Always You (27 page)

Cahal blinked. His father’s words though crude, had truth in them. ‘I don’t owe you anything, Malachy Mulvenna. And the only thing in my life that I’ve ever really wanted, I can’t have because of you.’

Malachy raised the stick in the air and shouted, ‘What’re you blethering on about, man?’

‘Sarah Walker. Her family can’t stand the sight of me because of who I am. And now she knows the truth as well.’

Malachy laughed and stabbed the floor with the stick. ‘Poor wee heartbroken Cahal. You always were a whinger. Well, that’s not my problem. You tell her that her aunt is a lying cow. She led me on, so she did. And what she got, well, she had it coming.’

Cahal recoiled in horror, his father’s words so hateful that he felt physically repulsed. He took a step backwards. ‘I never want to see you again.’

‘Think I care?’ Malachy spat out. He added a curse, turned and hobbled back into the function hall.

There was a long silence. Cahal pressed the heels of his hands to his throbbing temples and leaned against the wall. His father’s blood ran in his veins. He felt contaminated, spoiled, the black stain of his father’s sin passed down to him like a genetic disease. He closed his eyes and placed his hand on his heart. But hadn’t he escaped once? Hadn’t he reinvented himself? He would not let his father’s actions determine who he was. He was Cahal Mulvenna – flawed in many ways – but he tried to live a decent life and do the right thing. He would continue to do that; he would not let his soiled bloodline determine his future.

He opened his eyes to find his mother staring at him, not in horror, but in trepidation. The cold, hard lump in his stomach intensified. Her gaze fell to the ground. ‘You knew he was guilty all along, didn’t you?’

She fidgeted with the collar of her blouse. And then, without raising her eyes, she nodded.

He had always seen her as a victim.

‘And Sean and Grainne?’

‘No.’

‘How could you have stayed with him?’

She pulled her cardigan tighter round her frame. ‘We’d only been married for a year and he was off working most of the time. He couldn’t get work in Ballyfergus. When the … when Vi Walker claimed he raped her, I was pregnant with Sean. I believed him at first. It wasn’t till it went to court that I started to have … doubts.’

‘Why didn’t you leave then?’

‘It was too late. I had a baby to look after and I had nowhere to go. You don’t understand how it was then, Cahal. I couldn’t leave.’

‘Gran would’ve taken you in. Or your sister.’

She shook her head. ‘My Ma told me it was my duty to stand by him. And my sister’s husband didn’t want to have anything to do with us. And Malachy always denied it … and if I hadn’t stayed, you wouldn’t have been born!’ she said angrily.

He snorted. ‘And that’s supposed to make me feel better?’

She pressed her lips together in anger and then blurted out, her grey head shaking and spit on her lips, ‘Don’t judge me for it, Cahal. Unless you’ve walked in my shoes you have no right to judge me.’

The anger drained away. Inside he felt hollow. ‘I don’t judge you, Ma,’ he said quietly. ‘I feel sorry for you. I’m sad that you settled for this.’ He touched her wrinkled cheek with his hand but he could not bring himself to kiss it. ‘Goodbye, Ma.’

He thought of Sarah and the dreams and hopes he had carried in his heart since that night he saw her in the Europa Hotel. How terribly mistaken he had been. The cards were stacked against them from day one, they just hadn’t known it until now.

‘What will you do now?’ said his mother’s voice.

He looked her in the eye. ‘Go back to Australia. What else can I do?’

Aunt Vi sat on the sofa in Sarah’s lounge cradling a mug of hot, sweet tea and staring straight ahead, her back erect, her lips sealed in a straight line. Sarah, watching from the doorway, put a hand on her stomach, nauseated by what she’d learnt in the last hour. Sounds floated up the hall from the kitchen – Becky’s voice; the ping of the microwave; the kids arguing over who was having lemon chicken or crispy beef.

She padded quietly into the lounge on bare feet and shut the door behind her, blocking out the racket. Vi did not stir.

Sarah’s chest tightened, and the space between her shoulder blades burned. She felt weighed down by a sense of guilt that, not only had her aunt endured a horrific, life-changing ordeal, but Cahal’s presence here today had forced her to relive it all over again. In the space of a few short moments, Sarah’s whole world had shifted and it would never be the same again.

