about that when they made their bargain and he didn't mind, said it kept her out of mischief.

As she emerged from the bedroom, he tucked her arm in his. 'You're a real beauty, Tiff. I'm proud to be seen with you.'

She shrugged. She sometimes wished she wasn't, so that people could see the real person behind the mask, the one who wrote stories about love and happiness, who wanted all the usual things in life: marriage, a husband, home and family. No, not any husband. Des Corrigan. It wasn't easy to love someone like him and she often wished her fancy had settled on someone else. Only it hadn't and that was that, so she would take what she could of him while he wanted her, then sort out a new life for herself . . . afterwards. She liked to think of herself as a survivor, after the sort of life she'd led. Taking a deep breath and schooling her face into the regal look that had once made her a successful photographic model, she took his arm and let him lead her out to the shiny white limousine.

There were two people sitting in the back already and she stopped dead. 'You didn't say we were going with someone else.'

'That's only my mother-in-law and son. They don't bite.'

She hung back. 'Des, no! Your mother-in-law will hate me.'

'Hilary isn't the sort to hate anyone.' He pulled her forward, waited as the chauffeur opened the door and helped her inside. 'This is Tiffany. Tiff- meet Hilary and Mitch.'

The boy nodded stiffly. The older woman studied her face, seemed mildly surprised and said, 'Nice to meet you, dear. Do you prefer Tiffany or Tiff?'

'Tiffany. But try telling Des that.'

He laughed. 'You can be Tiffany to everyone else, but you'll always be Tiff to me.'

She felt tears start in her eyes and turned to look out of the window, blinking furiously. Always! How long was that with Des? She caught Hilary watching her with sympathy and understanding written clearly on her face and thought that, in other circumstances, she might have got on well with his mother-in-law, who had a kind face.

The son hadn't even looked at her since the introductions, let alone spoken, and was staring fixedly out of the window. He'd be good-looking when he grew into his body, but at the moment he was bony and had a spot on his chin.

She felt relieved when they arrived at the church, but the feeling didn't last long. There was a murmur among the guests as Des escorted her along to the front. He didn't sit down with her, though, just bent to kiss her cheek.

'I've got to pick up Lacey now and do the father stuff.'

She'd forgotten that he'd have to escort the bride in and give her away. She definitely wouldn't have come today if she'd realized she'd be sitting alone.

He touched her cheek gently. 'Tiff? You were miles away. I was just saying that Hilary will look after you till I get back. Only I wanted to settle you here myself first.'

Did that mean he was making a public statement about her? Tiffany wondered. When he'd gone she cast an anxious glace at the older woman. 'I'm sorry. I didn't know he'd be foisting me on you.'

'That's all right.' Hilary hesitated then said, 'You're nervous, aren't you?'

'Very.'

'You're not at all what I expected.'

'You thought I'd be a tart?'

'Yes.'

The words were out before Tiffany could stop herself. 'I'm with Des because I love him. I'm sorry about your daughter, really I am. I didn't want to hurt anyone . . . but I do love Des.'

'He's luckier than he deserves.'

Tiffany could see Mitch listening. He was still glaring at her. He had his father's green eyes but his hair was auburn not silver. It was just like Des to dump her with two people who had every right to hate her. She picked up the wedding programme and bent over it, pretending to study the order of service.

Why on earth had she agreed to come today?

The answer to that was easy. Because once, just once, she wanted to be seen openly with Des.

Oh, she was a fool, an utter fool! Why not ask for the moon? It'd be far easier to get than what she wanted.

Judith picked up the phone, recognizing Andy's voice immediately.

'I've found out the information you wanted about your painting tutors . . .'

When she put the phone down she stood there feeling numb, unable to move as she tried to take in what Andy had said.

Was he telling the truth? Had Des really bribed her private art teachers to play down how good she was? Reluctantly, she came to the conclusion that she believed it. Des had been very insistent on finding the art tutors for her, which had surprised her. Now she understood why.