She sat down beside her aunt and said, ‘I’m sorry about what happened to you, Aunt Vi,’ the clumsy sentence failing to convey the depth of her compassion and grief.

Aunt Vi set the mug down on a coaster and touched the back of her grey bun as if checking it was still in place. Then she looked Sarah in the eye, her gaze behind her glasses as calm and collected as ever, though she now looked incredibly tired. ‘You don’t have to be sorry, love. You had no part in this. You didn’t do anything wrong.’

‘But I did. I … I wasn’t nice to you when you came to live with us after Mum died.’

Aunt Vi smiled sadly. ‘We were all hurting then, Sarah. We were all just trying to do the best we could. It was only natural for you to resent me. It must’ve seemed as if I was trying to take your mother’s place.’

Sarah looked away and blushed. ‘I thought Mum wanted me to be the mother, not you. She asked me to look after Becky.’

‘I know she did, love. But she was very ill, I’m not sure she knew rightly what she was asking of you. It was a very heavy burden to place on the shoulders of someone so young.’

Sarah put her face in her hands. ‘Oh Aunt Vi, I feel it still.’

‘I know you do, love. But it’s time to let that sense of responsibility go.’ Aunt Vi patted her on the knee and Sarah looked up into her kind, wise eyes. ‘Do you think you can?’

Sarah nodded. ‘I’ll try.’

Aunt Vi smiled. ‘You mustn’t beat yourself up about being difficult. All teenagers rebel and you had more to cope with than most. And I made a lot of mistakes. I was too strict.’

Tears spilled out of Sarah’s eyes. ‘But I understand why now. After what you’d been through, you were afraid for us.’

Aunt Vi nodded slowly. ‘Yes, I was. I didn’t used to be such a worrier, you know. But Malachy Mulvenna changed that. He made me afraid of my own shadow.’

‘There are people who can help with that, Aunt Vi,’ said Sarah earnestly, wiping the tears away. ‘I could find a good counsellor for you.’

Vi pushed her glasses up by the bridge. ‘I think the time for that’s long past, Sarah. I’m an old woman now. My life, such as it was, well … it’s lived, isn’t it?’

Sarah blinked back tears. ‘And I accused you of stealing Cahal’s letters. I know you didn’t take them. I’m sorry.’

‘Thank you for saying that, Sarah. I appreciate it,’ she said graciously and then added, her eyebrows raised questioningly, ‘You still believe him about those letters then?’

Sarah, her doubts increased by tonight’s revelations, looked away and said nothing. Aunt Vi forced a smile. ‘I should be the one apologising to you. I’m sorry I lost it in there. It was just that … when I saw him, Sarah.’ She paused and shook her head, a grim expression on her face. ‘It was like looking at Malachy Mulvenna all over again. I couldn’t bear it. Something inside me just snapped.’

Sarah gave her aunt a brief, awkward hug. She stiffened in Sarah’s arms and she released her. They had never been tactile with each other. ‘I don’t blame you. I don’t know how you coped all these years.’

Aunt Vi sniffed and stared grimly at the ring on Sarah’s finger. ‘By putting others before myself. Family and duty first, Sarah.’

Sarah stared at the ring on her finger. She had put family and duty first once before too and it had brought her nothing but misery.

‘I want you to stop seeing him,’ said Aunt Vi, and when Sarah did not answer, she added, ‘He can never be part of this family. You do see that, don’t you?’

Sarah’s heart stilled. She looked at her aunt and in her cold, hard eyes she saw a life wasted, hope quashed, dreams shattered. And she saw her future too – a lonely life of duty and service, dedicated to her children and the care of her ageing aunt and father. A life without Cahal. It would be unbearable. ‘I’m sorry, Aunt Vi. I can’t do that.’ And with that Sarah walked out of the room.

Later, when the kids were in bed, and Dad and Aunt Vi had gone home, Becky and Sarah sat opposite each other in the lounge on armchairs, talking in low voices in the fading light. Plates of half-eaten food covered the coffee table and a stiff gin and tonic sat on the table by Sarah’s right hand.

The extraordinary events of the evening had resulted in a sort of truce between them, though the atmosphere was strained.

‘I’m going to try him again.’ Sarah hit the redial button on the mobile she’d had in her hand constantly for the last hour. The phone tripped straight to Cahal’s voicemail – a female computerised voice. She threw the phone down in frustration. ‘He’s not answering. Or replying to any of my texts.’

‘He must’ve switched his mobile off.’

‘He’s not picking up at home either.’

‘Maybe he’s gone for a long walk. Maybe he just needs to be on his own for a bit.’

‘I suppose so,’ she said despondently, peering anxiously at the small screen on the phone. But what if he wasn’t okay?

Becky took a long drink of gin and tonic, then shook her head in disbelief. ‘What a night. Poor Aunt Vi. I can’t imagine what she suffered.’

‘And not just the rape, which must’ve been awful,’ said Sarah, getting up and switching on the lights. ‘But everything that happened afterwards. The court case and missing out on marriage and children. And all because of that evil man.’ She sat down, lifted up the glass by her side and stared miserably into her drink. ‘I just wish they’d told us a long time ago.’

‘It’s not the sort of thing you want to tell young, impressionable girls, is it? It would have scared us witless. And the chances of you meeting and falling in love with Malachy Mulvenna’s son must’ve seemed like one in a million to them.’

‘I suppose so. But still, it might have saved everyone all this heartache.’ She pressed the glass against the place between her breasts, a knot of pain caught there like indigestion. Tears seeped out of the corners of her eyes. ‘But then I would’ve missed out on the only real love I’ve ever known. And for all the pain this has caused, I wouldn’t have missed that for the world.’

As if sensing her distress, Bisto, who’d been lying on the rug, jumped onto her lap and rubbed his face against her arm. She stroked his hard little skull and he curled up in a ball on her lap. Smiling bravely, she wiped away the tears, and tried to hold back more. Crying didn’t change anything. It only made her feel worse. ‘I feel terrible for accusing Aunt Vi of stealing those letters. But I still can hardly believe that Dad lied about the phone call.’

‘What?’

‘It was him.’ Sarah told Becky about the confession Dad had made and Becky said carefully, ‘Well you can’t really blame Granny and Dad, can you? Not in light of what we now know.’

‘No, I can’t blame them.’ She set the glass down and raked both hands through her hair. ‘Cahal hasn’t done anything wrong. It’s not right for him to suffer.’ And, though she tried to hold it back, a little sob escaped.

‘About the letters,’ said Becky and something in the tone of her voice demanded Sarah’s full attention.

‘What about them?’

Becky’s hands shook so much she had to set her glass down. And there was a long pause before she spoke again. ‘I took them.’

Sarah leaned back in the chair and put her hands over her mouth, too shocked to speak. Why had it never occurred to her that Becky might have taken them? Because she loved and trusted her sister more than anyone. And she expected the same loyalty back. Finding her voice at last, Sarah said, ‘But you knew how much the truth meant to me. You stood by and let me doubt Cahal.’

Becky lowered her eyes. ‘I know. And I’m sorry.’

Sarah’s brain whirred into action sorting facts, putting two and two together. ‘Did you know about the rape?’

Becky shook her head. ‘No. That wasn’t why I did it.’

‘Then why did you take them?’ said Sarah angrily. ‘And why didn’t you tell me? Since Cahal told me about them, I’ve talked of nothing else for months. I confided in you. And you sat and let me point the finger at Aunt Vi and even Dad.’ Her throat constricted with hurt, making further speech impossible for the moment.

‘Please Sarah, just listen will you?’

Sarah took a deep breath and tried to calm herself. She stroked Bisto again – long, hard strokes down the length of his spine.

Becky wet her lips. ‘I took them because I thought that you were going to follow Cahal to Australia. I was afraid you’d leave me, Sarah. Dad was so angry and Aunt Vi so upset, the atmosphere in the house was unbearable. The three most important people in my world were at each other’s throats.’ She paused and some of Sarah’s anger leached away.

‘And when that first letter fell onto the doormat,’ Becky went on, looking into the empty fireplace, ‘I was standing right there. I picked it up, saw the Australian stamp, and slipped it into the pocket of my dressing gown. I don’t know why I did it. I don’t know why I didn’t just give it to you straight away. But later that night I took it out –’

Sarah gasped. ‘You read it?’