She reached out to pick up the phone and tell him what she thought of such a nasty trick, then remembered it was Lacey's wedding today, so she went upstairs to the top floor, running her fingers lightly over her boxes of painting equipment. If only she'd known! She'd slowed down, stopped doing as much painting, tried to interest herself in other things. Hadn't succeeded.

Suddenly tears rolled down her cheeks and she plumped down on the floor, clutching a bundle of clean paintbrushes to her breast and sobbing. She cried for a long time.

What Des had done to her dreams and hopes was cruel.

When she was cried out, she wiped her eyes and stood up. Working carefully she began to set out her materials, feeling hope swell inside her once again.

Then she pulled out her unfinished canvases one by one, studying them carefully.

'My life isn't over yet, Des Corrigan,' she muttered. 'One day I'm going to rub my success in your face.'

The wedding reduced Tiffany to tears, as she'd feared it would. As she tried to flick the moisture away without Des seeing, he turned his head and grinned, miming a boo hoo. She fumbled in her tiny, beaded bag, hoping desperately that she'd put in enough tissues. Hilary passed her a handkerchief and she nodded her thanks.

When it came time to leave the church, Des pulled Tiffany's arm firmly into his and led her outside. 'Do you always cry at weddings?'

'Invariably.'

'Women!' But his voice was gentle, his expression genial. 'Lacey looks beautiful, doesn't she?'

'Very.'

He nodded as if the compliment had been made to him. 'Takes after her old man.'

The photography session seemed to take a long time, with Des involved in several of the main shots. He dragged Tiffany into a couple of the mass shots, though if looks could kill, the bride and her mother would have become murderers on the spot.

'You shouldn't have brought me, let alone shoved me into the photos,' Tiffany whispered. 'It's not fair to your daughter.' She saw Mitch looking at her as if surprised by what she'd said.

She was seated next to Des at the high table, another embarrassment. An older woman a couple of places away from her kept making loud and scornful remarks about people who traded on their good looks to push in where they weren't wanted. 'I suppose that's all some people have, their looks,' she finished.

Des's face took on an angry flush.

Tiffany had had enough. 'Oh, I'm not a model now,' she said loudly, as if in response to someone. 'I'm an author. In fact, I just heard today that my first novel has been accepted for publication.' She'd waited for a lull in the conversation and her voice carried clearly down the table. Everyone turned to stare at her, including Des, but she held up her head and stared right back.

'Oh, well - er - congratulations,' someone said, and others echoed the words.

'You didn't tell me!' Des complained in a low voice as the talking started up again.

'I didn't think this was a day for blowing my own trumpet, only that woman over there has been making such nasty remarks that in the end I let fly.'

He grinned. 'I've seen you do that once or twice before.'

They exchanged smiles as they both remembered their first meeting, when she'd put a sleazy photographer firmly in his place.

Des squeezed her hand. 'You're right to defend yourself. And congratulations. This is the book you were telling me about the other night, the romance?' 

'Yes.'

'Do they pay much?'

'I don't know yet. You get paid in dribs and drabs and it depends on how many copies are sold.'

He was looking at her thoughtfully now. 'You're a dark horse, Tiff.'

'I'm not. I've been perfectly open with you about my writing. No one else needed to know except for my friends on line, whom I haven't told about my acceptance yet.' Her expression grew sad. 'My mother will be scornful about it because it's a romance and my father won't care.'

'Well, I'm proud of you. You always have been more than a beautiful face.'

She looked at him in surprise.

'I mean it. You've got guts and I admire that.'

Someone else claimed Des's attention and then the speeches started. Tiffany sat quietly listening to what people were saying, feeling a warmth inside her at Des's unexpected compliment.

She looked along the table and wished it were her in that white dress, wished she had the sort of family who cared what you did. Oh, she was being silly! It was her hormones, which were all out of kilter lately, or else why would she keep wishing for the moon?

By the time they got back to her flat she was exhausted.