Becky shook her head. ‘No. Nor any of the others that came after it. I … looked at it and I thought that if I hid it, then you’d forget about Cahal and everything would go back to the way it was and everybody would be happy again …’ Her voice tailed off and Sarah stared at her sister, stunned.

‘I never thought you could betray me like that.’

Becky hung her head. ‘I’m sorry, Sarah. I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought that if Dad and Aunt Vi didn’t like Cahal they must’ve had good reason. And it turns out they did. But that doesn’t excuse what I did.’

‘Oh, Becky,’ whispered Sarah. ‘What have you done?’ She paused. ‘Where are the letters now?’

Becky lowered her eyes. ‘I burnt them the day after you and Ian got married.’

Sarah gasped. So she would never read Cahal’s love letters. His words were gone, along with the lost years. She felt she had been robbed of so much.

‘I thought that you were happy,’ said Becky earnestly, inching forwards till she was on the edge of her seat. ‘I thought that you’d forgotten all about Cahal. How was I to know that you still loved him? Or that he would come back one day?’

Sarah blinked back tears and stared at the ceiling. Then she brought her gaze to bear on Becky. ‘Do you know what, Becky? I’m sick of all these secrets and lies. They’ve brought nothing but misery.’

‘So am I,’ said Becky, miserably. ‘I swear to you, Sarah, if I had known how much my actions would hurt you, I never would’ve taken those letters.’

‘I know that. And I forgive you.’ Sarah stared at Becky, her heart pounding in her chest. Here was her chance to come clean about Tony, to trade one secret for another. Did she have the courage? And could she live with the consequences? ‘I only hope that you can forgive me too.’

Becky stared at her coolly and folded her arms. ‘So, you’re finally going to tell me what you said to Tony at the barbecue, are you?’

Sarah took a deep breath and closed her eyes. When she opened them, she looked not at Becky but at Bisto’s little brown and white body. ‘I knew Tony at uni.’

‘But I thought you said you’d never met him before,’ said Becky, puzzled.

‘I know.’

‘So why would you say that?’

Sarah glanced into Becky’s perplexed face, then looked away, unable to bear her scrutiny. ‘Because I had something to hide. And so had Tony.’ There was a long pause. ‘Cahal introduced me to him shortly after we met. I saw him occasionally, at parties and in the uni bar, but we never talked – just nodded in passing, that was all.’

Becky unfolded her arms slowly and Sarah took a deep breath to try and calm her jangling nerves. ‘Well, that autumn after Cahal went to Australia, I went back to uni. One night I got drunk at a party – I did that a lot that term – and Tony was there. We talked about Cahal and I was so hurt and angry, I would’ve done anything to injure him. I thought that …’ Her voice started to break up but she pressed on, her face burning, determined to reveal the truth. For if she didn’t do it now, she never would.

'… I thought that if I slept with one of his friends, word would get back to him.’

Becky cried out, her eyes open wide in horror.

Sarah fixed her eyes on the clock on the mantel and dug her fingers into Bisto’s fur. ‘I thought I would show him that if he didn’t care for me, then I didn’t care for him either. And so we … we did it.’

A long silence followed. Sarah looked at Becky. She was still as a statue and just as white. ‘And did you … have you …’

Sarah shook her head vehemently. ‘No, it was just that once. And it was nothing more than a drunken –’

‘I don’t want to know!’ cried Becky, slapping her hands over her ears.

‘You have to understand that it meant nothing to either of us,’ said Sarah, her stomach muscles tensing. Bisto leapt off her lap and trotted out of the room, tail erect. ‘He never told Cahal so my stupid plan didn’t even work and now I’m glad it didn’t for Cahal might never have come back. I avoided Tony for the rest of the year, and after that he went off to Queen’s and I never saw him again, until he turned up at Isabelle’s seventieth.’

‘You slept with Tony,’ said Becky, removing her hands from her ears. ‘And you were always banging on to me about what a slut I was for sleeping around!’

‘I never said that, Becky.’

Becky jumped to her feet and shouted, ‘You’re no better than me! At least I slept with men because I liked them, because I thought we might just have a future together. Not to get back at someone, not as a twisted act of revenge.’

‘Keep your voice down or you’ll wake the children.’ Sarah’s cheeks burned with shame. ‘That’s one of the reasons I didn’t tell you,’ she said quietly. ‘You’ve always looked up to me. I couldn’t bear you thinking ill of me. And I didn’t want to ruin your relationship with Tony before it had a chance to get off the ground.’

Becky stared at her for some long moments, her tongue bulging in her left cheek. ‘Why did you have to spoil this for me, Sarah? Tony’s the only man I’ve ever loved.’

‘I didn’t do it deliberately! How was I to know that you would meet him all these years later and fall in love?’

Becky said, more to herself than Sarah, ‘I don’t understand why Tony didn’t tell me.’

‘I asked him not to. That’s what we were talking about in the garden.’

‘And how many other secret rendezvous did you and Tony have?’ demanded Becky, her eyes ablaze.

‘None. That day in the garden, I got him to swear that he’d never tell you.’

Becky stared at her open-mouthed, then said, ‘So you weren’t jealous?’

‘No. I was pleased you’d found happiness. I just wished it had been with someone other than Tony.’

Becky folded her arms. ‘But you did try to break us up.’

‘At first, yes. You see, if you broke up, the problem would vanish. But later, when I saw how great you were together and realised that wasn’t going to happen, all I cared about was making sure that you never found out. I thought it would destroy your relationship with me – and with Tony.’ She put her head in her hands. ‘It’s all my fault. At Isabelle’s party, I leapt in before he could speak and pretended I didn’t know him – and then he just went along with it to save me embarrassment.’

There was a long silence and Becky sat down suddenly on the chair and ran her hand through her hair. ‘You should’ve told me.’

‘I know. But please don’t let this affect your relationship with Tony. I’ve watched him these past months, Becky. He’s devoted to you and you’re perfect together. It’s not as if you don’t have histories. He’s got two marriages behind him for heaven’s sake and God knows how many ex-girlfriends.’

‘Thanks for reminding me.’

‘Look,’ said Sarah, feeling as if her life depended on persuading Becky. ‘You never placed much emotional importance on sexual relationships before you met Tony. Do you think Tony cares who you slept with before him?’

‘No.’

‘And what would you think of him, if he did? If he gave you a hard time about it?’

Becky shrugged.

‘You’d think he was creepy, wouldn’t you?’

‘I suppose so.’

‘So, why should you give a toss who he slept with? Especially when it was twenty years ago.’

Becky rubbed her eyes and sighed. ‘I’m not angry with Tony. I’m angry with you.’

‘But you do see why I didn’t tell you, Becky, don’t you?’

‘You were doing your usual.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Protecting me. Making decisions on my behalf. You should’ve told me and let me decide whether I wanted to keep seeing Tony.’

This had not occurred to Sarah. ‘Oh, I hadn’t thought … you’re right. I’m sorry.’

Becky sighed and her voice softened. ‘I know you did it for all the right reasons. But you have to stop doing this.’

‘What?’

‘Making decisions on my behalf, behaving as if I’m some sort of ward that needs your protection. You’ve been doing it ever since Mum died.’

Sarah looked at her lap. ‘You’re right. I’m sorry. Do you forgive me?’ She looked up and held her breath.

‘Of course I do. Come here you big idiot.’

The two women met on the rug and hugged each other and Sarah, her heart soaring said, ‘Oh, Becky, I’ve missed you. It’s been awful not having you to talk to.’

‘I know, me too. I’m just so glad you told me the truth. And I thought you were jealous of me and Tony!’

They pulled apart and Sarah smiled. ‘I’d never be jealous of you.’

‘What are you going to do about Cahal?’

‘I don’t know.’ Sarah’s smile faltered but inside a steely determination rose up from somewhere. ‘All I know is that I love him and I won’t let this destroy us. I have to find him.’

‘Well go and look. I can stay the night and get the kids to school in the morning.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘I’m sure. And if you don’t come back tonight, I’ll phone in sick for you tomorrow.’

Sarah’s heart pounded and the hairs stood up on the back of her neck. ‘Thanks, sweetheart. Tell the kids I had to leave for work really early.’

She hesitated for a moment then ran out into the hall. Becky followed her and sat down on the stairs. Sarah took one look in the mirror and groaned. Her hair was a mess from running her hands through it, and her face was streaked with tears. She licked the tips of her fingers and rubbed at her cheeks. ‘Oh, what the hell does it matter what I look like?’